#din djarin soulmate

[tanzthompson]

Well this is awesome!

Death and an Angel Masterpost

Death and an Angel (Din Djarin x Female Reader) Index

A fic about Din as Death who asks You, a Cupid, to help him find his soulmate. A mixture of Mandalorian canon and my own immortal AU. I hope you enjoy the journey 💖

Warnings are listed for each chapter when you click on link, but please note smut does not exist in this story at any point.

Photo credit: @yoursisanemptyhope​​​ 🥰

Part 1 - 1,100. Death requests your presence at a train station.

Part 2 - 1,000. Din describes his potential soulmate to you.

Part 3 - 1,500. Din and you discuss what it means to be Death and a Cupid.

Part 4 - 3,300. Din and you learn the universe is full of surprises.

Part 5 - 2,075. One of your bosses threatens to split you and Din apart.

Part 6 - 2,114. You open up about your past to Din.

Part 7 - 2,297. You experience a flashback before waking up in an unfamiliar home.

Part 8 - 2,002. You bond with Kuiil while waiting for Din’s return.

Part 9 - 2,976. A promise is made before you leave to face your superiors.

Part 10 - 3,978. Neither you nor Din handle your capture well.

Part 11 - 3,511. Still imprisoned, you send a message to Din.

Part 12 - 4,704. You struggle to figure out Gideon’s goal.

Part 13 - 5,958. Ahsoka takes Din on a journey through the past.

Part 14 - 6,139. Escaping Gideon’s lair is no easy task.

Part 14.5 - 3,701. Din faces off against Gideon. And his own darkness.

Part 15 - 3,430. Your soul connects with Din’s in an unexpected way.

Part 16 - 3,321. You challenge Gideon to a fight, determined to be the victor.

Part 17 - 2,604. In which there are two special reunions.

Part 18 - 2,957. You and Ahsoka discuss past, current, and future events.

Part 19 - 980. Endings are hard.

Part 20 - Epilogue.

Fanart For Series: #1,  #2, #3, #4, #5

My Edits: #1

[cobbssecondbelt]

Hey hi can we explain what exactly were they thinking when they designed this magnet

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

INEVITABLE

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: language, mild self loathing, mentions of the slave trade

word count: 3,679

Summary: It was like fate or destiny had planned from the beginning for you to be on the run from the law. With the words 'I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold’ adorning your rib cage you always wondered what was worse: Knowing you were bound to being wanted or realizing your soulmate was a cursed bounty hunter. You had a mission to finish and no bounty hunter, soulmate or not, was going to stop you.

a/n: The soulmate!AU won the poll (sort of, i know there's 8hrs left but i don't foresee the other competitors having an underdog moment here)! Happy 500/1000 followers celebration!! I'm thinking this will be less than 10 chapters, but it def will be more than the 3 I promised. B/c despite knowing I have no self control and learning from that I continue to make the same mistakes smh. Drabble ideas always turn into full length stories in my dumb head🤡 but I'm excited for this one.

01: UNSTOPPABLE FORCE MEETS IMMOVABLE OBJECT

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"a soulmate isn't someone who completes you. no, a soulmate is someone who inspires you to complete yourself. a soulmate is someone who loves you with so much conviction, and so much heart, that it is nearly impossible to doubt just how capable you are of becoming exactly who you have always wanted to be." ⏤ b.s.

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You weren’t sure what was worse: knowing for most of your life that you were destined for a life on the run, or knowing that the universe deemed your soulmate to be a bounty hunter. It was some cruel twist of fate, you supposed. The galaxy was bored and decided to entertain itself by creating the most ironic coupling of all time. Honestly, if you weren’t one half of the said coupling you’d probably find it funny.

The cantina you sat in was like any of the other thousand you had sat in before. Messy, loud, and filled with people you had no desire to speak to. This one was especially worse because it was situated in Cratertown on Jakku of all places. It was a scud cantina in a scud city on a scud planet. The only reason you were still here was because you were desperate⏤ desperately searching the entire galaxy for a person who may or may not exist. You just wished this mysterious figure hadn’t picked cantinas as their signature hideaway spot.

You tapped the table twice, and the server passed by to fill your drink once more. You shot them a grateful smile and thanked them. Despite having barely any credits left in your pocket, you’d have to leave the server a hefty tip. You’d been here hours now, and he had put up with you the entire time. With a grumble of annoyance, you pulled a crumpled paper out of your jacket’s inner pocket and began to scratch out the last cantina on this damned planet. Bad news, this was a bust. Good news, you’d never have to step foot on Jakku again. 

“I can bring you in warm,” A voice spoke from behind you, “or I can bring you in cold.”

There they were. The words imprinted on your left rib cage since you turned thirteen. 

If this wasn’t your twentieth time hearing it then you might be impressed.

You slowly turned in your chair, hands raised, and stood. Now, you faced the Trandoshan bounty hunter holding you at blaster point. He chuckled as if he had already won. You shook your head, feigning disappointment, “Would you really arrest your soulmate?”

The Trandoshan narrowed his eyes at you in confusion. “What?”

“Well,” You shrugged, “It’s bound to work and get me out of a mess one day.”

You kicked the chair forward causing it to slam into the bounty hunter’s legs. He stumbled, grunting in pain, and you grabbed his hand to twist the blaster in a direction that wasn’t your face. He tried to reach out to hit you with his other hand. Before he could land a blow, you tucked your boot under the chair and kicked it up so it slammed into the Trandoshan’s jaw. He fell back, the blaster coming loose in his hand so you could snatch it away, and then it was you holding him at blaster point. 

“First off, you bounty hunters need to get more creative with your opening line.” You said. The bounty hunter growled and began to sit up. “Second, I’ll give you only one opportunity to walk away with your life. It’s your choice⏤” He jumped up to lunge at you, and without blinking you fired his blaster into his chest three times. When his body lay on the cantina floor, twitching, you sighed and tossed the blaster to the ground. “You literally didn’t even let me finish my offer, you ass.”

You glanced around, dusting off your hands, and realized the entire cantina was staring at you. With an awkward chuckle, you raised a hand and offered a sheepish smile. “My bad. Sorry.”

Knowing it was past time for you to get the kriff out of here, you bent over and rifled through the Trandoshan’s jacket. You found the holopuck and rapidly blinking tracking fob⏤ tossing both into your pockets. Then you rose only to kneel down again and steal the man’s credits. You threw the entire bag of coins onto the table you were sitting at and waved at your server who stood behind the bar with wide eyes. It’s not like the bounty hunter needed them anymore.

Hopefully, you’d be done fighting bounty hunters for the night. As you stepped out into the chilly, desert night air you paused to scoop the tracking fob out. The holopuck you would keep to add to your growing collection, but the fob was better off destroyed. You slammed it into the side of the cantina and let the broken pieces fall into the sand.

Maybe the galaxy had actually done you a favor. You stopped believing in the magic of soulmates a long, long time ago. So fate choosing to make your supposed soulmate the worst kind of being who floated around the universe was the best deterrent you could think of.

Din Djarin wasn’t sure what was worse: knowing for most of his life that his soulmate was going to be a criminal of some kind, or knowing that it was going to be his job to bring you in. If he really thought about it, took the time to write out a pros and cons list, then he’d have to choose the former rather than the latter. Din didn’t like thinking about it for very long though because the thought that fate deemed him the kind of person only worthy of love from someone who had done something to make them deserving of a bounty was a bit depressing. For the longest time, Din liked to pretend that maybe it was all some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe you were an Empire bounty and the reason you were wanted was because you fought against some Imps. It wasn’t a solid theory because he had only picked up a bounty for the Empire once and it had been Grogu’s. Din didn’t plan on picking up an Empire bounty ever again⏤ not that they’d want him to considering his history with Moff Gideon and the absolute pain he’s caused them since finding Grogu. 

That didn’t leave Din with many better options.

For the longest time, Din had been nervous before a hunt. What if this was the time he ran into the person fate chose for him? After a while, he grew a bit numb to it. Hardened. The longer he worked as a bounty hunter the more okay he was with being on his own. The thought of having to care for a soulmate exhausted him. Din started to hope he’d find you just so he could be rid of the entire situation. After Grogu came into his life, he realized what a lonely existence he had backed himself into. Things changed then, but having a foundling⏤ having a clan⏤ was more than he had ever hoped for in life.

Now, Din just ignored the words carved into the skin overlying his left rib cage.

“Patu.” Grogu cooed from the satchel hanging from his shoulder. Din glanced down to see the little boy trying to wiggle out to reach for a stand where a merchant was grilling some kind of meat. Din chuckled and paused long enough to buy two sticks. Grogu chirped happily when he handed both to the boy, and then he kept on his way.

Nevarro had certainly improved since the shoot out with Moff Gideon ages ago, and according to Karga it was only supposed to get better. Speaking of, he finally spotted the man standing in a plaza where⏤ Din paused and tilted his head. Even Grogu stopped eating to stare up at the statue. IG-11 was coated in bronze and stood tall in the middle of the plaza like decor.

“Ih.” Grogu chirped.

“Huh.” Din added. This was a new addition to Nevarro.

“Mando!” Karga cheered and he turned to greet the man who was dressed in ornamental robes. Din smirked to himself. It was good to see the power hadn’t gone to Karga’s head. “Welcome!” When Karga was close enough he held an arm out and Din didn't hesitate to clap his arm in a shake for greeting. “What brings you here?” Din didn’t respond and just tilted his head. “Right. Of course. How about we… handle these matters inside?”

Din motioned for the man to lead the way then followed. The building Karga led him into was just as ornamental and fancy as the robes he wore. Din once again had to resist the urge to laugh under his breath. They went all the way up to what he was assuming was Karga’s office.

“This is nice.” Din nodded.

“It is, isn’t it?” Karga dropped into his desk chair with arms outstretched. Din stayed silent and Karga’s grin and arms both fell. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

 Din shook his head, glad to have his helmet covering his wide grin and keeping his tone dry, “Mocking the Magistrate of Nevarro is beneath me.”

“High Magistrate.”

“Mhmm.” Karga waved his simple response away and dug through a drawer to find a few holopucks.

Din nodded toward them. “So, is it normal for the High Magistrate to still dabble in guild work?”

Karga shuffled through them. “Only sometimes, and only for my favorite hunters.” 

“Well, in that case, I’ll take the one that pays the most.”

“You always do.” Karga picked one puck out of the masses and activated it. A woman’s picture appeared and Din’s first thought was that you were pretty⏤ beautiful even. The High Magistrate said your name and Din wondered if he had heard it before. Something about it felt… familiar? No, that wasn’t it. Din shook his head. It hardly mattered. “She’s a tricky one, I should warn you. Many hunters have tried and failed, Mando. She works in the slave trade.”

Din huffed. That was proof that a pretty face wasn’t everything. No amount of good looks could wash away the sins of someone dealing in flesh. If Din had to pick a flavor of quarry he hated the most, it would be this kind.

The sound of laughter followed you down the ship’s ramp as you trailed out with a smile. The Mon Calamari crew you had managed to hitch a ride with gave you a hearty farewell, and when your feet hit the landing pad you spun to point at them with a smile of your own.

“Thanks for the ride, you guys! Stay safe, and keep Horchobua away from the spotchka,” You teased the navigator of the ship’s crew, “He was one bad round of sabacc away from owing me his first born.”

Another rowdy laugh from the crew, and the captain called back, “Stay out of trouble!”

“I always try!” You replied. It just never seemed to work.

The stars had aligned and luck was in your favor when you left Jakku. Circumstances that had startled you as it was far from the norm in your case. You had been able to get a lift from Jakku to Bespin. The city in the clouds that the Mon Calamari crew had dropped you off on was gorgeous. Though maybe you were that much more impressed since you were coming from a shitty desert world that made Tatooine look clean.

You readjusted the small cross body bag you wore over your jacket. The triangular shaped bag held literally everything you owned. A spare set of clothes, a cloth bag filled with a dozen holopucks, a datapad that only held a simple map on it, some toiletries, and a small, silver jewelry box you couldn’t get open. Everything else you owned was on your person. A simple, worn down shirt and pants that had seen better days. A thick jacket that you were able to strip on and off based on the weather⏤ though you usually kept it on since the back and arms had some armored padding. Boots that were close to falling off your feet from use. A metal dagger strapped to your right thigh, and a weapon tucked away into a shoulder holster under your jacket that you never used. It was a simple existence, but you didn’t mind it. Growing up with absolutely nothing to call your own, this was actually an example of you thriving. 

Over the last seven months, you had gotten very good at sniffing out cantinas. It was a gift. Some people could sing, some could paint, you could be dropped off into any city in the galaxy and you’d be able to find a cantina in under half an hour. It was a bit of an old talent to claim, but you’d take what you could get. When you stepped into the cantina, eyes drifted to stare at you. Unbothered by the attention, you winked at the closet patron and pressed in further. 

At the bar, you claimed the attention of the Twi’lek working today and ordered a drink. While he poured it, you leaned forward. “I’m looking for someone. A man named Reaper.” 

The bartender set your drink in front of you. His eyes darted to your neck before darting back up to your eyes. He shook his head. “No.” You tossed the right amount of credits on the bar along with a small tip. Before you could walk away, the Twi’lek stopped you. “Hey, that it?”

Rather than cause a scene, you tossed a few more credits on the bar and wandered away while the Twi’lek muttered in his native tongue behind you. You dropped down at a table in the back of the room which would give you a clear view of the entire space. Absentmindedly, your hand lifted to brush against the band of solid gold wrapped around your neck. Anytime people saw it they assumed you had more credits than you actually did. That wasn’t even the part that bothered you most. What you hated was the fact that the attention it drew made it very hard for you to forget about it.

You took a large swig of your drink and then leaned back in your seat to wait. The information you had included three facts. The informant you needed to find was called 'Reaper' which you personally thought was obnoxious. He was hiding away in a cantina every day for the same amount of hours waiting for customers. And, he would only offer you the information you wanted in exchange for information of equal value. You had the right kind of tip to trade, now you just needed to find the bastard.

