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donutz · 4 months ago

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Sebastian Solace x mute & transgender! reader

It's your first time meeting Sebastian, though.. Your kind soul warms his cold heart

— Sebastian doesn't have that much of a cold heart though so Idk where I was going with that one

Warning: Stitches and needles; Mentions of gashes; Sebastian warms up pretty quickly, I don't like it that much but hey🤷‍♀️; "Signing, looks, like, this".; There's tension, not sure if it's sexual but there's tension;

Speed walking through the halls, you constantly looked around you. Anxious for another monster to pop up. Especially those Squiddles… When it came to even darker rooms you jogged through, hating it when you had to search for a keycard.

You were injured, not too bad. Just a gash in your thigh.

*Good thing it couldn’t chop off anything..*

*I wish it got chopped off.*

It’s hard to breathe or really walk anywhere with your binding(If you do bind). After that ‘minor’ injury, you searched through the drawers and lockers, looking for a medkit. Since you found a flashlight earlier, it might be possible to find a medkit.

You look up at the door number, slightly aching your eyes. Immediately looking down at the ground, you repeat what you saw in your head.

‘Door 48’.

It hurts to blink, to walk. Limping your way into the next room. Expecting anything, except a flying vent grille.

“Got something for ya, come here”.

You jump, yipping in your head. You look around for any flashing lights or peering bright green eyes. Maybe even a squiddle? No, none of them.

“C’monnn, I got good things for you, my own shop.”

You physically quivered. Walking over to the vent, and exhaling while crawling through the tight space. Your wound opening up more.

Reaching the end of the vent, you look around, not seeing much. Until a comforting light turns on.

“Welcome, welcome”!

You jump. Bumping your head against the metal vent.

“Oh… You alright?”

Sebastian wasn’t sure why he said that. He just met you! Worrying about a human… Ridiculous.

You shake your head in response. Bumping your head hurt more than it normally would. You’re stressed, hurt, and scared. Not a great combo.

You look at him, signing, “You,speak, sign, language?”

Sebastian’s eyebrows(?) rose.

“Oh! Um”..

“No”. He accidentally signs.

You tilt your head, confused.

“You.. Don’t”??

He lightly slaps his face. Realizing he said the wrong thing.

“No I do, kind of”.

“I, just, signed, the, wrong, thing”. He sighs.

You show a surprised look on your face. Though it’s not very visible through your darkened visor. You smile, happy that someone could finally understand you. Even if they weren’t really human.

“I’ll talk, though. If that’s.. Nevermind, my name is Sebastian.”

You finally crawl out of the vent, more comfortable now that you know he’s more kind than any other monster down here. Looking around it seems like this small area is a shop.

Oh wait, he said that earlier.

“If I’m correct, you’re… Instructors told you to grab a crystal and secure loose assets. Well as a trade, you give me the data and I give you useful items. It seems like you need a healing tool for that… Gash”.

It seems like you forgot all about that. Maybe it was because you were too focused on Sebastian.

“Well I do have a medkit for that, just 250 research will do the trick.”

Opening your bag, you check how much you have. Your bag pops up a holographic screen of the amount of data you’ve collected.

Around 1755 data.. That’s more than enough.

You walk over to his tail, picking up the medkit and setting it on the ground to collect the right amount of data for it. Maybe even adding an extra tip to give to Sebastian.

You hand him 300 research, smiling because of your appreciation for his kindness. He counts how much there are, his mouth scrunching from confusion.

“Hey— you.. Gave me extra. It’s only 250—”

“I, know”.

“I, just, wanted, to, give, you, extra. Because, of, how, kind, you’ve, been, to, me”.

It was as if your face was glowing within your gear. You’re a very kind human.

“... Why thank you”. But this isn’t a trick right? Urbanshade isn’t trying to make me all soft?

I’m not sure if I can trust this one.

You buy the flash beacon next, giving him the correct amount. Now you only have 1205 research left. Standing up, you hear a pop in your knees from crouching.

Sebastian visibly cringes from that sound, he isn’t very used to that sound. Not anymore.

Peering at the table, you spot a document. Sebastian looks away from you, looking at the light meters high.

You look at him, and he looks back at you. Side eyeing.

“Who’s, document, is, this”?

“That document is mine.. Urbanshade makes documents on every creature or prisoner they have. They probably even have one on you”.

You look back at the document, pondering.

“Is, this, for, sale”?

“Yes, for 1000 research of course”.

You’re surprised at that large amount of ‘money’, but it is reasonable. It’s not like you would want anybody reading a document about you for a small amount. Especially if you’re more of a private person.

“I’ll, buy, it”.

Sebastian’s mouth lightly gapes, “You really have that much”?

You giggle, nodding at him, finding his surprised look funny. You hand over the data, while Sebastian smiles. Mainly because he can use this against Urbanshade, but also because of you. You’re not really like any other human he’s seen or heard of.

You’re a kind soul.

“I’ll have that ready for you when you’re at the surface”.

Smiling even wider, you step, putting a bit too much pressure on your right leg, causing a sharp pain to shoot throughout it.

You whimper, stepping closer to the wall to sit down. Right near the vent.

“Oh my, you really need that fixed don’t you”?

Nodding, you sigh.

“Do, you, know, how, to, stitch”?

He’s taken aback, it’s not like he thought you knew how to stitch an injury or something. It’s just because he might have to get close. Close to a human.

“I-.. Yes. I do”. He stuttered.

You notice his visible discomfort and worriedly sign, “You, don’t, have, to, if, you, don’t, want, to. I, see, that, you’ve, gone, through, enough, already”.

“When, it, comes, to, humans.”

He gasps, staying silent as he takes in what you signed. Yes, he has been through enough when it comes through humans.

But you’re different.

“No it’s fine r-really! I’ll stitch it up for you”. He's still not sure why he's acting like this.

He bends down to your height, being careful with his tail. He’d let you rest against it but… Maybe that’s too far.

A few seconds later, he has the smaller needles and thread carefully sat between his larger claws.

It’s quiet, minus the low ringing of the lights, and the slight swoosh of the fan.

“Okay uhm.. Deep.. Breaths…”

Inhale

He sticks the small needle through your skin, flinching at the feeling. Though it wasn’t too bad.. Just a hard pinch.

Exhaleee….

You might as well fall asleep because of the earlier adrenaline. And god. That hurt. Nevermind a hard pinch, that felt like getting— Ughh. I don’t even want to describe it.

You throw your head back looking up at the heightened ceiling.

… Do you think that’s where Sebastian crawled from?

Like maybe in a vent or something..?

… Sorry—

Pinch!

You grab his sleeve.

“I’m sorry alright! I don’t mean to—” He looks at you. Letting out a sigh.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just…” He inhaled.

Looking at him, “Stressed”? You signed.

Scrunching his eyes, glad you know what he’s feeling.

Exhaling, “Yeah. Stressed”.

“It’s, okay. I, don’t, mind. I’m, not, the, one, stitching, after, all”. You let out a small laugh. So does he.

“.. Thank you”.

He loops through 3 more times, just one more loop left. During the three loops, you were holding his hand. Warming it up, warm blooded and cold blooded.

Literally and mentally.

“Alright just one more left and we’re done”.

Finally.

Going through the last loop, he tightens the stitches, holding your hand tighter now that he’s finishes his work.

You observe it, astonished at the fine service.

Looking up at him, smiling, you sign, “Thank, you”.

“S, E, B, A, S, T, I, A, N”.

“You’re.. Welcome”...

You slowly start to lose your vision, falling to your right, which leads to Sebastian catching your body with his tail.

“O- Oh”...

I did a different writing style on purpose, I think. Idk I wanted to sound like a professional writer on A03.

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chibinasuu · 1 month ago

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Captain's Seat | Luffy x Reader

Part of the Thousand Sunny Slice-of-Life Series

Find the other parts with the rest of the Straw Hats here

Summary: You checked up on the Captain, who had been sitting on his favorite seat for hours as he tried to get the first glimpse of an oncoming island Word count: 1.2k Tags: one-shot, fluff, domestic bliss onboard the sunny, platonic straw hat pirates x reader, main pairing could be interpreted as platonic or romantic, no use of y/n, GN but written with F!Reader in mind

a/n: here it is, the final fic of the thousand sunny slice-of-life series, featuring our beloved captain!! i wanna say thank you to everyone who has been following along, and a warm welcome to everyone who’s seeing this series for the first time! without further ado, please enjoy!

