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court-jobi · 12 days

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When Asking Feels Right

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work/art))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader (fem!reader is an active pro-hero)

Words: 3.6K

Rating: T+

Warnings: canon-typical injuries, love confessions, mentions of intimacy, talk of marriage, BIG FEELINGS, light injury aftercare, language, because Katsuki Bakugou knows no other way

Summary:

You know Izuku loves you, and proudly tells anyone within earshot just how much he adores his darling pro-hero. But it's not until a close call that 'Kacchan' convinces you just how much the nerd means it. Making you pull yourself together for the sake of his best friend solidifies the fact that you are the love of Izuku Midoriya's life, and he's damn well sure gonna keep you alive to do something with that information. Bakugou might be barking at you gruff as always as he's trying to keep you conscious, but when he says it like he means it, you pay attention.

A/N: Ok yall's love for Let's Heal Each Other has really surprised me, thank you so much! Here's more of our favorite boy, feat Bakugou in full guard dog mode

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

“OI, WATCH YOUR TEN!”

Forced to the ground hard, you’re dazed– but not totally crushed.

There’s a host of noise around you that grates on your senses: groans of steel supports, concrete and drywall crumbling in batches around you; it's now just a slow burn of collapsing chaos. But considering this portion of the building just fell apart not three feet from where you were once standing, you consider this a blessing. You’d deal with a sore hip than be dead.

One thing you didn’t know was who did the saving of your ass, until you try to turn around and another support starts falling off in chunks–

“STAY DOWN, ALREADY–” a firm, hot hand cushions the back of your head from smacking the ground needlessly, but he’s not exactly gentle about it.

Dynamight?.. Bakugou– or ‘Kacchan’ as you hear him called at home– he’s– the one pulling a full body shield on you?

You cough from the debris and your ‘guardian angel’ makes sure to not press down on your back too much so you don’t feel smothered. With a gruff hand, he bats the air around your faces to will the dust away so you both can catch a breath. He hacks right along with you, he’s still human after all– but at least he does so from over your shoulder, a courtesy.

Soon enough, the shifting of earth and rock and damage settles, and Bakugou detaches himself from the kneel over you and lifts you up from under your arms to get you to a sitting position at the only remaining wall he deemed supportive enough.

You are equal parts amazed and confused watching the agency hothead acting like the most dashing hero you’ve ever seen, and you're lowkey shook that this attention is being put on you when he presses you back and crouches back to your level with a guarded eye.

"You ok?"

"Nngyeah?"

"You hurtin’?"

"Ouch. Nah, just my head a little-- OOF–”

Bakugou’s looking you over with a hard hand on your jaw, peeling aside your hair not too gracefully with tough, padded gloves, fussing over you with a concerned scowl.

“-BAKugOU!"

The pieces click together a moment too late: you'd blurted at him right as you realize why he’s looking at you like this, so intently– you're bleeding from the head.

"A fucking head wound isn't a LITTLE PROBLEM, DUMBASS- /Oi, I need a med evac at the old Sorgan hospital! Look for the smoke on the southside, that’s where we fuckin’ are–/ FUCK, he's gonna KILL ME for this!!"

You bawk at the way he looks– nervous.

Your teammate's concerned as most coworkers at your agency would be, but for the chilliest of your pals, he’s looking uncharacteristically wild about it… like he seems inclined to punch you for it if you were only in better shape. Instead, Bakugou just picks you up and sets you on some slanted rubble to get you sitting higher. While your head bobs at a lag, you watch as he’s rummaging in his waistline's pockets for that dry cloth he's supposed to keep better accessible for first aid.

"YOU DAMN IDIOT,” Bakugou gripes not too angrily, “You’re NO BETTER than he is, jumpin’ into shit--HOLD THIS–"

You're starting to worry why he's so mad. It’s not like your quirk can directly correlate to the building falling via explosives; that’s his department. You followed your path to an opening of the building altogether as directed. In the mess of it all, you had to get creative with your exit strategy which did put you at a disadvantage, but it all had worked out even after facing off with the last batch of villains before the entire wing came tumbling down.

You honestly thought he was just being heroic and appreciated him literally keeping you from being crushed- only now as you want to thank him, you're sure it would fall on deaf ears. He must be angry that you were there in the first place for him to have to tend to now.

"I-- that could have been really bad, I guess-"

"You 'GUESS'?" Bakugou's tone demands that you look him in the eye while he talks to you, right as he's staring you down incredulously, "Yeah, I saved your damn ass from getting CRUSHED, - and it's on MY HEAD if something happens to you while you're on my watch!!"

You feel sarcastic, "Well, thanks a lot, m’sorry for the inconvenience. Wassn’t my fault for the building though…”

He swishes a bit of remaining water on the cloth and jerks your head to the other way, ensuring the other scratches aren’t actively sporting fresh blood. “Tch, well running towards the sound was a pretty DUMBASS move!! Don’t know where you got that from!!”

“I can’think a few heroes who migh’...”

“Yeah, DEAD heroes!!”

Sheesh, nothing will please him when he gets like this. You tried for a last stretch of sympathy behind a pounding headache, “Well, m’sure Deku will appreciate you keepin’ me alive, so m’tryna say thanks."

"Yeah he damn well better, if he doesn’t wreck m- HEH??! SIT. THE HELL. DOWN!!"

At your try to stand up and join him in getting out of the alcove, you squatted back,

"What?!"

Bakugou pushes up his facemask more like a headband so you have no choice but to see him clearly. He smooshes your face in his palms- risky, given he's fully sweaty and the smell would be enough to turn you away-- but the way his hands are shaking forces you to stay still and pay attention.

"YOU are the love of his life, dumbass,” Bakugou threatens seriously. “You're the sparkle in his eye and you are damn good for him, so I'm sure as hell gonna make sure nothing happens to you if I can help it-- and you runnin' around with a concussion ain't making my job easier. So SIT. down."

You don’t blink or breathe.

"-I’m sat."

He fixes you a challenging look, then lets go of you to get a better view of the street to check on the ambulance.

He's protective. Because he's loyal to Izuku, he's loyal to you.

But you’re still stunned on what he said- like it was God’s honest truth and an immovable fact.

Pressing down on the tight space at the base of your sternum, you feel for something past your suit’s seam. "Did he say that?"

"Say what?" Bakugou shouts back tirelessly from the hole he’d opened for ventilation; you imagine he may not be hearing so well after this fight. Despite how cheesy it sounds coming out of you, you clarify with a hand to the gauze up against your head,

"-me being that? For him?"

Bakugou scoffs with a smirk, "Only reminds me every damn day I see him."

You can see it, after all. It happens with enough frequency that you know the two talk even before starting patrol with you. The routine of Midoriya meeting up with Bakugou like how you imagine they did in their school days: your adoring boyfriend sharing news of his curriculum workload in earnest, and retorting to his best friend’s loudmouth brand of bragging about his villain count for the week, followed by turning the tables back to Izuku and asking for the nerd’s professional opinion about his performance- and what he thinks he should be strengthening.

It makes perfect sense that you should come up in conversations, but to know now that Izuku speaks of you in this way? Past the usual lovey-dovey pleasantries Bakugou usually gags at? It should have made you happy, but given the pulse in your throat and the general ache radiating from your -everywhere-, you sniffle– Your concern weighs you to your seat now that you probably have Izuku worried sick. If he’s glued to the news for televised coverage on missions that he knows you’re working on, he would have seen this whole ordeal in real time.

And in the entire time you’ve dated Izuku, the whole relationship where you’ve stayed in sync with each other despite working in entirely different fields (namely you remaining in the clearly more dangerous one), Izuku never once discouraged you.

-Never asked you to scale back or retire for the sake of his fears over you.

-Never asked you to do anything other than ‘be as safe as you can, and do your best to come back to me’.

He believes you were a hero- just as you believed he was, too. But God, if it didn’t kill you inside to think of breaking his heart over and over as he sat on his break room couch watching close calls.

You know had he been here on duty instead of Dynamight, your sweet Deku would have been the one here trying to lift you up and perhaps put your worries at ease getting the chance to help you and see you through to safety. But Katsuki Bakugou is hardly that touchy-feely, so having to come up with a pep talk to yourself is hard.

"Oi-"

You toughen up to look back at him, but get a softer response than before.

"You're gonna be ok. I got your back, didn't I?"

You nod.

"I will, y'know. Have your back. Just don't make it difficult."

You nod again, about to cry.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, shaking it off and catching sight of the blue and red lights before he fully hears them. "You, with the waterworks too? Match made in heaven, I swear to GOD."

That night, you are hardly in any shape to drive yourself home and a bit too unsteady to even wrangle with public transit, so naturally you ask Izuku to come get you. With a faithful grin, he looks incredibly happy to see you in the agency lobby- if distracted momentarily by your expertly wrapped head and script bag in hand.

When you meet downstairs, you reign in your immediate reaction to seeing him like you normally would. It's busy tonight- teeming with interns, a changing out of a few vending machines, and a friendly spat between two other sidekicks is happening not far from the evelator you just stepped from.

The building’s deceptively cheery security officer sees you coming, and shares to your boyfriend that he is going to put on a podcast, taking a moment to fiddle with putting his earbuds in and ‘conveniently’ switch over to his shades against the setting sun, which allowed you the sneaky propriety to fully hug Izuku, as quick and tight as you could before getting in the car.

Talk in the car consisted of the usual after missions, which felt familiar and good. Obviously your darling didn’t hide his concern, but between your assurances were legitimate questions about how the villains were apprehended, what he’d watched, and the interest he gave in what the news didn’t cover- like asking more about your civilian recovery efforts and compliments about how many were saved today. This kind of cool down genuinely helped you leave work at work, and you appreciated that so much. It was a short drive, which you spent mostly holding Izuku’s hand in both of yours and receiving little kisses on that hand at stoplights.

You walked arm in arm with him up to the second landing of your apartment, with him finally running through the more caring questions of ‘does it hurt to climb?’ ‘Throbbing or dull pain?’ ‘Are you hungry, or are the meds making you feel sick?’

You knew he’d be clingy and honestly needed that constancy after such an explosive afternoon. He was insistent on taking off your coat and getting your laces off with minimal effort from you, which you adored on any old regular day– but the waterworks came flooding back so hard while watching Izuku on his heels taking care of you that you stopped him altogether.

"-I remember the concussions Denki would have after going too hard with his quirk, too- ‘Chargebolt’, I think you’ve met. ‘Course, I think it affected his nervous system more than anything else-- w' h-honey? Are you crying?"

"Please just get up here~"

You hugged him tight the second he rose to full height,

"Oh sweetheart," Izuku petted your hair as you muted your cries, "Sweetheart it's ok, you're ok."

"I love y’so much..." you eeked out from a tight throat.

The eyes unseen over your shoulder stung at your words, but squeezed in just as tight there in the foyer.

"I love you too, honey. So, so much." Izuku kept you close and just rocked you in place to ground you, "Were you scared today?"

You nodded.

"I'm sure it was scary. Would have scared me too, being caught in the middle of all that," Izuku cooed over your shoulder. "Y'know it's okay to let it rattle you sometimes. That's why we're all here to support you. Help you bounce back."

//I have your back// Bakugou’s words hit you again in a wave.

"It.. would have landed on me. I was right in the impact zone, when the southwest end came down," you sunk into Izuku’s neck at the memory, "...Bakugou got to me first. I wouldn'tve gotten out without him."

Izuku breathed out, touched beyond measure. “...he did?...”

"H'yelled at me for being stupid," you chuckled mirthlessly, "but he said some things. Really big things. And I'm just so sorry it happened at all! I don't wanna worry you when I’m out there!"

As you rushed through the emotions; not just of this fight, but filled to the brim and spilling over with other close calls like it. Izuku had a hard time understanding what was said that upset you, and just held you through it.

"C’mon, let's sit you down," Izuku picked you up like the koala you were and took you over to your couch, sitting with you perched in his arms.

No longer surprised at the incredible strength he still carried -being able to pick you up like your dead weight was nothing- you sunk into his safety, solace found in his pressed shirt collar.

Your apologies turned into cries within a few minutes of settling in.

The poor man's heart broke all over again, holding you tightly through your sobs, and hushing you through them. The crying was only going to make your headache worse. He knows this from experience, unfortunately… so even though he usually encouraged you to ‘feel your feelings to the fullest’, he did make an attempt to still you this time. Izuku pressed kisses to your warm forehead.

"Honey, easy, honey... what big things did Kacchan say?"

//you're his spark//

//you're just like the damn nerd//

//match made in heaven//

//you're damn good for him//

"Tha-That I was... the love of- your life?"

Unseen, Izuku's sights widened. But had you been watching him and not hiding in his complete, cozying embrace, you would have seen the proudest look of love lifting those cheeks of his. How he smiled despite the concern he held for you in this moment, and took a grand look around the room - at the life you were tending to and nurturing together with fondness.

"You are the love of my life," Izuku assured you gently with the sweet coupling of your name, "Have I never told you that?"

Shown, certainly, but never told so beautifully. And to have come from Bakugou’s harsh lips of all people, the revelation was jarring in more ways than one.

You whispered 'no', but didn't let go for the life of you. Wouldn't ever let go of this darling man if he’d allow you to stay.

"-M'ere, look at me. Just for a minute, look here~"

You pressed back from his hold with unwilling muscles, only to be cradled in his hands. Green eyes full of tears looked back at you but with a full, strong smile forcing bravery forward.

"You -my sweetest girl- are the love of my life. I love who you are now, and who you're going to be forty, fifty, sixty years from now,” he pet your hair back and away with a little shaky nod, “and yeah- I might lose my lunch every now and then watching you out there…”

You sniffled again, baffled at how telling you all this could possibly be making him chuckle through his words–

“--but I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve watched the same tv screen and been so insanely proud of you! To watch you go out there and win, and shine, and– I can stomach all that fear. I can do that. Because I know you and I believe in you! And I am so thankful that I happen to know the heroes you do this hard work with can help take care of you and have your back. That’s what it’s all about- doing it together.”

You hang on Izuku’s every word of affirmation. It’s the language he’s best in, no matter the subject. Thankfully, right now, he's set on putting you back on solid heartground- assuring you of everything you doubt about yourself. Your power, your inspiration, all of it.

“You’re saving people- helping those who can't do it themselves, and you do it so well, love. These scary things happen… but honestly? It only makes me love you more for facing it like you do. And getting up the next day, and watching you come at it again.”

You keen under his full attention. The praise and love he’s washing you with is so earnest and filled with pride, it kills you to ever have obligations elsewhere in the world outside of his company.

Surely you can just stay supple in his arms for eternity and no one would miss you.

“So you don’t need to be out there worried about what I’m thinking of you,” Izuku worked on wiping your blurry tears, “because I’m going to double down on replacing those worries in your head. I’m going to remind you every day of it. You’re never going to not have me in your corner, because you are the love of my life.”

Soothed and emotional in an entirely different vein, you nod you head back with a firm, brave smile of you own, before gingerly pulling him close for a little forehead touch, a well-earned kiss, and another hug latched around his shoulders.

Izuku tended to you after your hero work in a number of ways, depending on what you've weathered that day: from taking off your shoes, cooking you a meal, holding you soft and sweet against his body on the sofa like this, or even helping you burn off any excess steam on the particular amorous nights where you just feel too alive to not show him exactly what your primary reason for fighting is.

To protect him. To protect everyone you love and care for. Making your family proud both here and heavenward, and proving to yourself that you can do the hard things. Having a partner to support you in this work is an invaluable bolster in your life, and you feel it in every swipe of his hands up and down your back in this exact moment.

His touch assures you just as much as it comforts him. Tells you how much you're appreciated and welcomed when you reach the end of the day like it soothes him to have you safely off the streets. You also know that any tear-filled nights on his end come from a place of complete affection and commitment and you don't really care how much Bakugou or any of your other workmates might tease you for being soft right along with ‘the damn nerd’.

He's your damn nerd. The one you come home to and plan to spend the rest of the evening tending to your headache and scratchy throat and whatever other hurts have trickled out from your tough shell.

From about your fifth date on, you'd felt in your gut that ‘Midoriya’ was likely going to be the name you'd be filling out as your emergency contact for life, so you started doing so on your contract renewals. That probably proved he was the love of your life, too, even if you didn't say so outright.

Content to hold you forever, Izuku still asked of you gently,

“Poor thing, you gotta be exhausted. I know you showered, but would you like a bath to let the steam help?” He kissed your nearby shoulder within reach, “It'll help the drainage go away.”

That sounded amazing and all but guaranteed he'd like to stay as close to you as possible. You hummed in the affirmative, close to bursting.

