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againstacecilia · 2 years

Note

I wish you'd write a fic where...

Either Din or Poe pretends to the readers fake boyfriend at a bar/crowded place. To get rid of unwanted attention, they swear. That's the only reason.

😉

Oh well twist my arm. 😍

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Rating: T, I think, but the whole blog is 18+ NO EXCEPTIONS

Excerpt: "Without saying anything you leap into the thick of the rabble, knowing Mando would follow you. The last months of working together had built an understanding between the two of you. You move, he moves. He jumps, you follow. Like your favorite book, you knew exactly what was going to happen when Mando went out into the world and he could rely on that consistency from you as well, all without either of you having to utter a word."

Warnings: Canon typical violence, a grabby guy at a bar, some unspoken feelings, mentions of alcohol, just a hint of angst.

Summary: Hunting with Mando is a great time, but why do people keep trying to hide in bars?

A/N: This lil fic was requested by @creatively-analytical and is also 1000% dedicated to you, my love! I figured your birthday was as good a time as any to answer this! Here's a little protective!Din fic, dedicated to you. I'm SO HAPPY you exist and I'm so thankful our paths crossed. LOVEYOUSOMUCHHAPPYBIRTHDAY

Great. Another bar. After months of hunting with Mando, the hardest quarries always seemed to end up in some crowded, smelly place that had no business serving things to eat and drink.

Overall, chasing quarries along the Outer Rim was great. Adventure around every turn, working as a team with your silent Mandalorian companion, hours by yourself to read on your holopad or learn about fighting from Mando, there was a lot to enjoy about the fact that no two days were alike. Until you had to walk into a seedy cantina and then the unknown loomed over you like the male figures that always seemed to surround you and try to swallow you up.

You did just fine on your own, honestly, but it doesn’t mean you liked dealing with it in the first place. It usually ended with a fist into someone’s gut (mostly your first into their gut, luckily) but whenever you had to follow someone into the enclosed space you were counting the seconds until you could see the stars again. Tonight was one of those nights.

As always, Din leads the way through the beat-up cantina door and into the sea of bodies. You follow closely, noting each exit and window as you both scanned the room for your quarry. Mando usually spotted people first, being a head taller than everyone else and being able to use whatever tech aided him in that helmet of his, but this guy was different. He was sneaky, a pro at blending into whatever environment surrounded him. This was your speciality, though, the reason you and Mando had teamed up all those months ago, finding the slipperiest and sneakiest targets. Eyes narrowed against the glaring neon signs, you take a breath and tune out the music and hum of talking and laughter. You pass your gaze along the middle of the crowd when… There.

Without saying anything you leap into the thick of the rabble, knowing Mando would follow you. The last months of working together had built an understanding between the two of you. You move, he moves. He jumps, you follow. Like your favorite book, you knew exactly what was going to happen when Mando went out into the world and he could rely on that consistency from you as well, all without either of you having to utter a word.

Slinking between writhing bodies you press deeper into the dancefloor. This was your own kind of dance, one you knew with your eyes closed. You could feel Mando behind you as you crept toward your target on silent feet. Within a heartbeat you were circling your hand around a thin bicep. Pressing your face close to your target’s, you whisper, “Gotcha.”

He turns to face you, eyes wide with shock and fear. To his credit, he doesn’t squirm or try to get himself out of your grasp; his head just falls in defeat as you pull him toward your partner. Mando snaps cuffs on thin wrists and the three of you head towards the door.

The walk back is quiet, but a different quiet than you’re used to. Over your weeks together, you learned that Mando has a few different quiets: There’s the triumphant quiet after a daring catch, there’s the angry quiet after a quarry slips away, and every once in a while there’s a restless quiet on the Crest after traveling for too long. But this one… You couldn’t quite put your finger on what was different about this one. The way his gaze bares into the back of your head while you drag the bail jumper toward his carbonie nap makes you shiver, but not in a way you totally mind…

The ship is a half mile out of town, nestled in a clearing of the thickest forest you’ve ever seen, but the wildlife trails make getting in and out of your little hiding place easy enough. Mando pushes some buttons on his vambrace to open the ramp to the Crest and takes the quarry from you, leading him to the freezer. After a quick cloud, the machine finished freezing him and Mando loads him into the backlog.

As he returns to the cargo bay, you open your mouth to ask him if he’s okay, but he speaks before you can.

“Want to go back?”

You blink, confused. “What?”

“We deserve a break, and that was the least dingy bar we’ve come across in a long time. Let’s get you a drink.”

Mando walks back down the ramp and back toward the treeline. Too stunned to argue, you follow, mostly out of curiosity. What has gotten into him?

If you were honest with yourself, the cantina wasn’t where you wanted to go to let loose. If there was an open-air market or a library you could spend hours getting lost in, those would be your first choices. But as night fell over the city you never bothered to get the name of, it became clear that the bar was the only place you’d get to sit down and not have to make your own food. You’d take it.

A hand painted sign you hadn’t noticed the first time around hangs over the entrance: The Last Meteor. A more delicate name than the patrons inside suggested. As your eyes adjust to the lighting, you look with a different focus than a few hours ago. High-backed booths line the room, with high and low tables scattered around the interior. A dance floor takes a quarter of the floorspace next to the bar. You and Mando slide up to sit in stools at the bar and flag down a droid cleaning glasses.

“My name is C-L1, how may I serve you this evening?” The mechanical voice asks, holding none of the warmth that seemed to sneak out of Mando’s modulator during long stints in hyperspace.

“One Horstberry cider, please,” you respond, dropping credits on the bar, “And something to eat. Chef’s choice.”

“And for you?” C-L1 asks Mando.

“Nothing, thank you.” he responds without looking at the droid. His attention was directed elsewhere, most likely keeping an eye on everyone around you, monitoring for any sign of danger. C-L1 dips their head and moves away to put in your food order and pour your cider.

“So, Mando, what’s this all about?” you ask after your drink is set in front of you. You take a sip, savoring the tang and sweetness of something that didn’t come from a water recycling unit.

“I told you,” he says, still not looking at you, “We deserve a break and time off the ship.”

You scoff, taking another drink. “Sure, you seem real relaxed and taking advantage of this break.”

The visor of his helmet slowly turns toward you, sending a shiver up your spine. Mando holds the stare for another moment before facing back to the crowd. There was your answer; this was your break. Something warmed a little in your chest with the knowledge, and you were sure it wasn’t anything to do with the cider.

Your food comes, a huge sandwich piled high with meat and dripping with some sauce that runs down your fingers as soon as you pick it up. The mess is immediately pushed to the back of your mind as you bite in, relishing the tangy sauce and toasted bread. Rations were fine, obviously enough to survive on, but you missed real food. Your eyes close and a hum of contentment slips out of you.

The little bubble suddenly pops as you hear Mando tell you to stay put before slipping off the stool and into the throng. You hate it when he leaves you like this, but you’re content for now to turn back to your sandwich and let him do whatever it is he’s off doing.

“Hey honey,” A voice says to your right. A man plops into Mando’s empty seat and turns to face you. His legs crowd your space and he leans closer, a hand resting on your lower back, “I don’t recognize you. You new here?”

“You’d remember meeting me,” you respond lazily, finishing the first half of the sandwich. The other half you’d take back to the Crest for Mando to eat during his solitary meal.

“I bet I would,” the man drawled, free hand reaching across your body to turn you toward him. “What’s your name?”

You pull the napkin from under your plate and dab it across your lips before dropping it on the plate. “Not the sharing type, unfortunately,” you say, gesturing for C-L1, “Have a good evening.”

You attempt to turn your seat back to face the bar, but the stranger has a strong grip on you. C-L1 comes by just as the stranger says, “I asked you for your name, little lady.”

You ignore him, instead asking the droid for a to-go container and thanking him for the delicious meal. “And I told you to have a good evening. It’s a rejection,” you say, putting the rest of the sandwich into the container and closing the lid.

The stranger reaches up to grip your jaw in his hand, jerking your face to him. “You think you can just-” his words are cut off by the shadow looming over your shoulder. You recognize the presence immediately, just before a modulated voice says:

“Leave.”

A flash of fear lights the stranger’s eyes before the cocky mask is back and he scoffs. “Back off Mandalorian, I found her first.”

Rage heats your neck and face. Before you can say anything, though, a gloved hand reaches around you and fists into the stranger’s jacket. Stepping around you, Mando lifts the man off the seat and throws him to the ground. He scrambles to his feet, anger contorting his face.

“What the hell, man? You the boyfriend or something?”

“Yeah, I am. She told you she isn’t the sharing type, and neither am I, so fuck off.”

The stranger blanches, fear finally setting in. He mumbles something along the lines of “I’m so sorry” before aiming for the door and stumbling into the night. The crowd that parted for him to leave merges again and the dull roar of the cantina comes back in full.

“You alright?” Mando asks, reclaiming his seat next to you.

You finish the rest of your cider before answering, letting the tension out of your shoulders and rubbing your jaw where a ghost of the stranger’s grip still lingers. “I’m fine. Thank you, by the way.”

He shrugs, brushing off your thanks. “Ready to head back?”

“Absolutely.” You slip off the stool and lead the way toward the door.

Once out in the cool evening, you stop and stare at the stars in the inky sky. They center you, remind you that everything that just happened in The Last Meteor is so small compared to everything that’s out there. You close your eyes for a moment and just breathe, feeling the last of the night’s tension flow out of your body. Mando waits next to you and you can feel his gaze burning into you again. Your eyes open and find his visor, focusing right where you think his eyes would be before saying, “So. I’m your girlfriend?”

“I knew he wouldn’t leave you alone if he didn’t think you were already claimed by someone.” Mando replies matter-of-factly, visor never shifting from you.

“Claimed?” You ask, eyebrows lifting.

“You know what I mean. One of those guys who thinks he’s owed things by the world. Takes what he wants unless someone bests him at getting them first.”

“Well, I guess I’d rather be yours than be conquered by some random guy in a bar,” you quip, heading toward the Crest. You let the implication hang in the air, I’d rather be yours…

Mando doesn’t say anything for the walk back to the ship, back to your little shared home. You count the stars, memorizing the constellations of this area and sneaking glances over at your companion’s unfaltering visage. This quiet, this… Contemplative silence, it’s newly charged. Like those walls you both so carefully constructed are poised to fall...

Back on the Crest, you silently hand Mando the container with the other half of the sandwich before crawling into the makeshift cot you had insisted on setting up on your first day on board. You face the wall and cover up as you listen to Mando’s boots ascend the ladder to the cockpit, a curious feeling prickling at your chest as you close your eyes.

- - - - - - - -

He sits in the pilot’s chair, lights off and helmet on the floor next to his feet, the to-go container open on his lap. The stars shining through the viewport of the ship provide the only light in the small cockpit. As he stares ahead, the events of the evening flash in his mind’s eye; snagging the quarry, going back to the cantina, stepping away for barely a minute, seeing the stranger’s hands all over you, throwing him to the ground… Suddenly, everything stops on an image of you: face tilted to the sky, eyes closed, a small smile lifting the corners of your mouth as you breathed in the night air. As surely as you took that breath, in that moment, you stole his right from his chest. He isn’t sure where any of it came from; the anger at the stranger or this protectiveness of you. He isn’t sure what’s changed from yesterday to today, but he wants to find out. He wants to know you, if by some miracle you want to know him too.

For now, he’ll settle for watching the stars you love so much.

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conretewings · 3 years

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Senario: Vander smacks your ass behind the bar while a guy is hitting on you. In turn, a few days pass and a woman is hitting on Vander..........*warms um palms* Don't hold back lol

Oh friend. You've started something. 😘 You and everyone else please enjoy this little treat:

-It's one of those nights, nights where the bar is especially crowded and the entire place is a raucous din of chatter, drunken laughter, the clattering of mugs on tables, and the occasional dispute, with the old jukebox trying it's best to be heard above the noise.

"Round for the left corner table!" calls Vander as he passes you a tray of drinks. Taking it and flashing him a warm smile, you go to serve them...ignoring the man sitting at the end of the bar who has been pointedly eyeing and grinning like a fool at you for some time now.

Once you come back and pass him again he raises his hand to say, "'Scuse me ma'am, might I have another ale? And...a word if that's alright."

"Sure comin' up," you answer, and grabbing a clean mug pour him the drink and slide it over, then pause in front of him, "Now what's up? Someone bothering you?"

"Nah...but I uh..." he rests his chin in his hand and looks at you with a half lidded, lopsided smirk, "I wish someone was..."

"....Ah. I see." you answer flatly, leaning one elbow on the counter; so he was trying, terribly, to flirt. It seemed that, unlike a lot of the other patrons, this guy didn't realize you were dating the owner.

After a hiccup and clearing his throat, he 'walks' his fingers across the warped wood toward your arm and asks, "So uh...what're you doin' later after leavin' this dump?"

Before you can answer you feel a large hand on your upper back. You know that touch very well, and turn your head to see Vander standing there, giving the man that particular, tight-lipped grin that you recognize as quite the opposite of amused, his eyes narrowed.

"It may be a dump, but it's mine. Now then mate, ya mind tellin' me why you're harassing my staff?" he all but growls.

The man gapes at him stupidly and warily withdraws his own hand, eyes glazed from drink, "Um...I uh..."

"Well," Vander continues, and as he's speaking his hand slides down your back lower and lower until it's settled by your tailbone as you feel goosebumps dance across your skin from his caress, "I think you've had enough, and I'm going to have to cut you off for your own safety..."

And now his hand moves off you for only a split second before you feel the sharp and not unwelcome slap of his broad hand on your ass. The angle at which you two were standing assured no one could see, and you hiss in a quick breath, struggling to remain composed and shoot him an affectionate smirk while mouthing 'you bastard'. He throws you a quick wink and strides off while the man is already on his feet and weaving his way toward the door.

Part 2 under the cut because this is turning out longer than I expected:

Some days had passed since then, when during a slightly more quiet evening, you came back from taking orders to find a quite voluptuous woman who seemed to be quite taken with Vander. He was busy doing some intermittent cleaning behind the bar, and she was perched on a chair, talking to him and leaning forward enough to make quite the display of her ample cleavage. He was paying her no mind beyond asking if she needed another drink, and you bristle; oh. So this was how he had felt when the scenario was reversed.

It wasn't that you two didn't trust each other; mutual respect and trust came in spades for you both, but there was something about seeing another person making a play for your love that set the blood afire and ignited a protective, challenging instinct. Thus, you stuff your notebook in a pocket and go around behind the counter, stepping up to him and tapping his arm.

"Could you help me grab something from the storeroom?" you ask nonchalantly while shooting the woman a cool glance.

"Sure thing." he replies, dropping his cleaning rag and following you into a small side room around the corner, more of a closet than anything.

He doesn't see your smug grin, or you arcing your arm back as he sidles past you and asks, "Alright what did you-"

You swing your hand and crack him smartly right on his ass and he starts while you chuckle triumphantly, "Ha! That's for the other day. You did it while someone was flirting with me, thought I'd return the favor."

There's a momentary pause, then he twists his head just enough to peer at you over his shoulder; uh oh. You see the challenging glint there and before you can make another move he whirls, grasping you by the hips and hoisting you in the air, roughly pinning you to the wall with his body and you both ignore the several cans and other items that fall and clatter on the floor. You throw your arms around his shoulders as your legs encircle his waist and he leans in to growl lowly into your collarbone.

"Now now darlin'...if ya want to start something it'll hafta wait until closing. But until then..."

His hot breath against your skin and the promise of his words have already gotten your blood up, but then he clamps his mouth on your neck, kissing and nipping, making you let out a sharp gasp and moan. You twist your head to meet his lips with your own, pressing hard and running your tongue along his bottom lip. He grunts, fingers digging into your thighs and he deepens the kiss before you both pull back, breath heavy and he carefully lowers you to the floor.

You rest your hands on his chest and look up at him while biting your lip, "Later?"

"Aye definitely..." he replies, planting another kiss on your forehead then taking several deep breaths to calm down, and you both, as casually as possible, head back.

#ask answered #thanks friend!#vander arcane #arcane vander #vander x reader #ask prompt #this was fun to write

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thesugarclubs-blog · 2 years

Text

The Boardwalk - AU Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: harassment, manipulation, blood kinks, biting, smut, Minors DNI

word count: 8k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1261295566-the-boardwalk-zoe

Note: This is a vampire AU Bucky Barnes; please keep that in mind as you proceed

Masterlist

Romanian translations: "Numai că mi-aș dori să gust din acea gustare delicioasă înaintea ta, Barnes." = "Only I wish I could taste that delicious snack before you, Barnes." "Ne vedem în iad, idiotule", = see you in hell, asshole

>>><<<

Zoe stood on the boardwalk, the smell of cotton candy and stale donuts hung thick in the air. The sound of carnival music was all she could hear and the lights from the fair bounced off of the water. It would be a great night if her friend was actually here.

She checked her phone, sighed, and sent Lily another text.

Where are you? It's been half an hour and this boardwalk thing was your stupid idea.

Zoe clutched her phone like a life raft, and pulled her jacket a little tighter around her body. The cool air coming off of the ocean was enough to chill her to the bone. She could hear the screams and laughter of people on the rides behind her and gnawed on her lip. It was so typical of Lily to ditch her like this.

"Fuck this," she muttered, turning on her heel and walking down the boardwalk toward the beer garden.

If Lily wasn't going to show up, Zoe would make her own fun.

It was quiet, still the time of evening where kids haven’t yet run wild with a sugar rush, but Zoe had time.

As she wandered up to the bar, she noticed that the only other people were a group of friends crowded round a table in the corner.

She sat down at the bar checking her phone again to see that Lily had left her on read.

“What will you be having?” asked the bartender as he came up to her.

Zoe felt goosebumps forming on her skin as her eyes shot up from her phone screen. The bartender's eyes were friendly enough but she could feel someone else's boring into her back as soon as she sat down, something just felt off.

"I-" she turned around quickly as she felt something brushing her back, but when she saw that nobody was behind her, she turned back to the bartender, "I'll like a shot of the strongest stuff you have, please."

“Sure, coming right up…you looking for someone?“ the bartender asked as he turned to get the shot glass from behind the bar.

“Huh? Oh, um…no, sorry, did you see someone walk by just now?” Zoe asked the bartender, who she noticed had beautiful facial features and deep, dark eyes. She swallows a “thanks” and downs her shot.

The man watched her for a moment, the curiosity in his eyes sending a slight chill down her spine before he shook his head. "No, sorry."

Zoe nodded, glancing behind her once again to do a quick scan of the garden and then turning back around, "Can I have another?" She asked as her eyes met his.

“Everything all right?” he asked as he poured another shot.

As Zoe opened her mouth to speak she distinctly felt someone tap her shoulder and she spun around, heart racing.

A tall blonde stood directly behind her, close enough that the leather of his jacket brushed against her arm. The predatory look in his eye combined with a smug smirk did nothing to calm her nerves.

"Looks like you need some company," he murmured before taking the next stool over as alarm bells sounded in Zoe's head.

Gulping nervously, Zoe scooted back away from him on her stool the best she could before muttering a "Not interested. Thank you." And turning back to the bartender to signal for another shot.

Not one to take no for an answer, the blonde leaned close in her personal space and whispered, "Come on, it's no fun drinking alone."

Zoe took a calming breath, praying the guy would just leave her alone. Maybe if she ignored him, he would eventually leave ?

"Playing hard to get, hm? I like that.." The man smirked beside her. He turned his body on the stool to face her.

Zoe could feel his eyes racking over her, causing her to pull the hem of her shirt down to cover the small sliver of skin that was visible. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm waiting for someone and that seat is taken." She finally spoke, staring down at her shot glass.

One finger danced around the top of her shot glass before the bartender gave her a new one, shooting the liquid back in her throat as she felt the man’s disgusting and rotten breath getting closer to her ear.

Her fists clenched and the bartender must've noticed her being uncomfortable due to his raised voice, eyes shooting daggers at the man. “Didn’t you hear the lady? She’s expecting someone, back off man.”

The blonde stranger sneered at the bartender and cocked his head to the side.

"How about you mind your goddamn business, you motherfu--"

"And you can mind yours and leave the lady alone, John," a voice from behind Zoe growled.

She turned to see a tall blonde man in a black leather jacket, a white t-shirt, and blue jeans standing behind her. He grabbed John by the back of his jacket, spun him around, and pushed him against the bar, taking his t-shirt collar in his large fist. Zoe watched with wide eyes as he leaned forward.

"Get the fuck out of here. Now."

He practically tossed John across the beer garden and cracked his neck, turning to Zoe.