For the first couple of hours, you just sipped on your drinks and people watched. It was how you killed time while in these cantinas waiting for a person who might not ever come. Right now, the bartender was hitting on a human woman who had absolutely no desire to reciprocate the action. Two Rhodians sat at the table beside you gossiping about work. The back booth had a Wookie, who you initially was concerned would be after you, but a Trandoshan had joined them and their interaction had all their attention on one another. Most, if not all, the patrons of this cantina were of the upstanding citizenship kind. The exact opposite of Jakku. In fact, you were the only armed person in the room. 

It was during that third hour that a new face wandered into the room. Though, calling this stranger a new face seemed redundant considering the helmet he wore left him faceless. A thrill went down your spine at the sight of him. Wow. Mandalorian. You had met a man in Tatooine who wore Mandalorian armor, but he told you it didn’t belong to him so you assumed that didn’t count.

This man was covered head to toe in polished, silver beskar armor. Seeing the rare metal made you realize why it was valuable. A cloak, shredded and torn at it’s end, hung from around his neck and you clocked every weapon you saw. Blaster on his hip. Incendiary grenades on his belt. Rifle shells on the bandolier across his chest and around his right calf⏤ though you saw no rifle. Vambrace with no visible weapon, but you’d garner a guess it hid one. Floating in behind him was a circular egg shaped pram. It was closed and you wondered what kind of dangerous tool he hid away in there.

The darkened, t-shape visor scanned the room and you realized it stopped right on you. What were the chances this dangerous looking Mandalorian, who wore a pair of binders on his belt next to the grenades, wasn’t here for you? 

You hadn’t been the only one to stop and stare at this towering man, and eyes seemed to follow him as he slowly crossed the room. Honestly, you were a bit insulted. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle. Did he think so little of you as a quarry? You knew you had a reputation. You had killed and escaped enough hunters to earn one. Yet, this bounty hunter didn’t hesitate while walking through a crowded room to arrest you. The absolute gall of this shiny Mandalorian.

He stopped right in front of your table⏤ a silent statue. You shifted on the bar stool and sat forward so your back wasn’t pressed against the wooden backing and the balls of your feet were planted on the floor. Your hand lifted out to your glass, and the Mandalorian reached for his blaster at the same time. You raised an eyebrow in question while slowly bringing the drink to your lips. As much as this last drink had cost you, you weren’t about to let a drop go to waste. The Mandalorian continued to stand stiff as his hand rested on his still holstered blaster.

Then came the words.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” 

The Mandalorian’s hoarse voice drifted through a modulator and you felt the hairs at the back of your neck rise in response. It was silly what this man’s voice alone had done. A whisper at the back of your mind said this was different. This was not the same as every other encounter you had with those words. Your stomach churned nervously. Fear clawing its way up into your chest. Please, no. Maker, no, no. Not now. Don’t let this be the moment. 

“Would you really arrest your soulmate?” You replied, and you hated how the words came out hushed and quiet rather than confident and bold like you usually said them. The Mandalorian didn’t flinch. He didn’t do anything. The fear began to diminish and you let out a sigh of relief. Thank the Maker. He wasn’t your soulmate⏤ he was just an intimidating Mandalorian with a very attractive voice. You knew how to deal with that. Pasting a smirk on your lips, you shrugged. “You scared me for a second there, Mandalorian.”

You shoved the table forward, as hard as you could, while leaping up. It slammed into the man’s abdomen right below where his beskar chest plate provided protection. A grunt of pain left him as he doubled over, and you quickly grabbed the bar stool you sat on and swung it around to hit the Mandalorian. It made contact with his shoulder’s pauldron and helmet. The bar stool exploded into shards of wood⏤ losing it’s battle against the beskar⏤ but it succeeded in knocking the man to the ground. Without missing a beat, you sprinted for the door and then out into the night air. Based on that interaction, Mandalorians weren’t nearly as tough as the rumors stated, but, unlike him, you weren’t going to underestimate your opponent.

You didn’t slow your pace, slipping in and out of darkened alleys, and breathed a sigh of relief.

That had been close.

The pram floated closer, doors open, and Grogu leaned out to stare down at him in question, “Buir?”

Din laid on his back staring up at the ceiling in shock. ‘Would you really arrest your soulmate?’ Dank farrik. Shit. He let every single other curse word he knew ring through his mind and still it wasn’t enough. Soulmate. He found his soulmate. Din had a bad feeling the moment he stepped into the cantina and spotted you sitting at a table alone. The bounty puck didn’t do you justice, and Din had felt drawn in by your magnetic gaze. It only got worse when he got closer. He should’ve taken that as a hint and left⏤ called Karga from hyperspace and let the man know that he was turning down the bounty.

But, no. Din made the egregious mistake of speaking to you, and his punishment had been your timid response. Your voice was quiet, and it felt like a soft caress. An intimate whisper. In moments of weakness, he always wondered what those words would sound like, but he never imagined what fate actually gave him. Din had been starstruck. Face bright red in warmth yet frozen in disbelief as his mind reeled for an answer. 

You spoke once more, this time voice filled with confidence that matched the smirk you suddenly adorned, and before he could even register your words you were attacking him. If anybody Din knew had seen the fight⏤ if it could even be called that⏤ he’d have to hang up his armor and die in shame. It was embarrassing how easily you bested him with a table and bar stool, and if you hadn’t caught him so off guard it never would've happened. 

Grogu had hopped out of his pram and now stood on Din’s chest so his small, green hand could repeatedly pat his helmet in question. Technically, his son had seen that display, and for the first time he was glad Grogu wasn’t fluent in Basic.

“Yeah, ad’ika.” Din groaned. “I’m okay.”

He rolled to sit up and realized the entire room was still staring at him. Din rose stiffly and set Grogu back into his pram. Awkwardly, he gave the room a small wave and cleared his throat. “Sorry.” For good measure, he tossed a few credits on the table that had knocked the wind from him and made his leave. Din paused outside the cantina and opened his mouth to heave an annoyed sigh, a curse slipped out with it, “Dank farrik.”

Din Djarin had found his soulmate.

Well, fuck.

mando'a translations:

ad'ika: little one /// buir: parent (father)

taglist: @onceinamando @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @harriedandharassed @aheadfullofsteverogers @elfamosotoga @the-anchored-sailor-girl

(i've decided to start a separate list for this story b/c i just can't bring myself to post the AFS taglist in fear that someone on there doesn't want me spamming them with this story sorry i have anxiety lol)

[next chapter]

[foggysirens]

a lot of the time when i think about dinluke and the dynamic that makes their relationship so special i always end up coming back to the idea of reaching out and finally having someone reach back. a call and a response. because din and like are two characters who always have a lot to lose and do- they lose those they care about time and time again. they lose battles and loves and entire planets. they call for help only to make matters worse. the win just to be alone again. and from there- from these vastly different yet achingly similar places of grief and duty they find solace in their work and religions and in the solitary paths they clear for themselves. bittersweet but not awful. fulfilling but nothing deep and exciting and worthwhile like what they once had. because there is no use in building something when chances are it will be torn down again. but then something changes. they meet and it’s not love at first sight. it’s professional, stilted conversations tinged with more pain and misunderstandings still. it’s the slow growing comfort and companionship. it’s the sudden realization that the other half of their soul has been found. that when trouble strikes, when bloodshed and battle inevitably end up on their doorstep- there will be no loss, no more choices, no leaving afterwards without the promise of coming back. just the steadfast and sure understanding that din and luke are a team. they have each other. and it’s messy and they fight and they see the world in their own ways- but it’s done together. two hands finding one another in the dark. searching and finding. an anchor. home. they hold onto each other, time and space and distance aren’t things that matter. they don’t let go.

[backtothefanfiction]

IT’S COMING!!!!

To mark reaching 600 of you following me now, I’ve decided to come back to this and get it done and out there finally!!!

I Will Always Find You will be 7 interconnected short stories playing on the idea of reincarnation with some of the Pedro and Oscar boys. I was originally going to do this a few years ago with each “lifetime” being a full fleshed out story but I just could never dedicate the time to do it. Instead I’m going to try and do them like my late night one shots so the event of the story is the pinnacle of that lifetime and in a way I can reference the other things that would have happened so you can still have an idea of what the whole stories would have been.

I am going to write these out and then choose 1 week in November to post all the stories 1 per day, Monday to Sunday. Below you can find the full list of characters and story themes. Please put in writing on this post if you want to be tagged!

Monday- Oberyn’s story

Tuesday - Poe Dameron & Din Djarin (Western Au)

Wednesday - Agent Whisky (60s Secret Agent Au)

Thursday - Blue Jones (Part 2 of 60s Au)

Friday - Javier Peña

Saturday - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia & Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales

Sunday - Marcus Moreno

———————————————————————————

Once again, thank you so much for 600!!! You guys are amazing!!!!

[mccn-bcys]

thank you for the tag @spacecowboyhotch ❤️ rules: Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🤍

1. Just A Touch Of Your Hand

this fic is actually my first multi-part fic. it didn't start out meaning to be multi part but it is and I'm actually very proud of it. it's angst but also so fluffy and I love it.

2. First Date

my first javi peña fic. I love this one a lot actually. it took me literal months trying to get it just right. I adore nervous javi and I wanted to showcase him.

3. Final Arcade Token

I think this was my first moon knight fic. it's cute little marc fic, tiny bit of angst but super fluffy. it's super cute I love it so much

4. Hold My Hand

my first din djarin fic. I was nervous writing this one but it's actually pretty good! it's super cute, we see din being in love (as he should be)

5. Sensual Pleasure

this one was for a fic exchange with the girls in the marc's queens server. this one also took me a little while to write but finally the right idea struck me. I adore steven grant and he's so cute in this one.

no pressure tags: @luvpedropascal @marshmallow--3 @marc-spectorr @romanarose @leh2393 @bibli0thecary

[wxckedwxrld]

Imagines

• Harry Potter

• law & order: svu

• marvel

• narcos

• narnia

• peaky blinders

• riverdale

• 7ds

• Star Wars

• Stranger Things

• Supernatural

• celebrities

[starwars-rosesofrebels]

Pinterest is my go to go app and I have a whole board dedicated to Star Wars!

Scrolling down along I started seeing mood board aesthetics and it got me inspired to do three of my favourite highly underrated star wars character, Omera ✨

This one's my personal fav!

Then we have one that's based on her look with her hair and her wellies

This one however is more centered on the side of her that is briefly shown and teased. The rebel strong side, which is why I need her backstory. I'll make loads more of these if/ when we get her backstory.

I love Omera incredibly. She's a regular girl on a peaceful planet doing her daily thing but she also knows how to defend herself and fight for her people. He personality is down to earth and humble even when she knows how to shoot and probably has a meaningful maybe tragic past she still is kind to others. Especially Din - she doesn't judge him at all nor taunt him. She full on accepts him and his choices without a doubt. Her vibe, her energy suits Din Djarin's so much. They're practically soulmates.

I really really hope David Filoni and John Favreau decide to bring her back to show us her backstory and show that they can be together. Besides love is all about sacrifices and comprises too 💖

[lesbiankryze]

when bo saved din’s life, he saved hers too

[padawansuggest]

"Bo-Katan should eat out Din" You are so g#damn right and you should say it

I’ll say it louder for those in the back: HER TONGUE SHOULD BE SO FAR UP HIS BUSSY HE’S CRYING thank you

[hemsvit]

please DO NOT make Din and Bo Katan a couple

Yes they have a bond but do not involve romantic feelings

They’re platonic soulmates

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

INEVITABLE [3]

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: language, mentions of the slave trade, canon violence, blood and injuries, PTSD flashback, mention of torture

word count: 6,183

Summary: It was like fate or destiny had planned from the beginning for you to be on the run from the law. With the words ‘I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold’ adorning your rib cage you always wondered what was worse: Knowing you were bound to being wanted or realizing your soulmate was a cursed bounty hunter. You had a mission to finish and no bounty hunter, soulmate or not, was going to stop you.

[previous] [next]

03: CALL IT FATE, DESTINY, CALL IT LUCK

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"luck is my middle name. mind you, my first name is Bad."

⏤terry pratchett

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Every blow to his body made you flinch as if you had been hit yourself. Blood splattered into the air, raining down into the already formed pool, and your cries of desperation had morphed into moans of mourning. Rough fingers dug into your cheeks holding you in place and keeping you from turning away from the assault. Lips pressed against the shell of your ear. Poisonous words hissed out in a voice that made your blood run cold.

‘No, no. You keep watching. I want to make sure this lesson sticks. I want to make sure you know who you belong to.’

You startled awake with a gasp⏤ eyes wide and searching for Viktor. His cruel, cold laugh lingering at the back of your mind. But, he was nowhere to be seen. You weren’t in his palace. The cockpit surrounding you was silent. The lines of hyperspace casting a soft, blue light on everything it touched. The Mandalorian. A breath of relief left you as you sunk in your seat. You were safe. Well, maybe not safe. You didn’t exactly trust your new captor. 

The room was empty save for you and as you sat up you realized the binders were gone from your wrists. Now, you trusted Mando even less. Who in their right mind captures a bounty and then leaves them unrestricted in their ship’s cockpit? You jumped up, staying quiet, and stepped over to glance over the blinking control panel. You were no pilot, but you knew the basics in case of emergency⏤ not that you’d ever put those skills to the test. How hard could it be? You pressed a button and when nothing happened you hit it twice more.

“It’s locked.”

You cried out in surprise and spun. Mando had climbed up the ladder right outside the open cockpit door but he only rose enough to rest his arm on the floor. You set a hand to your chest to try and calm your racing heart. “Maker, bucket head. You’re quiet.”

“You’re not.” He replied, then tilted his head. “Come down.”

