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themaribatpit · 3 years ago

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Jasonette July Day 1: Suit Up

EDIT: Written by The Maribat Pit Content warning: Swearing, there is a quote that is a reference to Titans!Jason, references to Chloe’s actions in “Battle of the Miraculous”. Rated: T Inspired by: that one Tumblr post that suggested what would happen if Jason used a Lucky Charm. Prompt: Suit Up The kidnappers had Marinette, and Jason knew that desperate times called for desperate measures. Marinette hadn’t returned home from her mission the night before, Plagg returned that morning without her. He explained that Marinette had managed to free most of the kidnapped kids, but she was captured shortly after being depowered. They assumed she was one of the kids that hadn’t managed to escape.

Jason went from slightly worried to absolutely frantic. Roy was still in rehab, and there was no time to call in the Bat clan for help, it was up to him. In his mind, the more time they wasted, the closer she came to sharing his fate. “Great, just fucking fantastic”, he muttered to himself “the bad guys have the girl you love and you’re here looking for her jewelry”. If he went in guns blazing as the Red Hood, they would probably just kill her instantly and without a second thought. That being said, she would probably kill him later for tearing through the apartment like this. He was flipping the bed on its side, opening all the drawers and pulling out all of the contents. He was trying to find the Chinese Miracle Box, thinking maybe someone in there would help him if it meant saving their Guardian. He remembered a conversation they had when his curiosity about her powers got the better of him.

“So what if you were to, hypothetically, use several of these things at once?” He remembered asking.

“I did once, the Multimouse clones were using different fusions. Wearing them all at once can be pretty draining, even the fusions can be pretty taxing at the best of times if I’m not careful” she explained.

She also explained what happened when her old classmate tried to put on various Miraculous at once and started demanding power from them. Suffice it to say she didn’t get her way. So, by the sound of things, Tikki was his best bet, or he’d probably end up pissing off the other ones like Chloe did.

He found the box in her closet and opened it, to find that Plagg’s ring was missing and so were Tikki’s earrings. He closed the box and pushed it back into the closet, before searching the room for the earrings. She had said something before about Plagg and Tikki being the least suspicious of him. Probably because their combined magic was what created the Lazarus pits, the very reason he wasn’t still six feet under. He finally noticed the small red and black box sitting on the chest of drawers, and he popped it open to find the earrings inside. He wasted no time putting the studs in one ear, before a pink ball of light appeared in front of him. The ball of light turned into Tikki who gave a little stretch and yawn before being startled to see Jason instead of Marinette in front of her. “Hey Tikki, sorry, no time to explain but Marinette’s in trouble” he spluttered, “please I need your help, I wouldn’t be asking otherwise”.

“If that’s true, then there’s no time to waste, let’s go!” Tikki exclaimed, “Just say the words and I’ll help you.” Jason’s mind suddenly drew a blank, as he tried to remember what words Marinette used to transform into Ladybug.

“Bug Prism Power Make Up?” he tried.

“He doesn’t know the magic words?” Plagg asked slyly, “our Guardian’s life is on the line and he doesn’t know the magic words”.

“I know that you’d make a nice chew toy for Brutus”, Jason snapped as he tried to think. “Go go Lucky Charm?” he tried, Tikki shook her head.

“Lucky charm usually comes a bit later” she rubbed the back of her head, “keep trying, if Marinette is in trouble, then she needs our help”.

“Okay let me think, uh…It’s Magic Time? Ladybug Up? In brightest day, in blackest night...?” He kept throwing out suggestions, but Tikki continued to shake her head. “Uh, Shazam?” he had to give that one a try at least once, Tikki sighed.

Tikki thought it was admirable watching him at least trying to figure it out, even if Plagg was no help at that moment. It was clear to the little Kwami, she didn’t need to look that hard to know that this boy cared deeply for Marinette, even if he was hesitant to admit it at first. Tikki remembered gently encouraging Marinette to confess her feelings towards him, while Roy and Jason’s brothers took a more…direct approach.

“All right Jason, I’ll tell you the magic words but first,” Tikki told him and they both heard the Kwami’s stomach growl, breaking the awkward silence in the room. Jason remembered why Marinette usually kept a cookie on hand whenever she brought Tikki along, while the faint smell of cheese usually meant Plagg was in tow instead.

“Come on, let’s go get you a cookie” Jason said, “and some cheese for you” he shot Plagg a slightly irritated look. As Jason looked around the kitchen, the only cookies and cheese they had were the cheap stuff. Tikki tried to be polite about the fact that the oreo wasn’t going to cut it, Plagg just turned up his little cat nose at the processed American cheese. “Sorry Tikki, Marinette’s been a bit busy lately,” he told her before rounding on Plagg “what’s your problem?”

“You don’t happen to have any camembert, do you?” he asked, still refusing to even look at the slice of processed cheese.

“Camembert? Who was your last user?” Jason asked incredulously. Desperate times were calling for even more desperate measures, “just hang in there Marinette,” he thought.

Jason wouldn’t be racing over to Wayne Manor if it wasn’t a dire emergency. Tikki was safely tucked away in his jacket pocket, while Plagg was clinging to the hem of his jacket as it billowed behind him. Jason brought his motorbike to a stop just outside the gates, before hopping off darting past Damian, petting a sleeping Alfred the cat in his lap. Right now, he was hoping Alfred the human was baking something that would catch the Kwami’s eye. Sadly, he was not, a note on the kitchen door explained he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Sadly, this couldn’t wait until tomorrow. He opened the kitchen door, the cookies from Alfred’s last batch were stored in a cookie jar on top of the fridge. There was one cookie left, he unzipped his pocket and gestured to the cookie in the jar. Jason reached up and grabbed the jar, before opening it and grabbing the cookie inside. He also reached into the fridge and grabbed the camembert for Plagg. With the Kwami munching on their snacks of choice, he dashed out of the kitchen. Plagg had practically inhaled the wheel of cheese all at once, and glided alongside him. Meanwhile, Tikki clung to the cookie with one hand and the hem of Jason’s pocket with the other.

That morning, Bruce was not expecting to see Jason rushing past him. He wasn’t expecting to see a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie threatening to fly out of his jacket pocket. “Hi, can’t talk now, Marinette needs help, bye.” He called before disappearing down the hallway. Jason dashed past Dick who had just woken up, and Tim was on his way to the kitchen for some more coffee.

“Was that the last cookie?” Dick asked, slightly groggily.

“Oh that had better not be the last cookie” Tim groaned, someone had better be dying if that was the case.

Jason rushed to his motorcycle, and slammed the gate shut behind him before hopping on and putting on his helmet. Tikki was halfway through munching on the cookie, when she gave him a quick rundown of the powers that she would be giving him. Jason knew that the Miraculous granted the user enhanced speed, strength and endurance, he just hadn’t thought there would come a day when he would have to use their power. It was probably for the best that their guardian didn’t choose him when he was 13, for reasons that a bunch of guards were about to find out very soon.