"Sorry about him. He likes to think he's entitled to any woman who walks in here." The stranger sticks his hand out. "I'm Steve."

Zoe blinked, stunned for a moment at the commotion that just had occurred, only brought out of it when Steve spoke up again.

“You’re welcome to join me and my friends, Bucky likes to keep an eye on any newbies… keep ‘em safe from the likes of John.” He grinned, shifting to the side a little so Zoe could see over his shoulder, her eyes falling on a dark haired man she assumed was ‘Bucky’ who was looking right at her.

She turned to face the bartender and raised her eyebrow in question.

“You don’t have to worry about Steve and Bucky, they are some of the few decent guys left in the city” he replied with a kind smile

Zoe bit the inside of her cheek in thought as she slowly moved her gaze back and found Bucky's eyes. This isn't something she would normally do, but there was something about him that she just couldn't shake, she couldn't rip her eyes off his, she felt the need to be closer to him.

He kept staring at her with that imitating look on his face, not even blinking once.

“What'd Ya say, hm? I promise, we don’t bite,” Steve grinned. “Plus, you’ll be in good company.”

"Um…oh fuck it, why not? Not like my alleged friend is gonna show. Lead the way", Zoe said, as Steve extended his hand toward her. She took it and thought, the bartender was right, he is one of the few decent guys left, but no more drinking, unless it's water, be smart Zoe!

Steve led her to the table where she was once again met with the alluring and intriguing dark briny blue eyes of the man that Steve called Bucky. Zoe almost missed Steve pulling her chair out for her to sit. She was so distracted by this man - he truly was physical perfection, even under his jeans and leather jacket.

Zoe slid into the chair, a pit of anxiety suddenly forming in her stomach as Steve slid into the chair next to the blue eyed man. The corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly that if she wasn't staring at him, she would have missed it.

"Always gotta be the hero huh, Stevie?" His voice was husky with just enough gravel that the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, even as he spoke his eyes never left her.

Zoe startled as Steve barked a laugh, shoving his friend. Eye contact broken, she glanced down, trying to ignore both the creeping sensation down her back and the tightening of her core.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Bucky whispered in a smooth voice. "You're safe with us. Walker's a fuckin' creep, but he knows better."

Zoe looked up, finally meeting his gaze once more.

"And what makes you any different than him? You have the same jacket. Belong to a club or something?" she asked, the liquor quickly making her much braver than she was moments ago at the bar.

Smirking, Bucky's eyes glint with mirth as they make contact with hers, his mouth lifted in one corner as he answered, "Not a club, per say," he said shrugging a shoulder as he reached for his drink and she gets a whiff of his heady cologne.

"But if we were, John's membership is 'bout to expire." He grinned at her and Zoe's heart stuttered as Steve laughed again.

"I'm surprised you put up with his ass." Zoe returned his grin. A comfortable warmth spread through her body. She felt an unexplainable pull towards this charming stranger.

Bucky snorted a laugh as he took a sip of his drink. He turned his gaze to Steve, "I like her, Stevie" He said, before shifting back towards Zoe, and raising an eyebrow, a cocky grin on his lips, "What's your name, love?"

His baby blue eyes buried right into her soul, but she swore she could sense something darker that was lurking behind the softness in his eyes and Zoe felt her cheeks starting to flush.

He did something to her, something that she hadn't felt before, fingers picking anxiously on the skin. “It’s Zoe.” She answered with a soft smile.

He studied her face, eyes landing on her throat as he dragged his tongue across his plump bottom lip.

"Pretty name," he said softly. He stuck out his hand and Zoe shook it, his skin cool to the touch. Bucky ran his thumb across her knuckles and smiled as a deep flush crept into Zoe's cheeks. "I haven't seen you around here before, darlin'. You new in town?"

She felt like she was swallowing cotton, but she let the alcohol take over, smirking as his eyes twinkled.

"Maybe you just weren't looking hard enough."

Zoe watched as Bucky and Steve exchanged a look, their eyes gleaming with something that made her toes curl and heart race, pulse thudding in her neck.

“Is that so?” Bucky chuckled darkly as his fingers crept to her wrist, “I guess I’m lucky that a gorgeous thing like you would show up when I least expect it.”

Zoe could feel her cheeks flush even more as she took a few long deep breaths trying to slow her heart rate. Zoe could almost hear her heart in her ears.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing my friend never showed up today then.” She laughed.

A shiver ran up her spine as Bucky settled his thumb at her pulse point and grazed the skin softly, eyes scanning her face and neck. She had never been looked at with such intent and desire. It was almost as if he was studying her, commiting her to memory.

"Fate works in mysterious ways, huh?" her voice almost a whisper as she found her ground again trying to best his gaze.

Bucky let out a chuckle as Steve threw his head back and palmed his chest.

"Oh, I don't think fate had anything to do with it sweetheart." he tsked.

“What do you mean?” She asked curious, something in her core made her feel that something wasn’t right about the situation she was in. Zoe took a quick look over to the kind bartender who was cleaning a glass and giving her a wink.

“Eyes on us, love.” Bucky’s voice held a seductive tone.

Zoe looked back at Bucky apprehensively, but also extremely intrigued. The feeling in her stomach was quickly taken over by a more nefarious one. The second she looked at Bucky and Steve, she couldn't turn away even if she tried. She was enchanted, and she knew it.

"Sorry, I suddenly forgot what I was saying for a minute…" Zoe said gravelly.

"Well, then," Bucky announced decisively, "I think we have outstayed our welcome, boys. Zoe, care to join us for the evening?" Zoe knew she shouldn't, but her body was on autopilot at this point. All she could do was nod her head yes

She watched as Bucky flashed her a smooth grin while he stood, holding out his hand for her. "Come on, little one." Zoe heard a small chuckle come from Steve as he shook his head standing and tossing a few bills onto the table.

"Where are we going?" Zoe asked, her hand reaching out for his as if they were magnetized together. Bucky’s grin widened as their hands met, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand.

“Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours, we’re just gonna go play some carnival games,” Bucky said, pulling her close to him. “Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll win you a prize.”

They exited the beer garden, now accompanied by a few others that Zoe didn't notice before. Steve leaned down to Zoe's ear as the lights of the carnival colored their skin a bright red and yellow.

"Your friend Lily really liked that bear I got her," he whispered with a toothy grin as a redhead behind Zoe snickered.

Bucky glared at his friend, pulling Zoe closer to his body before throwing an arm over her shoulder. Any alarm bells that were ringing in Zoe's mind due to Steve's words immediately stopped.

"What is he talking about?" Zoe looked up at Bucky as they approached the boardwalk.

"Nothing you should worry yourself about, sweetheart." Bucky told her darkly as they neared where the boardwalk met the sandy beach, rolling his eyes at Steve who shrugged innocently.

Zoe walked with him, her nails dug nervously into her palms and his hold around her shoulders preventing any other movement but to follow him, the spike in her heartbeat evident to Bucky and his companions due to the mouthwatering smell of her becoming more prominent.

Her boots sunk into the soft sand, making it harder for her to walk. Her intoxicated mind whirred as she questioned what she was even doing here with them.

One look at Bucky, she knew exactly why she left with them.

His mere presence completely compelled her to make stupid decisions.

The group kept walking along the beach, Steve falling back to walk with a redhead, who Zoe soon learned was named Natasha, while she stayed glued to Bucky's side.

"So… you wanted the fresh meat all to yourself, didn't you Barnes?" Walker's words came, slurred from behind them.

Zoe's breath caught in her throat, as her heartbeat thudded in her chest. As if he could sense her unease, Bucky's grip tightened around her, bringing her body slightly behind his, as they spun around to stare at the blonde man from the bar.

A deep growl left Bucky's chest, and Zoe could have sworn she saw his eyes flash to a bright amber color. "Get out of here Walker, before you do something you regret…"

"Yeah?" Walker slurred, throwing his arms out to his side with a cocky, drunken grin on his face. "Like what, Barnes? You're just a pussy--"

Bucky's body clenched like a fist before he lunged at Walker, grabbing him by the throat. The two of them wrestled, falling onto the sand as Zoe watched Bucky get the upper hand. Walker was pinned to the ground by his throat as Bucky leaned in, and Zoe saw his eyes flash yellow-- just for a second. She blinked and shook her head. It must be the alcohol.

Bucky snarled, lip curling as he bared his teeth. Walker growled back as the moonlight poured down from the sky.

"I said back off, Walker. You've been a thorn in my side for too long."

“Careful, Barnes or you’ll scare away your meal.” John hissed between heavy breaths against Bucky’s cheek and Steve steered Zoe away towards Natasha, John’s words dying out as her focus was drawn to the sultry redhead.

Natasha grabbed hold of Zoe with surprising strength and spun her around so her back was to the commotion.

“Let the boys handle Walker, he’s had this coming for a while. Just keep your eyes on me, ok?” Natasha said with a calming voice

She tried to move her eyes away from her and back to Bucky but she couldn't break off from Natasha's gaze. "What did he mean? I do-"

Natasha grabbed her shoulders with a soft but firm hand as she turned her around to face in the other direction. "Don't worry about a thing, Zoe. Everything's going to be fine." she cooed

Natasha made sure to keep Zoe’s face directed at the ocean when Bucky and Steve handled John.

“Anything you wanna say that’ll make it easier to end you Walker?” Bucky hissed into his face. "Numai că mi-aș dori să gust din acea gustare delicioasă înaintea ta, Barnes." Walker snarled and spat at Bucky, hitting him in the face.

"Alright that's enough of you," Bucky said, as he grabbed Walker by the neck. "Ne vedem în iad, idiotule", Bucky whispered in Walker's ear as he twisted his arms around, breaking his neck in one swift motion.

All Zoe heard was the snap of Walker's neck and her eyes went wide as she snapped her eyes up to Nat, who soothingly stroked her arm in an attempt to both comfort and distract the terrified woman.

"What--" Zoe started, her voice so quiet she wasn't even sure if she was speaking out loud, "What did he say?"

Nat smiled softly, shaking her head. "Nothing you need to worry about." Her voice soothed, "How old are you, sweetie?"

Zoe's brow furrowed for only a moment before another gentle swipe of Nat's soft thumb ran over her cheek and almost like a switch, her body felt tense but somehow calm. "27." She managed out as another smile spread across bright painted lips.

“Delicious,” Natasha said, moving her arm to wrap around Zoe’s shoulders.

“Nat,” came Bucky’s voice, Zoe shivering at the dark tone. “Why don’t you go help Steve, I’ll hang out with Zoe now.”

Zoe looked back, catching a glimpse over Bucky's broad frame of Steve smiling with glee as a guy she heard them call Sam tossed him a lighter.

"You never let me have any fun, James," Natasha said in a pouty voice as Bucky smirked.

"Yeah, because your idea of fun is very…messy."

Nat rolled her eyes before trailing her nail across Zoe's cheek and walking away. She felt a trickle of something on her face and moved to wipe it away, fingertips red with blood.

Zoe's eyes widened at the sight, panic began to creep up rapidly inside her as she wiped frantically at her cheek, every swipe of her fingers increasing the pain.

"Hey- Hey Zoe, Zoe look at me," Bucky grabbed her hand and brought it close to his chest, stilling her movements as he bent his knees a little to look her in the eyes.

"Wha- What's happening?" "Nothing. You're okay." He said in a low, calm voice to her and suddenly she could breathe more evenly.

"I - I'm okay" Zoe repeated, unable to take her eyes away from his own. The lights from the carnival above reflected in them and made the blueness look like a soft purple with waves of a deep navy crashing through it.

A calm smile, spread across his lips, as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, trailing his fingertips down her neck and across her throat, "Atta girl.." He whispered.

His voice soothing, but still, Zoe felt the need to close her eyes and take a deep breath to prevent herself from fainting, blood was something she was sensitive to ever since she was a child and everything around started to spin.

A warm breath tickled her face as cold hands embraced her cheeks, making her widen her eyes. His words sounded enchanting in her ears.

“There you are, sweet thing. I thought I'd lost you for a sec there. “ Bucky said with a soft smile as he slightly ducked to be eye level.

As they walked back towards the group Zoe couldn’t help but notice the odd shapes of the logs in the fire and a strange smell…what were they burning?

“This is going to sound crazy…but I swear your eyes just turned a different color,” Zoe said looking up at Bucky. “No, that's not possible… I’ve had too much to drink.”

He let out a low chuckle and looked at her with a wide and toothy grin.

“Maybe it was the lights from the carnival, princess, they get brighter the later it gets.” Bucky whispered in Zoe’s ear as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they approached the fire.

“Yeah, maybe…” Zoe mumbled more to herself than to him. She started getting that pit in her stomach again, but before it fully settled there, Bucky grabbed a beer from Steve and looked questioningly at her.

“You want one?” Bucky asked jovially, erasing all negative feelings from her mind.

Zoe smiled, "Sure." she said as he plucked another one from Steve's fingers, handing it to her.

"Hey! That was mine." Steve said, his brows furrowed but as Bucky's head flicked towards him, Zoe watched Steve's giant frame sink into the sand, grumbling as he found himself another beer. She wasn't sure why Bucky had so much power over him, but it made butterflies fill her stomach.

He turned back to her, "Shall we?" Bucky asked, pointing the neck of his beer bottle to the sand in front of the fire, urging her to sit.

Bucky sat with his legs slightly spread, and after a moment of deliberation, Zoe took a swig of beer and plopped down between them. She could feel him freeze and goosebumps broke out across her skin as he moved slowly, brushing her hair away from her neck. His breath was cool against it and Bucky wrapped his arms around her as she shivered despite the fire.

She felt the tip of his nose touch just behind her ear followed by a slight intake of breath, like he was breathing her in. With any other man it might have creeped her out, but with Bucky it felt almost too natural.

"So…are all these people your…friends?" she asked, feeling silly for even wondering. It was clear they were all close as they laughed and drank around the fire.

"More like my family. I've known them…well, for a long time," Bucky murmured.

His lips brushed against her ear, this time much more obvious. A shiver ran through her again and she felt him smile.

"Sorry, you smell so good…I can't help myself."

A soft moan escaped Zoe's lips, as she felt Bucky's breath against her skin. Her head fell backwards onto his shoulder as he dragged his lips along her neck, as he sighed. She felt his tongue brush against her pulse before he placed a light kiss against it, her eyes fluttering closed once more.

Bucky grinned into her neck, and moved suddenly to look at the rest of the group. "Hey let's continue this party at home" He spoke loudly, startling Zoe back into the moment. The other 3 all looked at each other, grinning and nodding quickly.

"Walker didn't deserve this much celebration anyway" Sam quipped, crashing a beer bottle into the fire, before all of them started walking off the beach towards a row of black motorbikes.

Bucky guided her with a hand against her lower back the entire walk, only retrieving back when they stopped in front of what she assumed was his motorbike.

He climbed up onto his Harley-Davidson WLA "Liberator". Turning his head to the side to face her, a smudge smile was plastered on his face as his eyes glimmered in the dim moonlight.

“You still wanna come, right?” Zoe nodded. “Then hop on, and hold on tight princess.” Bucky said as she climbed up behind him, arms clutching onto the sides of his jacket before he took her arms to pull her closer, chest against back and her arms embracing his body.

A little while later, the bikes rumbled to a halt in front of a decrepit and decaying looking house on the edge of a cliff. The lights were off, and the building was spray painted on the outside - mostly anarchy symbols and random graffiti. Bucky climbed off of his bike, taking Zoe's hand and slinging his arm around her shoulder as they walked toward the entrance. Natasha was in front, followed by Sam and Steve, who turned around and grinned at Zoe.

"You're gonna like it here, Zoe," he said with a smirk as the others laughed. Natasha kicked the door open with her boot.

Zoe felt a knot of anxiety in the pit of her stomach and gulped. She felt Bucky's arms wrap around her waist as she stopped at the entrance and stared into the blackness. To her left, she swore she saw a pair of glowing yellow eyes beaming at her before someone turned on a light.

And then something razor sharp on began to glide along her neck. Zoe felt something warm on her skin, realizing it was Bucky's tongue. She whimpered, eyes rolling back, and heard Bucky's low voice as it rumbled in her ear.

"Nothin' to be scared of, princess. I've got ya."

She swallowed thickly as Bucky placed a kiss just behind her earlobe as his hands gripped her hips. She could feel the arousal pooling between her legs and the heat creeping up her neck.

“I- I’m ok I just. I could have sworn I saw something.” she said as she moved her head slightly to face him.

“Don’t you worry, I’m not gonna hurt you.” he breathed.

Their eyes locked and suddenly a whirlpool of butterflies filled her stomach as his breath fanned her face, their lips barely touching.

"Stevie, find some music." He commanded, once again his eyes never leaving hers despite him speaking to someone else. "I'm gonna give Zoe the tour."

Steve snickered from behind them, causing Zoe to catch his gaze as Nat smacks him on the arm. Bucky hooked his cool index finger under her chin, turning her head back to him. "Come on, sweet thing, let me show you around."

Zoe bit her lip, watching as Bucky zeroed in on it, using his thumb to pry it from her teeth. “Sweetheart, don’t tempt me,” he said lowly, and her heart thudded, tongue swiping out to taste his skin. She nodded, not remembering his original question, but following him wherever he was leading her.

Her fingers tangled in his as he pulled her further inside, past thrift store couches and a table littered with cards and beer bottles. Heavy drums began pounding on unseen speakers, mimicking the hammering of Zoe's heart.

Bucky let her hand go briefly as they climbed a set of creaky stairs and she took the chance to pull out her phone. She was supposed to meet Lily after all and wanted to check in before the night went…well, wherever it was about to go.

Zoe quickly typed out a message and pressed send. As she slid the phone back into her pocket, they stepped onto the landing. A bright light on the ground caught her attention and for a moment Zoe thought she was truly losing her mind.

There, on the dusty hardwood floor, was Lily's phone, lit up from the message she just sent. A smear of blood covered the screen as it showed missed calls and texts, all from Zoe.

"Wait," she tugged on Bucky's hand, drawing his attention to her as she bent to grab the phone. Panic set in at the brightness of the blood against the lit screen before it went dark.

"Wha- What is this?" Zoe turned to him, trying to piece everything together. His face was dark and lips set in a thin line as he eyed her, seemingly impatient.

Bucky grabbed the phone out of her hand, crushing it in his fist as he replied nonchalantly; "Nothing to worry yourself with, sweetheart. Not anymore at least." Before pulling her into a dark room and pushing her against the door, shutting it and blinding her with the darkness that surrounded them.

Zoe sucked in a deep breath, and pushed her palms against the door, as she tried to orient herself in the darkness. "B-Bucky?" She spoke, her heartbeat starting to race.

A deep chuckle came from somewhere around her, and Zoe felt something sharp brush against her throat. "It's okay love.. Don't you trust me?" He rasped, caging in Zoe's body against the door with his .

She knew she should be more worried than she was, but something about him just fascinated her. The truth was that she did trust him, he'd saved her more than once tonight and even though she didn't know why, it was more than enough for her. "Tell me why Lily's phone was here" She commanded.

"Oh darling.. See I think you've figured that out all by yourself" Another deep chuckle, "She took quite the shine to Stevie out there.."

Zoe still couldn’t see anything in the darkness of the room. She thought there were flashes of movement all around but then again, she didn’t know what to think.

Her heart was beating faster and faster as Bucky inched closer to her face, his nose delicately touching her ear as he chuckled. She could feel his hands on either side of her body, and the chill of his breath against her.

Despite all her best instincts, warmth pooled in her belly as he slowly pinned his knee between her legs, pushing them open.

“I think you’re taking quite the shine to me, right? Because I can't have you leaving here unsatisfied,” he whispered against her.

"I--"

His chuckle was low and malicious in her ear as he took it between his teeth. Zoe felt something sharp again, and then pain shooting down the left side of her body, followed by the warmth of his mouth as he sucked on her earlobe.

"Don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet, sweets. Been watching you for most of the night. I thought you were the clever one. Thought you'd put the pieces together, but I guess I'll just have to show you, hmm, princess?"

His hand slid up her thigh and she moaned as he dragged a fingertip along the seam of her jeans. Zoe almost collapsed at unbearable friction and pressure against her clit.

Bucky pulled away from her, his eyes yellow. A pair of pearly white fangs descended from his mouth. The warmth in her belly began to turn into a full-blown forest fire. He was even more beautiful like this.

Slowly, she raised her hand and gently moved it to touch his fang. It was so sharp that she felt it pierce the tip of her finger. Bucky wrapped his lips around it, sucking softly as he moaned, eyes closing. She felt his knee grind against her clit and wetness began to pool as she moved her hips. A smile spread across her face as his eyes opened, locking with hers.