Mando disappeared from view and you huffed in annoyance at how cool and collected the guy seemed. You rushed forward, sliding down the ladder, and when your boots hit the floor you spun to give him a piece of your mind⏤ determined to get under his skin. However, your eyes landed on the small, green child sitting on top of a crate now staring at you while his father rummaged through a weapons locker. Mando shifted enough that you were able to see your firearm hanging in the locker.

“Hey, that’s mine.” You barked. You had only gotten a step closer when Mando turned around and hit a button on his vambrace to close the doors. The tell tale sound of a lock being clicked into place. “Give it back.”

“Why do you only have one slug?” Mando asked.

“Why did you take off my binders?” You countered. It wasn’t something you expected to be answered, you just wanted to answer his question with a question.

The man shrugged. “You looked uncomfortable.” You blinked in surprise. “Where did you get the slugthrower?”

“It was…” His first answer had caught you so off guard that you nearly answered his own without thought. You caught yourself at the last minute and shook your head. “I found it at the bottom of a cereal box. I’m trying to collect the whole set.”

Mando sighed irritably and you took that as a victory. Although as great as it felt annoying Mando and getting a rise out of him, you realized that these moments you called ‘victories’ could possibly add up until the Manalorian snapped and murdered you. This scenario was like any other involving a bounty hunter. You had a person to escape from, and though it was a bit unconventional than your usual situation, you were nothing if not flexible.

“Alright Mando,” You crossed your arms and placed emphasis on the name he told you to call him, “What do you want?” He tilted his head and you shrugged. “Everybody wants something. What’s your price? What do I have to pay to get you to crush my fob and taxi me to Corellia?”

“Corellia?”

“It’s next on my list.”

“Why are you⏤”

You forced a frustrated laugh. “Why does it matter? Just tell me what you want and I’ll⏤”

“I already told you, I want answers.” He replied sharply. A soft coo came from the child, and Mando drifted closer to you. “I want to know who you are. I need to know.”

It was confusing as to why he seemed so desperate for something that had nothing to do with him. You rolled through the facts you had gathered. If rumors were true, Mandalorians were all about honor. You had saved his son⏤ sort of. He could’ve done it himself with that jetpack, but you hoped the intention was enough in this case. He didn’t shove you in carbonite, he let you sleep in his cockpit, removed the binders… Even now, he made no move to detain you. Did the Mandalorian want to help you? Was that it? Maybe he wanted to help you, to settle any debt he thought he may owe you, but he wanted to know he wasn’t aiding the scum of the galaxy. 

“You’re not a slave trader.” Mando said. He nodded in your direction, “Not with that collar.”

Your eyes widened, hand shooting up to touch the metal welded around your neck, and gaped, “How… You don’t know that.” You pushed the words out firmly. Nobody assumed the gold choker was what it truly was. “It’s a necklace, bucket head. You⏤”

“No, it’s not.” He replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not with those scars. Nobody claws at a necklace.” 

Mando’s words were jarring. It would’ve been easier to handle him just punching your lights out. There was a slight tremble in your hands and you forced them into fists at your side to compensate. How had he even noticed? Nobody looked close enough to puzzle that out. They saw gold and assumed wealth. Any normal slave’s collar was made of scrap parts. Plus, Viktor had ensured that most of the marks you left had been healed properly. The only ones who hadn’t just lingered right under the band itself.

“Fine.” You forced all your emotions into the back of your head, out of the light, where it wouldn’t been seen or felt. You absolutely hated that this man was able to so easily get under your skin.“I’m a slave seeking revenge, Mando. Searching the galaxy for the man who used to own me so I can put a slug in his head.” He remained a statue as always. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“If it’s the truth, then yes.”

“Well, it is.” Sort of. More or less. That was the quick description of your mission, at least.

“Then why are you visiting cantinas? I can’t imagine a slave trader who is rich enough to decorate his slaves in gold would be hanging around the places you’re searching.”

Again, the Mandalorian wasn’t wrong. Viktor would never set foot in a public cantina, and you knew exactly where he was. Canto Bight. The issue was, in order to get to him you needed to find the ‘Reaper’ for information. Otherwise you’d never get close enough to pull the trigger.

“You’re right.” You said slowly.

Mando tilted his head. “Then who are you looking for?”

“A guy.”

“That’s vague.”

“Yeah,” You snorted, “It’s almost as if I’m being vague on purpose to avoid connecting to you in any way. Funny, huh?”

The cargo hold was filled with an uncomfortable silence. You couldn’t see the Mandalorian’s eyes, but you could feel his heavy gaze cutting straight through you. Growing up the way you did, born from a slave and raised with only one destiny for yourself, you had gotten used to being seen but not acknowledged. The places you worked equated you to a house plant or a piece of furniture.

Then Viktor saw you. He saw you. And the words scrawled on your ribs made you precious to him. He got some sick kick out of owning something fated to another. You joined a collection of others and you were no longer a piece of furniture to be ignored, but rather you were a trophy. An item to be seen and not touched. Admired but not connected to. As Mando guessed, Viktor dressed you in gold and flaunted you to every ne'er do well who visited him. That was your life for years, and it hadn’t changed until six months ago.

Six months ago you ran and your face decorated bounty pucks all over the galaxy, but you felt invisible. Nobody, save for a bounty hunter here or there, sought you out. You were a stranger on the street, a random face in the crowd, and you could live with that. It was better than the alternative.

Right now though? Standing in front of the Mandalorian you felt seen. Mando was actively seeing you at this moment, taking in details nobody had noticed before, and it unnerved you. He wasn’t looking at you like house decor or a trophy. He wasn’t looking at you like you were his next pay day like the other hunters had. Mando was treating you like another living soul and it bothered you that the sensation felt so foreign. How could a man who hid behind a wall of metal see you so clearly?

“If I told you that you could trust me,” Mando said slowly, hesitantly, “Would you believe me?”

“No. But it’s cute that you asked.”

Mando took a step toward you and your confidence faltered. You stumbled back a half step and spat a curse at yourself in your head. If he noticed your slip up, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he heaved a sigh. “I’ll take you to Corellia, with the promise of safe passage, on one condition.” You nodded. “When I drop you off, you don’t contact me again. This? This never happened. We never met. I’ll crush your fob and tell the guild you weren’t worth my time.”

You snorted in amusement. “Deal. That’s a win-win situation for me, bucket head.”

Maybe you weren’t the unluckiest son of a bitch on this side of the galaxy.

Din was tiptoeing through a minefield. And, the only person he had to blame for being stuck here was himself. He shouldn’t have kept you on the ship. Kriff, he shouldn’t have brought you on in the first place. Din should’ve shot you a quick ‘thanks for the help’ and left you behind in Bespin. But, no. Like the karking idiot he was, he brought you along and worse he spoke to you.

There was still a lot he didn’t know. He’d be foolish to think otherwise, but he felt a tinge of truth with your admittance a day earlier. For years, for most of his life, he cursed his soulmark and he loathed the idea of ever meeting his criminal soulmate. Now, he knew differently. Not a criminal, just a person seeking vengeance. Din was aware that a bulk of the galaxy would still consider someone with plans of homicide to be a criminal, but from where he sat Din could hardly judge. He was by no means a good man, without sin, and he had very recent memories of mowing down Imperial after Imperial for the sake of his son. So, your half truth didn’t shock him or fill him with disgust.

No, what Din felt disgusted over was the knowledge that his soulmate had been wronged. The word ‘wronged’ didn’t even begin to cover the atrocity you must have endured. His soulmate. You had been a slave, treated as such by society and owned by some bastard, and that made every single molecule of his body vibrate with rage. 

Mandalorians' belief in soulmates was by no means unique. They were very much like the rest of the galaxy in their reverence for the words. Maybe the one trait Mandalorians shared with the majority.

However, Aq Vetina was different. The culture nearly worshiped the concept of soulmates⏤ saw it as a true blessing and treated it as such. Din didn’t have a lot of memories of his home world. Didn’t have a lot of memories of his parents either. The memories he did have though he treasured, and one of the more prominent ones was this: his parents were soulmates. The reality of soulmarks was more dim than most would like to believe. Soulmates didn’t always end up together. For hundreds of different variables, but just because fate had scrawled words on a person’s skin didn’t mean it guaranteed them a happy ending.

His parents adored one another. Din remembered that. He grew up in a house filled and overflowing with love. An emotion as strong as that wasn’t easily forgotten. Hell, it felt like it was ingrained into his own soul. Tangled with his DNA. When Din lost his parents, he lost everything. Including his culture. The one comfort Din always took was who his soulmate would be. He knew he’d have a soulmark once he hit puberty, with both parents bearing it the chances of him not having one was incredibly low, and though it bothered him his parents would never see his mark he’d still take comfort in it. Just as every man from Aq Vetina before him, just as his father had, he’d find his soulmate and shower them with every ounce of love and adoration he could squeeze from his being. Din would find his soulmate and he would have a family once more. He’d have that love again.

There was no doubt of the love and care his Mandalorian buir and teacher had for him. Din owed the man everything. But the love was different. Not worse, not better, but different.

When his words formed on his skin, Din had never felt such joy and had never felt it turn sour so quickly. It was why the insult of who he thought his soulmate would be stung even worse. It felt like the last bit of his culture, the last shred of his parents he had left, was being taken. Insulted. Spat on. He spent years after convincing himself that a soulmate wouldn’t be worth his time and he was better on his own. Din didn’t seek relationships beyond flings and one night stands across the galaxy because any relationship would be a sad ghost in comparison to the memory of what his parents had. A reminder of what fate took from him.

Now, he sat in the same ship as his soulmate and it felt like so many of his years were wasted on an assumption.

Din was angry that his first words to you were a threat.

He was angry you grew up with that on your skin.

He was angry the mystery and excitement of having a soulmate had been taken from you as well.

He was angry you were treated as lesser than by the people surrounding you.

He was angry that someone had the audacity to put a collar around your neck.

Din was fucking angry.

It burned through his veins and had him seeing red. He was no stranger to anger, but this was overwhelming. And, the worst of it, the thing that made him burn alive from the inside out was the anger he had for himself.

Din never sought you out. He mentally and emotionally tossed you aside without even an attempt to understand. Din gave up on you. His soulmate.

The only thing keeping him from exploding and destroying everything in his radius was the depressing and mellowing thought of his father. His father would be so disappointed in him. His mother would be so disappointed in him. His buir would be disappointed in him. 

Din’s spiraling mind tried to comfort itself. It told him that he was doing better now. He knew better now. He was going to get you to where you needed to go and tell Karga to drop the bounty. He’d separate himself from you and then he’d never have to think of you again. You’d be better off without him. All those thoughts only worsened his shame.

What else could he do? It wasn’t just a thought. It was a prayer to the universe, to fate who got them stuck like this to begin with. What else could he do? Din wasn’t the wide eyed little boy starstruck at the notion of a soulmate anymore. The years had changed him into someone that didn’t deserve that. That left him pleading as he sat in the cockpit fuming silently. What else could he do?

The answer given to him was the sound of your feet climbing the ladder to meet him. He huffed out a quiet sigh and when you entered his peripherals he questioned your presence, more gruff than he intended, “What?”

“Maker, relax.” You dropped into the passenger seat with a scoff. Din cursed himself. Again. “Your kid fell asleep downstairs and I’m not desperate enough to start talking to your walls.” He stayed silent and you let out a chuckle. “Although, maybe your walls would be a better conversationalist.”

“You should sleep.” Din replied. It was his best case scenario right now.

“Not tired.” You slouched in your seat, finding a comfortable spot, “So what’s your kid’s deal? You have a mid-life crisis and find the closest kid to adopt?”

You were annoying. You never shut up. Din liked the sound of your voice way too much.

“No.”

“Then how’d you end up with him?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s still two days until we reach Corellia.”

Din shouldn’t answer. The less he knew about you, and the less you knew about him, the better. He should keep his mouth shut, get you to the world you wanted, and speed away as fast as he could. Travel to the clear other side of the galaxy. He knew all of this, and yet his mouth opened. “He was a bounty.”

Fuck.

“Seriously?” You chuckled. “Why would there be a bounty on a kid?”

“It’s hard to explain.” And Din really didn’t want to. “Empire wanted him.”

You hummed and he was caught off guard when you didn’t ask any further questions on his vague statement. He was surprised further when you chuckled, “Good for you.”

Din turned in his seat to look at you. “I turned him in.”

“And then obviously went back for him, I’m guessing. Since he’s, you know, here.”

“That doesn’t change what I did⏤”

“We’re all assholes and it’s human nature that the first thing our brains think to do, our instinct, is sometimes selfish and stupid. It happens.” You said without missing a beat. “The only thing that matters at the end of the day is if you’re willing to fix what you fucked up and the conscious decision you make from there.” Din could only stare at you in response as your words rolled around in his head. You said it so simply, like an offhand comment or passing thought, but it felt so profound to him. You shrugged. “I know, I know. I can be inspirational sometimes. It happens.”

Din found his lips twitching up into a small smile and he forced himself to look away. The only safe spot to stare was the control panel. You stayed silent and Din realized that if he focused hard enough he could see your reflection in the glass panel that sat in front of you. Without any attention on you, without the business of a conversation, Din watched your features soften. There was a melancholy in your gaze that stirred something in his chest. 

“I can…” Din began and your eyes darted to look his way while he stayed facing forward, “I can remove that for you.”

“Huh?”

Din spun in his chair so he faced you, and he motioned to your neck where that damned collar sat. “That. I can remove it. If you’d like.”

Your eyes widened marginally and the surprise dissipated as quickly as it came. You shook your head. “No. I don’t want it off.”

“You don’t…” Din tilted his head in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you want it off?”

“It’s a story for another day.” You mumbled.

“But, I don’t understand.” Din blurted before he could reign it back. Never, ever would anybody in the entire galaxy claim him to be the nosy type of person. Din kept to himself and expected others to respect him in that same way. Silence never bothered him. Yet, that same sensation that stirred in his chest, urged him to learn more. It was the most unfamiliar feeling he’s ever had.

