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themangolorian · 5 years

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Both Hunter and Prey (Pt. 1)

Pairing: Mandalorian x Reader

Summary: A game of cat and mouse between you and the Mandalorian.

A/N: Inspired by this post. Part 1 of 5. Hope this hasn’t been done. Wanted some fluff/some smut between Mandalorian and someone who won’t leave him alone and who he can’t seem to leave alone.

Warnings: Some smut, sexual content, dry humping, vaginal touching, an almost handjob, extreme sexual frustration, overall touching.

The first time the Mandalorian chased you was purely professional.

“It was petty theft!” You yelled indignantly over your shoulder at him. You never got to hear his response. Immediately you slid right down into the sewers of Kor Vella, as planned. You did hear him kick the vent in frustration. The maintenance hole was much too small for him to slip through. As you escaped down the tunnel, you heard the blaster shots aimed at the sturdy vent just next to where he’d lost you, but the shots were half hearted at best.

You enjoyed the chase immensely. There were few who could take the man in a fight, but you liked to think you could outrun him. You’d eluded him to his utter frustration and your complete glee.

That is, until he stopped pursuing you. The word on the street was that the Mandalorian had returned the puck to the client. Intrigued (you’d also heard he’d never not caught a bounty) and peeved that he’d given up so easily, you resurfaced from your reclusive temporary den under Kor Vella. Now that you had enough credits to live off for some time, you wanted some fun. The plan was to find the Mandalorian. But the Mandalorian found you first.

“That’s real dirty, Mandalorian,” you pouted as he cuffed you tightly, knowing now he had started the rumor about returning the puck himself.

He barely spoke to you. But he didn’t freeze you in carbon either; that was something. Still, all you managed to get out of him were commands and tight-lipped, one-worded responses.

He took you right back to Tralus where he’d been hired through the Bounty Guild. There, they took you from his custody and right down to a cell. You weren’t too worried; you’d been in worse predicaments than this before.

You managed to escape the cell; it had been tricky but not impossible. It wasn’t long after you were stealing a craft and jetting out of there. You’d had enough of this system, and you were sure they’d had enough of you. Besides, you had a new quarry of your own in mind. He’d found you once, he would find you again. You smiled wickedly as you fidgeted, twisting the item around in your hand. His mythosaur skull signet. The one he’d been wearing tight around his neck right before he’d handed you away. The sign of his people. Surely if a person was worth finding for their crime of petty theft, the theft of something much more meaningful warranted a quicker search.

So the second time, he chased you to recover the amulet. This time there was a bit more talking.

He found you in the Drive Yards of Kuat. You were genuinely just looking for parts, and he’d found you faster than you’d anticipated. But you were ready.

The pursuit was longer this time as you led him out of the Yards and through a dense area of forest towards your ship. He had a lot more to say this time.

Things like “where is it” and “why did you take it” and “you’re going to regret this, thief.” He was out of breath far before you were, but he had tricks up his sleeve you’d neglected to anticipate. His grappling line caught you around the ankle, taking you down. You tried to escape the line’s grasp, but then he was on you.

The ensuing struggle was both frightening and exhilarating. He was strong, too strong, but you were fast. Both sweating and tired from the sprint from the Yards, you wrestled for escape, him for dominance. But, of course, he was much too powerful. You gasped for air as he trapped your torso between his thighs, his right vambrace tight against your throat.

“Where is it,” he asked in his lowest, most threatening voice. Despite your lack of air, you smiled and looked suggestively down at your breasts.

You swore you felt him roll his eyes, but he hesitated all the same when you started rolling your hips up against his.

“Stop that,” he grunted hoarsely in his heavily modulated voice. You tried to speak but it came out choked, and he finally relented his arm, knowing he had you pinned with the full weight of his body.

“Let me go and I’ll get it for you,” you quipped.

He only scoffed, but the scoff turned into a cough when you rolled your hips again.

“Stop. It.” You heard him hiss through gritted teeth and his left arm moved down to anchor your hips, freeing your right hand.

“You’re saying one thing, but your body is saying another,” you grinned wickedly up at him, rolling your hips again, feeling the hardness against your waist, knowing it wasn’t beskar. You trailed your right hand down his rusting beskar, attempting to touch him, but he caught your hand and forced it back over your head, leaving your hips free to move again.

He growled and attempted to pin you down further, but that only increased the friction for the both of you when you rocked your hips again. This time you moaned slightly, and he froze. You could hear his breathing quicken.