"I didn't like Lily that much anyway," she whispered.

Bucky grinned. His kiss felt like a car crash, and Zoe couldn't get enough of it.

Her lips parted as he dragged his tongue across her bottom lip. Zoe moaned into the kiss as she felt a hand digging into her skin as the other trailed up her back and found its way into her hair. Bucky weaved his fingers into her hair and pulled her head back as he bit her bottom lip and pulled back to admire the trickle of blood running down her chin.

He tilted his head slightly down and licked her chin. “You might just be the sweetest little thing I’ve ever tasted.” he murmured against her lips.

Zoe didn’t even recognize the moan that left her throat. Her lip stung from his bite but as his tongue glided across her skin it soothed the pain. For whatever reason, that seemed to blank her mind at the moment as his fingers expertly worked the button of her jeans, she wanted more pain if it meant his mouth on her.

“You make such pretty noises.” He hummed into her neck as he inhaled the sweet scents from her being worked up. “I want to hear them all.”

Zoe whimpered, one hand on his shoulder, the other twisted in the short hairs on top of his head, pulling lightly as she felt his fang scrape along her neck. This time when Bucky pulled back and his eyes flashed yellow she knew wasn’t imagining it, a grin on her face matching his.

“You gonna let me taste you everywhere doll?” Bucky asked, slipping to his knees as he pulled down Zoe’s pants, breathing in her scent.

She kicked off her jeans and Bucky lifted her up, wrapping her legs around him as he laid her on the nearby mattress. He laid between her thighs with a ravenous look in his glassy glowing eyes.

"Fuck," she breathed, Bucky placing soft kisses to the bare skin of her thighs.

"Just tell me and I'll give you what you need," he murmured against her skin.

Zoe whimpered before nodding, feeling the scrape of Bucky's teeth on her skin as he smiled. Another sharp pain, deeper this time, had her crying out, blood trickling down her inner thigh. She gripped the side of his cheek as he sucked at the broken skin before pushing his face between her legs. Tender kisses covered her clothed cunt, such a contrast to the viciousness of his bite.

"God, I'm going to fucking ruin you," he growled as her panties grew sticky with spit, arousal, and the blood from his lips

Bucky's eyes were fixed on her as he slid her panties down her legs, making her hiss in pain when they brushed over the fresh bite mark.

"Please…" Zoe whimpered, legs shaking as he ran his tongue first over the blood leaking from the bite then slid it between her wet folds as he parted them with his fingers.

Bucky closed his lips around her clit, moaning at her taste as the vibrations turned her legs to jelly. He pulled back to look her in the eyes as he said; "Please what, baby? Tell me," kissing up and down her thigh but never getting close to where her pussy throbbed.

"You're mouthwatering." He breathed right before he dove in for another bite, sinking his teeth right into her soul it felt like, his fingers slipping inside her and curling just as he took a pull of her blood and stars exploded behind her eyes.

Zoe's breath hitched and raced in her throat as she felt tears prick in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. The stimulation from the bite marks and his fingers caused her stomach to tighten.

A whine that escaped her lips, caused Bucky to pull back. He slipped his fingers out of her and pressed a light, tender kiss to her hip bone, trailing his fingers up and down the outside of her bare thigh.

"Hey.. hey.. I've got you, sweet girl" He whispered into her skin. "I want to take care of you Zoe, but I need you to know that if you say stop at any point, we do. Understand?" His yellow eyes fading back to their natural blue for just a moment as he peered up at her, his touch softening.

She nodded her head in response as a tear fell down her cheek.

"Use your words, sweetheart. I need you to tell me you understand.."

"I understand.. Please Bucky.. I want this" She assured him.

His fingers left her thigh and teased her folds as he let out a deep sigh, feeling her slick father on his fingertips.

“Mmm, I am so glad to hear that, baby.”

Bucky leaned forward to once again envelope her clit with his lips, pushing his fingers back into her throbbing cunt.

Zoe's eyes rolled back and she let out a groan, feeling his tongue massage her clit. She could feel his fingers pressing against that spot that made her brain fuzzy, and her hips began to grind slowly against his mouth. The bed sheets crumpled in her fist and she writhed and groaned beneath him. Bucky lifted his head.

"You're fucking exquisite, Zoe."

He turned his head and sunk his fangs into the same wound on her thigh, causing her to cry out. She watched with fascination and lust growing in the pit of her stomach as his fingers continued to thrust in and out of her. The pain combined with the pleasure pushed her right over the edge. Bucky drank deeply. Zoe took some pleasure in watching his hips rut against the mattress. They moaned together as her vision whited out.

He lifted his head, blood dripping down his throat and bathing his porcelain skin in crimson. The yellow eyes returned as he climbed off of the bed and stripped off his t-shirt to reveal a chest full of tattoos and a pair of dog tags around his neck. Zoe trembled and Bucky leaned over to lick the rest of the blood that clung to her thigh, his eyes snapping up to meet hers.

"I want you, sweetness. Forever."

Zoe's breath hitched in her throat as his blood tinged lips placed kisses up her tighs as he moved onto the bed to hover over her body. He nudged the hem of her shirt with his nose and scraped at the skin around her navel with his fangs.

"Can we take this off? I want to worship all of you, Zoe"

Her brain felt like tv static watching him, overwhelmed by her own senses and the metallic smell filling the air, his words bringing her back. "y--yes." She choked out as goosebumps trickled across her skin.

The corners of Bucky's mouth upturned, his teeth stark white against his dark red stained lips. Even covered in her blood, which should freak her out, he's still the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. Zoe untwisted her fingers from the sheets as his cold fingertips slid under the hem of her shirt, pushing the fabric torturously slow up her body.

She lifted her arms above her head, resting them against the flat pillows as he helped her from her shirt. Bucky tossed her shirt to the side, discarding it onto the floor as he linked his fingers with hers, still above her head as he hovered over her, his lips barely touching hers causing her eyes to flutter close.

"I knew it'd be you." He whispered before crashing his lips into hers.

Zoe moaned into the kiss, arching against Bucky as he moved one hand, sliding it to the curve in her back. He pressed her closer to him, their skin sticking as his pants scraped along her wounds, making her pull away, hissing.

“Shh, I gotcha sweetheart,” Bucky murmured, rolling over to his back and sliding his pants and briefs off. He pulled Zoe into him, his chest to her back, throwing her thigh over his, spreading her wide.

As his cock pressed against her entrance, he nuzzled at her neck. “Please, Bucky,” Zoe whimpered and he moved, sliding into her as he bit her neck.

She let out a gasp which turned into a ragged moan as he thrust into her, blood running down her neck and across her breasts. The low growl that came from deep within him made the hair on her arms stand up as he gripped her tighter. Bucky tightened his forearm around her waist until she was nearly immobile. She felt like prey, pinned down and captured by a ruthless predator. The thought caused her cunt to clench around his cock as Bucky moved faster, thrusting up deep within her as he continued to drink from her throat.

He released her neck with a moan as Zoe panted, dizzy with lust and loss of blood. A ragged sigh came from behind her head and suddenly Bucky's arm appeared in front of her, deep punctures on his pale wrist.

"Go ahead, I want to feel you when it happens," he rasped.

Zoe whimpered and pressed her lips to the cool skin, the coppery taste flooding her lips with an undertone of something….sweet.

Bucky's pace increased as she swallowed more of him, hissing at the sensation of her dull teeth against the sensitive skin.

"Good girl, that's it," he groaned as he felt her grow even wetter around him.

The sensation hit her like a brick, while Bucky’s cock slammed inside her. Her head felt like it was about to explode as a fire grew inside her. Zoe threw head back with a moan, slamming her eyes shut. “Holy fuck Bucky…” she breathed, licking her lips to get the remainder of his blood into her.

Bucky bit into her shoulder and sucked, dragging his tongue over the two puncture marks. He brought his wrist back to her lips as they both drank together. He released her and moved his hand to her cheek, turning her head and mashing their lips together, shoving his tongue against hers, their blood mixing in their mouths.

It was a feeling Zoe couldn't explain. She wasn't sure if it was the sex or the blood that was causing it, but she suddenly felt as if she was drunk. As if she had been downing tequila shots all night. Everything was spinning, but she didn't want it to stop.

She felt herself fluttering and clenching around him as more moans and growls filled the air around them.

Zoe could feel her pulse slowing. Everything was slowing down as he fucked her harder, pushing her toward her peak. It should be the opposite. Shouldn't it? Zoe became very aware of her breath as it rushed in and out of her chest. She could go longer between gasps. Her eyelids fluttered closed. Blood was smeared everywhere and all she could smell was copper.

He was controlling the pace of the thrusts and she could feel herself teetering right on the edge of bliss.

"Everything's blurry," she slurred.

His tongue laved against the bite mark on her neck and he pressed his bloodied arm against her mouth. Zoe drank and her heart beat slowed to a crawl, vision blacking out.

"Do you feel that?" He purred against the shell of her ear. "That's death. Take it, Zoe. You'll be brand new again, babydoll. I promise."

She came hard, closing her eyes tightly as she drank. Suddenly, everything stopped and her body went limp, but she continued to drink as instinct kicked in. Her eyes fluttered open and suddenly everything was brighter and more intense. The air rushing into her lungs felt cleaner somehow. The smell of blood was intoxicating instead of nauseating and her body trembled on top of his. She tore her mouth away from his arm and let out an animalistic, ragged howl. Her cunt clenched around him and she heard him laugh.

"There you are, sweet thing."

Zoe’s head was spinning with pleasure. She had never felt so alive as she did in this moment, with Bucky’s blood dripping down her chin as his hips rutted against her. He felt even more incredible inside of her hitting just the right spot as her nerves jolted with the build up of her second orgasm. She turned her head and captured his lips in hers in a passionate kiss, all tongue and teeth. Zoe pulled back hard with his bottom lip between her teeth.

“Tell me what you’re feeling, Zoe. It’s amazing isn’t it?” Bucky breathed against her neck.

She felt his fingers wrap around the cusp of her chin, thumb and index finger grasping her jaw. Where his skin was cool to the touch before, now it felt normal with tiny sparks lighting up her skin with the littlest amount of contact.

"I've never felt this way before." She sobbed, his cock hitting that spot over and over again. Zoe could feel her body begin to tremble again as the rubber band in her stomach wound itself up. "You feel incredible." She moaned.

Bucky groaned, his hips beginning to stutter in relentless snaps, "You're mine now, little one." He rasped and she could feel his tongue slide along the shell of her ear before he began nipping softly at her jawline, "As I am yours."

His cock slid along her walls, every ridge and vein feeling more prominent than before, lighting up places she didn’t even know had sparks. She felt that coil inside her snap as Bucky reached forwards, fingers ghosting over her clit.

Zoe’s back arched, her head thrown back on Bucky’s shoulder, a strangled scream leaving her bloodstained throat.

“Oh fuck, that’s it my sweet girl, feel it all,” Bucky groaned, thrusts getting sloppy.

A tingling started in her throat and worked its way to her mouth, turning into a dull pain as she felt the tips of her now elongated teeth scrape against her lips. Bucky's smile broadened to a truly heartstopping grin at the sight, pride and lust painted on his face.

"So fucking gorgeous," he breathed, pushing deeper into as he neared his finish.

Zoe whined, turning her head from Bucky's shoulder to rub at his neck as he pressed kisses to her skin wherever he could reach. A wave of heat rushed through her and without a second thought she sunk her teeth deep into the taut skin of his throat.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed as Zoe pulled hard, filling herself with more of his sweetness. It did nothing to stop the tingle in her throat, like an itch she can't scratch.

"I know baby, it's not enough for you," he groaned, seemingly reading her mind. "Fuck, keep goin' though."

She bit deeper as he let out a shockingly loud moan. With a messy thrust of his hips, his cock throbbed and warmth filled her as he came.

His hips slowed to a halt, as he tightened his arms around Zoe, pulling her into his body. Electricity shooting off on her skin at every slight movement. She kept her mouth attached to his neck, taking in as much of him as she could, swiping her tongue over her two fresh puncture wounds.

"Okay my love, we need to get you something real.." He whispered into her skin, running his fingers gently over the bite marks on her skin smearing the blood into their sweat, as all but one mark began to heal.

Zoe reluctantly removed her lips from Bucky's neck, only to turn her body and press her lips onto his, sharing the taste of him. "Bucky.." She whined against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck and combing her fingers into her hair.

"I know sweet thing. I'm right here" He assured her, kissing her once more.

Zoe felt reborn. She could hear the music beneath the floorboards, and bits of conversation. She smelled Lily's blood as visions of her being dragged through the hallway filled her mind. Zoe stared at Bucky and he smiled. They were bonded. His memories hers, and vice versa. Suddenly, she felt like she knew his entire history that was mapped out on his skin and in his veins. He didn't have to say a word.

"What do you mean by finding something real?" She asked.

Bucky nuzzled against her, lips ghosting along her jawline.

"You'll learn to give life, and you'll learn to take it… and enjoy it."

Zoe felt her fangs drop as Bucky stared at her, cupping her face in his large hands. They both grinned as she reached up and brushed her fingertips against his plush lips.

"I'm ready."

Bucky's eyes flashed yellow and he beamed.

"That's my girl."

#bucky barnes #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #marvel one shot #marvelous #smut #one shot #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction

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tennessoui · 3 years

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Please give me the TA scene where Vos takes Obi-Wan to a bar to get drunk and forget about Anakin and pick up some hotties but oh no Anakin is there and Obi-Wan is a little tipsy and doesn’t want to be rude so he goes to say hi. Then for the rest of the night when he tries to go Anakin pulls him back into conversation because he doesn’t want Obi-Wan going home with someone else

yes!!!!!! TIS THE SEASON (halloween)

(2.3k)(the first TA obi-wan snippet!!)

The thing about Quinlan that Obi-Wan hates the most is that his friend is the only person in the entire world that can out-stubborn him. That’s usually not a problem. But sometimes it is. Sometimes it results in Quinlan forcing Obi-Wan into doing something he’d rather not do.

All those people that say peer pressure isn’t really real have never met Quinlan Vos.

Obi-Wan sort of wishes he’d never met Quinlan Vos when the man shows up at his door on Friday evening carrying three different bundles of clothing.

“Because I’m nice, you get to choose what you want to be for Halloween,” Quinlan announces, laying out the options on Obi-Wan’s coffee table.

“Drunk and alone in my apartment,” Obi-Wan says. “That’s an option, right?”

“Just for that, I’m taking Indiana Jones off the table,” Quinlan replies, not sounding sorry about it at all. “I’ll be that one. I think I could make the whip look hot as hell.”

Obi-Wan crosses his arms and peers at the costumes. “Sexy nurse or sexy….Red Riding Hood? I’m not wearing that. I doubt it would even fit me.”

“Bullshit, you have a very dainty waist, Obi. But hurry up and choose because we’re going to be late.”

“We’re going tonight?” Obi-Wan splutters. “It’s not even Halloween!”

“It’s the Halloweekend, Obi-Wan. It’s like you’ve forgotten all of our sophomore year.”

Obi-Wan’s tried to block most of it out, that’s true. The parts he remembers, at least. “I think we’re a bit too old for Halloweekend, Quin,” he protests, staring down at the costumes. “And I--”

“Have been obsessing over this so-called hottest professor in existence, yes, I know.” Quinlan holds up his hand when Obi-Wan starts to disagree. “No, you know I’m right. I don’t want to hear your excuses. I’ve never heard you casually talk about someone so much and I’ve been there for all of your co-ed crushes. So what we’re going to do tonight is go and get your hot professor fucked out of your head, and the best way to do that is either sexy nurse or sexy Red Riding Hood. So.”

“I do not want this,” Obi-Wan reiterates slowly. “I very much am not aboard this plan.”

“Don’t make me invoke the BFFFOC, Obi,” Quinlan threatens.

The BFFFOC, or Best Friend Forever Failsafe Override Code, was thought up between them one night their first year of college. If ever one of them was going down a path that the other deemed unwise, they had the right to invoke the override and talk some sense into them.

“I don’t think me not wanting to dress in a slutty and offensive nurse outfit counts,” Obi-Wan protests loudly.

“It’s not about the costume, Obi, and you know it. It’s about this professor. You know you need to get over him. So get under someone else. I’d offer, but that would be in complete violating of--”

“BFFNBTBT,” Obi-Wan finishes with him, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I recall.”

That one, Best Friends Forever No Below The Belt Touching had been resurrected after a very unfortunate one night stand. The grounds for that code are some of the ones Obi-Wan is still trying to forget.

“Fine,” he snaps and hates himself for it. One day he’ll learn how to say no to Quinlan. “But I’m going with Red Riding Hood.”

“I thought you would!” his friend cheers. “The cape’s long enough to cover more of your upper thighs and you’re a bit of a prude.”

Obi-Wan snatches up the packaged costume from the table. “Fuck off,” he says, quite pleasantly in his opinion. “And I’m not paying you back for this.”

“You should shave,” Quinlan tells him as he turns towards his bedroom. “Really commit to the role!”

Perhaps tonight Obi-Wan will strangle Quinlan with his own length of Indiana Jones whip. The thought puts a smile on his face.

In the end, Obi-Wan does end up shaving. It’s not something he does often, but he’d looked at the costume. The dress doesn’t even come down to his fingertips. The hooded red cape somehow just a little bit longer.

And he thinks making Quinlan wait for thirty minutes while Obi-Wan gets ready is the very least of what he deserves.

Dragging out the process, however, doesn’t magically give Quinlan enough time to realize how stupid this is, because when Obi-Wan peers around the edge of his door, Quin’s on the couch in full Indiana Jones costume regalia, flicking through his phone.

“I look like a pervert’s idea about what Swedish barmaids looked like in the 18th century,” Obi-Wan complains, trying to flatten the hem of the flared out dress as he regretfully leaves the safety of his bedroom.

“That’s what the hood’s for,” Quinlan says sagely, looking up from his phone to take in Obi-Wan. “What, no makeup?”

“I need you to know that my biggest regret in my entire life will always be that I sat next to you on our first day of chem,” Obi-Wan tells him placidly, adjusting the cape around his bare shoulders. He hates to admit it, but the feeling of the inner fabric of the hood feels good against his skin. Soft.

“Oh, don’t say that, Obi, I’m sorry. You’re pretty without makeup.”

“I’m about to throw a punch,” he warns.

Quinlan grins and slings an arm around him. “Well then, looks like it’s time to go.”

----

They slide into two seats at the very crowded bar only thirty or so minutes later. Everyone around them is wearing some sort of costume, some so wild or revealing that Obi-Wan doesn’t even necessarily feel bad about the amount of skin he’s showing off.

Someone walks by in a golden speedo and Obi-Wan takes a gulp of his drink. At least this place does some heavy pours.

Quinlan leans into his ear. “See anyone?” he yells of the din of loud music and voices.

“I see a lot of people,” Obi-Wan reports back immediately.

“One more tongue-in-cheek response out of you, and I’ll make you do tequila shots, young man!”

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes, but then a girl in a french maid costume smiles at him flirtily from across the bar. His first thought is that he likes Professor Skywalker’s smile a lot better. Then he wonders about what Professor Skywalker’s doing tonight, if he likes Halloween. If he’s dressed up. If he’s alone.

“I would like two tequila shots,” he tells the bartender when she passes them.

“Obi-Wan, you shouldn’t have!” Quinlan tosses his arm around his shoulder and pulls him in for an awkward, but enthusiastic hug when the shots arrive.

“They’re both for me,” he responds. “You can choke.”

“You wound me so precisely,” Quinlan shakes his head, and flags down a bartender to order his own. Obi-Wan decides to ignore him, licking at the back of his hand quickly before sprinkling the salt onto the damp skin.

The first shot goes down easily, but he doesn’t even wait ten seconds before he’s brought his hand back to his mouth for another lick.

Halfway through, he looks up at the feeling of eyes staring at him. He follows his own instincts until his eyes latch onto bright, familiar blue ones across the way.

If he’d taken the shot, he would have choked in this moment when confronted with Anakin Skywalker, out of the lecture hall and looking so intensely at Obi-Wan that he feels strangely vulnerable. Examined.

He breaks eye contact with his professor when Quinlan’s arm tightens on his shoulder and he knocks their shot glasses together.

It’s second nature at this point to do shots with Quin, and he drinks his down automatically as his eyes can’t help but to dart back to Anakin--Professor Skywalker--at his table.

He’s sitting alone. Not even that dressed up. Obi-Wan has no feelings about this.

Quinlan, who is frighteningly observant at the worst times, clues into Professor Skywalker’s presence before he thinks he should, after only ten or so minutes have passed. “That guy is staring at you,” he whispers very loudly to Obi-Wan, taking a pointed sip of his newest drink. “Or maybe me, but he sorta looks angry whenever I touch you.”