You shook your head. “You never take your armor off, right? Even when it’d be more comfortable to shed it all?”

“My armor is not the same as a slave collar.” Din bristled.

“You wear your armor because it stands for something. It represents a part of you, and carries a belief.” You replied sharply. “Right now, this collar serves the exact same purpose for me.  So, no, I don’t see a difference.”

Din leaned back and found himself speechless. That was all true of his armor, but he couldn’t fathom a person feeling similarly to the kind of metal soldered to your neck. He cleared his throat and leaned forward on his elbows. “I chose to wear this armor. I put it on willingly.”

“Who says I didn’t choose to put this collar on? Who said I wasn’t willing?” You replied and Din found himself floored again. The melancholy in your eyes hardened and turned to something sharp, mean, and cold. “You can find a sense of protection, of belonging, and what once brought you comfort can just as easily turn into a prison.” You stood up abruptly and Din’s gaze followed you. You motioned to him, “Are you telling me that beskar never feels like a prison?”

You turned on your heel and left. Din didn’t understand how easily you were able to spin him in place. The question you left him with felt like a blow to the chest. Din stiffened in his seat and shook his head. He needed to get you off this ship as quickly as he could.

“You’re kind of a weird kid, you know that?” You were laying on your stomach in the cargo hold, kicking your legs in the air, while leaning on one fist. The child, Grogu, sat in front of you munching on a ration bar that you had scavenged for him in all the the Mandalorian’s supply. You hadn’t asked permission, but you figured Mando couldn’t be upset at you for feeding his child. “Not because you’re green with giant ears. I have no issue with that.” You continued. “You’re just an oddball. In a good way, I mean.”

The boy babbled between bites and you nodded your head as he spoke.

“Mhmm.” You agreed to whatever he was saying. “Yeah. Yeah. Tell me about it.”

Three days on this ship with the Mandalorian and his son hadn’t been the worst thing in the galaxy. You were fed, you had a place to sleep, and the walking tin can hadn’t murdered you. It had been a while since you came away with this many wins back to back. The last bit of real tension you dealt with was when Mando offered to take the golden band around your neck off. You hadn’t meant to take it so personal or make it personal back. You must have seriously pissed the guy off though because since then he had maybe only spoken a total of ten words to you. Even when you tried to egg him into an argument. You found you missed talking to him which meant you must have been more desperate for interaction than you thought. Why else would you crave to hear his voice? 

You could always apologize for comparing his armor to your collar. The dig had been a guess. An attempt to get under his skin as he had gotten under yours. You pushed yourself up off the floor to sit criss cross and your hand drifted to the gold band around your neck. It’d be nice to have it off, but you couldn’t yet. Not until you dealt with Viktor. For now, you would just have to daydream about the day you’d walk around with a bare neck.

“I’m sorry.”

The sound of the modulated voice had you whip around in surprise, eyes wide and heart racing. Mando was leaning against the wall behind you. He must have come from the kitchen area or fresher, but considering you thought he had been up in the cockpit it really caught you off guard.

“Maker, how are you that silent? You’re basically covered in pots and pans.”

“Practice.” Mando shrugged. His hands were resting on his belt. “I’m sorry about,” He paused and nodded toward you, “you know.”

Your hand fell from your neck. “Why are you apologizing? That was like 48 hours ago.”

“We’ll be landing in Coreilla soon. It’s now or never.”

“Okay.” You mumbled. It surprised you again when the child waddled from around you and crawled into your lap. You scratched his head while he continued to eat. “I’m sorry too then. I didn’t have to drag your armor into it.”

“You weren’t wrong.”

Your eyes widened at his admission, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with it. There was an energy between you and the Mandalorian you couldn’t quite explain. The close quarters made you naturally want to bond, but from experience you knew that was a poor plan. Plus, Mando didn’t seem all that interested in starting up any kind of friendship. Which made sense. You’d be out of his life soon enough. You just wondered if you had gone too long without any real social interaction. Back when you were with Viktor, he had others in his collection that you had grown close to⏤ like sisters. You missed being social.

Before you could think of a bridging conversation, Mando pushed off the wall and climbed up into the cockpit. You blew out a breath of air as soon as he was out of view then glanced down at the kid in your lap.

“Why is your dad so hard to talk to?” You asked. “I can talk to anyone and anything, but that beskar may as well be a wall.” Grogu babbled another string of nonsense and you nodded. “Yeah, I mean he probably doesn’t make a habit of befriending quarries, huh?”

It was fine. It didn’t matter.

And, a few hours later when the ship was landed on the tarmac and the ramp was lowering you repeated those phrases to yourself again. 

“Well, uh, thanks.” You nodded. Mando had given you back your weapons and he now stood inside the cargo hold with his son in his arms while you drifted down the ramp. You paused at the bottom. “It’s been fun, bucket head.”

Mando didn’t reply, but Grogu did offer you a wave which you cheerily returned. With one last nod, and a mocking salute, you spun on your heel and began to tread away. You had only gotten a few feet from the ship when you heard Mando call out after you. The sound of his voice calling out your name grinding your feet to a halt.

“Just…Be careful.” Mando said tensely. 

“I always try.” You replied with a grin and a shrug.

As you continued to leave, your stomach churned in discomfort. The Corellia shipyard was dreary and gray which could sour anyone’s mood. When you reached the gates, the overwhelming urge to look back slammed into you. In fact, you nearly turned on instinct alone. A moment of weakness born from a desperation to connect to someone again. Shoving it as deep down into yourself as you could, burying it with the bloody memories and traumas in the graveyard of your mind, you pushed forward deeper into the city of Corellia. 

It took you only ten minutes to travel through the city and find the first cantina of many. By time you arrived thoughts of the Mandalorian had been successfully shelved and you were seriously craving a strong drink. The bartender was kind and cheerful, the opposite of how this city of Corellia looked, and after he poured you a drink you drifted to a back table. 

You decided this was going to be your least favorite world. Even in comparison with Jakku. Never before had entering a city filled you with such dread and distaste. Like a cloud of darkness had rolled over your mind to match the stormy clouds above the city itself. You were honestly just in shock that there could be a place worse than Jakku. That rolled into the realization that the galaxy was a big place and you still had a lot of ground to cover. There was a chance you had yet to see the worst this universe had to offer. That only worsened your misery.

Something solid, something you unfortunately recognized as the end of a blaster, pressed against your spine. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

Fate just couldn’t give you a fucking break could it?

With a sigh, you turned around and began to mumble your usual spiel, “Would you really arrest your⏤” The words died in your mouth as your eyes landed on the man standing behind you. A Nikto wearing a grin filled only with malice and eyes that shone with rage. One who gripped the blaster tight in one hand while his other hung loosely at his side with three missing fingers. You grimaced, “Oh, my luck can’t possibly be this bad…”

Din was pacing the cargo hold while Grogu watched him curiously from the cot. Already he had climbed up to the cockpit just to immediately come down twice. He wanted to leave this kriffing planet. Why couldn’t he leave this kriffing planet? He mumbled a string of curses after the rhetoric question. Of course he knew why. 

“This is a bad idea.” Din scoffed aloud. Grogu chirped and his feet came to a stop so he could stare at the kid. His son. Saving Grogu had been a bad idea too. A life changing one at that. That didn’t make it any less important that he went through with the rescue. Din had gambled, taken a chance, and his pay out had been worth more than he could’ve ever imagined. Could he take a gamble on you?

Considering how quickly he had given up on you years prior, taking a gamble was the least he could do.

Din sighed and grabbed his satchel to place Grogu in before hurrying off the ship. He didn’t have a plan. Then again, he rarely did. What would he say to you? Admit that he was your soulmate? Din probably should have done that three days ago. But with the way you had blown off the idea of soulmates, he had a high suspicion that telling you the truth would only worsen the situation. Besides, he was not interested in exploring the soulmate relationship further. Din didn’t deserve that. What he could do, what he owed you, was help in your mission. If he told you the truth, you wouldn’t let him help. If he kept it to himself, then maybe he could help you meet your goals and put you on a path to a better life. One you deserved.

There. Plan made.

Din knew he needed to find a cantina but he wasn’t sure which you’d be in since there were a few in this city. He picked the closest one and hoped for the best. 

The hand knotted in your hair roughly threw you back to the asphalt ground of the alley behind the cantina. You landed on your back, the air briefly leaving you, and you stared up at Nivor. With a wince, you spoke, “You know, for only having two fingers you got a pretty tight grip.”

A boot slammed into the side of your rib cage before Nivor knelt down and pressed his knee against your sternum. Your hands reached out to claw at him, shove him off, but he grabbed your wrists with his one good hand and pinned it to the ground above your head.

“You always have something to say.” Nivor spat. “Don’t know why Viktor liked you so much.”

“You and me both.” You replied.

He applied more pressure to your chest with his knee and you clenched your teeth to bite back a moan. Nivor chuckled, “He wants you back.”

“I’m aware.” You snapped, breathless.

“Told him I’d bring you back, but I don’t think he’d mind a few missing pieces.”

“Wrong.” You glared up at him. “You bring me back less than whole and he’ll rip your head off.”

Nivor shook his head, “You’re overestimating your worth, little bird.” Your glare deepened at the nickname. “Viktor’s found a new favorite plaything.” The Nikto pulled a vibroblade from his belt. “Besides, you owe me some parts.”

“Is this about the fingers thing?” You replied. “That was an accident. I wasn’t trying to shoot off half your hand, I was trying to kill you.” You couldn’t help but paste on a smug smirk. “So really you should be thankful.”

“What is it they say? A leg for a leg.” Nivor dragged the blade up from your knee to your hip. Not deep enough to cut through your clothes, but enough to make you uncomfortable. “An eye for an eye.” The blade kissed the skin of your cheekbone as it circled around your eye softly. “How about a hand for three fingers?!”

You shook your head. “The math is not adding up there, buddy.”

With a cry of anger, Nivor lifted the blade in the air and at the motion his knee lifted off your chest. Using the window of opportunity, you rolled into him as hard as you could and he fell back on his ass. However, though his grip had loosened some, he still had a tight hold on one of your wrists and it kept you from running. You tried to twist out of his grip to avoid the blade he was swinging wildly now, and your free hand shot to grab your own dagger. Nivor was stronger than you gave him credit for, and once he gained his footing he was able to yank you back to the ground. The dagger you managed to grab clattered away from your grip when your chest slammed into the asphalt and a cry of pain slipped from your lips as Nivor twisted your arm back to keep you pinned down. Now, his knee dug into your spine.

You tried to reach around and grab him, but your fingers only grazed the leather of his jacket.

“For that, you’re losing your whole arm.” Nivor chuckled. 

His blade pressed into your shoulder and panic flooded your entire body. No, no, no. This was your dominant arm. This injury would put an abrupt end to your mission and that was only if you survived it. Between blood loss and Nivor choosing a grimy alley to operate, your chances were slim. With another scream, you tried to shake your entire body in a poor attempt to knock him off of you, but you only felt his blade begin to dig in deeper. Heat flare in your shoulder as Nivor deliberately sunk it in as slowly as possible. 

“Stop!” The plea left your lips and you immediately felt shame for begging this man for mercy. You heard his chuckle, the blade sunk a bit deeper, then with the familiar sound of a blaster going off the weight suddenly fell from your back. You were gasping for air, your heart still pounding as you felt hot blood drip down your back and shoulder, and when you glanced to the side you saw Nivor slumped to the ground. The sinister light in his eyes was gone and his features were slack. There was still smoke rising from the blaster burn in his back.

You turned the opposite way, whipped your head in that direction more like, and there stood the Mandalorian now holstering his weapon. You had tucked his memory away, sure you’d never see him again, but now you felt so relieved to be wrong. Seeing that shine of silver may as well have been the glowing end of a long tunnel. The little green child, resting in his bag by his side, lifted his hand and gave you a small wave.

With the arm that wasn’t numb with pain, you waved back.

taglist:

@onceinamando @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @harriedandharassed @aheadfullofsteverogers @elfamosotoga @the-anchored-sailor-girl @garbo-lesbo @moonlqghts @stokeholdsblog @morks-watermelon @http-onie @chonkercatto @xalphafox @pedrojoe @zarahbronstein @cockscombkingdom @ale0m @shelbyteller @fallinallinmendes @grandtheoristpeach @perilous-pasta @love-the-abyss @kneelforloki @insomniac-nerd-posts-things

a/n: this was supposed to be my silly, funny, light hearted story, but the reader in this grabbed me by the shirt collar and went 'bitch nah'. soooooo here we are :)

[wxckedwxrld]

headcannons

• harry potter

• law & order: svu

• marvel

• narcos

• narnia

• peaky blinders

• riverdale

• 7ds

• Star Wars

• supernatural

[burntheedges]

Roll-A-Trope Challenge Masterlist

Y'all the response to this challenge blew me away!! 🥺🥰 We are going to have so many amazing fics to read! 🧡 Check here for all of the character/trope pairings from when people joined.

I'll link each one as they're posted. Under the cut you'll soon find fics for Dave York, Dieter Bravo, Din Djarin, Dio Morrissey, Ezra (Prospect), Frankie Morales, Jack Daniels, Javi Gutierrez, Javier Peña, Joel Miller, Marcus Acacius, Marcus Moreno, Marcus Pike, Max Phillips, Nathan Landry, Oberyn Martell, Pero Tovar, and Tim Rockford! And so many amazing tropes!!

Last updated: 12/27 | Fic count: 56!

Dave York

Audience of One by @katareyoudrilling | 3k | Dave x f!reader Trope: famous person AU

Can You Remember Who You Were? by @punkshort | 9.1k | Dave x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Danger Zone by @almostempty | 6k | Dave x Lana Kane (you) x Sterling Archer (crossover with Archer (TV)) Trope: snowed in

Down Bad by @schnarfer | 6.1k | Dave x f!reader | part 2 Trope: only one bed (and bonus, it's a coffee shop AU!)