“This is boooring,” Luffy whined from his perch on the Sunny’s railing, one hand limply holding a fishing pole.

The water today was calm, and the weather was sunny, but not too hot. That is to say, it was a perfect morning for fishing. But, it had also been two weeks since the last time the Straw Hats set foot on solid ground, so you could understand why your Captain was bored out of his mind.

“It hasn’t even been ten minutes, Captain.” You chuckled as you looked up at him. You were leaning against the railing next to Luffy, a fishing pole of your own gripped between your fingers.

“But no fish is biting!” He pouted, resting his chin on top of his hand.

“Have some patience, Luffy.” You chided him, though a smile was still present on your face. Knowing full well how his brain works, you wittily added, “Don’t you want some grilled fish for lunch? Or sashimi? Maybe some fish and chips? I’m sure Sanji will make something delicious with our catch.”

Luffy’s eyes practically sparkled at the mention of food, and his focus returned to his fishing pole with renewed vigor. You smiled to yourself, nothing motivated your Captain more than a promise of a good old feast.

“And get down from there, will you?” you told him, eyeing his precarious position on the thin railing, “I’m not fishing you out if you fall overboard.”

“That’s alright!” Luffy laughed cheekily, “Zoro will get me!”

You sighed, knowing that he was absolutely correct.

Today’s catch ended up being an octopus, some mackerels, and a giant tuna, which was so massive that it actually managed to drag Luffy into the ocean. Zoro immediately jumped after him of course, just like Luffy said he would, and successfully wrangled the tuna onboard with him too.

Sanji was ecstatic to see the tuna and proceeded to expertly filet the fish, treating the crew to a fresh sashimi platter before cooking the rest of it for lunch.

The meal that followed was a buffet of seafood delicacies – Sanji’s specialty – and by the end of it, everyone was so full that no one seemed to have the willpower to get up from the dining table.

“Oh, right!” Nami suddenly spoke up, “We’ve entered an island’s climate, by the looks of the weather, so we should make landfall…”

Nami’s sentence was cut short by Luffy’s excited whoop. He immediately leaped up from his chair and charged outside, looking back only to thank Sanji for the meal. You could hear the Captain hooting with joy as he ran to the front of the ship, singing the word “adventure” over and over to a random tune of his own making.

The orange-haired girl heaved a long sigh, “I was saying that we may be making landfall in a few days. The island won’t even come into view until tomorrow, at least.”

Robin let out a soft giggle, “Let him be, Nami. You know how excited he always gets whenever we’re approaching a new island.”

The crew returned to their respective activities after lunch. Franky and Usopp were holed up in their workshops, while Zoro was training in the crow’s nest. Nami was in the library, readying her mapmaking tools to chart the new island and the seas surrounding it. Robin was keeping her company, deeply engrossed in a book.

You helped Sanji wash the dishes and clean up the dining room, before asking him for pieces of vegetables to feed the Straw Hats’ resident transponder snails. The little creatures usually just sleep a lot, so it was always fascinating to see their round eyes widen at the sight of some fresh greens.

A couple of hours passed before you noticed that Luffy had yet to come down from his spot at the figurehead. Now that your chores are finished, you figured it was a good time as any to go check up on him.

“Hey, Captain!” You called out from the bottom of the stairs leading up to the lion’s head, “Mind if I join you?”

Luffy whipped his head around at your voice, yelling out your name excitedly. His lips formed a sly grin, and your eyes widened as you belatedly realized what he was up to, “Luffy, don’t you dare!”

There was nothing you could do as Luffy’s arm stretched out, wrapped several times around your waist, and snatched you off the deck. You crashed into him, both of you struggling to maintain your balance on the curved figurehead.

Once you were safely seated next to him, you playfully swatted his arm, “I could’ve just used the stairs, you know. Did you want to fall into the ocean for the second time today?”

He only scratched his head and laughed maniacally, “My bad!”

Luffy’s eyes returned to the horizon, eager to catch the first glimpse of the island, which, according to Nami, won’t even appear until tomorrow.

You said teasingly, “How come you can stay up here for hours but get bored with only ten minutes of fishing?”

“Hmm,” He seriously considered, before nodding decisively, “Because the view is way better from here.”

You laughed, “We’re in the middle of the ocean, Luffy. The view is practically the same from anywhere on the ship!”

“Nope!” He insisted, “Here is better.”

You could only chuckle, “If you say so, Captain.”

After a few minutes, Luffy’s knees started bouncing in excitement, “I wonder what kind of adventure we’ll have on this next island! Do you think there's gonna be a jungle? A desert? A crowded town? Ah, I can’t wait to taste the food there too!”

“Looking at our track record so far, there will probably also be trouble waiting for us, huh?” You said in jest, nudging him with your shoulder.

“Well, whatever the trouble, I’m not worried one bit.” He gave you a wide grin, “After all, I have you guys with me!”

Luffy put both his hands in front of his face and counted off on his fingers, “I have you, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Chopper, Robin, Franky, Brook, and Jinbe. We always made it through together somehow, don’t we? So, we can just keep doing what we do until we reach the end of the Grand Line!”

You nodded in agreement, your heart filled anew with joy and gratitude for this little family of yours – this little band of misfits who had somehow found each other amid this wide, wide ocean.

Your Captain was uncharacteristically solemn for a moment before he proclaimed, “Then, I’m going to become the King of the Pirates!”

He had said the exact same thing thousands of times before, but the conviction in his voice never wavered.

“You will.” You replied with equal confidence, not a shadow of doubt in your mind.

“And you all are gonna be there by my side when I do.” Luffy said, not as a question or even a Captain’s order, just a statement that you both knew would come true.

You took his hand and intertwined your fingers with his, “Of course we will.”

With that signature laugh of his, he took off his treasured hat and placed it firmly on top of your head, “Y'know, I’m glad you joined my crew!”

“Well, you didn’t exactly give me a choice!” You joked, recalling how he wouldn’t take no for an answer when he first invited you to join the Straw Hat Pirates. You leaned your head against his and squeezed his hand, “But, I’m really glad I’m here too.”

You sat side-by-side with Luffy for hours after that, eyes on the horizon, awaiting the stage for your next adventure to come into sight.

Maybe your Captain was right, the view really did seem better from up here.

a/n: aaahh it’s over! thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed that! this series may have come to an end, but i’d love to write some more of these slice-of-life stories if someone requested it, so if you have ideas/scenarios featuring any of the straw hats, you are more than welcome to slide into my askbox or dm!

Find the other parts with the rest of the Straw Hats here

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year ago

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Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Monday)

Summary | Day One of your trip to the lake house with Joel and you can't keep your hands off each other. It's all about making up for lost time.

Warnings | Fluff, 2(3?) lovesick fools, mentions of food and alcohol, explicit smut, breeding kink, oral sex (F & M Receiving), unprotected PiV sex (We can't all have a sexy Joel Miller to make us pregnant, please wrap it up), talk of UTI's (Honestly, not worth it, PEE AFTER SEX PLEASE), as always, Tommy kinda getting cucked and Joel just being Joel.

Word Count | 5.1K

Authors Note | The love that this series has received already, without me even posting a chapter has been overwhelming and I am so grateful to you all for being so enthusiastic about this. This little trio means more to me than you can ever imagine and I'm so incredibly happy to be able to bring them back to you. I would love to know what you think about this first instalment, so please leave your comments, reblogs and my ask box is always open if you want to scream about this with me. If you enjoyed this then please consider leaving me a tip on my Ko-Fi here.

SEASON TWO OF TRIAL & ERROR. Read the first instalment here (This probably won't make sense without it.)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You press a kiss to Joshua’s forehead as he keeps his hands around Tommy’s leg. He’s four now, toddling about, like a perfect little human, and still, whenever you see him, your chest swells with happiness and love in a way you didn’t think would still be possible.

“You be good for daddy, okay?” You smile, ruffling the hair on top of his head, before bending down to his height, opening your arms for him to fall into as he hugs you, “I’ll be back soon, I promise, and I’ll call every day.”

A whole week away from your baby boy was daunting. You don’t think you’ve ever spent longer than twenty-four hours without him, but you know he’s in good hands. His dad knows what he’s doing, you’re not worried.

Tommy has picked Joshua up into his arms, the little boy clutching onto the collar of his shirt as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. You smile into his kiss, letting your hands drop to his waist to pull him a little closer to you.

“You make sure you give the old man a run for his money, okay?” He smirks when he pulls away, hand running over your hair.