Meanwhile, Marinette found herself in a cage inside a warehouse. There were two men guarding the cage, neither of them knew that Marinette was the girl in the black leather catsuit. They caught her just as the clock had run out on her powers, and they assumed she was one of the kids that had been captured. She was a petite young woman, and they found her dressed in a polka dotted hoodie, shorts and tights. She sent Plagg to go get help, and he had been gone for a few hours now. She was getting increasingly antsy, Jason was probably worried sick about her.

Jason arrived at the suspected gang hideout as fast as could, leapt off his bike and grappled to a vantage point. “Ok, relatively small time trafficking racket. Now where is Pixie Pop?” Jason thought to himself, scanning the area from his vantage point. “Plagg, go find Marinette, and tell her to not transform until I arrive.” Plagg flew out of Jason’s pocket and made his way there. “Alright Tikki, what's the magic word?” The Kwami flew out of Jason’s pocket as he spoke, Tikki glided to Jason’s ear and whispered to him the phrase. Jason repeated “Spots On” and felt power coursing through his veins. It felt like Venom without the addictive or berserk tendencies, pure energy was flowing through him. He felt the uncontrollable urge to pose and move with the flow of energy, doing a flourish of kicks and punches. It ended with him raising his left leg to his head, as if it was a vertical split and slamming it down. “Owwwwwwwwwwww” Jason groaned, “My thighs were not meant to do that.” He was not expecting the compulsive flourishes for the transformation itself.

Jason looked at his reflection in a nearby puddle, he could see he was wearing a full spotted suit and domino mask like Ladybug, yet his leather jacket stayed during the transformation and received its own ladybug pattern. Jason sucked up the pain and pushed onwards to the gang hideout.

Jason snuck in through a vent and approached a large main room, housing most if not all of the guards and their “merchandise” with cages strewn across the room with mostly women and children locked up. He finally sees Marinette, alive but imprisoned in a cage with a few other people in a corner. Jason needed a distraction so that Marinette could transform into Lady Noire. He had to do something to take the attention off every single person in the room.

Jason sighed and thought of a plan, it may not be the most flattering, but it worked and it would not be so threatening as cutting out the lights. He burst from the air vents and landed in a crouch, standing straight and shouting “Halt Evildoers, it I...Red Bug?”

This indeed worked as planned, as every guard, goon and hostage set their eyes on the intruder. The guards began pointing and laughing, “Good, they don't think I’m a threat” thought Jason. The guards underestimating Red Bug was what he needed, so that they would not find him threatening or harm anyone just yet.

Marinette took this opportunity to transform into Lady Noire. She wasted no time and began with Cataclysm, bringing down all the cages and making her way to Jason’s position. Both Lady Noire and Red Bug began fighting the guards, buying the hostages time to make their escape. As the last person successfully escaped the gang hideout, both Lady Noire and Red Bug stood side by side. More of them began to trickle in as they heard the commotion and began to surround the pair.

Marinette needed to think fast, she didn't have much time left after casting Cataclysm. She said to her partner, “Lucky Charm, Now!” Red Bug raised his eyebrow, “Lucky Charm?” he repeated. He suddenly felt the same compulsion as he did during the transformation, his arm suddenly shot upward with the yo-yo spinning. He looked up to see a swarm of ladybugs converge to form...a purse? Red Bug caught the purse with a look of disbelief, Lady Noire looked around the room for a plan to use the purse. Lady Noire got a burst of inspiration and turned around to tell her partner of her cunning plan, only to be greeted by thin air. She was brought out of her stupor hearing her partner yell out “LIGHTS OUT BITCH!”. She whipped her head towards the source of the noise to see Red Bug beating the guards with the Ladybug-themed purse. “I guess that works too” she said to nobody in particular. Knowing she had little time remaining as Lady Noire, she started running for the exit. Red Bug had no issue dealing with the remaining goons. Marinette hadn’t expected Jason to suit up with one of the Miraculous, not that she was complaining. She had expected him to come charging in as the Red Hood, or maybe start by picking off the guards one-by-one. She was surprised, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one, mostly. Since leaving Chat Noir behind in Paris, the fight left her feeling oddly nostalgic. Sometimes she missed fighting alongside a Miraculous user, though Tikki might have something to say about his...unusual use of a Lucky Charm. She walked over to Jason’s parked motorcycle and waited. Within minutes Jason followed suit and walked out the front door of the hideout. A swirl of green light surrounded him as he changed back, and Tikki zoomed over towards Marinette. Tikki nuzzled against Marinette’s face for a moment, before Jason walked towards her. He pulled his girlfriend into a big hug, Marinette is left breathless for a moment as he nuzzles into her neck. He didn’t say anything, but neither of them really needed to say anything at that moment. Touched by how much Jason cared for her, Marinette returned the hug. She stayed in that warm embrace for a long moment, before reaching up and gently patting him on the head. “Let’s go home...Pixie Pop.” Jason pulled away at the mention of the nickname he gave her, and before she could react, Jason began pinching her cheeks. “What did you call me?” Jason jokingly interrogated, while Marinette giggled like an idiot. EXTRA: Jason is sitting next to Dick and Damian in the Wayne manor lounge with two ice packs on his thighs Jason: I don’t know how you do it Dickie, my thighs were not meant to do that. Dick (covers Damian’s ears): Soooo did you and Marinette…. Jason: I literally beat up some guys with a purse today, don’t push me.

#jasonette #jasonettejuly2021 #maribat

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thefanbasewhore · 4 years ago

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For Din Djarin:

You should def do angst prompt #1 where the reader trys to talk to him or help him but he refuses because he’s scared she’ll get hurt or something like that! Idk if youve already done this ! :)

Summary: prompt no. 1 "Sometimes I wonder if you even like me." "It sure feels like you hate me." In order to keep you safe, he stays distant.

Warning/content: Angst, Din is kinda a dick but none the less I hope you like it, thanks for the request ❤️

Paring: din djarin x female reader

In order to keep you safe, he stays distant. It's an internal fight he battles every day torn between knowing the closer you get the more danger you're in but also wanting to admit that he feels for you. His heart pounds in his chest at just the thought of you and his eyes beg to see that smile that crinkles under your eyes and bits of your nose. It's hard to ingore his body's and mind's need and want for you.

Instead of crawling into your bed late at night like he wants, he checks up on you, pulls the blanket back up to your chin and gives himself a few minutes to just look at you, peaceful and beautiful.

Instead of holding your hand when getting supplies he lets the child. Instead of giving into the life always wanted, taking the helmet off forever he locks himself away in his room with dream of what ifs.

It's true, you're beautiful, there's no doubting it but that's not the reason. You're kind, patient, sweet, care about others, no one like you has ever left such an impact on his lonely heart. Except the kid of course, the exact reason he hired you.