It's Only Make Believe by @jennaispunk | 7k | Dieter x f!actress!reader Trope: fake dating

Sunshine & Rainbows by @jeewrites | 10.1k | Dave x f!reader Trope: amnesia

Dieter Bravo

Broken Hearts Mended by @bitchesuntitled | 6.1k | Dieter x f!reader Trope: time travel

Just like the Picture by @nerdieforpedro | 936 | Dieter x gn!reader Trope: landlord

Teleportation and Blue Whiskey (part 1) by @davnittbraes | 1.5k | Dieter x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

this protector by @perotovar | 3.1k | Dieter x Din Trope: only one bed

Din Djarin

Familiar yet Foreign by @whxtedreams | 3.7k | Din x f!reader Trope: fake marriage

New Home (Part 1) by @weirdoneattheparty | 2.1k | Din x f!reader Trope: friends to lovers

something worse by @corazondebeskar-reads | 3.2k | Din x f!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

The Long Way Round by @din-cognito | 3.17k | Din x gn!reader Trope: road trip

Dio Morrissey

Crimes Against Each Other by @crowandmousewritingco | 2.9k | Dio x trans!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

Ezra (Prospect)

To Leave the Green by @cas-readsandwrites | 2k | Ezra & Cee, gen Trope: time loop

Frankie Morales

a kiss, my panacea by @skittlesfics | 917 | Frankie x gn!reader Trope: sickfic

Better Love by @docharleythegeekqueen | 3.4k | Frankie x reader Trope: snowed in

Dreamers (part 1) by @beefrobeefcal | 3.4k | Frankie x reader Trope: soulmates | now with Part 2!

Forever starts tonight by @sawymredfox | 3.6k | Frankie x f!reader Trope: pining

GOING DOWN by @aurorawritestoescape | 3.4k | Frankie x f!reader and Joel x f!reader Trope: exes

I Like You A Latte by @inept-the-magnificent | 752 | Frankie x f!reader Trope: coffee shop AU

I'm Yours by @ashleyfilm | 3.2k | Frankie x reader Trope: secret relationship

To Feel Your Body Against Mine by @flightlessangelwings | 4.5k | Frankie x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

Jack Daniels

i'd give anything for more time by @penvisions | 2k | Jack x f!reader trope: time loop

If I should die before you do by @maggiemayhemnj | 1.7k | Jack x f!reader trope: soulmates

Life's a Dance by @wordywarriorwrites | 2k | Jack x reader Trope: didn't know they were dating

Lucid Dreams by @fhatbhabiee | 3.2k | Jack x reader Trope: friends to lovers

Javi Gutierrez

Things You Knew by @eff4freddie | 8k | Javi G x reader Trope: soulmates

To Make a Day for You by @yopossum | 3k? | Javi G x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

Javier Peña

3 sides of a man by @milla-frenchy | 3.3k | Javi x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

between two floors by @glowingxeyes | 1k | Javi x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator | there’s a part 2 and 3!

GOING DOWN by @almostfoxglove | 3.3k | Javi P x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

good guys, bad deeds by @miss-oranje-disco-dancer | 3.9k | Javi x f!reader Trope: only one bed

Joel Miller

Birds of a Feather by @whocaresstillthelouvre | 5.3k | Joel x f!reader Trope: snowed in

Besties by @butterphii | >1k | Joel x f!reader

drive by @kedsandtubesocks | 2k | Joel x f!reader Trope: road trip

For Better or Worse by @captainredspade | Joel x f!reader Trope: fake marriage

Fragile State by @galway-girlatwork | 2.5k | Joel x OFC!Tara Trope: amnesia

Galway Girl by @yxtkiwiyxt | 7k | Joel x f!reader | part 2!! Trope: soulmates

If You're Reading This by @crowandmousewritingco | 4.5k | Joel x nb!reader Trope: epistolary

It Had To Be You by @jobean12-blog | 4.8k | Joel x f!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

Wish by @hotgirlbedtimescenarios | 1.7k Trope: time travel

Marcus Acacius

Searching for the stars by @the-mandawhor1an | 2.7k | Marcus x f!reader Trope: time travel

Marcus Moreno

Through Every Lifetime by @joelalorian | 4.5k | Marcus x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Marcus Pike

Pike's Place by @pedges-world | Marcus x reader Trope: snowed in | series!!

Max Phillips

A Little Broken by @clawdeewritesfanfic | 3.2k | Max x f!reader Trope: pining

Time After Time by @grogusmum | drabble | Max x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Nathan Landry

consensus ad idem by @sunshinehaze1 | 4.9k | Nathan x f!reader Trope: snowed in

Oberyn Martell

sweet and sour by @iamasaddie | 5.5k | Oberyn x f!reader Trope: fake relationship

The Correspondence of the Contagious by @crowandmousewritingco | 1.4k | Oberyn x gn!reader x Ellaria Trope: epistolary

Pero Tovar

Memories made, memories lost by @avastrasposts | 7.9k | Pero x f!reader Trope: amnesia

nothing is sure by @tinytinymenace | 2.5k | Pero x OFC Trope: didn't know they were dating

Tim Rockford

|Bump in the Night| by @dc418writes | Tim x black!reader Trope: friends to lovers

Keep Quiet by @auteurdelabre | Tim x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

When Only Memories Remain by @artsy-girl-76 | 3.4k | Tim x f!reader Trope: "shop" AU

[wannab-urs]

Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 43

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Hello Friends!

Welcome to the 43rd installment of the Spreadsheet Digest! I did a lot of reading this week and I'm very excited to share it with y'all. All summaries and tags are provided by the author, unless they weren't - then I filled them in.

Want to be on the digest? Tag me in your work and I'll do my best to read it <3

Let Them See - Dave one shot by @sizzlingcloudmentality

he gets you off in front of the other guys

explicit, smut, no use of y/n, reader is ablebodied, d/s dynamics (duh), voyeurism, exhibitionism, very affectionate degradation (it's Dave, of course he calls you a slut), female masturbation, male masturbation, unprotected p in v, very affectionate possessive talk, creampie, petnames (baby), choking

This is so hot... Like... SO hot

Let Them Feel - Dave one shot by @guiltyasdave

(author's note) yesterday the lovely em @/luxurychristmaspudding posted this poll with the compelling question in a room full of p boys, who is getting you off (in front of everyone else 👀)?, which led to the lovely daphne @/sizzlingcloudmentality posting let them see (go read that asap!), which then led to me asking "hey do you mind if i continue this?" and then writing 2k words in a state that i can only describe as possessed

explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be grabbed, no use of y/n, dom!dave, exhibitionism, lowkey group sex tbh, rough oral sex (m receiving), fingering, degradation kink, praise kink

After reading Let Them See, I was dying for more because it was so good and then the lovely Jana gave me more and it was everything.

Eros and Psyche - Dieter series by @schnarfer

Dieter is a modern day Greek God Eros. We’re going full existential dread rom-com, actually.

Vaguely inspired by the Greek myth of Eros & Psyche, soul mates, yearning, emotional torment, drugs and alcohol references, lots of swears, slow burn, discussions of death and mental health, eventual smut. Dieter is a walking red flag. Reader is named (Psyche) but physical descriptions are minimal. Time is meaningless but also always marching on. Lots of Dieter POV. Fleabag coded.

this fic... I adore the soulmates trope as sort of a guilty pleasure, but this was beyond anything I've ever read within that trope. It's sweet, a bit sad at times, and just perfect in every way. The descriptions, the characters, the everything. Despite my rambling I feel like I'm speechless because I can't quite articulate why I think this fic is perfect. Just trust me.

Do it Like Madonna - Dieter one shot by @covetyou

Being Dieter Bravo's plus one to a party isn't always all it's cracked up to be, and sometimes, just sometimes, it puts a smile on your face anyway.

no smut. nudity. mention of Dieter Bravo's dick and balls. drug and alcohol use/refrence, improper use of party hats. cameos from Javi G, Oberyn, and Santos (all the P-Boys are there!) gn!reader

This is so fucking funny and so quintessentially Dieter. Perfection

Bloodlust - Din series by @dindjarindiaries

A daring favor from Boba Fett sends you and your long-time business partner, Din Djarin, undercover together—as a married couple.

fake marriage, fluff & angst, hurt/comfort, eventual/mild smut, sexual references, injuries & blood, canon-typical violence

this fic was adorable, and the plot was so interesting. I love their love ugh. It's just so cute and earnest and everything I needed.

Waiting Game - Din/Ez one shot by @northernbluess

din quite literally crashed into your life when you least expected it. injured and seriously stubborn, you took him in and as you tenderly nursed him to health, your bond grew in quiet shared moments. the day came when he was recovered enough to leave you, except he never did. now, you find yourself in a similar predicament, taking in another wearied stranger just as you had with din. he ensnares you, pulling you into his orbit, with his silver tongue, stolen touches, and hungry eyes—but what happens when you find out that he has seemingly charmed din too?

threesome, m/m/f, voyeur ezra, possessive din, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected PIV sex, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, fingering, slight dom!din, ezra is a bit of a creep at first, major canon divergence (no grogu, no cee, ezra still has his arm, etc.), choking/breathplay, biting, squirting, one (1) slap, lots of tension, panties(?), mutual pining, probably OOC, pure filth tbh. no use of y/n.

I am unhinged about this. DinEz is my favorite ship and I adore MMF threesome fics with them. This was breathtakingly good.

Thy Kingdom Cum - Ezra one shot by @absurdthirst and @storiesofthefandomlovers

The new priest's arrival to your parish has you doubting your commitment to God.

Blasphemy, inaccuracies with nuns/religious inaccuracies, religious guilt, lust, desire, demonic possession, dark intentions, sexual corruption, loss of innocence, virgin reader, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, sex in a confessional, cock riding, pregnancy, mentions of prophesy, end of times, unnatural childbirth, death

Always love a good demon!Ezra, and I loved the steep fall into corruption little bird went through ugh. This was so good. The innocence of reader and the depravity of Ez was such a good contrast. I love this

Sit Back, Baby - Frankie one shot by @almostfoxglove

You've got a crush on your neighbor across the hall and finally get the chance to show him you care.

Smut (m!oral), pwp, drinking (not during smut), sorta sub!Frankie.soft,

subby frankie is forever one of my favorites. I just wanna take care of him dammit. Can't resist a good blowjob fic either. All around wonderful in every way.

Bad Idea - Javi P one shot by @murder-wife

A lil quickie on the couch never hurt anyone

fingering, unprotected PIV, panty sniffing, couch sex, the sex blanket makes an appearance! *LEAVING SOME THINGS UNTAGGED TO AVOID SPOILERS* proceed with caution, nothing dark, everyone is of age and constenting

I love everything about this. The whole premise is perfect. The plot twist??? to die for, truly.

You Can Be My Daddy - Javi P one shot by @thesummerpetrichor

Your soon to be husband leaves you at the altar, but you should have guessed since the practice seemed to run in the family. It’s hard to be upset however, when his father comes to repent for not only his own but his son’s wrong doings. Aka fiancé’s dad Javi fucking you in your wedding dress after his son ditches you at the altar.

Minimal editing, unspecified but thicc and legal age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, insane dirty talk, toxic father son relationship, reader is delulu, praise kink, petnames, sex in front of a mirror, veil pulling??, a few spanks, creampie, Javi fucks you into the mattress, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!].

Getting left at the altar sucks, but getting fucked into the mattress by your would-be father-in-law makes it alllll better. God damn this was hot

A Litany of Lethe - Javi P one shot by @kiwisbell

Working on his father’s ranch, Javier Peña tries to leave Colombia behind. The new housekeeper reminds him how much he enjoys a challenge.

post-narcos s3 canon, slow burn, catch the much ado references and i’ll give u a cookie, second chance, enemies to lovers, i take liberties with some geography, javi suffers from foot-in-the-mouth syndrome, angsty javier, angsty reader, angsty everything, bickering, tension of all varieties, emotional constipation from both parties, chucho being wingman no. 1, discussions of past sexual relationships, mentions of domestic abuse (not against reader), implied child neglect/abuse, grovelling king javier peña, we call him grovi, implied age gap, it's been 10 years since javi left for colombia bc i said so, reader has hair, javi is a munch, oral sex (f receiving), grinding, bickering during sex, javi is not a brat tamer but he is a brat handler (thank u mya), unprotected PIV, creampie, dirty talk, fingering, pussy pronouns, lots of biting, javi vampire confirmed??

This reads like literature or poetry or some shit. I loved Javi's internal monologue so much. I loved getting inside his head like that. The smut is so worth the wait too ugh. I love a long ass one shot <3

Touch Tank - Javi P one shot by @thundermartini

Javier helps you get over a little self-confidence crisis.

it’s self indulgent porn with plot guys. smut, kissing, oral sex - f! receiving + m! receiving, shower sex, mention of piv sex, allusion to vaginal fingering, established relationship, domestic fluff, pet names, soft!javi, blue shirt javi (but picture any javi you want), a lot of feelings again, reader has hair, insecure reader (mentions of her not fitting in the lingerie she chose as she would love to but no further descriptions so you can imagine whatever you want).

Obsessed with Javi being into lingerie, first of all. I blame @iamskyereads Lie to Me for that. Secondly, this was so hot and sweet. I love how they make each other feel better. So fucking cuuuuute

Me on You - Joel one shot by @luxurychristmaspudding

after a night out dancing and a lift home turns into something more, you learn something about your dad's buddy.

it's smut, y'all. everything you've come to expect. respectable age gap (10 years ish), tiny bit of spanking, one (1) gentle pussy slap, lil bit of daddy kink, joel miller eats it from the back (oral (f&m)), edging, unprotected piv (do better), creampie, feelings, joel miller's whore mouth.

Joel Miller fucks and it is so unbearably hot

Lost in the Darkness - Joel one shot by softlybarnes (AO3)

Joel wants you. The only problem is you're the on the arm of one of his partners.