“Good. We’ll get that started, whenever you're ready. Anything my brave girl wants.”

There's truly only one thought on your mind- the insistent proof of it lies hidden beneath your sweater neckline, slid onto a long silver necklace:

A ring sized for Izuku is something you've worn every patrol for a couple months now, and is practically burning as you adjust your seat on his lap to find his face.

You're fishing past your collar uncomfortably, looking for the damn thing tangled with your agency lanyard, but dead set that you can't go on without him wearing it.

“Hm? I'm here, hon’, what do you need?-- what's-… Baby. Oh baby, what's that...?”

You hold the ring still looped on the chain, lifted for him to see between fingers that don't shake anymore. Firm and steady. Because he's loved you so well and so thoroughly tonight and every night, it's the easiest thing to ask the stunned, gorgeous man beneath you,

“Marry me.”

#izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha #bnha

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ew-selfish-art · 1 year

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The Justice League team meeting was wrapping up on the Watchtower, all major heavy hitting heroes present and involved.

“Are there any final closing remarks?” Batman asks in his grumbling tone, tired from endless family antics and the shear length of the all-hands meeting.

“Yeah, uh, actually I have something.” Phantom speaks up. He’s normally very reclusive and rarely attends their meetings. The league is aware that his ghostly titles make him hard to pin down, and in general, he’s spoken often about not getting too involved with the affairs of the living. He’s all about balance so over-stepping is something he actively avoids.

“One of you is about to die and it’s getting really annoying to deal with. This is supposed to be an accommodating work space, so like, chill it out with the flowers.” Phantom announces.

“Is that a threat?” Batman instinctively replies, not taking kindly to the inclination that a team member is in harms way and that it’s an annoyance rather than alarming.

“What? No. Dude I can literally sense Death, and while she’s cool and all, I would just really appreciate who ever it is with Hanahaki disease confess already or manage their waste better. Im not bringing kryptonite to the tower so it’s not nice to keep finding blood blossoms in all the meeting room waste bins.” Phantom sounds frustrated but all of sudden alarm bells are blaring.

Batman is processing that Phantom has been working under duress when they literally dealt with Darkseid last week AND that someone on the tower was literally dying of a curable disease.

“Why didn’t you bring this up sooner?” Wonder Woman presses, her concern obvious to everyone in the room.

“And what? Exacerbate their disease for what’s basically a really bad allergy?” He rolls his eyes. Nobody liked that.

“An allergy wouldn’t kill you Phantom you shouldn’t trivialize-“

“Peanuts and bees kill people all the time. The issue is that it’s not my place to interfere with someone dying. Death would badger me for decades if I did. So like, can y’all sort out a way for them to get rid of the flowers? Or like, if it’s one of yall, could you just confess already? It’d be a huge bummer to work with you from the other side of the veil.”

*hero of your choice coughs up a petal*

“Uh, I mean I’m the Ghost king, want me to put in a good word for you? I can try to find Aphrodite in the Realms and see if she’ll help you out?” Phantom looks equally awkward as he is excited to help.

*pairing of your choice moves forward*

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc universe #danny phantom #watchtower #justice league #workplaces need to accommodate for a variety of hazards #hanahaki #blood blossoms #hanahaki disease is the origin for blood blossoms #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc writing prompt #dp x dc

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liyawritesss · 9 months

Note

Hi! I hope you're having a good day/night.

If ur requests are still open, how would you write a Miles (either one) x reader where they're trying to cook a specific dish and one wants to go by a recipe while the other prefers to wing it? Thanks!

ᴄᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴡ/ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ'

Characters: Earth1610!Miles Morales; Earth42!Miles Morales; Insomniac!Miles Morales

Type: Headcanons

Synopsis: You're the more laid back person in the kitchen. How does that play out with the various Miles' of the Spiderverse?

Warnings: A little bit of flirting mentions, but that’s about it!

A/N: Hey! So I hope you don't mind that I took a little liberty with this ask and include the other Miles' of the Spiderverse into this as well. Just a lil pick me up and a gift for the holidays‼️

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @marsfunzon22 @briology @honeybleed @romiantic @onlyperc @starsoirees @yasminisbroke @asensitivecookie @kdyance @sussybaka10 @famedrs-blog @milesismyhubby @foreclosure--of--a--dream @ykimobessed @soilmayo

1610!Miles Morales

• This Miles doesnt have a preference when it comes to cooking with or without proper instructions. I feel like he'd be down to wing it most of the time, his laid back character allows him not to think too much about the outcome and whether it'd be cook or bad.

• I feel like he'd be more inclined to follow instructions if it's a family recipe. Because of its familial importance he'll want to make it in the way he has been taught to make it all his life so he wants the familiarity to be there.

• If anything there's more goofing off in the kitchen than actual cooking, and if you're baking, expect flour to be everywhere. Even though he's a goof, he'll make up for it by being your personal taste tester.

42!Miles Morales

• Miles is actually a stickler for the instructions of dishes, especially if they're familial ones, so if you're the type to measure with your heart or until you get that ancestral calling saying that it's enough, you two are definitely gonna bump heads when you're in the kitchen.

• It'll start put nice and sweet - he's cutting up the aromatics and you're gathering the non-perishable ingredients, but then it slowly grows into him eying your movements when combining things into the saucepan or pot. You're lucky if you don't feel him literally hovering over you analyzing your every movements.

• He's trying not to point out how you're putting too much cayenne or not enough water or you're not watching the fire to make sure the food doesn't burn, but let's be real, at some point he's gonna say something about it. He honestly looks so stressed out about it you almost pity him.

• The general agreement is that when it's time to cook, one of yall is out the kitchen because both of you will get stressed out to the point of frustration and no one wants to have a spat about adequate frying temperature while the food is burning in said cooking grease

Insomniac!Miles Morales

• I think this Miles is also the type to not care about following directions to the T. My personal belief is that he's always watched his mom and Abuela cook in the kitchen together, but was always very timid about cooking with them because he didn't think he could make food as good as they did. So he prefered to watch and analyze how they used spices and discuss tips on how to get the desired outcome of their dishes.

• Once older, Miles does make his own attempts into the kitchen and they go just about as horrible as he expects them to, but he keeps at it and eventually casts aside the note cards and cookbooks his mom and Abuela had left around and gradually just started doing his own think, mixing things up to his own liking.

• Essentially he's more open to trying new things in the kitchen and I think that's works well with you when it comes to not following the exact recipes, because then both of you get to see how things turn out and If it wasn't good, you know what not to do for next time!

• This Miles is also kind of playful in the kitchen like 1610!Miles, and he views it as a form of shared intimacy, so expect him to make lighthearted conversation, jokes, do a lil dancey-dance, or even have some music playing while the two of you cook. For this Miles, it's literally all about spending that quality time together.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don't be shy to send a request!

#black reader #black tumblr #black marvel #black spiderman #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x black!reader #spiderman marvel #spiderman miles morales #miles morales spider man #miles morales 1610 #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #42!miles morales x reader #42!miles x reader #insomniac miles morales #insomniac spider man

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crushedsweets · 8 months

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OK I NEED TO CLEAR MY ASKBOX

IM JUST GONNA ANSWER A TON OF THEM HERE SO I DONT CLOG UP MY FEED....

hi >.<

this is so fucking sweet i remembered how happy i was when i first got my car. i cried everyday for a week straight because i was so happy. very glad yall got to watch me get my first car. i spend over an hour in her every day commuting now. LMFAOOO (i named her lindsay btw) ((after tdi lsinday)). im so sorry im late but thank you so much this meant sm !!! <3

you asked me this in august im evil oh my god. anyway i aagree. but i am always inclined to forever think he's a midwest emo guy. twin sized mattress forever

SHE NEEDS AND DESERVES SO MANY.

im immediately inclined to say clocky or toby the second i see time and fire mentions. so ticciwork. my clocky is often a bit messy so she'd be pissed and angry and upset over the sort of war she's found herself in, especially as she sees toby just falling deeper into it. 'my god, was i oblivious?' when she finally realizes toby will always, always put Slenderman before her. frustrating. 'hell stays hungry for a world so weak' natalie is hungry for a good world, but she thinks everyone is too weak for goodness, meanwhile toby is hungry for power so he can make everyone else seem weak. etc. 'they only want you to bleed' they being slendy, operator, zalgo, etc etc etc... power, being a pawn, fighting, using humans as toys in a battlefield, etc etc.. yeah

RELEASE ME JOEY

i genuinely think nina is a really good influence on so many of the creeps. like theyre all assholes, traumatized, refuse to believe in the good in the world, etc etc. but nina is traumatized and still kickin. she comes in like ^_^ hello chat. and i think that, while its still important to feel the shitty feelings, it's really grounding to see someone whos just so .. able to be happy. idk. someone who SEEKS joy, rather than expects it to fall into their lap, and blames the world when it doesnt

this si perfect idk why i forgot about bats for him. gotta get back into this idea

AHHH OK I WILL DO MORE EVENTUALLY i just wanna say thank yewww i think theyre such a good sibling dynamic. like little brothers and big sisters and both being little assholes to eachother but would die for the other. idk. ugh. important to me.

actually this sounds really sweet..... thats funny cuz i was JUST talking to a friend about who i would have EJ go endgame with if i had to, but i couldnt settle on anyone. but liu seems like a good fit for ej. i think they'd be super sweet

ANON ME TOO AHHHH ITS LITERALLY MY FAVORITE FUCKING THING EVER. I DONT GAF ABOUT EVIL MEAN 'CANON' SLENDER I LOVE WHEN HE'S A DAD AND WORRIES AND STRESSES. IEPFB AND KASTOWAYS SLENDY>

AH THANK YOU!!! he reminds me of my little cousins HAHA theyre like 10-14 right now and theyre all cuties.... just playing roblox and being mischievous...

THIS IS ABOUT THE BLUSHING NAT DRAWING ISNT IT AHAH OMG THANK YOU!!! i think shes so cute. i know she cant handle compliments. she's either deadpanned 'thanks' or just covers her face and says 'shut up' cuz she doesnt know what to do.

I LOVE HER TOO!!!

GOOD NEWS THEN ive drawn her a handful of times since u sent this HAHA TYSM

you sent like... natobina i think... ok tbh kinda slaps

OK REAL but also when i read it i keep reading it as 'cochina' and i cannot bring myself to name the throuple that </3 HAHA

TBH AHAHA I SEE IT. TOBYS AMETHYST GARNETS NATALIE AND NINA IS STEVEN.

i want jeff to ache in his loneliness

i need to draw connie asap but also THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN FOR THE CAR CONGRATS I REALLY APPRECIATE IT IM SO HAPPY I LOVE MY CAR SO MUCH i gotta go vaccuum her..

shes such a cat to me. feline. of sorts, if you will

also good news for you anon, i have also drawn her an ungodly amount of times since youve sent this. LOL

THEYRE MY ANGELS I HAVE MORE OF THEM !!! I LOVE THEM!! AHHHGGG

literally the second that people tell me i made them start to like clocky i am overwhelmed with joy. i feel so much ache when people aren't fond of her bc shes so fucking cool and such a good character and so much fun. so sad that 2015 era creepypasta fandom destroyed her. but im here to fix it...

IM SORRY ANON I BARELY DRAW HIM HES JUST SO BOYISH I LAUGH EVERYTIME I SEE HIM FKAHAHAAH OK OKOK ILL CHANGE ILL DRAW HIM I SWEAR

I REMEMBER WHEN I FIRST STARTED DOING EMOJI ANONS BAHAHA u guys r funny

incredibly. happy. to do this to u.

nope! im not too interested in the 2021 nina just cuz i feel like i've seen that character concept many times (not just in jane), BUT if i had to do my own intepretation of her, 2021 nina would be INCREDIBLY immature in like. not a childish way, but an entitled, angry-fueled adult who cannot comprehend anyone else's thoughts/feelings. and thus, would despise OG nina (although within reason, OG nina idolizes the person who killed her family) . but even if there wasnt a good reason to dislike OG nina, she'd be mean. and OG nina would be mad and bitch. and theyd theyd fight. HAHA

I-IF...???????? ANON?

HELD TO THE FUCKING BRIM

#asks #ok thats 30 asks.#wow #ok #i was skipping things that are requests for art/headcanons just cuz i dont wanna throw a drawing/hc in this thing so HAHA

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sylvie-fics · 2 years

Text

Enemies AND Lovers 💕

its another Viktor x reader for all you bitches out there. love yall like frfr.

Word count: 2.6K

Rating: M, minors dni

Warnings: Nsfw, reader uses she/her pronouns .

Authors note: unfinished? nah, it's an ✨Open Ending✨

-------------------------------------------------------------------

He hasn’t told anyone about it.

Sure, his intense hatred for you was real at first. One collaborative project gone horribly wrong would cause anyone to hold some resentment. Damn, though, if you weren’t the most horribly stubborn person Viktor had ever met in his life. Insisting you knew what you were doing, and that things had to be done your way. It infuriates him. You infuriate him. So unwilling to listen, so unwilling to work with people. He’d been frustrated with Jayce before, sure– But you seemed to bother him on another level. He’d never been so heavily inclined to go buy a dart board, put your picture on it, and throw sharp objects at it.

He hated you. Or, at least, he did. For the past few months, he’s just been pretending. Maybe because he thought about the situation, and after some self-reflection, learned that he too was in the wrong. Maybe it’s out of desperation to keep his pride intact, because he just can’t let you win.

By all means, he’s ashamed of how he got himself into this situation. One day it was an innocent, “Should we hire an assistant?”. Then, it was asking Heimerdinger if he knew anyone that would be a good fit for the job. Oh, the way he spoke of you as though you were some sort of genius. Y/N would be perfect, Viktor. You know, she’s from the undercity too, Viktor. I’m sure the two of you would get along great, Viktor. Despicable. Surely, you must have bothered Heimerdinger just as much– and this was the perfect opportunity to pawn you off on someone else. Now Viktor’s stuck with you, and suffering every day because of it.

Jayce, on the other hand, is almost certain Viktor’s been denying his feelings for you… well over a year now. And whatever happened a few months ago– and he *knows* something happened– has turned him into a desperate, lovesick puppy of a man. He finds himself frustrated trying to piece it all together. Everything was fine at first. The three of you worked together in relative harmony. Hell, he’d even say that the three of you were friends. There were times when the three of you could go out for lunch together, or sit in the same room without screaming at each other.

And then somewhere along the way, you and Viktor realized you were both stubborn people who had trouble understanding “compromise”. Viktor would call you difficult. You’d call him a couple of choice words. The two of you would glare at each other, and then refuse to look at each other.

Eventually, the hostility became constant. Unbearable, even. Jayce had to mentally prepare himself every day for the warzone he called work.

Something happened– but no one will tell him what. Frankly, it's starting to bother him more than the hostile work environment did.

It’s painful to watch Viktor’s display of poor acting. On many occasions, Jayce has had to bury his head into his hands, truly astounded by how awful his friend is at hiding his feelings. He sees the way Viktor blankly stares at you– like– like it doesn’t even register that he’s staring! You’ll look up and stare back at him sometimes, waving your hands around trying to bring him back down to Earth. He’s just… trapped in his thoughts, or daydream, or whatever is going on in his head. The worst part of it, though? When he does snap back in reality, he glares at you, and says something along the lines of “What are you staring at me for? It’s rude, you know.”

He wants so badly to call him out on it. The way Viktor stares at you with adoration, and then unconvincingly says something about how much he despises you.

On that fateful night Some months back, Viktor had gotten an unexpected knock on his door. In all fairness, most knocks on his door were unexpected. He wasn’t the type to have company often, but furthermore he wasn’t the type to be outside of the lab much. All in all, a rare occurrence– Viktor outside the lab, and with company.

Though, he can’t say he was initially happy to see the person on the other side of the door. Harshly interrogating you on what you wanted, and why you were here.

“You argue with me a lot, and your existence generally makes me angry. Would you agree it’s fair to say we have a deep-running and intense hatred for each other?”

“Obviously.” he responded.

“So, here’s the deal. I’m like, basically the modern day succubus. I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you fall in love with me – at the very least on a sexual level– and then you’ll suffer every day after. Every day. You see me in the lab? Hard. On the street? Hard. I’m about to destroy you. I’ve got so many years experience of destroying men. Do you wanna know what death feels like? Because I’m gonna suck and fuck the life out of you, bitch.”

Every word that came out of your mouth was simultaneously as horrifying as it was endearing. He felt such an intense mixture of both fear and arousal– and out of that came his stunned silent response of nodding his head and opening the door a bit wider, thus inviting you in.