“He’ll wish he hadn’t come up with idea.” You whisper back, one last chaste kiss to Tommy’s lips and Joshua’s head.

“You ready?” Joel asks from across the truck, sliding into the driver’s side.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Joel is nervous. He very rarely feels like this in his older age, especially when it comes to speaking to Tommy. They’ve grown up together, he basically helped raise him, had countless awkward conversations with him, including the one that got him here in the first place, waiting patiently for his birthday so he can steal away his girl and have one night with her all to himself, but he’s still nervous.

It's the end of summer, Sarah will be leaving for college in the next few days, dead set on becoming a doctor, so Joel’s decided the only way to celebrate his little girl going off and doing what neither he nor his brother could do, and to ease the impending loneliness he’s going to feel at having this big house all to himself, is a cookout. He’s fed everyone, spent time keeping Joshua amused so you and Tommy can eat in peace, and now, a few beers in, he thinks he’s ready.

He walks down to Tommy, who is cleaning the grill off, listening to the sounds of you and Sarah chasing Joshua around his garden, trying to tire him out. He puts his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes and they share a smile between them.

“You alright, brother?” Tommy asks, brushing down the last of the grill.

“I’m good,” Joel replies simply, “But I have something to ask you, a favour.”

“Anythin’ for you brother.” He smiles, setting down his cleaning tools and picking up his beer.

“I know we never discussed it, between us, but what happens between me and her, it makes me happy, y’know?”

Tommy’s smile gets bigger, and Joel knows that because it’s all his brother has ever wanted for him, to be happy, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so grateful for the man in front of him.

“I know second time around it’s takin’ longer than we’d all like,” Joel sighs, you’d all been trying for months for the second baby – people had told you second time around was easier, but whoever decided that was a damn liar, “I just wondered, y’know, ‘cause she’s stressed and all, whether I could take her away?”

“Take her away?” Tommy asks, eyebrow cocked with his lips on the bottle of beer.

“Not from you,” Joel stutters, “Just for a week, somewhere quiet, I don’t know, the lake or somethin’, just see if her relaxin’ might help things.”

“Where were you thinkin’?” Tommy asks.

“I’ve been lookin’ and there are some nice places up in Colorado,” He rubs the back of his neck, not wanting to admit to his brother that he’s trawled the internet late at night trying to find somewhere he can afford, that in his mind he has it all planned out, “Close enough that we can get back if anything happens with Josh.”

“I don’t know that she’ll get the time from work, Joel,” Tommy sighs, “It ain’t that I don’t want her to go, I know she’d love the time away, but she’s pressed.”

Joel turns around and follows Tommy’s eyeline, you’re sitting on the grass with your back against the veranda, watching as Sarah plays with Joshua a little further away. Your head is leant back against the wood and Joel can tell you’re exhausted. A full time job, plus being a mother, whilst Joel’s got Tommy working longer and longer hours so they can finally get their business off the ground properly.

“When was the last time she was anythin’ but a mother?” Joel asks, turning back to his brother, “Come on brother,” He pleads, “We can give her a break, give her the chance to be just her again,” Then he decides to sweeten the deal, “I’ll even give you the week off work.”

“You really don’t have to beg me Joel,” Tommy insists with a smile, “If she can get the time off work, then you can have her.”

You’re three hours into the drive. Joel has insisted he can make it in one go, with a few comfort breaks on the way, despite it being a twelve-hour drive, but you’re not going to argue with him. He’s well and truly in charge this week and you’re more than happy to relinquish control to him. It’s nice, having someone else worry about you, whether you’ve got enough snacks to keep you going, whether you need to stop to use the bathroom, whether you need to close your eyes and take a nap, as opposed to you worrying about doing that for your son.

Joel is tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Sarah had made him a mixtape before she left, supposedly full of the songs they used to listen to in the car together, though you can’t imagine Joel had allowed much Taylor Swift judging by how fast he was to press skip when the familiar sounds of Teardrops On My Guitar started playing through the truck. He’s just finished singing along to Bon Jovi, a smile on his face as he looks at you.

“I love your voice,” You smile, running your fingers lightly up the arm that is resting near you, his warm palm on your thigh as he drives, “It’s not too late y’know, to make it big with your guitar.”

He snorts but with a smile on his face, “I was never any good at bein’ on stage, always got choked up and froze,” He turns his head to you a little, “I’m happy to just save my singin’ for you.”

The CD he’s got playing skips to the next song and the sounds of Destiny’s Child’s Survivor start filling the car. Joel is already moving to press skip so you grip hold of his wrist.

“Don’t you dare,” You warn, “This is such a good song.”

“Sweetheart, come on, you don’t really wanna listen to it.”

You chuckle at him, “You’ve listened to everything you wanted, just give me this one song.”

“If I’m lettin’ you listen to this,” He growls, “Then you’re gonna owe me.”

“Is that right?” You play coy, “And what do you deem suitable payment for a single Destiny’s Child song?”

You watch his face, still trained straight ahead on the highway, but with that smirk that you always love to see from him. It means he’s thinking something filthy and filthy Joel is something you simply cannot get enough of. You watch as his eyes meet yours momentarily and then drop to his lap. If you hadn’t been so focused on his face, you’d have missed it, but your eyes trail down his body where you can already see him growing in his jeans.

You lean back in your seat, nodding to yourself, “Joel Miller, grown man, wants me to suck his cock whilst he drives, just like a horny teenager.”

He brings a hand to the back of your neck and squeezes, trying to gently drag you forward, “I’ve waited a fuckin’ year to have you to myself, pretty girl,” He speaks lowly, “Didn’t think I was gonna wait for a bed, did you?”

You chuckle but move to undo your seatbelt. He keeps his hand resting on the back of your neck, but it’s gentle. He doesn’t pull you towards him, just waits for you to set your own pace. You reach across the console of the truck with your hand, palming him through his jeans, reveling in the way his head tips back and he lets a long sigh fall from his lips.

“You missed me, huh?” You tease, bringing your fingers up to the button on his jeans, you should have known he had something planned when he turned up without his belt on.

“You seriously askin’ me if I missed you?” He asks as you pop the button and drag his zipper down slowly.

You lean over, lips pressing a chaste kiss to the scruff on his jaw, “Boost my ego, Joel Miller,” You whisper into his ear as your hand sneaks underneath the waistband of his underwear, “Tell me how much you missed me.”

He lifts his hips for you a little so you can shuck his jeans down just enough to pull his cock out. You lean over, Joel’s wide palm still resting at the nape of your neck as you fist him, running your hand up and down his length. If you were a stronger woman you’d tease him, but you’re as desperate for him as he is for you, so you bring your mouth right to him, swirling your tongue over his tip, lapping up the drops of pre-cum that are waiting for you.

Your wrap your lips around him and swallow him down as far as you can take him without him hitting the back of your throat, using your hand to pump the length your mouth doesn’t reach, swirling your tongue around him as you pull your mouth back up.

“God fuckin’ damn, babygirl,” Joel groans above you, hand tangling in your hair as you continue to bob your head up and down on him, “You’ve done this before.”

It strikes you in this moment that in the four or so years you and Joel have been together like this, he’s never once let you put your mouth on him like this. Before Joshua, he had always been hyper focused on your pleasure, whether you felt good, and in the years since, in those few short hours you had together, he’d never once asked for it, had stopped you when you tried, he’d only ever come for you when he was fucking you.

You sneak your hand lower, cupping his heavy balls in the palm of your hand as you take him further down your throat. The added sensation of your hand has him bucking his hips up into your mouth enough that you have to pull away from him, coughing and spluttering.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He worries, taking his hand from your head, “Are you okay?”

“Focus on the road, Miller,” You demand, moving to get right back down to business, “If I choke to death on your cock that’s my business.”

“Kinda hard to focus on the road when I’m seconds away from filling your mouth, pretty girl.” You can hear the strain in his voice as you start working his cock again, pulling off only long enough to reply.

“That’s what I want,” You whisper, “You gonna come down my throat Joel?”

“That what you want?” He grunts from above you.

“Wanna taste you.”

“Well pretty girl, you just keep goin’ and I’ll give you what you want.”

He stays true to his word, and after a few short minutes, he’s gripping a fistful of your hair, breathing your name out, as his cum spreads across your tongue. Salty, masculine, musky, but distinctly Joel, and you think from this moment on you might be hooked on the taste of him.

You pull back up, sitting back in your seat, Joel turning his head to watch you as you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out just enough to show him what he’s given you. Then, you close your mouth and swallow every last drop, wiping the small amount that had gathered in the corner of your lips back into your mouth.