As if to prove this, Quinlan moves in to place a sloppy kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek. Obi-Wan can’t shove him off quickly enough.

“Yep, definitely looking at you.” Quinlan concludes. “Looks blond, older than us, but like. Not ancient. What are you thinking? Wanna go over? I think you should, he looks like he’d give you a good time.”

Obi-Wan stares down at his drink. Quinlan doesn’t know what Professor Skywalker looks like. He doesn’t know that he’s actually cajoling Obi-Wan into the arms of the one person he’s set against him seeing. If Obi-Wan were a better friend, he’d tell him. But Obi-Wan isn’t. Obi-Wan’s feeling a little tipsy from the drinks, and his legs are all smooth, and he wants to talk to Professor Skywalker. He wants to see if maybe the man could want him if he’s wearing this. If he looks like this.

“I’m gonna go over and talk to him,” he decides in a rush, already lifting himself out of his seat. Quinlan crows in delight and reaches out to steady him when he stumbles a bit.

Water next, Obi-Wan thinks. He’s going to have water next.

It’s a short trip across the room to where Professor Skywalker is sitting. It just feels longer because of nerves. God, what is he doing? Why is he doing this?

But suddenly he’s at Anakin’s table. Suddenly he’s standing right in front of him, drink clutched in both hands, very aware of how much skin his outfit is showing off.

Anakin’s eyes dart down and the back up again before lingering at the exposed skin of his thighs. If it were anyone else, Obi-Wan would think he’s being checked out, but it’s his professor. And no matter how much Obi-Wan may want Anakin’s eyes to stick on him like a brand, he knows the older man would never want that same thing.

“Professor Skywalker, hello,” he finally says, fiddling with the straw in his drink. A few seconds later, he takes a sip, conscious of the way the man follows this motion. If it were anyone else--

But it’s not.

“Obi-Wan, I’ve told you to call me Anakin,” the professor scolds. “Especially outside of the classroom.”

“Sorry,” he says immediately. “Um. Anakin.”

Anakin’s arm drapes itself over the back of his booth as he sits more comfortably in his chair. “Please, sit.”

“I don’t want to intrude or anything, I just saw you and thought I would say--”

“Obi-Wan, sit,” this is a much clearer instruction. Obi-Wan drops into the other chair. Anakin looks him over again. “I have to admit, I didn’t have you pegged for being into this holiday,” he says roughly. “Or so committed to it.”

Obi-Wan thinks he’s probably blushing as red as his hood. “No, I um. You’re right. My friend, I--he wanted me to come out with him, and he only got me two costumes--I wouldn’t, but he--”

“Indiana Jones?” Anakin cuts in to ask sharply. “Sounds like a bit of a controlling boyfriend if he made you do something you’re not comfortable with.”

There’s an air of protectiveness in Anakin’s voice that makes Obi-Wan feel warm on the inside. Even though the professor couldn’t have been more wrong.

“No, no,” he corrects him anyway, even though a part of him is yelling that Anakin really doesn’t care that much about the details of his personal life. “We’re just friends. And I….”

He trails off, and Anakin arches one of his thick eyebrows in expectancy.

It may be that expression, the knowledge that Obi-Wan could give Anakin the answer he’s looking for, or the drinks in his system, but he finds himself continuing, admitting quite quietly, “I like it.”

Anakin straightens in his seat and takes a long pull of his own drink. “You like it,” he repeats. “Am I to assume you’re just a fan of the fairytale?”

Obi-Wan bites at his lip. He knows he shouldn’t say anything more, but....but they’re so far from the lecture hall here. It’s hard to remember why they shouldn’t talk about this. It’s hard not to let his mind wander to what he would say if the person he was talking to was not his professor, but a man he was interested in spending the night with, someone he was trying to seduce.

He shakes his head shyly.

“I like the hood,” he admits, because once he’s thought of it it’s incredibly difficult not to say it. He hardly even tries, if he’s being honest. “The cape is just long enough I can feel it on my thighs. And I like the skirt and--” he hesitates here, but it’s not called liquid courage for nothing. “The lingerie it came with.”

Anakin freezes with his drink halfway to his mouth. Slowly, he sets it back onto the table again and studies Obi-Wan with darkened eyes. His expression is unreadable and it makes Obi-Wan squirm in his seat.

“Fuck,” Anakin breathes out, the word almost lost to the roar of noise in the bar.

Obi-Wan fidgets in his seat. “Actually, sir,” he says suddenly. “I’m sorry, I should go, I only meant to say hello--”

“You should stay,” the professor interrupts, leaning forward and placing his hand on Obi-Wan’s forearm. The touch is electrifying. “For a drink.”

“Just a drink,” Obi-Wan agrees probably too quickly, a part of him responding to Anakin’s pleading expression perhaps more than it should. “My, what big eyes you have,” he jokes in regards to his professor’s begging look.

“The better to see you with,” Anakin replies immediately. For a second, his hand on Obi-Wan’s arm doesn’t move. Then his thumb strokes over the smooth skin there before he pulls back. “My dear.”

#asks #sorta cuts out right before the good stuff rip #but still!!!#fun to write and easy to write this time!!!#i did almost have obi-wan be a bunny but at the last second i was like lets keep it classic #and just a lil dirty #in this scene anakin is constantly thinking about how many days are left until the semester ends #he's like '2 months it's 2 months you can do this skywalker it's just 2 months'#'oh fuck did he just say he's wearing lingerie???? FUCK TWO MONTHS IT'S ONLY TWO MONTHS'#ta au #obikin #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi

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221bshrlocked · 4 years

Text

Be My Enemy, Be My Remedy

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 9647 (again, I wish I was sorry but I’m not)

Warnings: Angst and Smut. Rough sex. Breeding kink (sorry not sorry). Touch “kink” due to touch starvation.

Summary: You couldn’t really consider him as a friend, not because you didn’t want him to be but because he never gave you any inclinations for wanting to change your little “happy-hunting” arrangement, whatever that even was. So, that left you as partners...at best. But a mission gone wrong forces the Mandalorian to reevaluate his relationship with you, finally realizing you were not his enemy but the complete opposite.

A/N: Fasten your seatbelts ladies and gentlemen, here is the second Mando fic. I seem to be incapable of writing Smut without Angst, I don’t know why. Please let me know how I’m doing in the comments and how I can improve. Thank you!! Some quick notes: Beskad is a Mandalorian Sword and the Whistling Bird releases small guided munitions from the vambrace (forearm brace). I planned on including some *whispers* weapon porn but I got sidetracked and so expect some beskad and glove smut in the next fic enshallah.

For a bounty hunter who prided himself in never getting distracted from the hunting trade, the Mandalorian sure was preoccupied by the crystal spires reaching farther than the eye could see. You couldn’t blame him though, Christophsis was among the most exquisite of planets and not just those belonging to the Savareen sector. You followed behind and continued to glance next to you to make sure the crib was floating nearby.

“Where are you you doshing little shabuir? I know you’re around here somewhere.” You whispered to yourself as you kept moving away from the busyness of the noisy bazaar, hoping to the maker that the child wouldn’t wake up from the sharp calls of drunkards and sellers arguing over horribly brewed spotchka.

“Hey, told you to watch your language around the kid.” The Mandalorian hissed at you from ahead, turning his head slightly towards your narrowed eyes and glaring at you through the visor. Or at least that’s what you thought he was doing. With the way he was currently moving through the quieter streets, you knew he was definitely not happy with where the three of you ended up, let alone your lack of respect for his ‘parenting’ methods.

“Relax big guy, he’s in his crib dreaming of all the frogs his soft little heart wishes he could eat. Besides, you told me I need to practice my Mando’a.” You motioned towards the crib and rolled your eyes at him, raising an eyebrow when you saw the minuscule shake of his helmet before he looked down at the tracking fob.

“Not around the kid…” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his response because he just had to always get the last word in. Mando hoped his rough response would distract you from the way his body seemed to react to being called ‘big guy.’ He knew what you were referring to and yet he felt goosebumps erupt on his strictly covered skin at the thought of you saying those specific words but under different circumstances.

“Waadar Ke'sush'.” He hissed more to himself than you and didn’t bother to respond when you asked him what those words meant.

As you made your way towards the skirts of the town, you felt a pair of eyes boring into your neck and knew instantly the quarry must have known you were here. And you knew the Mandalorian could sense his presence as well when he placed the tracking fob back into his pocket and trailed his hands down to the blaster on his hip. You wished you could ask him why he continued to walk towards the forest but knew better than to question his methods. Any conversation held between the two of you might spook the bounty and the last thing you needed was to make a scene on a planet you weren’t that fond of being on to begin with.

But it was getting a tad bit annoying once you were far enough past the trees and the Mandalorian continued to walk through the brightly-colored plants.

“Shouldn’t we-” Before you could finish the question, Mando was turning around and shooting at a large tree not twenty feet behind you. You pushed the crib out of the way before taking out the beskad as well, squinting your eyes to try and see where the wanted Rodian was.

“Dank farrik!” You swore when you realized the Mandalorian was more likely to get a better shot than you because of the heat-sensors in his helmet. You felt useless, torn between shooting wherever he was and making sure the kid wasn’t harmed in the crossfire.

“Watch out,” it took you a second too late to realize that Mando was yelling at you and you fell backwards as one of the beams roughly grazed your thigh. As you attempted to wrap a band around the wound, you heard the familiar sound of the crib opening and before you could do anything, the child was already approaching you, his eyes filled with worry as he stretched out his little hand and shut his eyes.

“Oh no you don’t,” you put the hand down and make quick work of the wound, about to stand up and put the kid back into his crib.

“Haar'chak,” you looked up as soon as you heard the Mandalorian swear at the top of his lungs, the vocoder not hiding his anger and causing you to lose your equilibrium for a split moment. This was not the time to dwell on the effects his voice had on you or the fact that he was angry at you getting hurt. You wished to dwell on the latter thought for a little bit longer but shook your head to clear the haze his voice placed you under.

Putting the sharp Mandalorian weapon back into the holster, you realized you were of no use to the Mandalorian now that you were compromised, deciding to make sure the child was safe instead of running after the Rodian with him. But that plan was gone as soon as it came once you looked down and realized why the Mandalorian swore.

The kid wasn’t next to you.

In fact, he was nowhere near you.

Turning around, you saw the bounty holding the child against his chest, a knife in one hand and a blaster aimed at the little one’s head in the other.

“Wait,” you held out your hands against your partner and the quarry, refusing to let anything happen to the kid because of some stupid bounty. And as hard as you tried to dismiss it, you felt hurt at knowing that the Mandalorian was angry because the kid was taken and not because you were hurt.

“You’re getting soft Mandalorian,” the bounty, Tig Bayantik, smiled as he taunted the man behind you and you hoped he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Let him go,” the growl that emitted from the vocoder could have brought you to your knees under other circumstances, and you turned to look at Mando before returning your focus on the kid. Your heart broke at the thought of him getting hurt because of one simple and stupid mistake you made. A mistake that should cost you your life and not his or his father’s.

“Alright alright, everyone just calm down.” You forced a smile and kept your hands in Tig’s eyesight so he wouldn’t misinterpret your movements. “Let’s solve this like the rational adults we are. Tig, what do you want...besides us not coming after you?” You raised your eyebrows at him, hoping to steer the conversation your way until you trapped him with an offer. An offer you were most definitely going to regret as soon as it left your lips. But there was no other option. The last thing you expected was for something like this to happen. The child was only ever in dangerous situations when one of you was caring for him, never when the two of you were around. This was not ideal and you hated what you were willing to do to ensure his safety.

“Simple, your chain code for the kid.” He pointed at Mando and smiled when he noticed him shift uncomfortably.

“Why?” The Mandalorian hissed his question and you sighed annoyingly because since when did he ever question anything that had to do with the little womp rat.

“Since when do you ask questions Mandalorian?” Tig screamed and held the kid too tightly to your liking, causing you to lean forwards when you heard him cooing and moving his little hands towards you.

“Alright,” hoping he would follow your lead, you reluctantly took the beskad out of its holster and threw it at Mando, ignoring the obvious discomfort shedding off of him. As you asked him to give you the tracking fob, the Mandalorian thought of ten different ways where this could go from bad to worse now that you gave him the main weapon you had on you. He titled his head to the side when you asked him for the tracking fob and reluctantly threw it at you, watching in annoyance as you dropped it to the floor and stomped on it twice until it broke beneath your feet.

“I’ll do you one better, me for the little womp rat who couldn’t stay in his fucking crib a second longer.” You could see Mando’s little head tilt from your peripheral vision and weren’t sure if it was because he hated that you swore in front of the kid again or because he was most certainly not going to follow along with the sharade and considered the idea incredibly idiotic. Before he could say anything, you took a few steps forward, hands aimed towards the turquoise skies while silently praying to the maker that your hunch would be correct. When you saw Tig’s hands twitch and begin to lower the blaster from the kid, you knew you had him.

“You must be desperate.” Tig held onto the kid tighter and you hoped he wouldn’t question you anymore because at this point, you were sure you would be the one doing something stupid to get him back.

“No, I’m just the moof-milker who wasn’t supposed to care about some tinman and his foundling...and yet here I am.” Your admission filled the silent air and you thought you heard the bounty hunter lightly gasp behind you but knew better. Call it wishful thinking but if you were to ever make it alive out of this situation, with no one harmed, you were going to think of finally telling him how you feel. How you’ve felt ever since you joined his clan. No, that wasn’t it. You weren’t part of his clan. You just...were.

“I don’t have a single weapon on me...not even a whistle. Plus, I’ll fetch for a good price on Malachor…” You turned to your partner and held back from smiling once you saw the minuscule nod he threw at you. He couldn’t afford one of the munitions from his whistling bird hitting the kid, but he could use it if you took his place...or so you thought at least.

“That’s the...they pay in-” As Tig tripped over his words, you held back a sigh of relief because he was finally falling for the trap.

“That’s right baby, they pay exclusively in Nova Crystals...only a moron would let the opportunity slide from his fingers. Come on, what do you say? Last I heard, I was worth five-” Before you could finish your sentence, Tig was setting the child down on the ground, the blaster instantly aimed at your head so you wouldn’t think of escaping. You waited until the kid ran to the Mandalorian before stepping towards the Rodian in front of you.

“Smart man,” you hissed when he grabbed your arm and twisted it behind your back before pulling you flush to his chest, making sure the Mandalorian didn’t have an opening to shoot him.

“Our business here is finished Mandalorian,” Tig warned the beskar-clad hunter and you instantly felt sorry for him because it was one thing to threaten the kid but a whole other to warn him. As he stepped back and took you with him, you took a deep breath and shut your eyes, praying that if and when the munition hit you, it wouldn’t hurt badly. You snorted loudly before you could silence yourself and the Rodian dug his nails into your forearms. “What’s so funny girly?”

“Girly? Oh you’re dead meat now.” Almost instantly, you heard the Mandalorian fire two small munitions from his vambrace, falling backward in pain when sure enough, one of them broke the skin of your hip right before it hit the bounty in his side. He immediately rolled you down beneath him and was about to shoot you right between your eyes if it weren’t for the Mandalorian running towards the two of you and kicking his head. Your eyes widened in surprise when you realized he fainted from how hard the hit was, gaze instantly landing on the man standing above your battered body. You could tell he was definitely killing you in a thousand different ways but feigned ignorance at the obvious anger, smiling when the green goblin waddled towards you and stretched his hands out again.

“I thought I told you not to do that,” you warned him again, struggling to stand up and ignoring the heat rushing through your clothes when you felt Mando support your back. He let go when he noticed the way you reacted to him, thanking the maker for the helmet that hid his hurt expression. As you put the child back in his crib and shut it to ensure he wouldn’t get out again, you turned around and found the Mandalorian violently cuffing Tig and forcing him to stand up. He was a little dazed but knew better than to attempt and fight the Mandalorian. If you could feel the rage rolling off of him, then the Rodian was certainly aware of it as well. You kept on glancing at him and noticed the way he was clutching the beskad, a part of you hurt that he didn’t return it to you once he cuffed the bounty. There weren’t any more dangers, to your knowledge, but it still felt like he was purposely ignoring the weapon in his hand. Maybe he just didn’t trust you with it at the moment. You couldn’t blame him if he was reluctant to hand it to you ever again. It was a most valuable position and he was technically crossing a line by allowing you to use it so the fact that you felt the need to give it back to him must have struck a sensitive nerve. As your eyes took in his rigid form sulking and strutting ahead of you, you hated the way you were reacting to him holding onto the beskar sword and shook your head at how absolutely fucked up your mind was for thinking of him using that beskad a little differently on you.

The four of you made your way back to the Razor Crest in silence and you could tell the couple merchants left in the bazaar were staring at you as you made your way through the alleys. But you didn’t care for any of that because you now had another issue at hand. There was no way the Mandalorian wasn’t going to ask about why there is, or was, a bounty on your head. Those on Malachor who wanted you were known across the Outer Rim Territories, not because of the nature of their work but because of the history tied with them. Only a fool with a death wish would mess with the Zabraks and the Mandalorian was no idiot. He’d heard you saying how much you were worth. You knew he would never try and take up that bounty for himself, at least you hoped he wouldn’t. Not after everything you’ve been through.

But there was no way he wasn’t going to ask you to leave. The longer you thought about it, the quicker you realized he was probably going to just leave you on Christophsis. The kid was too important to him and he couldn’t afford losing him.

Hell, he was too important to you. Both of them were. And you wouldn’t want to take that chance if you were in his place.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of the Crest, clutching at your side and looking around you to make sure no one was following you. You pushed the crib up the ramp and vaguely heard the sound of the carbon freezer going off, muffling the rage of the Rodian who was sure he was going to be richer than the Empire in a matter of hours should he have taken you.

Reluctance filled your heart and you thought it better to not bother and attempt to get on the ship when you knew its owner no longer welcomed your presence. Looking to the side, you saw a dimly-lit turquoise tree bark on its side facing the lake behind the ship. Barely making it across, you threw yourself down and sighed, opening your eyes and looking out to the different shades of blue coloring the luminescent lake. You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there and you didn’t care. It was too beautiful to let your worries run with you.

It was bound to happen.

“What did I say about wasting time we don’t have?” The Mandalorian’s voice broke your daydreams and you jumped at the modulated voice, crying in pain when the gash at your hips oozed out more blood.

“Pfassk!” Hearing him swear beneath his breath before getting down on his knees to get a better look at the wound gave you butterflies in your stomach and you thought back to what happened earlier with the kid. Maybe he did care if you got hurt after all.

“It isn’t bad. The bacta spray will take care of this.” He grabbed your arm and helped you to your feet, his visor turning away from you when he met your eyes.

“You mean...o-on the ship?” You wished you didn’t sound so helpless but the thought of not being turned away from him put you at ease and you hoped he wasn’t just going to help you get back on your feet before leaving you. He wasn’t that cruel...

“No in the cantina.” His response was instant and you couldn’t hold back the laughter from bubbling up your throat even if you tried.

“Did- did you just make a joke? Maker, you...hah, you actually made a joke. Did I hit myself on the head or did you j-”

“Enough,” his grasp tightened around your upper arm and you swallowed the lump in your throat when his gruff voice hit your core. As soon as you went up the ramp, Mando was shutting it behind him, pushing you towards your cot in the back before leaving for the cockpit. You didn’t know what else to do so you decided to sit there until he returned. The bacta spray was in his quarters and there was no way in hell you were going to go there. You were barely hanging by a thread and feared how he’d react if he found you going through his things.

The bounty hunter, on the other hand, purposely left you there for a few moments to try and get himself together. As he plotted the course to Nevarro, and made sure everything was in place, he thought back to what you were willing to do to ensure the kid’s safety. And he wished he didn’t feel his heart swell with anticipation following your confession. Sure he knew you care for the child, you’d proven on many occasions that you have. But hearing you admit you cared about him stirred something into his chest, a feeling he purposely ignored these past few months of having you on the ship. A feeling which he tried his hardest not to humor because as far as he knew, you were strictly business partners, and nothing more. Hell, the two of you barely considered yourselves as that considering how often you headbutted during the hunts. He was forced to bring you on board because a pair of extra eyes were necessary to make sure the kid was safe. Had anyone asked him weeks ago about what he thought of you, he would have said he considered you as an acquaintance, since the word ‘enemy’ would have been a little too harsh.

Of course that would have been a blatant lie because this same feeling residing in the pit of his stomach grew every time he saw you interact with the child. Something about seeing you switch from being a deadly bounty hunter to a caring m-, a caring woman, made his chest swell with need and...dare he say, hope. It was a feeling unlike any other.

