#bounty hunters need cuddles too

[sinisterexaggerator]

[ sick till I see you ] - cad bane

Summary: Cad Bane has had a tough time of it. He comes to you for a little TLC.

Gn! Reader

Warnings: None, just a little nip, lick, cuddling, and a worn out Duros looking for love, A.K.A FLUFF.

Word count: 1.5+

Notes: Wrote this last night half asleep, no real editing. Sorry if it sucks. Based on an idea we talked about in the Duros server because we're all feeling so tired. ;_; (@deepbluespace4, @renek-bane, @judathian)

There was something calming in your touch that remained unspoken. Cad Bane would never spill his secrets, though it was quite apparent he had grown accustomed to a comfort only you could provide. You were a steadying force in this harsh galaxy, someone the Duros could rely on from time-to-time, as his visitations were sporadic, yet he would reappear when you least expected it.

Tonight was such an occasion, the hunter floundering on a bounty the likes of which could have afforded him a lengthy stint of relaxation. He had taken on more jobs as of late to offset the price of fuel. It had risen exponentially since the forming of this new, “Galactic Empire,” and Bane was not amused. It ate into his profits more often than not, so the loss of this particular mark was an unfortunate stroke of rotten luck.

The one good thing to come of this was the target had been right here on Canto Bight.

A casino city, Canto Bight was a playground for the rich and famous, the arms-dealers, the shady business tycoons, the corrupt politicians, and the pirates, the scoundrels, the gamblers. You were none of these things. You were a cocktail server with a small flat to call your own in a shady corner of the city. Without you and others such as yourself, a place like this would go under in no time. Your job was essential.

It was also exhausting.

On your day off, you lounged with a good novella on your datapad, feet kicked up upon your worn caf table. You were just getting to a good part when a shadowy presence out of the corner of your eye startled you back to reality: you were not alone.

It should have been obvious. This was not the first time the wily Duros had found his way inside your home without warning or an invitation, yet it never ceased to surprise you.

You quietly rummaged in the side table situated by your sofa to extract a hidden holdout pistol. You carried this with you as you ventured deeper into your own house.

The hall was clear, so was the refresher. The kitchen was adjacent to the entryway, and you were already sure of it being vacant. That only left one place: your bedroom.

You crept to the door, weapon clutched in your hand. Peering inside, you were shocked and relieved to find the man face down, his thin, lanky limbs stretched out in an almost comical fashion.

Cad Bane had decided to sprawl out, taking full advantage of the situation as his body formed an “X” in the middle of your mattress. His floppy, ostentatiously large hat covered the entirety of his head, creating a leather halo that hid both his intentions and his temperament, while his armorweave duster had feathered out around him to give him the appearance of having wings.

It was an odd display, one that was not customary, but you would not judge your intermittent lover for his behavior.

It warmed your heart that he felt comfortable enough with you that he allowed himself to drop his guard, and it was a testament to your sometimes unorthodox relationship. But you found you wanted to go to him, to see what the matter was, to ease whatever suffering he must be feeling, and to comfort him in a way you knew he enjoyed.

“Bane?” your voice called out apprehensively. There was no response but a slight shifting of his weight, a deep groan rising from the pit of his chest as it rumbled to the surface, though masked by the compression of his entire face against your sateen sheets. You approached deliberately, suddenly feeling silly for holding onto your palm-sized blaster.

He was a danger, but not to you.

You set the pistol onto your dresser, bending at the knees to sink down to the floor at your bedside, one hand instinctually lifting to gently raise the corner of his hat.

Two searing red eyes stared directly at you. You involuntarily gasped, so stark was the contrast of their fiery depths to the dark coloration of your coverlet. They narrowed when you did not move again, the expression across your face not being one that Bane favored as he had been sure you would receive him with open arms. The Duros did something quite uncharacteristic: he pouted, his scant lower lip cresting downward into an obvious frown.

“Ah cahn see when Ah’m naht wanted,” he began, pushing up with both arms to rid you of his presence.

“Wait, no!” you said a little too forcefully, Bane settling back down as he gazed at you with an arch to his brow. “Don’t go,” you finished more softly, gingerly taking up the curve of his mandible in the crook of your hand. “I don’t want you to go.”

The Duros rasped out a hiss, though it was a release of tension, Bane’s eyelids falling to half-mast. That outward breath extended for what seemed like minutes; he loved the warmth of your skin, the smell, the taste…   

He reached out, shifting to a position that would allow him to help you up, though you were capable of standing on your own. But that is not what he wanted. He manipulated you to sit, convincing you with no more than a tug to your clothing that this was the very thing you should do because he deemed it so.

You entertained him, adjusting yourself to accommodate his nonverbal demand.

Once you were comfortable, the deadliest apex predator of the entire known galaxy buried his rostrum in the meat of your thigh as sinewy digits encased in cut-off gloves snuck beneath the single layer of thin fabric that made up your shirt.

Bane’s touch was icy, a small sound being emitted from your lips as goosebumps prickled up and down your body. This only seemed to excite him, lengthy arms wrapping around the whole of your waist as you realized his excessive accessory was in your way.

You took a chance; you removed his hat, placing it thoughtfully on your bedside table as the Duros curled into you, resting his cheek against your lap as the flat part of his face nuzzled its way into your belly.

Of all the things that could occur at this moment, Bane took up a fetal position, making himself cozy as he squeezed you tightly. You could not help yourself, knowing Bane would appreciate your efforts. You took to caressing him with a calculated touch despite his flesh being enwrapped in protective hunting gear, fingers running the course of his neck and shoulders. You massaged him tenderly, applying just enough force to hear a most gratifying sound.

Some might call it a purr, while Bane himself would call you crazy for suggesting such a ridiculous thing. Still, it only encouraged you to continue, and especially once the Duros had dug his way under the hem of your top, sharp teeth biting and tugging so as to maneuver it out of his way.  

You held your breath, not out of worry of being bitten, but because his shallow exhales licked at your skin making you shudder, a part of you deep inside stirring though you chose not to let it control you, at least not yet.

“Ah’m sick till Ah see ye’” he mumbled against your now bare stomach, “chucked all of a heap,” he added, grazing you with the points of his fangs as he enveloped you in the tangle of his limbs.

“What’s wrong, Cad?” you prodded, only concerned with his mental well-being as it was rare he searched out this level of affection, though that was not to say his words and actions did not move you, a faint blush tinging your cheeks.

“Tired,” he muttered, that vibration in his chest growing louder as his olfactory organs were overtaken with your delicious scent, “karked up,” he finally admitted, his damaged pride apparent in his tone. “Gettin’ old.”

“Nonsense,” you whispered, your thumb lovingly tracing the lines etched across his forehead as you attempted to sate his nerves. “What happened?”

He did not answer, your breath catching as you felt his tongue worm its way into the divot of your navel. He growled as if hungry, his fangs finally pressing against you, though he was kind enough not to bite down hard. He sucked the salt off your skin, licking up from your belly button to the base of your sternum, your body convulsing unwillingly beneath his sudden amorous onslaught.

He stopped just as soon as he started, teeth retracting and rostrum once again rough and scaly against your abdomen. He was reluctant to reply. “…don’ wanna talk about it,” he stated gruffly, shutting his eyes against the universe as well as against you.

“Then what do you want?” You coaxed him for an answer, not expecting the thing he wound up saying next.

“Dhis,” he offered casually, encircling you more succinctly in his embrace.  

If you had been a gambling kind of person, you would have lost, not imagining that in a million rotations Bane would confess to desiring your … cuddles.

You would not disturb him after that for fear of backlash, the notorious, murderous bounty hunter taking to your lap like an overgrown tooka as you settled in for the long haul, incapable and hesitant to move from this spot until he had his fill.

---

Masterlist

**reblogs / feedback appreciated!!**

[clu-ven]

Uh oh... there's only one bed! The Bad Batch Edition

word count: 2.1k - tw: mention of nightmares

After getting ambushed by some bounty hunters, what started off as a simple job quickly became a shootout. Luckily, no one got hurt but thanks to a few explosions and blaster fire from almost every direction, the Batch got split up. 

Thankfully the bounty hunters retreated after the initial shootout, jumping on their speeders and fleeing. Although this makes things a bit easier, you’re still separated, with most of the Batch already regrouped. Now the last two people left to join them are you and him, the both of you side by side and listening intently to the others over an encrypted comm channel. 

After some debating, the Batch concludes that you two should find somewhere to spend the night and join them back at the ship tomorrow, deeming the trek back to the Marauder too dangerous after dark.

Once you find a gloomy (but cheap) motel, you go up to the main desk and ask for a room. With the excitement of the day turning into exhaustion, neither you or him think of clarifying what kind of room you want, presuming the receptionist gives you the key to a twin room. 

Expecting to see two beds in the room, your eyes go wide when you open the door to see only one…

HUNTER

Entering the room to see only one bed, Hunter sighs, his shoulder deflating. It’s been a long, strenuous day and debating over who gets the bed isn’t what he needs right now.

He automatically offers it to you, not only out of exhaustion but because he genuinely thinks you deserve it more. Hunter’s never had a comfy bed, often preferring to nap on the chairs aboard the Marauder than the actual bunks. So the way he sees it, sleeping on the floor is more familiar to him.

But of course this doesn’t suit you, insisting that he takes the bed instead. He’s too tired to do this “No you should have it” “No you” debate and so he’s quick to compromise, commenting on how the bed is big enough for the both of you.

Hunter’s extremely respectful when you’re both in the bed together. He keeps close to the edge of the bed and opts to sleep on his side so he takes up as little space as possible.

And that should be it… both of you staying on your respective sides of the bed and nodding off to sleep.

But that doesn’t sit right with Hunter.

He’s overtired but being in a new environment means his senses are on high alert. Hunter doesn’t see how he’s supposed to get any rest while his senses are completely on edge. And so he turns to the one thing his senses are familiar with… you.

You hear him turn over and within a few seconds, you feel Hunter’s arm slowly wrap around you. He does this very cautiously, keeping an eye out for any sign of discomfort from you. But when you let out a soft sigh and move towards Hunter, he takes that as a good sign.

With his arms around you, Hunter nuzzles his face into your hair. Your scent grounds him, your body acting as a safety blanket to his senses as he finally drifts off to sleep.

He keeps his arms around you during the night and when you wake in the morning, you find your head softly pressed against his chest and Hunter’s face still covered by your hair. He wouldn’t speak about this afterwards, unsure what to say or how to explain his need to have you close but if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, Hunter will definitely be cuddling you again.

TECH

When Tech sees the bed, he understands what the most logical solution is… albeit slightly flustering to think about.

Sharing the bed means the two of you will get some proper rest and considering you’ll both need to make it back to the ship tomorrow, rest is something you both desperately need.

But Tech doesn’t suggest it immediately, taking his time to look around the small room for any viable alternatives. He could sleep on the floor but considering the large amount of stains and random discolouring, Tech’s pretty sure he’ll catch some kind of sickness if he lays down on it.

Already beginning to build a barrier of pillows down the middle of the bed, he shares his thoughts with you and how he believes sharing the bed is the best option.  You (obviously) don’t oppose his plan and help him with the barrier.

But is the barrier needed? Nope, in fact within an hour, you’re already dismantling the pillow barrier.

You both try to get some sleep but after the events of the day, you’re worried and ask Tech what he thinks will happen next. That turns into a conversation about if the Empire will ever truly let the Batch go and then discussing what you both hope to do in that ideal world, where the Batch is truly free. During this conversation, you both begin removing pillows from your barrier, finding it hard to have such a deep conversation with pillows blocking your view of one another.

Tech knows he should cut the conversation short and get some much needed rest, but there’s something within him that stops him from doing so. Usually it’s impossible to talk with you for this long without some kind of interruption from the others.

It’s rare to get so much time to talk to you one on one and now that he has all night with you, Tech doesn’t want to waste it. Kriff, fantasising about the future is the last thing Tech would normally do but with you? He can do it all night if you want.

It’s almost the early hours of the morning by the time you drift off to sleep, your head lazily resting against Tech’s shoulder as your eyes begin to close.

Tech doesn’t mind, shortly drifting off to sleep after you with a small smile on his face and arm wrapped protectively around you.

WRECKER

This doesn’t really phase Wrecker. The second his eyes land on the lone bed, he only has one question; do you want to be the big spoon or little spoon?

The way he sees it, there’s not much he can do to change this nor is this a big deal to him.

You’re both good friends and this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen asleep together. Simply, it is what it is and Wrecker’s okay with that.

It’s been a turbulent few weeks but Wrecker sees this as a break away, a mini vacation for just the two of you.

If you haven’t eaten yet, he’ll suggest you both go out to a local shop and buy as many snacks as you can. Wrecker is basically seeing this as a sleepover and what’s a sleepover without some midnight snacks?

The room is pretty basic so while there’s no way to watch any holomovies, Wrecker instead finds entertainment in your stories about life before the war. Any story you have, whether it be about your childhood or a night in 79’s, Wrecker wants to hear it.

The both of you spend most of the night sprawled across the bed, doing little competitions like who can throw a snack highest and catch it in their mouth.

When you’re both out of energy, there’s no actual discussion about sharing the bed. It just happens naturally, your head resting on Wrecker’s large arm as sleep takes over.

When you wake up the next morning, you’re on top of Wrecker, who’s snoring softly against you. His arms are thrown loosely around you as he holds you against his chest. Yeah you’re basically his replacement for Lula the Tooka doll.

It’s hard to get up, not because of Wrecker’s grip but because he’s so damn cosy. Closing your eyes, you decide another five minutes of bliss wouldn’t hurt.

ECHO

He won’t admit it but when the door slid open to reveal only one bed, Echo got a twist of anxiety in his gut.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel tired (or at least that’s what he tells you). And besides, the bounty hunters could still be lurking around so it’s dangerous for you both to sleep. Before you can question it, Echo gives the order that you sleep and he’ll take watch.

Echo can be quite a stubborn guy when he wants to be, so no matter how many times you suggest he gets some rest or offer to take the first watch, Echo brushes it off and insists he stays up.

It doesn’t take much thought to figure out why Echo is so adamant about staying awake. Sleeping next to you would be a dream come true for him but what if his modifications hurt you while he’s asleep? 

One accidental move of his arm during the night and he could hit you over the head with his scomp link. The very thought of that frightens him so if it were to actually happen, Echo is sure he wouldn’t recover.

After much back and forth, you get him to take watch while sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard as you sleep next to him. That way, at least Echo has some comfort, you under the duvet beside him while he sits rather rigidly next to you.

You fall asleep pretty quickly but you move quite a bit. Tossing and turning in your sleep, your brain can’t seem to relax, too wound up with all that’s happened recently.

Eventually, you roll a little too close to Echo, your body bumping off of him as you throw your arm around his waist. He stills, unsure whether he should move or if doing so would wake you.

Within a few seconds, you curl your body against his, your head resting on his thigh as you hold onto him, finally seeming peaceful in your sleep.

Echo has to admit, it’s pretty cute to see you relax almost the second you cuddle him, a warm feeling igniting in his chest. Suddenly, his worries begin to melt away and he wants to curse himself for overthinking the situation and not grabbing on to this opportunity while he could.