The rest of the night was a haze to him. He’d yet to convince himself any of it actually happened–It was more like a fever dream that encompassed all of his senses, and then some that had yet to be discovered. He spoke languages that did not exist. Found 7 whole new wonders of the world. He had his head thrown back, eyes rolling, whole body trembling, whimpering and moaning like he’d gotten hit by a truck.

He couldn’t hear a word you were saying over how loud his heart was beating— and he could feel his heart beat in every part of his body.

At some point, he’d lost track of how many rounds the two of you had gone. Your rage induced hate sex truly knew no limit, it having given you the stamina of a god.

He was sure after you’d physically destroyed him, you’d walk out of his room and leave him for dead. He almost wishes you would have. Rather, you took care of him the rest of the night.

Viktor could handle you re-dressing him a bit. However, what he couldn’t handle was the way you laid his head on your lap and ran your nails against his scalp. He melted into you, murmuring words of praise he would never otherwise dream of saying to you. Truth be told, he was so out of his mind that he couldn’t be spiteful in that moment. He couldn’t even remember why he disliked you so much. He still hasn’t remembered.

You kept speaking so softly, talking about your past, what you wanted for the future. He’d fell asleep some time in between the topics of your favorite books and your favorite kinds of flowers. Periwinkles— he thinks. Though, considering he dreamed about taking you to a field of flowers, he might have just made that up.

That next morning, you’d stealthily crawled out of his bed. He’d made a desperate effort to grab your wrist, a whine escaping his lips.

“No…” he pleaded.

“I have to get ready for work, you’ll see me in a few hours, won’t you?”

He tried pulling you back in, clearly upset by the resistance.

“You’ll get cold. Come back to bed.”

You placed your hands on his face, planting a quick kiss on his forehead, “I have a jacket, it's alright.”

And with that, you were gone.

The change was immediate– and noticeable, too. A bit overly noticeable. Jayce never considered himself the best when it came to emotional talks, but usually he was– at the very least– able to shovel out a “I’m sorry to hear that, bud.” or “I’m here for you, man.”

“... and furthermore, what does it mean to be a good person in this society?” Viktor continued, not even having touched the food in front of him. He’d been talking for thirty minutes straight about morals and society. Jayce had already finished his lunch, and desperately watched the clock, only hoping this lunch break would end soon. He hasn’t got a clue how to have… whatever conversation they’re having.

“Am I a bad person for hating one of my own people? Hate… what even is hate… it’s just a societal concept made to divide us. I am a victim of society for perpetuating hate.”

Viktor looked like a hollow shell of a man with a voice box hastily thrown somewhere inside.

“Now all I can do is suffer. I’m hurting in places I didn’t know could hurt. Do you think that's the true human experience? Pain? Suffering? What if I were to evolve past pain and suffering? What if I just felt nothing at all?”

Jayce has expressed his concern. Hundreds of times. For whatever reason, though, no one will tell him what’s going on. Frankly, it’s making him upset. He’d like to think you’re all fairly close friends with him. Aren’t friends supposed to talk about the things that are upsetting them?

“Well… aren't they?” Jayce asked, looking over to Mel.

Jayce has found that venting about this situation to someone has relieved some of the stress. Mel seems to have a rather keen insight on things, especially when it comes to complicated emotions--Jayce was thankful for that– it had gotten him out of some bad situations a number of times.

“He’s probably got a thing for that girl… oh.. What's her na–(y/n).”

“But he… I don't know, Mel. He really hated her before. They just sort of argued about everything. They could have the same idea and would argue over who had it first.”

“That's why he's so upset about it, then. Can’t convince himself he hates her anymore, doesn’t wanna look like he’s head over heels for her.” She moved to a desk, pulling out a pen and paper, writing something down “So, my thought is, say you were to give her this anonymous letter. It’s a pretty intimate letter. Viktor somehow sees this letter. His reaction would be rather telling, wouldn’t you think?”

“I– something about that feels wrong, morally.”

Mel looked over for a moment, seemingly confident in her plan, “No, no, look, it’ll work. Tell me about her!”

“Well..” Jayce began, “I think she's got like… her eyes are sorta orange, maybe? I mean. She talks, but not too much. Kinda just gets focused and gets quiet. I guess she's kinda flowery? Just generally smells like flowers? I don’t– I don’t really pay that much attention, I just get invested when the two of them start getting into it. They're all– let's do it this way– no let's do it that way– you're gonna die if you stay up all night every night– don’t tell me what to do– dont tell me what not to do– you don't sleep either– well at least i eat properly, you always say you're too busy to join me– well you just always eat at the wrong time….”

It was in that moment that Jayce had a realization. Maybe, just maybe, the two of you didn’t hate each other. Maybe it was just that both of you had very aggressive ways of caring for people? Now that he thinks of it, almost every argument he’d seen the two of you have were over each others health and safety. Arguments over sleep. Arguments over what to eat. Hell, the worst argument he ever saw was when you insisted you’d be fine wearing sunglasses for welding. Or maybe it was when Viktor decided to use a blow torch without gloves.

You two don’t hate each other. You deeply care about each other, and it’s been that way for a while.

“Yeah… give me that letter.”

“I can’t believe someone would be so shallow. So idiotic.”

Viktor grumbles, pacing back and forth. His brows furrowed as he angrily read off the paper.

“Your– that's not even the right eye color– shines like a thousand suns.” he continues, rage seeping into his words, “Here, it compares (Y/N) to a perfect bed of roses. Wrong.”

You let out a slight ‘ouch’. You knew you weren’t perfect, but he could have left that part out. Talk about hurtful. Though, you had to admit, it was quite entertaining watching him get this upset. You unsure who you’ve managed to swoon enough to send a middle school-esque love letter– you can’t really recall meeting or flirting with anyone. (Outside of Viktor, that is.)

“Her favorite flowers are periwinkles. It would be more accurate to compare her to those. At the very least, they would know that she wears a perfume that smells like honeysuckles. Why not those? She doesn’t even like roses. What kind of love letter is this?”

Jayce’s gone into a state of stunned silence. Sure, he knew Viktor to be a bit of a perfectionist when it came to all things science… but this was new. He looked like he was about to explode, just fuming with anger. Meanwhile, you’re leaned over your desk, tears streaming down your face from how hard you're laughing. Mel was definitely right about this.

“ ‘I admire your’... there’s no way someone would write this in good conscience, ‘Quiet and submissive personality’?! Quiet and submissive?! (Y/N). Quiet and submissive? Have they met her?! Quiet and submissive…”

“Oooh, look at me, I’m such a rose-y woman who’s so quiet and submissive~” you joked, shortly before falling back into a laughing fit.

Viktor slammed the letter back on your desk, physically showing his disapproval of this fictional anonymous admirer. If looks could kill, the anon would be long deceased.

“You’ll be making a mistake if you pursue this romantic interest. He obviously doesn’t know a thing about you.”

Viktor watched your face closely for any sign of confirmation or rejection. He was already rather upset by the idea of someone else being with you, but he knew it could get worse. If for some ungodly reason, you decided *this* was the person… oh, that would be the end of it. He would lose his mind. Surely you wouldn’t stoop to that level, letting someone who doesn’t even know the color of your eyes be in your life like that. You wouldn’t do that, right?

“What– why would I do that? What, you think I like people who just… do everything I say and worship me like I'm some sort of goddess? I mean, like, maybe sexually, but outside of that...”

“Good. You know, some people just don’t even get to know–”

You interrupted Viktor shortly into his rant,

“… besides, I like you.”

The room went solid for a solid minute– though it surely felt like hours. You, anxiously awaiting a response from… well… anyone at this point. Viktor, Unsure if he truly heard you correctly. Jayce in pure disbelief that he’s witnessing this. Heimerdinger, passing by to drop off some papers, but immediately looking into the room and deciding this wasn’t the best time.

Viktor was the first to break the silence.

“...eh?”

“Oh… i'm sorry I- I thought you knew.”

“Wha–”

“That time I came over and made up a whole thing about how I'm gonna make you fall in love with me. That was me confessing. I was already in love with you. I'm sorry, I really should have made that more clear.”

#arcane x reader #league of legends viktor x reader #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader

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hayjeon · 9 months

Text

🥹

hi everyone, i know it’s been quite a while.

i don’t even remember how to use the app/site well enough to find when the last time i posted a fic was (like, where did the time stamps go?!)

i bet this won’t come as much of a surprise to anyone who’s been following me for a while because i clearly went MIA for a few years. just wanted to pop back in and clarify a few things and let yall know i am alive and well 🫶🏻

WHERE TF R U

i have, unfortunately, moved on from my ff writing era of my life. i’ve seen all your messages of support and reactions to my writing and constantly see the reposts and recs made in my email inbox, and i cherish each and every one of them and do miss yall very often. i am currently now working and traveling full time, and am just past the era in which i used to absolutely love bts/kpop. i’m actually now an avid ao3 dramione reader 😂 and have devoted a lot of my time to getting physically/emotionally healthier, furthering my career, and just pouring love into myself and everyone around me 🤌🏻

DO YOU EVEN LIKE BTS ANYMORE

i still do love/listen to bts, but i’ve also been feeling like i’ve outgrown them a bit and no longer actively read bts fics myself 🥹 but to sometimes come back to my own blog and my homepage to see that other writers are still here and dedicated makes me feel so giddy and happy for them. watching bts grow from their boy in luv era when i first became a fan to the degree they’re at now and even when i stopped actively writing (probably when they started breaking into the US/english lyrics, or covid era) was such a big life landmark for me, and i will always cherish them in my heart for that. i will also always cherish this blog, that kept me actively writing, throughout uni, and actively creating content anonymously, for helping me through some hard times emotionally, physically, and mentally.

WHATS GONNA HAPPEN WITH UR FICS

i don’t think i’ll be updating any of my wips: any writer out there who feels inclined to continue the stories, i give you full permission (pls don’t plagiarize!) and would hope that you drop a quick msg in my inbox when you post so i can read them (better than tags!) 🥰 would also be happy to share where i intended a lot of my fics to go plot-wise. i also deem it would be a disservice to a lot of you for me to release unfinished drafts, but im happy to share that as well to anyone who wants to pick it up, or just are curious where the plots went (lmk if ur into that?)

WHAT ABOUT THIS BLOG

i will be keeping this blog up and active. anyone who wants to pop in and re-read anything: thank you for your continued support. feel free to translate, repost, use as inspiration, continue the stories yourselves, and do whatever you want. i’m sending these fics as a love letter to everyone who’s supported me thus far, and anyone new to the fandom (welcome! i know army has increased so much since i left) into the universe and all i can do is release them with a sense of peace and love, although it’s a bit bittersweet.

CAN WE STILL ASK QUESTIONS

of course 😍 i love seeing them in my inbox so continue to ask away!!!

to conclude:

thank you to everyone here.

thank you to bts and hope for a quick and safe army service to all of them.

and happy new year 🫶🏻

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grimsneverendingfuneral · 7 months

Note

Grim where is that rosekiller fic you were teasing us about? 🤨

damn. yeah :/ probably never gonna be posted lmfaooooo. or maybe like. in a long time

im sorry im really inconsistent with shit like this. my writing, i mean. i knew this when i started writing the fic but i went in anyways, teasing yall and shit. im just a fuckin tease, truly

i can give you another long-ish snippet under the cut if you want something to chew on

A pair of marigolds are provided soon after, which Barty doesn’t wear, and Evan is almost inclined to offer a helping hand, shocked at how little protest Barty gives him.

He gives him none. With the compliance of an automated coffee machine, Barty steps up on the ladder and starts scrubbing the walls above the bathroom sink with vigor, eyebrows drawn down and lips pinched together.

Evan stands, watches him do so, observing him with clinical attentiveness – his eyes caressing over Barty’s every bump and curve; the sharp elbows, the hills of his hips, dipping into slackened black jeans, loose enough to reveal heart-patterned boxers. The slope of his back, jostling back and forth with each swipe of the sponge, accompanied by the muffled sound of shallow breathing, an occasional sniff. The skin on his fine wrist, the veins pulsating beneath with hot, slick blood, black with lack of oxygen, crimson when exposed to the light. It makes Evan’s hands tremble, iron grip beginning to slip on his resolve, trying to put together the gloppy, scattered gray matter of his mind back together in a panic.

Barty looks down at him. “Hey blondie, you got any drugs? My Vyvanse is wearing off.”

Evan’s mind is suddenly spun wildly out of orbit, smacking on the wall. “Uh–”

“Can I look in here?” Barty asks him, already pulling the cabinet open.

“Stop!” Evan shouts, slamming it shut.

Barty just laughs, nearly falls off the ladder.

Evan huffs, raking a hand through his hair. “You’re going to fall, Barty,” he berates, strutting to the corner of the living room where he keeps his drug paraphernalia. “Barty. What kind of a Jesus apostle’s name is that?”

Barty laughs again, throwing his head back and swaying back a little. “You’re funny. Pretty and funny,” he tells him pervertedly, pressing the sponge into the wall and scrubbing. “It’s not my name, not really. It’s my dad’s. You wouldn’t believe my full name even if I told you.”

Evan stares at him for a few seconds, hums, then flicks the lighter to the bong’s bowl, inhales. It bubbles between them, milky smoke curling up the straight tube, between Evan’s lips.

It’s a green glass bong, and the color of it reminds him of Barty’s.

Chromium.

It’s the color on the wheel opposite to crimson, and Evan wonders if he’ll ever get to see that color. Maybe on his floor, like an inkspill in the form of something divine; the essence of Barty and the vibrance of his innards, twisted and warped around each other, creating a hue of dacre, shiny, marooned plum, perhaps.

Coagulated, fleshy matter and bits of weed, scattered in all the cracks in his floorboards, pouring into the bathroom, tainting the linoleum.

What happens when bleach and blood mix? Does it create something that wasn’t there before? What does it feel like to slather your hands in it, to touch the inside of someone?

Does Barty have an inside?

From above him, Barty’s resonant voice cuts through his aching mind. “Why did you let me in here?” He smirks. “Don’t you know about me?”

Evan blinks, remnants of smoke falling from his lips. “Well, why did you follow me? Don’t you know about me?”

“Yeah, I know about you,” Barty says around another cheeky smile, tongue between his teeth. “I told you. I see you, you know, around campus.”

Evan narrows his eyes. “You see me?”

Barty nods, wipes at his leaking nose. “Around campus. You’re always listening to that music, looking like you’re having prophetic visions. It’s pretty alluring. Damn, this bleach is–”

“Are you feeling faint? Dizzy?” Evan asks him, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. He quickly clears his throat, pushes a strand of hair out of his eyes with his index finger. “You should– take a break. Sit down for a moment,” he adds apprehensively.

Stalling. He’s stalling. What exactly is he stalling? Is he really going to hurt this person? Does he really want to go through with this?

Evan’s eyes flit to the various objects in the apartment.

Bleach to scrub the blood. Bong to diffuse the tremors. The Persian carpet he bought at an auction. He would have to remove it from the living room. Is the bathtub big enough for Barty’s body? He could fold him. Does he have enough hydrofluoric acid left? What would he use? One of Pandora’s expensive Japanese stainless steel knives?

Evan looks away from his unholiness. “Well, I don’t know about you. Never seen you before in my life. Why should I know about you, anyway?”

Barty scoffs, a dismissal of Evan’s tone, canines showing through a smug grin. “Okay, I’ll sit.”

When Barty perches himself on the ladder, half-sitting on the third step with his legs stretched out, there’s a moment when their eyes meet.

Evan notes that Barty doesn’t look away, doesn’t flinch. His face twitches, eyebrow raising just slightly.

He’s so long. Long and languid, and Evan thinks maybe Barty’s the panther now, the way he’s looking at him like he wants to push him up face-first against the wall.

Barty tucks his bottom lip into his teeth, feet resting on either side of Evan’s as he stands stiffly in front of him, bong in hand.

And then something absolutely earth shattering happens.

Barty’s foot wiggles, brushing the inside of Evan’s foot arch, sock fabric rubbing on sock fabric.

The feel of it makes Evan’s throat dry up, his guts clench. He wants to lean away, get that heat emanating from Barty’s body far, far away from him. Wants to lock him up in a basement, throw away the key, leave him there to beg and cry and moan.

Barty gently takes the bong from Evan’s tight grip. “Well, if you want a semblance of truth, blondie, I’m damaged goods.”

Evan raises a brow, watching Barty’s adam’s apple bob with a harsh swallow. “Damaged goods?”