Suddenly he was reaching down your tunic, and you couldn’t help the squeak that escaped you at the feel of his gloves on your bare skin. He tilted his helmet almost imperceptibly at you. The signet had been trapped tightly in your bralette, and he struggled to loosen it, and you swore he was touching more than where he needed to. Too soon, the game was over and he had the signet back in his grip.

“Don’t move,” he rasped, stashing the signet away from your view. He drew his blaster and pointed it at your head.

You couldn’t help yourself; you really couldn’t. You grinned and rolled your hips again. He groaned and reversed off you as fast as he could, but you had a plan and he hadn’t anticipated it either. Before he could stand, you were wrapping your legs around his waist and twisting around so that now you were the one straddling him. You weren’t as heavy nor nearly as strong as the Mandalorian, and he should have been able to flip you around with ease. Instead, he lay under you, the blaster now pointed absently toward the trees.

“You’re a strange one,” he rasped, and you ground your hips against his slowly to quiet him. He dropped the blaster and gripped your thighs tightly.

“So are you, Mandalorian,” you shot back in a low tone, your hands anchoring you above his chest.

“Why did you take it?” His voice was curious now, but it was strained still, by the pressure you were exerting with your hips.

You shrugged. “Knew you’d come after me if I did.” His hips bucked suddenly, catching you off guard. Instinct told you to flee, but you stopped when you realized he’d been teasing you back. An involuntary moan escaped you and you returned the favor.

“Why did you want me to come after you?” His voice was heavy with the same thing you felt, and you responded with the only answer you could. You sat up and leaned back, your hands resting on either side of his legs, as you continued to grind against him.

His gloved hand moved now to the junction of your thighs, and he ran his fingers lightly against the fabric there right at your center. He used two fingers to press down on your cunt and rubbed short sweet circles over the spot. You threw your head back, trying to catch your breath.

Unfortunately, as lost as you were and as lost as you knew he was, it was time to escape. Grinding your hips slowly once more, you made the last knot of the grippling line around his feet before leaping off him. Without a look back, you were sprinting as fast you ever had toward your ship. You heard him curse and his struggle to free himself from the grippling line. But you made it off the planet in one piece, and you’d managed to exchange one treasure for another. You holstered his blaster in place of yours. He was going to be livid.

The third time took him even longer. He had more weapons after all, not to mention a profession to maintain. But he finally caught up to you on the arid planet of N’zoth. You were almost sure he’d given up on you. You were just packing up to get off planet when the door blasted open. You dropped to the floor on instinct and rolled behind the sleeper. You were sure one of the bounties on you had finally caught up to you. But no blaster fire followed.

Curious, you aimed the blaster over the sleeping pad and peeked over to see him, and your face broke into a wide smile quite against its own accord. His visor faced your way from the door but you knew his eyes were trained on his blaster in your thieving little hands.

“Petty thief,” you heard him scoff disbelievingly as he shook his head.

He approached you slowly, in that confident stride you’d already grown used to. Whatever weapon he’d used to blast the lock off the door was nowhere to be seen, so you stood, the blaster now behind your back and tucked into your waistband.

“What took you so long?” You wondered.

He stalked towards you. “Bounties,” he finally managed gruffly. Then he was reaching out his hand expectantly, palm up. Playfully, you took the offered hand and laced your fingers through his. “The blaster.” He said deadpan, but he didn’t shake your grip off either.

“We’ll get there,” you purred, getting ready to attempt to pull him down so you could leap over him and out the open door.

As if he could read your thoughts, the Mandalorian tightened his grip and before you could do anything to stop him, he was flipping you onto the bed and cuffing you to the sleeper.

He leaned back, still crouched over you, one armoured knee resting on the sleeper between your legs.

“Only one set of binders?” You wriggled the fingers of your free hand at him, until he caught that hand in his. With his other hand, he pulled out the loose grippling line you’d used to tie his feet together all those cycles ago.

You laughed delightedly and stuck your tongue out at him with a wink. “Kinky.”

A gruff noise from under his helmet was the only response he deigned give. He leaned over and tied your hand to the opposite post, though nowhere near as tightly as he’d once cuffed you. You took that was an opportunity to softly bite his unshielded abdomen through his clothes. He groaned involuntarily.

He started leaning back, but you didn’t want him to go anywhere and he hadn’t restrained your legs. You wrapped your legs around him tightly.

He paused and looked down at you. Or at least you thought he did. It was hard to tell through the darkly tinted visor of his helmet. He tilted said helmet at you, seemingly lost in thought. Then he was leaning down, both hands resting on either side of your head, and though this is what you wanted, you quickly grew short of breath as you felt his body lower against yours.

“Why do you keep taking my things, thief?” But he didn’t give you a chance to respond because then he was running his hand down your neck, tickling a line down your chest between your breasts.