Despite being somewhat annoyed at himself, Echo’s grateful you’re next to him, nuzzling into him as you sleep. Absent-mindedly trailing his hand up and down your back, Echo rests his head against the cushy headboard, letting sleep take over.

CROSSHAIR

He rolls his eyes. That’s his first reaction. After all the shit he’s been through today and now this?! Crosshair isn’t happy.

You almost don’t catch what he says, his words coming out as a mutter as he tells you to take the bed and he’ll keep watch. Crosshair isn’t in the mood to debate this, so any suggestion you make of him also getting some rest is met with a sarcastic reply or a quip about how you’re wasting energy complaining when you should be sleeping.

While you get into the surprisingly soft bed, Crosshair sits at the bottom of the bed, sniper in hand as he cleans the weapon. It doesn't need to be cleaned but keeping himself busy helps fight off the urge to sleep.

Silence fills the room and you drift off to sleep, knowing you’ll be safe with Crosshair keeping watch.

But as soon as you fall asleep, that feeling of safety fades away and the nightmares begin. They don’t happen every night but when they do, the nightmares completely take over, causing you to mumble to yourself and flail in the bed.

When you leave out a particularly loud cry, Crosshair pauses, glancing behind his shoulder at you. He doesn't need an explanation of what this is, suffering from his own nightmares. 

Settling his sniper down on the wobbly coffee table, Crosshair moves closer to you, sitting beside your sleeping figure and watching as your face becomes clouded by dread. 

He’s not sure what to do, but hesitantly Crosshair places his hand on your shoulder, trying to still your erratic movements as he says “It’s alright, I’m here, you’re safe with me”.

His voice soothes you in ways you can’t even describe, his tone so calm yet confident. He’s shocked when the nightmares seem to subside, further encouraging him to continue his reassurances to you.

The more he reassures you, the more you seek out Crosshair’s warmth, your arms instinctively reaching out to him. As you try to cuddle him, Crosshair rolls his eyes before moving deeper into the bed, letting you cuddle into his side. This isn’t how he expected the night to go but now that you’re sleeping with your face in by his neck and leg on top of his, he assumes he’s stuck like this until you eventually wake up.

[thepascalofus]

Supply Run - Return (part two)

AO3

PART ONE

Supply Run - Exchange (part three)

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x afab!Reader

Word Count: 8.0k

Summary: You’ve been Mando’s crew partner for a year now. Throughout that year Mando has warmed up to you and given you signs that your heart throbbing crush on him is reciprocated. There’s one thing making you hesitate. The condoms he bought on the most recent supply run.

Chapter Summary: While Mando takes a trip to the market and gets what he needs, he ponders your relationship and what it means to him.

Content Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only! Switching POVs, post season 2, the Crest lives, strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of Grogu, soft!Mando, insecure!Mando (a smidge), helmet loopholes, pining, idiots in love, jealous!reader, sad!reader for a little, mentions of sex work (sex work is work!), eventual SMUT (making out, grinding, f!receiving fingering, f!receiving oral sex, p in v, PRAISE kink, dirty talk), FLUFF, cuddling, happy ending guaranteed!

A/N: Thank you all so much for the responses on the first part! This is my first fic that I've ever shared and it makes me so happy that other people enjoy my writing! Enjoy!

Mando handed his scope off to you in the worn down store. Wallpaper peeled from the ancient wooden planks of the walls. Cobwebs littered the untouched areas of the store. The work stations in the back, visible from the pick up counter at the front, were in complete disarray. Several projects started, but not finished. Several projects finished, but not retrieved.

You took the scope in your hand and twisted it in your hands until your gaze landed on the name of the manufacturer and the serial number. Your eyebrows shot up once the brand of the scope was revealed, it twisted in your hands once more. Hands raising the metal tube so it was level with your eyes, you looked into the scope. 

“Ah! I know what it is!”

Mando watched in confusion as you ran to a workstation and grabbed a singular tool. How did you know what was wrong so quickly? He sat in the hull of the Crest for hours attempting to fix the scope. The motions of taking the scope apart and putting it back together were etched into his brain from the number of times he did so. 

You returned to the front of the store with the tool in hand. “This manufacturer has been having these issues lately. They built their magnification system like no one else, but they didn’t seem to account for the need to recalibrate the scope every once in a while. Recalibrating too often causes the lenses to misalign.” 

Mando calibrated his every day. He had to. It was part of his job. A miscalibration could be the difference between a two hour hunt and a twelve hour hunt.

Your face twisted in concentration as you inserted the tool into the side of the scope. Jostling the metal, it popped open and allowed access to the inside. “For some reason they put these weird pins in…” You trailed off while you removed a total of three thin metal pins. Once the pins were removed, you clicked the top of the scope back into place and handed it to Mando.

Mando previously took the scope apart countless times. He never noticed any pins.

“Twenty credits, please.” You said with a smile. Your gaze met his–you somehow found it through his black visor–and you maintained eye contact.

The display on the inside of Mando’s helmet only progressed seven minutes after he entered the store. Inside of his helmet his eyebrows shot up. He was impressed. Not only with your efficiency, but with the reasonable price as well.

“I’m impressed.” He stated. Nodding at you, he retrieved a few credits from his utility belt and set them on the paint chipped counter. He turned and walked a few paces and then stopped in front of the door.

He’s been looking for a crew mate for weeks. The potential candidates he’s stumbled across were either annoying, rude, or incompetent. Throughout his time as a bounty hunter he’s been to countless repair shops. The service was always lack-luster, prices were too high, repair time much too long. 

Sure, he just met you eight minutes ago, but you had potential. He turned on his heel and faced you. Armor glinted in the low lighting of the run down shop. 

“Are you in the market for a new job?”

–

Walking to the market, he’d been reflecting on his decision to bring you onto the Crest as a crew partner.

It was the best decision he ever made, besides saving Grogu from the Empire.

You were intelligent. Friendly. Resourceful. Efficient. Brave.

You stared a Mandalorian straight in the eyes–well, visor–and didn’t even flinch. You didn’t even break eye contact, unlike everyone else. People would turn to whoever they’re with to avoid his gaze. They spoke like he wasn’t a meter or two away–and like he couldn’t amplify their voices with his helmet.

His tall, broad stance usually set everyone on edge. The heavy weight of beskar armor, a reminder of his skillset, didn’t aid in calming the nerves of anyone either. He was typically soft spoken around others, as he noticed people’s reactions when he spoke–eyes wide, speech stuttering, shaking hands–scared. 

Everyone was afraid of him.

Except you.

When you first boarded the Razor Crest, Mando was extremely careful in making sure you were comfortable. The majority of his days not hunting were spent in the cockpit or in his bunk. Whenever you crossed paths in the hull you offered him a small smile and quickly looked away. Did your bravery fade away?

He came back from a hunt one day, quarry in tow, and he was relieved to hear, “How was your day?” Fall from your lips once the bounty was in carbonite.

Still cautious–mindful of how the modulator made his voice sound–he kept his answers short and to the point.

“Fine.”

“Busy.”

“Awful.”

Hearing the four words you said after each return from a hunt, and being able to give you a response without you slinking away, made the hunts worth it.

One night always stood out in his mind. It was just like any other return from one of his hunts. Mando dragged the quarry up the Crest’s ramp by a cord tied around their ankles. He lifted the man to stand up, doing so effortlessly with a few grunts to spare. 

Your living space was in the hull, so he always tried to make the ends of his hunts fast. You didn’t have any choice but to watch. Mando didn’t want to make you watch for too long. Maker, he didn’t want you to watch at all.

His fist slammed the button to begin the freezing process. Breathing heavily, he stood and watched the bounty as they froze into the carbonite cell. A blanket of silence covered the hull once the hissing of the freezing mechanisms came to a stop.

“How was your day?”

There it is. His favorite part after the hunt. Knowing you were there, safe within the hull, and that you wanted to be friendly with him–even after witnessing him freeze a person he tracked down for several hours.

“Nothing you want to hear about,” he replied, his voice tinged with tiredness. The helmet’s modulator most likely didn’t register the sleep in his voice. Truly, he didn’t think that you would want to hear about it. The Mandalorian was afraid that hearing about his hunts would put you on edge. You already extended a branch of friendliness to him twice a day. He didn’t want to give that up by talking about the bounties he tracks down.

“Try me.”

Those words.

Those words have only ever been spoken to him by enemies. It always caused annoyance to wash over him, head to toe. He’s a Mandalorian. Confident of his skills in combat. No matter the odds, Mando knew he would like them.

But when those words tumbled from your lips, it was different. When his enemies weren’t scared of him, it was annoying. When you weren’t scared of him, adoration filled his body. And not adoration in a patronizing way, but adoration as a form of respect. 

It made him want you that much more.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Mando realized the crotch of his pants were tight. Nonchalantly, he clasped his hands together and rested them below his belt.

“Quarry tried to escape and they ran. Would have been back four hours ago,” the modulator gritted out. Again, he was conscious of how the modulator warped his voice. “Not too fun,” he added in an attempt to make the conversation more casual.

You were silent. He whispered a curse to himself under his helmet, one that he was certain wouldn’t be picked up by his modulator. Was his answer too much? Mando quickly became nervous and started to shift his weight from one foot to the other. The silence you left in the air made him a bit anxious.

The T shape of his visor peered over to you. You stood still in shock, reminiscent of the people that saw him in public. Before his thoughts could spiral too much, you replied, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Dank farrik. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to comfort him. “You don’t have to be sorry,” his chest brushed against your shoulder as he swiftly hopped onto the first rung of the ladder up to the cockpit. “It’s my job.”

“That doesn’t mean it sucks any less,” you said. He smiled underneath his helmet at your consideration. Your eyes widened and your mouth opened and closed as you realized what you said, “sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that your job sucks.”

You weren’t wrong. Making his way through tough terrain, relying on a blinking red light on a piece of metal to guide him. Finding them was a task in itself, but dragging them back to the Crest was the other half of his job that sucked. Mando looked over his shoulder at you and replied matter-of-factly, “My job does suck.”

A giggle bubbled out from your chest. Every once in a while you would be reading a funny article on your Holopad and your laughs would echo through the hull of the Crest, making their way up into the cockpit. He needed more of them. His silver helmet shook slightly from side to side and he turned back to climb the ladder. But not before he also let out a small chuckle.

If you were comfortable enough to stand up to him, and laugh at his awful attempts at jokes–after he just hauled a bounty onto the ship–Mando realized he was safe.

Not only were you safe with him. He felt safe with you, in more ways than one.

Kriff it. You extended a friendly attitude towards him–a faceless warrior covered in impenetrable armor–then he could extend a friendly attitude towards you as well.

You asked him about this day, both in the mornings and the evenings. He learned about what you like and didn’t like. One item stood out to him. Caf. He always entered into a cloud of caf scent when he sauntered into the hull in the mornings. Mando was usually up before you, so he figured he would start making you a cup every morning. Confident enough in knowing which kinds of caf you preferred, he would stock up on caf every supply run.

The Mandalorian got closer to you, both physically and emotionally. Sometimes he would catch his hands landing on your waist or your lower back when he passed you on the ship. You’d shoot him a small smile in response. The distance he kept from you only decreased. He wanted to see your smile more and more. 

One thing he didn’t see coming was your interest in Mando’a. He would mumble to himself in the ship while completing various tasks.

“What’s that word mean?” You’d occasionally ask. The Mandalorian would explain their meanings, sometimes struggling to translate the word to Basic.

He must have taught you at least two dozen words in Mando’a by now. Each time you asked you would give him your full attention. 

At night, if he amplified the sound with his helmet enough, he could hear you practicing the words and recalling their meanings. It motivated him to share more words with you.

–

All of these experiences have led to this day. He’s been planning it for a month or two now. 

He wants to ask you on a date. Nerves bubbled up from his stomach and throughout his body. They suddenly came to a halt. 

Not now. First, he needs to collect information on a quarry.

Lost in his thoughts, he looked up and the market filled his vision with you in his peripheral. It wasn’t too busy, part of the reason why he was comfortable enough for you to shop on your own. He clarified the meet up point to you and watched as you took off. You had a bounce in your step, probably due to your excitement at shopping alone. 

Once he meandered further into the market he began to collect information. This market was the bounty’s last location. Mando’s guess was that he either simply wanted to be in a small city, gambled their life savings away, or they paid for visit after visit with the workers at the brothel until they ran out of credits.

Only one way to find out. The gambling and brothels didn’t start up until later in the afternoon. To kill the time, and to possibly find the quarry, Mando wandered throughout the different sections of the market. 

He asked a few vendors about the bounty. Mando described the man to many market sellers and only got a slight lead from one woman donned in patterned fabrics. 

“I think he went that way,” the woman gestured with one of her hands towards an intersection, “Take the left path. I don’t know anything else beyond that.”

Mando dropped a few credits into her hand and gave her a polite nod, “Thank you.” He continued on and curved his gait to take the left path. From the signs and general merchandise displayed on each stall, he knew he was entering the clothing section of the market.

The helmet covering his head swiveled from left to right and right to left. No one matched the description of his quarry. Repeating his previous process, he made his way down the stall-lined alley and asked a couple different vendors.

Once the last vendor finished talking, and provided him with another lead, he dug his hand into his pocket and slid the credits on the stall’s counter towards them. Turning his back towards the vendor, his feet carried him two steps back into the market.

Then he saw you.

You stood hunched over a table of colorful bracelets. Tapping his fingers to the temple of his helmet, Mando zoomed in and the helmet displayed your face to him, deep in thought. Looking down, you were hovering your hands over a grid of various green bracelets. 

You stopped on one. Mostly brown, almost too much to be in the green section, Mando thought. Nonetheless, the green and silver streaks peeked in and out of the thick threads of brown that made up the bracelet. Your fingers sorted through the sizes of the bracelet and selected one that looked close to your size. 

Clutching it in one hand, the other hand searched for another of the same bracelet. It was larger than the previous size. You set the smaller bracelet down and tested the strings. The bracelet was adjustable, and you smiled at the discovery.

You transferred the bracelets onto the table of the stall and used one hand to dig into your pockets. Palm held out flat, Mando guessed that about twenty credits sat in your palm. He followed your gaze to the sign listing the prices.

PRICES

1 bracelet = 15 credits

2 = 30 credits

3 = 45 credits

4 = 60 credits

Shoulders falling, you dropped the credits back into your pocket and returned the bracelets to their original spot in the grid of green. Ground crunched beneath your shoes as you turned and continued wandering through the market.

Mando noted it was the third stall to the left of the bright green stall on the left side of the alley.

Not wanting you to realize he saw you, the Mandalorian walked in the opposite direction you took. After twenty minutes he noticed that the stalls became much more strange than the stalls in the clothing section of the market. Peering at the different products for sale, he saw a potions shop offering “super strength elixir” and a vendor selling various pet-like creatures. A few more vendors passed his peripheral vision as he continued his strides. They came to a stop once a building larger than the surrounding stalls came into view.

His helmet tilted upwards to read the sign displayed front and center on the large building: BROTHEL.

Tapping the side of his helmet, the time on the helmet’s display indicated that the brothel and gambling scenes had just begun. Mando tapped the temple of his helmet once again and the warm bodies within the building lit up, like he had x-ray vision. He counted a dozen in total. One body stood in the same spot inside near an entryway–the bouncer, Mando thought.