A feeling which quickly turned into a deep yearning when he finally noticed the effect he had on you as he tried to help you onto the Crest. He felt guilt wash over him because the purpose of the heat sensors was to track his bounties and not to fill his eyes with your heated skin and warm c-

A loud crash brought him out of his haze and as he descended the stairs and looked towards your cot, dread filled his soul. You must have lost more blood than he initially thought because you were lying on the ground with the child attempting to move out of his crib.

In an instant, he was carrying you into the makeshift bed, head shaking when he looked at you and saw you deliriously giggling at him.

“Must I almost die for you to finally remember I-” You attempted to joke to put him at ease but regretted it immediately when you realized it had the opposite effect on him.

“Shut up.” He left you sitting on the bed before bringing the kid to his quarters, warning him not to get out of his crib before aggressively grabbing the kit and returning to your side.

“Take your shirt off.” He barked out the command without giving too much thought to it and winced when he realized how careful he must be when he’s talking to you, especially now when you looked so weak and...fuck. No. He can’t think like that.

“P-pardon?” You were visibly shaking at the sudden request and wished you weren’t thinking of-

“Do you not speak Basic anymore? Take the kriffing shirt off.” You flushed under his gaze and looked away from him as you tried to remove the ripped article of clothing. When you hissed and lowered your arm, Mando sighed in annoyance because of course you wouldn’t be able to raise your arm.

“Not all of us can hide the pain behind a mask Mando, I just ne-” He didn’t let you finish your comment, setting everything aside and softly grabbing the hem of your shirt. You forgot how to breathe for a moment, looking at him quizzically when he remained unmoving for a few seconds. It occurred to you that he was probably waiting for your permission and you nodded slightly before looking everywhere else but him. Mando tried his hardest to control his reaction at seeing your soft skin and he was sure he was doing a good job until he saw your nipples harden behind the chest band.

Clearing his throat once, Mando stood up and helped you take your shoes off before preparing the bacta spray. “Will you...can you remove your pants?” His question was filled with reluctance and you wished with all your heart you could tease him about his tone but didn’t trust how he’d react to you.

“I-I’m sorry I- can’t. It hurts to bend d-”

“Okay.” For maker knows what time that day, Mando cut you off and moved closer to you, willing himself to take deep breaths as he unzipped the front of your pants and held them at your hips. As you raised yourself to help him get the pants off, you couldn’t help but gasp as soon as you felt his gloved hands make contact with your skin. Mando stopped moving and kept his visor away from your face towards the medical supplies on the bed to give you some form of privacy. He could hear your heartbeat elevate, could feel your skin growing hotter beneath his touch, could almost smell the scent of your arousal sticking to the humid air. But he chose to ignore it, all of it.

Slowly pulling the pants off, he maneuvered you around until you were facing towards the wall.

“This might hurt a bit Ad'ika.” The endearment left his lips before he could stop himself and he felt you still under his touch.

“What- what does that mean?” Your voice was weaker than usual and he didn’t know he could feel any guiltier than before but the way you responded to his touch and his voice had him growing hard in his pants and if it weren’t for the fact that you entrusted him with caring for you, he would have pushed you down to the bed and swallowed those little sighs and whimpers until you begged him to stop.

“I’ll tell you later.” The Mandalorian was never one to avoid such simple questions and you knew he could definitely see goosebumps growing across your skin once you realized why he might be refusing to tell you now.

You felt the cold sting of the bacta spray spread across your thigh and grabbed the nearest object to you which so happened to be his forearm. Shutting your eyes harder than intended, you hissed out in pain when you felt him mirror your actions and tighten his fingers around your wrist.

“Ni'm Ni ceta, Cyar'ika.” He whispered as he moved you around to face him, not giving you a chance to adjust to the position as he sprayed your hip. You didn’t let go of his arm once and felt hot tears rolling down your cheeks the more he pressed the medication into the open gash across your hip. He continued to whisper in Mando’a and you found it more soothing than you liked to admit even though you understood absolutely nothing of what he was saying.

“M-mando please...I can’t- s-stop ple-” You cried out when the bacta spray hit the deepest corner of the cut, hands instantly moving to his shoulder and fisting into his cowl before unintentionally pulling him closer to you. Mando placed the top of his helmet against your forehead, willing himself to continue and care for you even though his touch was only bringing you pain in that instant. He almost shook his head when he noticed what he was doing, the gesture going completely unnoticed by you because he never told you what it meant in his culture to lean one’s head against another’s. He enjoyed the moment and whispered his apologies the harder you began to shake in his arms.

“Gedet'ye Cyare, I’m almost done. Take a deep breath for me,” he waited until you sucked in as much air as you could before applying the bacta spray to the last corner of the wound, setting it down and staring into the gash until he saw it slowly closing. You weren’t sure how long he sat there looking at you but you knew he could see the effect he had on you because his visor moved back and forth from the wound to where your thighs shifted. Once he was sure the skin was almost healed, he stood up and stepped away from you, already missing the heat of your skin touching his clothed armor.

“Vor entye,” you weren’t sure why you felt the need to thank him in his mother tongue and hoped he wouldn’t dwell too much on it as you attempted to stand up. As you held out your arms to keep your balance, the Mandalorian was next to you in the blink of an eye, holding onto your waist to prevent you from falling over.

“You need to get some rest.” He half-yelled at you and you wished he wasn’t standing so close to you because one more rough command and you were going to fall on your knees and beg him to fuck your mouth.

“No, I need to use the refresher.” You were surprised by how steady your voice came out and refused to be distracted by the way his fingers continued to twitch against your bruised hips.

“You can barely stand without my help.” Mando was frustrated beyond measure and recalled back to what he was thinking of when he was in the cockpit. A slow realization came to him and he stepped away from you when he knew it was never anger that bugged him whenever you challenged his commands, but frustration. More particularly, sexual frustration. Because if there was ever a time you looked absolutely divine, it was when you were fuming and yelling at him at the top of your lungs. And for some odd reason, he loved seeing you stand up to him.

“I am using the refresher. I feel sweaty and disgusting and wet a-” You probably shouldn’t have said that last bit because Mando was letting go of you and collecting the supplies, not bothering to look back at you as he unlocked his cot and set the kit aside before checking on the kid.

You mentally smacked yourself at the ridiculous word vomit and grabbed the nearest dry shirt and undergarments before wobbling to the refresher. Once the Mandalorian was sure you were in the refresher, he took the child to his little space near your cot and rubbed behind his ears until he fell asleep. He kept on looking at the door of the refresher, a part of him worried you’d slip and hit your head if it became too foggy in there.

He was finally allowing his thoughts to become less hostile and worried when he picked up on a faint groan. Standing against the refresher door, he remained silent and shook his head when he heard you moan a string of ‘fucks’ a few times before something fell.

“Pfassk,” shutting the curtain around the child, the Mandalorian walked to his cot and began to strip out of his armor. He refused to dwell too much on what he was about to do and the meaning behind his actions. Before long, Mando was standing in the middle of the Crest as nude as the day he was born and he took a deep, calming breath before taking off his helmet and setting it on the ground. Walking to the control box, he shut the lights off and ignored your sudden cries at losing sight of the room.

He approached the refresher and hoped what he was about to do wouldn’t pull your relationship apart, whatever that relationship was. Unlocking the door, he waited at the foot of the small room before stepping in, the heat of your shower already making him lose his mind.

“Mando?” Your voice came out hoarse and he dug his nails into the palms of his hands to prevent himself from jumping on you right then and there.

“Hmm.”

“Why...w-what are you doing?” He hated how much fear was laced in your words and realized you might completely misunderstand his actions.

“Making sure you won’t fall and die on me.” The Mandalorian hoped his voice emitted some semblance of control and when you said nothing, he panicked and thought of the worst. Unbeknownst to him, you were struggling for a response not because you wanted him to leave but because he wasn’t wearing his mask. He chose to take his mask off and be in the same room as you. True the lights were off and you couldn’t see even a foot ahead of you but it was still a big deal, even more so for him. And maker, his voice was smoother than the finest Opaline Creed honey. You weren’t sure what you expected it to sound like but you genuinely thought the vocoder was what made it sound so guttural. Turns out, it was already smooth and deep and was just intensified through the helmet. You felt your legs shaking at the knowledge of hearing that same voice whispering the filthiest things in your ears and instantly decided to move away from that grey area.

“T-thank you.” The soft exclamation shot through his spine and he didn’t bother to slow his movements as he pushed open the door of the even smaller privy and stepped through. Years of adapting to the mask as well as walking around in the darkness of his ship without it allowed him to see where you were standing. He could just make out the shape of your curves and held back a moan when the water hit his tired muscles. You refused to move an inch, afraid to break whatever spell fell over the two of you and allowed you to be in close proximity. The bounty hunter rarely articulated his inner thoughts and emotions so anything you could say might genuinely spook him.

When your hand fell from your chest to try and readjust the heat of the water, it accidentally trailed over his skin and you gasped when it finally occurred to you that yes, he was very much as naked as you. His mask was not the only thing that was off. You weren’t sure what that meant for him or for you apart from the fact that he felt the need to strip off his armor, physically and metaphorically, to ensure your safety.

“M-mando…”

“Mesh'la, if you keep calling for me with that sinful voice, I- I am not sure I will be able to restrain myself.” For the first time since you’d joined him on the ship, Mando was losing his patience and control, and he hoped his words wouldn’t scare you away. He never sounded so...breathy? Was that even the right word? It took you a few longer moments to finally register what his words meant and you set the soap on the shelf before stepping towards him. You could sense the moment he acknowledged just how close you were to him because he finally let himself react to your heat and gasp at knowing you were within arm’s reach.

“T-then don’t…” The words were left hanging in the damp air around you and you thought you crossed a line which he so obviously sounded like he didn’t wish to move past.

But Mando was on you in the blink of an eye, grabbing your hips and pushing you roughly until your back hit the cold wall, the feeling of his wet skin sliding against yours turning you on way more than it should. Before you could have any time to react to the sudden movement, Mando was leaning down and hoisting you up against the cool metal, moaning against your cheeks when your legs crossed behind his back and pulled his achingly hard cock to your heated core.

“Mando, oh fuck- I...y-you’re-” You wrapped your arms arond his neck and felt the soft hair at the nape of his neck tickle your skin. You couldn’t hold back even if you tried, fingers instantly fisting in his hair and finding it much longer than you thought it would be. Mando groaned and felt himself growing harder as you bucked your hips against him and the thought of finally sheathing himself inside you drove him mad with lust. He felt how warm your cunt is and his knees almost gave out when for a moment, he brushed against your clit and felt you whimper beneath him.

“Ad'ika, I- I need you...I burn for you. Please, sweet girl, will you let me have you? I can feel you pulling me in...can smell your wetness calling for me.” You were sure you died and joined the stars because the man before you rarely spoke and here he was spilling his heart’s deepest desires unabashedly and rather enthusiastically. You threw your head back as he bucked his hips against you and bit down on your neck, smiling when you knew you’d wake up to numerous bruises and marks coloring your skin and showing the universe whom you belonged to.

“Please...pl-please, I'm yours Mando, do what you want with me. T-take whatever you want, ohh ffuh- fuck me until I...till I can’t feel anything but your cock. Kriffing hell I-” Mando couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. He knew he should prepare you for him. He knew he should make sure he wasn’t forcing you into anything. But your words nudged at that primal lust he reserved for you and in that moment, only one thing mattered.

Making sure he marked every single inch of you until he didn’t know where he ended and you began.

With as much focus as he could muster up, Mando trailed one of his hands down your thighs and took himself in his hand, jerking the head of his cock against your wet slit and feeling you shiver at his ministrations. Bracing his feet better against the warm floor, Mando ceased to breathe as he thrust harshly inside you, swallowing your moans as he brought his lips against yours. The two of you couldn’t move a muscle for a few seconds and Mando thanked the maker you weren’t trying to meet his hips because he was sure he would cum right then and there should you clench any harder around him. You couldn’t get enough of the way his tongue danced against your lips and you tried your hardest to keep kissing him for as long as possible. But then he was pulling away and nipping at your neck, and you swore he was going to be the death of you because you never pictured him with a beard and now you were feeling it rubbing against your already hyper-sensitive skin.

“Mand-” You whimpered into his lips once more and felt him become more aggressive by the second.

“None of that...my name is- it’s Din. Remember it, memorize it...fucking say it as you take my cock into that wet, tight cunt of yours. I-I want you to scream my name as I fuck you sweet girl...I want to hear these walls shaking with how much I pleasure you.” You couldn’t wrap your head around what he’d just willingly allowed you to know. It was too much to take in and you felt tears rolling down your cheeks as you realized what this man has done for you in the span of a few hours. Din faintly heard you sniff and hoped he wasn’t hurting you in any way.

“Din,” he curled into you as soon as his name left your lips, unable to stop himself from pulling out and plunging back into you time and again just to hear you whisper his name in his ears. He was intoxicated by the little sounds you were emitting, squeezing your thighs and making sure you were holding yourself up as he began to pound into you until the only sounds left in the small room were his skin slapping against yours and the running water.

“Oh- gah...D-Din, I-” You couldn’t form a proper sentence even if you tried, fingers digging into his back as you felt his cock hit near your cervix. Before you knew it, you were clenching around him, screaming his name as you arched your back and came on his dick. Din growled when he felt you squeeze his cock, his hips stuttering for a moment before he continued to fuck you with abandon, carrying you over the edge once more until you were a moaning mess.

“Fuck, ah Cyare...you’re everything I dreamed of a-and so much kriffing better...I- I want to brand you darling...I want to leave my mark on every single one of your holes. So, fucking, good for me,” Din couldn’t believ what he was saying because a part of him felt guilty for using such filthy language with you. But he didn’t want to stop, he wanted you to know how much you affected him. He yearned for you and wished with all his being to become one with you in every single possible way.

“Din, Din...oh pfassk- cum for me. Cum for me please, fill me up...let me feel you hot and deep inside me.” You begged for him and prayed to the stars he wouldn’t be turned off by what you were asking of him.

“Mesh'la...you- is that what you want? You want me to cum inside this sweet little cunt? Want to walk around with my seed leaking down your thighs- ah fuck, you’re a dream. A kriffing dream...and you’re all mine. Mine to fuck when I please, mine to mark- ah by the gods woman...mine to fucking breed when I feel like it.” Din was no longer in control of himself, grinding his teeth before he leaned down and attacked the skin of your chest. You clenched around him when you felt his teeth nip at your nipples a little harder than you liked. But you didn’t have the heart to tell him to go easier on you. It was intoxicating how much he wanted you and you didn’t want this to end because now that you’ve had a taste of how much of a generous lover he is, you didn’ want to give it up, even if it meant having purple and blue spots coloring your body the following day.

“Yes, yes...Din, ‘m all yours. Please-” He wasn’t sure if it was your desperate pleas that forced him to cross that threshold or if it was how sinfully warm your cunt felt as he thrust into you time and again. But it didn’t matter because Din was close to losing his mind as he stilled all his motions, cock pulsating and shooting his seed so deep inside you he was sure you were going to have another kid running around the ship. In all honesty, the Mandalorian was not sure he wanted to have another child but the image of your grown belly was engraved into his mind now and he didn’t know if he could ever stop himself from bending you over every part of the ship, at any given moment in time, and breeding you until you couldn’t feel anything but his hot cum filling your insides.

You were gasping for air at this point, leaning down and sucking on his Adam's apple just to get a rise out of him. You smiled when he unintentionally jutted against you and somehow managed to push his hot seed deeper inside you. Maybe he was more touch-starved than you initially thought...

“Mine. All mine,” he whispered right before slowly setting you down on the ground and you hissed when you felt him pull out, the sudden emptiness making you wish he could stay inside you just a little while longer.

“Come on, it’s going to get cold soon.” His words seemed calculated and you almost got a whiplash from how quickly he managed to compose himself. As he shut the water off and stepped out, you were met with a thousand doubts and the Mandalorian must have sensed your reluctance because he grabbed your arm and forced you to get out of the privy, quickly wrapping a towel around you before opening the door of the refresher and pulling you along with him.

A quick look at the child’s curtain and Din knew he was still fast asleep. Not knowing what to say after your activities, Mando unlocked the door to his quarters and turned around to face you, taking hold of your towel and softly passing it over your wet skin until he was sure you were dry enough to not catch anything. You waited patiently until he dried himself off and stood there in silence, hoping he wasn’t going to turn you away.

You felt a faint touch smoothing through your fingers before engulfing the palm of your hand and you let yourself smile at the thought of Din being so shy with you even after the last hour or so. You stepped closer to him and rested your head on his chest, rubbing your cheeks on him before kissing across the scarred expanse of his skin. Din was having a hard time, in more ways than one, keeping himself in check but feeling your lips leave open-mouthed kisses on him broke the thin thread he was hanging by.

Before you could say anything, Din was leaning down and carrying you in his arms, immediately taking your lips into his as he kneeled down and stepped into his cot. He quickly shut the door of the semi-private corner in hopes of not waking the kid. Now that he knew how loud you were capable of screaming, he wasn’t planning on terrifying the child and making him think he was hurting you in some way.

“Din-” You melted into his arms as his fingers massaged down your arms, stilling when they reached your navel before slowly pushing your thighs open.

“Cyare...the things I want to do to you. You make me want to lose control.” His admission twisted your stomach and you turned your head to the side to avoid his words because as much as you enjoyed hearing how much you affected him, it was embarrassing to listen to him praise you in such a way when up until hours ago, he barely managed to keep a conversation for more than five minutes. Din noticed the shift in your body language and retracted his fingers, choosing to lay them on the covers beneath you so you didn’t feel too overwhelmed with his presence.

“Did I offend you sweet girl?” He grinned against your cheeks before laying lazy kisses across your clavicle, smiling when he coaxed more needy moans out of you.

“N-no, no it’s...I- I’m just not used to-” You tripped over your words and wished he wasn’t distracting you with his lips so you could try and tell him what you were thinking of.

“Being told you’re a good girl?” Mando could tell he struck a nerve because you shifted your thighs and arched your back against him when his hand shot to your legs to keep them from closing.

“I- uhh, that’s n-not wha-”

“Come on Mesh'la, since when do you get so tongue tied while talking to me?” Din knew he was pushing all your buttons and wished you could finally lose it and try to challenge him because he was as ready as he’d ever be now that he sort of knew where you stood with him.

“Din, I don’t want you t- to think that I...that you need to do...this, because I...I can’t bear the thought of you pushing me away if you...oh maker, if you regret this tomorrow.”

Whatever the Mandalorian thought you were going to say, he was certainly not expecting such a nervous response to his actions. He wished he wasn’t so hostile with you since you joined him but he was only trying to protect the kid, and himself. The fact that you thought he was with you out of pity and not because of how much he wanted you was preposterous and as much as he wanted to ease all your worries away, he couldn’t deny how hard he became just from hearing your small voice telling him to not regret sleeping with you.

Without giving you any warning, Din pulled away from you, grabbing your hips aggressively before turning you on your stomach. You barely had any time to react as he forced you on your knees and shoved his hands into your hair to pull you against him. Your hands shot to his calloused ones and grabbed onto them like your life depended on it, whimpering and shaking in his arms as you felt his cock slide across your wet slit.

“Feel how much I want you Cyar'ika, how much I crave being inside this sweet cunt,” Din shoved three fingers inside your pussy and growled when he felt his cum mixed with your wetness and rolling down his palm. “You drive me mad with lust baby and there is nothing, absolutely nothing in this universe, that will ever convince me to not want you.”

“D-din…” You cried his name as he continued to fuck you with his fingers, not bothering to let up as he felt you reach your peak and gush down his hand onto the covers. You tried to grab his wrist and beg him to stop but he didn’t, couldn’t if he tried. Letting go of your hair, he slapped the hand grabbing at his wrist away before wrapping those same fingers around your throat, pushing you back against his chest as he continued to finger you until the only sounds he heard were your desperate pleas for him to slow down

“That’s right, scream my name sweet girl. Fuck...I could smell your cunt. L-let me have a taste, please.” Not bothering to wait for a response, Din pushed you down and laid between your thighs, immediately descending on your heated slit like a parched man in the middle of Tatooine looking for a drink of water. Your hands shot to his hair and pulled on it as soon as you felt his beard tickle the inside of your thighs. He was being rough, he knew he was being overbearing and a little too much. But he didn’t know how to respond to your doubts so he thought it best to show you just how much he needed you.