“Jesus,” Joel breathes, “You’re somethin’ else, baby.”

It’s late evening by the time you and Joel arrive at the lake house. It’s dark so you can’t properly take in your surroundings, but it’s peaceful and quiet, and when you step out of the truck, it smells different. The smell of pine and fresh water fills your senses and it’s at this moment you realise you really needed this – a break away from the suburbs and the city you’re so used to.

You make a simple dinner of chicken and roasted vegetables, washed down with lukewarm beer that hadn’t had a chance to properly chill. Joel insists on doing the dishes, silently cursing he didn’t pick a cabin with a dishwasher. The more time he has to spend washing up, the less time he can spend buried deep inside you, which is what he wants most right now. He’s hungrier for you than he’s ever been, you having refused his offer to pull off the highway so he could return the favour earlier.

You’ve taken two fresh beers from the fridge outside with you. He can see you sitting on the small swing seat on the porch, taking small sips of your drink as you wait for him. You’re on the phone to Tommy, letting him know you arrived safely and then he can hear your voice change as you speak to Joshua – more high-pitched than normal. The conversation doesn’t last long, Tommy clearly needing to put Joshua down to sleep, so you’re hanging up the phone in no time. He notices you shiver through the window, so he digs out one of his flannels from his bag that hasn’t made it to the bedroom and takes it out with him, draping it across your shoulders. He takes a seat next to you, his thigh touching yours, as you hand him his beer.

“I bet this view will be beautiful tomorrow.” You muse, taking another sip of your drink.

“I don’t know,” He speaks back softly, looking at you, “It’s pretty perfect to me already.”

You can feel your face grow hot at the compliment, but you smile. Joel drapes his arm across the back of the bench, and you automatically shuffle in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as his hand trails up and down your arm.

“So, how have you really been in that house without Sarah these past few weeks?” You ask, hand coming to rest on his thigh.

“It’s been strange,” He answers honestly, “But I’m so proud of her, my little girl training to be a doctor.”

Your heart swells because you’re pretty fucking proud of her as well. She’d worked so hard to get into medical school the past few years, finally settling on what it was that she wanted to do, and you have no doubt that she’s going to find some incredible medical breakthrough during her career.

“Still don’t know where she got her brains from,” He grumbles, “Sure as hell ain’t from the side me and Tommy got ours.”

You swat your hand to his thigh, “What have I told you about being kind to yourself?” You chastise, earning a low laugh from him, “Don’t sell yourself short, you started your own business Joel, not everyone can do that.”

He nods, but you think it’s more to placate you than understanding his worth, but you decide to let it lie, “You know, she’s not far from here,” You offer, “If you wanted, you could go and see her.”

“I’d like that,” He smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ll call her tomorrow, gonna have to think of a white lie as to why I’m all the way out here though.”

“I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something.”

It’s silent for a while between you. Listening to the wind rustle the leaves on the trees is soothing. Pair that with Joel’s gentle tracing up and down your arm, and the way he’s slowly rocking the swing with his foot on the ground, and you’re almost ready to fall asleep.

“Hey Joel,” You whisper, leaning your head up towards him, he answers with a hum of acknowledgement, “You wanna take me to bed?”

He leans down, pressing his lips softly to your own, “I thought you’d never ask.”

You stand, extending your hand to his, which he takes, letting you lead him back inside. Because he’s used to it, the routine of checking the locks at home, he makes sure he double checks all the doors are locked before letting you take hold of his hand again and lead him down the small hallway, into the master bedroom at the end.

The bed is huge, white sheets resting on top, with plump pillows at the end. If it wasn’t for Joel’s hands on your hips and his lips on your neck, you’d be focused on falling into it and going straight to sleep. He’s walking you forward, trailing wet kisses down the expanse of your neck, then he turns you once your knees hit the foot of the bed.

He brings his palms to your face, cradling it in his hands as he leans down, pressing those soft, plush lips to your own. You bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body flush to his broad frame as he opens his mouth, tongue licking into your own mouth as he deepens your kiss. It’s the first time he’s kissed you since last year, both of you having some form of silent agreement with each other that Tommy doesn’t need to see that. He see’s everything else you do when you’re together, when he’s watching his brother fill you up, this here, when Joel kisses the very breath from your lungs, this is just for the two of you.

With his mouth still latched to yours, he uses his hands to push his flannel from your shoulders, before he reaches down and tugs your own shirt from where it was tucked into your jeans. He takes his time, unbuttoning it one notch at a time, until that too is pushed from your shoulders. You don’t even realise he’s undone the button on your jeans until he’s pushing them down your hips – too focused on the way his mouth tastes.

“Sit down, pretty girl,” He whispers, dropping to his knees, “Been drivin’ me wild all day,” His hands trail up your legs, parting them in front of his face when you perch on the edge of the bed, “Thinkin’ about you all wet down here, after you sucked my cock.”

He runs his thumb over the front of your panties, tracing the seam of your pussy, which has indeed been completely soaked for him since you sucked him off. He presses his mouth, wet and hot, against the delicate skin of your thigh as you let your head drop back and a sigh to escape your mouth. His mouth comes to rest between the crook of your thigh, where the seam of your underwear is, and you think he might just pull them to the side and give you what you want, but instead, he starts a trail of kisses from the opposite knee, moving slowly up your other thigh until you’re squirming for him.

“Don’t tease me,” You beg, running a hand through the curls on his head, “Make me feel good, Joel.”

“This what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them off you when you lift yourself off the bed a little, “Want my mouth here?”

His thumb runs up the seam of your pussy, the friction without the barrier of your panties delicious now. You spread your legs for him, heels resting on the bottom of the bed, baring your spread, aching cunt for him. His palms are resting on the inner part of your thighs now as he leans in, lips pressing a single chaste kiss to your clit.

“Fuck,” You breathe out, chasing the feel of his lips as he pulls away, you almost whine until you feel him push one of his delightfully thick fingers straight into your weeping pussy, “Fuck Joel, holy shit.”

He’s grinning up at you like the devil when you look down, pulling his finger out all the way before slipping it into his mouth to clean it off, “You been this wet all day?” He asks, thumb moving to gather the slick at your entrance to drag to your clit, moving in featherlight movements.

“Y-yes,” You manage to choke out, “This is what you do to me.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he puts his face right back where you want it, tongue licking a firm, wide strip from your weeping hole and up to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to place precise flicks on your swollen bundle of nerves. He’s so fucking good with his mouth it actually hurts. He’s managed to learn exactly how you like it, what combination of moves with his mouth and the addition of his fingers bring you over the edge the fastest and that’s exactly what he’s doing right now. He slips two of his fingers back inside you, curling them straight up into that spot within you that makes you cry, lips sucking your clit into his mouth whilst his tongue still moves perfectly across you.

“God fucking damn it, Joel,” You cry, fingers tugging at his hair as you push your pussy closer to his face, “Gonna make me come.”

He doesn’t bother to pull his mouth away from you to tell you it’s okay like he usually does, just continues the movements just as they are until your crying his name out, the rope that was pulled taught inside you snapping as your pussy clenches around Joel’s fingers and you come so hard your vision blacks out for a moment.

You collapse down onto the bed, arms no longer able to hold you up as Joel takes his mouth from your clit, gently pulling his fingers from you. Without needing to be asked, you scoot up the bed, letting air fill your lungs. Your eyes are trained on Joel as he starts to undress in front of you, smirking at you when he drags his shirt over his head.

“You should charge people for this,” You mumble, “Sure a lot of ladies would pay good money to watch you strip.”

“Like this?” He chuckles, slowly undoing the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down painfully slow as you start humming, encouraging him to really put on a show, “Zip it.” He laughs, pushing his jeans down his legs, his cock hard and pressing against the thin material of his boxers.

He shucks them off his body as well and you watch, captivated as he fists his cock, he is, next to his brother, one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Joel Miller,” You breathe out as he clambers onto the bed, pulling you up slightly so he can take your bra off, “Do you know that?”

His mouth is pressing kisses between your breasts, letting his teeth nibble small marks across your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. You can feel his cock pressing between your folds, running up and down your pussy as he settles properly between your thighs. You run your hand through his hair as he trails his lips up to your face, peppering your jaw with kisses.

“Can’t say I’ve been told much,” He whispers into your ear, “But I’ll take it.”