You hummed softly, unwillingly. You were supposed to maintain the upper hand. “It’s fun.” You managed finally. But it was getting harder to maintain calm because now he was tracing lines over your breast. Then he was drawing circles over your hardening nipple with one gloved finger over your tunic. A sharp intake of breath when he pinched your nipple between two fingers.

The gaze of his helmet moved from your chest to your face. “Are you having fun now?” He spoke in the same calm voice as always, but his arousal against your thigh told you he was having as much fun as you were.

He took your breast in his hand and kneaded and squeezed, rolling your nipple deftly between his gloved fingers. You had no breath left to speak. Until he was moving his hand down and away from your breast.

“Please,” you whispered feather soft. He shifted his weight to one side, never taking his visor off your face, and you watched his gloved hand trail its way down your stomach. He stopped and, impatient, you whined and rocked your hips toward his hand.

“Tell me what you want,” he commanded roughly, resting his hand teasingly between your legs, the slightest brush of his knuckle over your clothed slit.

“Touch.” You gasped. “Touch me. Under.” He didn’t move. “Please,” you panted. That did it.

He followed the curve of your pelvis beneath the waistband of your pants, tantalizingly slow. You waited with bated breath and so could not stop the moan that escaped your lips, raw and wanting, when the tip of one leather fingertip slipped through your slit and found the nub waiting there. His light touch on that bundle of nerves set something off inside of you, and the pleasure spread to every fingertip and toe.

The Mandalorian paused. “Look at me.” This time there was definitely a hoarseness to his voice, like he was barely restraining himself. You’d been looking at where his vambrace met your skin, but your eyes shot to his visor, and the moment they did, his finger began moving again, rubbing short sweet circles over your clit.

You began to close your eyes lazily at the wave of pleasure rising in you, but the second you did, he froze again, and your eyes shot open with a whimper. You stared intently his way. He began again, tracing your folds with one finger before returning to your bud.

You cried out when his middle finger began gliding further down between your lips toward your entrance. You were impossibly wet already. He slid his finger back and forth a few times gathering wetness before returning to your center. You began moving your hips, trying to increase the friction, make it go faster. You couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t think at all.

Suddenly he was pulling his hand out of your pants and swiftly standing. Your legs had been too weak to hold him, trembling as they were from your impending and now frustrated release. You snarled. He’d slipped his blaster from under you when you’d been ridiculously grinding up at him.

“You kriffing-” you growled, fighting against your restraints.

“It’s not nice is it?” He growled back. It was definitively not nice. You were simultaneously flushed with pleasure, frustrated beyond belief that he hadn’t finished you off and frantic to get free. He ignored you, turning to survey your travel pack.

He scooped something up but from your angle on the sleeper, you couldn’t see what.

“Kriffing piece of bantha fodder!” You threw yourself around on the bed, trying to use the leverage of your weight to break free, but before you could get even one arm loose, the Mandalorian had slipped out the open door.

He’d taken your data pad, the one thing among your pile of junk he knew you’d have no choice but to go after. You wanted to rage but all you could do was laugh. The Mandalorian held your livelihood in his hands, but what mattered most to you was that he was enjoying the chase as much as you were.

The next time, you were chasing him now, but in a way, hadn’t it been that way from the start?

You found him on the planet Hapes. It wasn’t hard, given that you could track your data pad’s location, within range. You gave it time though, waiting until it was clear he would be leaving soon. You waited in your own ship, watching. When the maintenance crew abandoned the Razor Crest to take a long lunch, you traversed your way up the open ramp. You ascended the ladder and hopped into the co-pilot seat, and waited.

You heard the heavy footsteps, the weaker voice of another humanoid pleading, then the unmistakable sound of the carbonite freezing process. Your heart beat increased and you wondered if you were foolish for trapping yourself in a small cockpit with only one way out in a ship manned by a natural hunter. But you willed away the thought. An escape route was always, always your first priority, but sometimes your body was just too far ahead of your brain.

You heard him climbing the ladder. For a second, and only a second, you considered taking out your blaster. But that was foolish. The doors to the cockpit slid open and the Mandalorian stepped through and looked right at you.

“What do you want now, thief?” He asked, unfazed, making sure to place emphasis on the word thief.

You blinked in surprise. “How did you know I was here?” You grumbled, annoyed you’d somehow lost the element of surprise you thought you had.

He tilted his helmet curiously at you. “Smell,” he said simply.

And your cheeks grew warm at the thought that he knew you by smell only already. But then you realized, so did you. He was earthy, metallic, like blaster fire and leather and- Pure him. You grew warm somewhere else now.