Barty nods, takes a hit from the bong. When he tilts his head back, he blows the smoke into the light, casting a thin veil over their heads. “Yeah,” he croaks, coughing slightly. “I’m shit. But hey, at least I’m me. I’m shit but at least I’m me.”

“Well, we are all just insects groping for something terrible or divine, either way,” Evan tries to reassure him, for some odd reason. He feels compelled to soothe the slight twinge of self-hatred behind Barty’s eyes. “That’s Philip K. Dick.”

Barty coughs into his elbow after another hit. “I think you’re divine,” he says through a cough, eyes watery, rimmed pink.

Evan clenches his teeth. Barty smiles.

Smiles with his sculpted, flushed cheekbones, mouth in a perpetual state of laughter, like it’s all so absurd to him.

Evan turns his eyes away. “You don’t even know me,” he grimaces. “You’re a fool if you think I’m anything close to divine. I’m a wretched person.”

“I like wretched. Wretched’s good,” Barty affirms, reaching out for Evan’s wrist.

His own pulse against Barty’s thumb pad makes him nearly gag.

#anon #rosekiller #fic: when the lights go out #oh barty. youre everything

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sky-is-the-limit · 3 months

Note

So huge tldr: someone made a post which didn't include gaz in it (because they felt it didn't fit his character), another person made a screenshot and posted it (but hid the op name, but still people figured out who it was). The screenshot was taken out of context, op was made out to be a racist, was attacked on anon and in the end made a last goodbye post. For context, they're a USMC veteran who recently got out of serving.

@sheheal tried to locate them (but did so in a few hours soooo). Visit their profile for a tldr on the op's situation

At the same time, the entire fandom turned in on itself. The person who posted the screenshot was harassed, the people who asked for apologies (albeit kind of aggressively) were harassed, everyone was harassed. Lots of blocks etc.

Now a few other people started noticing some holes in the story. @391780 has a full tldr on it. Now, @fulltacs had been blocked and unblocked by myka. So it's a huge fucking mess.

Personally, if you ask me, the original "screenshot this post and put it out there, and people take it out of context and go harass someone" shouldn't have happened because 1. That original post was based on character and not fucking skin colour 2. Bullying is fucking horrible, especially sending loud fireworks noises to someone who's very likely having PTSD.

Unless we get proper proof about what's happening, I'm inclined to believe that the op is still gone, some crisis worker had gotten access to their info somehow and etc. I'm willing to believe that something might be revealed in the next few days, and until then, I'm holding myself stagnant.

Just feels like people are trying to one up each other now. Fucking horrible.

Pardon my fucking French but what the fuck??????

This fandom is literally the worst fandom I've ever been in.

You're telling me that someone faked their death because of a Call of Duty post? A grown adult? Are yall fucking okay in the head?

Can yall just RELAX for a second? My brain will never understand the effort some people will put to go harass other human beings online just because they feel like it.

I think I might have to extend my cod break because this fandom keeps getting worse and worse.

I'm gonna go look into this further because it's truly insane and come back to update this with a better answer cause I'm in shock rn.

#ask #cod

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maybe-arts · 6 months

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Hi maybeher0! If I’m not too late for the ask game, any combo of ⚡️💥🪄🔮🦋 for any oc(s)?

nononono you're not late at all!! in fact yall are welcome to send more, i haven't got a lot of those and would love to ramble (the post is here for anyone wondering)

anyways, let's spin the wheel and see who comes up!

(legitimately gonna set up a pickerwheel for this thing lmao)

(the reason the wheel is uneven is those who i actually have designs on hand or drew at least once are given more priority)

⚡️ (Lightning Bolt) - Which Power Effects [Blizzard, Bluster, Sizzle, Splash, Zap] would their attacks grant? Do they have any particular weaknesses or resistances, elemental or otherwise?

spinny wheel said this one is for Nova

Nova has the same Copy ability Kirby does, so by default their attacks have no elemental property and depend on whichever ability they currently possess. Given how by the time Nova arrives, Kirby is capable to switch abilities without needing a catalyst (aka without swallowing anything/anyone) and Gooey is able to do the same, but within a single moveset, I'd imagine adult Nova would be able to infuse their own weapon abilities with element from get go. Yknow, best of all worlds!

In the same vein, they don't have many elemental weaknesses. Astrals are tough creatures by their nature, made to be able to withstand absurdly extreme enviroments, so Nova isn't affected a lot by temperatures. in terms of matter/magic, they may be a touch weak to Dark as of now, due to their origin/core memory, but I'd imagine they will grow more resistant to it in the future.

💥 (Collision) - What’s your OC’s combat style like? Do they adhere to any particular code of honour or ethics in a fight, or are they totally unfettered by that sort of thing?

a big surprise! I don't think i've showed Debbie on this blog yet XD (for reference, she's Kawasaki's daughter that i based on the disguise Kirby and Dedede did in the first novel)

Debbie is more of a support fighter, like her dad, Vividria or Adeleine. She prefers to stay away from direct combat and use her baking/cooking skills to keep her allies alive and well. Not exactly a healer, but somewhere around that matter.

I do imagine a frying pan to the noggin as emergency self-defense would still hurt a lot tho.

🪄 (Magic Wand) - Are they capable of wielding magic? Is it a learned skill, or is it innate? What sorts of spells can they cast? Do they possess any magical items or artifacts? [e.g. the Dimensional Mantle]

wheel, why. I already talked a lot about Beamee's hurdles with magic, I wanted to choose someone else PLEASE.

Beamee is half-Doo, as you may know. In my kirbyverse, Waddle Dees, despite having strongly Zap-inclined Waddle Doos as closest relative species, are strongly magically insulated, meaning they're naturally incapable of wielding or conducting magic of any type on their own. (Tool-based abilities like Parasol, Archer or Spear do not count, this is all skill and/or weapon enchantment.)

And then there's Beamee.

Technically she can wield Zap elemental magic in form of Beam, but her Beam is... wonky at best. Plus her magical insulation as a Dee means she's having a hard time to actually focus and release the pent-up energy, leading to frequent migraines.

Tabitha made a small rod for her to help alleviate these issues, thankfully. Also the tiny girlfriends did talk at length about Beamee's magical troubles here:

(Tabitha LOVES to infodump about research.)

🔮 (Crystal Ball) - Out of all the treasures in the Great Cave Offensive, Kirby is letting your OC pick one from his stash to keep! Which one do they pick, and why?

If the wheel picks Beamee, Nova or Chiffon, I'm rerolling this thing.

...and it's none of those! It's Hooddini, my marxolor accidental fankid.

Hoodie would probably really like this thing:

He's a firm believer in luck, given circumstances or his "birth" (that being a "happy accident") so he collects a lot of things that bring good luck. Plus, this one reminds him of his cat dad!

🦋 (Butterfly) - Does your OC ‘fear the reaper’, so to speak? If they fused with Morpho Knight, what sort of form would they take on?

(offtopic but it's funny how on mobile app this emoji is a blue butterfly, but on website it's an orange one)

Almost wanted to not spin bc I actually do have a character in mind, but...

it's not the one I thought of, but it'll do.

As a child, Mona doesn't essentially fear death - mostly because they didn't encounter it personally. They did felt some sort of longing whenever a certain red butterfly was around.

As an adult tho, Mona still feels the same longing, but actively understands that it's not missing her mother, as she initially thought. It's more like she's missing being around a person that this butterfly reminds her of. (Gooey gets the same feeling, by the way. A trip to a certain retired knight does clarify some things once they learn about Nihil.)

As for the fused form, I gotta whip up CSP, hold on-

Here we go! A quick-ish sketch done. Morp becomes a magic witchknight bc I said so.

#kirby #kirby fandom #kirby oc #beamee #debbie #nova #mona #hooddini #in no particular order #morpho is fucking difficult to draw who made it i just wanna talk #i'm still open to oc questions btw!!

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thewickerking · 2 years

Text

forgot why i avoid the rwde tag... like i wanted to get other opinions from ppl critiquing rwby bc i do it myself all day long and can surely miss some things and its good to keep ur mind open etc etc.

but somebody said smn along the lines of "if rwby had come out five years earlier i wouldnt claim its as homophobic as it is" (???? awful start) "but rwby came out in 2013. you know what else started airing in 2013?? Steven universe. korrasami become canon in 2014. Something about garnet in 2015. rwby has no excuse" LIKE WHAT.... yall gay marriage wasnt even legalized in the us like....

im not defending the homophobia of cast and crew members behind rwby and whatnot but theres very little homophobia in the actual show (i am not talking about promotional material or queerbait type discussions i just mean the actual show by itself) like theres not nothing, like jaunes man in a dress thing in volume 2 wasnt great and there couldve been a much better introduction of ilia and reveal of her being a lesbian (but ultimately shes like. a misguided teen who makes mistakes and changes for the better in like. a single season) and im sure some other tidbits im missing but like.

rwby isnt super homophobic ??? and saying its only bad cause it came out at the same time as steven universe but wouldve been ok if it was older is so??? bizarre???? like steven universe discourse aside (pls do not send me asks about steven universe) like. steven universe got censored and cut short for being as explicitly gay as it was. hell the owl house is having the same thing done to it right now, several years later.

anyways ive got a long list of issues with rwby i will recite at the slightest inclination someone wants to hear it, but homophobia isnt an issue i have WITH THE SOURCE MATERIAL, EXTERNAL MATTERS ASIDE (thats a whole other can of worms) and its such a footnote compared to other issues

oh also i scrolled a few posts down after quitting reading that post and they wrre having a conversation about someone on twitter posting an image of harley quinn and poison ivy with an editted image of crackers next to them and they said the tweet was ignorant bc of harley being jewish and implied the only reason harley quinn is pale is bc of the toxic chemicals she jumped in like..... shes literally blonde with blue eyes like yes shes jewish but shes still white and jewish people arent a different race.... why would you act like they are and frame it as progressive like. you do realize not considering factually white jewish as white is like. beginners antisemitism talking point..... like im not jewish so please let me know if im overstepping but harley quinn is white and i dont think someone calling her a cracker is suddenly antisemitic (if you disagree i am completely open to listening)

#i cant stand rwby critics i cant stand rwby fans the slim group of rwby fans i can stand are either my friends or the 4 rwby fans i follow #homophobia mention #antisemitism #ask to tag further?#.ares

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miseries-mistress · 2 years

Text

ETERNITY IS A LIE | ANAKIN SKYWALKER

Synopsis: You never thought, as a well-respected senator, you would be begging, practically on your knees, in front of the Senate for someone anyone to help your home world, a peaceful planet that was ruthlessly dragged into the war a year ago. You never asked the Senate for anything, did what they wanted, provided what they asked, and obliged by their rules. You were loyal to democracy, something you had learned to believe in during your time with the Republic, but today was the day that same democracy failed you.

Warnings: gender-neutral reader, darker anakin, like he won't let you leave him, possessiveness, angst, like big angst, no fluff today, the reader being ignorant to darker anakin, pure sadness, (maybe part 2, i don't know how yall will feel about this one), (feeling like the at&t commercial, "just okay is not okay" with this oneshot) W/C: 2561

Notes: um, this didn't turn out how i thought it would, like at all. i can't tell if that's a good thing or not

star wars masterlist

"We need resources! My people are suffering! Our food, supplies, and ammunition are cut off by the Separatists who have invaded my home! I was dragged into the awful war because you promised us protection and resources, all things we desperately need right now. Sickness is spreading among the injured. We are staving! We have no way to protect ourselves from the Separatist's tyrannical rule! So I urge you, members of the Senate, please help us!"

Your pleas and frantic cries for help fell upon deaf ears. You were denied everything you had begged tirelessly for, your sanity crumbling with the rejection. The Senate would not help you where it didn't benefit them, and now you had to consider the option of submitting to them and leaving the Republic to keep your people from certain death.

Anakin and Obi-Wan watched from the balcony, his former master stroking his beard as you slumped defeatedly in your seat, your chair moving back to connect with the others. Obi-Wan remained silent, deep in thought about the events that had taken place. He opened his mouth before closing it, shaking his head with a huff. He took one last glance before heading off in another direction, presumably to the council or maybe to you, to ask about your planet and find a way to help without defying the Jedi he so keenly looked up to. Considering his unwavering sympathy, that sounded like something he would do, negotiate.

Anakin continued to lean against the wall, his foreign metal hand clenching and unclenching as your advisors whispered something into your ear. It was times like these that shaken his faith in the Senate. Your homeworld was notorious for being peaceful with a few highly skilled warriors if violence was needed in a case like this. However, as you stated before, they were killed in Grievous's surprise attack, no doubt orchestrated by Count Dooku. It all made him sick to his stomach, and he could see from your expression that you were experiencing similar feelings. Why wouldn't you? You're subjected to bear witness to the death of your people, with no idea what the Separatists have in store for you, your people, and your resources.

Anakin's train of thought was interrupted by your face twisting into one of grim determination, stalking out of the room and into the hall behind you. What could you possibly be doing? If the Senate wasn't inclined to help you, were you returning to your home despite the dangers? If you are, then why? There was nothing left except enslaved citizens and tons of metal plaguing your streets. But even then, the Separatists will be waiting for you...unless that's what you want?

Shit.

Everything connected at once, and his legs sprinted down the hall to find you. He needed to stop you and fast before you sided with the Separatists.

—

You stormed out of the room, your bodyguards following close behind. You had made your choice. Your people's needs were above your own, and in that respect, you would bow to the Separatists invading your home world and leave the Republic. You didn't let your mind wander, afraid it would take you down a pit of guilt you could never escape from. However, the weight of the decision plagued your mind as you followed down the intricate corridor, wealth gushing around you while people from worlds not too far away were being killed, struggling to provide food for their families while combating illness and disease. It was truly distasteful, all the wealth the Republic possessed, yet they couldn't find it within themselves to provide relief aid because you didn't contribute to their desire for war.

"Y/N," you heard a familiar voice calling you, and you didn't allow yourself to turn around and face the man you had been trying to avoid. A warm hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you from your thoughts.

"What?" you hissed. Your guards beside you whipped out their spears, jabbing them outwards with a dignified woosh, so they were less than a millimeter from Anakin's throat. He halted, looking at each spear before his eyes descended upon yours. You held your hand up, and they placed their weapons back in their holsters, waiting for your command. Anakin took the chance and surged forward, placing his arms on either side of your shoulder to stop you from leaving.

"Please think about this," he urged desperately. His heart was beating outside his chest, panic pulsing through him as he felt genuine fear tickle down his spine. This was not how it was supposed to go; you weren't supposed to leave him.

"There's nothing to think about, general," you spat, "the Republic failed me, and now my planet is doomed. I will do anything to ensure the safety of my people, even if it betrays my ideals."

Anakin's face softened into a sympathetic one. Could this really be the only choice? If you were to abandon the Republic, he would be forbidden from ever seeing you again. Not that it ever stopped him before, but this instance was by leaps and bounds different from the rest. If you were to join the Separatists, entering the heart of that territory alone would no doubt get him killed or captured. But he wouldn't let you slip from his hands so smoothly. He would find a way. He always did. Even as his mind cracked under the reality of the situation. You two had been involved for a couple of years now, meeting together whenever you could while chatting every other night through your holo comm. However, since the war started, he had been busier than ever, and his free time seemed to be filled with nothing but war strategies. At that time, your nation had descended into issues of its own. Because of this, Anakin was sent three days ago to investigate the allegations of Separatists occupying the planet.

When he arrived, the world was not a sight he expected to see. The once rich fields full of fresh crops were barren, the plants rotting away. The previously rich life that thrived around him was no more, leaving nothing behind but wreckage, misery, and carnage. The people themselves were either inside their once lavish homes, cradling their malnourished children while they looked as if on the brink of death. Even more people, with clothes full of muck and sweat, roamed the streets, eyes sunken in, mouth permanently engraved into a frown, staring off into the far-out land of a better place, their minds slowly rotting away with their bodies. The once bustling planet was now home to decay and famine.

He was shocked, to say the least, at your planet's state, and he immediately understood why when he saw what was roaming the streets; droids. But this wasn't about them. No matter how much he wanted to pull out his lightsaber and slice apart these mindless droids piece by piece to get a lick of the suffering these people had endured and exact revenge for your home. The forbidden lust of revenge, flitting at his consciousness, was tamed by a deep breath. He managed to sneak into the palace and extract you and a handful of guards while you explained the situation to him. You had decided to appeal to the Senate for relief aid, ignoring Count Dooku's empty promises he kept transmitting.

That's how he ended up in a very public hall, holding you by your shoulders. He didn't miss the outrage and powerlessness simmering behind your eyes. It burned him to receive such a glare from his beloved. You were his everything, the light in his life, his angel, so why would you glare at him with such hate?