You can feel him reach between you, base of his cock in his hand as he brings the tip to your slick cunt. He thrusts forward just a touch, giving you the tip, lips settling onto your own so he can swallow the small moans you let out as he inches deeper and deeper into you until he bottoms out. You shift your hips underneath him, legs hitching around his waist.

“Baby please,” He pleads, “You gotta give me a second,” His head dropping to the crook of your neck, “Fuck, how does it always feel like I’m fucking you for the first time?”

You want to give him all the time in the world but you’re just as bad as he is. He needs to move, and he needs to move now otherwise you think you might actually die.

“Please Joel,” You moan, rolling your hips up into his, hand still firmly tangled in the curls at the back of his neck, “You need to move.”

“I ain’t gonna last, babygirl.” He groans as he pulls himself out and slams back into you.

“Don’t care,” You moan as his lips attach themselves to your throat, “Just need to feel you.”

He moves, placing his hands on either side of your head, pushing himself up, as he drags his cock from your tight heat and starts thrusting properly. You’ve had this man more times than you can count, two or three times a month for the past six months whilst you try for your second baby, but the way he feels inside of you never fails to set your body on fire.

He’s always so big, and you feel so fucking full of him. You close your eyes and tilt your head back further into the mattress as he drives himself deeper into you, head of his cock brushing against your cervix. It’s pain and pleasure, it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. He makes you stupid when he fucks you like this. Focused on one thing, and one thing only.

One of his hands clutches your chin, his voice hoarse with pleasure, “Look at me,” He demands, “Give me those beautiful eyes when I fuck you.”

You do as you’re told, eyes opening and staring into his own chocolate orbs that are dark with lust. God, you love him. You know you shouldn’t love him this much, it’s dangerous, but he’s so fucking good to you, you can’t help yourself.

“Good girl,” He praises, making your pussy clench around him, “Doin’ what you’re told, you’re so good for me, aren’t you?”

“So good Joel,” You moan, fingers gripping the meat of his biceps as you hold onto him, hips rolling up to meet his with every thrust, “Want you to come for me.”

“Yeah, want me to fill you up, pretty girl?”

“Yes Joel!” You cry, “Fill me up baby, please.”

His hips start to falter from their precise thrusts of before, he’s so fucking close, you can see it on his face, hear it in his growls. He dips his head back to the crook of your neck, teeth nipping along your collarbones as he pounds into you. He lets out one long moan of your name as he stills inside you, and you can feel the familiar warmth of his cum filling you up. He brings one of his hands down to cup your ass, lifting you up a little, as if he thinks the angle of your pelvis makes much of a difference when it comes to getting you pregnant.

He groans into your neck as he slips out of you, letting your hips finally drop to the bed as he rolls off you, collapsing in a heap beside you as he catches his breath. You lean over, kiss pressed to his cheek with a mumble that you’ll be back in a minute once you’ve cleaned up, the pain of last month’s UTI still fresh in your mind after you fell asleep without going to the bathroom.

When you return, two glasses of water in hand, he’s already pulled back the sheets and has settled himself back against the pillows. You hand him his glass, setting yours on the nightstand as you climb into bed, settling your aching bones against your own pillow when you realise this is uncharted territory with you and Joel. When you spend your one night with him, neither of you sleep – you spend as much time as you can connected, making each other feel good, and when he’s with you outside of that, with Tommy watching, or joining in, whichever he feels like doing that night, he’s always gone in a flash. You’ve never settled down to sleep next to him, you don’t know if he snores, you don’t know if he wants you to cuddle into his side and drift off to sleep together.

“Stop thinkin’,” He sighs, “And c’mere.”

You smile, crawling over the space between you as he moves his body down to lie flat on his back. You drape one of your arms over his tummy as his wraps around your shoulder, the other resting on your arm wrapped around him. You bring your leg up to wrap between his and let out a sigh.

“You have no idea how much I’ve always wanted this,” He whispers quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Somethin’ so simple as fallin’ asleep with you.”

You hum against his warm skin, letting the thumb that’s resting on his tummy start rubbing small circles on his skin, “It’s nice,” You speak, punctuating it with a yawn, “Hope you don’t snore though.”

His chest rising with a chuckle as he pulls you tighter to his body, “Go to sleep, babygirl,” He speaks quietly, “I’m gonna wear you out tomorrow.”

You don’t know whether he’s referring to the hike he wanted to take you on through the mountains, or the fact that you both know what you’re really here for. Is he going to keep you right here on this mattress all day, filling you up until you can’t take it anymore? Either way, being here with Joel has already been the ointment you needed for your stress. Your shoulders are more relaxed, and you don’t have the headache you usually do at the end of the day from gritting your teeth. Whatever he’s got planned, you’re going to take it, and for now, you’re going to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach that this time, though longer than you ever get, is still fleeting. You can worry about that another day.

Taglist: @morning-star-joy @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @kaitangatatacos @paleidiot

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ddejavvu · 2 years ago

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Spencer Reid x surgeon reader where he walks in on them doing surgery on a raw chicken bc their studying for a test? 😭

Spencer has been getting proficient at husbandly duties for some time now. He's used to changing the thermostat each day and night, leaving your slippers by the foot of the bed if they've been kicked off in the bathroom, and washing your water bottles out when they've sat on your nightstand for too long. One thing he's recently picked up on is thawing out meat before you eat it, and he's sure you don't want the chicken in the fridge for too long. He'd watched you buy it at the store this past weekend with an already eager stomach, hoping that you were going to make his favorite chicken-pasta dish.

When he opens the fridge door at 5:30, it's gone. He blinks, glances over at the stove, and... no chicken.

He remembers a beef stir fry last night, so that wasn't it. You had chicken the night before that, but Derek had sent it home as leftovers from a grilling session he'd gotten into earlier in the week. And you'd had takeout before that, so he's stumped as to where the chicken has gone.

He peeks into the freezer, just in case, but it's not there, either.

"Angel?" He calls out, heading for your home office to interrogate you, "Have you seen the-"

He pushes open the door to find you hunched over your desk, picking apart-?

"-chicken..."

You turn with a dazed expression, fresh out of your chicken-dissecting zone.

"Spence?"

"I was looking for the chicken," He frowns, "I thought it would be in the fridge for dinner. Not on the operating table."

"Oh," You set down your tools, rubbing the back of your wrist over your tired eyes so that you don't get chicken goop in them, "Sorry, Spence. It was for my class, not dinner. But if you want chicken, we can order in?"

"I'll do that," Spencer eyes your gooey gloves with apprehension, "And when you're done, please throw the gloves away in the outside garbage."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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barracuda-shark-games · 2 months ago

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Jocosa | she/her | 33 years old | bisexual

Notable traits: Intimidating, clever, diplomatic, merciful, reasonable, compassionate

Description

Despite her relatively young age compared to other advisors, Jocosa has served as Chief Royal Advisor to the Sunrise Throne since Wilmot ascended to power 13 years ago, when Jocosa was only 20. Her curly blonde hair frames piercing blue eyes, and she keeps it tied into two braids that cascade over her shoulders and reach just past her waist. Her curvy figure is usually adorned by a form-fitting crimson gown with silver and gold embroidery, and accessorized with matching gold and silver jewelry in the form of heavy bangles, thick chokers, and big earrings. She colors her full lips and round cheeks with rouge makeup that embellishes her rosy complexion. At a relatively average height of 5’7 (170cm) and with a deceptively youthful face, Jocosa still makes an imposing figure due to her competency, wisdom, and willpower. She carries herself with poised grace and determination. Some accuse her of having a bleeding heart; whether or not that’s the case, it’s still a heart she keeps closely guarded.

Trivia

On romance: While Jocosa will be available for romance regardless of the MC’s gender, she has never had a relationship nor feelings for another woman before and will, as a result, be a bit shyer with a female MC than with a male MC. That being said, she will fall equally in love with an MC of either gender when romanced.

Favorite food: Grilled salmon; she is a pescetarian

Song: 'Hold Me' by be steadwell

I am breathless weightless in her arms nothing felt so much like home yet I'm restless the parts that I can't trust, the reckless urge to stay alone. she said "Hold me. Hold me, when you start to lose control. When you feel like letting go, baby don't." No one ever could control me, least of all myself, tangled up in consequence. I remember when she told me she would be the one, spoken with all confidence. She said "Hold me, that's all I need you to do. Break the skin if you have to, I can take the pain for you."

Excerpt

Under the cut for chapter 1 spoilers! Keep in mind that this is a rough draft and, therefore, may be subject to change before chapter 1 releases.