Din groaned as he licked and sucked on your clit and when you tried to push him away, he clasped his hands above your navel and kept you close to him, not caring that your thighs were crushing his head as he took your clit between his lips and roughly swiped his tongue on it.

“Ahh D-din I can’t…please n-no more-”

“You’ll take what I give you Mesh'la,” Din let go of you and kneeled above you for a few moments to allow you to catch your breath. When he could hear your heart rate almost return to normal, he once again turned you around on your stomach before raising your hips up against him. Spitting on his fingers, he jerked his cock a few times before repeating the action and rubbing it across your pussy, chuckling when you tried to lean away from him.

“Don’t even try to run away from me. You asked me if I really wanted to fuck you so, here is my answer. Take my cock like the sweet little girl you are,” nudging your wet lips with the painfully hard head of his dick, Din snapped his hips forward until he was completely sheathed inside you, his chest shaking with anticipation at the thought of being able to fuck you again.

“Oh kriffing hell you feel so tight around me, so wet and tight and perfect. Can you feel me Cyar'ika? Can you feel how much I burn for you, how much I need you- oh maker, you’re better than what I’ve dreamed of.” He didn’t care what that last admission implied because if it meant putting you at ease then he’d say it over and over again until you believed him. As he thrust into you relentlessly, you didn’t know what else to do except bite down on your forearms and beg for him, not sure if you wanted him to slow down or fuck into you harder.

“Ner...all mine. Don’t want anyone else, ne-never wanted anyone else. You’re it for me Mesh'la. Oh fuck, I could feel you pulling me in deeper sweet girl.” The Mandalorian could feel you shaking beneath him and his chest filled with shameless pride at the thought of knowing he was the one bringing you this much pleasure. He forced himself to keep his eyes open so he could see your dimly-lit body obeying his every command. When he saw you biting down on your hands, he fell forward on top of you and brushed your hair to the side, biting at your shoulder blades as he rutted against you.

“Your sounds belong to me...your sighs, your moans, your fucking pleas. They belong to me so don’t fucking hold back.” Din growled his commands into your neck before wrapping one arm across your sternum while the other maintained its violent hold on your hips to help you meet his thrusts. He pulled back up again and took you with him, continuing to whisper in your ears as he felt your cunt squeezing his cock before pushing it out. Your whole body convulsed in his arms and Din couldn’t believe what he felt rolling down his thighs. He maintained his hold on you as he rammed his dick inside you again, barely managing to turn your head around so he could kiss you.

And as he swallowed your whimpers, he marveled at how much you were willing to give him, feeling his heart skip a beat when he realized you have placed complete trust into his hands and allowed him to do what he wanted. The desperation of wanting to be with you in every possible way drove him mad and he barely recognized his own self when he pulled from your mouth and breathed heavily against your cheek.

“Fuck, ah kriffing hell- I don’t want to leave this cunt...want to fill it up with my cum till you can’t fucking breathe from how full you are. Fucking beautiful, letting me touch you, brand you...breed this tight pussy over and over again.”

“Din I- please...cum for me, I want to f-feel you cum inside me- I need you to- I can’t wait. Oh maker I l-lah ahh-” Din lost his rhythm as soon as he heard what you almost said to him, pushing you down beneath him as he shoved his cock a few times inside you before you felt him pulse against you, hot streams of his cum painting your walls and driving you over the edge one more time before completely stilling. His hips continued to buck against you and you knew he was trying his hardest to ensure you wouldn’t lose a single drop of his seed.

The two of you fell over and you hissed when Din pulled out and turned you over, immediately pushing his softening dick back inside you once he found a comfortable position. You laid your head against his chest and smiled when you heard his heart beat against your cheeks. The two of you sat in silence, with Din drawing patterns on your shoulders while you kissed the scars painting his skin.

It was a while later when you heard him sigh once that you knew what he wanted to say but was reluctant to admit.

“Go ahead, I know you want to ask.” You whispered to him, hoping any loud voice would break the blissful haze and make him turn you away, even though he told you there was no chance of him ever letting you go now.

“I didn’t want to presume I had a right to ask.” He leaned down and kissed your head before wiping away the wet hair from your face.

“You have the right to do anything you want with me, Din.” The Mandalorian was surprised by how matter-of-fact your admission sounded and he couldn’t understand how you made such an amount of trust sound so easy and straightforward.

“What do the Zabraks want with you, Cyar'ika? There are only a few of them around so you must have done something deserving of their attention.” He didn’t want to make it seem like he was judging you and hoped you didn’t misunderstand why he wanted to know.

“I- I may or may not have found an ancient “artifact” that belonged to an important ancestor of theirs...and I may or may not have given it to-” You didn’t know if you should tell him about the mutual friend and felt your chest tighten when he urged you to continue.

“To whom?”

“Ahsoka Tano.” His silence made you nervous and you were about to ask him if he was angry at you for not saying anything but he returned to massaging your back before speaking up again.

“That’s why she recognized you.” You heard his smile when he spoke and felt at ease immediately because he really was much softer than he let on.

“You noticed that did you,” you chuckled against him and hummed in pleasure when he pulled you up to kiss him.

“Did you mean that?” Din asked as he continued to touch every inch of your skin he had access to.

“Hmm?”

“That I have the right to-” He couldn’t finish the sentence because while he knew he meant every word he said, he wasn’t too sure about what you wanted from him.

“Yes, Mando.” Din frowned at your use of his nickname and rolled you under him, ignoring the way you whined as he slipped out of you.

“Don’t...please, sweet girl. Please say my name...when we’re alone.” There were so many promises hiding behind his request and you weren’t sure what you were supposed to say at such a heartfelt admittance.

“Din, I-”

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Anything you want with me, from me...I’m yours Din, always.” You laid your hands on his cheeks and pulled him to your mouth, swirling your tongue against his before tightening your grip around him as you felt him nudge at your entrance.

“Mesh'la...Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Ni nu’ru'kir. A Ni vaabir.” His voice was soft as he whispered those words against your lips and you wished to ask him what he was saying but decided to bug him about it later. Right now, you wanted to enjoy the moment and feel his warm skin slide against yours. A part of you, a very small part, hoped he would have a slower stamina because you weren’t sure if you were able to do anything else in the next few hours. But you knew, in your heart, that you would give him anything, and all of you, even if he didn’t ask you to.

Translation (which are not always accurate but I tried):

Doshing - A “derogatory” modifier

Shabuir - extreme insult; "jerk", but much stronger

Waadar Ke'sush' - Pay attention.

Haar'chak - Damn it!

Moof-milker - A term for a dimwitted individual

Pfassk - An adaptable expletive

Ad'ika - Little one

Ni'm Ni ceta, Cyar'ika. - I’m sorry.

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Gedet'ye - Please.

Cyare - Beloved

Vor entye - Thank you

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Ner - Mine

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Ni nu’ru'kir. A Ni vaabir. - I love you. I shouldn’t. But I do.

#The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian smut #mando x reader #Mando smut #Mando fanfiction #Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin smut #Din Djarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #baby yoda #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Note

request please? lately i have been having a lot abandonment anxiety when it comes to friendships and i was wondering how you think javi or din might help someone with an anxious attachment style? thank you lovely 🥰

Irrational (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: above ^^

W/C: 2.8k

Warnings: language; talk of fighting and weapons, reader has a panic attack PLEASE be aware that it’s coming and somewhat descriptive.

A/N: I really really love this! I hope you guys do too :) as always, thanks to my beta reading babes!

Din Djarin has been abandoned before. Often on a mission, sometimes on a lone planet with no credits or ways out. He always survives, of course, and vengeance is taken. One thing he absolutely can’t fathom is abandoning someone he loves, or more specifically someone who loves him.

Abandonment isn’t an issue when you’ve never had someone to be attached to. Din spent many many years with absolutely no one. When his parents died, it felt like he was abandoned, sure, but it was clearly not their decision to leave him. When he was taken in by the Mandalorians, they kept him at an arm’s length. He was a foundling; they cared for him well, taught him The Way and The Creed, fed him well. But he was never adopted into a specific clan, rather passed around the covert like the communal task each family had an obligation to fulfill.

Then he became a bounty hunter. The life was solitary and lonely, cold and bleak. It was rare that Din would team up with other bounty hunters, really only when forced to. The Razor Crest became his baby, his only possession and love besides his blasters and beskar. The thing was a piece of bantha shit, but he kept it in good shape.

Then came the kid. Din knew it was wrong. Bounties are to be turned in and paid for, then you forget the job happened. But when that little green thing stared up at Din, the big brown eyes seeming to stare through the dark black of his visor, he knew he couldn’t. This was a child, a baby with no family and no way to protect itself. He certainly couldn’t turn it over to the hands of the ex-Imperials.

Din experienced his first real attachment with the child. He cares for that little thing more than he’s ever cared about anything. He’d cross galaxies, kill and maim and injure for the sake of the little green baby.

Oh Maker, then he met you.

Din had never seen anything like you. You were playing with the kids in the marketplace, laughing as they ran and played around you, before you squealed in delight at the sight of a little green toddler wandering up to you. He’d climbed in your lap, looked up at you with those big eyes, massive ears twitching. You’d stroked his head and cooed to him before you looked up to find his father; subsequently, you felt your heart fall into your stomach at the sight of the Mandalorian man.

“You’re good with kids.”

Well no shit. You nodded. “Yes. I love them. Is this your son?” you ask, looking back down at the three green fingers wrapped around your thumb.

He nods. “He is a foundling under my care.” He watched as the baby grabbed at the golden armband encircling your bicep. You’re absolutely gorgeous. The armband glows against your skin, your beautiful body evident even through the loose and flowing clothing you wear. “Do you take care of these children as a job?”

You shook your head. “No. We don’t have jobs here, necessarily. They just wanted me to play.” You scanned the man, searching for skin. You found none. “Are you green under there too?”

The Mandalorian did not answer. “I’m looking for a caretaker for the child while I hunt bounties. You’d stay in my ship and care for him. I pay well and you’d get to travel the galaxy.”

“You barely know me,” you laughed, removing the little green baby’s fingers from their tight grip on the gold band on your arm.

He gave a half shrug. “He likes you.”

And you’d agreed. And it’s been almost a full cycle now, a cycle of living in the beat-up ship and caring for the little green baby. You’ve seen the most beautiful and the ugliest of planets, experienced extreme heat and extreme cold. You’ve been to beautiful cities, unique jungles and forests and ice planets.

In that time, you got to know the Mandalorian too. It took quite some time to crack his beskar shell. He hardly talked to you in the first month. Then your persistence had loosened him a little, then a little more, then just enough. You know more of him than any other living being does. He’s told you his name: Din Djarin, a name that flows and stops and radiates the power of the bounty hunter. He told you the story of his childhood, of hunts gone wrong and hunts gone right.

You love listening as he tells you and the child the story of the child’s rescue from the ex-Imperials. The baby snuggles against your lap as his father regales the two of you with the epic battles, the fights Din went through for this little child. You both applaud at the end, and put the baby to bed with a kiss between those big brown eyes.

He’s a wonderful man. You’ve formed an easy friendship with him, one that has honestly progressed on your end. At night, you find yourself fantasizing about what he looks like beneath his armor, how the muscles of his broad shoulders move when he climbs the ladder to the cockpit or lifts the child. You like to think he may feel the same for you, but you don’t push it. You don’t want to push him away.

Din has been away for far too long. He always highballs the dates he gives you, saying that an assignment will take three days when he knows it will only take two or a week when it will only be five days. This is a pattern you’ve come to notice; Din is alway back “early”, but now he is late. Really late.

Before he left, Din had opened your bunk compartment, causing you to groan at the light filtering in. You’ve been sleeping since the Crest made a rocky landing on Nevarro a few hours earlier. “Cyare,” he’d murmured, a rare ungloved hand warm on your bare arm, contact broken by your metal armband. You don’t know what the word means. You hope it’s something good.

“What is it?” You groaned, rolling onto your back to look at him. “Leaving?”

He nodded, the silhouette of his helmet-covered head against the soft light of the hull. “Leaving. I’ll be back in four days at the most.”

You offered him a sleepy smile, one that he could see in the warm glow of the lights you’d installed in the ship to navigate easier at night. “Good luck. May the Force be with you,” you teased, making the normally stoic man chuckle a little.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll see you soon.”

You didn’t protest, rolling over and letting the heaviness of sleep drag you back under.

Now, you really wish you’d have talked with him more then. You’re almost certain you’ll never see him again.

You’re not exactly sure what it was in your brain that triggered the thought. Maybe Din just actually took the amount of time he’d said for once, you thought on the fourth day. But now it’s been eight days, double the amount that he’d told you he’d be gone, and you’re stressed.

He always makes good on his word. He should be back by now. He always does. Did he get injured or killed, maybe captured by the bounty he was stalking? You ponder your ideas aloud as you pace back and forth in the hull of the Razor Crest, the little green baby tucked in his soundproof pram to sleep.

There’s likely a rational explanation. You’re sure there is. Maybe the bounty jumped ship, completely threw Din off of his tracks. Maybe the bounty is more clever than anticipated and Din is working extra just to find them. There’s surely a reason, but a little nagging voice in your head says that something is wrong.

In the first few days following Din’s date to return, your primary worry is that he’s hurt or dead somewhere on this barren planet. There are many other bounty hunters here, in this haven for Guild workers. What if one of them discovered Din still has the baby? What if they were coming for you here next?

Maybe you should go look for him. Maybe he’s injured and needs your help. He could be held by another hunter, or by the ex-Imperials- you can’t even bear to think of them harming Din for taking their precious cargo back. The thought makes you squeeze the little green baby tighter to your chest, even after he gives a whine of annoyance at the pressure.

But Din would never forgive you if you put yourself in harm’s way for him. This planet is dangerous, full of bad people who will do what it takes to get their credits. Most importantly, you can’t leave this ship with the kid. Certainly people here are looking for him. Someone would spot him and you’d be in for disaster. The anxiety fills your days and even seeps into your dreams, making you sleep less and more fitfully. On the eighth day, perhaps the most terrifying idea strikes you: what if Din just... left you?

Of course, there are plenty of signs why he hasn’t. The ship is one of his rare material possessions. He’d never give up the machine that’s been a home to him for the last however many years. Weapons are part of his religion, and he only took a sparse amount with him for this hunt. His prized pulse rifle still hangs in his armory, with an abundance of whistling birds he didn’t take either.

Most importantly, you’re still here with the kid. The baby is practically Din’s son. He adores him… but what if it’s all too much? You’ve become like a little family. That may be too domestic for him. Maybe he’s sick of the responsibility, of caring for two beings when so much of his life has been solitary. Even worse, maybe he’s just sick of you.

There are plenty of rational explanations. You know it. The baby can sense your anxiety, can feel the tension running through the air surrounding you, and he feels it too. He’s fussy, requiring more snacks and more attention. He tugs far too much on your armband and it pinches now, his little claws getting too long. You don’t mind- it’s a distraction, really- but your mind is never fully on feeding the baby, rather hyper analyzing Din’s mind as you know it and hoping he’ll return.

The hours pass. Din doesn’t return. You become more and more certain that he’s abandoned you for good. He isn’t coming back, ever, because he hates you. He was nice to you as a courtesy, nothing more, only as a protector of his child. This type of family is too much for the lone-wolf style man. He can’t do it anymore. You’re on your own.

In your head, the thought of him abandoning you is too much. It weighs heavily on your self-esteem, convincing you that this is all your fault and you’ve done too much, or not enough, or something wrong in general that sent Din packing and gone. He did it because you’re annoying, because he’s sick of you.

Rational thoughts are pushed to the furthest corner of your mind. Your brain is occupied by self hatred, by terror, by a sickening buzzing feeling in your head and chest that feels like a parasite eating you from the inside out.

It’s too much. You fall to the floor, sliding your back down the metal wall. Your rear contacts the floor as the tears fall from your face, your emotions drowning out your senses. You can’t use any of your senses, just think and process the agony your brain is putting you through.

Burying your face in your hands, you finally allow the tears you’ve been holding in all week to flow. It’s a relief, the hot tears streaming down your equally hot face, blood rushing to the surface. The anxiety buzzing in your head has reached a breaking point; you’re sure the tension is boiling your brains, making it bubble and roil as the thoughts pull you down and down so far you feel you’ve fallen through the floor of the Crest and into the dry Nevarro dirt.

You nearly wail, wheezing in air only to expel it in harsh sobs as the fear wraps your body and constricts it. You’re enveloped by it, trapped in a coffin mixed with a tornado mixed with a firestorm and a hurricane.

Then it all stops. The heat is broken by something cold- beskar. You force your eyes to see and they finally perceive that Din is in front of you. Then you feel again, feel the chilled metal all over your skin as he wraps his arms around you. You smell him, his faded soap from whenever he bathed last, his sweat and the smell of the Nevarro dust. You can taste your salty tears. The last sense to come back puts you most at ease: his voice. “Talk to me, please,” Din asks of you.

You nod and try to speak, but you’re still gasping for air, your lungs unable to fill. When you slow down and make yourself breathe, you’re finally able to manage words. “Thought you were gone forever. Thought you left because of me.”

The beskar helmet tilts to the side, taking you in. You’re sure you’re a mess; eyes bloodshot, face tearstained, snot probably all over you as well. Din’s quiet for a moment. “Why would you think that?”

“You said four days. You always come back early, but you were gone for eight days.”

His chest rises and falls slowly beneath the beskar plate. “I know. I’m sorry. But why would you think I’d leave you?”

The tears return. “I don’t know, Din, I-”

“No, shh,” Din murmurs and wipes your face. “No more tears. I’m here.”

Din stands and takes you with him, his arms wrapped tight around your body to bring you to your feet. He walks you to the edge of the bunk and hands you a canteen of water to drink. You look at him and he looks back. There’s a silence and an unspoken battle between the two of you over who will break it.

Din breaks first. “I got the bounty easily. I was late because of… something else.”

Your face falls into a frown. “You took double the amount of time and didn’t tell me? Whatever this ‘something else’ is, it better be worth it.”

Din breathes in and out deeply before producing a soft fabric bag. “I didn’t leave you. I’m back. And… I got you something to show that I’ll never leave you.”

From the bag, his leather-covered hand produces something silver. Your eyes, blurry with tears, take a moment to perceive it: an armband of some silver material- oh, it’s beskar. It’s cold to the touch but you take it from him to admire it and find it is emblazoned with an insignia: a mudhorn. “The symbol of Clan Djarin,” he says gently, though he’s sure you know. It’s on his pauldron. It’s on the baby’s necklace. “We… are a family, aren’t we?”

You don’t respond; rather, you throw your arms around his neck and the tears return, but happily. “We are,” you whimper, your throat constricted by a sob. You cry into his neck, staining the fabric of his cowl and cape with your tears.

He understands they’re good tears, and so he lets them flow. His arms wrap around you and rest on your back, gently rubbing it as you cry into him. As the sobs calm, the tears end, you remain in his arms. Din holds you tight against his chest. “I’ve never made a better decision than hiring you. It was supposed to just be a babysitting job, but… I fell in love.”

Your heart stops and you pull back. “You’re in love? With me?”

Din nods. “I… yes. I am.”

A smile crosses your face, the joy emphasized by how wide your smile is in the presence of your tears. “I love you too,” you manage before your throat squeezes off your words, making you cry happily and hug him yet again.

With your face buried in his neck, you nuzzle your face in and are rewarded with a soft patch of stubbled skin beneath the tip of your nose. You can feel his throat vibrate when he speaks again. “We are a clan of three now. I promise you, I will never leave you. Don’t even entertain the thought again. Understand?”

You nod, not wanting to move your face and lose contact with this intimate spot of him, the first humanness you’ve been able to get beneath the beskar. You kiss the skin there softly. Din knows it’s your answer: understood. I love you.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin headcanons #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian headcanons #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #mando #mando x reader #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal x reader #tw anxiety #tw anxiety attack #tw panic attack

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Note

Omg I'm SO sorry!!! I'm the soulmates pain AU anon, I was completely aware you were the one with the milestone!! I saw the post through Molly's rb and I was almost completely sure I had opened your blog to send you the ask but alas, the Tumblr app can never give you any certainties. That long-ass message was completely dedicated to you, I still can't quite grasp how I managed to send it to scribbledghost 🙄🙄🙄 Sorry!!! Congrats again, I love you!!!!

for reference a Din Djarin x reader soulmate request where your soulmate feels your injuries and pain

hello, dear heart!

I wanted to say, before anything else, thank you. I've reread your words multiple times since you sent this, confirming they were to me, and they really mean the world to me. thank you so, so much! anyway, your idea is fantastic, I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope you like seeing what I did with your already wonderful thoughts 💕

ps it's well documented that I'm a big fan of sprawling thoughts, so please never apologize for sharing them!

warnings: mentions canon-typical injuries, a bunch of fluff. at least enough for a couple of throw pillows

soulmate requests / follower celebration

There's a short burn on his forearm when he wakes.