“Funny you should call me thief considering you took my data pad,” you accused, far too high and mighty considering you actually were a self-proclaimed thief.

He ignored you and began flipping buttons on the console, powering the engine up. “What have you taken since you’ve been in here?” He asked, his tone light but clipped.

You giggled. He was such a pleasure. No wonder you’d pursued this fruitless game of cat and mouse. No one else could measure up. “Guess you’ll have to find out.” You teased.

You stood meaning to leave the cockpit to find your data pad. You were halfway through the door when the Mandalorian’s large hand gripped your shoulder. “Yeah,” he agreed shortly, “guess I’ll have to find out.”

Then he was tripping you to the ground, but the palm of his large hand caught the back of your head before it hit the floor, and his other arm lowered the rest of you down.

You struggled, but he pinned you down fully with his body. You moaned against your own volition. Now that you’d noticed his smell, you couldn’t stop. It filled your senses.

Then his hands were roaming your body without restraint. To be fair, it did seem like he was searching for something, but for someone who’d yet to steal anything, you were enjoying this far too much.

He paused when his hands reached your middle, but you took his hand and urged them downwards. At the same time, you were using your hands now and he wasn’t stopping you. You trailed your fingers up the cold metal of his beskar until you met the warmth of his chest beneath all that fabric, then your fingers were tracing his arms down until they met his hands which were resting- just under your waistband? You groaned and, unable to help yourself, you moved to inch your hands beneath his belt now. He stopped you suddenly.

“Wait-” he argued, but his resolve was weak. Had been, you knew, since the first time you’d straddled him. You pulled your hands from his grasp and he didn’t stop you. You reached one warm, trembling hand under his undone belt and waistband. You heard his breathing under the helmet slow nearly to a stop.

Then your hand was wrapping around his long, thick member. It pulsed in your hands and you squeezed and the Mandalorian let out the most delicious gasp you’d ever heard.

You were short of breath too now. It was so big. So smooth. You kept a grip on him and ran your hand up and down the length of him. Then your thumb was searching out the wet precum on his tip and you sighed with satisfaction. At the same time, he jerked into your hand. He reached his hand down as if to stop you then seemed to stop himself, indecisive.

It was clear you were driving him mad. You smoothed the precum around the head of his cock, wishing you could taste it. He jerked into your hand again but then you were running your grip down the length of him again. He grunted when you cupped his balls and squeezed softly playing with them in the warmth of your palm. You took his member into your hand again and ran your grip along his velvety smoothness, trickling your fingernails along the hair on his lower stomach. Under his helmet, he was uttering words in that deep modulated voice of his, words in some other language you did not know.

You couldn’t help it. You needed to see it. You needed to taste it. You teased the tip of the head again, making him jerk roughly. You could hear him gasping for breath. You pulled your hand out and this time he tried to stop you from stopping.

“Need.” You gasped too now. “Mouth.” He watched dazedly as you brought your fingers with his precum on it to your mouth and sucked. He twitched, then was grabbing your wrist, whether to stop you or urge you on, you couldn’t tell.

“Fuck-” you heard him mutter, but you ignored him, sitting up so he had to kneel and then you were fumbling to undo his pants completely so you could have him in your mouth.

But then- The doors to the cockpit slid open with a hiss, and the Mandalorian all at once was hunter again. He unholstered his blaster so quickly it was a blur and pointed it toward the door while at the same time bringing his other hand around your head and pulling you toward him.

At first, you thought he was trying to get you to take him in your mouth as planned while- killing somebody? No, then you realized- he was being protective. With you? It all of a sudden made you go warm all over. Why would the Mandalorian be protective of you? Still, there it was. He was protecting you without a thought. The warmth at the gesture overtook your arousal. Which confused you. Escape. It was all too much. So escape it was.

“I said no droids!” The Mandalorian growled.

Good, it wasn’t a threat. Just a droid. Which was somehow a problem. Duly noted. For later.

Before he could blink, you were sliding down and backwards out of his grasp, rolling beneath the legs of the Meddroid and then hopping down through the port hole past the ladder. With the Mandalorian clearly pre-occupied with his chosen enemy of a droid, you spared several moments searching the bay before skipping down the ramp and to your ship only yards away.

You were airborne when the Mandalorian was exiting the Razor Crest, simultaneously kicking the droid down the ramp and yelling something up at you. You spared a quick second to grin and point at your ear, to indicate you couldn’t hear.