Your automaton escort leads you to a set of heavy oak double doors before it turns around and appears to power down.

Okay… You suppose you are meant to take it from here, so you knock on one of the doors.

When you receive no answer, you try again. Once again, nothing.

With a sigh, you resign yourself to opening the door yourself – you were summoned here, after all. The door is as heavy as it appears, and it takes some effort for you to push it open.

You find yourself in a room significantly taller than it is wide, with a winding staircase along the wall that appears to lead to nowhere and functions simply to allow one to scale the bookshelves that line the rounded walls. It occurs to you that this room must be one of the spires you observed from outside of the palace. This room is as maximalist as it can get, with all sorts of trinkets, tools, and appliances you struggle to place the purpose of. The only decluttered space is the polished mahogany desk near the front, which has atop it a quill and inkpot, a clipboard with blank parchment, and a placard that reads “Chief Advisor Jocosa.”

Behind the desk is a high-backed chair in matching mahogany, with red velvet upholstery and a sun carved into the top of its back. A woman sits in the chair with an unreadable expression in her piercing blue eyes that seem to look right through you. Her hands are neatly folded on the desk before her, and even from where you stand you can make out their smoothness. Long, blonde braids frame each side of her soft face, cascading down over her shoulders and chest before disappearing from sight below the desk. Clad in an expensive-appearing crimson gown, the woman’s curvy frame almost appears to disappear into the red chair behind it.

You realize you’re staring, and so is she. You shift uncomfortably beneath her gaze and prepare to clear your throat when she suddenly speaks.

“Please, have a seat,” she says, gesturing to one of two low armchairs positioned in front of her desk. Her voice is smooth and melodic, as if she just wakes up and it’s ready to go.

You oblige and decide to make yourself comfortable, which comes easy given the high quality of the armchair within which you now sit. “You asked to see me?” you say.

“I did,” the woman says with a gracious nod. “We haven’t been properly introduced yet. My name is Jocosa, Chief Royal Advisor to the Sunrise Throne.”

You introduce yourself before turning down her offer for tea. “Suit yourself,” she says with a shrug and proceeds to pour herself a cup. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? As chief advisor to the throne, you and I will be seeing a lot of each other.” She brings her cup to her bright red lips and blows to cool off her tea. “I thought it only fair for you to know that I did not approve of this marriage arrangement.”

Wait, what? You’re not sure what you expected of this summons, but it certainly wasn’t this.

#bethroned if #if wip #advisor jocosa #bethroned sneak peeks #interactive fiction

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grillpartshub-blog · 2 years ago

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#Barbecue Tool Sets #Grilling Accessories #Electric Indoor Grill #Indoor Grills

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styleasia · 8 days ago

Text

#JIM #BEAM®#3 #PIECE #GRILL #TOOL #SET #viralpost #viral trends #trending #trendignpost #chrisamas

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court-jobi · 2 years ago

Text

We Have Time

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Words: 4,661

Rating: Teen/Mature (spicy second half) 18+ to be safe, my lovelies

A/N: the helmet comes off, separation anxiety, comfort comfort comfort, oral (fem receiving), hand-holding spicy times, my love language is Mando'a, Mandalorian partnerships are top tier, Soft!Din Djarin

Summary: Your heart is torn in two, where your past life and the one you're living in now come to a crossroads and you need to make a decision. Temporary as it is, the stakes feel higher than ever. You're asked to take part in an incredibly lucrative job-- one that'll bring home the biggest paycheck of your life-- at the expense of six weeks of your time, and away from your life partner for the first time in a year.

Now that you have a home, something to lose... something to miss.

But if there is one man who can make you feel like the only creature in the galaxy he would drop anything for, who would support you and your brilliant mind, who would encourage you to the edge of Wild Space and back-- it is your riduur, Din Djarin.

And your Mandalorian is top knotch at keeping his promises and pleasures to you; will give them to you in equal measure:

--in the light of day, and in bed if you ask...

Read on AO3

"That was quick. Back already?"

You'd stopped under the repulsor grille of the Razor Crest, shuffled about until he wheeled himself out from the underside of the ramp. The moment he saw your face, he sat to attention on his knees.

"--Cyar'ika?"

"He offered me the job."

"Thirty-five…" He repeated, stunned, "thousand credits?"

"--A week;" Dead serious. "Thirty-five, a week."

Din swayed a moment, elbows to his knees; presently, reevaluating all his life choices. “I sure got into the wrong business, didn’t I.”

“Not to brag or anything,” you gave a dazzling smirk his way, “but your girl is a badass when it comes to making the big bucks~”

"What kind of freighters are these?"

"Really kriffing big ones." You gave a smirk, "This is an investment that's gonna take boss-man to the next level of bacta distribution."

"Damn right. It has to be."

How could you not become a mogul with twenty of these freighters in your fleet?

"How long do they need a mech there?" Din asked next.

"Corbyn said the initial contract request outlined work for 4 weeks.." you tweaked the timeline, "-maybe a more realistic five, depending on the speed of things. If they have to order more parts than expected, it could add a couple day’s labor in the meantime. That's not too uncommon."

Din's helmet bobbed around amazed- the tone flowing through his helmet to show he was impressed,

"That's a hell of a job. You handle things like that?"

"I've done it before. You fill 'other duties as assigned' to kill time while deliveries show up. Things that need the human touch, y’know? Not droid repairs or anything. He's probably got plenty of odd projects I can wrap for him in the shipyard. Speeders, junkers, old gunships he likes to restore and lease out."

Comically, Din looked around to the Razor Crest- his own old girl that could use a 'bit of work'.

"If I'd known you could handle fleet tech," he rose to his feet to join you, "I'd have given you the bigger bunkroom from the start. Experience like yours deserves better perks than just any ride-along mechanic. No wonder he wants to lock you in."

"C'mon, don't be dramatic~" You laughed. "I don’t need fuss. I might be in demand right now, but m'not that impressive."

"You are impressive.” Din pressed, “I'm not shocked at all."

His confidence in you never failed to make you beam… though it carried weight this time around. The biggest paycheck of your life is on the chopping block in front of you.

The Mandalorian wrenched the tool against the base of his palm. All teasing aside, the stakes were setting in; you can tell by where he looks off now. He asked the biggest factor:

"...And the start date?"

"Well:" you bit the bullet with a gnaw of your teeth against your cheek, "end of this week."

Din nodded. Brief. Accepting.

"Think you'll be ready in that quick of a turnaround?"

You froze– that assumption was a mega leap. You hadn't even gotten that far.

"He– didn't really give me a chance to ask what I'd need to wrap up; he went to catch someone else before they left the hangar. But good grief, Din," you crossed your arms and furrowed your brows to confusion, "I wouldn't have given him an answer even if he asked– I'd never just do something like this without telling you!"

He seemed to straighten at that. Surprised for some reason, that you would think this way when it was all obvious to you.

You caught yourself– no sense in unpacking that to death. Next question.

"How did you leave things then?"

"Said he'd check back in the morning for my decision either way. He recognized the ship, knows where to find me.." you gestured lightly beside you, the booster you stood beneath.

The tense proposition buzzed around your head. This job looks on flimsi to be the makings of a good deal, a strong as hellfire tick on your winstreak, and one you wouldn't have blinked at six months ago.

But you knew what that would require: leaving. Both your Mandalorian and the Child. Your beloved boys that roped you in and made you their family.

It's funny, the last time you took a job like the old days, things went completely wrong from the start and ended before it ever got off the ground:

It was only a short time after you'd met, but sparks had already begun to fly between you and this Mandalorian; you'd worked so perfectly together so far. In tandem, each other's missing piece. And what's more, you found yourself enjoying the company, knowing you didn't have to go it alone anymore. That was so refreshing– and unheard of. Like the oddest pairing of hard to soft, a sun-warmed kitten to cold humanized steel, you were drawn into each other's orbit to thrive better than you might have alone. This was a partnership, truly. And you saw a solo job as a way to contribute, pull your weight.

So you agreed to one that came your way one day, and called it an easy win- he'd drop you off, pick you up, same time next week. You'd felt a little funny leaving him, even then. In this time together, you knew you’d surely miss his company, but denied yourself any true separation anxiety: it’s not like it was earned. How could it be? You'd just met.

But you'd parted. Gone your separate ways with a rendezvous plan already in the forefront of your mind as you went to meet your ride–

–when an explosion along the tram you were set to board sent a crowd hurtling towards you. If you hadn’t said a long goodbye like you did, if you’d stalled just two minutes less… you'd have been on that train.