Angst, Abuse, Abusive Relationships (not between reader/joel), Smut, Biting, Insecurity, Self-Worth Issues, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Anxiety, Dissociation, Canon-Typical Violence, Torture, Blood and Injury, Past Sexual Assault, Character Death

Ohhhh I love this. The way they're both fucking feral ugh. It's so good.

There's a Place and Time - Joel one shot by @penvisions

Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

age gap (joel is mid 30's / reader is mid 20's), angst, biting words, argumentative language, joel is a lil meanie but so is reader, grief, off-screen loss, depictions of depression, comfort, mushy stuff

Joel has foot in mouth disease lmaooo. I liked the depiction of grief in this a lot. Very sweet fic with some excellent banter and even better softness.

So Much to Lose - Joel series by @auteurdelabre

Newly settled into Jackson city and forced to go on patrols with the miserable Joel Miller sets off a chain of events and encounters that have you questioning everything, including your own heart.

Enemies to Lovers, Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Dom/sub Undertones, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Eventual Happy Ending, Shameless Smut, Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fingerfucking, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Face-Fucking, Lesbian Ellie (The Last of Us), Drama & Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Outdoor Sex, Forced Bonding, Cooking, Guitars, Love Confessions, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Trauma

The thing I really love about this fic is the way the side characters are integrated and just as important as reader and Joel. Jennifer, Luke, Ellie, Maria -- they're all important. I also love the slow transition from mean!Joel to soft!Joel, the way it isn't exactly linear, and the motivations behind his behavior. It's so rewarding to watch him open up over time UGH. So Good.

Scarlet Haze - Joel series by @katiexpunk

Life in the QZ was fairly predictable. That was, until Joel Miller showed up on your doorstep covered in blood. Since then, you've helped him more times than you can count. Now it's his turn to return the favor.

SEX POLLEN. SEX POLLEN. SEX POLLEN. Set in the TLOU universe in the Boston QZ. Buckle the fuck up for a lot of filthy, feral smut. Check chapter warnings for specifics.

GOD I love sex pollen fics. so so much. This series is unfinished but you get smut in part two and it's entirely worth it. So fucking good.

I Know You By Heart - Joel/Ezra series by @sixhours

Joel and Ellie settle into their new lives in Jackson but it's not the easiest transition. Thankfully Jackson has a counselor to help with that.

Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), canon-compliant with season 1, SMUT, gay sex, anal sex, anal fingering, blowjobs, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, light angst, angst with a happy ending, romance, alcoholic behavior, age gap (~10ish years so barely a thing)

Obsessed with this pairing. Ezra and Cee in Jackson?? I love it so much. The smut is so good... Like... SO GOOD. I love me some gay pedro boys and I love gay dads in love. HMU for more gay dads in love fics, bc I have a couple recs.

Fortnight - Lucien one shot by @pedgito

it was never a favor, allowing him to take up space in your apartment. but, time after time, he finds his way back and somehow, it brings an unexpected normalcy to your life.

the uninvited spoilers, set post-movie, roommates to lovers, enemies to lovers, reader works in the film industry, financial hardship, shitty living situations, lucien is a schmooze and a drunk, but also a sweetheart, angst, feelings, reader has shit luck with dating, there's also smut in here somewhere i swear (oral, couch sex, unprotected piv, all the good stuff)

Oh Lucien the pathetically sexy man that you are. This was everything I wanted it to be and more.

Prima Nocta - Marcus Acacius one shot by @fuckyeahdindjarin

Tomorrow, you will marry your husband-to-be. But tonight - it belongs to his father.

DUB CON only due to nature of prima nocta, both parties enthusiastically consent, twist on prima nocta, unspecified age gap, loss of virginity, dirty talk, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex, unrealistic descriptions of first sexual experience, all manners of historical inaccuracies and linguistic anachronisms sorry not sorry, ignores the events of the movie so you can consider this an AU, Marcus is widowed and has a son, shall we call this bfd: Ancient Rome version lmao

This is the first Marcus Acacius fic I've read and it was fucking incredible. Def will be reading more of him from now on. UGHGHGGH this was so hot.

Cosmic Love - Marcus Acacius/Marcus Pike one shot by @kedsandtubesocks

a missing statue, a handsome ancient roman general, an equally handsome museum visitor - and you caught in the magical (and wonderful) mess of it all

MAJOR GLADIATOR 2 SPOILERS. time travel AU, magic elements, pining & yearning, fluff but with touches of angst, implied age gap (Acacius being older than both reader & Marcus), light use of gendered language, bi!Marcus Acacius & bi!Marcus Pike, brief mention of death & existential questioning, spicy themes, smut (threesome, m!oral, one moment of spitting) M/M/F & M/M dynamics, polyamorous exploration that leads to eventual poly relationship, no use of y/n

I love a time travel AU, it reminds me of Kate and Leopold. This fic was so cute, had just the right touch of angst, and was so hot UGH. I loved how sweet Acacius was and how down bad Pike was and just... everything really

Strawberry Sugar - Oberyn one shot by @guiltyasdave

Your boyfriend spoils you on your birthday morning. In some... unexpected ways.

explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, food play, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), ridiculous amounts of fluff

Delicious, filthy, fluffy, just wonderful, really.

Happy Reading!

[tremendouscreationperson]

So this is a bit odd but Logan x Death!Reader

There be deaths in here, blood, pains, etc so be careful

Fun fact: I was originally thinking of this for Din Djarin

It had been so long since he had seen you. Far too long. Logan had missed you with every day, every hour, minute and second that passed. You were his love.

Simultaneously the best and worst thing to happen to him.

The ‘best’ because he hadn't ever thought it possible to find his other half. Hadn't believed in the notion of a Soulmate yet you were the proof.

The ‘worst’ because to meet you was strenuous. It literally meant death. He had to be around tragedy to glimpse you and die to touch you.

He couldn't remember the first time you met. You were able to tell him pieces of his life which helped close some of the gaps in his memory.

There had been a car crash, the flames were sweltering as firefighters tried to quash them. Logan didn't raise his head to the wreckage, partly wanting to be respectful but mostly because he could smell the corpse. It was only when he felt eyes piercing his very being that he glanced around eventually landed on you.

Your hair was long and waving in a nonexistent breeze, you wore a dark headpiece which matched your frankly odd - but who was he (wearing yellow Spandex every other day) to judge? - outfit. It was a black skin tight bodysuit adorned with green. What in the Mutant hell were you?

Logan was ready to give you a sneer and fuck off but you smiled sweetly at him, even waving your fingers in a ‘hello’.

He waited, now curious, were you someone he knew from before?

You glided over with unearthly grace and once again offered a smile. “James, it has been decades.”

Logan's brows furrowed. Who the fuck was James? Instead of asking that he opted for the more diplomatic: “Do I know you?”

Your sweet demeanour fell, a flash of hurt covered by a blank slate. “You do.” He watched as your eyes scanned him and then refocused. “You have lost your memories.”

He gave an impatient huff in response.

“We were acquaintances.” Your voice wasn't familiar but his body had relaxed enough to know that was true. “You gave me my name.”

“You called me the wrong one.” He accused. The dog tags he wore told him his name was Logan, he was Logan. Whoever James was, was lost.

“You were James Howlett when we first met.” The flames were gone behind you, the charred body carted away whilst the morbidly fascinated crowd watched on as police took details. “I took your father. It was premature, I thought he could have more time, but I took him and got him safely to the other side."

“Other side?” He quirked a brow, what were you on about, there was no ‘other side’.

“I am a Reaper.” The words were spoken matter-of-factly, as though they weren't batshit.

“Yeah sure.” He rolled his eyes, completely done with this level of nonsense. “Look bub I ain't buying what you're selling so I suppose I'll see you next time I get in a fight.” And with that Logan walked away grumbling.

~~

There was no God, with all his suffering, Logan knew that to be true and in the not-real almighty's cruel twist of fate he was now eating his words.

Your pleasant face hovered over him as he was sprawled on the floor.

“Logan.” You greet.

He didn't have a name for you. “Bub.” He nodded, extending his hand for you to take.

“You can't touch me whilst you're alive.” You pointedly kept your hands behind your back.

“I thought you were a 'Reaper'?” He hoisted himself up, his torso and leg were covered in still warm blood.

“You did briefly die but you never remain dead.” You clarify for him. He knew he healed but he- he didn't know that he couldn't die. Was he immortal? “It took mere seconds for your body to heal.”

“Why are you here then?” He pried the sticky shirt from his chest and cut away at the material.

“I had a point to prove.” You wink before adding, “I thought we'd have more time.”

“More time?” This was trippy. So - if you were to be believed, which he was still very much on the fence about - you were a ‘Reaper’ and he couldn't die and you had had a previous relationship(?) he was unaware of.

A soft sigh escaped you, “sometimes you can pass the first veil, you can enter limbo where some souls linger. We commune there. Would have immediately proved my point.”

“Let me get this straight.” He was now standing before you, bloodied and shirtless, wearing a big confused frown. “I can't die?”

“No. Strictly speaking you are an abomination but you grew on me.” There was a fondness in the crinkle of your eyes and smile lines.

“And how long have we known each other?”

“We first met as I said when I took your father in the 1800s but it wasn't until the 1900s when we began to actively converse.”

Logan's eyes were wide. He knew his healing was good and, yeah, he had just learnt that he was immortal but learning that he was 200+ was quite something.

“I'm sorry, perhaps I should have eased you into that. I forget myself.” At least you had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Uh, it's- it's alright.” He must have been in shock because he just let someone off the hook.

~~

It took seven more visits for him to realise the two of you had had a special relationship. There was something about you that wedged its way into his mind. Usually because of a throw away comment that blew his mind. Such as the fact that there was a ‘plethora of afterlives’ as well as a ‘pantheon of Gods’. It was weird to have that confirmed. Every religion was based off truth and there were countless forgotten ones that would house the non believers, there were options for reincarnation and by fuck this was all bonkers.

The worst part, though, was that you were funny. He liked listening to you explain your world and he was in awe of your beauty. It hadn't gone unnoticed the first time he laid eyes on you but now he could really appreciate your ethereal splendour. Your eyes and lips had dark makeup that he wasn't sure was makeup - did a Reaper put make up on? - and you gave off an omnipotent air. But you were effortlessly funny, you always found a way to make him laugh and he prided himself on his gruff exterior.

“So who is really in charge then?” He had asked, walking next to you in a forest. Logan had found you stroking the neck of a deer, your face forlorn as he spied the shitty placement of the arrow. He hated hunters.

“In charge of what?” Your palms were folded in front of you, they were pitch black which faded at your wrist and blended into your natural skin tone.

“Out of the Gods.” He clarified. “Who do you work for?”

You turned in consideration and then replied with “I do not work for a God and there is no ‘in charge’.” You paused. “Plus a God can die but you can't kill Death.”

He chuckled, his brows shooting upwards. “Wow, so I'm hanging out with the big guns? With Death? I thought you were a Reaper.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I am a Reaper and I have taken Gods to their afterlives'.”

“No, there's a difference between ‘Death’ and ‘a Reaper’.” He argued.

“Would it make you feel differently if I told you I was Death?” He had the feeling the two of you had previously had this conversation, there was a pang of familiarity just out of reach.

“No.”

Your lip pulled. “Good.”

~~

“How can you spare all this time for me?” Logan was genuinely curious. You'd appeared to him as he finished up in the Danger Room.

“I am not alone in my job. There are others that help, Yama, Azrael, Thanatos.”

“Why do you spare all this time for me?” He kept his gaze solely on the cigar he held. Observing it between his fingers.

“I enjoy your company.” You simply stated. “There have been others that have healed, that have cheated Death but none like you. The whole idea of you used to irritate me, I believed it was a sick joke at first. That you were sent to vex me but I now think you are a blessing. As I said you named me, you gave me something that made me more than a Reaper. I am still impartial, if I am needed I will be there, but I now tend to stop and watch the sunrise merely because I... want to. You gave me that.”

What does one say to that? You openly admitted that he gave you freedoms in your dutiful life. Was what you had a life? Were you alive? “I think I could've come up with something better than Y/N.”

“No.” You adamantly shook your head. “Y/N is the kindest name I've had in a long time.”

He didn't know how to deal with your eyes. They were pure, affection radiated from them, he didn't deserve that level of affection from a being such as yourself.

If you were a girl in a bar he would've had you in bed by now but you weren't. You were different, he would always be with you in some respect because death was everywhere. He had to approach this differently. He had to befriend you first, which was terrifying as he had no experience with that.

He was open to the idea of getting you in bed, of course he was.

Look at you.

You were fucking beautiful.

And funny.

And scary.

And powerful.

Everything he liked in a woman, wrapped in a gorgeous skintight outfit.

When had he stopped seeing you as an acquaintance and started seeing you as a lover?

“Logan are you alright?” You quirked your head. “That wasn't weird to say was it?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It wasn't weird to say, sorry I just- glad I could help.”

He was fucked.

~~

Logan was being tortured by some shitheel of a Mutant. He didn't even know what the kid had against him but this was different. The kid had been brought in to keep Logan down. To force him to stay dead for as long as it took to take down the others.

Which would've been terrifying if not for: “Logan!”

He spun around, his body lighter than it had ever been, and saw you standing with a concerned expression.

The room he was currently in was still there but the features were blurred, out of focus. He could see the vague shape of his body at his feet but the only in focus objects were you and himself.

“Is this Limbo?”

“Yes.” You knelt to observe the body he couldn't see, your hands hovered at a respectable distance. “This isnt- you need to get back.”

Confused, he asked: “Wait, isn't this what you said we did?”

“Not like this. Not with you being forced-” You cut yourself off.

“So I'm finally here but it's not right?” He couldn't win with you. Wasn't this what you wanted? You'd mentioned the veil twice and that he ‘had passed it before’, he was interested to know what the big deal was and now being lectured. Fucking brilliant.

“Logan, it'll never be right for you to be here.” You stood to your full height, closer than you've ever allowed him to be. “A minute or two here and there in the past was-” He was staring intensely at you. “What?”