The bouncer was the individual that allowed access in and out of the building. If their memory was decent, they would be like a living guest book. Mando figured he could bribe them to reveal information, which was his usual plan with most of the beings he spoke with.

He sauntered over to the side of the building the bouncer was standing at. A singular light flickered over the side door, the sun was still out, so Mando was confused why it was on. The beskar helmet observed the side door.

Metal. Double deadbolts. Keypad on the left side. Small slit at eye level–neck level for the Mandalorian.

As soon as he crouched down to look near the slit, it slid open and revealed a thick pair of black eyebrows. Black eyes bore into the brow of Mando’s helmet, as the bouncer couldn’t seem to find his eyes. 

“Do you have an appointment?” The bouncer asked. The voice behind the door was gruff, as if the words had to crawl from the depths of his throat. 

“No,” Mando responded.

Black eyes blinked and then disappeared when the bouncer closed the metal slit. 

Mando was taken aback and furrowed his brow. His fist pounded on the door. He just wanted this hunt to be over with. He wanted to get back to you.

The slit in the door revealed two black eyes once more.

“I have credits and will pay you if you give me information on a client your establishment may have served.” Mando’s modulator gritted out loudly. Straight and to the point. All business. 

Eyes disappeared again, but were then accompanied with the sounds of the deadbolts unlocking. The metal door swung open to reveal a man dressed in all black with a silver name tag. Black hair matched the rest of his ensemble. 

Still holding the door, the bouncer asked, “What’s the bounty look like?”

An eyebrow raised inside Mando’s helmet, but he figured the bouncer knew the drill by now. Even other bounty hunters knew that brothels were what many bounties visited. A gloved hand unbuttoned a pocket on his belt and retrieved a bounty puck. Clicking the side of it, the puck displayed the quarry. 

The man stepped out of the doorway and onto the pavement, pulling the door closed behind him. His black eyes slightly squinted when his gaze trailed up and down the hologram.

“Ah yeah, I’ve seen this guy. He has a type, always goes for the blondes.” 

“Does he have any upcoming appointments?” Mando questioned.

The bouncer sighed in thought and pulled a small notepad from his pocket. Mando mirrored the man’s motion and produced a pen and notepad from his pocket. 

“The guy has an appointment in two days. He just asked to see a blonde. Figures.” The man shrugged and opened his notepad. Mando noticed it was a planner, and the bouncer flipped to the pages for the appointments two days from today.

“Which workers would take him as a client?” Mando’s modulator churned the words. His pen clicked as he readied himself to write.

The man donned in black made a fist with one hand and raised a finger with each name, “Ari. Taima. And Nomi. They would be in rooms one, five, or seven.”

Wow, Mando thought, this guy really knew the drill. He quickly finished up writing down the names and room numbers of each worker. The pen scratched feverishly against the cream colored paper, leaving behind black strokes to form letters and numbers. Notepad folding closed and the pen clicking, signifying the end of his notes, Mando returned the pen and paper to their place in his pocket. His opposing hand reached into a different pocket and produced a sizable amount of credits. Feeling generous, thankful that this hunt was going to be quick, he compensated the bouncer handsomely.

First task done. Second task on the horizon.

Creaking produced from the hinges of the metal door as the bouncer disappeared behind it once more. Flickering light gleamed off the beskar armor that protected the Mandalorian in combat. Although he wasn’t going into combat, because he wouldn’t be nervous if he was. 

Mando trained most of his life with the greatest warriors in the galaxy. Combat flowed through his blood easily. It was a part of him. 

But he was never trained on how to ask people out on dates.

On top of that, he was never trained on how to ask you out on a date.

He didn’t want to misread the situation. You could just be friendly. Who would want to date a man and not know what he looks like? Who would want to constantly live on a ship, without a permanent home? 

Being Mando, he prepared for the worst. If you said no, he figured that you would be uncomfortable living with the man who asked you out on a date. Knowing that he’s attracted to you. He would fly wherever you wanted and give you some credits to get started. Kriff, he’d send credits for however long it takes for you to get on your feet. Then he’d leave you alone. 

Admittedly, the Mandalorian would probably keep an eye on you to make sure you were safe. You just wouldn’t know he’s there.

But if you said yes.

Mando’s chest bloomed with anticipation. Firework-like tingles trailed up and down his limbs at the thought. He bit his lip within the confines of his helmet when he realized his pants had gotten tighter. Thankfully he was a Mandalorian, because heat washed over his face, half due to arousal and the other half in embarrassment.

The brown eyes underneath the helmet widened. If he wanted to do more with you and you agreed, he didn’t have protection.

Turning on his heel, cape whipping behind him, he made a quick pace back to the brothel.

Once he arrived at the gray building, the light at the side of the building having more of a purpose, Mando glided towards the same door as before. Bringing a fist up to the metal, he knocked three times.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Clink. Shhhkt.

“Do you sell condoms?” the modulator quickly blurted.

All business.

—

He arrived at the meet up point before you. Leaning against a nearby tree, Mando checked the time constantly, as if he was devoted to the action more than his Creed. If you were late, he always went looking. 

Thankfully, you trudged up to the food stall on time with a hefty bag full of purchases. Fine, brown gravel grinded against the soles of Mando’s shoes as he made his way over to you. His gloved hand slipped the bag from your grasp and the pair of you began walking back to the Crest.

Both of you carried on with your normal post-supply run routines. You and Mando, but this time just Mando, piled the purchases from the market onto the hull’s floor. From there, the items could be sorted through and put in their respective places around the Crest.

As Mando finished unloading the large bag of purchases, he quickly dug around for the receipts. He knew how much you liked to review the shopping haul each time a supply run was completed. Mando enjoyed seeing the satisfaction wash over your face after you read over the receipts.

But this time was different. You froze once you got to the last receipt.

Mando’s helmet tilted in confusion. He took a few steps closer towards you, “What’s wrong? Did we forget something?”

You remained still while your eyes darted over the lines on the receipt. With your back turned to him, Mando found the opportunity to zoom in on the ink printed on the flimsy paper.

ITEMS PURCHASED (1)

CONDOM - 12 PACK

Oh. Fuck. FUCK.

He hasn’t even asked you on a date yet and now you probably already think he’s a perv. Nerves took over his body as you continued to stand still.

Your hand quickly crushed the receipts and threw them in the trash, “Nope! The last receipt didn’t look familiar but,” you trailed off slightly but recovered, “I remembered what I bought from the place.” A nervous laugh–obviously fake, Mando knew what your real one sounded like–escaped from your lips.

He fucked it up. You knew he was interested in you like that. And you didn’t feel the same. He hasn’t even asked you on the date yet. It’s all screwed up now.

But he also felt like he didn’t have enough evidence. What if you did like him but the idea of…needing to use the condoms…made you nervous.

Mando had to at least try. The least he had to do was ask you.

He cleared his throat and grabbed the bag off of the floor. You stood away from him, biting the inside of your cheek, nervously watching his movements. 

“I’m going to go to the night market,” he informed you, “I have some business with a bounty I need to take care of.” 

The bounty wouldn’t be captured until two days from now. In reality, he was really going to go and purchase snacks, takeout, and a pair of those bracelets you admired. It would have been suspicious if he met you back at the meet up point with bags full of snacks. The beskar man figured it would be best to hold off on buying them until later, and tell you he was getting a bounty, so you wouldn’t catch on.

He should’ve waited for this second trip to buy the condoms, he thought.

–

Mando left to, “Go to the night market,” he said. You saw the condom listed on the market receipts, you knew where he went tonight. What he’s going to do. 

The brothels.

Yeah, sure, he’s paying a worker to give him a service. No feelings attached. But you didn’t want him to be with anyone else. Was Mando necessarily yours? No. Have you ever had sex with him? Also no.

That didn’t stop you from getting jealous.

And it wasn’t just jealousy. It was fear. What if he fell in love with one of them? Or what if he was going on dates? He could have a romantic interest you don’t even know about. Next thing you know, they’re going steady and you’re kicked off the ship. Or worse, you have to watch him love someone that isn’t you.

No more silence with him in the cockpit, watching as the hyperspace lights soar past the windshield. Feet tapping down the ladder as you both began your nighttime routines. He’d wait in the hull near the door of the fresher in just his helmet, undershirt, sleep pants, and socks. As he lifted off the wall from his leaning stance he’d ask you, “Are you done?” Holding his own hands in front of him, trying to seem relaxed, as if he was trying to look less intimidating. “Yeah,” you’d quickly respond, leaving the fresher and brushing past him. Sometimes his hand found your waist as he passed, or the small of your back. “Thank you,” he’d grunt gently as he closed the fresher door. 

No more of Mando letting out a small, “Good night,” before lingering on your closing eyes and watching as your lips smiled, forming your response, “Good night.” 

Falling asleep, you knew you’d wake up to him. He would be up before you on most days, leaving you a fresh cup of caf and your favorite ration pack (when he had them). The short chatter between you two, going over the logistics of the next hunt, telling stories from your past, or just thinking out loud to each other. Gone.

You would be banished from home.

The fear struck your chest. Heat searing through your ribcage and meeting your spine, the visions repeated over and over in your head. Tears fell like waterfalls from your eyes. Most streams connected underneath your chin and trailed down your neck. Your back met the hull’s wall as you sank down onto the floor. Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Your head was heavy and numb.

Just breathe. You knew you weren’t going to die. Go through some heartbreak? Maybe, but you knew you’d be alive. It helped. Your breath slowed and the fear dissipated into the air around you. That didn’t stop the flow of tears down your cheeks as your eyes were fixed on the closed ramp.

–

Mando’s footsteps set a steady pace back to the market.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

He displayed a map of the marketplace as an overlay on the display of his helmet. Mando usually reserved this practice for combat to aid in determining exit strategies and the best plan of attack.

But now he was using it to calculate the most efficient route throughout the marketplace in order to see you again sooner. 

Closing the overlay from the helmet’s display, he was met with the sight of the market. Long strings of lights decorated the different stalls. Many vendors took advantage of the dark and used different, bright combinations to reel in customers. Some lights were multicolored. Some flashing. Some huge and some small. He thought of the “ooh”s, and, “ahh”s that you would let out at the brilliant display.

The Mandalorian started in the food section of the market. Carefully examining which vendors carried your favorite snacks, he made purchase after purchase in quick succession. His helmet remained on a swivel, scanning the stalls from right to left and left to right. 

A stall offering your favorite kind of takeout came into view.

Once Mando arrived at the stall he ordered two takeout meals. The vendor looked startled and confused as he ordered. They shakily accepted the credits for the two meals. Gazes drifted away from Mando and quickly returned as he stood waiting for the meals to be prepared. A bell rang and he retrieved two warm containers, placing them in his bag alongside the snacks.

One last stop. The bracelets.

Marching through the food district, he came upon an intersection at which the left path led him to the clothing district. Yet again, his helmet pivoted on his neck from one side to another. 

The third stall to the left of the bright green stall on the left side of the alley.

Mando continued his steady pace until the bright green stall came into view. The brightness of the exterior paint was exaggerated by the warm light emitted by lanterns, which decorated the outside of the shop. He didn’t notice before but the store sold children’s clothes. Onesies. Small shoes. Tiny hats.

A small tunic. Small enough for a human child younger than one year old. The tunic reminded him of Grogu’s. Mando’s bare hands brushed against the material countless times as he cradled The Child in his arms.

The last time he spoke about Grogu was with you. You listened and offered support. He’s never had anyone do that for him.

His visor turned to his left. The soft fairy lights of the stall reflected off of the beskar helmet on his head. As if the beskar reflected a dark sky decorated with bright stars. Various fabrics hung from the side of the vendor’s stall to cover the old wooden planks. Little accessories were placed throughout the shop on different tables and displays. 

Mando wasn’t focused on those items, he was focused on the long table of bracelets organized by color. His feet carried him to the green section. The helmet turned downwards to allow him to observe the selection. 

Shit.

There were so many bracelets similar to the pair you held, just all in different combinations of green, silver, and brown. Was it the bracelet with the large green cord and the small silver and brown threads? Or the one with the large silver cord and green and brown threads? Or thick brown cord with streaks of green and silver? His hands hovered over the options, doing his best to recall the details from earlier in the day.

“It’s this one,” a woman’s voice said.

A bit startled, the Mandalorian looked up and found a woman standing on the other side of the table. She wore long robes with intricate patterns. Jewelry decorated every limb and part of her body, like jewels were dripping down from her skin from a storm of gemstones. Hair cascaded around her shoulders and down her back. Her smile was kind and her gaze met Mando at his eyebrow.

A good try, he thought.

“I’m sorry?” He replies. She couldn’t possibly know which bracelet he was trying to find.

“You were watching them earlier. From across the street,” she let out faint exhales as she let out a short laugh, “Maybe you should hide a little better next time.” 

She reached out and picked two bracelets out of the display grid. “I remember the sizes too,” she said, “The person you watched held onto them for so long, they seemed pretty attached to them. I kept track of which bracelets they were just in case.” The robed woman shot him a friendly wink.

“In case of what?” Mando questioned. He was still in shock that the woman noticed him staring at you from across the street. 

The woman glanced up at him like that was a dumb question, “In case you came back to get them, Mandalorian. This isn’t my first day on the job.”

It saved him the time and stress of trying to remember which one it was, so he shrugged and watched the woman’s jewelry dangle as she typed onto the register. 

Beep. Beep. Beep beep. Ching.

“Okay sir, twenty credits please!” The woman extended her hand out and waited for Mando to place credits into her palm. She was met with the tilting of the black T shape on Mando’s beskar helmet. 

“I thought the price was thirty,” he stated as he began to reach into his pockets to retrieve his credits.

The woman let out another small laugh, “Oh, I suppose I should have made the sign larger,” her decorated fingers pointed to a small sign above the one that displays the bracelet prices.

$10 OFF WHEN YOU BUY TWO OR MORE

Mando’s shoulders dip in realization that you could’ve bought the bracelets in the first place. A sigh escapes his modulator and he hands the credits over to the intricately robed vendor. The credits clink into her palm, and then into the register.

He waits silently for her to package them up in a small bag. 

“They like you, you know,” the woman mentions, “No one like them would be deciding on which bracelets to buy for that long if they didn’t.” She paused as she was about to place the larger of the two into the small bag, “And look at the size of this one! It’s definitely for you.” 

The Mandalorian nods, “I appreciate that,” he pauses before turning away, “let’s hope they do.”

–

Mando sets a faster pace back to the Crest than the one he took from the Crest to the market. He’s impatient, he can’t wait to walk up the ramp and see your body curled up, comfortable and safe, while you sleep soundly in your bed–if you can even call it that, he thought. You usually went to bed early when he went on hunts, otherwise you would be awake talking to him.

Slipping the bag from his shoulder, an ungloved hand rummaged through the contents searching for a small bag. His fingers found the familiar texture and he pulled it out from between the snacks and the takeout. 

Mando slung the bag back over his shoulder, pulled the larger of the two bracelets out of the small bag, and slipped his hand through the ring of brown, silver, and green. Grabbing one of the ends with his fingers and pinning it to his palm, the other hand tightened the bracelet to a comfortable size around his wrist.