You obviously weren't thinking this through because if you followed your thoughts to conclusion, you would see how making a deal with Dooku would badly affect you. He would undoubtedly take over your planet, and while he may provide relief, your system would be shadowed by the constant presence of Separatists. There was also the matter of what would happen to the citizens if Dooku took hold of the planet. So many possibilities rushed through Anakin's mind that it made him dizzy.

A couple of senators rounded the corner, and Anakin's arms left you instantly. The senators shot you and Anakin a questioning look before continuing their conversation, conveniently about what transpired in the Senate not even five minutes ago.

"Anakin, I need to go back to my people." You took a step forward, but his arm wrapped across your torso to your waist. You questioningly turned your gaze to Anakin at the arm across your chest, but his head dipped, his signature darkening. You couldn't leave him. He needed you. Without you, he would surely break. He couldn't handle it if his angel left him because he would be left without a purpose, without the light you filled him with to combat the darkness in his heart. He would rather be dead.

But there was no need to imagine such a grim faith because you won't abandon him. You won't leave him, you won't leave him, you won't leave him, you won't leave him, you won't leave him-

"Then let me escort you there, my love." He felt his carefully crafted mask crack, exposing the first slivers of distress. He needed to pull himself together.

"No, Ani, this is something I need to do myself."

"Then please, come to my apartment and talk to me one last time before you leave me." Anakin truly didn't mean for his words to turn into careful manipulation, but his emotions twisted the meaning of it. With his eyes fixed on his feet, he missed your expression, your mouth parting in a silent O. Leaving the Republic meant leaving Anakin permanently. You silently cursed yourself. Why didn't you think of this before? That's why he acted boldly; he didn't want you to leave. Of course, the force would find a way to make your decision even more difficult.

"I can't," you cried, tears pricking your eyes. You tried to blink back tears that swarmed your eyes as a single tear slipped silently down your cheek. "I'm sorry."

Anakin's heart fell into his stomach, shattering. He worried that the war would either take you from him or tear you two apart, but it seemed to have done both. He was now swallowing a wad of spit, his eyes searching your face for any sign of deception. He found none. You truly wanted to leave him.

"Please don't do this to me, darling," Anakin pleaded, wiping a stray tear from your red-rimmed eyes.

"This is something bigger than you or me, Anakin. Millions of lives are at stake." you choke on the sob clawing at your throat. By now, the guards have left you alone, the passageway all but deserted. It is a cruel choice fate has placed on you. You want to collapse into Anakin's chest, let his hands run across your face while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. But none of that is an option; the longer you stay, the more reluctant you are to leave.

"I have to go." Your words held an air of finality to them, wrenching Anakin's expression further into agony. He loved you with every part of his soul. He's devoted his angel like one is to their religion. It feels impossible to let you slip through his fingers, his only source of happiness in this pointless war. He needed you like the planets needed the sun. He couldn't live a day without you. That need seeps into his brain, burrowing deep within his thoughts to poison them with sin. Tears begin to fall from his eyes, and a part of him wonders if he's ever cried so earnestly before someone.

"I'll find you when the war is over. I'll find you, angel. I promise I'll find you." Both Anakin's flesh and metal hand worked their way to your face, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered close, determined to remember the feeling of his cherry lips.

"I promise," he murmured against your skin. Upon the kiss Anakin pressed to your flushed skin, his emotions bubbled to the surface, defying what was supposed to be a simple kiss into one riddled with rage, grief, and possessiveness. He felt the ripple of those emotions against his mind, tainting it with the idea of power. Yet, as he drowned in the depth of those feelings, he failed to notice those emotions take root in his mind. If only he had the power to stop it, the power to keep you at his side, the power to change the Senate's mind, the power to drive Grievous's forces from your world-

All he needed was power.

Nothing else mattered besides you, and as long as you were by his side, he was whole again. It was selfish. He knew that all too well to think about abandoning the code he was raised upon and the Jedi who raised him. He had been told many times many different ways which path thoughts such as these would lead him down, but the Jedi had lied to him, distrusted him, and made too many decisions that left a trail of the dead in their wake.

Passion is power.

All you need is power.

Give in to temptation.

You remained ignorant to Anakin's inner struggle as he pulled his lips away. You still felt his phantom touch on your skin, only sending you into a deeper spiral. Finally, you nodded, affirming his words, and Anakin's irises riddled with despair met yours.

"Goodbye, Anakin. See you soon." You turned back, following the hallway until you were out of sight. You pressed a hand over your mouth to muffle the sobs tearing from your vocal cords. You screamed into your hand, collapsing against the wall. Was this the price of freedom? Was this really the only choice? It felt like molten lava was spilling from your tear ducts, streaking down your face and staining it with your sorrow. What the hell did you just do?

Anakin's hands balled into fists. He would see you soon, even if it's the last thing he did.

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big-brainrot-hours · 3 years

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I couldn’t get this out of my mind

Morax definitely felt some sort of a power trip when he got Xiao on his side during that time in the archon war. Thinking that now that he save his God most favor he’ll be recognize for his good deed and may even grant him a Mark similar to Xiao or something along those lines

Or maybe Morax think that with Xiao their god will be more incline to stay in Liyue because their favorite is in Liyue

YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT AND YOU SHOULD SAY IT LOUDER!!!!

Anyway, I haven’t played the story quests so the characterization of Morax might be a bit off?? Let me know what yall think lol

Headcanons and ficlet under the cut

— — — — — — —

He absolutely got a power trip when Xiao was on his side during the war. Not only did he have the creator’s favorite on his side, but he was powerful, and that was while he was starved and injured, his skin littered with unhealed wounds and in agonizing pain. Imagine how powerful he would be when he was in full health.

And being recognized for his "good deed" is definitely a large part of his motivation for helping Xiao. To be honest, it’s the only reason. Mr. God of War was not a nice person, and he was not about to just help someone just for the sake of helping them. Especially not when this person had nearly beat him. But, if the creator was watching over Xiao, then maybe if he helped him, he would be seen too?

And that last bit about keeping Xiao around so that the creator is more likely to stay in Liyue is absolutely true too. He does realize that Xiao doesn’t care about Liyue, and he knows that he’d leave immediately if the creator asked him to, but he keeps him around anyway. He’s hoping that if Xiao stays in Liyue long enough, the creator will see and get attached to the nation and want to stay.

— — — — — — —

Morax was ready to end the life of the disgusting beast he had just struck down. It had put up a good fight, he’d give it that, but it was one fight too long. This tiny creature, injured and covered in festering and infected wounds, covered in countless scars layered on top of each other, this pathetic slave of Osial’s. How did it manage to hold him off for so long? How did it manage to hurt him so badly that he had to stop to heal and catch his breath?

He watches it, laying on the ground, staring blankly up at the sky, when suddenly, it starts to scream. He raises his spear, ready to finally end it, when he notices the light wrapping around it. It was dim, barely noticeable, but he saw it. And even from where he was standing, he could feel the warmth radiating from it. His breath catches in his lungs as he realizes what he’s seeing.

The creator, his god... They’re keeping that thing alive. Panic grips his heart as his thoughts start to race. No one had seen or even sensed the creator in Teyvat in centuries, so how was this thing graced with their light? What is this creature, exactly? All he can see is a mess of feathers and skin, too covered in blood and gore for him to really notice anything else. It lays there, screaming and sobbing, and he just can’t see why this pest is being protected by the creator themself. And that’s when he notices. The torn markings under its scars, the faint glowing under its skin, the way its sobs and screams are filled with pleas for forgiveness.

He had heard the rumors before. That the creator had a favorite. That there was one being who carried the god's light, one who could still sense their will and godly aura despite having left Teyvat many years ago. Never would he have thought the rumors were true.

But… The rumors also said that the god’s favorite was a being of beauty and grace. One that was kind and outgoing, one who glowed under the stars and was covered in marks of the creator, had a soft voice and a gentle demeanor, and was quick to offer help to anyone they came across with a laugh and a soft smile.

So what in the world happened to make them into this… thing? This tortured, broken creature, screaming at the stars and sobbing out broken prayers and cries for forgiveness?

And that’s when it struck him.

This was his chance.

He found it hard to believe, but if this creature really was the creator’s favorite, then this was his way to show his devotion. His way of showing the creator the extent of his worship. He’ll save this pathetic creature, and although he won’t be able to restore it to its former glory, it will live. The creator’s favorite creation will live to see another day, and it’s thanks to him. Surely the creator will notice him after this? They’ll see just how much he loves them and that he’s willing to put energy into healing something so broken. And maybe… maybe he’ll be blessed with the creator’s light too? Maybe he’ll be granted divine markings as well. Maybe he’ll be the new favorite…

#sagau #genshin cult au #genshin sagau #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #zhongli #ask #anon

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221bshrlocked · 4 years

Text

sweaty hands, reluctant hearts

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Fem!Reader

Words: 13685 (god this wasn’t supposed to be this long I’m actually sorry this time)

Warnings: Angst and Smut (my fav). Hurt/Jealous Mando -> Touch Starved/Rough Mando -> Fluffy Mando -> Shy Mando. Penetrative Sex. Oral Sex. There’s lot’s of sweat because exertion yall. Breeding Kink 😏. Slight Exhibitionism. Overstimulation and slight slight non-con because of oversensitivity. Umm, squirting 🙃. Dirty/Sweet talk. Spanking (ass and hoohaa).

Summary: He never thought the day would come when he’d hear you saying you wanted to leave him. Yes there was an understanding between the two of you that you were hired to help him care for the Child and to somehow keep the Razor Crest alive and working. And he knew it made sense for you to find work elsewhere now that the Razor Crest was destroyed and the Child was with his own kind. But he just assumed you weren’t going to leave considering it’s been a couple of months since he’d given the kid to the Jedi and you never brought it up. It hurt hearing you say those words, especially when he realized he wasn’t meant to hear them and that you were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people. Turns out, all Mando needed was to see the Marshal eye-fucking you as you fixed the new ship and overshared your thoughts for him to snap and finally make a move. Hopefully he can change your mind...

A/N: Yall, this is post Season 2 so sadly Grogu is not here, hence the angst! Umm, this was a lot to handle because you know, that gif here. Enjoy ☺️

It’s been months since the events that transpired on the cruiser. Months since he’d given away a piece of himself to an unknown being. Months since he’d sat down and re-evaluated his life’s mission. He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen to return to Tatooine of all planets but he needed some time to think of his next steps. So much has changed over the course of the past year and it took the Mandalorian longer than usual to realize that he can’t use bounty hunting to fill the void in his heart.

One thing he did know for sure, however, was that he couldn’t have managed to survive the emotional and physical changes without your presence. Somehow, you’ve managed to make his life easier and by a whole lot. He has never felt this grateful for having a companion, maker, didn’t even think it possible to ever consider another as such. He’d spent years and years living by the Creed and never once doubting his way of living, but he found himself questioning everything about himself when you came in. It wasn’t that he was suddenly open to the idea of taking his helmet off or anything, it was more of a passing thought on what it would be like if he were to open up to you more, perhaps even share with you more than his name and an abridged version of how he became a Mandalorian.

He mulled over how he would approach the topic with you, finding himself growing more nervous when he considered how you’d react. You’ve never given him any inclination of ever thinking of him as more than your boss and he knew he needed to figure out a way to make this seem natural and not forced. Frankly, he found it interesting how you managed to read him better than anyone he’s ever met, and he wished he could ask you how you’d done so when he never took off his helmet.

Mando pushed the thought aside for now, cursing to himself as he dragged the giant piece of scrap you’d requested for him to pick up from Peli. He wanted to argue with you then, tell you that the only reason for coming to this awfully hot planet was to take some time off, if that was even possible, and avoid falling into the temptation of another mission. But he couldn’t find it in himself to say any of these things, mostly because you were the one that managed to procure the new ship for him and you were also the one that told him the two of you were in serious need of rest. He’d only realized the ship needed fixing when he landed and you told him you would get right on as soon as he picked up the necessary pieces from Peli. He felt a little out of the loop when he’d gone to her and found her giving him everything you’d requested for, and he knew you must have contacted her before you landed or else she wouldn’t have been this quick.

As he made his way through the quiet “streets” of Mos Pelgo, he thought back to what Peli said to him an hour ago. Had he not considered her as a friend, he would have responded rudely when she bugged him about you. As much as he wished to humor the idea that you looked at him as more than a colleague, partner, whatever it was the two of you were, he didn’t want to grow any more false hope, especially now that he’d already given up the one thing that managed to crawl into his heart.

Mando saw that you’d moved the ship behind the cantina and he chose to blame the heat for the way his skin crawled with goosebumps because no, he didn’t suddenly feel calm at the thought of you.

He shook his head from the intruding thought and was about to say something to you when he saw who was standing nearby. If there was ever a time where he didn’t wish to see Cobb Vanth, it was definitely now. The bounty hunter put down the scraps of metal before moving closer to where the two of you were standing. He was sheltered behind a shack of sorts and allowed his heart rate to return to normal before listening in on you.

“I don’t believe you sweetheart.” The Marshal threw back his drink and shook his head when you shrugged your shoulders at him and Mando felt his stomach twist at the endearment. Since when were the two of you on such a close basis?

“Believe whatever you want Marshal, I was only answering your question. Besides, it’s not like I’m actively looking right now.” Mando watched as you swiped the sweat rolling down your face with the back of your hand and swore when he felt the fabric of his pants grow tighter around his crotch. He felt dirty watching your every move, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the way your muscles gleamed under the excruciating sun rays. He cursed the day you bought that garment and he recalled back to the first time he watched you work in it. Mando had almost tripped over the child that day because he never expected to see you walking around with the chest binding so visible to his eyes. It was worse when you reached up high for something because if his eyes lingered long enough, he could see your undergarment peeking from the low-hanging pants of the overalls.

The bounty hunter had to take a few deep breaths to move on from the inappropriate thoughts he was having and he narrowed his eyes at Cobb when he saw him walk closer to you.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” The Mandalorian watched as your expression shifted slowly to a more sombre look and he was familiar enough with you to know that you weren’t too happy with that question or the answer you were going to give Cobb.

“I- I don’t know. I wish I could tell him about how I fe- what I’m thinking about but I can’t...and I also can’t just say ‘Hey Mando, I had a blast taking care of the kid and getting hunted by the kriffing Empire. I fixed the ship for you so see you later.’ It’s not right and I didn’t realize it would be this difficult to come to terms with what I have to do. But I can’t keep doing this, it’s not fair.”

Whatever the Mandalorian thought you were going to say, that certainly didn’t make the top of the list. He almost fell back when he registered the meaning behind your words. You wanted to leave. You’ve been wanting to move on for a while and you weren’t sure how to tell him. You were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people and relying on his opinion to decide what you were going to do. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind and he tried to see if he’d done anything wrong. Besides the whole thing with Gideon and Bo Katana, there wasn’t really anything he’d done that would inspire such a reaction from you. Not that those weren’t enough to change your mind about staying with him but it was all in the past now.

The sound of laughter broke Mando out of his haze and he turned towards you again, watching as you slithered down the ship, clenching his fists tightly when he saw Cobb grab your hips to help you down. He was torn between strutting towards the two of you and punching the daylights out of him and remaining where he was to listen in on your conversation. He had no right to do either, but he needed to know.

“I hate to ask you this question because it defeats the whole purpose of this entire chat but...have you thought of how he’d take it? Should you decide on-” You pointed to something on the floor and Cobb leaned down to grab it for you, handing it and gauging your reaction to his question as you continued to work.

“Why else do you think I’ve been putting this off? Of course I’ve thought of how he’d react. But I deserve more than...ugh, I don’t mind this, I swear I don’t, but I also can’t just sit back and pretend I don’t want more.” You motioned violently to the ship and to what you were doing as you spoke, shaking your head at the man smiling smugly in front of you before throwing out the tools and snatching his drink from him.

Mando couldn’t stand to be near you, not after what he’d heard and certainly not after taking in your body language and the way Cobb was practically undressing you without shame. He stepped back, leaving the scraps where they were and heading to the cantina to take his mind off of what he’d just witnessed. He walked in and paid no mind to the patrons scattered across the room, handing the man behind the counter more credits than he cared to count and asking him for his strongest stuff. He didn’t bother to address the judgmental stare he was receiving and took hold of the bottle before walking out again.