You had to hightail it out of there before he got his ship off the ground. You didn’t want to find yourself on the other end of the guns of a Razor Crest, though with his baby beside you, you doubted he’d shoot. You eyed the Amban Rifle you’d taken. He was going to be kriffing boiling. You knew it wouldn’t be long until you saw him again. You tucked your recovered data pad back into your pack and relished the chase.

He pursued you to the ice planet Hoth. It was only supposed to have been a detour for you to refuel. You thought you’d be off planet by the time he even tracked you to this system. Instead, you found yourself cursing under your breath as you approached the docking bay and saw the unmistakable outline of the Razor Crest, docked between you and your stolen ship. Luckily, the rifle was draped over your back. You’d taken to wearing it because when he caught you, you wanted him to see you wearing it.

You chastised yourself as you hid behind the ship of a Dressellian preoccupied with repairing her ship. You watched both the Razor Crest and your ship simultaneously but detected no movement. You decided to take the gamble and reboard your ship; the longer the chase, the more incensed he would be when he finally caught up to you. Just as you were passing the Razor Crest with bated breath, you saw a movement in your ship. The doors hissed open revealing a frustrated Mandalorian. You froze; he froze. For the longest moment, you both stared.

Then you turned tail and sprinted back in the direction you’d come, toward the doors to the hangar bay. You’d seen a group of parked speeder bikes and if he was going to insist on chasing you, you were going to make it worth his while. You heard modulated curses and the clank of beskar, but it was comfortably far enough behind you that you were sure you would not be caught. Not here at least.

The startled gaze of various travelers alike watched as the seasoned hunter ran you down, but you were out the doors of the bay before they could work out what was happening.

The air was chilling, biting at your face and for a mere second you considered ending the chase here; you were dressed for space cold, not arctic cold, but adrenaline drew you to the first speeder bike you saw.

You threw the thruster into the bike’s highest speed, nearly jettisoning yourself off the bike as it sped away from the hangar bay and into the cold, white wilderness of Hoth. Snow began to fall lightly. You heard the whine of another bike behind you and smiled wildly. He was unstoppable. You liked everything about him so much.

“Stop, thief,” you heard his modulated voice growl, too close for comfort over the screeching of the speeder bikes.

You adjusted the thrusters nearly down to a stop so he zoomed past you, nearly throwing yourself off again. The thrill was exhilarating. You swept left away from the direction he was turning and moved the thrusters to full speed once again. He must have had the faster bike though because he was rapidly gaining on you again. The harsh winter air was stinging your uncovered face but you ignored that, your impatience at finally actually being near him again growing.

Suddenly, your bike sputtered harshly, and you heard loud grinding from beneath you. “Kriff.” You cursed.

The Mandalorian seemed to hear it as well. “Stop the bike,” he ordered again, but this time his voice was laced with something more akin to concern than anger.

You ignored him, willing the bike to get you back to the hangar bay or at least as close as it could. You were starting to lose feeling in your fingers. Suddenly, you were brought to an abrupt halt, and this time, you couldn’t stop the inertia that carried you from atop the bike to a snow drift at least ten feet ahead of you. Luckily, it was a fresh soft pile, but it swallowed you practically whole, until you were submerged in it.

“Kriff,” you managed through numb lips and chattering teeth. You heard his speeder bike racing away and then racing back around and slowing to a stop. He was silent, but you heard the crunch of his boots on the fresh snow and felt his arm through the crisp white powder search for you. You grasped his gloved hand tightly and he pulled you effortlessly through the pile and into him.

You shivered as you met his cold beskar, but warmth radiated off his body still.

“You’re half-witted, you know that, right?” He asked you in a modulated voice full of both annoyance and...warmth?

Though your natural instinct was to get away from perceived danger, you huddled closer to him for his body heat. You smiled slyly up at him and nodded. He sighed.

“How did you even manage to run with this?” You felt him slide the slightly-too-big-for-you Amban rifle from around your shoulders and were too frozen to stop him. You watched instead as he slung it over his own shoulder.

He took a step back, and you whined. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him again. You felt one gloved finger swipe icy snow from your lips.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t leave you here to find your way back,” he growled, but his tone was light, and you were sure he didn’t mean it. Mostly.

You pursed your lips against his finger but he drew it away before you could take it in your mouth so you sidled closer to him, and this he let you do. You nuzzled his chest with your head and slung one arm around his waist. He followed your hand with his, taking it in his own, but leaving yours around his waist. More a precaution to keep you from stealing than a sign of affection.

His warmth was intoxicating. Despite your predicament in the cold weather (snow had begun falling faster), he was getting you hot again where it mattered. His shortening breaths told you that you weren’t the only one.