Once the small bag was returned to its place inside of the larger one, Mando peered around him to get a good look of his surroundings. 

The sun was about to set, leaving only a sliver of light available to provide dim light to the landscape. Rocks littered the ground. Shadows from each one making them appear larger in the light of the impending dusk. He reached up and tapped a finger to the temple of his helmet. No living thing was around him.

He paused and set the bag on the ground. Doing one last scan of the area, one of his hands gripped the chin of his helmet and lifted the beskar from his head. The hand held the helmet at his side while he marveled at his wrist.

He caught a good patch of remaining light and watched as the green and silver threads gleamed against the thick brown ones. The bracelet was beautiful. Not only because of the design, but because you picked it out. And it was for him.

Becoming paranoid, the Mandalorian quickly slipped his helmet back onto his head. He waited for the seal of the helmet to engage before continuing back towards the Crest. This time, at an even faster pace.

–

You sat there until you heard heavy footsteps approaching from outside, the hydraulics of the ramp coming to life. Thinking fast, you stood up and made your way towards the fresher to start your nighttime routine.

“Why are you still awake?” Mando’s voice was confused. He stood in front at the top of the ramp with his helmet tilted, hands resting on his hips, but his shoulders were slumped, a bag slung around one. He looked…worried.

Mando was right. Usually when he went on hunts you went to bed early. Nowadays the only thing that kept you awake was him. Talking with him was how you spent most evenings on the Crest, your voices echoed and bounced back to each other in the hull.

He’s used to seeing you curled up on the sleeping pad covered in blankets. Soft breaths came from your body and radiated throughout the Crest. Just like a minute ago, his footsteps would come up the ramp with his bounty in tow. Soft grunts could be heard kitty-corner from your spot in the hull. A hiss of mechanisms as they froze the bounty in carbonite. Then a bit of silence. 

The absence of the carbonite freezing stood out in your mind. No bounty, even when he said he was going to go and find one. Your eyes teared up slightly again as the realization truly set in. Mando really did go to the brothel.

You just wanted this night to be like any other night he came back to the Crest with a bounty.

After the bounty was frozen, heavy footsteps made their way across the floor of the hull. But they always stopped a few paces away from your bed, halting for a moment. Mando would complete his nightly routine. Setting the Crest’s coordinates for the next planet and showering in the fresher if he needed to–he usually did.

No matter what the events of his nightly routine were, it always ended with him standing in the doorway of his bunk–the sound of his footsteps always stopped partially inside.

“Good night, cyar'ika.”

You didn’t know what the Mando’a meant, since Mando never used that word around you, but you knew that the, “good night,” was all you needed to finally fall asleep.

You always waited up for him, only until reasonable hours of the night, of course, but he didn’t know it.

The sound of his footsteps in the present snapped you out of your hazy state. Crying really does a number on your brain.

“Just…couldn’t fall asleep,” you offered him a small smile as you pulled some products out of the tiny fresher cabinet. You wet your face and applied a small amount onto your fingertips, tapping them together for both hands to have the product. As you lifted your face and your hands to the mirror to begin washing your face, you were met with swollen lips, puffy eyes, and slight tear trails dried onto your face, despite the water you just splashed onto it. You froze.

There goes any of your chances to get away with how you spent your night. Staying up late staring at the Crest’s ramp. Waiting for Mando to come home. At least what you thought was home.

“What’s wrong?” Mando’s voice got clearer as he approached the fresher door. His strides long, footsteps clunking, as he removed his leather gloves and tucked the pair into his utility belt.

You went to turn away from him but he got there faster than you could. His ungloved hand rested on your shoulder, grip slow yet firm as he turned you to face him. He rubbed tiny circles onto your skin with his thumb once his eyes beneath the helmet noticed yours.

Your reflection on the silver beskar of his helmet stared back at you. Could you even get away with a lie at this point? What else would have made you cry? It’s not exactly like you could have said the truth either.

Oh yeah, I was sitting here having a panic attack as you participated in a perfectly normal service that is offered on this planet. Then I spiraled and thought about how you might not even want me to be here, that you’ll find another partner to be on this ship with you, and toss me away like none of this meant anything to you.

Mando’s hand waved in front of your face and it brought you back into the present moment. “Did someone come onto the ship while I was gone?” His voice gritted out from the helmet’s modulator. 

“Maker, no,” you huffed and tried to look less suspicious, hoping he’ll just drop the topic.

“Then what is it?” He murmured, his modulator barely picking up his syllables. His wide shoulders took up most of the fresher’s door frame. The grip on your shoulder tightened slightly.

“It’s…I don’t think you’ll want to hear it.” You shrugged and repressed the heat of anxiety creeping down the back of your head. Turning to wash and dry your hands, you let out a sigh and started to walk towards the main open space of the hull. Your shoulder gently bumped him as you slid past his large frame in the doorway. 

Suddenly your hips were being snapped backwards and dragged back towards the fresher. His damn finger was in your belt loop again. 

He pulled you close to him, feeling the heat from his knuckle dig into your hip and spread throughout the rest of your body. His helmet leaned down to look you in the eye and tilted once again.

“Try me,” he paused. He brought his hand up to grip onto the valley where your neck meets your shoulder, slowly enough so you could back away if you so desired. His large palm and thick fingers were calloused and warm. The grip he had on you was still gentle, slightly squeezing. “You know you can tell me, right?”

You let a deep inhale permeate through your lungs. The words flowed through your individual cells. Thoughts of lying escaped your body with each breath. The debate inside your head would end. Whether he had those feelings for you or not.

“I got upset because you went to the brothel.” You told him. Lips trembling and eyes squinted open in an attempt to meet his gaze.

“The brothel?” He held both of your shoulders and brought his visor closer to your face. Thumbs rubbed your shoulders yet again. He sighed as your name left his lips and traveled through his helmet, “I didn’t go to a brothel tonight.” A titled T-shaped gaze met yours. You knew he was looking you in the eyes, and yours into his.

Brows furrowed, you sniffled slightly, “I-, I saw that condoms were on the market receipts.” The thumbs on your shoulders stopped, his chest didn’t rise and fall. He froze. You made Mando freeze. 

“Look I know I’m just being dramatic and paying for that kind of thing is completely normal. I just,” you trailed off and thought of a quick replacement for your worry, “I was worried you would get hurt there.”

Mando’s shoulders fell and his helmet cocked to the side. “What?” He questioned. “How would I get hurt? None of the workers there had weapons.”

“How would you know that if you didn’t go?” You whispered to him. Your gaze left his and it dropped to the shape in the center of his chestplate. The crystal shape rose up and down slowly.

“I got information on a bounty there earlier,” he sounded like he was talking to a hurt animal. Gentle. Slow. Calm. “What's the actual reason you’re upset?” 

Kriff it.

“I had a panic attack because I thought you went to the brothel. Maybe you would like the worker there more than you like me, I spiraled and thought about how you might not even want me to be here, that you’ll find another partner to be on this ship with you,” your chest heaved and as you listed off your previous thoughts of worry. Your hands shook as they landed on top of Mando’s, and you took a deep breath, eyes meeting his gaze like before, “and toss me away like none of this meant anything to you.”

Mando is quick. He flipped his hands to grab one of yours and tugged you into the hull. Kneeling, he opened a cloth bag, one from the market, and dug into it to search for something. 

He actually went to the night market. You thought, now you look so clingy. So needy. He was just going to show you what he got to prove he went.

He turned and held his hand out. Sitting on top of the golden skin on his palm was a bracelet.

The bracelet from the market.

“I saw you looking at these, you looked for a long time and then put them down,” He stood up and set his gait to slow steps as he made his way over to you.

You laughed nervously, accompanied by a small sniffle, “Sorry yeah, I know I just should have been getting the stuff we needed. You didn’t have to go back and get it for-.” Mando raised a finger to halt your speech and continued what he was saying previously, “you put them down. You had two bracelets.”

“They had lots of them that I liked…I had two that were a tie and I just decided to get neither-.” Mando cut you off again.

“You were holding one bracelet consistently and then picked another in a bigger size,” you froze at his words. Dank farrik. Now he was going to think you’re super clingy. 

“I wasn't completely sure who you wanted to wear the bracelet, but I took a guess.” He pulled his long sleeve past his elbow and revealed his bare forearm. Strong. Capable. Solid. And a matching bracelet was donned on his wrist.

Your cheeks radiated with heat as he took your wrist and put your bracelet on you. His warm fingertips brushed the soft skin of your wrist, sending chills throughout your body at the meticulous skin-on-skin contact. 

Once the bracelet was secure around your wrist, Mando dipped his head and looked down at the floor. One of his hands gripped the underside of his helmet, and the other held onto your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat at the gesture. He quickly lifted his helmet to release his mouth, and he pressed three kisses on your wrist where the bracelet was. Mando’s lips were soft and timid, his hand caressing the skin on yours. Silver from his beskar helmet blocked your view, but Mando sealed his helmet and brought his eyes underneath the visor to look into yours.

“This means everything to me.”

Supply Run - Exchange (part three)

[vampyrincey]

luffy ; boyfriend head canons —

✦; luffy x gn! reader, fluff. purely self indulgent. categories ; sleep & cuddling, dates, and jealousy.

[ part i | part ii | part iii ]

✦ masterlist.

# sleep & cuddling

Luffy is the kind of person to love cuddling. Whether he’s the big spoon or the little spoon doesn’t matter to him as long as you’re both nice and cosy.

He tends to move a lot, yet somehow always ends up clinging onto one of your limbs.

There’s never a night where he isn’t all cosy up against you, all snores with the occasional sleep talk.

Sometimes you’d wake to bite marks all over after one of Luffy’s dreams of giant banquets.

Lose all hope of getting out of bed before he’s awake. It is not happening. He’ll have all his limbs stretched out and wrapped around you till the morning.

Or at least until the smell of breakfast wakes him.

# dates

Dates with Luffy almost always end in trouble.

Trying to have a picnic on the beach? Giant killer crabs and Sea Kings come crawling and wreck everything.

Date night at a small and cosy restaurant? The bounty hunters in town manage to find the two of you, chasing you out of town.

The only play safe is the Sunny. Sitting on the figure head is always enjoyable. When the ship is not under attack, at least.

Even with how chaotic things would get, by the time noght came the two of you would be wrapped up in each other’s arms, as peaceful as could be.

Luffy wouldn’t give up those times for the world.

# jealousy 

Luffy isn’t an inherently jealous person. He’s pretty easy going, and tends to laugh things off. If you get asked out by someone he doesn’t know he wouldn’t let it bother him, brushing it off.

“ I know you only like me, why would i worry?

If he knew them, however, it would likely be a slightly different story. Especially if they had went out of their way to ask you out.

He would grumble about it for hours, about how they could do that when they knew you were spoken for, and soul likely refuse to speak to them too.

He wouldn’t need much to move on from it, though, seeing as, at the end of the day, you’re all his.

Being jealous of people pursuing him, however, would be hell.

Romance isn’t something Luffy has ever been used to. Heck, getting together was a nightmare in on itself. But dating him was worth the trouble and more.

He couldn’t tell if someone was flirting with him if they had smacked him in the face with a love letter.

This was both a blessing and a curse.

On one hand, you had nothing to worry about. Anyone who bothered to ask him out would only end up

The more pushy suitors, however…

A well placed death glare or a little PDA worked well.

Thankfully, even though Luffy was one of the the best people ever, he didn’t get many since he’s the straw hat pirate’s captain.

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 18

Summary: Cooper comforts you after the two of you leave Vault 3. There isn't anything he can do to take your memories of that place away, but he sure as hell could try.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings: Not many? Hurt/Comfort. Cooper does his best. Drug use and sexual assault are mentioned. Lots of cuddles and crying.

Masterlist

You don't remember how you got out of the Vault, and you don't care to recall how either. You lay in bed in your room at the Atomic Wrangler for three days, recovering from the copious amount of chems that the fiends have shoved into your system. Julie Farkus had told Cooper that she was lucky to be alive and that most women didn't have someone that could save them like he had for you.

Cooper had grit his teeth, lips pulled in a nasty sneer, and told the good doctor that it'd almost been too late, but he was just glad that Julie could help him. Today was the first time that you felt up to more than just sleeping, and the ghoul made sure to be by your side. You sat up, back pressed against the wall, and played with the plate of food in your lap.

"You gonna eat, smoothskin?" He asks and shifts his weight in the stool beside your bed. Cooper's been here for the better part of those three days, only leaving for necessary reasons and never for long. The bounty hunter is dressed down, only his jeans and button-up and boots, and you finally look at him.

You clear your throat, lips pulled in a harsh frown. "Yeah, I will."

Cooper doesn't like the tone you use and sits forward, elbows on his knees, and he stares you down, "Do I need to feed you?"

You scoff at the vauge threat and pierce a piece of steak before popping the morsel in your mouth and slowly chew it. You eye Cooper then swallow, "Happy?"

The ghoul narrows his amber eyes, "Not yet."

He watches your lips purse and look away from him, shoulders slumping and hands going limp. He doesn't expect to see tears growing in your eyes or to watch the way you fold into yourself, lips trembling as a broken apology spills from between your lips.

Cooper rises and takes the plate away from you, setting it to the side so that he can crawl into the bed with you. He sits against the headboard and pulls you back so that you rest between his legs against his chest. You don't bother fighting against him and simply cry a little harder when his hands rub soothing motions across your back.

"Wanna talk about it yet?" Cooper offers quietly. You've not said shit to him about your time in Vault 3. He understood the big picture when he'd arrived down there. His smoothskin had been treated worse than a fucking dog, drugged up and left to wallow in your own filth.

You shake your head. You don't understand how Cooper even wants to touch you right now. You feel disgusting, and the phantom feel of the fiends' hands still haunt you at every second of the day. You want another shower, but hot water was a precious commodity.

"Stop apologizing," Cooper rumbles after a moment, and you snap your mouth shut, unaware that you'd just said everything out loud. His arms tighten around you, and you bask in the strength of the hard planes of his body.

"Nothing those bastards did to you could make me love you any less."

His words only make you sob harder, but you can't help but feel relief at them. Your ghoul loved you and had taken on an entire vault of chem addled cannibals to save you. He had come out on top and dragged your sorry body all the way back to Freeside, snarling and demanding help from the followers.

"Thank you," you say, and press yourself as close to Cooper as you can. You never want to let go, and you never want to see the inside of a vault ever again.

"You're mine, Darlin', "Cooper rumbles and tightens his hold on you, "And nothin' will ever stop me from comin' for you."

*sorry if this one is a little lackluster. I had some trouble with it. ❤️*

[zeggyzone]

d&d / fantasy valorant

has been on my brain. so here’s my little masterlist on what i think everyone would be.