It was close to sunset and the Mandalorian walked until the edge of the town before deciding to continue until he reached a small hill filled with large boulders. Sliding down one of the rocks, he sighed deeply before taking off his helmet, the hissing sound instilling a sense of guilt deep in his chest. He was ashamed at feeling such an emotion towards what he based his entire life on. But he couldn’t take it anymore. His anger rose as he opened the large bottle in his hand, throwing it back until he felt the stinging drink burn his throat for a few seconds before aggressively setting it on the floor next to him.

Mando wasn’t able to put what he was feeling into a proper string of thoughts but he did know it was an odd mixture of hurt and anger with a tiny bit of sexual frustration. He couldn’t get the image of you sweaty and heaving as you worked on his ship out of his mind, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back to meditate back on the way your muscles clenched and pulled every time you molded two metal scraps together or how they positively shined when you carried things across the sand. He’d tried his hardest to set all of these feelings and rather inappropriate thoughts aside but he couldn’t any longer. Not when there was a chance of you leaving him, and perhaps to someone like the Marshal too.

Perhaps it was unwise to deny his heart’s desires for so long and Mando was sure that he’d met his breaking point because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Normally, he was able to distract himself and force his mind to stray away from conjuring up the filthiest images of you wreathing and crying beneath him as he drove his cock into your heat. But he had no hold over his mind at this moment, not that he was to blame. He went from shutting his own self out to opening the floodgates, and there was no going back.

He sighed heavily when his thoughts shifted to what you said about him and he took a long sip from the bottle before turning his attention to the setting suns. He didn’t know what he could even say if you ever approached the topic with him. You’d been wanting to leave for a while now and somehow managed to hide it from him. All those nights spent running from Moff Gideon and other bounty hunters and you haven’t complained once, choosing to keep it to yourself. He wasn’t sure if he was hurt because you felt the need to hide something like this from him or because you were awfully understanding of how these complaints could distract him.

And then there was the whole thing with the ship. He had assumed that the two of you sort of shared it now but it seemed that you never saw it as belonging to you but only to him. And you went out of your way to fix it now when you didn’t have to. Mando didn’t notice his tears until he licked his drying lips and tasted the saltiness across his mouth. He wiped his cheeks and laughed at himself. When had he become like this? First it was the child and now you.

He wished he could take it all back, to have never met the kid or you. His life was simple and not complicated and now, now he was faced with the prospect of losing you as well. The bounty hunter dismissed the thought as quickly as it came because he knew deep down that it was better to have had the two of you in his life, even for a short while, than to have never known you. It wasn’t ideal but since when was his life ideal?

As the suns set beneath the sky, the Mandalorian looked down and saw that the bottle was still almost full. Not wanting to finish it now, because he might actually need it later when you decide to leave, Mando stood up and slowly made his way back into town. He needed to sleep, not to rest but to put a pause on his rather depressing thoughts if only for a little bit. When he saw the town come into view, he took a deep breath and put his helmet back on.

The town was quieter than usual and the Mandalorian found himself going straight to the ship instead of joining the others. He’d spent the past few days enjoying his nights in the corner of the busy cantina, watching as you won one Sabacc game after another without breaking a sweat while everyone groaned in annoyance at how well you were kicking their asses. But he couldn’t trust himself tonight, not around you and certainly not around the Marshal.

Trying not to bring too much attention to himself, Mando walked past the cantina towards the ship, already thinking of how relieved he’d be once he used the refresher. Going up the ramp, he was about to walk to the small, private room near the cockpit to grab a change of clothes when he heard a loud shriek that sounded a lot like his name coming from the opposite end of the ship. Mando quickly turned around and shut his eyes in exasperation when he saw you approaching him far angrier than he’d ever seen you. He set the bottle down and turned his attention towards you, raising an eyebrow to himself when he saw your chest heaving beneath the chest band. He averted his eyes quickly, refusing to think of you sweaty and breathless under other circumstances. Maker, he couldn’t go no like this.

“Where in the kriffing hell have you been? You were supposed to bring the parts from Peli hours ago and I have to find out from some kid that you just left them on the ground and walked away to- hell, I don’t even know what was more important for you than bringing me the scraps so I could fix the ship? Really, Mando, I understand that it’s been a little weird and difficult lately but I barely ask for anything and, ugh, maker.” You held back from voicing more of your thoughts, afraid that you’ve already gone far with asking him where he was. He didn’t really need to tell you what his business was but you’d assumed the two of you have come to an understanding regarding such matters, at the very least to ensure everyone’s safety.

Mando stood there in silence and took a deep breath before turning around and walking into his room, afraid he’d give himself away if he tried to respond to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration when he quietly walked away from you, anger rising in your chest as he came out and made his way past you to the refresher. Before you could think twice of what you were doing, you were sprinting past him and standing in front of the open door, pushing your fingers into his beskar-clad chest as you hissed at him.

“I’m not sure what happened or why you’re giving me the silent treatment right now but this is not how we deal with our problems okay.” Mando took a few steps back as you continued to shove your finger into him, trying his hardest to not grab your wrist and push you against the nearest wall. “We talk things out and we come up with a way to fix things and compromise if need be.” Mando’s back hit the wall, and he threw his head back to avoid your gaze, unable to hold back the chuckle that rose from beneath the helmet at your words.

How ironic.

“Did I say something funny?” You narrowed your eyes up at him and wished for once that he’d remove that god damn helmet so you could gauge his reaction.

“You mean we should talk things out like you and Cobb Vanth today? Or would it be different?” Mando’s chest tightened when he noticed the surprised expression on your face, knowing very well this was not what you expected to hear from him. He was a rational man, never once letting his mind give away to such simplistic thoughts but you’d struck a nerve and he could no longer hide his jealousy. Yes, it was jealousy. As much as he hated to admit it, that’s what he was feeling right now, what he’s been feeling all day long. It was childish and unlike him but it wasn’t going to do him any good if he continued to ignore it.

“I’m dying to know if that’s what you mean. You obviously don’t have an issue telling him about how difficult it’s been working with me and how you can’t keep doing this.” It was your turn to take a few steps back when you saw his shoulders push out and make him taller than he already was. He continued to walk towards you, throwing his clothes to the ground and almost apologizing when you tripped on your feet when he was only a foot away from you.

“How about this, let’s start with what you apparently wish you could tell me but can’t seem to find the right words to do so. What was it you said to him? You deserve more than taking care of a kid and constantly escaping the Empire and other bounty hunters? Or wait, how can I forget...it’s not fair dealing with this mess of a ship and you’re looking for somewhere else to go?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as the Mandalorian repeated back the words you voiced perhaps a little too loudly earlier today, already feeling your eyes fill with unshed tears at harsh his tone.

“I- I didn’t…you weren’t meant to-” You tripped over your words and almost flinched when he cut you off.

“What? I wasn’t supposed to hear you say any of those things? A little strange don’t you think, since you seemed to have a lot to say about me to the Marshal.” Mando should have stopped himself from saying the next few words but his heart was torn into a million pieces and it wasn’t fair for him either.

“Well guess what, sweetheart, the Razor Crest blew up. Moff Gideon is taken care of and the Empire isn’t after us anymore. Every bounty hunter knows better than to so much as look at me and...and the kid isn’t around anymore for you to take care of. He’s gone, I lost him. So if you were worried about hurting me, you’re a little too late for that.” The Mandalorian barely held himself back from pulling you into his arms when he saw tears rolling down your cheek, clenching his fists tightly when he noticed the way you hugged yourself and frowned at him.

“Din-” It broke him to hear you use his name, especially now of all times. He hasn’t heard you say it once in the past few months, even when the two of you were alone. It was the twisting of the knife, and he bit his tongue to distract himself from saying something he couldn’t possibly take back.

“Do what you want, I won’t stand in the way. Besides, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to help you out with whatever it was you were telling him today. After all, you deserve more right? Deserve someone more than me...someone who’s willing to share a lot more than his name.” Not bothering to wait for a response, Mando stepped away and walked back to his room, not caring about the clothes on the ground or how hurt you must have been feeling from listening to him.

He softly shut the door behind him and moved to his bed, throwing himself on it and hanging his head low to catch his breath. This was not how he saw the night going, not remotely. He was hoping to ask you about this tomorrow in a less hostile manner and without making it seem like he was blaming you. But something about your words struck a nerve in him and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, not when you were suggesting things you yourself weren’t willing to follow.

Din wasn’t sure how long he sat there in silence but the hissing sound of the door opening brought him back from his haze and he opened his eyes when he heard you walking towards him. You’d never once come into his room, not even when he occasionally gave you permission. You sniffed twice before approaching the bed and standing right in front of him and he was reminded of when the child would cry to try to catch his attention.

“Din, it was never my intention to hurt you. I was trying to do the opposite..thought I was doing the right thing by thinking about this before I could talk to you but I’m realizing now that I’ve hurt you.” Din noticed the way you were ringing your fingers nervously and held himself back from taking your hands into his to try and put you at ease.

“I- I only spoke with Cobb because he- because he noticed the way I was looking at you. He noticed how I can never seem to focus on anything or anyone else when you’re around. He- he could tell I was having a hard time coming to terms with how I feel about you...how I’ve felt about you for a while now.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your confessions, unable to properly register what you were implying because he could never even humor the idea that you’d have feelings for him. He raised his head and finally looked at you, frowning when he saw how red your eyes were from crying.

“The last thing I want to do is to leave you, please believe me. But I wasn’t sure if you even wanted me around after...after everything with Moff Gideon and the Jedi. As far as I knew, you brought me on to take care of Grogu and fix the Razor Crest. We’ve barely spoken ever since the cruiser and I just thought that I was only around because you couldn’t find the time to tell me that you don’t need me anymore.” Hearing you say that you thought he didn’t need you caught Din off guard and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, instantly taking hold of your hands and pulling you towards him until you were standing in between his legs. You swallowed the lump in your throat and maintained your gaze on his visor, hoping that he could see how truthful you were being with him and maybe respond, if only with just a simple word.

“When I said I deserved more, I was just- I swear I wasn’t talking about your Creed or wanting to see you. As much as I wish that was possible, I would never...could never ask you for something like that. I was only telling him that I might need some time away to maybe forget how...maker, to perhaps try and set aside my emotions because the last thing you need right now is for me to lay that on you. I don’t want you to think that you owe me anything because you don’t, gods you don’t owe anyone anything, not after what you’ve been through. But I could feel myself becoming more attached to you, especially after everything that happened on the cruiser. I want more with you but I don’t want to push you towards anything you’re not ready for.” Before you could wipe the tears away from your cheeks, Din was raising his glove-covered fingers and softly skimming them over your skin, and he hadn’t realized how harsh and loud his breathing was until he felt you rest your hand on his chest.

“There’s nothing between me and Cobb. And you should know by now that he’s...friendly, with everyone.” You smiled shyly at him before leaning into the hand resting on your cheek, nuzzling further into his palm when he swiped his thumb against your lower lip. There was so much Din wanted to say but he couldn’t find the right words that would convey what he was feeling. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind about your admission and the fact that you have been returning his affection for a while now.

Din didn’t realize how long he was quiet until you cleared your throat and let go of his hand, stepping away from him and looking around to see if you should just leave. Before you could head to the door, however, Din was standing up and moving towards you, his eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort before he made his next move. Your chest was rising and falling a little quicker than he liked but he quickly realized it was probably because of how you were coming to terms with what you just said to him.

You watched as he took his gloves off and set them on the small table behind you, suppressing a gasp when you felt his warm, calloused hands wrap around yours before bringing them to his helmet. He could tell you were letting him control all of your movements and found it difficult to accept just how much you were willing to give to him.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I have been thinking about this for a while.” Din smiled when he saw your eyebrows furrow in question at his words. “Taking this off.” He saw the moment you understood what he was saying, not expecting you to pull your hands away from him and taking a few steps back until your back was against the wall.

“That’s...that’s not what I- Din, I wasn’t lying when I said it wouldn’t matter to me if-” He smiled at how defensive you suddenly were and stepped towards you once more, and you found it annoying that he barely kept a foot between you two, his natural scent hitting you like a blaster to the gut.

“I know.” Din cut you off before taking your hands into his once more, rubbing your knuckles to put you at ease as he continued. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this and- it’s not that I’ll walk around without it now, far from it. It’ll only be when we’re alone, when no one is around.” He hoped you could read in between the lines because this would be the closest he’d come to admitting how important you were to him, for now at least.

“Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

That definitely snapped you out of your haze and you tilted your head to the side before asking home what he was referring to.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Din raised an eyebrow at your response. Have you already forgotten?

“On the cruiser, when I- before Grogu went with the Jedi.” His hands tightened around your fingers as he said the child’s name and you were momentarily distracted before realizing what he meant.

“Din I...I never saw you.”

For a split second, it felt like someone had taken Din and carbon froze him before throwing him on an ice planet.

“What?” He held his breath, unable to move a muscle until he made sure he heard you correctly.

“I never saw you. I turned around when you reached for your helmet. I didn’t...it was a moment with you and Grogu. It didn’t feel right to look at you.” You tried to maintain a semblance of control on your voice but it cracked a few times as you admitted to him. As much as you yearned to see him without the mask, you didn’t think it proper without his clear consent.

Din’s sudden intake of breath made you nervous and you hated how for a moment, you wished you didn’t tell him because there was now a high probability that he wouldn’t take the mask off.

“Cyar'ika, please.” you shivered at the low tone of his voice, finding it harder to focus on anything but the touch of his skin. Once again, Din slowly brought your hands to the sides of his visor, pushing the palm of your hands on the beskar and softly nodding at you. A sudden sense of relief washed over him when he saw the slight nod of your head.

Din found it endearing how your whole face scrunched up in focus as the two of you slowly pulled the helmet off of his head, the soft hissing sound as it unlocked making your hands dampen with sweat. As you raised the visor along with him, you couldn’t help but shut your eyes as soon as you saw the skin of his chin. Unbeknownst to you, Din was watching your every reaction and felt a little nudge in his chest when he saw how tightly shut your eyes were. When the beskar was off completely, Din took it from your hands and placed it next to him, swallowing the lump in his throat when he turned back and saw you were still refusing to look at him.

He reluctantly took your hands into his and placed them on his chest, hoping that you’d finally open your eyes without him begging you again.

“I’m sorry I- maker, this is..this is probably more intense for you than it is for me and I’m not making it any better with my nervousness and- okay. Okay.” You took a deep breath before allowing your eyes to flutter open, unable to exhale as soon as you laid your gaze on him. Din was probably unaware of how nervous he looked and it took you a few longer seconds to realize you needed to breathe again. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, the long nights where you imagined what he could look like fading into thin air because nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared you for what you were currency seeing.

His features were somehow soft but a little rugged, and you found yourself committing every inch of his skin to memory, filling your mind’s eye with every minute facial expression so you could dream of him when you fall asleep. It was oddly not surprising at all that he had a stubble, the scattered dark and slightly graying hairs across his jaw and above his lips making him seem older than he probably was. And you weren’t sure if he knew he was furrowing his eyebrows and then you realized he most likely didn’t because he was so used to wearing his helmet that he never had to learn how to control his facial expressions around anyone. And it was endearing how his nose flared as he continued to breathe heavily under your gaze, and if it weren’t for the fact that this was a serious moment, you would have leaned over and kissed the curved bridge of his nose and the scrunch of his eyebrows to put him at ease.

Din wasn’t sure what he thought your reaction would be and he felt his chest tighten with every long moment you spent without so much as a comment.

You were unaware of how long this dreadful moment must have been for the Mandalorian and you continued to study him in hopes of finding answers to questions you’ve wished you could ask him ever since he hired you. There were heavy bags under his eyes and you wished you were more persistent with him when it came to his resting schedule but he always seemed to wave you off whenever you told him he needed to sleep. Though you knew this stress had to do more with Grogu no longer being here and less with how often he slept. You had half expected to find his gaze harsh and far off but when you did finally meet his eyes, you found them filled with unshed tears and a multitude of emotions that you knew would go unexplained until he had the strength to voice them. They were a deep and beautiful shade of brown, ones you knew you’d never be able to turn away from now that you’ve had a proper look at him. And you couldn’t help but notice how their color reminded you of a Nightbloomer just after you picked it from its roots.

All of that, however, could not compare to when you finally let your eyes descend to his lips. They were a darker shade of pink, and you swore you saw them parting as soon as you looked at them. His lower lip was trembling and you wished more than anything to swipe your thumb against it if only to feel the soft skin melt at your touch. You wished that was as far as your mind had gone but the longer you looked at the curve of his mouth, the more you wished you could lean forward and mold your lips with his. It was even worse because you had a feeling that the stubble of his mustache would cause the softest of burns on your lips.