His other hand had come to rest on your bum and you felt him caressing you softly. Then suddenly, he was drawing away. You pouted briefly.

“Let’s go,” he commanded gruffly. “Before you freeze.”

He pulled you along behind him back toward the speeder bike and, too cold to argue, you let him. He mounted the bike and, watching you shiver, he sighed. He unclasped his cloak from each shoulder then unceremoniously draped it around yours. You reveled in the material which smelled of him.

He motioned for you to get on the speeder behind him. You shook your head. “In front,” you insisted. He started to argue, but you shot at him, “I’m cold.” He sighed again then scooted back to make room for you.

You smiled, satisfied, and stumbled toward the bike. He had to help you clamber on and once you were mounted in front of him, he hunched around you to take the controls of the bike. You melted into him as much as the beskar against your back would allow.

He grunted softly as you ground your ass into him. “Stop that,” he bit at you before turning the speeder around and heading back toward the hangar. You ignored him and continued to grind backwards into him. Despite the biting wind in your face, you were slowly warming up again. He tightened his thighs around yours and you sighed contentedly.

The darkness around you was growing rapidly just as the snow began to fall faster. You heard the Mandalorian say something under his breath. From the reader on the bike, you could tell you were still hundreds of khelters away from the bay. Strong winds were pushing against the bike in all directions, making it difficult for the Mandalorian to navigate. You stopped teasing him then.

It was no use. There was no way you were going to make it back before this blizzard overtook you both. You surveyed your surroundings, the snow drifts around you of varying heights; some were just snow, others were mountains of rock. It was getting so hard to see, that’s how thickly the snow fell now.

“There,” you pointed a shaking finger at the opening you saw in one drift. A black hole behind which could be anything, but shelter was shelter.

The Mandalorian followed your gaze and muttered, “We’ll freeze.”

“We might. But we definitely will if we don’t stop.” You argued as loudly as you could over the blistering wind.

He grunted in frustration, seemed to be determined on his suicidal course back to the hangar, then- He curved the bike, faltering in the cold, toward the area you’d pointed in, now hidden in a flurry of snow. But he had his helmet with built-in scanners; he’d get you both where you needed to be. Unwillingly, a sense of security enveloped you and you cringed at the sensation. You were never secure in this galaxy, that you could be sure of. Not even an armoured Mandalorian with a growing sense of fondness toward you could change that.

Then, he was slowing the speeder as it drifted into the black tunnel. The sudden stop jolted you forward, but his arm snaked around your middle bringing you back to rest against him. The cave was cold, though not nearly as cold as outside, but worse, it was completely dark.

Then- the Mandalorian shown a bright light from the side of his helmet. Your mouth dropped at the sight. Charcoal walls of slate rock and a ceiling of glistening, sharp icicles. The Mandalorian’s light bounced off the hundreds of icicles above, bright shiny lights bouncing off the walls of the cave, as if hundreds of candles had been lit within. But you saw past the beauty to the way the icicles could impale you both from above. You glanced up at his helmet. Well, you anyway.

The Mandalorian sighed, but his light found a tunnel at the end of the cave. He eased the bike forward slowly to rest in the middle of the uninhabited cave, then swung one leg off the bike. Before waiting for you to move, he took your waist in both hands and lifted you off the bike and onto the ground. You were still too frozen to argue.

You led the way, though his light burnt brightly from behind you, guiding you. You should have been scared, but you were mostly intrigued. You wrapped his cloak tighter around you and wandered down the tunnel, the icicles growing sparse and the air growing just slightly warmer. The chill still sank to your bones. Finally the tunnel eased into another, smaller cave. Puddles of frozen water bordered the edges. A large indent filled the center and you staggered into it, hoping it might provide some semblance of shelter.

“Abandoned wampa den,” the Mandalorian muttered, his modulated voice echoing bluntly off the walls of the chamber.

You spared him a grin. “Hopefully not abandoned or how will we get warm?” You tried for a playful tone but your chattering teeth only made you sound cold.

Still, your eyes trailed from his visor down to his groin. He sighed again and approached you. “Storm should pass in a matter of hours,” he murmured.

“I know how we can pass the time,” you joked. Well, half-joked. You actually meant the sentiment.

Perhaps he had the same idea because he was reaching for your face with his glove, but no. He pressed a tool from his vambrace to your face. A red light scanned your skin and you struggled out of his grip.

“What are you doing?”

He ignored you and clicked a button on his vambrace then sighed. “Your body temperature is falling below optimal.” So mechanic of him, you thought. Kind of like those droids he hated so much.

“Better give me some of yours then.” You ran your palms up his chilled beskar and aligned yourself to him.