It was pronounced a cylinder misalignment, diagnostic fluke or something like that– and not intentional. But you didn’t know that at the time. A sudden burst of fuel setting the entire transport dock ablaze had you shook.

You'd turned tail to run straight back towards where the Mando had left you– only to hear your name being shouted from a clouded receiver, encased in a beskar helmet, somehow rising loud and strong over the swarm of panic-ridden pedestrians…

He was running to you, too.

Didn't bother making other arrangements for the job call in all the chaos, after that. But given that little scare, you both decided to just cut the losses and try again next time the opportunity presented itself. Bad luck, eh? Next time, for sure.

…That was eight months ago. You ruled out any solo jobs, and so did he.

If only for a short tenure, the op; and this time wasn't unheard of or impossible.. But not only were you rusty, but the timing was horrible. And long.

Din set his tool down, finally rising to come up to you.

“We can talk it through all you like…" he posed to you, "But you’ll need to listen to your gut in the end. What do you think?"

You looked back wildly. He was leaving this huge decision up to you?? Did he seriously think you'd blindly accept?

"What do I think?" You started defensive, then… stopped.

Considered, and easing up, you sighed.

You eyed the split in the exhaust somewhere over Din's head, the one on its last leg.

"I think... it would be enough to fix her." You scanned the Razor Crest, her makeshift patches along the outer shell of the thruster. "-And then some. I know money isn't everything, but.. It's a shit-ton of money, babe. It's... doable." you laughed nervously, thankful Din finally joined your side as you explained the pros.

Doable was an understatement. This was more than agreeable, at this paygrade. You'd be a dikut to turn down even half that price.

After he brushed them off a bit, his hands came up to hold your cheeks; visor trained on you, unreadable. But you knew better. He was assessing, looking for the hesitation, the test of any doubts.

"You could stop taking pucks for a while," with a small smile, you caught his wrists in return "Skyborn knows you deserve a break. You can rest up for once..."

He made a little sound, stroking your cheek in a gentle show of thanks. You were considering you both in this, which broke you more to think about going separate ways for a while.

You ran through the logistics, too– the loose ends.

"And– I figured you'd be off to find that Jedi anyway, and I know how you get about worlds I haven't been to before. This would be an easy one. Just your average, smoggy, Corellian garage.You've seen one? Then picture it, filled with bubba Rhodians and Keshiris, and that's the home away from home." You joked gently.

There were plenty of benefits to this arrangement and Din nodded curtly to acknowledge them, but a gentle shake of his head showed he was still pondering some things, unseen.. You really wished you'd told him all this inside, where you could read his reaction better.

The quiet from him was beginning to make you doubt your good reasoning at all.

"Please say something?" You begged softly.

Only one thing came to mind- by the way he was likely running through the script of his whenever he thought of you, you had a good idea what he’d say.

His aliit. His creed. Your safety, above all else.

"This Corbyn... Do you trust him?"

It was a loaded question. Trust was rare for him, yet you earned his. But Din couldn't be responsible for you while in the care of someone else, which clearly had him on edge about all this. He’d surely wanna meet the guy before you shipped out. While that thought seemed parental, you understood it- and would expect no less from the man who valued you like the finest of beskar ingots.

You braved a little smile.

"I do. He's a good guy. Bites off more than he can chew but--- but it's the same setup as I did back when he hired me for the baby stuff,” you squeezed his wrists, “It would be safe.”

A careful thumb came to your temple, brushing the beskar steel adorning you. Pushed your hair back in a stylish fashion, it did– but in reality was your beautiful proposal gift. Then Din traced the skin just below it, raking through your hair. The touch ached.

"I didn't think this would ever happen. Didn’t know he docked this far out for fueling anyway,” you absently studied you Mandalorian’s thick cowl from your spot here at chest level. “I haven't had a way to contact Wid in forever. Hell, I know I used to do this all the time before, but… It's just different now.” you sunk into him. Your gut deflated, sadder the more you spoke. “And if all goes well at the next stop, well… the kiddo will be gone too."

That still made you sick to think about. Your voice was catching and you hated it.

"It's just a lot think about, leaving you right now. I don't know what my gut thinks about it."

Fortunately, he soothed you like no other: at the first sound of distress, he’d slid a steadying hand down to your waist and pulled you close to accept his touch. His forehead met yours.

"Mhi solus tome, mesh’la, bal dar'tome" He spoke softly. "We vow these words for this exact circumstance."

It meant so much more to you now: one when together, and apart.

"My kind, we grow up with buirkan. Our carers have no formal roles. They are buir. They both share the load, they both meet the needs of their ad, their tribe. That’s what partnership is; I… I ask what you want to do, because I know no other way.”

Din caressed down to your chin, taking in your fully torn expression.

“I trust your judgment here, mesh’la. I leave this one to you; you know this kind of work better than I do. If you're comfortable.. and -only- if you're comfortable, and you -want- to do this, you have my support. Always."

You wanted to break at this trust, crush and crumble at his bouying nature. He was handing you the reins as equals, despite the hushed strain he said the words. He could say all the right things, but by no means did he not feel. You knew it wasn't easy– not even for him.

Up the repaired ramp, you caught sight of the child peeking out from the ship’s open door. He called in that funny little chirp– trying to sing again.

You smiled, despite the lurching feeling in your chest shaking you. "Hi, buddy."

He waved and watched his own steps as he hurried down the ramp.

You met his short arms just a step out of Din's hold, and brought the child up to you. He seemed to know something was wrong, because his ears fell back the moment his settled at your chest level where he'd reached up for your face. You shut your eyes at the touch.

"This won't be a forever goodbye." Din soothed you, “You know that, right?”

Din must be forgetting how poor the reception on Corellia is.

You chimed back, knowing the truth for yourself. "Gotta prepare myself as if it is, though."

"We don't know what we'll find there." Din set a hand to your low back again, unable to keep from you for too long. "The Jedi may not even be in Calodan. We could be back before you know it; and we'd wait here until your work term is done."

The optimistic thought did sound better and helped you swallow.

"That's fair. Stranger things have happened."

Your Mandalorian. Sweet, sweet Din. Under the hum of the air reserves cycling outside the ship, he cupped the back of your head and leaned against your temple.

"I know you're torn. But you don't need to worry about us in this. We’re behind whatever you decide."

The child looked to his buir. He reached a bit to his shoulder strap for Din, so you passed him over. That helmet of his hid a lot– but not tone. He clearly didn't like the thought of this either; having to explain to the kid why you’d be gone by the time he wakes up in the morning in a few days.

So he treated it like any other trip.

"How bout it, pal," he spoke with a quirk of the helmet to the Child, "Would you be ok with a solo trip for a while? Just like old times."

The munchkin cooed at this, fingers raking over the notches. He seemed happy, if he understood at all. Good thing he’s young, you thought. A peaceful hope, at the very least.

It gave you a happy comfort– for now.

The real churning would hit you when you gave Corbyn your answer. When he gave you the gameplan for the rest of the team he’s hiring, and when he got to meet your very intimidating Mandalorian husband– who he profusely sucked up to when he observed how protective he seemed of you.

When that last night came and you tucked in the kiddo and realized you'd be packing up for your first real time away from your Mandalorian: your husband.

…for the first time in over a year.

The Mandalorian brought you to bed in the most tender, gentlest way he ever had that night. In complete darkness, the way he did before he'd shown his face: where your senses would be sharpened and you'd feel everything he did, and take your time doing it.

Maybe it was a comfort for himself too, out of an old habit to shield himself while next to bare that you didn't seem to mind. Through little noises: elated, pleasurable, heartfelt, tickled sighs and begs, he always found his way across you.

–But he heard the difference between a gasp and a cry.

At the second you inhale sharply in a clear watery sniff he stopped giving kisses down your ribcage. Where he'd been massaging you with careful, trigger steady hands tucked under your sweater, Din climbed back onto his knees and shifted up to cradle your face with those same warm palms.

"Hey.. I'm right here. What's wrong?" Din asked gently.

You process by his tone that he'd halted altogether–

Hands clawed for his arms to come back around you,

"Nono no, don't stop!"

He thumbed beside your eyes, meeting wetness.

"Riduur.."

"I'm fine, jus-- just keep going, please." your snivels did little to convince him you were okay. Desperate for him as always, but not out of pure lust anymore.

Above you -practically blind- the Mandalorian tensed. Worried for your heart above all else. Testing light, brushing fingers along your neck and onto your chest, he strove to feel past your flushed, quivering shield. To soothe your skin, but also check your heart rate.