Din could no longer take the loud silence enveloping the room and he swallowed nervously when he saw how focused you seemed to be on his lips. He had some idea of what you were probably thinking because he was thinking the exact same thing but he wasn’t sure if he should be the one to make the first move. This reluctance evaporated when he noticed the way your eyes instantly moved to his neck as the cartilage moved and returned to rest when he gulped, and he realized that you may have been having slightly more inappropriate thoughts than he originally thought.

He was about to voice his worries when he saw your hands move from his beskar-clad chest to his face and he couldn’t stop himself from looking down apprehensively at the digits moving closer to his skin. You misunderstood his nervousness for uncomfort and immediately ceased all movements, returning your focus on his eyes to look for any inclination as to what he wanted.

“Can I- mhmm, may I touch you?” Your whispered question was too loud for the two of you and Din parted his lips to say something but noticed how dry his throat was and realized he couldn’t trust his own voice. Nodding slightly at your request, he waited with bated breath as your fingers rose to his face and found himself shaking with anticipation at the prospect of finally feeling your touch on the most intimate part of him.

When you were only a few inches away from him, Din felt his heart thumping wildly at his chest and he immediately shut his eyes when he felt the feather-light touch of your fingers on his cheeks. The harsh yet shaky intake of breath almost made you lose control and you had to remind yourself that, besides Grogu, you were the only one to ever touch him so intimately and so softly since he was a child. As much as you wished to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer so you could lay as many kisses on his face as you could, you knew it would be too much for him and that he needed you to go slow with him. He was practically shattering under your attention and you hoped he would allow you to do this as many times as possible in the coming days.

Din couldn’t put a name to what he was experiencing at the moment but he knew he didn’t want you to stop touching him, ever again. He decided that he’d spend every moment with you alone without his helmet and with yours hands skimming some part of him. The longer you kept your palms on his cheeks, the calmer his heart beat and it wasn’t until a few moments later that he realized his eyes were shut. As they slowly fluttered open, he was met with the most beautiful sight in the world: your own deep irises staring at your own thumb as it softly passed over his quivering lips.

“You’re...beautiful.”

It was a simple truth and you wished there was a more sincere word you could use to describe what he was to you, what he meant to you but your mind was overflowing with images of waking up next to him every day and kissing his eyes and cheeks and nose and lips and anywhere else you could reach.

Din’s hold tightened around your waist and you watched as he leaned forward until there was barely an inch between the two of you.

“Mesh'la, I would really like to kiss you.” The request barely passed his lips yet you were already standing up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his, finding them as soft and gentle as you imagined them to be. Din was afraid his heart would give out any moment now because nothing could have prepared him for the taste of you, let alone the boldness with which you were claiming him. He sighed into you, unintentionally parting his lips and pushing you harder into the wall when he felt your tongue sneak into his mouth and explore him. Din wasn’t sure what he should be doing but then you were moving your hands to the nape of his neck and tangling your fingers into his hair and he all but lost it. As you gently tugged on his hair, Din found himself mirroring your actions and before he knew it, the kiss was no longer innocent and sweet but hungry and needy. You sucked on his tongue and tilted your head to the side, wanting to commit every small detail to memory so when you shut your eyes at night, you’d kiss him in your dreams.

Reluctantly, you pulled back for a second to allow the two of you to breathe but Din didn’t like that, chasing your mouth and molding his lips with yours once more to be certain that yes, this was happening, and that no, this was not a dream. You moaned into the kiss, finding his desperate need to claim your mouth again more of a turn on than you cared to admit. And then his hands were slipping inside your overalls and holding you against his chest, the warmth of him stretching down to where you wished you could feel him.

This sudden intrusive thought and the harsh grasp of your hips snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should be slowing things down for his sake. Against your will, you gently pushed his chest away and tried to think of anything but the way he was heaving above you from the intensity of the kiss. When you looked at him and saw panic and hesitation etched on his face, you returned your hands to his cheeks again and lowered his head until it was resting against your own.

“There’s nothing I want more than to feel every inch of your skin against mine right now...but- but I don’t want to push you to do something that- maker….that might be too much for you?” You pulled back and waited until he opened his eyes again before continuing. “I feel like you just made a dramatic decision by taking the helmet off in front of me and- and you’re probably feeling a multitude of emotions right now and I don’t want to make you think that I-”

Din didn’t like what you were saying, frowning down at you as he grabbed the back of your neck and violently pulled you towards him again. You were surprised by the sudden shift of his touch, fisting your hands in his cowl as he devoured your lips once more, not really giving you a chance to say anything else. Biting your lower lip, Din abruptly ended the kiss and pressed his lips across your skin, nipping and licking at your jaw as he pulled your hair down until he had access to your neck. You gasped his name and felt his stubble scratch deliciously at your shoulder. As you moaned against the wall, Din couldn’t back anymore and bit down hard on your shoulder, smiling when he heard your breath hitch at his rough ministrations.

“Din, oh gods, Din please.” You weren’t sure what you were asking of him exactly and you hoped he’d at the very least continue what he was doing.

“Cyar'ika, I want to have you. I’ve spent many nights dreaming of your lips, your touch, y-your skin against mine as I-” Din hesitated and it wasn’t until you felt his fingers slipping beneath the chest band that you finally registered his voice. Fuck, how had you not notice it a second ago? You thought the vocoder was what altered it, made it deeper perhaps. But no, it only made it sound more intimidating. You weren’t sure what made you clench your thighs together, the way he spoke to you of his desires, or how strained and gruff his voice was as he whispered his secrets to you. You gulped loudly and hesitantly met his eyes, finding the soft brown irises barely visible, his dilated pupils letting you know what he was thinking.

Licking your lips, you nodded at him and fell into a fit of giggles when he leaned down and picked you up as if you weighed nothing, quickly moving to his cot and laying you down on your back before moving away. You were about to ask him what he was doing when you saw his hands swiftly move through the beskar armor. For some reason, watching his hands expertly take off the cuirass and move to the beskar of his thighs made your heart skip a beat and you wouldn’t dare move a muscle, afraid to miss the show he was unintentionally putting on for you. So busy marveling at his deft fingers, you didn’t notice Din slowing his movements and looking at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity when he saw how hard you were breathing.

You broke out of your trance when you saw he stopped moving, embarrassment washing over you when you realized Din had caught you shamelessly staring at him as he came closer to revealing to you more of his skin. You’d expected him to move on, or at least pretend he hadn’t just caught you licking your lips while staring at his fingers but no, it seemed that Din was very much enjoying the effect he had on you because his smile grew when he saw your eyes look past him, pretending to focus on something else behind him and not his hands.

You never lost his attention though, and he maintained his eyes on you as he removed all of his armor and took his boots off. You tried to be a little more subtle but gave up when he leaned down over you and pushed you into his covers. You wanted to ask him why he was still dressed but bit back the inquiry, afraid he’d misunderstand and move away all together at your question. He captured your gaze and didn’t blink once as he slowly undid the buttons holding the overalls and you realized you would have preferred him to keep the helmet on because that meant you wouldn’t notice how passionate and direct his deep brown irises were. You’d expected him to be intense considering how touch-starved and lonely he was, but you never once thought he’d be this vigorous? Ardent? Maker, there wasn’t a single word that could describe the way he was looking at you right now.

Din kneeled at the foot of the bed, waiting until you finally noticed what he was doing and raising your hips before he pulled on the pants of the garment. He slipped your shoes off and finally removed the article of clothing that made his cheeks blush and pants tighten whenever you wore it. He would eventually tell you that this is how you came to him in his dreams almost every night, all spent and sweaty in that gods-forsaken fabric that gave him the perfect view of what you were wearing beneath.

His focus shifted from your face down your damp skin and he breathed in deeply at the sight of your undergarment. Din almost choked on his breath when your legs parted for a moment, giving him a glimpse of the growing wet patch at the center of the flimsy material.

The Mandalorian wanted nothing more than to worship your body, kiss every part of you and whisper his devotion against your skin as he pleasured you over and over again. He’d spent countless nights imagining what he’d do to you if you were ever naked and willing in his arms and he was damned if he didn’t make sure you were thoroughly spent once he was done with you. He wanted to hear his name fall from your lips and he wanted to swallow your sighs and your moans as he sank into you all night long. And by the gods, he wanted to mark your neck and your arms and your waist, and nothing made him harder than picturing you doing the same to him, biting and nipping at his skin so he could wake up in the morning and watch the evidence of your lo- your touch on him. It didn’t matter that no one else would see those bruises but him and you. He just wanted you, in any way possible, sinking beneath his skin.

And then he heard his voice calling for you over the comm link just outside the room and something snapped deep in his chest. He looked up from you to the open door of his room and listened to the Marshal’s words. Your eyes widened in shock when you saw several emotions pass through Din’s eyes, the most prominent of which was anger, maybe hurt. Of all the times Cobb would ask you to join him for drinks, this was most definitely the worst of them. It didn’t help either that he was laughing over some inappropriate joke one of his friends was saying about your sabacc skills. It wouldn’t be the first time this happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last but then Din was clenching his jaw tightly before looking down at you and you knew he wasn’t too happy. In fact, you had a pretty good idea which emotion won out and you hated how much it affected you, how wet you became as thoughts of the Mandalorian claiming you as his flooded your mind.

Before you could try and reason with him, attempt to tell him that it was just a game and that the Marshal’s friends were probably just teasing him, Din was standing up and stripping of his long-sleeve shirt, revealing his perfectly chiseled, bronze skin that had your mouth watering within moments. You noticed the few dozen scars littering his beautiful torso and wished you could kiss each one of them, the old ones and the fairly new ones, until they didn’t sting with pain. But Din had different plans for you and he didn’t give you a chance to question him as he took hold of both of your wrists and slammed them above your head. His hold was painful and it should have scared you how quickly his mood changed but you said nothing, looking into his dilated pupils as his nose flared and he growled at you.

“Keep yours hands there,” Din warns you with a piercing look and you gulp loudly before nodding at him in understanding. He removes his hand and kneels on the bed, eyes narrowing at you before they sought after your most private areas. He wasn’t sure where to begin. He’d given this much thought but now that he was here, he realized it was a more difficult decision than he anticipated. He’d longed to wrap his lips around those hardened peaks always teasing him through the chest band, lick them until you cried for him, perhaps begged him to stop because you were sensitive. But then he continued down the lines of your navel and found your parted legs much more inviting.

Now that Din knew how you felt, there was no reason for him to feel jealous. But he couldn't stop himself, wanting to be certain that you knew as well as he who you belonged to. He hated himself for having such primitive thoughts about you. You were your own person that much was made clear early on. But he could hope at your words, couldn’t he? He could hope that you were now his, and that he was yours. Maker, he was always yours. He just couldn’t admit it to himself, his heart reluctant at opening up to another.

Din was lost in thought longer than you liked and you moved your feet towards him, nudging his thigh in hopes of reassuring him that you were right here, in his bed, beneath him and at his mercy. Din’s eyes focused on your again and he looked down at the soft gesture, hands instantly grabbing at your ankles. You jumped at the sudden movement, trying your hardest not to whine at the painful grasp because somewhere deep inside of you, you wanted nothing more than to be marked by him. By his teeth, lips, fingers, any part of him. You didn’t care where you’d bear his touch, you just wanted to see it, touch it in the privacy of the refresher when he wasn’t around.

Din saw the needy look you were throwing him and he knew that you were willing. Willing to go as far as he wanted, willing to completely submit your body and soul to him, willing to do whatever he wished of you.

Before your eyes could flutter closed, Din was pushing your legs wide open and falling in between them while maintaining his gaze on you. He almost smiled when your stomach shook at how feral he probably looked. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes as his mouth latched onto the wet patch forming on the soft fabric of your undergarment, moaning into your cunt as he savored the taste seeping through. You were surprised by the boldness of the action and wished for him to lick your skin instead. But there was something erotic about the desperation behind his actions, wanting to taste you so much that he didn’t care what he was licking.

The thought was gone as soon as it appeared because you felt two fingers stretch beneath the waistband right before he ripped it off of your body, shoving the torn fabric in his nose and taking a long whiff of it before humming in approval. Your eyes widened in surprise at the filthiness of his action, hands shaking above you when he threw your panties expertly into his helmet. The thought of knowing that your scent could potentially stick to the inside of his helmet as he walked around twisted your insides and you whined shamelessly at him, wishing he could just take what he wanted.

“Your sounds belong to me,” Din spoke with a commanding voice as he sank in between your thighs again, his tongue dragging across your folds so deliciously hard until he pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva behind. “Your arousal belongs to me,” his hands went to your thighs and he squeezed, knowing fully well there would be bruises dawning your beautiful, smooth body the following morning. Again, you fought to keep your eyes open, wanting to commit every second to memory but finding it difficult to focus on him and not the pleasure zapping down your back. “And I will be damned if this cunt,” Din let go of one of your thighs, pulling his tongue away from your core right before the palm of his hand landed a slap straight on your clit, “doesn’t belong to me either.” You cried out his name, legs shaking violently at the pain shooting through your clit. Din didn’t give you a moment to relax back down on the covers, spanking the outer folds of your pussy twice more consecutively before he replaced the harsh touch with his cooling tongue. Tears trailed down your cheeks as he fucked you with his tongue and lapped at you like you were the only source of water on this gods-forsaken planet. He rotated between soft, quick licks to long, harsh ones, occasionally sucking on your clit and grazing his teeth on the bundle of nerves until he was sure you were going crazy.

“D-Din oh maker, please. Stop I- slow down.” His touches were far from gentle and the pleasure blurred into pain as you tried to reach that delicious peak you’ve longed for ever since you harbored feelings for the man above you. But he was making it difficult, his needy and erratic movements making it near impossible for you to dive into the lake of pleasure. You should have known that the Mandalorian was as intense in bed as he was in every other aspect of his life. You shut your thighs around his head, wanting to push him away as his teeth continued to graze against your wet folds and nip at the pulsating nub.

“M-Mando...I can’t.” You couldn’t take it anymore, hands moving to his hair and fisting in the beautiful brown locks as you tried to push him away. As soon as Din felt the tight grasp on his hair, he snarled at you, pushing up on his knees and bending your body along with him until the only thing resting on the bed was your neck and your shoulders. You cried out for him, begging him to give you release but it only drove him mad with lust. His eyes locked on yours, daring you to look away from him as his fingers dug into your butt cheeks and pushed your cunt into his mouth.

Din pulled away for a split second, biting your inner thighs to grab your attention.

“You will take what I give you ner Cyar’ika.” You saw a hint of darkness in his soulful brown eyes, and shivered at the mere implications of what he had in mind for you. Din sucked and licked at your folds like a crazed man, feeling your legs shaking on his shoulders. He pulled away for a second, and you had no time to beg him to be gentle as he slapped your heated core three times again, hissing when you shut your eyes and bucked against him, your juices drenching his face and chest, leaking down your back as he smiled before taking your cunt into his mouth one last time to prolong your pleasure. You were too busy trying to remain sane to realize what had just happened and Din slowly lowered you back onto the wet covers before letting go of you. You were panting beneath him, stomach fluttering from the force of your release and chest heaving as you tried to fill your lungs with air.

When you opened your eyes and looked at Din, your eyes widened in horror when you saw his glistening skin, finally realizing what he'd just done to you. You flushed under the scrutiny of Din’s gaze, gasping as he wiped his mouth and jaw with the back of his hand as he looked down and chuckled at the wet spot beneath his knees. You quickly shut your legs and tried to crawl away from him but Din was faster, grabbing your ankle and pulling you back to him, the show of strength already making your cunt clench around nothing again.

“You do not run from me Ad’ika...nor hide from me ever again. I own your body, your skin, the cum still leaking out of this sweet cunt.” His words were filthy and you didn’t know how to react to this new possessiveness he was showing. He pushed open your thighs and fell in between him, bringing his chest flush against yours and kissing the breath out of you, not bothering to be gentle as his fingers twisted and pinched at your nipples. You clawed at his back, wanting more of him but not knowing if you would be able to take any more of what he was offering.

He pulled away suddenly, his jaw clenching tightly as he took one look at the hands wrapped around his back.

“Did I not tell you to not move your hands sweet girl?” He whispered against your lips, breathing in the air leaving your lungs as he pecked the corner of your mouth before flipping you over on your stomach.

“I- I’m sorry...it was just t-too much and-” You couldn’t finish the rest of the sentence, screaming against the covers as you felt Din’s palm land on your ass. You looked back and saw him eyeing your reddening skin, looking up at you and smiling as he treated the other side with the same kindness. Four more times his hands smacked your ass and you were ashamed at how aroused his violent actions made you. When he snuck his fingers in between your thighs and swiped haphazardly at your folds, you moaned and bit into your wrist.