Din stares at it, wondering at the dull ache, trying to place the injury from yesterday's adventure when it hits him. Hot and golden warmth, flooding through his chest, thawing his flesh against the cold filtered air.

It's one of yours.

A burn, on his forearm.

And selfishly, indulgently, he pauses for a moment, mind slipping away from duty and expectations to dwell in the daydream of his soulmate.

First, his mind creates an image of a blurry mandalorian caretaker, gently moving around a kitchen in the covert. You stir a pot, tapping the spoon on the side before setting it down. Hearing distant calls, you turn too quickly and oh - a sliver of burn along your arm.

Din wants to help, wants to pull you away from the domestic .... danger, and he rushes forward. Your helmet turns to him and he almost sees it - before his mind can no longer produce the answers he aches for late at night.

The second image is of you, in armor as gleaming as his own, in a thick, unrecognizable forest. The hairs on his neck are at full attention, already subconsciously wanting to shout - but you don't need his help. You're breathtaking in all versions of his daydream - but watching you fight with practiced ease punches the air from his lungs. For a moment he feels self-conscious of his awkward maneuvers and slapdash fighting but then his mind pulls him back. You're protecting someone, or else you wouldn't have messed up - you never do, injuries from you are too rare - but you shove them behind you, shooting an enemy over your shoulder before your helmet snaps back. There are so many - you're surrounded - and a hot, sharp blaster bolt grazes your forearm before your fury is truly unleashed.

He runs his fingers over the burn, almost giddy at the possibilities.

Mandalorians are few and far between, but he's grateful he has a soulmate, and even more thankful you've kept yourself out of harm's way almost entirely, since you'd been connected.

As he dons his layers, the shine of his armor reflects bruises and scrapes littered across the expanse of his skin. His own, from his journey, and one beautiful little burn from his soulmate.

And then they're covered, and the armor is tied securely in place, and he leaves his daydreams in the room as the ship door slides unceremoniously shut.

You hiss at the burn, clutching your arm.

Great. Just what you needed - another injury to add to your impressive collection.

At least my soulmate gets a gift from me this time. You roll your eyes.

The vendor next to your stall is a sweet lady, already apologizing for her steaming pots and pans and offering you compensation.

The credits would be nice, but you could hardly justify taking anything, especially since it was your soulmate's fault your body was riddled with aches and pains in the first place.

Waving your hand, you accept her counter offer - a bowl of her perfect broth and noodles - before retreating. You sell cloth, from beautiful dyed lengths tucked away to sturdy, unstainable blacks, and it was days like today that you thanked your stars for that choice.

There's a thick pile in the middle that you perch on, sinking into the folds as your body cries at you, and you sigh over your soup in relief. The burden of waking to webbing bruises and sprawling scrapes and the more-than-occasional broken bone is eased by your stall - sitting and haggling until the sun goes down. That is, unless there's drama in the market, as it seems there is today.

In the distance you hear shouts, more than those of vendors selling meat on sticks to passing warriors and merchants - the taunts of drunkards.

Someone is coming, and you almost laugh when you see his form in the distance, because he's trying and failing to be inconspicuous. It's impossible, with his gleaming armor, but still he ducks into shadowy spots, forgetting - or maybe ignoring - their inhabitants.

"A Mandalorian has graced our market," your neighbor remarks dryly. They were respected, but it was well known that chaos followed them. You share a look, both wishing you were wealthy enough to conpletely pack up shop. If anything, a logical person would put away most of the stock and hunker down for a few hours. Weighing the odds was difficult: if you were lucky, the chaos wouldn't bother your business, and shoppers might be drawn out, hoping for entertainment and spending as they waited. If you weren't, a wayward burst of plasma or blaster fire would destroy your whole month's stock.

You looked at him again, the Mandalorian kneeling down the street. His form was... almost handsome, formidable but careful. He was light on his feet, seemingly with gentleness on his mind, and it drew you in like a moth to flame. You decided to stay, and hope for the best, your curiosity pulsing like your bruises.

And you were lucky, that day, because he ducked away not a moment later, taking the exciment with him.

Until, he came back the next day, this time on the prowl, stalking up and down the edge of Dicer's Row, one hand on his blaster and the other atop a bulky, wriggling bag. This time, you ventured to stand, folding and refolding your displays as you watched him through your lashes.

And then he made his move, and you sighed, feigning a yawn to cover your disappointment from your neighbor's knowing smile. She shouldn't be wiggling her eyebrows over the box wall between you - honestly his type were more annoying than anything. A crash from the alley confirmed it: there was no way a guy like that cared about his soulmate. The gentleness from before was surely a trick of the light.

Your whole side lit up with pain, the impact of something hard against your whole side and you groaned, settling into your mound again. Any curiosity or attraction was snuffed under your annoyance and pain, and your mood soured like fruit left unpicked on the tree.

Selfish, you thought, glaring as a chicken ran squawking from the commotion. What a jerk.

The next day, you tried to maintain the sentiment, huffing as he wandered the stalls.

Why does he keep coming back?

You'd have thought his time here was over when he'd dragged that lowlife out of town yesterday. But here he was, buying a crock of soup at the stall next to you, and ignoring her comments about how he couldn't eat it with his helmet on.

She had warmed to him, since he'd put money in her pocket, chattering in a way that kept him stuck for long moments.

It struck you as strange - he almost seemed too awkward to leave, like her returned generosity actually meant something to him. A man like him... surely could've just walked away.

But he stayed for awhile, nodding and looking at the spoons she carved in her free time, and you almost thought he was looking at you, too. Then he ducked his head and planted himself in front of you, and certainly he was.

For all the years you'd spent weaving words to sell your fabrics and goods, you'd never been so speechless. The Mandalorian was large, sharp, shining edges and bulky canvas packs tied to his shoulders - he seemed out of place, filling your whole stall, shuffling as he loomed over you.

He asked for soft brown things - children's clothes.

"Of course, I - I mean, yes, just over here -" you tripped over your words, caught completely off guard by the shape of him, the feel of him just an arms width away, and his request. You stumbled from your seat, nearly toppling in your hurry and his gloved hand wrapped around your arm, catching you.

"You're injured," he stated not really asking. It was... overwhelmingly intimate, him knowing, and acknowledging it, like he cared.

"Yeah, my..." you swallowed, trying not to get lost in the dark glass inches from your face. "My self-centered soulmate keeps getting himself nearly killed."

Even with your heart thumping in your chest, you couldn't keep the bite from your words, bitterness having collected over years of nursing injuries that were consequences of someone else's actions. He didn't let go of you for a moment, his helmet pulling back and tilting, like he was startled.

Then he was cautious, unbearably so, releasing his grip like a child freeing a captured creature when it was time. The topic was dropped, and he made his purchase quickly, but before he left, he paused. The Mandalorian's gloved hand ghosted over your cheek, slowly moving a hair back into it's place, and if you hadn't known better, it was almost an apology.

And then, thick cape swirling in the dust, tiny clothes in tow, he swept away, leaving you along with your whole body alight with a foreign longing.

Din felt as though he'd been stabbed.

Hot, hot feelings poured through his chest, spreading fast as fire as he desperately tried to sort through them.

You - you were incredible, fragile and bruised, with the most stunning, determined eyes he had ever seen. Not a Mandalorian, and you had a ... a soulmate, a fucker who left your skin littered with marks, burdening you with ...

He felt panicked, shocked, and guilty, just as he had when you'd told him. It had never occred to him that his soulmate might be there... out there, constantly burdened by his recklessness. His body screamed for attention, something he so often ignored, but this time, he was almost deafened by it.

His feet, legs, arms, chest, heart - all of them wanted him to return to you, in your little fabric stall. To... what? Truly, he hadn't the slightest idea, so his mind won out, shaking a little to try to reign in the muscles that he'd taught to obey him.

He couldn't go to you.

But, he couldn't stay away.

He was back in the market, and this time, he wasn't being subtle about staring at you.

Tall and ... slow, he waded through the crowds, making his was towards you like he was following a careful path.

"Can I help you?" You stood, moving almost involuntarily towards him. "Was there something wrong with my -" he was already shaking his head, hands reaching to make you shush.

Waiting, an irrational part of your mind wished he would touch you again, would place his big hands on your skin and sooth the aches that haunted your life. It was unfair, but you didn't stop it, couldn't if you tried.

Carefully, he slid a single finger to your arm, pushing up your sleeve to reveal the little burn you'd gotten.

He was being gentle. It made you want to stomp your feet, jealously welling up in your heart like bile, bitter and hot. How could it be, that someone so powerful had learned so quickly, wanted to, and he wasn't - he wasn't even your -

Then he moved again, pushing up his own sleeve and your thoughts tumbled over each other. It was intimate, even more than before, desperately trusting, as his skin near glowed in the morning light. And there was a burn on his skin, hairs singled like they'd met the edge of a pot of boiling broth.

You wanted to punch him. This man has spent years tossing his body around like he had one one spare, making your own as brittle as bread crust and - you wanted to kiss him. This man had learned after a single day, the impact of his actions, and had been nothing but kind.

The forehead of his helmet pressed into yours, and the two sides of your mind compromised.

Later, words would come - they had to.

But now, your eyes closed, and you sighed. He had the rest of your life to make it up to you - and he would, you were sure.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk @saradika @zinzinina

#din djarin x reader #soulmate requests #anonymous and elle #elle only posts soulmate rqs at weird hours thats the rule

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aravas-writing · 3 years

Note

(Secret Star AU)

Title: "Ravenous Rave Romp!"

Cinder had been desperate for money, her normal "allowance" delayed for some reason (Watts!) Which means she needed a job. Emerald, who she had just recruited, said this place would be perfect, but Cinder had second thoughts the minute she walked into the porn studio. But before she could protest, Emerald had already signed her up for a Rave scene, wearing a multi coloured wig, hiding her identity. Cinder reluctantly went along with it, it wasn't like this smiling blonde could be rough with her, which she would have known, had she read the script...

She hated this whole situation with all of her heart. Cinder Fall was not a prostitute! She dangled the dream of sex with her in front of others to do her bidding, not give away her body!

She was done with that ever since she left the Silver Unicorn...once had been well enough.

Alas, that brazen arrogant fool Watts told her that there was some form of difficulty to move her required funds, so she would have to get a job.

Who the hell did he think she was?!

Calm...Calm...deep breaths... Emerald tried her best to get something that would get money easy while being somewhat dignified and matching Cinder's CV.

Somehow, her help had come up with an adult film company looking for new talent. Cinder had almost fried the chocolate-skinned street rat for it, but she had to concede that the terms of the contract she brought back were acceptable. It was a small consolation, alongside Emerald also being given a form.

Of course the greenette would have to fill her copy out as well.

The script was easy enough. Dance in a rave party alongside carefully chosen actors, all of whom actually seemed to relish being able to party on company clock. Then she was to carefully seduce her co-star into dancing with her, before getting dirty right on the dance floor.

Cinder had to admit, public sex had a thrill to it, which was possibly why she accepted these tacky-looking extensions in her hair. Sure, no one outside could tell that those weren't actually part of her hair, but still! Green and blue?!

Right, she was supposed to be a raver...

Miniskirt ready for easy access, skimpy top, makeup done and she was ready to rock the world of whatever guy was going to be sent her way.

...wait, how would one dance rave?

Too late, the crowd was ready and music was getting blasted through the speakers. It was a rather unsophisticated tune, but it certainly was easy enough to dance to. All one had to do was follow the beat.

Easy enough. The bodies around her were dancing fairly close to her, but not close enough to disrupt either Cinder or the cameras. The ravenette put on a bit of a show for them. A shimmy turned into a luscious roll of her hips, before excitedly jump around and letting her ass jiggle beneath her skirt.

And, of course, she only wore a thin thong.

As she danced, she noticed a figure approaching her spot on the dance floor. Judging him to be her co-star, Cinder threw a sneaky glance his way. Blonde hair adorned a head sitting on a tall body as blue eyes sparkled with mischief and adoration in equal parts.

'Oh no, he's hot.' That was most definitely not Cinder Fall's immediate thought upon seeing the guy, who himself was dressed in a shirt and shorts which both featured splatters of neon paint.

She used all her skill as a receiver to pretend to notice him just as he started appearing close to her own space on the dance floor. A howl of excitement ran through the crowd as the song changed. Fittingly enough, it was called "Satisfaction".

A coy smile his way and an extended hand, this silly boy took one huge step towards the Fall Maiden turned raver and danced to the beat. His hands met her hips immediately as he got close, a smile on his own lips as the two actually had fun.

Cinder could scarcely believe it herself. She was having fun to gaudy music and dancing with this ridiculously handsome- this adequately attractive stranger. Her smile became a little more genuine, certainly more so since she became what she was today.

But alas, this lighthearted atmosphere had to be shattered and replaced with a more sexual one. Taking his arm and lifting it slightly, the seductress used the opening to dance right into his arms, rubbing her shapely ass against his crotch. To finish this, she lifted her head to smile at the blonde boy.

He looked surprised at her forwardness, but soon relented and let his hands roam her perfect body. One caressed her thigh, inching close to her crotch while lifting her skirt as another roamed her flat stomach while searching a way towards her boobs.

Another jiggle of her ass, some pressing of her hips against his, and Cinder knew that her co-star was packing. Certainly something to look forward to as one of his hands finally made it up to her clothed boob to cup it gently. His thumb started to circle her nipple through the fabric, making Cinder bite her lip and shimmy around in his arms some more. Her flat stomach undulating was perfectly caught on camera.

Through the droning beat, Cinder wished he could hear her breathing heavily under his touch as he whispered all the dirty things he would do to her in her ear. Alas, there was no sound beyond the music.

Not that words were really necessary. The blonde's hand finally crept beneath her skirt, teasing and caressing her clad mound. She moaned, not that anyone could hear, as she realized that she had gotten wet under him. As his hand kept caressing her, she looked back up to him, craning her neck as she did, and smiled at him using her best fuck-me eyes.

He would have to oblige her, since they still starred in a porn video. He needed to fuck her, he just had to! Oum knows she wanted it.

Nice, well-shaped fingers pulled her thong away, baring what little it concealed to a curious camera lens as the music changed again to a different sound, this one like something was approaching. Cinder smiled at the timing of it as her handsome co-star probed her pussy, exploring it carefully instead of jamming it in like a possessive brute.

So many steps up from what she had to endure...He was focused on her pleasure, his finger scraping against her in the nicest way, pistoning in and out of her tight and ready pussy.

Cinder patience left as her libido rose, and she had to pull his wrist away from her pussy and towards her ass as she turned around, facing him now.

A female voice could be heard in this track, seemingly addressing the listener with an endearing and horny "Hey Baby", asking them increasingly lustful questions. Cinder herself fumbled at her blonde stud's- her friendly blonde's pants to fish out his painfully hard cock. Amber eyes not leaving blue, nimble hands wandered all over his length as her smile grew. Finally, she pulled close, slinging a leg around his hip and directing his cock close to her waiting muff. She could feel his tip close to her lips, so close that her hips moved against it in her own.

Finally, her blonde grabbed the ravenette by the hips and the leg slung around him, balancing her, and guided himself inside her. He didn't even use his hands, making her eyes widen as he entered her just like that.

To anyone looking on, the two were dancing very provocatively. To Cinder Fall, this was an experience unlike any other. He fit her excellently, dare she say perfectly; his cock filled her pussy completely! All the sexy minx wanted was for him to move immediately, perhaps giving her her first orgasm!

Dammit, she was so turned on!

His one hand cupping her ass cheek, he pressed deep and rhythmically inside her, then pulling out, then repeat three times before he followed with several shallow thrusts.

Cinder was certain that her juices were glistening in the lights as the speaking part of the song turned overtly sexual and her man fucked her good. Waves of pleasure ran through her, coursing through her veins as he held her close, amber eyes gazing at him with something so close to adoration that she herself wondered...

"Oh my God!" The girl in the song moaned in pretend lust as Cinder gasped it in actual lust as he simply picked her up, arms beneath her kneepits, and fucked her hard and good while standing.

She was getting close as he made his lust for her relentlessly known. Blue eyes and a mouth slightly opened to moan softly mirrored her own expression as she approached her own high; the very first anyone ever gave her!

A head snapped forward in the decisive moment and hungry lips met, tongues battling against one another as their climax rocked their bodies, a deluge if fun filling Cinder as her partner shivered, moaning into her mouth as her own sounds vibrated, letting them both feel it.

Finally, they separated, and Cinder was gently set down on wobbly legs. Not wasting a second, right after his still-hard dick was back in his pants, she pointed off the dance floor, in the vague direction of "private", and took his hand to lead him away...

"Cut!" The director yelled through the sound. "Excellent shoot, you two! Magnificent performance! You led her well, Jamie!"

As the ravenette blinked owlishly, torn out of her horny mode, her partner basically scratched the back of his head. "Thank you, but I'm pretty sure my partner here is the real star," he screamed back over the din of the ongoing party and pointing to the ravenette.

"Ah, certainly!" The director nodded to her. "We'll wire you your payment for this gig ASAP! You can go to the showers now; just-"

As soon as Cinder heard the word "showers" and saw the hand pointing in the direction, her trek continued, pulling this "Jamie" along undeterredly.

As soon as they arrived, her clothes practically flew off of her while she hungrily glared at the blonde. "I want a second round, Jamie," she clarified.

"Jaune, actually; Jamie is my stage-"

"Jaune, then." He was almost adorably nervous. "Get those extensions out if my hair and I'll make it worth it," Cinder commanded in her best seductress voice, beckoning him to follow as she headed to the shower.

She would definitely sign up to exclusively work with him...

#rwby #secret star au #cinder fall #jaune arc #rwby smut #rwby knightfall

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bigboomboi · 3 years

Text

Kindered Sparks

This is my entry for @gg9183’s soulmate collab - Oof, I was almost late for your birthday ( I know that I'm technically no where near late, but I put this out so much later than I would've rathered. Sorry, I'm a Virgo, mate.) Anyhoo! Happy Birthday! And congratulations on your amazing Milestone! Thank you for organizing this collab too and allowing me to be apart of it! Honestly, I love soulmate pieces so much, so I was so excited seeing this prompt (I'm excited to read the others as well!) My friend helped me put together an idea for a SM connection and I really enjoyed writing it, hope you do as well :) Happy reading!

Fem!reader x Denki Kaminari

Soulmates au; People are born with a dream realm connecting them to their Soulmate. Warning; harsh language, Hurt/comfort, pretty fluffy, cursing. Implied readerxfemale relationship. BakuKiri relationship (I got bullied last time I didn't say that was a pairing, so, just being safe)

Word count; 4.6K

“Another lonely night in this stupid world.” Y/N grumbled staring up at her dreamy night sky.

A sky she was supposed to share with someone else.

In this wonderful, bittersweet world, you were tied to another person. Destiny decided from day one of your birth who you’d be with for the rest of your life and then set you in a special plane of existence only accessible when you fell asleep, once you turned the ripe age of fifteen. The kindred-plane.

A place specially made for you and your soulmate to meet each night when you fall asleep. It was a place to get to know each other without the prying eyes of all those around. A shared dream land you could even decorate and make your own. It was your partner’s and your safe space.

It was a place you guys could explore together, where your imaginations combined like an amazing world of minecraft. Some people made completely different lives in their heads at night. Others used it to see their long distance lovers. Hell, there was a blog story sharing what sounded like a whole scripted tv show where a woman’s soulmate had set off to save her from an uncompromising kingdom.

Sadly though, your shared safe space could be destroyed in a matter of moments. It wasn’t unheard of for your soulmate to reject destiny’s plan and divide your dreams. You could absolutely reject your soulmate and quite literally lock them out of your dreams. All presence of them would disappear from your dreams within a few nights, sometimes even faster, and you’d be left alone with only your creations.

Of course, being divided from your soulmate hurt. But something hurt much worse.

Your soulmate being unintentionally stolen from you. A divide where you lose your soulmate despite neither saying they’d like to divide. A situation where your soulmate dies.

Y/N sighed at the reminiscent of her once was soulmate. So sweet and kind, someone Y/N fully imagined meeting one day in the daylight. Yet, now at the sad age of seventeen, Y/N had no dreams of ever seeing her soulmate ever again.

She only had the one year of memories they made…

“Class, This Y/N. She will be joining our class for her final year of hero training, treat her well.” Aizawa introduced her to the class of 3-A.