DISCLAIMER

i’ve played d&d like three times so don’t expect all of these to be accurate/they’re my opinion :(

astra // astral elf monk

hey, i just think it makes sense. monks can deal damage and since astra derives her power from the astral guardians, it makes sense, no?

plus, i think she’d be really badass with astral elf genes…

breach // centaur barbarian

WALK WITH ME HERE. just listen to me. A CENTAUR. HE’S SO CENTAUR.

he’s very tanky and i think it very much fits his whole vibe— and if you think he’s annoying with two legs, he’s gonna be ten times more annoying with four. can totally see him absolutely destroying someone by bucking his back legs into someone.

brimstone // dwarf paladin

honor is huge for dwarves and i really want to play that in with brimstone. i want to say that kingdom could’ve been this crazy god thing but maybe i could look into that later. all i know is that he is a paladin with a heart of gold.

in a little doodle i did, i made him a tavernkeeper… so maybe he’s an ex-paladin now-turned a humble tavernkeep.

chamber // high elf artificer

i wanted to make him a ranger, but an artificer makes me giggle. probably because one of my d&d characters is an artificer and was loosely based on chamber. (she’s a rich tiefling seamstress of many talents, if you even care.) also you can imagine chamber as a tiefling too, but, i think high elf works better.

deffo still a weapons designer, maybe even a blacksmith. probably works closely with magic users to make custom weaponry to channel their mana in.

clove // fairy bard

look, as much as i’d LOVE to make clove an immortal god watching over the whole fantasy world, i just HAVE to include them as a fairy who CONTINUOUSLY breaks the 4th wall. it’s so funny.

clove would probably have DEADPOOL level fourth wall breaks, and constantly make jokes and references of ‘the real world’ and how they’ve ‘seen all of you before.’

cypher // tiefling wizard

WALK WITH ME HERE. he had his horns ripped off. WALK WITH ME.

he hides his identity partially because iirc tieflings aren’t exactly … liked by the public eye? i also like to think he uses his wizardry to fuel his whole information broker schtick. he uses arcane eye and everyone hates him for it.

deadlock // snow elf beast hunter

i know that beast hunters aren’t exactly a CLASS but come on. lets be honest with ourselves.

deadlock who lost her team to a rabid mythical beast, now dedicating herself to hunting them down and neutralizing them, one bounty at a time. i like to think that she doesn’t necessarily kill them if they can be saved, or at least put them down painlessly. otherwise, she aims for the fuckin’ throat.

fade // half-elf sorcerer

walk with me here. fade is a MAN in the universe OKAY walk with me. i made a hc video on tiktok where i made fade a half-elf sorcerer that is haunted by the voices in his spellbook. his character name is demir, and upon further research, i have found out that sorcerers CANNOT use spellbooks. (stupid, i know.) so work with that as you will.

i think she works for nightmare to feed it in return to find information on her father. she's a bounty hunter, but ONLY for nightmares and for information. you feel me?

gekko // tall-man druid

i think this one’s a given.

i’m practically making him beast boy, BUT IDGAF!!!! he has a connection with his buddies and often shifts as needed. he likes turning into a dog and cuddling. trust. his character name is oetam. yes, it's mateo backwards.

harbor // warforged artificer

this one is kind of me fucking around. as much as i wanted to make him a water based race, he was chosen to hold the artifact.

i think he was made by realm to be their historian and antiquities expert, but as soon as he was the chosen one, was shut out, just like in the cinematic.

iso // half-orc fighter

i know i could've put iso as a tiefling or something like that but i think him as a half-orc is cooler. he's tall, bulky, and TANKY.

i originally wanted him to be a paladin, because he could change oaths from hourglass to the protocol through a huge quest in sparing omen... that whole thing, but i think a fighter works better.

jett // air genasi rogue

let's be so fucking for real JETT WILL BE PUT ON SOME ROGUE SHIT WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT. I WILL FORCE FEED IT TO YOU WITH A GOLDEN SPOON.

if omega earth isn't canonical in the d&d world (which i highly doubt) she has an evil twin that does shit on her name, henceforth, she has to hide. otherwise, same backstory.

kay/o // warforged fighter

HE. IS. WARFORGED. [actively shoving food down your throat]

very much strikes me as a robot learning how to be normal. definitely works along brimstone-- he got a job at the tavern and helps him sort out bounties and act as security. he's also totally a bodyguard for money.

killjoy // tiefling artificer

she's so tiefling u can't say anything. she's a PINK tiefling thank you very much. definitely a party girl, too!

i think she's the same idea as chamber, but she's paid by brimstone! i wanna think he took her in as his protégé but atp he might as well be hers. initially he wanted her to help with kay/o, but she just ended up control-freaking everywhere and upgrading everything in sight. she has matching names with oetam. it's aralk.

neon // wood elf ranger

neon is a speedster, so it makes sense to give her one of the fastest races in d&d (based on walking distance, at least). i wanna think she's a knight... stay with me here.

ex-k-sec makes sense for her to be a knight? so maybe she just has the title, but kind of just does contract work? also! the whole lightning thing... mayhaps cursed? or maybe just a lightning god didn't want her. choose which one you like out of those two.

omen // tall man-tiefling rogue

hear me out; he used to be a tall man, but after the whole 'incident' was turned into a tiefling. LISTEN BRO IT MAKES SENSE.

he works as a merc, sporting a cloak to shield his 'hideous' self. he frequents brimstone's tavern for jobs, and always emerges from the shadows instead of using the door. he's become accustomed to showing up after closing with the bounty, and in return, spooks everyone working there. killjoy had to hit her fantasy equivalent of an inhaler after a few spooks.

phoenix // dragonborn bard

[shoveling food down your throat] that is a fucking dragonborn if i ever did fucking see one.

and, he's a bard because he was in theatre school, duh. i like to think phoenix is a very popular entertainer but also uses his talents for other jobs on the side. otherwise... maybe he's a knight! i don't know. i like the performer idea better.

raze // dwarf alchemist

she was also in the d&d video! her name is razinho ('little raze' haha). probably a merc with a very, err, explosive personality. wandered in the tavern a lot and hit it off with aralk.

if i had to assign her a class, maybe a fighter or a barbarian.

reyna // vampire warlock

listen. i want to say that the vampire side of her is empress. she has to devour souls (or blood!) to keep empress happy. you see where i'm going here? [fade bulletin board spray]

she's tied to empress so long as lucia is sick. gekko and her met after she found him injured in dog form... guys please i love them so much.

sage // high elf cleric

her healing is a gift. come on bro. she's as cleric as it can get. while i think she also derives power from the earth (she's in fact a geomancer) i think the majority of her mana comes from the higher power that gifted her.

i want to think she also works as a ... well, sage. she does so back in shaanxi. otherwise, she's found at brimstone's tavern providing her healing. sometimes she goes into dungeons and does free revivals.

skye // dryad druid

[shoveling food down your throat] dryad skye [more food] druid skye. also isn't it crazy how THAT is the only skye picture we have. rest in peace.

i wanna think that her pack is a bunch of animal-shaped plants that she helped escape a garden. i think that's really funny. 10+ points if it's a garden belonging to kingdom.

sova // avian (owl) scout

a former knight in charge of reconnaissance. he left after a tragic accident.

he lives with his babushka and takes care of her-- sometimes he takes up bounties for extra cash, and brimstone is trying to work his way into sova's good side-- he could really use a scout.

viper // naga shifter alchemist

probably used to be a cleric but renounced her belief-- even better, after doing what she did to omen, she lost her power and took it as a sign to take up researching death.

yes, she is a naga. it makes so much sense, nobody talk to me. her and brimstone are old friends and she frequents the bar also because of omen. the reason he was sent to kill her should stay the same i think.

yoru // changeling rogue

last one! he was also in the hc video. except he was a fighter. his name is kurayami. no, not kuronami. he's a runaway samurai and hella edgy. oetam bullies him. demir, too.

changelings can impersonate people they've already seen, so maybe yoru uses paintings of his ancestors to decide on his identity. he has the mask still, too! he uses it when he's on his rogue shit.

thanks for reading! would love to hear what you guys think about these!

twitter | tiktok | archiveofourown

[naffeclipse]

If I recall u mentioned in one drabble that sun used his venom to help y/n. But what if an Eclipse used theirs to control or capture y/n?.

Oh, baby, that's a dangerous combo!

DE naga Eclipse has a paralytic venom called myotoxic which results in severe and instant muscular paralysis. If he bit you, you would become paralyzed but remain conscious. He could take you without a struggle but Eclipse wants you to be obedient to his whims, so he would use this only as a last resort—if you really needed to be taught your lesson (or he wanted to smuggle you away quickly and quietly).

Blackwater Lure Eclipse has no venom but he does possess a hypnotic gaze. He uses his magic when he pleases to calm you down or draw you a little closer. He can control you with his hypnotic gaze, but he's usually content to be with you—no charming suggestions required.

Cryptid Sightings naga Eclipse can sense your heartbeat when he flicks the air with his tongue, and he can especially sense it when you're in his coils for cuddles or taking a break from your work. It's a way for him to measure your fright levels and adjust accordingly. He can seek you out using this sense, and he will often see if you're safe or if you want to spend some time with him.

SJ naga Eclipse and Bounty Hunter naga Eclipse both have venom that would kill you if they bit you. Hemotoxicity is painful and devasting as it causes massive internal bleeding. SJ naga Clip doesn't mind threatening you with his venom at his pleasure, promising that if you don't stop fighting him, he'll make you stop fighting period.

BH naga Eclipse is aware of his venom but doesn't threaten you with it. He tries to not bring his fangs too close to you but he still feels that urge to bite and catch you, so you will catch a glimpse of venom filling his mouth, but he turns away to spit out just before getting too close to you.

[hugemilkshake]

Broooo your insect cookies are SOOOO CUTE AND AWESOME!!!

Can I ask for Y/N x all of them (preferably romantic [poly if that’s allowed], but if platonic is better that’s fine-) and Y/N just cannot stop praising them and looking at their features? Just Y/N admiring them and cooing them like I, ME a person would to other insects.

(I must know more about them. I’m obsessed with them and I’m not ashamed to admit this-)

Enjoy the milkshake! I am excluding three cookies from the main group, these cookies are blushing snail bc they aren’t interested in romance and cinnamon spider and minty snail because they don’t live in the same area-

Bug pile!

-romantic for everyone except Blushing Snail-

Pink Mantis, Emperor Caterpillar, Peach Novius & Leaf Sheep Slug

This batch of cookies are very… interesting

Now they are nice and affectionate but very different from one another

For example Pink Mantis is the most affectionate out of the bunch

The most common thing to do with them is to walk on the beach but it and always to send a letter to the cookie over on beast yeasts shores

And that causes problems because Pink Mantis never gets a response and they don’t understand that they won’t ever get a response

Emperor Caterpillar is vastly different from Pink Mantis

Emperor Caterpillar will get you anything and everything that you ask

But he will flaunt you around and that can be a little annoying

But Peach Novius is more reserved

Peach Novius will attempt to read you romantic poetry but will fail because she struggles to read

And it honestly quite cute because of how embarrassed she gets (don’t make fun of her she’s trying)

Now if you do show some discomfort with something the others did then she will advocate for you but is usually unheard due to her quiet nature

But Leaf Sheep Slug is less quiet than Peach Novius.

Leaf Sheep Slug might be rude and brash but is actually pretty chill when you get to know him

He is the one you can rant to for hours and not be interrupted

Cinnamon Spider

Now to be with this bounty hunter you have to be okay with him being gone for days on end

Now Cinnamon Spider doesn’t enjoy leaving but has too because of work

But when the two of you are together he is such a sweet and caring partner

Blankets, cuddles and some hot chocolate (or cold since it’s the dessert-) are musts haves

Now Cinnamon Spider can’t cook but he will do his best for you

Minty Snail

Minty Snail is a nerd. Need I say less?

Minty Snail will definitely get you anything you need for your hobby

Now they aren’t very cuddly but they are very sweet and thoughtful when it comes to gifts

But he will cry if you give him a gift

Blushing Snail (platonic)

Blushing Snail is a very good friend

Might be clumsy but they are doing their best

They know the best spots to chill at

And they are actually very talkative even though they look very shy

Now Blushing Snail is quite adventurous and curious, wanting to actually travel into beast yeast and see where all of Pink Mantis’s letters actually go to

You have to convince them to not do that.

But the one common thing among theses cookies that that you make sure to tell them that they are beautiful because they dont necessarily look like other cookies

[windrsr]

Hi!! Is it ok if I order a fluffy to angst?? like, s/o is so fragile that one touch could almost kill him, so the darling tries to spend the last few seconds of his life just trying to make others happy. but the thing is the darling is slowly dying, and just wants the yanderes to be happy-

sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language (if possible use male reader)

Tw: Character death, Stockholm Syndrome, and reader gets sedated on Micheal's part.

(Male Yandere OCs x Male!Reader)

•Henry (Doll Maker) - He fulfills your wish by smiling and telling you, "oh, doll. You're everything I ever wished for." He kisses your forehead and is more gentle with you than usual for your last moments. When you finally lose the breath and slip away from the world, he wants to remember you by making you into the perfect doll.

•Micheal (Scientist) - "You were...an interesting experiment, pet. But unfortunately, your time is up..." That's probably the nicest thing hes ever said to you. He appreciates how you've been an excellent test subject, and how you were with him to the very end. But once he sees how your body is so weak and how you can barley stand someone's touch, he decides to put you to rest by permanently sedating you.

•Miru (Living Doll) - "D-does that mean that you have to go...? I don't want you to go, y/n!" He cries, but the last thing he wants is for you to remember him feeling bad. Instead, he wants you to remember him with a smile on his face for your final moments, which is what you wanted. The two of you do activities together, cuddle, and spend time together before finally slip away from this world.

•Ryan (Test Subject) - He can't protect you from this, and yet he still can't help but blame himself. He kisses your hand and says you always made him happy since day one. He tells you to not push yourself too hard to make him happy because you already do make him happy.

•Loki (Creature) - He can't smile because he doesn't have a mouth, but for your sake, he admits that he's happy with you, even when he doesn't show it. He doesn't feel anything about you dying, though. He knows he will be able to collect your soul and keep it forever after your passing, so you won't ever be apart.

•Aaron (Best Friend) - He would rather die with you than live without you. But he knows that's not what you wanted, so he puts that aside for your sake. You two go to places that you always wanted to go to, and take pictures so he can remember you when you pass away.

•Samuel (Fatherly) - He's beyond sad that you have to go, but he puts his emotions aside for your sake. He doesn't want you to remember him being in grief during your last moments. He puts on a soft smile, and promises that he will be with you for your last momets, how grateful he is to have someone like you. He coos sweet nothings when you would wince in pain, telling you that it will all be over soon, and you will be able to (permanently) rest soon.

•Tyler (Bounty Hunter) - He perfers to just kill you off to end your suffering, and he can't stand to see you like this. All he wants is to put you out of your misery. But he says to you that you always made him happy, and that you don't need to do anything else. He holds you close to his chest for your last moments.

[nerdieforpedro]

Hey Nerdie!! Doing some Pedro Scout duties this weekend and I wanna know:

which Pedro Boy is your favorite to write/read for?

Have a great weekend!

xoxo

Me at how long this ask took, not only because I’ve been busy but also because this is such a complex question! 😭😭😭 Well for me anyway. Most people can give a simple answer 😆 Not Nerdie.