Even now with your hand rubbing the bare patch of skin that separates from his tunic to the helmet he wants to feel more, wants to lift up this stupid helmet and kiss you but he's frozen, stunned by the fact you came over to comfort him, touch his skin like you never have before. Not to mention that you had snuck on him, his thoughts so consumed of you he didn't notice.

"What is it Din? I can tell there's something wrong."

"Nothing. I already told you that." His tone is harsh, biting the inside of his cheek in annoyance. It catches you off guard, soft pads of your fingers falling from his skin. It burns with acknowledgment, a silent beg to bring you back but he ignores it.

"Sometimes I wonder if you even like me." The words are low but make his head turn to meet your burning gaze. All breath stops, chest momentarily paused as if he'll miss whatever else you have to say.

"Why would you say that?" He questions, steading himself with the armrest of the co-pilot chair. "I like you, otherwise you wouldn't be on this ship."

"It sure feels like you hate me." He doesn't miss the way your bottom lip quivers, throat drying instantly with the realization you were on the brink of tears, fiddling your fingers as you make a b-line for the door of the cockpit.

He's frozen for a few seconds, his own heart aching at the fact he is the reason, you're hurting because of his constant denial of being hopelessly in love with you. It isn't long before the loud, heavy boots following you. Din walks slow, cautiously past his own sad of an excuse of a bed to your own.

The child is slipping against your chest, curled up in your arms as your back faces Din. He watches the way your body rises with each cry, he can't necessarily see your face but knows. He doesn't say a word as he approaches you, catching your wrist as he sinks into one knee.

"Hey, I'm sorry."

Biting your lip and staying quiet and looking down at the baby instead of answering but the cool leather of the orange fingertips curve your jaw, gentle and sweet. "I mean it. I can never hate you, never sweet girl."

#din djarin fan fiction #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #din dijarin x reader #the mandolorian imagine #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin #the mandolarian #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character

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joel-millerr · 4 years ago

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Choices Are Made in an Instant

Chapter Six of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.1k

Summary: You and Mando help Ahsoka in battle. Then, when you get back to the Crest, he starts acting weird. You couldn't have been prepared for what happens next...

Warnings: SMUT, dom/sub mentions, mild choking, (maybe a bit of edging?) aftercare, graphic depictions of violence, a sprinkle of fluff. mando is possessive af during sexy time

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“What’s the plan, again?” Mando asks you, not because he doesn’t know the plan, but because he wants to make sure you know the plan.

Scowling up at him as you sit on the floor of the Crest, Grogu slowly falling asleep in your lap, you roll your eyes when you see Mando put his hands on his hips like he’s annoyed with you.

“Seriously?”

His head tilts to the side, and then shifts his weight over to one leg. For someone who doesn’t like to talk about their feelings, he sure does wear his emotions on his sleeve. Mando’s body language is a dead giveaway as to what’s going on under that bucket of his.

“Fine. If it’ll make you happy.” You pick the kid up off the ground and hold him in your arm as you explain to Mando—for the third time, what’s going to happen.

“Ahsoka will storm the main gate and engage the guards. You and I are going to walk around the wall and find a way into the village without getting seen. The Magistrate—”

“Morgan Elsbeth.” Mando chimes in.

“Yeah, whatever.” Using your free hand to wave him off because who cares what her name is? “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted—Ahsoka needs some information from Elsbeth so she’s off limits.”

“Good. You remember.”

“You know—”

“Yes?” He probes.

Lips forming a thin line, and realizing he’s just trying to rile you up you shrug it off and bite your tongue, instead opting to put Grogu down inside Mando’s bunk. The Child looks up at you with his big eyes, babbling incoherently. You wiggle your finger in front of him, causing him to giggle excitedly.

“Are you sure he’ll be safe here, alone?” You ask Mando over your shoulder, continuing to play around the kid.

“There’s no one else out here but us, and I’m going to engage the ground security protocols once we leave.” He explains as he fiddles through his armory, gently placing his pulse rifle back on its hook, and reaching over to his jetpack and strapping it to his back. “Nothing will penetrate the Crest.”

It doesn’t do much to ease your anxiety but since Mando seems comfortable with this, then this must be the safest place for him to be. Air exhales through your slightly parted lips as you turn to the armory and grab a vibroblade from Mando’s stock, strapping it to your right thigh. As time ebbs on, the sound of the blood pounding in your ears becomes louder and louder, and you’re unable to stop the steady thumping of your heart against your ribcage. This feeling reminds you of spice running. The rush, the excitement, the worry of not knowing what could happen or if part of the plan could go wrong; it’s something you’ve always chased after.

The plan is almost foolproof, so you shouldn’t worry. Of course, the thought of something going wrong is always there in the back of your mind, but how often do you see a Jedi, a Mandalorian, and a smuggler working together? You’re almost certain this is the first time in the galaxy that this has happened, so how could you fail?

As you make your way to the ramp, you feel a rough leather glove grab hold of your wrist, and turns you around gingerly to face the Mandalorian.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, tone low and husky, and it strokes that part inside of you that forces you to rub your thighs together.

No matter how much time you two can spend being around each other, the moment you’re standing only inches apart—you can’t stop your heart rate from picking up. Your mouth dries up like the sand dunes on Tatooine, and the only thing you can focus on is how fucking intoxicating this man is.

“You can stay here with him.”

His hand is still on your wrist, and you look down to where leather meets your skin. His thumb brushes small, gentle circles on your wrist; an otherwise small token of affection, but taking into consideration that Mando is willingly giving you such a gesture, it makes you heart do cartwheels.

“And miss all the action?” A smile stretches across your face, arching an eyebrow at him. “No way, Mando.”

“What if something goes wrong?”

“Then you’ll need all the help you can get.”

He whispers your name softly and drawls out exhale that cuts up through his vocoder, as if your name is his way of begging you to reconsider. The ‘T’ of his visor stays glaring at you, but it’s damn near impossible to sway you from doing something once you’ve set your mind on it, so no matter how he stares, it won’t make much of a difference. He knows this isn’t a battle he’ll win. Your free hand reaches out, fingertips brushing against his elbow, hoping your touch will help calm his apprehensiveness about you coming along.

“Mando, I’ll be fine. I know you like to worry, but I’ve been in plenty of worse situations and I’m still here.”

Making a noise deep in the back of his throat, he gives you a quick nod and lets go of your wrist. A groan threatens to escape through your lips at the sudden lack of touch, but you manage to keep it under control as he breezes passed you, hearing his boots hit the durasteel ground as he descends the side ramp of the Crest. Taking one last deep breath and looking at Mando’s cot where Grogu is resting, you walk over to the panel by the door, and whisper “We’ll be back soon, kid,” before pressing the button to close the door, watching it come down with a hum. You turn on your heel and march down the ship to meet Mando, who waits patiently for you to join him before using his vambrace to shut the ramp.