He avoided the suspicious edge in his chest with a calm, doting voice,

"We have time, cyar'ika."

"No, we don’t!-- I--"

There it was.

A kiss graced your crown to still you, then a longer one over your lips. He leaned his forehead to yours, calming you with strokes through your hair until you gathered your true thoughts. Naturally, he'd wait as long as he needed to let you continue, but he didn't need to wait long to hear your whisper.

"Tell me again this is a good idea…"

Tell me I need to go through with it, or else I'll talk myself out.

You felt lips trailing lower in soft presses, taking all your piqued attention while they went on the hunt for a sweet spot. Din’s unfiltered voice made you shiver with each bit he’d speak against the column of your neck… down and up again.

He whispered, beyond tenderness and into reverence,

"This isn't going to be forever.” A kiss to your cheek briefly, “You're going to do a great job and you're coming through for a friend. Won’t just help you, but millions in the galaxy who will benefit from the work you’re doing. This is something big, and you're being rewarded for it. This is a good thing."

You heard the smile in his voice and thanked Ashla -once again- for the Grace given to you to have a man like this in your arms.

"You're brilliant, riduur.” Din sang your praises, “You're giving up so much. But I'm really proud of you... This isn't too big for us."

You nodded, getting a grip and gaining a controlling breath.

“It’s not too big for us.”

“That’s right.”

"I'm gonna miss this." You touched his cheek, craving this proximity while you had it.

He leaned into it and kissed the palm when it slid into reach.

"I'm right here."

He is here, and the words warm you through, sending a heat wave that buzzes around your spine when you let yourself believe it. He's right here, and he is all yours. Would be, too, even if you were jumps away in the stars.

You were one when together, and you would be one when apart.

The latter would be tested soon, but that creed? You'd take both truths with you as your own.

He's right here.

And he proved it.

Din's tongue made a few kitten licks as he kissed your wrist next; then down, and down, until he merged both your fingers and pressed where you joined into the space above your head. His order, to stay there, while his left yours to send sparks down your arm on the underside, to tease.

"You know," Din's adoring tone dripped with doting interest while he resumed mapping out your body. "Just like with 'love', there's not really one word to say 'im sorry' among our people."

"You can't– say– just 'sorry'?" Your voice still sounded wet at its edges, but your chest clipped with interest. "What do you say when you kriff up, then?"

Din laughed with a rasp, but answered,

"Depends how big you kriff up. Something small, that's nothing. You'd let it go. No harm done."

–Then Din's hands made a parallel move behind your knees, pulling and pinning them up with a sudden fierceness.

Talking about a tangent: he’s talking about apologizing, but for what… He'd done nothing wrong, you thought. But you let him speak; he's enlightening you. Surely to distract, but by chik it's working.

From where he sat, he was fully between your legs and about to bow over you.

"But when I need forgiveness, true forgiveness–"

You hummed for his answer.

"Ni ceta," Din kissed your sternum. The lips dragged downward in a slow crawl, then nearly growled from the deepest part of him: " 'I kneel.' "

You gasped when his tongue swiped up your core. Every end of your body sang out its pleasure at the touch– his tasting you while on his knees. The heat made you keen. Your sweater didn't stay on for long once he started.

You shucked out of the rest of your nightclothes as easily as you could, then let your arms fall lax above your head again. He wasn't checking that you were holding onto anything, but you minded where he last left them. When you ground up, he pressed you down. When you moaned, he copied you- right onto your clit. And when you sighed his name, those expert hands massaged you within every inch of his reach.

By all means, you should be on your knees for him for as good as he felt, how he was treating you… falling only just short of worshipping you without words.

Your drop was coming, coming, coming, and you were about to completely fall apart by that tongue of his. You told him so, with a quiver to your voice and hands shooting down to stroke along his head between your thighs.

"Din– Din, Din honey…"

He purred into you with a few rounding nudges of his head.

"Yes, m'angel," he whispered in the space between you, between his kisses, "Lemme kneel for you. Lemme send you off right t'night– straight to the stars, cyar'ika."

The telltale sign was your quick breaths and baby whimpers, so Din doubled down and tamped his arms down on your waist– until you came, hard.

You cried out of complete pleasure now, your sobs turning into pitiful begs with a dazed smile that betrayed any tear at the edge of your eyes. You tried to push Din's head away entirely, but he didn't let up until he heard the actual words,

"Please!! Please, n-no more, baby–"

You minded your volume only for the sake of the kiddo outside the door; you didn't want him thinking you were in pain and taking it on himself to investigate (like last time).

Released and limber, you panted as your adoring husband simply took a hand to your core and rubbed it slow and steady to quivering calmness. He licked his own lips with a satisfied sigh in cleaning himself up.

"There she is." Din's praises returned, "There's my happy Love…"

"You're–" you wheezed, "youh-what’dya do wrong… that y’needed forgiveness?..”

He nuzzled into your neck, pleasure and prayers coating each of his kisses: to cover you with his love before you go.

“I’m a selfish man,” Din craved the warmth he found there, “Tempted to devour you where you stood, watching you run through those schematics with your boss today… Had to hold myself back by a rancor’s leash. Can only hope-” he nibbled at your ear, “-that this is enough to atone for this covet’s heart.”

Pride flooded you, invigorating. Filling you even more than his words usually did.

“Well fuck,” you sighed again, “You’re forgiven…"

Din's hands petted you, while he dropped kisses up your body this time, starting to settle. Before he got too far, you halted his ascent by his shoulders,

"But… you don't hafta leave your knees yet.."

With a warm smile you know would be there, you could only feel in the dark how Din’s loving laugh came with its teasing caress to bless you. To wish you only good memories, good thoughts, the things he promised to give you in droves. The love you so much deserved and what he was all too passionate to give you as he knelt between your legs filled you completely, the tale of which came through his tender reach: pulling your thighs back to him– one hanging clear up to his shoulder.

Delicious scratches made by his fingers skirted down that leg. ‘Want’ screamed its way through touch. Touch that you would miss so badly… touch you would crave when you laid down alo-

"Liser ni ceta, ner mesh’la? Cin vehtin, gedet'yu gar se ner riduur ru’kir?”

Din’s words sent you shivering– of course, you had no clue what half of those meant. And he knew that. Cheeky.

But it worked, you know. It always did pull you from your misery– curiosity for this man and everything about him.

“You’re tryna kill me with that mouth, aren’t you?” you chuckled. “Take my heart right outta my chest before I can even think?”

Din kissed your ankle while he teased the soft, supple core where you were about to join– the ‘last chance’ moment he always gave you. Encased in darkness, your sign of ‘yes’ in lieu of a nod was a wiggle to ‘get a move on’.

“Have that already, I think. Just as you have mine,” Din slid home and relished your sigh at the intrusion. His own groan sent his breaths reeling at the new closeness.

“Really not fair I– (ahhh) can only catch l-like– two words outta that..”

Din ground up into you. He’s not really setting a pace yet– just getting comfortable and giving you time.

“You know me. I prefer to show you what I mean anyway, Angel-Eyes.”

God those pet names… You’ll miss them as if you’re missing a limb. How will you manage..-

“Gotta remind you of what’s waiting for you when you come home to me,” Din broke you from your thoughts, “...N’... have something to remember you by.”

Relaxing around him, your eyes fluttered shut. Home– that sounded heavenly. And if you had more of this– a lifetime of it, even– well that sounded worth it to you.

And that little comment told you everything: he’s going to miss you, too.

You moaned lightly, reaching for his shoulder to pull him down. So, he released your leg to make room, and gave you a full, searing kiss once he laid flat. Even if your positions were reversed, he couldn’t meld with you any closer.

“S’this ok?” he whispered.

You whimpered your ‘yes’– a happy one, now. Full.

So you didn’t bother asking what that string of Mando’a meant– but gave your best guess.

“Then– f’you’re asking to make it last… so I can’t forget…” you begged with hands locking onto his, “then yes. Please, riduur–”

Heart thundering wildly in your chest, you caved when Din leaned in and started kissing your neck so deeply, and so strongly, that you knew you’d have no trouble remembering him for the next several weeks.

Surely it would pass quickly- life had a way of doing that. All was going to work out.

He would be here for you– together and apart.

He only broke off from the dampened skin of your neck to bow into the curve of your shoulder– before throwing his entire self into your loving embrace from the power of his hips. He kneels there, just long enough to hear you:

“Make this last for me.”

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