As far as reading for Pedro boys, I enjoy reading about all the Pedro boys, except Maxwell Lord. He gives me the ick. Everyone else I'll read in droves. I will say.... and don't tell the others, I may have three that I both enjoy reading and writing about:

Dieter Bravo - The crazy little trash panda who may indulge in drugs, booze, and mindless sex from times to times. Also has lots of crocs and robes. Because he's into so many things and people you can write him however you like. Weird? Sure!, Wild, of course!, Sad, yes! Artsy! Of course! All sorts of things. Dieter can be all the things you want and might need, he wants to be everywhere and no where at the same time. Confusing? Yes, but Dieter's a mystery that's a hell of a fun time to try and solve. 🤗

Din Djarin - The Mandalorian in all his Beskar clad glory. Stoic, yet his compassion runs deep, Din is perfect for those who want a soft touch or not. No kink shaming here - I myself may have written about that cool beskar against the skin. But Din is also a loving father and loyal friend which are wonder themes to be explored. He also is just a badass bounty hunter rolling around the galaxy earning credits. Many things. Many things for the lovely Din. 🥹

Frankie Morales - The most grounded in reality, a veteran just trying to make it work in both in life and over the fucking Andes! A pilot with a heart of gold, a filthy mouth that does wonderful things and gives us so, so so much to work with and curls that have your fingers wanting to twirl. He might be a bit too easily talked into things, but that's fine. Most of our fics (or mine) may have Frankie talking the reader into things or vice versa but don't be fooled. Our pilot can sweet us but also be stern and have a firm hand, just because. Sometime's Frankie may have an issue with drugs, other times he's a single father. @avastrasposts has a cowboy Frankie and I for one would like to see some chaps on the man. 👀

Special mentions:

A. Marcus Pike - The first Pedro character I wrote for. He is soft, not quite as soft as Dieter or one other character to be mentioned. But he loves food, music, basketball and love. So sweet, also looks great in flannel and jeans with his gun. Also the leather jacket. 🖤

B. Javier Peña - He grew on me. I wasn't always a huge Peña fan, but now that I've been writing him again, all he wanted to love on a special someone. And to fight crime, but we saw all that in Narcos. I enjoy Javi P smut, but even more than that, I like the soft Javi different writers give us like @javierpena-inatacvest and @undercoverpena The man's seen a lot of death, violence and darkness. Let him cuddle a bit after a stiff drink or with something else stiff. 😆 (Nerdie is horrible for that joke)

C. Javier Gutierrez - Tied with Dieter for the softest Pedro boy (in my opinion) but with a bit of a temper. Javi G is a teddy bear, cuddler, movie marathons, vacations and maybe secret room vibes. What's in that room is up to you. But those golden waves will forever say summer, warm vibes and an excellent shirt collection. Also random massages - I dunno why but I just see it (for all readers). Javi G will rub sunscreen, oil or whatever else you want him to on you. Just ask nicely or not, maybe he's into it in your fic. Other times Javi might be telling you what to do because he's got the money honey. Don't look a golden bear in his mustache too close unless you're gonna work hard for that marmalade. (I will not apologize to Javi G for the Paddington references. I enjoyed myself too much 🍯 He would want me to smile to stay bonita.)

D. Pero Tovar - He's grumpy, filthy, sore, hungry, looking at his friend William like he's insane because he is and just wants to get paid so he can get the hell out of here. Pero is an entire mood. Does all of it apply? No, mainly because we're not in the 11th century and thankfully I'm not friends with ponytail clad William. Pero in his time or ours, usually is still pretty grumpy, sometimes downgraded to annoyed or surly, but usually a man of few words and a scar over his left eye. It's fun to have him annoyed and have him maybe annoy people with his gruff personality. He makes me giggle.

Thank you so much for this ask and sorry again that it's late. I had a lot to say about each main man and the side ones. But they're not really on the side, more like side by side? Anyway,

Love Nerdie 💖

[beanibon]

Could you write headcanons about Vash dating someone who also has a bounty on their head? Not from anything like murder or thievery, but a sizable group that holds a personal vendetta against them. Hope this isn't too vague. Thanks.

I think I do, kinda as if they wronged someone and they put a hit/bounty on them? (At least that my understanding)

TW: not any really, do let me know if I need to add any

Vash didn't really know the extent of your bounty the first time he met you, nor did he ask as it wasn't his business to. But since you've started dating you were a little more open about it, explaining how you've somehow ended up wronging an old gang your family was apart of.

Vash was super understanding, vowing he'd protect you if anyone dared to harm you. In a non-violent way of course, which you'd be lying if that didn't worry you.

You respected Vash's code of no killing, but you weren't much of a fighter yourself, so you still embarrassingly needed to heavily rely on him for protection.

After a particularly nasty incident regarding a few bounty hunters, you begged Vash to teach you how to shoot a gun. He reluctantly agreed, only after hissing in pain of pulling another bullet from his shoulder.

It took you a while to gain enough confidence to shoot a gun, even after weeks of Vash teaching you. Something about shooting others, even for survival felt wrong.

Since the both of you have bounty's on your heads, it makes it hard to have intimate moments. Hotels could be hard to book, meaning snuggled together in a single sleeping bag, which neither of you minded, but I bed would've been more ideal.

Vash, who is extremely touch-starved, always wants to have you close. Especially if you two barely escaped being shot full of bullets, he'd want to hold you close, nuzzle into you, fill his senses with you. It reassures him that you're still there, still alive and with him.

The one major issue with being constantly on the run, is there'll always be trouble lurking around every corner. A shoot out waiting to happen the moment you two sneak into a town, someone will recognise either you or Vash, or both.

You've been injured a few times, only by a blade though, as you're wanted alive. But there was one occasion where a bounty hunter got a little too trigger happy, resulting in a bullet burying itself deep in your thigh.

Vash spent that entire afternoon, doting on you in the hospital. He was worried sick the moment you screamed out, by your side in a heartbeat.

He pampered you. Just imagine all the donuts he'd buy you, if flowers grew on Gunsmoke you best believe the room would be full to the brim with a variety of them. He never left your side, apologising constantly for not keeping an eye on you.

You simply smiled, ruffling his hair as you kissed him, reassuring him that it wasn't his fault. He appreciated that, pushing you over a little so he could snuggle up next to you.

(Was scolded by the nurses the next morning).

Vash cares for you deeply, and will do anything to make sure you're safe and living life to its fullest. He loves you and you love him, if circumstances were different he was sure you'd both be happily together in an old cabin, cuddling on a sofa.

[jakey-beefed-it]

So as many of you may recall, I got a house in FFXIV earlier this week, and it's a lovely house on the beach and everything. I've been decorating it like a madman ever since, and it's almost entirely done, absent like three major items.

The theme of the place is that it's a residence and business both, where Varian operates "The Ironcrow Agency," selling his services as a bounty hunter for those who can't or won't go to the authorities. With Varian being a brown-skinned cowboy gaijin ruffian living in the residential district of Kugane, I made the house predominantly western (as in Eorzean/European) in design, and as Western (as in cowboy) as I could make it.

The orchestrion inside is always playing the daytime music from Shaaloani- some cowboy blues guitar sound.

Now I know not everyone is gonna give a shit, but hey, some of you might, so under a cut, I am gonna post pictures of it and do a lil tour.

First up you have the front gate, with lots of lovely trees, a streetlight, and stepping stones leading up to the stone and wood house.

There are also stepping stones leading to the shaded deck overlooking the beach

And one of the trees has a treehouse in it, which Varian absolutely would have built for the twins without stopping to think they're like, late teens even though they look like 13. They're baby. They're HIS babies.

Coming in the front door, you can immediately see the reception desk thing on the left, and the open plan living room and study (left to right).

The living room is pretty cozy, the only things it's lacking at this point are the behemoth trophy to be mounted on the wall and a bearskin rug to go in front of the fire

Beside that is the little study area/den, with a display cabinet full of plushes and toys that the twins are far too old for (but maybe they cuddle one or two of the plushes sometimes)

The kitchen and dining room are to the right as you enter. I still need an icebox for the kitchen (note the milk sitting out on the counter, going bad) but otherwise it's done.

Though not quite so far to the right as the little nook beside the stairs to the top floor, which has a little desk for any business that can get knocked out in a hurry. And fishing poles right by the door for when Varian wants to go fishin'.

Heading upstairs, the first thing you'd see are my portraits of all the available field Scions, adults to the left

and babies to the right

The first door on the left is the bathroom, complete with a nice hot tub and a phasmascape depicting the royal menagerie of Ala Mhigo, which is where Varian was born (though he was a refugee from the age of 8 and finished growing up in Ul'dah) (the door on the right leads to Varian's room)

Turning around, here's the sink, some towels, the toilet i cobbled together out of 3 different decorations, and the moogle bathmat/rug.

From the hallway, the second door on the left is Varian's room. In this picture you can see his desk, somewhat cluttered with: some private correspondence and/or sensitive documents squirreled away in his room a takeout bag because he can't be bothered to actually cook for just himself the burritos he took from said takeout bag and/or had as leftovers from a meal he DID make for his friends a mug of coffee a cigar (because they don't allow cigarettes but cigars are apparently fine)

Turning around you can see the lovely fireplace, wardrobe, artwork, and sad bachelor* laundry pile overflowing the basket

Directly across the hall from Varian's room is the 'guest' bedroom, with room to sleep up to two guests! The two guests he is always hoping for are the twins, of course, but theoretically if Thancred or Estinien or someone wanted to crash that's also fine as long as they don't touch Alphy's artwork

Heading down to the basement, you have the 'business' space, where Varian operates his 'bounty hunting' side hustle- the main impetus behind which is the corruption of law enforcement in... literally every city in any of the 3 continents of Aldenard, but specifically the Sekisegumi in Kugane where this house is. There's the desk and records and a little waiting area.

To the left of that are a pair of small jail cells- sometimes you want to bring someone in alive, and sometimes you just need a place to stuff someone for a night until they sober up and can be cut loose again.

Other adventurers/bounty hunters and contacts coming by pretty often could use a meal and a rest, and of course you've got to feed any guests or prisoners passing through, so there's a fair bit of food available.

And of course, no cowboy bounty hunter hideout is complete without a saloon, albeit a small one that shows off some of Varian's more impressive fishing catches. To the left there, behind the screens, is another door leading to a very very small room full of disguise stuff (all the 'mummer's' items from the fashion report boutique), a bunk bed that can sleep two, and two chests- one full of weapons and one full of cash. That's the little safehouse the Sekiseigumi absolutely does not know about. I'd post pictures of it, too, but it's so cramped that it's genuinely hard to get any decent pictures. And it's funnier this way tbh; 'no you can't see the secret hideout it's SECRET'.

Anyhow yeah, it's mostly done! I really enjoy this stupid little fake house for my stupid little made up video game hero and his stupid prominent NPC kids. I hope you found this amusing if you read the whole damn thing.

*Varian's not actually a bachelor in that he absolutely got together with Lyse over the course of Stormblood, but she's been largely offscreen and busy being a world leader since so he's functionally a bachelor because he probably doesn't see her very often and instead is on his lonesome. So yeah- ordering takeout instead of using his big lovely kitchen, letting the laundry slide for a week, and taking off for fishing trips when the house feels too big -he's living the sad parts of the bachelor life without any of the supposed 'fun' parts :V

[disastertriowriting]

Obikin Bingo Master Post

@obikin-events

Accidentally Cursed: Blood Cursed - In one universe, after being bitten by Echo, Anakin falls to the vampire side instead of joining Sidious. After Order 66, when on a mission with Obi-Wan, an injured Anakin is forced to confront his desire to turn his former master.

Babysitter AU: Revenge of the Tooka - In one universe, Anakin has a twin sister, Aniya. In one universe, the twins are freed from slavery and taken to become Jedi. In one universe, Qui-Gon trains Aniya while Obi-Wan trains Anakin.

Body Swap: Reversal of Time - It was an ordinary mission... until it wasn't. Anakin finds himself in a parallel universe where everything is the same... except everyone he knows are Sith. And in another time, in Anakin's time, a Sith-raised Anakin opens his eyes to a world of Jedi.

Bonfire: Until the Day I Die - "Don't try it!" Except Anakin doesn't listen to Obi-Wan's warning because he knows better. He knows that he'll make it. And he does, except the consequences are more than he can deal with. Is it truly victory if he's lost... what matters most, what always mattered most, even if he was too blind to see it?

Bounty Hunter AU: Scars Collected - In one universe, the Jedi manage to complete their coup before the worst of Order 66 can unfold. In one universe, the Council takes control of the clones and seizes control of the Republic. Put through a farce of a trial, Anakin is, of course, sentenced to be executed for the little that he did against the Jedi that night. But his family isn't ready to let him go.

Confused Identities: Emperor - Escaping Daiyu before the Inquisitor catches up, Obi-Wan is captured by a strange Sith on Mapuzo, who has something against him, for some inexplicable reason. But this is a Sith, so does he need a reason? Except then, Obi-Wan finds himself newly-crowned Emperor, with the Sith vowing to enforce his will on the galaxy. And why does something about the Sith seem so familiar

Cuddling: Disintegration - Anakin and Ahsoka are on Kaller with the 501st when the clones unexpectedly open fire on them with stunbolts. They escape, barely, and discover that, all across the galaxy, the clones turned on the Jedi and killed them. Now, a victorious Dooku is the new Emperor. It’s at the Temple that Anakin discovers a horrible truth. Obi-Wan has Fallen. And he has no idea why.

Cursed: Smoke and Debris - Shortly after Anakin's Knighting, a mission to Jabi'im goes badly, leaving Obi-Wan dead. Or so the Jedi think. Anakin, however, refuses to accept that his master is gone. He will find Obi-Wan and bring him home, no matter what it takes.

Domestic: Chains of Yesterday - Obi-Wan's never had personal experiences with slavery before, and it makes it hard to understand why Anakin acts the way he does sometimes. Or, the five times Obi-Wan tries to deal with Anakin's traumas from having been a slave, and the one time he actually starts to understand.

Falling Asleep On Their Lap: Tuk'ata Trouble - When on Daiyu to rescue Leia, Obi-Wan runs into a Sith hound, who seems strangely familiar. Which makes no sense because he's never seen one before. At first, he thinks the dog belongs to the Inquisitors, but now, it's determined to follow him and Leia around everywhere. He's beginning to think this may not be just a Tuk'ata.

FREE DAY: Breathing Ashes - Shot down on Ryloth by rebels, Vader and Sidious quickly discover a far more serious threat than the other insurgents: a Fallen Obi-Wan, determined to reclaim Vader as his apprentice, no matter what the cost. NOT VADERWAN

Fireworks: Fireworks - It's only been weeks since he became a Jedi, and Anakin is still struggling with the new environment and getting to know Obi-Wan. On the Coruscanti New Year, Anakin sees a fireworks display which sends him spiraling into a panic attack. It leads to a misunderstanding between him and Obi-Wan, but at least this once they have someone to help them communicate.

Gladiator AU: Eyes of the Dragon - Sold from one owner to the next after his dragon abilities are discovered, Anakin finally ends up with Obi-Wan as his... handler. Except, Obi-Wan isn't a slaver like all the others, and he's also far nicer. And Anakin can do little to free the young Togruta Jedi, Ahsoka, who was recently sold into slavery, no matter how hard he tries. The most he can do is help her survive.