You tread towards the village in a comfortable silence. Nightfall is especially unnerving here. The air feels dirty, like dust and ash mixed together, trekking through large gusts of wind as it almost knocks you off your feet. The sky is a dark mossy green, glooming over you, almost like there’s an ominous presence watching the night unfold. Three clicks away from the wall is where you meet Ahsoka. She’s wearing a long robe that aides her in hiding within the shadows, the hood pulled over her montrals, cloaking them from being detected. Her lightsabers, not laser swords like you thought they were called, dangle off her waist. You eye them curiously, wondering how it must feel to wield one of them. The thought makes you chuckle. If you really wanted to know what it felt like to hold such a beautiful weapon in your hand, you just had to find someone to train you, and then you’d be privy to it. A problem for another time, though. Right now, you had more important matters to worry about.

Just as you reach the woodland edge, Ahsoka turns to you and Mando and once again repeats the Magistrate is not to be harmed.

“Save the prisoners,” She reiterates.

Offering her a nod and a smile of reassurance, her hand touches your forearm, squeezing it gently. Mando detaches his right pauldron—the one with his signet engraved and hands it to Ahsoka. It looks like a mudhorn signet. You’re reminded of what Grogu had shown you just a few days ago. Mando battling the ferocious beast, and the Child, watching him on the brink of death, feeling his need to save the Mandalorian.

“We’ll go around the perimeter,” He announces, shooting you a quick look that you acknowledge by dipping your head downwards. “Just make my death believable.”

The corners of Ahsoka’s lips curl upwards. “Don’t worry about that.”

You and Mando break off, choosing to go to her left. Being mindful of where you walk, and making sure not to rise any suspicions by making noise and accidentally stepping on a broken twig, your eyes shift constantly between the ground and the giant wall just a few metres in front of you. Given your experience with sneaking around, you’re basically a master at keeping to the shadows.

Once Mando’s content with the distance you’ve put between yourselves and Ahsoka, he scans the area of lifeforms with his helmet. Beckoning with his hand, he moves forward with you following closely behind him. You crouch over, making yourself seem as small as you head straight for the fortified village.

“We’re going to have to climb it.” He says, realizing the sound of his jetpack would be too loud and alert the guards.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to sneak around,” You jest.

Mando lifts an arm towards the top of the rampart and a grappling line shoots out from his vambrace, flying right over the top of the duracrete wall and latching onto the parapet. Tugging the rope to make sure it’s got enough of a sturdy grip for both of you to scale, he hands you the wire to climb first. Blood pounding in your ears and your heart racing faster than the fathier races on Canto Bight, you take the line from Mando’s hand and pull on it hard enough until your body is leaning backwards.

Your left foot presses against the rampart, making sure to balance yourself properly before your other foot hits the wall, then you begin scaling it. Mounting it quickly, you make it to the top in just under a minute—you can’t help but be impressed with yourself.

Once you climb over the parapet, you crouch down immediately, head whipping to the left then to the right to make sure there aren’t any soldiers in sight. In the distance you hear cries of pain, whooshing, and a loud bang. Ahsoka must have engaged the guards by now.

Taking notice that the coast is clear, you beckon for Mando to join you, and he scales the duracrete wall, beating your time by just a couple of seconds. Show off.

The village is a good… maybe thirty or forty feet drop, and the thought makes you groan. Already you can feel the ache in your legs and knees, but better to get it over with. As you’re about to jump off the wall, Mando’s arm comes flying out across your torso.

“What the hell are you doing?” He whispers through gritted teeth.

Standing there somewhat dumbfounded, your eyebrows pull closely together. “I was going to jump?”

“And break your legs in the process?” He asks rhetorically. Then, without waiting for your answer, he coils the grappling line around his arm that you used to scale the rampart and drops it on the other side of the wall.

“Are you sure you’ve done this before?”

Your eyes dart over to Mando’s eye slit, narrowing them as you watch him climb down just as fast as he came up. When you hear him reach the ground and taking one last look around, you grab onto the line and head down into the village.

The fighting in the distance has stopped, you hope that means Ahsoka’s made it through the barricade of guards. Darting between alleys through the village, you can hear her voice echoing in the distance.

“Your bounty hunters failed.”

Making sure to keep your centre of gravity low as you continue to navigate through the huts, you follow Mando on his heels until you see Ahsoka in your sights. She’s standing just a few metres away from Elsbeth, who has her own platoon of armed soldiers behind her, holding the staff in her hand, alongside the gunslinger Lang.

“Tell me what I want to know.” Ahsoka says, voice calm and stern. “Where is your master?”

Elsbeth stays silent for a few seconds, scowling at Ahsoka, eyes burning into hers, rage all but spilling out of her words. “Kill her.”

Lang takes a step forward, hands gripping his gun fiercely as he says with amusement, “Love to.”

A blast of red shoots out from his gun, narrowly missing her as she jumps onto one of the roofs. Her lightsabers come to life, beams of white whirl around her as she blocks an onslaught of blaster fire. You want to help her, to take down just even one of the guards, and Mando seems to sense your urgency because he grips onto your arm as a warning. You can’t blow your cover, not yet. The guards need to follow Ahsoka and leave the prisoners alone so you and him can free them.

The Magistrate instructs Lang to take her battle droids with her before turning on her heel and stalking back towards her fortress. She orders the remaining two guards by her side to execute the prisoners. Shrieks and cries fill the air as the prisoners start begging for their lives, and then your feet move before your brain takes notice, running straight for the guards before Mando can pull you back into the shadows.

You come up behind the soldiers, just as one aims their gun to one of the men strung up. Your hand flies to your blaster, unholstering it and shooting him right between the shoulder blades. He cries and falls to the ground with a loud thud. The remaining guard pivots towards you, aiming his own rifle at you but is shot down by Mando before he can pull the trigger.

“You were supposed to wait for my signal,” He hisses through the helmet as he appears from behind one of the houses to join you.

“You were taking too damn long.”

“And why the hell is the safety on your blaster not on?”

Narrowing your eyebrows, your mouth opens to answer but you have trouble finding the words. “Uh—is that reallyimportant right now?”

He doesn’t answer, but sighs somewhat angrily. Okay…

In the corner of your vision, you see the elderly man from yesterday emerge from one of the huts. Out of reflex, you catch Mando pointing his blaster at him. The man’s palms fly up in defense and freezes. They exchange a series of glances, ending with Mando placing his blaster back in his holster. They make their way to one of the prisoners, trying to gauge how to free him without hurting him or themselves.

The sounds of gunfire in the background catch your attention. Looking over to Mando and the elderly gentlemen, you really want to go out there and fight.

What if Ahsoka needs backup?

Surely, you should help her, right?