He froze for a moment as you pushed against him then he let out a sigh of contentment. “That’s the idea.” His modulated voice came out low and raspy.

You moaned happily and wrapped your stiff arms around his neck, trying to gain the leverage you’d need to move against him.

He huffed under his helmet. “Do you think of nothing else?” His modulated voice seemed the slightest bit amused.

“Only around you.”

He wrapped his beskar clad arms around your waist tightly and fell to sit on the ground with you planted on his lap. He twisted you around so your back was now to his chest and brought his hands up to cover yours over your middle.

He began caressing your frozen hands, attempting to get your blood flowing again. You threw your head back in frustration, nearly hitting his helmet. He tilted his head to the side quickly, and you rested your head sideways in the crook of his warm neck. His hands trailed from yours up to your chest and neck, rubbing and caressing, the intent warmth not pleasure, though he was giving you both.

He focused on your chest, rubbing the skin over your heart with his warmth. Every time he brushed your breasts, you had to bite back a moan. Until- he intentionally squeezed one, then the other, before moving up to leave trails of warmth over your neck. His hands spread a trail of fire back down your torso to your thighs. He caressed you there too, leaned forward and massaged your knees, your calves. Then his hands were back on your stomach. He took an arm in each hand and rubbed from shoulder to fingertip sensually and slowly.

You could feel his chest move with every breath he inhaled, and it calmed you. These touches weren’t sexual and yet they awakened in you something deeper. You groaned at the sensation but not lustfully. With his hands paying attention to what seemed like every inch of you, you felt full in a way you didn’t think sex could give you. Though you could not say why, this made you sad and frustrated you. You tried to take his hands in yours and move them down to your center. There was nothing confusing about him making you cum.

“Later,” he promised in a modulated hum. He moved back to your chest, neck and arms again. You’d never felt this good. There was something too tender about his touches. He wasn’t trying to bring you pleasure. He was just trying to keep you alive. It had been too long since anyone had taken care of you in this way. It made you feel safer than you had in the longest time, and if it wasn’t so cold you might have scrambled away from his tender touch because it was doing nothing but confusing you.

You fell asleep in his arms with these thoughts kneading and squeezing your mind, much as his hands kneaded and squeezed you. You dreamt of your mother, warm and loving, of your childhood before the dark had set in. And you dreamt of strong, blazing arms wrapped tight around you, shielding you from the growing darkness of the universe.

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marginsofmarga · 4 years

Text

Great Hope Amidst the Pandemic

As much as possible, we totally want to be in control of our lives. We take time to manage personal goals which are the big things to work for and accomplish such as receiving a diploma, getting married and having a family, starting our own business, becoming a big-time executive, or traveling the globe and such. These are essentially some of the things we want to do in life and in preparation for that, we plan. There may be small interruptions like atmospherical conditions, heavy traffic or sickness and we're used to it. But in an unexpected instance, in a snap, a pandemic called Coronavirus hit us by surprise and consumed us within months. Worst case scenario: it is a huge interruption everywhere with no specific vaccine.

Everyone has been writing on this and I don't know where to start. When I first heard about Coronavirus, there was a certain fear I felt as if my heart skipped a beat, wondering what repercussions it may create. By researching, I came to understand that it's highly contagious, attacks the respiratory system and no one is an exception especially the immuno-compromised ones. Knowing the fact that there is no cure for this disease heightened up my worries — for myself, my loved ones, my nation and the world.

The world is grippling with an invisible, deadly enemy. I had a feeling that it will be one heck of a ride. This pandemic got me feeling a roller coaster of emotions. I was not in my comfort zone. I had a lot of what-ifs. Before quarantine started, usual activities were still allowed despite having early cases in the country so I couldn’t help being paranoid at school, while commuting, while going to the mall and going outside with no choice but to be exposed to a lot of people which made me totally anxious and wonder "what if I get the virus" so, I did the best ways possible not to catch it. I sanitized every now and then, did limit interactions, took vitamins, used face mask and became extra careful when going out. After school, in the dorm where I stay, I really make sure to keep my health in check so I wash my hands, eat and sleep properly. Let me just say that living a little away from home sucks especially when there's a sudden global virus. I had to take care of everything myself. I was longing for security. I just wished I could go home.

There was a time back then when I really had a hard time sleeping that I fell asleep at 4 o'clock in the morning so it led to overthinking and unwanted panic attacks. Fears abound. Such uncertainty. How long will it last? What if I get sick since I lack sleep? What will happen next? Worries kept rippling because aside from these, there were school requirements to fufill, an overall health to watch and uncertain future to come so it was absolutely tough for me and took a toll on my mental health.