Guardian Angel: Favorless - Found and raised by Sidious, Anakin is on Naboo when the Jedi find him. Given an offer to help the Jedi against a rising threat greater than both the Jedi and Sith, Anakin reluctantly accepts. He's left in Obi-Wan's custody, and the two have to move past their differences to work together. Except, more and more Anakin begins to question if being a Sith is what he truly wants.

Heartfelt Confessions: The Blood Awakens - Vader expected to lose the duel to Obi-Wan on Jabi'im, but he didn't quite expect Obi-Wan to jump and... bite him? Because apparently, his former master is now a vampire, and he has every intention of taking Vader with him as his new fledgling.

Interrupted Declaration of Love: This Ends Today - In which the Force gives a certain Jedi Master what he said he wanted, to see if he really liked it. OWK series AU; definitely not a fix it

Kidnapped: Nebulous - Being kidnapped by the Sith apprentice who killed Qui-Gon is the last thing Anakin expected to happen while on his first mission with his new Jedi master, Maul. Obi-Wan is... scary. And dark, which duh, he's a Sith. But Anakin is determined to escape him and find his way back to the Jedi, no matter the cost. It's never quite that easy.

Lying: What You Wanted To See - At the end of their duel on Mustafar, one moment Anakin had been certain Obi-Wan was able to leave him, but suddenly, he's acting like someone else entirely. Because apparently, he... time traveled, from after both their deaths. For Obi-Wan, the worst day of their lives was decades ago, but for Anakin it just happened, and it's not that easy to let go of it.

Pen Pal AU: Ben-Ekkreth-Chippie - Shortly after the formation of the Empire, Vader, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan all end up chatting on the holonet with each other, entirely unaware of their former identities. They didn't intend to become so close to each other, but it happens anyway. And then, their paths start leading back together again.

Pillow Fight: Attack of the Toxin - In one universe, Anakin has a twin sister, Aniya. In one universe, the twins are freed from slavery and taken to become Jedi. In one universe, Qui-Gon trains Aniya while Obi-Wan trains Anakin.

Rescue Mission: See the Moon - Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan are awakened one morning to a massive disturbance in the Force. They quickly discover the disturbance centers around Coruscant's moon, which suddenly appears to be not only alive, but it also has the ability to... possess people? And the only way to avoid that is to avoid looking at the moon at all, which becomes increasingly difficult.

Telepathy AU: My Own Way Home - Ten years after the Empire formed, Vader, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka start sharing dreams. They can find no way to stop it, but do they really want to? Especially not after Ahsoka realizes who Vader is after long thinking Anakin dead, Obi-Wan begins to accept that there may be more to Vader than the Sith he's become now, and Vader finally has the chance at being with his family again.

Set In A Different Time Period: The Land Which Bears Your Footprints - Found by Sidious, Rey is raised on Exegol as a Sith. While struggling with recurring dreams of her past life as Anakin, she's given her first mission - to infiltrate and destroy Luke's New Jedi Order.

Sleepy Confessions: Multiples - Obi-Wan in ROTS - Anakin and Obi-Wan have just landed aboard the Invisible Hand to rescue Chancellor Palpatine when suddenly, four other versions of Obi-Wan appear with them. One Obi-Wan is hard enough sometimes, but five? That is a whole other story. It doesn't help that they're not terribly fond of each other... or that the eldest are hiding things about the future.

Whump: Fading - After leaving Vader a second time, Obi-Wan is given, and takes, the chance to travel to the past to fix his mistakes. He hopes it will be easy. It's not. As the galaxy around him spirals out of control a second time, Obi-Wan captures a newly Fallen Darth Vader and runs away with him. Even if he can't save Anakin, at least he can stop Vader from terrorizing the galaxy again.

[voidsdamned]

Wicked Natures - The Ghoul/OC (Female Character) Chapter Sixteen

Summary: Bounty hunters are frequent customers at Mulholland's Saloon, and Rue's taken quite a shine to one gunslinger in particular: a cantankerous, old Ghoul in a tattered duster. Witness her unabashedly lust after him in all his irradiated glory (as we are all currently doing), as well as navigate the precarious relationship she unfortunately has with local law enforcement.

Minors, do not interact.

Content Warnings: the usual swearing and MORE sweetness because I needed to. A little plot.

Enjoy <3

Chapter Sixteen: Favourite Meal

Lethargic and fuzzy, Rue feels like she’s half made of cotton when she wakes. Her head is swimming, body far-off and warm with the growing realization that there's a spring trying to burrow into her hip. And something heavy is draped across her waist. Something sound at her back, breathing rhythmic and slow.

Rue’s heart jumps, body turning fast, and her eyes go wide around as a full moon when she finds the Ghoul is still there. It’s daylight, and he’s still here! In her bed. His arm around her waist. Snoozing away, all cute and handsome and here.

A high-pitched squeal of glee that doesn’t quite leave her throat sounds from Rue. Then come the giddy, little giggles she smothers with a hand hastily slapped over her mouth. She tells herself to calm down. She’ll ruin everything. If he wakes up, he’ll likely just shrug on all his gear and hit the road never really having intended to stay the night in the first place. It was only because she drained him dry of everything.

Rue giggles again, eyes ticking over the Ghoul’s chest and collar. The column of his throat. His jaw. Ooh, she can peer into his nasal cavity, too. And it’s just fleshy and weird in there. A dumb temptation to stick her fingers in briefly seizes her, but she stomps that down as her eyes pick up.

She finds his eyes half-lidded and a drowsy curve to his mouth. Sleepy and gruff, he asks, “Fuck are you gigglin’ about?”

“Nothin’,” Rue says, quieting giggles and wiggling her way closer to him. Her head goes to his chest, and he almost knocks her out with sweetness when that arm draped over her waist curls, squeezing tighter. “I’m just happy.” She presses her lips to his heart. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be quiet and real still. Swear.”

“Ya can’t be still,” he yawns, chest expanding and body relaxing as he exhales. “If you’re not movin’, you’re talkin’, and if you’re not yappin’, you’re wigglin’.”

“Nuh-uh.” Rue reminds him, “I made it three m-. No, no. I was talkin’ that whole time. Hm….” She shrugs helplessly in his arms. “I just got a lotta energy.”

The Ghoul laughs, the sound sleep-rough and delicious. “Don’t I know it. You about killed me....” He sighs. “Let’s see how long ya make it.”

Not long, but she does try. She tries to steady her breathing, slow it down. She tries to keep her body still. But her toes wiggle. Or her fingers tip-tap on the lovely chest she cuddles into. Then she hurriedly makes herself stop because he’s still trying to sleep –she thinks. She doesn’t know if he wanted more sleep or if he’s just watching her.

She looks up at him. He looks down at her, a browless brow cocking.

“Can I make ya breakfast?”

His response is an amused, “Do whatcha want,” as his arm retracts and he turns.

Rue rights herself, leans over to kiss his cheek, and pulls herself out of bed to go freshen up and grab a dose of RadAway from the mirror cabinet for later.

She doesn't do much in the way of dressing after, simply shrugging on boxers and an undershirt because every time she’s tried to cook bacon in the buff, grease has popped her tits. And she’s cooking bacon. She has a special guest, and she’s… she looks in her fridge and kitchenette. Well, she wanted to make something fancy, but she has less than she thought. A few slices of bacon. She has five eggs, and she has to use some of them for Eggshells. Half a loaf of bread. Cheese. Ooh. Enough milk for her coffee! And she has enough of that for him to have some if he likes coffee.

She can make him a bacon, egg, and cheese on toast. That’s plenty fancy.

Rue sets to her most important task, getting the bacon crispy but not too crispy. Reminding herself to hush whenever she finds herself humming. Biting back a swear when grease pops her on the arm. But she must disturb him despite her trying so hard not to, as she sees him slipping into the bathroom from the corner of her eye. When he slips out, he doesn’t return to the bed. No, Rue feels him come up behind her, and she could swoon when his arms encircle her. When his chin comes to rest on her shoulder.

She giggles instead, smiling so much her face hurts. She asks him how he likes his eggs fried.

“Little runny,” he answers, brushing back her curls to place his lips to her neck for a slow kiss. Warm. Teeth grazing the barest amount.

Rue goes weak in the knees, her concentration to hell. She tries to turn around and kiss him, but he holds her in place with a teasing laugh and tells her to, “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’.”

Impossible. How can she concentrate on something as boring as frying eggs when he’s loving on her shoulders and neck? When his warmth wants to draw her in, devour her? When his arms around her tighten? When those talented hands slip beneath the hem of her shirt, fingers trailing against her skin? When one slips beneath the band of her boxers to smooth over her hips? 

The eggs are done. They have to be. Rue’s going out of her mind, trembling. Making small, pitiful noises. Shaky hands turn off the burner, leaving the rest of breakfast for later. She turns into the Ghoul, and he lets her this time. Lets her wrap him up in her arms and kiss him where she can until his mouth meets hers.

“Forget breakfast,” she pants against his mouth, fluttery hands briefly travelling to her boxers to push them over her hips. They fall to the floor, and she shimmies her undershirt off quick as she can. “I just want you.”

And he just manages to catch her when she jumps up to lock her legs around his waist. He grunts, laughing at her as his arms find new purchase. As his fingers press into the softness of her, making her eyes spin. “Always starvin’ for me….”

“Think I told ya ‘fore you’re my favourite meal,” and Rue follows up the fact with a roll of her hips and hungry frenching. “Nothin’ else tastes as good.” Another roll of her hips, foiled by the trousers she doesn’t know why he bothered to put on when he was going to rile her up. “Sugar. Sweetheart. Darlin’. Why ya got those on?”

The Ghoul groans softly into her mouth, the sound pooling between her legs with a melty sharpness. “Hold on, hold on.” He fiddles with his trousers, pulling them down so that his girth presses, rubs, and teases. “That better?”

It’s better and worse, but she nods, wrapping ever tighter around him as she moves against his length. “Yessir.”

She kisses up his neck, drowning in his swears and the feel of him. Barely aware he’s turned and walked them to the kitchen table where he tries to set her down. Tries, being the keyword. She doesn’t want to loosen her hold on him. She refuses to.

“Ya gotta let go, pumpkin,” he insists, breathy chuckles fanning against her as his lips press to her hair. “I got somethin’ in mind you gotta be set down for.”

Reluctantly, and with all the smooches and touches she can squeeze in, Rue untangles herself and allows him to put her down. She sits as still as she can manage as he pulls back, looking up at him wide-eyed and smiling when he drops his hat on her head.

The Ghoul winks, and Rue’s soul ascends. “Hold onto that for a second for me.”

“I feel so special,” her voice is hushed, disbelieving, as her fingers trace the brim of the hat before trailing down the ruination of his chest. She shoots him a beseeching look. “Can I have one more kiss?”

“Hard to say no when you got them big, ol’ eyes on me.” His head dips, lips meeting hers again. Kissing long and slow. Lingering and… everything. It feels like everything.

But their lips part, only for his to trail down her throat. Down her chest and stomach, pressing kisses here and there –knuckles dragging– before he goes to his knees. Rue’s breath hitches, goes shallow and out of her when his masterful hands grip firm the plushness of her thighs. Squeezing. Kissing. He pulls her closer to him, to where she can feel his breath hot on the sensitivity between her legs.

The press of his tongue is purposeful, a leisurely drag as his eyes lock with hers. All heat and devilishness.

Something breaks in Rue’s brain, a spring popping loose. Confetti bursting from the back of her head. And though she tries so hard to hold his gaze, her head falls back and a stream of swears pass through her lips in a rush. Her chest flutters with rapid breath, legs tensing. Every muscle tensing. It’s hot. Wet. Slick and pressured. Rue’s hands curl around the table’s edge, nails biting into the old wood. For just a moment, she wonders if the wobbly thing can support this kind of activity, but the thought is shattered and scattered with another slow, overwhelmingly luscious drag of his tongue.

Rue has no idea what she says, but she feels his dark chuckle. It soaks into her skin, into the pit of her. Goosebumps prick their way across her skin, and her cunt drips.

“You been wantin’ this, huh?” he asks, fingers coming into play.

Rue sees all the colours of a fabled rainbow when he presses her buttons, when his tongue slips in and sweeps. Laps. Gently fucks.

“Ya did... -yes. Ya did this… this sly, lil’ smile.” Rue can’t concentrate for the life of her, all her thoughts are swimming. “Sweet, ya d-do that better than I dreamed….” A thought comes drifting back by; she seizes it. “But the smile. W-When ya cut that man’s… man’s head off at my feet -mmmm- and told me to clean it up, ya had this d-devil’s quirk to it. And all… all I wanted was to see that… see it… see… sweet fuck. Fuckin’ see it from between my legs, f-feel it on my thighs.”

He laughs against her thigh, nipping. “That’s how I got you?”

Rue nods in earnest, smile blissed-out and soft. Eyes barely parted. “Y-You have the… the prettiest smile. The prettiest eyes. …I’m a sap for ‘em. And the way your voice sounds. The first time I gotcha to tell me a story –and it was ‘bout horses of all things– I had to go splash my face with water to calm the fuck down.”

Another rumbling chuckle against her thigh, a kiss and a honey-eyed look that drips slow and hot through her veins. Rue gives an undignified squeak when he pushes two fingers into her and flicks his tongue across her clit. He pulls away just barely to tell her, “Ya aggravated me for the longest.”

Rue snorts. “I figured that.”

“You still do.”

“I figured that.”

“But ya got to the point where I found ya just a little endearin’.” Another flick of the tongue. A drag and press. Rue’s spinning mind barely catches his sly admission, “And maybe half the reason I came into Mulholland’s wasn’t just ‘cause it’s the only decent waterin’ hole for miles but that I knew you’d be there, grinnin’ goofy at me.”

Oh, that’s pure romance to Rue. It makes her chest all warm and sticky –as well as her immensely smug. “I knew ya liked me.”

“A little.”

And he won’t let her say more, tease or rub it in. His tongue steals her breath and voice with the way it works, with the way his voice coaxes her closer. What a good girl she is. How sweet the taste of her. He’s gonna fuck her jelly-legged as soon as she gives him what he’s after.

Drunk, Rue slurs out a, “B-But I gotta take care of ya.”

“Ya did that all last night, sweetheart. It’s my turn.” And the way he grins as he says it, the feel of the curve to his lips against her clit as he kisses. Sucks. Drags.

Rue, so shaky, goes to her elbows, body wound tight before snapping. A rush goes through her that starts in her fuzzy head and whirls around in her stomach before dripping out her toes. She can’t see anything but sparks for a moment. She can feel them, like they’re on her skin and in her veins. Between her legs as the Ghoul continues to torture her in the most beautiful way before he’s kissing at her thighs –up them. Then he’s at her mouth, stealing away what little breath she’s managed to hold onto.

“You’re magic,” she mumbles against his lips, the taste of herself on her tongue. It works her up all over again, so do the arms that wrap around her middle, drawing her near. To where she can feel his hardened cock between slick, tingling thighs. Teasing her entrance and sending shivers.

“You got a bit of that yourself.”