Hands fidgeting at your sides, your body racing on adrenaline and the urge to make these soldiers pay for what they’ve done, you take one last glance over to Mando who instinctively looks back at you. By his body language, you know he understands what you want because he squares his shoulders and takes a tentative step towards you. Shaking his head, slowly but nothing shy of authoritative, basically warning you not to go after her. Giving him a shrug and lips forming a tight line, you whip your body towards the sounds of gun fire and disappear into the shadows.

“Get back here!” Mando’s voice come from the commlink on your wrist as you continue zig zagging through the city, following the sound of gunfire. Ignoring him, you turn the volume down on your commlink until it’s fully muted, as to not draw any attention to yourself. Your body is running entirely on the electricity pumping through your bloodstream right now. Senses heightened to a degree you’ve never experienced before. The wind brushing against your hot cheeks, hearing the thumping of your heart in your ears, you feel everything so much stronger, now. Maybe it’s because you’ve never being in such a gritty battle like this, but it’s so much more intense than any spice run you’ve ever done.

Navigating through the huts and keeping yourself hunched over, you look out for any potential threats, coming up on dead-end after dead-end. You’re running out of time, and need to find Ahsoka now.

A hand touches down on your shoulder, causing you to gasp a little too loudly. Reaching over your chest and gripping the hand tightly, you twist your body around to face them while pulling downwards on their arm, vibroblade flying into your free hand. Relief overcomes you when you see it’s Ahsoka.

“Felt like you were missing out?”

You give her a smile, tucking the blade back into its strap on your thigh, hand clutching your chest as you try to come down from the sudden alarm. “Little bit.”

The moment is short lived when a blast of red gunfire flies by the back of your head, missing you by only inches. Ahsoka wraps her arm around your back, pushing you behind her as her lightsabers come alight once again, using them to dodge and ricochet incoming fire. As she continues to block blasts, a guard emerges from behind you, giving you only a second of time for your blaster to come out of its holster and into your hand, shooting them down with two blasts. Just as his body hits the ground, a second soldier comes right for you from the left. Your free hand shoots up close to your body, palm facing him. Taking a step forward, your arm straightens out and the power of it sends the guard flying backwards, hearing his skull hit the ground with an echoing crack.

You don’t have time to process it, to think about the fact that you’ve just heard that man’s skull split because you propelled him so aggressively into the ground. Turning your body back towards Ahsoka, she continues to fight off blasts, one of them knocking a lightsaber out of her hand and sending it flying through the air, landing just a couple feet behind you. Without even taking a second to think about it, you dash for the lightsaber, gripping it with your hand just as you fall over onto your stomach. A black gloved hand grabs hold of your shoulder, flipping you onto your back. The man crouches down and presses his body into yours, each leg on either side of your body, pinning you to the ground. You wrestle for a few seconds, dodging some punches but ultimately taking a couple hits to your stomach. All of a sudden, a bright white light nearly blinds you—the lightsaber buzzes to life, and then you’re pushing it in your hand through the man’s chest, screaming as it impales him. The sound of flesh sizzling against the lightsaber makes your skin crawl, never before hearing such a foul noise. Maker, even the smell is agonizing. Something you never thought you’d ever experience. You’ve cauterized wounds before, but that was just kissing the skin. This? Fuck, this went through his body, burning his skin, bones, and whatever organs were in the saber’s way. Ego and pride aside, it makes you nauseous. Pushing his limp body off yours and rising to your feet, the smell still lingering in your nostrils, you attempt to shake it out of your mind and wrench your eyes shut for a moment. This isn’t the time to dwell on things.

Feeling the lightsaber in your hand, something in you changes. Everything stills for a moment. All of the insecurities you had about yourself, the feeling of having lost your way, not knowing which path to choose, it all comes together. The answer is around your fingertips, its power clearing your mind of the questions you so desperately wanted the answers to. For the first time in your entire life, you feel at peace, like you finally found your place in the galaxy.

A new power courses through your veins, enabling you to take down enemy after enemy with Ahsoka’s lightsaber. As you battle in between the huts, your eyes meet hers for a brief moment, and it’s almost like she understands how you’re feeling. After cutting down the last guard, your chest is heaving, body shaking as it burns off the adrenaline that was exuding from your body just seconds ago. You head over to where Ahsoka is standing, a pile of bodies surrounding her. Mindful not to step on anyone, you tiptoe around them and hand her her lightsaber.

“And?” She asks, head cocked to the side.

You can’t even find the words. How can you even describe such a feeling? All your anxieties solved in just one moment. Jaw nearly dropping to the floor, you want to say something but the only thing coming from your mouth is a laugh. Ahsoka smiles back, but it quickly disappears, leaving you to look into her eyes, she seems…sad? You want to ask her what’s wrong, but you table it for another time.

As you both make your way back to the main street of the village, she treks along the rampart of Elsbeth’s fortress. Once you clock the second gate ahead of you, Ahsoka leaps onto to the top of the wall, leaving you to meet Mando on the main road. Keeping to the shadows of the little houses around you, you see him standing just a few feet shy of the wall, hand hovering over the blaster strapped to his thigh. Towards the end of the cobblestone street is Lang, hands on his rifle.

No one speaks for a moment; Lang’s eyes shift between Mando and Ahsoka who stands at the top of the rampart. Your body is still shielded in the shadows, gauging Lang’s body language; waiting for the right moment to show yourself. Finally, Ahsoka turns her body and jumps into the Magistrate’s home, leaving you, Mando, and Lang behind.

“So, you threw in with the Jedi.”

Taking a quick look around, and noticing you to his right, he answers Lang, “Looks that way.”

Maker, you’ll never get tired of looking at him. Broad shoulders pushed back so his all-encompassing chest is on full display, practically toying with Lang because he knows they’ve lost, it’s not only intoxicating how much he turns you on, but it’s quite frankly obscene how your pussy gushes at the sight of him. His ability to stay calm, even when he’s seething with anger. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the heat of the moment, but watching Mando in his element, full of gusto and brawn…It’s quite a shock that some people choose to fight a Mandalorian rather than save themselves the trouble and simply surrender.

Sounds of beskar clashing with lightsabers ricochet through the air. Cries from both women pierce your ears. You want to see Ahsoka fight, curious to see how a Jedi battles with a formidable opponent, but you’re too transfixed on Mando right now to tear your eyes away even if for a moment.

“Who do you think’s gonna win?”

Mando doesn’t answer, just stays ever still, his cape flapping in the wind behind him. Lang takes a tentative step forward, and then another, and then another. “Could be your side…” He taunts. “Could be my side.”

He’s getting too close for comfort; you think to yourself. Stepping out from behind one of the homes, you make sure Lang sees you. Squaring your shoulders, you walk over to Mando cautiously, keeping eye contact with Lang the entire time. Once you’re by his side, your arms rest by your thighs, one hand gripping on your blaster.

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think that you were left behind… or dead,” The last word drips from his tongue like venom.

Clamping down hard on your jaw to keep yourself from snapping back, your free hand balls into a fist, white knuckling so aggressively, you’re digging half-moons into your skin.