“Thank you, Sensei” Y/N bowed slightly. “Nice to meet you all.”

Not even a moment of silence was granted before the class erupted in questions. Half about her quirk, the other half about where she was from. A few off hand questions about why she transferred. All a mess.

“Enough!” Aizawa shouted, hushing the entire class. “You all can get to know her later, on your own terms. For now, Y/N please take your seat.”

Y/N nodded and scurried back to the only free seat in the back. Between a pretty pinkette and sweet looking round faced brunette. Before she was even seated, Aizawa began his lesson.

Y/N quietly sat through the classes of her day, ignoring the judging looks aimed her way, as the new girl. She could hear the quiet whispers going around, speculating what type of person she was and tried to ignore those as well. She was well aware of the fact that she appeared very off-standish.

Dark eye bags, complete resting bitch face that quite literally screamed ‘I will stab you with a pencil if you speak to me’, earbuds tucked into each ear and a hunched over form that could rival Quasimodo. Thankfully, the aura she set into place actually warded off her new classmates for several days.

Up until a week later in the common room where her bubble was invaded.

She didn’t look up at the person sitting next to her and subtly tried to turn up her music. She felt the presence of several others join her and they all stared at her silently until finally, the pinkette she sat next to on her first day, plucked her book from her hands. Y/N slowly looked up at her dully and raised an eyebrow.

She reached out for her book, but the girl pulled it back out of her reach. She tried again, reaching forwards further, but the book was yoinked by a strip of tape, pulling it across the coffee table. Gritting her teeth slightly, Y/N stood up to reach across the table and the music in her ears paused.

The girl had unplugged her headphones.

“You just have no regard for personal belongings of others, hm?” Y/N sighed, sitting down.

“We just want to get to know our new classmate!” The pink girl grinned. “I’m Mina!”

“Hi, Mina. Now give me back my shit.” Y/N tried to grab her phone, only for someone behind her to tug her ear buds away. “Seriously?”

“We’ll give you back your things if you let us get to know you.” Mina smiled.

“Or, you could just give it back.” Y/N tried to grab her earbuds from the bright blonde behind her.

“Nope.’ He said, a grin on his face as well. “I’m Kaminari Denki, nice to meet ya, beautiful.”

Y/N sighed and rolled her eyes. “Or, I could just take my stuff back.”

“You could but there’s five of us and one of you, good luck.” A bitch faced blonde mumbled, flipping through her book.

“Fine. Here’s one thing about me.” Suddenly she appeared behind the bitch blonde and snatched her book. Another one of her appeared behind the one who taped her book away and grabbed her book mark. Two other Y/N’s came into existence on opposite sides of her seating couch to grab her phone and ear buds. All while the original Y/N sat in her place. “Don’t touch my things.”

“Woah, you can make multiple you’s!” The redhead gasped excitedly. “That’s so manly!”

“That’s so cool! They feel so real!” Kaminari said, poking the side of the one near him. It yelped and swatted his hand.

“They are real! Don’t poke me, I’m ticklish!” Y/N snapped, rubbing her side.

“Woah, can you feel this?’ The tape one reached out to pinch the clone’s arm.

Y/N’s other clone smacked him with her book. “Yes, I can feel that! Ow!”

“So your quirk is duplicating yourself? Boring…” Bitch face rolled his eyes, another Y/N appeared behind him and swatted the back of his head.

“My quirk is omni-replication. I can create continuous versions of myself and others. But they can act on their own.” Y/N sighed, bringing herself her book.

“Woah, make another me!” Kaminari grabbed her arm.

“G-Get off of me!” Y/N shoved him away, ignoring the literal spark between them. “I can’t make one of you now!”

“But you just said-.” Mina tried.

“I have to know your ins and outs. Otherwise I’d just make a weird melty blob of you.” Y/N sighed. “I need to know more about you guys before I can make you. I need to know you, how you fight, how your quirk works, I need to know how to play the game before I can participate.”

“So, what I’m hearing is…” Mina smirked. “You need to get to know us to succeed.”

“Oh god…” Y/N groaned. “I have no choice in this do I?”

“We have a specialty of making friends with people that don’t want to be friends.” The red head threw his arm over bitch face’s shoulder.

And thus a new friendship was born.

“Bakugo, why do you keep moving my pillow in our dreams, it’s so not manly.” Kirishima whined.

“Neither is the massive rock sitting in the middle of nowhere, dude.” Bakugo argued.

“It’s not just a rock.” Kirishima mock sniffled. “It’s a boulder.”

Y/N snickered at the reference that earned the kind redhead a smack to the back of his head. “Are you delivering pizza on it?”

“Yes!” Kiri grinned.

“No! Don’t encourage him!” Bakugo shouted.

“Aye, don’t shout at me. Your boyfriend is a literal rock, he’s encouraging himself.” Y/N laughed, throwing a fry at him.

“Oh yeah, what trash has your soulmate cluttered in your dream world?” Bakugo argued back.

Y/N’s laughter silenced and immediately her lips curled into a scowl. A light switched on and they remembered the one rule they had set in place. No one talks about Y/N’s soulmate. Or lack thereof.

“Bakugo!” Mina snapped.

“Shit, I didn’t-.” Y/N didn’t give him the time to apologize and stood up from the lunch table.

“Wait, no, Y/N! He didn’t mean to!” Kaminari grabbed her arm.

She flicked him in the forehead and pulled away. “No, it’s fine. You guys talk about your soulmate shit, I’m going to the training field.”

“Wait, Y/N, really!” Mina tried. “It’s just, we’re so used to casually talking about it!”

“I don’t care if you guys talk about yours, but you know I don’t have one, so we don’t bring up mine!” She huffed, before taking a breath. “You know what? Never mind.”

Y/N ignored her friend’s protest and stomped out of the dinning hall. She rushed to the training area, stopping by the locker room to change and grab gear, briefly.

Activating her quirk she began fist fighting her clone, taking her anger out on herself. Very early on into her friendship with the group she told them she didn’t want to talk about the soulmate shit. At least not her own. She told them she didn’t have one, leaving them to believe she never did.

They were incredibly understanding after they found that it upset her. So much, to the point that she copied Kirishima to punch himself when he kept asking. After that ordeal and several days of being ignored, they respected her wishes of not bringing it up.

She knocked herself down and punched herself in the face. She turned off the connection to the clone so she wouldn’t feel the pain herself. Disconnected clones only had a few minutes to live really and faded away with enough damage. Once that one faded, she created another in its space and continued pounding away.

“Stupid soulmate bullshit.” She huffed each word with a punch. “Stupid divide rule.” Another clone. “Stupid. Fucking. Erg- Everything!”

Y/N beat her final clone to death and didn’t bring a new one out. She sniffled, the tears she’d been holding back for years now finally breaking her dam. She hated the horrible lonely feeling she had been surrounded by for so long. She missed out on so much sleep, just to avoid going to her dream world. She set alarms to wake her up every hour or so to stay away from it and at this point, she was losing her mind.

She cried more thinking back to the last time she had been in her kindred-plane. She’d avoided it for a few days before exhaustion actually hit her like a bus and made her sleep. This time her plain little dream seemed to have adopted new items in her absence.

A bundle of comic books, a guitar, even a really, really big pikachu plushie.

Not that they were placed anywhere in particular. The guitar was outside of the little home she had reimagined, laying haphazardly on the ground. The pikachu was placed in front of a tree, facing it and the books were strewn across her loveseat couch. It was like her dream realm had become a lost and found for thrown away items from other planes. Which, honestly, Y/N could believe, as she didn’t use it so much.

She wished she could just give away her realm and dream of nothingness.

“Y/N?” She jumped, hearing her name and quickly wiped away her tears, ignoring the way they stung her open knuckles.

“Kaminari, I’m not really in the mood to talk.” Y/N muttered.

“Okay, that’s fine. We both know I talk enough for the both of us.” He joked, coming to sit in front of her.

Y/N turned to look away from his seating and ignored him, but he set off into a spiel about a new game he got. He did what he did best when one of his friends were upset, he talked. And normally that worked, but minutes into his yabbering, she started crying again.

“Hey, no! No crying! Crying is sad!” Kaminari tried.

“I am sad Kami!” She snapped. “I am really fucking sad! Everyone gets to have stupid fucking soulmate but me! And all because mine fucking died!”

Kaminari immediately paused his frantic attempts to calm her. “Huh, I thought you said you didn’t have one?”

“I don’t because she died! My god damn soulmate died literally months after meeting each other damn it!” Y/N yelled, sinking her fingers into her hair. “And now my kindred-plane is empty and lonely and shit keeps getting piled into it like a fucking trash can!”

Kaminari was silent for a moment while she cried. He slowly crawled over, closer to her and pulled her into a hug. This wasn’t a moment for talking randomly and he knew that. So they sat for the rest of the lunch period in silence, save for her soft hiccups.

After that, somehow, Y/N started talking to her friends the next day. She rationalized that it wasn’t their fault she was sensitive about the subject, they didn’t deserve the aggression. So with a tense apology, she was back to sitting with them at lunch and hanging out.

Y/N was determined to not let her disrupted dreamland destroy her outside reality.

“Okay, really?” Y/N blinked at the ugly rug that appeared draped over her bookshelf. “How the hell did you even get there?”

She tugged it down and stared at it in disgusted contemplation. “Guess you get to go in front of the fireplace…”

Y/N walked towards the warmth and paused, noting that it felt like it took a few more steps than usual. She looked around and found that the picture she carefully centered on the wall was no longer centered. Was her house getting bigger? More and more shit was popping up out of nowhere and her place felt spaceyer…

“What the actual fuck universe?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and laid down the new rug.

An odd whooshing noise sounded behind her and she turned around to see a lamp fizzled into existence, a hand accompanying it this time. Y/N fumbled over own feet trying to hurry and grab it. Someone was putting shit in her realm and she was about to find out who.

Actually she wasn’t.

The moment she grabbed the hovering wrist, it was like she had rubbed her socks across her new rug a million times and then touched an outlet. The hand shocked her, hard. She yelped and fell backwards on her butt, accidently taking the lamp down too, except when it fell apart it fell backwards toward the floating hand and disappeared from her plane.

Y/N gasped sitting up out of her bed, the shock kicking her out of her own dream. “Ow, what the hell?”

Y/N looked over at her clock, finding that it was five in the morning. She sighed and climbed out of her bed, grabbing her ear buds and phone. There was no school the next day, it was Saturday so she aimed to sneak down to the common room and spend her day dead on the couch, fighting off sleep again.

Not ten minutes after snuggling into a comfy spot on the couch, it dipped slowly as someone sat on the other end of it. She looked up from her book, to find Kaminari on the other end. He held up a bag of doritos in exchange for her company.

“What are you doing up?” She asked, pulling out her ear buds.

“Got startled awake by something in my dream world.” He answered, holding the bag out to her.

“Ah, that sucks.” She hummed apologetically.

“What about you?” He asked carefully.

Y/N snorted. “Kami, you know I don’t sleep.”

“Yeah, I know, but you’ve been up for the past few days.” He sighed, remembering seeing her in the kitchen at three am. “You’re going to trash your health if you don’t sleep.”

“Eh, it’s alright.” She crunched on a chip, before yawning. “Plus, you stay up every night gaming, bite me.”

“Gladly.” He winked. “But seriously, a lonely dream realm can’t be all bad.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was going to continue this topic of conversation. And he did. “I mean mine’s pretty lonely and I think it’s alright.”

“What?” She furrowed his eyebrows.

“My kindred-plane has but just me since like, forever, and I don’t think it’s that bad.” He shrugged.

Kaminari didn’t have a soulmate? That didn’t make sense, he’d tell them about all the adventures he’d run on in his dream. “You said you were helping some Jill girl fight zombies and stuff, just the other day.”

“Yeah, Jill Valentine. From Resident Evil.” He laughed. “I figured out a long time ago that I could just make her up in my dreams if I played the game until I fell asleep. She’s not my soulmate-.”

“You don’t have one…” Y/N whispered, sitting up.

“Nope, never did.” He offered her more chips, but Y/N just looked at him with sad eyes.

She cried in his arms about her soulmate dying and it turned out he never had one in the first place. “Don’t look so sad, Sunshine. It’s okay.”

“Denki, you don’t have a soulmate. That shit sucks.” Y/N flailed her hands.

“Yeah, but at least I didn’t get attached to mine and then they died. That sucks even more.” Kaminari argued.

Y/N slumped back against the couch. “This soulmate business is quite literal shit.”

“Yeah, but other people are pretty happy with it, so it’s okay to me really.” Kaminari hummed, nonchalantly. “Plus, no one can yell at me for my taste in decorations. That can really make or break a relationship ya know.”

Y/N laughed. “Oh yeah, totally. If my soulmate tried to decorate our space with half the shit that seems to appear in my room I’d have to throw hands.”

“Stuff appears in your dream?” Kaminari asked. “What, like, someone’s statue of Scooby doo?”

“Kaminari Denki, please tell me you don’t have a statue of Scooby doo in your kindred.” She tried not to laugh.

“No!” He said quickly. “I have a statue of Scrappy Doo.”

“Oh my god, no, you don’t!” She gasped.

“Yep! There’s a pond in front of my house and he’s in the dead center of it.” He grinned proudly. “And he looks amazing there.”

“Oh I bet he does.” Y/N snickered. “Bet he pulls the whole place together.”

“As a matter of fact he does.” Kaminari declared smugly. “What about your plane? What’s one big special thing you’ve got in it?”

Y/N hummed and thought for a second. “There’s a really big oak tree just behind my house and it’s covered in string lights, with a small ladder up the trunk. There’s a flat area in some of the branches so I can sit up there and read.”

“That sounds beautiful.” Kaminari said, fondly. “I have a tree kind of like that in mine too.”

“Does yours have a massive Pikachu in front of it?” She taunted, laughing.

She just barely missed the furrowing of his eyebrows before he answered. “I’m not entirely sure, I think, I’d have to take a look. I hope I do though, otherwise, I’d have to come steal yours.”

“Absolutely not! He’s my friend!” Y/N gasped and shoved at his leg. “Stick with your Scrappy Doo statue.”

Kaminari smiled. “Fine, fine. But if I don’t have a Pikachu in my dream, you owe me.”

“Mmhm, sure.” Y/N grinned.

For the next few months, Y/N and Kaminari grew closer, having bonded over their lack of soulmates. While they grew closer, not only did Y/N become happier, her kindred-plane seemed to get brighter, despite all the random things finding purchase in her realm and the fact that it was still growing. It was nice, she didn’t hate spending the night there anymore. She didn’t run into the disembodied hand anymore, but that was okay.

With what was happening in reality, she wasn’t too bothered by her dreams anymore. Instead, she focused on her friends, they were a wonderful reminder that life didn’t go to complete shit. For the first time, she actually let these people get close to her and drag her out of her hole she kept herself in.

… And out into the living room to watch the boys yell at each other over Mario Kart.

Y/N cursed and pushed Kaminari’s face away from her own as he laved his tongue across her cheek. “Denki, I swear to god if you don’t stop licking me, I’m going to bite you!”

“Ooh! Promise?” He flirted, smirking. “What else are you gonna do with that mouth?”

“Hurt your feelings, Sparkler boy.” She laughed, squishing his cheeks.

Kaminari threw himself into her arms, taking her to the floor. “So mean, I thought you loved me!”

“Oh yeah, she totally loves you with the way she made you beat yourself up today.” Bakugo snickered.

“Yeah, dude, she used your quirk against you better than you.” Kirishima pipped up.

“Hey, hey, clones don’t get fried when they use their ultimate! They just disappear and another one pops up!” Kaminari argued in defense.

“Jesus, Denki, you’re heavy!” Y/N shoved at his body, half heartedly. “Get off, you loser.”

“Uhg, fine, only because I have a race to win.” He rolled off her, to grab his switch controller.

“Oh thank god, I was going into the light for a second there.” Y/N gasped, dramatically.

Kaminari pinched her leg in retaliation. “Hey, I’m not that heavy!”

“Your head is though.” She stuck her tongue out.

“So mean.” He pouted as she turned to lay her head in his lap.

Y/N giggled as she pulled out her phone, to scroll through Tumblr for a fic to read. Moments went by before a snapchat notification popped up. Tapping on it, she found a common message from Mina.

‘You guys are too cute.’- Pinkiepie

‘We’re just friends, Mi.’-Y/N

A snap picture appeared in their feed and she tapped it open. There she was laying in Kaminari’s lap and there he was looking down at her, sweetly. ‘He’s giving you major heart eyes.’- Pinkiepie

‘Stop taking pictures of people, it’s stalkery.’- Y/N

‘That’s why you took a ss.’ -Pinkiepie

‘Oh fuck off.’- Y/N

‘Oh come on, just give him a chance, neither of you have sm’s so your not stealing him from anyone.’- Pinkiepie

‘You’re*’- Y/N

Y/N sighed and looked up to Kaminari’s face above hers. It apparently hadn’t been uncommon knowledge that Kaminari was Soulmateless, probably why the group had been so confused as to why she was so upset about it. It was normal to them, because it had always been Kaminari’s story.

Would it be so bad to make her own soulmate? Most divided soulmates stayed by themselves for the rest of their lives, but would it be alright if they didn’t?

“Oh, guys! I meant to tell you; I think I actually do have a soulmate!” Kaminari blurted into the air.

His admission quite literally derailed the entire room. Bakugo drove off the map in Mario Kart, Kirishima completely looked away from the game and Mina choked on her spit and her eyes flew to Y/N who paled significantly.

Sero was the only one who appeared unaffected. “Guys, he’s probably just saying that to throw us off, he’s in last.”

“I’m gonna blow you up, you put me in fourth with your little stunt.” Bakugo threatened.

“No, I’m serious!” Kaminari argued. “Over the last few months my dreams have been changing and stuff. Like it was making room for another person. My house is super spacy now, new decorations have been showing up for no reason, like there was a vase of flowers on the floor near my door, and my curtains changed colour, they’re a cute lavender colour now. Plus there’s a really big pikachu next to a beautiful oak tree in my yard.”

“Woah, dude, really?” Kirishima paused the race and turned to his friend.

“Yeah, totally.” Kaminari nodded, subtly looking down to meet Y/N’s wide eyes. “I was super confused for a while.”

“Holy shit, you’re serious.” Sero laughed. “Have you met them yet? Or are they just leaving surprises for you?”

“Well, I’ve seen her a few times, but I haven’t got the chance to talk to her yet, she wakes up pretty fast.” Kaminari shrugged.

“That’s so good Denki, I’m so happy for you.” Mina said softly as Y/N sat up.

“Me too, Denks. But speaking of waking up, I’m tired, so I’m gonna go take a nap.” Y/N hummed, yawning.

“Okay, see you later, Y/N.” They all chimed as she walked away.

“Yeah, see you later.” Kaminari called, carefully.

Y/N tried her best to contain herself and all but ran to her dorm. Along the way, her phone buzzed, no doubt a message from Mina. Once she was in her room, she flew to her bed, never had she been so eager to fall asleep before.

She quickly responded to Mina, ensuring her that she was alright and actually wanted to sleep. Y/N even sent her a reassuring picture of her smile with a short caption ‘I’m off to go see a Pikachu.’ After that, it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, but it was too long.

Y/N blinked open her eyes, finally appearing in her kindred-plane and spun around, trying to identify things in her dream house. She hurried to open the door and looked over to her tree, with the ever so famous Pikachu there. She turned and jogged in the opposite direction for the one thing she needed to see to make sure she was correct.

There it was. Scrappy Doo. In the middle of her pond.

Y/N jumped up and down, squealing to herself. It was happening, oh my god, it was happening. Now she just had to wait.

And wait she did. She had run back to her tree and climbed up to sit and await her soulmate. The soulmate she actually had again. Someone to share her dream world with again.

She had a soulmate.

Quietly for the next hour, Y/N sat and read one of her books, waiting almost patiently for him. She’d made it through the third chapter when a voice startled her away from the pages.

“Sorry, I couldn’t fall asleep for the life of me.” Kaminari said, smiling.

Y/N bit her lip and grinned. “I thought you missed my cue for a bit there."

"No, I was just a little too excited to fall asleep." He crawled up into her tree nook. "You see, I suddenly got a new person roaming my world almost like, uh, a forever person or something. What's it called?"

"Mm, I don't know. Kinda sounds like you've got a soulmate there, Denki." Y/N whispered as he came closer.

"Fucking finally." He muttered, leaning forwards to connect their lips.

But before he could make contact he ran into her hand first. “But, really, we are going to have to talk about your decorating choices.”

“Yeah, yeah, we can talk about that after this.” Kaminari chuckled and moved her hand to kiss her.

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