“Filthy sweet girl,” Din whispered more to himself than you before he fisted his hand in your hair and pulled you flush to his chest, the slide of your dampened back against his sweaty chest bringing him more pleasure than he would have liked to admit because not a few hours ago, he was picturing your sweaty, glistening skin beneath him. And now that he had you here, he was going to make the best of it.

“Mando, oh Mando-” As much as he loved hearing you scream his nickname in the throws of passion, he wished more to hear his given name fall from your lips.

“My name...scream my name sweet girl. Let the stars know who pleasures you Cyare.” Din kissed your shoulder before biting into the sweaty flesh, the hand in your hair letting go right before wrapping softly around your throat and pressing you harder against him. Your hands twisted back to try and grab his hair but he immediately took your wrist and twisted it until it was behind you, between your back and his chest.

“Ahh Din…” You wanted to beg him to allow you to touch him, tell him that you were yearning to touch him as much as he was in need of touching you. But you had a feeling that this wasn’t true, and that this was his way of being certain that you weren’t going to leave him. That you were his.

If only he knew that you have already belonged to him. Long before tonight.

You felt each breath leave your lungs as Din tightened his grasp around your throat and you parted your lips to moan his name, only to feel his tongue shamelessly licking into your mouth. So distracted by the desperation in this kiss, you didn’t notice the fingers trailing down your chest and digging into your skin until the palm of his hand softly cupped one breast. Din teased you with feather light touches, flicking at one nipple before moving to the other and circling around it until it hardened. He continued to swallow your noises, sucking on your tongue to quiet you as he pinched your nipples. You twisted in his arms, wanting to reach for him again but knowing that he would probably pull your hand away.

When Din pulled away to allow you to breathe, you panted and finally opened your eyes, not daring to look away as he kept you motionless with his gaze. Din watched as you tried to form a coherent thought, waiting until you parted your lips to speak to him before reaching down and cupping your quivering cunt as he broke the silence.

“This belongs to me,” your breath hitched when Din pressed the palm of his hand against you, not quite applying pressure on your clit but just enough to hold your focus. “Only I get to touch you, kiss you, watch you as you come undone in my arms.” You nodded briefly at him, continuing to hold eye contact as he began to increase his actions. “No one else will ever have you Cyar'ika. No one but me.” He slipped two fingers past your wet folds and rubbed against your walls, humming in approval when he felt you flutter around him the harder he shoved his fingers inside you.

“I’m yours Din, y-yours. Whatever you want, oh gods please more...need more, Din you make me f-feel so good.” Din keened at your words, curling his hand until his palm was passing deliciously over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace.

“That’s right sweet girl, you’re mine. Mine to fuck, mine to take whenever I want...mine to-” Din hesitated for a second, unable to voice his heart to you even though you’ve bared your soul for him. “Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum...kriffing gods you’re wet, so wet for me. Come on, cum for me again ner Cyare. Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how needy this little cunt is, fuck- I...can’t want to have you wrapped around my cock little one. Can’t wait to sink in this pussy, my sweet tight cunt, mark you with my seed, over and over again...fuck a load in you all night long till you can’t feel anything but my cum dripping down your thighs. Shit, I need you to cum, now!” Your mind became foggy with pleasure, unable to focus on anything but the words whispered into your ears as his thick fingers fucked into you. You grabbed the wrist of the hand wrapped around your throat, digging your nails into his skin as you came around his fingers. You almost fell forwards but Din held you flush against him, continuing to drive his digits into you and rub at your clit with this thumb until you were sobbing in his arms.

“Beautiful,” Din kissed your shoulder as he slowly inched his hands away from you before laying you down slowly. His eyes took in the flushed, wet skin of your back, chuckling with pride when he saw your legs shaking as little sobs escaped your lips. Your breaths came in shallow and quick, and you tried to silence your whines by biting into your wrists but then you felt Din slide his hand back and forth on your back as he laid next to you and you shivered under his touch because from the way he was moving closer to you and touching you, there was no way he was done just yet.

“You’re all I think about, every waking moment. It’s difficult to focus on anything else when you’re always in my mind Cyar'ika. I- I burn for you, for your lips to caress mine every moment, your eyes to never leave mine as I brand you, your skin against my own as you mark me with your touch. I- maker, I cannot think of a life without you here, with me…” Din thought he would have to force himself to say such things but he found it remarkably easy now that he had you here, responding so openly and shamelessly to him.

“Din,” you turned your head and shifted towards him, kissing the hand resting between the two of you before leaning your forehead against his and shutting your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here, for as long as you’ll have me.” Din ceased all movement at your words and he looked away from where he was stroking your back, meeting your eyes and furrowing his eyebrows before you felt him grab your arm and pull you on top of him. You surprised gasp died in your throat when you felt Din wrap his arms around your back and bring you against him until you could feel his chest hairs tickling your nipples. You could feel his cock jutting against your core through his pants and as you rested your hands on his chest and looked to him, you saw the frown ease from his expression, replaced with something akin to reverence.

“I will have you until my dying breath Mesh’la. Let me show you how much I want you.” The force of his declaration hit you instantly and you pressed your lips against his just as you felt him rid himself of his pants. Din’s hands were roaming your back and you felt bolder with every caress, combing your fingers into his hair and pulling on it as he squeezed your ass and bucked into you. The growl emanating from his chest shot straight to your core and you raised yourself from him for a moment.

“Din, I want you. Crave to feel you inside me. Please, do it fast and don’t- don’t be gentle. Show me, show me how much you lo- want me.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your words and he wasted no time, taking hold of his cock and teasing your clit with his leaking tip before slowly inching inside you. You shut your eyes and dug your nails into the back of his neck as he continued to sheath his dick deeper in your cunt. You could feel every ridge and pulsating vein dragging against your inner walls, finally allowing your lungs to breathe as you felt him nudge and twitch against that soft, spongy spot in your core.

Neither of you moved for a few moments, with Din trying to wrap his mind around finally becoming one with you and feeling you clench so sweetly around him. He was torn between fucking up into you without mercy and taking it nice and slow until he pushed you over the edge again. But then you were gyrating your hips and sighing his name on his cheek and he knew what he wanted.

Planting his feet on the damp covers, Din held you flush against him with one arm while resting his other hand on your thigh, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he snapped his hips up before sinking into you again. You let out a surprised sob and rested your forehead against his shoulder, whispering more pleas against his skin and begging him to move.

The usually quiet man breathed the sweetest wishes in your ears, thrusting up into you with immense force that made you clench tighter around him. “Ni copad gar an te ca'nara Ad’ika, ni vercopa be gar anay ca. You have made a home for yourself inside my heart.” Din felt your shaky breath blow on his neck and it drove him mad with lust because he wanted to have you reacting to his touch so wantonly every minute of every day. His grip only tightened around you and he prayed you wouldn’t mind the bruises that would surely color your skin in the next few hours. He wasn’t planning on being gentle tonight, perhaps later, but not tonight, and he was going to ensure his touch would be visible for anyone that would speak with you tomorrow. Thoughts of the Marshal passed through his mind’s eye and he growled, pumping his cock into you harshly for some reassurance. You cried out his name over and over again, feeling your skin heat up at the declarations of love he was peppering on your skin because even though his words were gentle, his touches were far from it.

The squelching sounds of your cunt flooding Din’s thighs as he drove himself into you should have embarrassed you but you could tell he enjoyed knowing how wet you were for him from the way he continued to quicken the pace just to hear your juices flowing over him. His grip on you was becoming more painful the more you moved against each other but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him know. He was letting go, showing you how much he wanted you, how hard he was for you, and you weren’t about to make him feel conscious over his affection.

“Maker...oh Din, Din I- you feel so good inside me. Filling me up like no one else. Could feel you so deep, gods, could feel you everywhere Din please- don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop, I need it. Need you, want you- want you to mark me, d-do whatever you want with me.” You had no hold over your own speech and weren’t sure if you were making any sense but Din moaned each time you praised him.

“Good girl, sweet girl...taking my cock so well, kriffing hell. Your- your pussy is squeezing the fuck out of me..could feel every tight inch of you stroking my cock Cyar’ika. Ah pfassk...you’re- you’re perfection.” Din moved the hand around your back up to your neck, pulling on your hair and pressing his lips with yours as his cock throbbed inside you. You whined as his tongue roughly swirled around your own, barely able to breathe as he continued to snap his hips against you and suddenly feeling a rush of relief as his navel rubbed at your clit until you came around him. Din broke the kiss, screaming expletives in his tongue as the force of your orgasm pushed his cock out of you. You shuddered as you gushed on his dick, wrapping your arms around his neck when he forced his cock into your tight cunt again.

You were so overcome with emotions, so lost in Din’s scent mixing with your own, and his touch leaving bruises on your skin, that you didn’t notice the faint sounds of footsteps coming up the ramp and halting in the middle of the ship right in front of the door. But Din noticed, managing to look up just in time to see Cobb standing in the middle of the ship and staring with wide eyes at the scene unfolding in front of him.

Something completely otherworldly took over the Mandalorian and he quickly sat up, expertly moving the two of you around until he was kneeling on the covers with you straddling his thighs. He smiled against your shoulder, allowing your hair to hide his face as he grabbed both of your hips and fucked up into you.

He could vaguely see the Marshal and was surprised that he hadn't dropped the bottle of drink in his hand just yet. You wailed into the night air, arms keeping you stead in Din’s arms as he forced you on his pulsating dick over and over again.

“Tell me...tell me Cyare, tell me how much you love it when I fuck you. How much you need my cock like the filthy little cockslut you are. Go on sweet girl, grind that little clit on me. Fucking tell me ner Ad’ika.” Din smacked your ass twice, chuckling when your moans grew more lewd with every touch he laid on you.

“I- I- ahhh love your cock...oh maker, no one fucks me like you. N-no one makes me c-cum like you. Fuck me harder D- ahhh,” Din bit down on your shoulder to prevent you from saying his name, looking through the mess of your hair and watching as his audience remained incapable of moving.

“I own this pretty little pussy. Pffassk- ride me harder Mesh’la. You’re such a good girl, could feel your cunt drenching my thighs, the smell of you is driving me mad. Fuck- keep that pretty mouth open to me when I’m fucking you, let me hear you scream for me.”

“Please- please...fuck me harder, ruin my pussy. Gods- I..I’m so close please. Tell me you own me, tell me I’m you’re sweet girl. Please- I want to be good for you, want you to cum inside me Din...cum inside me. I need it, need you to fuck me like you own me and mark me, make me yours Mando. Cum in me, please-”

“Ah fuck you’re my sweet little girl aren’t you? Wanting me to fuck a load in you, cum in you all night long and keep my seed in that tight cunt? That’s it sweetheart, I’m so fucking hard for you. Could feel you clenching around me...be a good girl and cum again ner kar'ta. Fuck, yes yes you feel so good wrapped around my cock Cyare you’re going to make me cum. Spill my seed in that tight, wet pussy, fill you up till you can taste it in your throat. Shit, and- and I’m going to keep fucking you sweet girl, till my cum is sliding down your thighs. My little fucktoy- come on, come on love, cum for me. Cum on me, drench me again. Mix your juices with me.” Din watched as Cobb finally had the mind to leave and he almost laughed at how the man almost tripped on his own foot as he sprinted out of the ship. He pushed you on your back and spread your thighs open, resting his weight on the arms around your head as he thrust in a few more times before he felt you clench around him. Leaning down, Din took a pert nipple in his mouth and sucked on it, growling into your skin as he came deep in your pussy, painting your walls with long strings of his seed until he couldn’t breathe. He’d never cum this hard before and was sure to tell you when you had the state of mind to pay him any semblance of attention.

Din continued to lazily push into you, your words from earlier replaying in his mind as he felt you quiver around his softening cock. You were still coming down from your high and twitched occasionally when you felt him throb inside you. There was a pleasant kind of warmth washing over you and you sighed happily when you realized he was still bucking against you to push his cum in your belly.

“D-din...you’re filling me up so good. Feel so full ah- gah.” He laughed when your body shook, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you around until you were laying on his chest. You kissed his jaw and his neck, moaning in unison when you felt his dick rub against that sweet spot inside you.

“That’s because I’ve never cum this hard sweet girl. You’ve milked me dry Cyare. Could feel you sucking my seed out of me.” He was amazed at your obvious embarrassment, wanting to tease you about it but choosing to wait for later instead.

Din rubbed at your back, kissing your forehead as he whispered sweet things in your ears and smiling when you nipped at his neck some more.

“Promise me you’ll never leave.” Din’s quiet voice broke the silence and you pushed up to look into his eyes as you responded. “I’m not going anywhere, even if you tell me to go. I’ll stay here, always. I promise.” You kissed him gently and felt his pulse beneath your fingers calm at your words.

Not much time has passed before Din had you on your knees in front of him, fucking your mouth and shoving you down on his cock until you gagged and his seed slipped from the corner of your mouth, mixing with your spit as it fell down your breasts. You lost count of how many times he brought you pleasure, and you made a mental note to ask him how he managed to fuck you all night long. You weren’t sure it was possible for a man to cum this many times over the course of one night but you had a feeling Din was not like anyone else. A man who has been touch starved for almost three decades must have had a lot of pent-up aggression that he needed to release. And you would gladly help him in any shape or form through that.

And when he wasn’t pumping your cunt full of his cum, he was nuzzling into your neck and laying kisses across your arms, making sure he caressed every inch of your skin. You shouldn’t have been surprised that Din loved to snuggle with you but you did find it hilarious that such a big and scary Mandalorian whimpered when you licked down his neck as you nestled into his arms. You wouldn’t tell him just yet but besides his rough grasps and his filthy words, you loved to taste the saltiness of his skin and from the looks of it, the feelings were mutual because at some point in the night, he’d told you of all the times he had to lock himself up in the refresher and try his hardest to not think of your sweaty limbs entangling with his own as he kissed you.

By the time the two of you made it outside the following day, the twin suns had already been in the middle of the sky, scorching rays of heat on everyone across Mos Pelgo. You tried your hardest not to walk too funny, mostly because it made Din apologize every now and then, but it was difficult when you could still feel traces of his touch on you. You told him you needed him to stop making it obvious but realized he was apologizing out of regret not out of humor. It took you all of the afternoon to convince him that you were feeling more than okay and that you’d asked him for this. And when he didn’t seem to stop, you teased him and told him that you knew he secretly loved watching you wobble from side to side.

This all, however, peaked when you walked into the cantina and tried to play Sabbac with Cobb Vanth and the others. You could tell that the Marshal was avoiding all conversation with you, going out of his way to pretend you weren’t even sitting on the table, let alone the room. You hoped that Mando hadn’t spoken with him or anything and decided to call it quits earlier in the night. When you did make it back to the ship and saw Din cleaning his weapons, you made sure the ship was secure before moving to sit on the bed across from him.

“Did you talk to Cobb today?” You gauged his reaction, already sensing that something was wrong when you saw him nervously clench his jaw before rubbing furiously at the beskar weapon.

“No, why do you ask?” Din wished he hadn’t already taken off his helmet because as soon as he responded, you knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth.

“Din?”

He looked up at you and cleared his throat before speaking.

“He- he saw us...last night. I- I must have forgotten to raise the ramp and-” Din took a deep breath when you shot up from the cot and began to pace back and forth.

“HE WHAT?”

“We were...I couldn’t- there wasn’t a chance I could…you felt too good around me Ad’ika I- I couldn’t stop. Not when you were clenching around me so tightly. Now when you were finally in my arms. I-” He stood up and walked towards you, taking your hands into his and kissing both of your wrists. You flushed at his words and looked up at him, only to find him blushing under your gaze.

“You did it on purpose didn't you? You wanted him to see...to watch as you- as we...as I said-” Din didn’t let you finish the sentence, leaning down and molding his lips with yours as he walked you back to his bed. He pushed you down on the covers still holding your scents, his hold hardening the more you moaned against him. Before he could strip you of your clothes, you pushed him off and stuck out your finger in warning.

“Oh no you don’t. Go raise the ramp.”

“You’re giving me orders now Mesh’la?” Din raised an eyebrow at you as he got off of you and walked around the bed, halting at the doorstep to look back at you.

“Never…”

Translations:

Ad'ika - Little one

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Cyare - Beloved

Ner - my/mine

Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum - mine to love

Ni copad gar an te ca'nara - I want you all the time.

Ni vercopa be gar anay ca - I dream of you every night.

Ner kar'ta - my heart

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