He takes one more step forward.

“I got no quarrel with you two.”

Another step.

“That’s far enough,” Mando warns, his hand coming up to stop Lang in his tracks.

The Magistrate’s cries blend in with Ahsoka’s. The silence between resonances of weapons colliding become more and more frequent. The fight must be nearing its end.

“You know, we’re a lot more alike than you think.”

What in the kriffing hell is this man talking about? To think that you or Mando could ever be similar to someone like Langmakes you scoff, an empty laugh expelling from the back of your throat.

“All of us, willing to lay out lives for the right cause.” He says orotundly then pauses for a moment, listening to the two women fighting on the other side of the rampart. “Which this is not.”

He can’t honestly think either of you believe him, right?

All of a sudden, you hear the beskar staff hit the ground, bouncing a few times before everything becomes jarringly quiet. Tilting your head slowly in Mando’s direction, his visor keeps to Lang.

“Looks like you guys win.”

Holding out his gun in front of him, he shows you the weapon and ever so slowly places it down on the ground, motioning his surrender. Mando’s hand flexes over the blaster, gauging Lang’s next move. Without skipping a beat, Lang’s hand flies to a blaster at the back of his waist, but before he can even take it out of its holster, Mando’s own gun flies into his hand and shoots him down.

“Did you have your safety on before you shot him down?” You ask sarcastically, darting an eyebrow at him as holsters his weapon.

“Is that really important right now?” He repeats, using that same mocking tone that drives you fucking crazy.

Eyebrows pulling together in a frown and rolling your eyes, you reply, “I hate you,” while also trying to hide the dumbass smile that’s sneaking up on your lips.

The elderly gentlemen, who has apparently been watching you this entire time, emerges from his home. One by one, the villagers come out, stunned that they’re finally free. They cheer and holler, walking over to you both to give their thanks. Seeing the instant smiles on their faces fills you with warmth and pride. All the pain, all the cruelty they were forced to endure is gone. They can live the rest of their lives free of tyranny.

“WATCH OUT!” Someone cries. In a nanosecond, panic sets in, whipping your head in every direction trying to find the threat. Looking at the roofs, there’s the faint silhouette of a battle droid, crawling on one of the homes, its gun aimed right at Mando.

“Mando!” You shout. The droid’s weapon then switches to you, a red beam of light flies from his gun, hitting you right in the shoulder. The force of the hit sends your body flying backwards, landing hard on your back, head smacking the ground hard enough to make you dizzy.

The pain in your shoulder is fucking intense, the smell of sizzling clothes and burnt skin quite literally burning into your nostrils. Hand flying to your shoulder and pressing down on the wound to ease the bleeding and hopefully the pain, you realize your shoulder has been taking quite the hit lately. First the bruise, now a fucking gash.

Mando rushes to your side, holding the back of your head with one hand as he eases you to sit upright.

“Are you okay?” Baritone pulling rough through the helmet, panic sits at the back of his throat. The hand cradling the back of your head travels down to your lower back, the other reaching for your hand that’s keeping pressure on the place where the droid hit you.

Unable to answer, you groan low in your throat and gesture that you’ll be fine with a simple nod of the head. When you finally look over to Mando through hooded lids, the corners of your lips curl upwards in an attempt to prove to him that you’re fine. Folding your legs at the knees and using his forearm to pull you to your feet, he helps you stand up, keeping his hand on the small of your back the entire time.

“Kriff, that hurt.” You groan through jagged breaths. When your hand finally moves away from the injury on your shoulder, you peek down to see just how badly you were hit.

Thankfully, it’s actually not that bad. There is a gash where the blast connected with skin, but the bleeding has stopped significantly, although your tunic and hand are drenched with blood. You could probably cauterize it right away to close up the wound and then put some bacta on it once you get back to the Crest.

Mando’s still holding you. It’s like he’s too scared to let you go, like he needs to protect you and the only way he can think of doing it is to keep holding you. In any other moment, you’d be absolutely loving this, but right now? His body heat mixed with the fervor and throbbing from the gash near your clavicle is making you burn up. It’s when you finally take a step forward that his arm falls back to his side, fist balling up like he’s fighting the urge to keep you in his reach.

“The droid dead?” You manage to say through winces of pain, hunching over.

“Yeah.” He says breathlessly.

“Okay, good.”

As more and more villagers approach you both, they continue to give you their appreciation and continuously asking if there’s anything they can do to thank you. An elderly woman even retreats back to her home and comes out just a few minutes later with a medpac for your gash. Initially, you reject her kind offer, insisting that you can wait till you’re back on the ship for your wound to be taken care of, but after she continue to argue that you should accept a bit of help, you take it graciously. They seat you down on one of the cobblestoned steps, and begin wiping away at the dried blood, trying to be mindful not to touch the actual wound.

“We can’t thank you enough,” She says kindly.

“You’re—ah shit—” You try to thank her, but despite her best efforts, you’re still in quite a tremendous amount of pain. “Sorry. It’s our pleasure, really.”

Once she’s done cleaning up the blood, you look down at your shoulder to see that the wound isn’t even as big as you initially thought. The blood splattered around your shoulder had made it seem much worse than it actually was. It’s barely the size of a Calamari Flan coin. It’ll definitely scar, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

“Your husband doesn’t ever take his helmet off?” She asks, trying to keep you distracted as she begins to spray bacta on it.

Completely taken aback by the word ‘husband’, you blurt out a laugh. “Husband? Oh no, he’s not my husband. We’re just…” Your voice trails off because in truth, you have no idea what your relationship to Mando is anymore. It doesn’t seem appropriate to say that you two are friends because your relationship has certainly developed passed that, but to go so far as to say you’re…together doesn’t really seem to fit your situation either.

“Oh, my apologies.” Shaking her head like she’s embarrassed by assuming the nature of your relationship, you place a hand over hers and smile.

“It’s okay. No need to apologize.”

“I just assumed that because of the way he was so concerned for your health after getting shot by that droid…”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you mull over how Mando held onto you for a lot longer than he needed to when you finally got to your feet. How he stood so close to you, even when you assured him you were okay. How he still looks over to you every couple of minutes while he talks to Ahsoka, like he needs to watch over you.

You watch as Ahsoka hands the staff over to Mando, who seems to hesitate to accept it at first, but is eventually persuaded to take it. He takes a moment to speak into his commlink, your wrist comes alive to the sound of his voice.

“I’ll be back in a moment. Will you be okay here, alone?”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, and you attempt to hide it by biting down on your lip. Bringing your wrist up to your lips, you press on the talking button on the comm, “Yes, I’ll be fine, Mando.”

As Mando disappears into the forest, Ahsoka makes her way over to you, just as the elder is finished addressing your wound. She’s put a bacta patch on your laceration now, its cooling sensation untensing your muscles and relaxing you almost instantly.

“Thank you.”