He pushes in, in increments. Unhurried but steady, devouring every panting, desperate, mewling sound that she makes. His strokes are just as lazy, dragging slow. Bottoming out in the pit of her with such exquisite, breath-stealing friction. She clings tight to his ragged, tough frame, gasping and sense all over the place. She doesn’t know that she has words for how good that feels. Just whimpers and breathlessness as her nails bite into his shoulder blades.

A hand slips up between them, tipping her chin up with a smug chuckle. His thumb presses at her lower lip, dragging. He kisses her deep as he reclaims his hat and guides her onto her back, fucking steadily all the while. Rue follows his direction, lying flat and trying to keep him close even as he tries to pull back.

“I’ll tie those hands, darlin’,” the threat is teasing, mild. Spoken breathy and fond. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“I just like the way ya feel so much.” She sounds so desperate to her own ears it’s pathetic. But she releases him, allowing him to make the moves he desires.

She is immediately rewarded, relishing in the way he palms and grasps her thighs. He grips them tight, dragging her forward and earning himself a sharp cry of pure pleasure. He hefts her legs, hooking them over his shoulders. Shifting. Sinking. Touching something new.

Rue ceases to exist for a few seconds, whatever scrap of awareness left in her head breathing out a dazed, syrupy, “Oh my god.”

“Ya like that?” the Ghoul asks, smile wolfish and knowing. His hips grinding.

It takes Rue forever to get out nearly sobbed, “Sweet, I really, really do.” And she really should just call him Lightning with the way his strokes strike so deep within her, so sharp and electric and too much. But she likes the sparks of pain, the way they morph into unadulterated heat and pleasure. She can’t find words anymore. She doesn’t know what to do with herself other than try to hold his gaze half-lidded as he brings her to shouts and senseless pleas.

“I could listen to ya cry for me all day,” the Ghoul professes roughly, wrecked mouth dragging against the inside of her thigh as his fingers dig in where they grip tight. He presses kisses. Nibbles. Lavishes. “All night. ‘Til you’ve gone hoarse and your legs don’t work. I wantcha to feel me even when I’m not bottomed-out in you.”

That winds Rue up tight, cunt squeezing and drawing even more filth out of his mouth. She loves every word. Every thrust that robs her of breath and thought. All those kisses and bites that’ll bruise up her thighs. The unwavering heat and focus in his whiskey eyes, searing into her. Beholding. Worshipping.

The second orgasm hits shaky and loud, gripping every muscle in her body. Tight. Tensing. Undone. An exhaustive release washes through her in waves, drawing the sweetest, roughest of moans from her cowboy. So many swears and desperate, grasping squeezes. His rutting goes sloppy. His grip on her slips, and her legs come down from his shoulders as he bends over her, kissing her. Filling her with electric warmth with languid, lingering thrusts.

The Ghoul’s mouth drags down her face as he tries to prop himself back up, but he can’t quite swing it. His mouth ends up to her right breast, breath tickling at her skin when he pants out a ragged, “Ya gotta warn me, Rue. You take everything outta me when ya do that.”

“Mmmmmm.” Rue barely hears him. She’s liquid, bubbles and fuzz, head lolling to the side as her legs try and fail to squeeze around the magnificent creature between them. She can’t use the damn things right now. But her arms still work, and her fingers find the back of his neck, scratching and rubbing before trailing on his upper spine.

The Ghoul shivers. He buries his face into her breasts, muffling whatever he says.

Rue hums curiously, satisfied to her core. “Pardon?”

“Nothin’,” the Ghoul insists, dragging himself back up. Pulling himself from her. His grin is lazy, tugging at the left corner of his mouth as mellow, whiskey eyes tick all over her -between the thighs he idly rubs. “Need a picture of that….”

Rue likes the idea of sexy photos. She waggles her brows. “I’ll start lookin’ for us an old camera.”

He laughs. “Gotta love how ya take what I say and run with it.”

Smiling, she extends a hand to him, wiggling her fingers until he takes it and pulls her upright. She thumps against his chest and rests there all snug for a minute, basking in his presence. The glow.

“How do ya take your coffee?” she asks, shivering as he continues to pet away at whatever bit of her looks most appealing.

“Black.” The Ghoul’s fingers trail up and down her spine. “But how about you tell me how ya take yours and I’ll take over.” He pulls away, reaching towards the kitchenette and coming back with the RadAway she’d left sitting on the counter. “And we’ll get you taken care of.”

“Black most of the time.” She kisses his collar, deciding she won’t fight him on that. “But I got milk and sugar this mornin’. So, two big spoonfuls of sugar and three Mississippi’s worth of a milk pour.”

“Easy.” And he ends up carrying her jelly-legged self to the couch, fetching a towel for them both, and then being so goddamn, syrupy-golden sweet to her by finding a good vein in her arm for the I.V. drip and hanging up the RadAway from a nail stuck in the wall above the couch for just this purpose.

The afternoon is all honey from there. They eat breakfast together on the couch, her legs over his lap and RadAway drip-dripping into her veins. He tells her about the last bounty he was after: a brahmin thief with a pension for murdering ranch hands that caught him in the act. They played hide-and-seek for a few days amongst box canyons, and when the Ghoul finally cornered him, a deathclaw snatched the mark up and made a meal out of him. The most he could take back to the agency was a helluva story, but they took his word for it. Gave him a little bit of a payout.

Which somehow leads to him asking, “What happened up the hill? Been meaning to ask you about it since last night, but….” A hand drags up her legs slow. “Kept gettin’ distracted.”

Rue waggles her brows. “I had a lotta love I needed to give.”

The Ghoul’s mouth upticks into the handsomest of half-grins, but he reminds her of the question with a prompting, “Fire?”

She nods, biting back her desire to brag that it was her doing. “Yeah. Night ‘fore last.”

“They know who did it? Or was it an accident?”

Around a sip of her perfectly-prepared coffee she says, “Don’t think they’ve figured it out yet.”

They would have come knocking by this point if they thought she did it. Or maybe they’re waiting for Deck to get back to deal with her? She doesn’t think that’s the case, though –she doesn’t think there’s anything left to tie her to it. Some framework and metal bits are all that stand on that hill, and as far as she knows, everyone thinks she was lain up in a sickbed.

“I’d wager on Nightstalkers, but they’d have burned the whole town.”

Rue doesn’t want them taking the credit for her handiwork, but since she can’t quite lay claim to it yet…. She needs a change in topic. “It puttin’ you out not bein’ up there?”

The hand not loving on her rocks back and forth. “Just means I’ll have to use one of the other offices for a while.”

Rue perks. “Which is closest?”

“Yucca. It’s about a day and a half’s walk North from here.”

“Ooh, so there’s Dust, Ancho, and Yucca?”

“And Poppy and Derecho.”

“They all like Dust?”

“Dust is sleepy and quaint compared to the rest,” he answers, one hand smoothing up her thigh while the other pops his last bite of breakfast-for-dinner in his mouth. “But they’re all run the same. Sheriff’s got a big, ol’ house full of boys playin’ with guns that watch things while he’s away. They all pay out for the bounties he’s issued.”

“Have you….” Rue pauses for a moment. She doesn’t actually want to touch on anything more serious, but she wants to know. She needs to. “Have you seen a bounty out on a Lara?”

His thumb rubs circles on her right thigh as his head falls back on the couch, and he’s thoughtful and quiet until he gives an uncertain, “Maybe on the board back in Poppy?” Then his head turns her way, eyes curiously fixing on her face. “Friend of yours?”

Rue dips her head slightly, eyes turning to look at the RadAway drip. It’s about out. She sets her coffee cup aside and goes for a bandage, but the Ghoul beats her to it, taking care of her again.

He asks, “What did she do?” as he removes the I.V. and quickly bandages.

“Nothin’. Deck’s just… insane.”

There’s not much to his face when he says, “For you to be his sweet, little bird, ya sure don’t seem to like him much.”

A darling smile takes Rue’s face, covering up the sourness she feels at the pet name. Cutesy and matter-of-fact, she informs, “I’m no one’s sweet, lil’ anything –unless I’m your sweet, lil’ maniac.”

Soft and amused, the Ghoul hums. “Is that right?”

“I ain’t proved that to you yet?” she poses in turn, hand lifting to brush a thumb along his pitted, scarred cheekbone.

His chuckle resonates through Rue, all rumbly like thunder; and he’s smooth about sliding onto the couch next to her, taking her straight away into his arms to kiss slow and dreamy. “I think I need a bit more convincin’.”

[goldenteaset]

I need to see what you write for selshippy Vash and #1, end of a hard day -From YOU'LL NEVER GUESS

>:D I CAN'T IMAGINE WHO IT MIGHT BEEEE, but anyway, thank you!

My form of yumejoshi/selfshipping is through projecting onto OCs, so Vash's catgirl girlfriend here is named Rose. She's augmented--because if the out-there designs of the bounty hunters can exist, so can she--and she bakes at a cat cafe in one of the small towns. =v= (The OCs with one exception are all named after tea herbs, because punny.)

Anyway, prompt answer under the cut! :D

"Today sucked," Vash groaned⏤whined, really⏤as he shuffled into Rose's bedroom, dead on his feet. "People didn't listen to me, I got knocked into a table, and the Tomas jerky wound up too hard to cut again! I hope you had a better time...Rose...?"

He blinked at the scene in front of him. That was definitely Rose curled up under the blankets, he could see her fluffy tail flicking back and forth from here. But why wasn't she answering?

Trying not to think of the worst-case scenarios, he tiptoed over to the bed, calling out softly "Rose? Hey, honey, are you okay?"

Rose lifted the blankets a bit, revealing her red-rimmed eyes and blotchy face. And her cat ears, which were lowered almost to the top of her head. "I don't know," she said, her green eyes still misty with tears. "Can...can you hug me, please?"

"On the double, ma'am," Vash replied, saluting smartly and slipping into bed after her. He was soon cocooned in warmth, both from her and the blankets. "So what's wrong⏤trouble at the cafe again?" He hoped the cats were okay.

"A bit," Rose said, snuggling into his chest. "Everything I baked today turned out awful. Too salty or burned or...I couldn't possibly give our customers messes like that." She grumbled under her breath some more. "So I wasted ingredients for nothing!"

"Was it a waste, though?" Vash rubbed her back soothingly. "You learned a lot, just by trying."

Rose managed a small, mischievous smile. "Like cutting the jerky?"

"...Well, maybe a little. I still say it was just being stubborn."

She finally laughed, thank goodness. "Vash?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad your troubles were small, today." Her words were unexpectedly solemn. "Usually, um...you don't tell me about what you're going through. I like being your," she faltered a bit, blushing, "d-'desert rose', but sometimes I'd like to know why you need me so much."

Uh-oh, turn up the charm, quick! "Well obviously it's 'cause you're my favorite catgirl in Gunsmoke," he chirped, tapping her nose. "Most places aren't lucky enough to have someone like you."

She scrunched up her nose in embarrassment and turned away, laughing. "Y-Yes they do, I wouldn't have thought of it if⏤eek!"

"You dare miss the point of Vash the Stampede?!" he pressed on grandiosely, switching from cuddles to tickles. "You'll pay for this!"

"Oh no," she pretended to swoon⏤or maybe it was for real? "The scary outlaw caught me!" And then she dissolved into giggles and frantic crawling toward the other end of the bed, which ensured he had to gently tug her back, growling into her neck. And then...

After a few rounds of aggressive tickles and cuddling (and getting swatted by Rose's tail), he forgot he'd even had a bad day in the first place. And judging by Rose's contented purring against his chest, she did too.

Next time, I gotta be more careful, though. She almost got too close...

[castiel-barnes]

Rest.

Pairing: Din Djarin × Jedi! Reader

Summary: You and Din take a rest from all the destruction and chaos of being hunted by bounty hunters.

Warnings: Nothing but softness. A few mentions of scars. Helmetless Din.

Wordcount: 729

Previous chapter || Masterlist

A/N: Again I know I've not been posting, just please be patient.

Tags: @phoenixhalliwell @prideandpascal @wanderrghost @ginger-swag-rapunzel @farfromjustordinary

Din had finally managed to fix the engine and the heater to the Razor Crest. The three of you had been freezing for the night, and you were glad to be on the move again.

He was exhausted. And for the first time you could actually see it on his face. Not just in his body language.

As he walked back into the Crest to start it moving, you walked over to your big tough Mandalorian.

"Din. Why don't you try get some sleep?" You asked him softly,

"Cyar'ika I need to get us out of here, if we stay any longer..." He responded before you cut him off.

"Oh my handsome man, I am extremely capable of being able to fly this by myself." You told him cupping his cheek as they blushed bright red,

What you didn't expect was for Din to bury his head into your shoulder and pull you close to him.

"I just don't want to fall asleep without you." Came a muffled voice from your shoulder.

Something inside of you just warmed up. He was being vulnerable with you. You gently ran your fingers through his flattened curly hair and just stood there for a moment.

"Why don't you have a shower, and I'll get us into hyperspace then we'll cuddle okay?" You suggested.

There was a slight pause and you felt a nod from him. You smiled and kissed his cheek gently, sometimes you wondered how Din wore his helmet and how he hid his feelings for a long time.

You lifted the crest up off the planet, making sure to avoid any more damage and plotted a course for hopefully a quiet planet. Din didn't have a long shower, and returned to the bed sitting waiting for you.

Walking over to him, you stood Infront of him and stripped down the layers. He pulled you towards him and sat you down in his lap, his fingers dancing across the scars that scattered your body.

"We should rest Din." You suggested trying to avoid the thoughts of your scars,

"Okay." Din pulled you against his chest and laid down.

"Cyare. Your scars are beautiful. You are beautiful." Din whispered obviously sensing your discomfort,

"I don't know what beauty you see in them." You mumbled holding his hand still.

"They are stories of survival. Of your survival mesh'la. You are strong and beautiful, and the scars are apart of that. Even if you don't think so, I love them and I love you." Din explained kissing you gently, feeling his curls brush against you.

You closed your eyes, and felt the calm. This was one space that you felt safe. With Din. Relaxing against him, you let him run over the scars.

"I love you too Din." You whispered just enough for the two of you to hear. The scars on your arms and body were ones you didn't worry about much, but it was the one that blinded you in your eye that you struggled at the thought of.

Quickly falling asleep in the arms of your Mandalorian, you both rested peacefully for a while. Grogu was still wrapped up nice and warm. And you all made it off that damn ice planet intact. Something made you jump awake, wasn't sure if it was a dream or a general disturbance. But looking up at Din, you stared and appreciated how handsome he is.

"I can feel you staring cy'are." Din mumbled,

"Sorry." You responded a deep blush reddening your cheeks.

"Don't be, I'm happy you get to look at me without the helmet." Din spoke his voice still laced with sleep.

"If we ever get these bounties off us. Where do you want to go?" You asked quietly,

There was a moment of quiet, and to be honest you had thought Din had fallen asleep again.

"I want to go to a planet, one with a forest and a nice little cabin. And only taking jobs that are easy, that don't require being gone days at a time. What about you?" Din explained giving you a squeeze,

"I think that sounds nice." Was all you responded.

You wanted a nice home. Somewhere that you didn't have to keep moving spots all of the time. Somewhere to call home. Somewhere to rest. Possibly rest with Din.

Finally. You both fell back to sleep. The presence of each other. The comfort of Din not being clad in full armour.