“I-I can feel your breath.” He never could out there. You were always there and not there. Half in the living world but never fully.

“Of course you can, you're in my domain. We can even touch in here.” To amplify your point your fingers caught his wrist.

Logan's eyes flickered to your hands and back to your face. Putting two and two together, “You liked us being here. Where we can touch. Did we ever…?” He left the question open ended but he needed to know.

Hesitantly you admit, “We've shared a kiss.”

“Why didn't you mention that?” That should've been the first fucking thing you told him. His strange teenage crush on you was immediately validated.

“You didn't remember, you might not have wanted us to.” You shrug one shoulder. “I am Death.”

Logan placed a palm on your cheek, thumb caressing the soft flesh, and the other on your hip. He could touch you here. Of course you liked it when he visited. Fuck he liked to visit.

Your eyes tried to remain on his but they kept landing on his lips.

He leant down, slow enough for you to pull back - although he'd bet money that you wouldn't - and just as his nose met yours he gasped awake on the floor.

“Fuck!” He growled.

“Tha’ no way to thank ‘he Gambit for saving yo’ ass.”

~~

The almost kiss was seared in his brain. The soft look on your face as your eyes fluttered shut and your lips ghosted his own.

He was angry at Gambit for a solid month which wasn't exactly fair and no one knew about you so it seemed worse but the anger was valid.

He had almost kissed you.

Logan made a point to jot down the name of that mutant - Ignatius Clartion - in case any future opportunity didn't naturally occur.

He could always try Rogue if not.

Look at him, looking for ways to kill himself for long enough to make out with Death.

Fuck this was weird.

But he wasn't above that.

What made this worse was that you had taken a longer hiatus than usual, so he was left to stew alone which resulted in him taking every mission he could. Logan threw himself into the fray with even less care than before. Even considered entering the fight rings he used to dominate in just for a few seconds passed the veil.

He knew he shouldn't. You might not be best pleased if he turned up from basically committing suicide just for a make out session. But it was tempting.

He started sleeping around less, he went weeks without a fuck and that was hard.

All for nothing because you were gone.

~~

“Logan.” Your voice roused him from slumber. “Logan.” He had to blink a few times before his eyes could fully open.

“Y/N.” He grumbled.

“What are you doing?” Your tone was accusatory. “You almost died from kidney failure and that is saying something.”

“Just a couple drinks.” He sat up and flicked the table lamp on. His room was a mess but he could blame that on the whiskey and if you happened to notice his naked chest then that was a bonus. He was so fucked.

“Don't do that again.” You ordered before taking a step back.

“Wait!” He stopped you vanishing just in time. “Are we not gonna even talk about last time?”

“You're right.” You nodded and worried your lip. “You were in a prolonged state of death and I took advantage, I'm sorry. I have tried to keep my distance, I didn't realise quite how inappropriate it was to-”

Logan's chuckle cut you off. “Hold up. I almost kissed you and you're apologising for it?”

“It was an abuse of power.” You inform.

“No, it was almost a really fun time.” He shuffled to the edge of the bed, setting the duvet aside and sitting in only his boxers. “I'm pissed it was cut short, how do I enter the veil correctly?”

Perplexity was splattered across your features. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. “Logan, you have to die. There is no correct way.”

“I can't die.” He offered.

“It wouldn't be right.” You argue.

He realised something, “Why can't I touch you?”

“I cannot touch anything. My touch corrupts, decays, withers.”

“I can't die.” He repeated.

“But you could live your eternal life in a state of paraplegia. My touch could cause the metal of your bones to poison you over time, your skeleton could get so heavy it breaks down, your skin could rot away and you'd live as a corpse.”

“Or my healing factor counteracts you.”

“You can only see me because you have died, even that is taboo, and here I am arguing with you about kissing. Logan it isn't the natural order of things. I shouldn't have admitted that to you. It was better when you couldn't remember me.”

“No.” He vowed, anger rising. “You can't decide that.”

Your shoulders sagged. “I'm trying to keep you safe.”

“Fuck that.” He made a fist in the centre of his chest and unsheathed his claws. He coughed up blood as your eyes bulged and suddenly the room was blurred. There was no longer the taste of iron in his mouth and he stood, immediately crossing the space between you and joining your lips.

You moaned against his tongue before remembering yourself and pulling away slightly - your foreheads still touching - “this is wrong.” You mutter as he chases your lips and once again the two of you are sharing breaths. His tongue glides against yours and you let out another moan, melting in his arms.

Logan breaks the kiss only to trail his lips downwards, leaving sloppy kisses against your jaw and nipping at your neck.

The breathy sigh you release is all he needs in life. He wants this every day. Needs it.

“Feels pretty right to me.” He licks a stripe up your neck and you are forced to agree.

His hands have been frantically grabbing whatever they could due to his need to memorise every part of you. The material of your bodysuit was soft and allowed him to knead your breasts and hips without a barrier.

Logan tried to reign in his frantic movements but as he felt the fierce woman become putty in his hands he couldn't help but tilt your head exposing more of your neck to bite at the tender flesh once, nipping softly around it and kissing the mark he made. He had to mark his territory.

These needs were new.

Never before had he wanted to claim someone. Wanted others to know.

But now...

Seeing you let him do whatever he wanted was stirring something dark within him.

You were literally more powerful than anything in this world, in the universe, and he wanted everyone to know - you were his.

Were you his?

You better be.

He wanted you to be.

How would that work?

Logan coughed awake and let out a frustrated growl.

“Don't vanish!” He yelled sitting up to see that you hadn't. You were still here which was a good sign. “Let me-”

“No.” You stopped him, “Don't do that again, I'll be here if you do die but don't commit suicide for me.” The words were undermined by your fingers touching your lips.

Logan's frown was so large that he could see it in his line of vision. He really wanted to fuck you.

“Please.” You add, stepping forward and actually sitting on the bed. Again there was a distance between the two of you but you were trying.

~~

The whole ‘don’t commit suicide’ thing was bullshit.

Logan had to be sneaky about finding his ways to see you.

You always greeted him with a warm embrace and a hot passionate kiss.

He hated waking up. Which a therapist would argue was not healthy at all but Logan did not give a fuck.

It was noticed by the X-Men that he seemed to have a death wish and he was even approached by Ororo and Jean one day about his mental health. He was thankful that his friends were so caring but the more questions they asked the harder it was to explain.

And so he dialled back.

He ensured when he could die it would be a longer death.

The frequency was less but the time was more. A better compromise.

You were on the battlefield collecting poor innocent civilians and hung around to talk to him. “I know that I can't die but is there any way you can control how long I die for?” It was becoming a running joke amongst the X-Men that Logan talked to the dead. He looked insane.

“I-I can't control that but I do have a certain skillset that I've been thinking of introducing to you.” You wring your hands. “I don't like the idea of it but at least you wouldn't be thrown back without warning.”

“Tell me.”

“Time isn't linear, I can distort it, I can make one minute here be as long as I want there. I could elongate the moment.”

The grin that split his face was infectious. You tried and failed not to look pleased. “Next time, do that.”

~~

The death was fairly ordinary. He was riding Scott's bike home when the front wheel hit a patch of ice and skidded, flinging the bike to the right. Logan landed with a harsh thud on his neck.

He'd never been so excited.

You made good on your promise and displayed your other power of teleportation. Bringing him to his room.

Now that there was time he was going to take as long as he wanted.

There would be no frantic rushing, no, he would spread you out and treat you how you deserved.

Fuck was he going to be your first?

Did beings like you even have the concept of virginity?

You stood awkwardly at his side, your inner debate plain to see.

“Y/N.” He brought you to the present, with a hand on your waist.

“Logan.” You responded by placing your palm on his chest.

“Have you ever?” He wiggles his brows.

You huffed. “You wouldn't know this because of how easy going and encouraging I have been but this is not a common occurrence.”

He liked your sarcasm but loved what you said. You were going to be all his.

There wouldn't be another.

You belonged to him. The two of you knew that.

Logan's right hand found your neck and he tilted you to meet your lips.

This was the first slow kiss between you. He pecked at your lips before sliding his tongue along them, you eagerly opened your mouth and he explored. This time was borrowed and he would gladly accept the cost if it meant he could keep giving you leisurely kisses.

Your fingers flexed against his chest as he kissed you, the slow rhythm drove you equally as wild.

Logan kissed your nose, he loved your nose, then your forehead.

You took advantage of this angle and placed a tentative peck against his exposed neck. You could feel him stiffen and worried he was angry but Logan asked you to do it again.

And so you firmly repeated the action, giving his jaw the same attention he gave yours.

Your tongue ran across the flesh and you could feel the prickle of his stubble.

All these new sensations were maddening. He sensed that you were excited and purposely rubbed the stubble on you causing a full body laugh.

“No!” You wriggled out from the tickly chin but his grip on you tightened. “That's not fair.” You giggled.

Logan adored the sound.

He was well and truly yours.

“I've just discovered the one way I'm superior to you, I am going to expose it.” He smirks down, tempted to tickle you again but holding back.

“If I knew that this was what you were planning I wouldn't have suggested to bend the rules. Maybe I should send you ba-” He cut you off with another kiss. You weren't serious in your words so allowed the interruption.

Logan trailed his fingers up and down your body, making you twitch again but with a new sensation. This was slightly tickly but the new heat in your abdomen override that and made your back arch. Pressed you into him.

A palm found your spine and pulled you closer before it migrated down to grab a handful of your ass. He kneaded the flesh, fingers lower than socially acceptable and they found themselves closer to your pussy than he had actually intended. Oh well, Logan made circles with his middle finger and found where he wanted to be.

The whole time his hand was exploring he was lazily kissing you only stopping once your mouth fell open and you mewed against his lips. Your face contorted in pleasure and he couldn't help but watch.

“I think we should get out of our clothes.” He spoke lowly, to not ruin your high.

Your eyes flickered open and you nodded once, extracting yourself and with a wave of your hand you were bare for him.

Logan ripped the leather jacket from his back and tore the shirt in one swift movement. Eyes not once straying from your form. Your hands were still dark and your face still had the make up on but otherwise you were bare and he was going to wank to this image for the rest of his life.

There was nothing that could make him forget you now. What had happened to make him forget you in the first place?

His belt and trousers fell and he stepped out of his boots, ready for you.

You weren't nervous but he could tell there were things that you were conscious about, having never done them before, so he promised he'd make this perfect.

“Let's sit.” He led you to the bed and sat with you. “Let me know if I'm doing anything wrong.”

“But I won't know.” You countered.

“If it hurts, it's wrong.” He concluded.

You nodded, biting your lip. “You'll do the same?”

He didn't embarrass you with the scoff that tried to claw its way out, merely giving you a nod.

Logan brought you to him again, kissing your neck. Sucking and nipping his way from your left ear to the right. He then journeyed downwards, his hands guiding your body to lay on the bed as he kissed his way to your core.

Logan spent extra attention on your chest, how could he not? Your breasts were glorious. He sucked one nipple as he squeezed the other and your body reacted naturally to the feelings.

He breathed in your scent, a low growl rumbling in his chest as it mixed with your slick.

Leaving your now marked tits he carried on down past your stomach and pubic bone to where he had longed to be. He parted your legs and drooled.

Your cunt was breathtaking. It was moist and free of any hair - not that he would care - and it just invited him in. It did feel naughty to defile such beauty but it was more of a crime to leave you without an orgasm or twenty.

“You ready baby?” He asked, simultaneously lowering himself and lifting your legs over his shoulders.

“Y-eah.” Your breath hitched.

Logan licked from your core to clit and you audibly gasped, hands clutching his hair.

“Sorry.” You detangled them.

“Put them back.” He ordered, “I wanna feel you. If I'm not doing what you want me to, make me.”

He knew he kept thinking it but he had never wanted anyone the way he wanted you.

It was intoxicating to know the two of you were so compatible. He was drunk on you and there was no AA that would be able to help.

Logan buried his face at your core, lapping up your slick. It was sweet. For someone whose touch could only decay you tasted like an angelic being.

He used a hand to spread your folds so he could get his tongue deeper, licking inside.

His hand ached to get closer to the action, finger playing with your core as he spun his tongue against your clit. He knew he would have to ease in, so he tried to slowly introduce his finger by running it across the hole, teasing you, making you want more as he did the same to your clit.

Your thighs were ridged against his ears in an attempt to clamp shut but he used his spare arm to hold one open, hand intertwining with one of yours.

The finger slipped in past the nail as he sucked your clit to distract you. You were dripping with slick so he met zero resistance but he didn't want you to feel any discomfort.

He came up for air - to watch your face - as he pumped the finger in and out, each time going deeper.

Your chest was rapid and he tried to not lose himself in the view but it was hard when your tits were right there.

Logan remembered himself and kissed your inner thigh, adding another finger. Your body shuddered with pleasure as his facial hair scratched your sensitive skin.

Logan was quite content with laying between your legs watching himself disappear in you but he had a job to do. He was going to make you cum, then he was going to do it again and again.

His lips met yours and he pulled his fingers from you to suck the juices. He would need this weekly. Monthly at a push. You tasted fucking perfect.

There was no-one that was better suited to him.

“I feel-I feel really hot.” You told him as he re-entered the fingers, adding a third.

“I'll take care of you.” He promised, quickening the pace.

It didn't take long before your moans increased and you were panting louder and louder before you let a breathy groan and came around his fingers.

He wasn't done with you though.

He kept pumping in and out, working you through the orgasm, forcing it to continue long after you began twitching and tugging his hair.

“It's too much.”

Logan hated those words but did concede, pulling out finally and pushing himself up your body. Your legs fell from his shoulders to his waist, his dick inches from you, he could feel the warmth.

“You okay?” He cupped your cheek with his dry hand.

You nodded, speaking out of breath, “It was really good.”

“Good?” He sassed.

“Really really good.” Your cheeks heated and you crossed your legs around his waist. It was an innocent move on your part to keep them from falling but he was drawn into you and brushed against you.