Days before ECQ was imposed, it was another day full of worries and not being in control. Classes were suspended due to more cases detected. So I packed my luggage, took a 1-hour ride to get home and finally be with my family. It felt good to walk into our doorstep but even if quarantine was imposed, oh God, my worries didn’t fade. Fear and anxiety were still present. During the first week of ECQ, I still got panic attacks and sleep issues. I was deeply overwhelmed. That’s why I willingly shared my thoughts to my go-to person, my mom. It's been a long time since I had a panic attack and that time, it was difficult to control and worse, even my sleep was affected. My mom would calm me down by helping me meditate with a bunch of essential oils and by staying present. I also talked over the phone to my Kuya who's in Manila and with other loved ones so it eased out my agony. Their words comforted me. Their company patted my back. I started to feel safe. I felt much better. I stopped dwelling on the negativity. I looked into the blessings which I'm really grateful for. I prayed to God. I consciously focused on the fact that I'm alive and I have a purpose. I knew I just had to shift my perspective. I started to heal. I started to pick up my broken pieces like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Well, there’s always a new day. The virus is still there, but no one’s stopping me from overcoming my fears and doing what I love. Let’s face life no matter what. Since I'm really a home person, I didn't bother much about things to do in quarantine. These are the things that kept me going while staying at home: I do love being active so after getting up in the morning, I would pray and think about the things I'm grateful for. After that, I would turn the television on, go to Youtube and do my usual workout routine (a good sweat releases endorphins). I also got to bake some goodies, learn to cook new recipes and get creative with my makeup looks. I also do household chores and binge-watch my favorite shows on Netflix right after. I even do some home photoshoot so I get to play dress up. Spending time with my family 24/7 is a major blessing I experience amidst the crisis. Every night, I pray to God and talk to him sincerely. Prayers are the best antidote and His hands are my safe haven.

These were some of the meals I cooked.

These were some selfies I took during quarantine as I get creative with my makeup looks to avoid overthinking.

Watching my favorite series, FRIENDS. A good laugh comes a long way.

With regards to academics, as a student and as a person, I was firm on my stand to push for mass promotion of all students. Considering the situation and ongoing threat of the global crisis, health is greatly at risk. I voiced out my opinion on social media. In my little way, I wanted to help those near around me to come to our house for internet access if ever mass promotion didn’t push through. Good thing my professors were considerate enough to pass us all even if the university didn’t go for mass promotion at first. Luckily, a new memo from our school’s administration came to a decision in benefit of the students. Mass promotion pushed through.

This is a screenshot of my Mass Promotion post where I voiced out what I felt.

Just yesterday, I received a bad news. It felt devastating to lose one of the best professors I had. We didn’t see it coming. He suffered from severe pneumonia and tuberculosis. He was one of the people who believes in me and appreciates my passion. He had expert communication skills and a strong work ethic. Not to mention his great sense of humor that kept every discussion in class fun. I have always admired him. I will surely miss Sir Guban. Heaven gained an angel. May he rest in peace.

This is Sir Guban, one of my best professors who just passed away.

Giving shape to time is indeed important now when the future is so shapeless. The pandemic is a whole new ballgame with new rules being created each day. We are challenged to let go of normalcy and face a new one. I know it’s hard to gain a perspective when you are in the middle of such uncertainty; to make sense of what is going on and how the future will emerge. But I have learned that I need to trust the process because eventually, it will unleash a better version of myself, a stronger one. As I began to reflect on the reality of such a virus and trying to contain it, it became clear that it says something quite wonderful about humanity. It says that we have the capacity to shift out of our comfort zones and to quite literally work together to save our lives and the lives of others. There is a tremendous hope for humanity being demonstrated around us. We can choose to walk through it lightly, with a little luggage, ready to imagine another world and ready to fight for it. Life may hit us hard countless times but I found out that it’s about finding ways to get back up again and moving forward despite the greatest obstacles.

Always wear your face mask, sanitize, be mindful and be safe.

This is a contribution to ComCo Southeast Asia’s “Write to Ignite Blogging Project”. The initiative is a response to the need of our times, as every story comes a long way during this period of crisis. Igniting and championing the human spirit, “Write to Ignite Blog Project” aims to pull and collate powerful stories from the Philippine blogging communities to inspire the nation to rise and move forward amidst the difficult situation. This project is made possible by ComCo Southeast Asia, co-presented Eastern Communications and sponsored by Electrolux, Jobstreet and Teleperformance.

#coronavirus covid19 inspiring inspiration hope bloggersph bloggingph blogph pandemic

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