She grabs your hand with both of hers, giving you a gentle squeeze before letting you go, and hobbling back over to her home.

The city is full of life now, residents cheering and conversating. The children are running around, laughing and shouting with joy, even kicking a ball around the main cobblestoned road. It’s such a stark contrast from the city you and Mando had entered just two days ago.

Pushing yourself up to your feet, you pat the dust and dirt off your pants and face Ahsoka.

“How the shoulder?” She asks.

“I’ll be fine. It was barely a scratch.” You joke. She laughs in response. The first moment of genuine happiness you’ve seen on her face since you two met.

You both begin to take a leisure stroll through the village, noting how different the villagers seem now the Magistrate is gone. It’s such a fulfilling moment for you. For most of your life, you’ve behaved selfishly, usually only caring about yourself and doing whatever was in ever was in your own self-interest, and now you’ve just helped hundreds of people. You don’t want to put yourself on a pedestal, but if you’re being entirely transparent, you’re pretty proud of the change that’s happening to you. This? You could get used to this.

“If I did want to train…”

Ahsoka turns her head to face you once you address her. “Yes?”

“Like…How would I go about doing that?”

She stops walking, looking down at the ground. “You need to learn to control your emotions before you can even think of training. You’re pretty reckless.” Her voice stays kind, but she’s very much warning you of the difficult road ahead if you choose to go down this path. “I worry that your own attachment to the Mandalorian will be your undoing.”

You could argue with her, you could say that there is no such attachment, but if you were to be completely honest with yourself, you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t something there. It’s almost unbelievable to come to terms with the fact that you’ve developed some kind of connection with him, especially when you used to pride yourself on the idea that you had transformed into the type of person that did not become invested in someone else but Mando is different. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met.

He’s full of mystery. An enigma that you could learn about every day for the rest of your life and never even scratch the surface. Mando can be cold and callous in one moment, then tender and kind in the next. It quite literally makes your head spin. He can be so distant, and then all of a sudden, he can’t bear to be away from you. The inability to know what he’s thinking or what he wants just reels you in even more. You want to know everything about him, to feel like you’re a part of him, that you’re more than just someone passing through his life.

“Surely, the two can coexist?”

Ahsoka doesn’t respond right away. Her eyes leave you to look up at the sky, as if searching the clouds for help. “Asking that question just proves that you aren’t ready to train. Attachments clouds the ability to see reason. If you let your attachments control you, you can never act solely based on the good for all. You’ll always put your loved ones first, and that’s something the Jedi do not do.”

Your lips press into a thin line.

“If you want this, you have to realize what you’ll be giving up. What you’ll end up denying yourself later on.” Her voice is almost a whisper. “There will come a time when you’ll need to make a choice. To embrace the way of the Jedi, or walk away forever.”

“It’s just…” You begin shifting, pacing around as the words come to you. “Ahsoka, the darkness I feel inside me? It scares me, like I’m never actually in control of it.”

“The Dark Side is powerful. It’s something you’ll fight your entire life as a Jedi, but it’ll become easier to deal with as the training progresses.”

“When I held your lightsaber…” Voice trailing off, you let out a small chuckle. Her lips curl into a smile, she knows the feeling all too well.

“I know.”

As you both stand at the gates of the village, the newly appointed Magistrate—the old man that aided Mando in rescuing the hostages, approaches you both, smiling from ear to ear.

“Thank you again for saving the village.” His eyes are kind, the wrinkles on his forehead giving you an insight as to the many years of injustices and struggles he’s had to face, as well as the hope he’s held that his people would one day be free once again.

Dipping your head downward, he grabs your hand in his, shaking it twice before turning to Ahsoka. “The New Republic will be here soon for Ms. Elsbeth. If there’s anything else you’d like to question her about, now would be the time.”

“Mando should be here by now…” You remark, noticing that it’s been too long since he left.

Ahsoka nods in agreement. “Go. I’ll catch up with you.” She doesn’t wait for your response before following the Magistrate back into the city walls.

During the walk back to the Crest, you continue to go over everything Ahsoka’s told you over the last two days, weighting out your options. You’re not like Mando. You’re not a Mandalorian, nor are you a bounty hunter, so naturally you couldn’t expect to stick with Mando once you get all of this figured out. Going back to spice seems irresponsible, given that you know you were destined for something better. Moreover, now that you know why you’re different, it would see inappropriate to ignore that side of you and continue to live a life where your powers were wasted. Maybe this is something you could discuss with Mando. Maybe he’ll offer a different view that you hadn’t thought of before.

When you catch sight of the Crest, you suddenly feel a bit nervous, almost shy. You can hear the pounding of your heart in your ears as you near the ship, and clutch your chest with your hands when you see what’s happening inside the ship.

Mando’s sitting by his cot, one leg resting on the edge of the bed, Grogu seated on his thigh, and speaking gently to him. Even if you tried not to get sentimental about it, you’d never get tired of seeing how endearing Mando is with the Child. Every moment is more precious than the last, warming your heart and making you fall for the Mandalorian even more. You know he doesn’t need it, but you want to protect them both—to keep them both safe from anyone who would ever try to harm them, and on some level, you think Mando would do the same.

“Hey,” You announce as you get closer to the edge of the ramp, making your presence known so that he hopefully doesn’t think you spent the last minute gawking at them during their little intimate moment.

As you approach them, Mando rises to his feet and walks over to you, holding Grogu with both arms. “How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Much better. The bacta really helped,” You answer, keeping your voice low as to not wake him. Grogu’s eyes flutter open, head tilting to the side when he sees you.

“Hi, little guy.” Your index finger gently boops him on the nose, causing him to giggle in Mando’s arms. Although you don’t know for sure, you have an inclination that Mando’s watching you, and when you look up away from Grogu, sure enough the eye slit in his helmet is pointed at you.

“You’re like a father to him.”

Your turn your body around and see Ahsoka standing at the end of the ship, arms crossed against her chest. Mando heads down the ramp first, and you follow closely behind him.

“I cannot train him.” She says, a bit of disappointment hidden in her voice.

“We had a deal, and we held up our end.”

Letting out a deep breath, Ahsoka takes a step towards Mando and takes Grogu’s little hand in hers, rubbing her thumb across his tiny claws.

“There is one possibility.”

“We’re all ears,” You reply.

“Have you heard of the planet Tython?”

“No.” Mando answers dryly.

“It has a strong connection to the Force. There you will find the ancient ruins of a Temple atop one of the mountains. Place Grogu on the seeing stone and wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For Grogu to choose his path. If he reaches out through the Force, there is a chance that a Jedi might sense him and come searching for him.” She looks down at the ground for a moment, before pulling her eyes away from the dirt to look at you. “Then again, there aren’t many Jedi left.”

“Thank you.” He answers sincerely, then turns on his heel and heads back into the Crest.

You take a step towards Ahsoka and wrap your arms around her, giving her a gentle squeeze before pulling again. “I hope our paths cross again.”