Your squeak and his growl harmonised.

“You want more?” He nuzzled your nose with his.

“I want more.”

He made you promise to tell him if it was too much before he gathered your slick with his head and rubbed it across his dick. He eased his way deeper in and your body went rigid.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Nodding earnestly. “Jus- just big.”

He did not even attempt to be bashful, instead basked in the compliment. “All yours.”

Logan managed to rock back and forth pushing himself further into your hot core and the two of you were in too much pleasure to speak.

Three thirds of the way there he could feel the most resistance but he played with your clit and kissed your neck, your breasts, your lips to distract you from any pain.

He took his time but finally he was sheathed. Logan gave you as much time as you needed, your brows pulled in pleasure.

“Open your eyes.” He begged.

Your lips were glistening, cheeks hot, eyes glazed. You looked truly fucked out and he hasn't been fucked you yet.

Logan kissed you and ever so slowly did his first full thrust, your lips parted in a silent ‘oh’ and he had to thrust again.

The ‘oh’ was not silent this time. With each thrust he sped up and suddenly the two of you were fucking.

Your string of somewhat lucid “oh, ohoh, oh, yes, fuck, Lo.” spurred him on. He would get you there as many times as you'd let him.

He flicked your nipple and you gave him a half-annoyed-half-horny look.

Logan bent to capture your lips and you eagerly met his, your hands - which had been clutching the slightly in focus sheets - cradled his cheeks. Treating him with care that juxtaposed the way he was hammering into you.

The kiss ended with you gasping for breath when your second orgasm erupted, it was unexpected but he wouldn't complain.

Logan wanted to last longer he really did but the way your pussy clutched him, suffocated him, made that nearly impossible.

At least he had zero refractory period.

Logan came inside you, where it was warm and doughy, with a bite of your neck. He worked through his orgasm and finally halted his movements. He tried to keep his weight off you but you forced him down, forced him to hug you. Your lips kissing his temple as he caught his breath.

~~

The two of you were sitting on a park bench, people watching. This was quite possibly the longest time the two of you had spent together.

“Look.” Logan nodded towards a young girl that fell. She sniffled at the scraped knee but immediately stood and booted the soccer ball. “She’s got balls.”

“The human spirit is hard to break.” You comment, leaning your chin on a palm. “It’s commendable.”

Logan watched you out of the corner of his eye, again struck by your beauty. He could write essay after essay about you.

“Do you ever wish you were one?” The question fell from his lips before his brain could catch up. Was that rude? Nah, you’d know what he meant.

“Yes.” Your head swivelled to him. “I haven’t the need to eat or sleep, I’ve never been cut or sunburnt.”

“I think that’s sweet.” His lips upturned, tongue swiping across his teeth. “I could take you on a date if you wanted. I know you don’t need to eat but it couldn't hurt to taste something, right?”

“You’d look insane.” That wasn't a no.

“I'll put on an earpiece and pretend I'm on the phone.”

The shy smile you wore was endearing. “I’ve never been on a date.” You bit your lip. “It's a lovely idea but I'll have to decline. The food would probably rot in my mouth.”

“What about the cinema?”

Your eyes left him, landing back on the field, intently watching the humans interact mundanely. “I suppose it couldn't hurt. As long as no one touches me.”

“What if I kill myself and we can make out?”

You had to restrain yourself from slapping him.

~~

Storm knocked once and then proceeded to let herself into his room. “Logan I'm worried.”

“By all means, make yourself at home.” He snarked.

“You are worrying the team.” She ignored him and sat on his bed, plucked the book from his hands and gave him a look. “You're reading?”

“Was trying to.” He swiped at the book but Ororo kept it out of reach.

“Can you explain what's happening? You are talking to yourself, running headfirst into danger and I haven't seen you flirting, not even in jest!” She smoothed a wrinkle in his duvet. “Is there something I need to do? Someone I need to call?”

Logan had had this same talk time and time again. Perhaps he should just tell someone? Poor Rogue had even started to check up on him. He forced out a sigh and crossed his arms. “It's complicated.”

“We're mutants, everything is complicated.”

The two of them sat in silence for a while, merely staring at each other. How should he begin? What would she think? “I'm seeing Death.”

She nodded, “we all have to face death at one point in our lives. I know it's hard but there are people that can help.” Bless her.

Okay, maybe a different approach. “I've been seeing someone.”

Storm's brows met her hairline. “Yeah? This is why you've been worried about death?”

“No. It's- she's-” He rubbed his neck. “I can't die.” Storm frowned at the subject change. “I can't die and she is Death. I've been seeing Death.”

To her credit Storm's face stayed still, she had no judgement or ridicule or even disbelief but she didn't have acceptance either. “Is this a joke?”

“No.” He spoke with his hands. “I've been going insane because I love this woman and she's brilliant and funny and kind and gorgeous and generous. She is not a Grim Reaper, she is sweet, she is the cycle of life and death. It's fucking chaos. She's a literal God- no she's above them because even God's can die. Oh yeah, Storm there's Gods. Plural! And no one here can see her. I look insane because I can and to even touch her I have to be dead. Fuck, I need a fucking drink.”

Storm let the words settle in the air, taking everything he said in. “It doesn't sound overly healthy to get into a relationship where you have to die to hold the person.”

“Gambit and Rogue make it work.” He mused. “She's not a fan, either.”

“Logan, I'm going to need to process everything you've said and I will come back with questions.”

~~

The team were made aware of Logan's partner. It was mortifying but at least none of them could see how actually whipped he was with you.

If you could be perceived by them he'd be done for.

But he longed for it?

It was a strange realisation that now they knew about you he really craved to show you off, yet he was concerned that they'd know you were his weakness.

If you were human, the Brotherhood, AIM, HYDRA, ALKALI and whoever else would've killed you by now just to prove a point.

No, it was better to have you tucked away.

To keep you to himself, however selfish that was.

But it would be nice to have a photo of the two of you.

He had tried to convince you to enter a mall photo booth with him on your date. You adamantly refused because of the tight squeeze.

“I don't believe I'd show up anyway.” You waved him off. “But it was a nice idea, a very ‘couple’ thing to do.”

That prompted him to ask, “are we a couple?”

“Well, literally speaking we are a couple as we are two people but you don't mean that.” You sidestepped a group of teens. “I'd like to think you aren't just seeing me for my body, I know I'm not.”

“Not bending the rules for a good fuck?” That got him the dirtiest look from an old lady. “Sorry ma’am, Bluetooth.” He pointed to his ear.

“So does she decide when people die?” Jubilee questioned, lollypop in her mouth.

The team had taken to asking Logan anything they could about his ‘relationship’. He had answered the same questions again and again. It was boring.

“No, she just takes them to their destination.” He chewed some jerky. The two of them were sitting on one of the many sofas in Charles' mansion. On the floor in front of them, playing the Gamecube, sat Kurt and Kitty. “I think she knows when she's needed but doesn't do the killing?”

“That's trippy.” Kitty spoke without turning her head.

Logan huffed.

“Do you love her?” Kurt’s head swivelled to make lighting quick eye contact.

“Yeah.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Now can you all shuddup? I came here to drink and watch the game and you knuckleheads put a stop to that.”

“Well, they are playing a game.” Jubilee countered.

~~

Once more the two of you were sitting on a bench observing humankind. This time he had taken you to a museum. You told him about each era and how Vincent Van Gogh was hilariously funny, how Frida Kahlo hated socks, you even stated that you remembered a few of Leonardo’s ‘lovers’ as you passed a painting of Jesus.

“He doesn't look like that at all.” You scoffed at the painting. “It's a beautiful piece of art but that was Leo’s boyfriend.”

Logan had to keep his laughter low.

It wasn't until you both sat to take in an astonishing piece, almost the size of the entire wall, that a lady sat next to him. You had to slip off the bench to accommodate, which was something that you were used to so it didn't bother you.

She dropped her bag and a notepad, two tampons and a pencil fell. The pencil rolled over to his foot so Logan picked it up and handed it back to her.

“Sorry.” She pulled an embarrassed expression, stuffing the items back into her bag. “Not the first time I've made a complete ass of myself in front of a hot guy.”

“It's fine.” He shrugged, giving her a forced smile. “Could happen to anyone.”

“It's what I get for trying to be one of the greats.” She gestured to her notepad. “I can't help it, sometimes when I people watch I see the beauty that we have. It's like I have to try to emulate it, I have to at least do a sketch.”

He nodded along politely as she rambled on, pushing her glasses up her nose twice.

“It's a pleasant place to sketch, I guess.”

“Oh, it's brilliant.” She pointed subtly to the side. “Look there, those two on a date.” Logan followed her finger to see two boys looking at a bust, the shorter boy was bright pink and trying so hard not to smile whenever the taller looked over. The taller one took a quick photo of his partner stating that he was the ‘most perfect piece of art’. It was touchingly cheesy. “And there, they're having a hard time and that painting helps them. It provides comfort.” Logan followed again to see a person with short hair gazing longingly at a tiny painting. They had been standing there for a while, ignored by the masses, lost in thought.

“How do you know that?” He could see that she was right, without her words he would've thought that the person was merely looking at a painting but it made sense. Their shoulders had relaxed substantially, they were being comforted.

“Sit on the sidelines long enough, watch enough people, you get good at it.” She shrugged. “I'm Gladys. Before you say anything, it's an old name, yes I'm aware, it was my grandmother's.”

It felt passive aggressive not to say his, “Logan.”

She held out a hand and he shook it. “Nice to meet you!”

~~

“I've been thinking.” You spoke lying on the grass next to him. It was after midnight but the stars illuminated everything just enough to see.

“That's dangerous.” He joked, grinning wolfishly. He had you sitting on his face less than ten minutes ago and was still in a good mood. If only it was on this side, he ached to taste you on his tongue and smell you on his fingers alas the memory would have to suffice. He was fine with that.

“Har, har.” You rolled your eyes, facing the sky. “No, I've been thinking about what it is to be mortal.”

“Okay?” He kept his gaze on the side of your face.

“I don't think you're fulfilling your duty.” You were pointedly looking away from him.

“Huh? I don't have a duty?”

“Your duty is to live your life amongst your peers.”

“Is this abou-

“Is to not waste a day. To live life without regrets. To procreate, to have relationships with other humans, and to love and be loved.”

Logan propped himself up on his elbow, staring down at you. He forced eye contact. Shit. You were serious. “Okay, let's procreate.”

“Don't be stu-”

He lent closer to you than you'd allow. “You are the only one for me.”

You rolled out from under him, sitting up on your knees. “It's unnatural. I'm holding you back Logan.”

“We’ve had this conversation before. Why are we arguing again?” He was completely puzzled. Hadn't you both decided that this was okay? Why were you the one that got to tell him it wasn't? Why couldn't he have a say in this?

“I think we shouldn't see each other.”

“Fuck off.” He reached a hand out to hold yours, you snatched your wrist back.

“Logan!” You whisper-yelled.

“If this is about that lady at the museum, I don't know what to say. I was just being friendly.” Had he made an eternal being, an inevitable force, jealous?

“I just thought that that was a perfectly good way to meet your person. She was pleasant and confident. She should live a long life, she's a mutant so you have that in common.”

“You looked into her?”

“No,” You shook your head. “I can sense things. She had the smell of a mutant and her aura was blue so long life.”

Logan didn't know what else to do, he sat there scanning you.

He knew fundamentally that you were speaking logically. That you had always said this. Always said this was wrong. But it fucking sucked that you'd say it again when he decided to love you.

He didn't know when fondness became lust and eventually love but it had! He loved you.

He'd always love you.

And how exactly could he avoid you?

It was inevitable that he would die again and you would be there to guide him back into the land of the living.

You mumbled so low that even he almost didn't pick it up. “I've assigned you to Thanatos.”

“Unassign me.” He demanded, offended. “What was your game plan? Fuck me and dump me?”

“No.” You shook your head but he could see your internal debate. “I-I didn't intend-I just. I thought it was a good time to bring it up. You were relaxed. I thought you wouldn't mind.”

Oh. He was now fucking livid. “Wouldn't mind?!”

“Logan, you cannot possibly have a life with me.” You deflated, shoulders sagging. “It's not something I can have and you deserve more than scraps. You're worth more than that.”

The sniffle you let out completely floored him. He was no longer angry. He couldn't be.

You were upset.

You were crying!

He had never seen that.

“Cm’ere.” He waved you over.

To prove your point, “you can't hug me.”

Lightning quick Logan sliced his throat and the world blurred. “I don't care if you lecture me afterwards but come here.”

You fell into his embrace and sobbed quietly, Logan rubbed soft patterns into your back and kissed your head. He squeezed you tight and didn't intend to let go ever. He wouldn't. He would stay here forever if it was possible.

Eventually your shoulders ceased shaking and your breathing evened out. He almost interrupted the quiet until he noticed your closed eyes. You were asleep.

You never slept.

You didn't need to.

He tightened his hug and repeatedly kissed your forehead.

~~

When you woke he was watching you. He'd managed to carry you through the mansion and into his room without so much as a stir.

It was easier to make out this side when time was still. The blur was softer.

Logan played with your hair all night, keeping a watchful eye in case you needed anything.

“I love you.” It was a fact. The sky is blue, maths is hard, Logan loves Y/N. You were groggy from your first ever slumber but the words were sobering. He could see all of this in your eyes so continued, “I know it's unnatural, you're going to tell me off and I'm going to argue. That doesn't change the fact that I am in love with you. That I can't see myself with anyone else. You are it for me, baby.”

“I've never felt this way before.” You whisper. Again he almost missed it. “You make me want things I shouldn't. Sometimes I wish I was mortal and that's sacrilege, that's horrid, but it would be easier. We could be together. You've changed the way I see things, Logan, I will never be the same.”

“That sounds like goodbye.” His voice caught in his throat, so he cleared it.

“It should be but I'm not strong enough to do that whilst you're holding me.”