“This will not only be a test for Grogu, but for you as well. You will need to make a choice.”

“I know…”

Her head dips down, offering you a farewell smile. “May the Force be with you.”

Heading back into the ship and closing the ramp, you hear the Crest’s thrusters come to life, finally feeling like you now have a purpose.

“Do we have enough fuel to make to it to Tython?”

“We’ll have enough to get there, but not enough to leave. We’ll have to make a stop beforehand to refuel.”

Mando punches in some coordinates and activates the hyperdrive. You look out through the transparisteel and watch the stars change from small specks in space to giant rays of light as you beam passed them, and then cockpit is surrounded by waves of baby blues similar to the waters on Naboo.

“Hey, where are we headed?” You ask once Mando rises from the pilot’s chair.

“You ever been to Coruscant?”

Fuck. “There’s nowhere else we can go?”

He walks over to where you’re still seated. At this angle, your eyeline is pointing right at…that. Trying to look anywhere but there, you opt to tilt your head at high as it can go so you can look at Mando in the ‘T’ of his visor. Maker, don’t you dare even peak down there.

“Is there a problem with going there?” He asks in jest, head tilting ever so slowly to the side. When you don’t immediately answer, he takes an excruciatingly slow step forward. He’s now almost touching your knees with his, making it even more difficult not to look down and catch sight of his—kriff, pull yourself together!

“No—” You squeak, your voice embarrassingly high. “I mean,” Clearing your throat in an effort for it to go back down to its normal octave. “No, that’s fine.”

Mando hums smugly in his helmet before disappearing through the cockpit door and descending down the ladder.

Uh… what the hell was that about? Was Mando acting…coy? No, surely you were misreading things. He’s not like that. He doesn’t joke around or act smug…right?

Sleep.

You should get some sleep.

Shifting around in your unbearably uncomfortable chair until you’re in a somewhat comfortable position—which is just you sitting upright in the chair with your leg crossed over the other, you fold your arms across your lap and close your eyes, hoping it won’t take long for you to fall asleep.

You can hear a light scuffle in the hull, and you try to ignore it, but now that you’re aware of the sound, it’s impossible for you to ignore it and try to get some sleep. All you can focus on is trying to ignore the sound which just makes the noise that much louder. Letting out a groan in annoyance, you move around even more in your seat hoping you’ll be able to find some kind of position that’s more comfortable, but to no avail.

Not only is the noise annoy the hell out of you, but you’re completely hung up on your interaction with Mando just a few moments ago. He usually doesn’t get that close to you unless he thinks you’ve been injured, but there he was, willingly getting closer and closer. Actually, it seemed like he was enjoying watching you squirm and get frazzled by how close he was to you.

Just when the sound stops, you hear heavy boots hit the metal rungs of the ladder. Great, he’s coming back.

You sense Mando reach the top of the ladder before you see him. Although, he doesn’t directly step into the cockpit. After a couple seconds of still not seeing him, you look over your shoulder to see where he might be, but you end up craning your neck to an uncomfortable amount and still no sight of him.

Fuck it. You jump to your feet and face the door to the cockpit, and see him standing like a goddamn statue. He’s still in full armour, but you definitely notice something different about him. His fists are balled up together at his sides, black eye slit pointed directly at you, and by the way his shoulders rise and fall, his breathing is uneven. As your eyes travel downwards from his helmet down to his feet, you can’t help but notice the bulge in his pants. Shit.

Your mouth instantly goes dry, your own heartrate picking up slowly, heating pooling in your belly. This isn’t the first time you’ve both been in this exact situation. It happened before on Sorgan, but somehow this is a hundred times more intense. Maybe it’s because of the rush from today, maybe it’s because you’ve tasted him before, but whatever was on your mind right before this moment is totally gone.

Right now, you can feel the blood pounding in your ears, you can feel the fucking heat radiating off Mando, your panties sticking to you like glue because of your slick, causing your pussy to fucking throb.

You want to say something snarky, but words are something you’re not even able to come up with, you’re so fucking spellbound by him that nothing in this galaxy could pull you away. He’s got you entirely wrapped around his leather finger and he hasn’t even said a word to you.

A broken moan forms at the back of Mando’s throat, coming out rough and distorted. It reminds you of his sobs the night his cock was wrapped around your lips. You want to run to him, feel his big arms pull you closer to him, but you need to know he wants this as badly as you do, so you wait. You wait for him to speak, to make the first move.

“I—” His voice is barely above a whisper, like he’s struggling to find the words.

“Tell me what you want, Mando.” You say breathlessly.

He takes a step towards you, and your breath catches in your throat. His own chest is heaving, his quick breaths cutting through his helmet. “Fuck.”

Realizing how hard this must be for him—admitting how he feels, you step closer to him. Now, you’re just arm’s length away. If one of you reached out, you’d touch the other and it’s becoming more difficult with every second that goes by not to jump into his arms, rip that helmet off his face and kiss every inch of his skin, but you won’t. You would never touch him in a way that would compromise his creed.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about bending you over that control panel and fucking you until you begged me to stop?” He nearly growls. Voice so rough and low, you can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips.

Your pussy gushes in response. “Maker…”

He inches closer to you, taking his sweet, agonizing time as he continues to taunt you. “I’ve thought about it ever since I picked you up on Kijimi.”

Another inch.

“I thought about it in the alley with my hand touching your drenched, sweet cunt.”

Another inch.

“I thought about pulling you off my cock and pounding into you right against that wall.”

The heat coiling in your stomach is so fucking intense, you can feel it all over your body. Your heart is thumping against your ribcage, jaw slacked so you can breathe in quick little bursts of air. He’s standing merely inches away from you, and you want to reach out and touch him. You want him inside you, but you’re frozen, unable to move. Unable to break free from the trance he’s put you in. All you can do is stand there helplessly as he continues to torture you with his confessions.

“But I was able to control myself.” He grits out, head tilting ever so slowly to the side.

“Mmm…” Is all you can say. Your mind is on fire, your body’s on fire. Everything’s fucking on fire.

“I don’t think I can control myself anymore.”

Only one word comes to mind now. Once you say it, your relationship to the Mandalorian will never be the same. It’ll definitely make it harder to choose between Mando and following the way of the Jedi but quite frankly, right now, you really don’t give a shit. You want this. You want Mando, and nothing is going to come between you and him. “Good.”

Finally, he closes the tiny gap between your bodies and wraps a big arm around the small of your back, spinning you around and pushing you up against the door to the cockpit. You yelp at his swiftness when you feel metal hit your back, but it’s still not fast enough.

You want more.

You need more.

“Mando…” You moan helplessly.

The shakiness of his breath, kriff, you really want to drop to your knees and make him feel so good. His hands try to touch every part of you. They settle on your waist and he flips you around. Your face nearly smacks into the door but you’re able to catch yourself before your cheek makes contact, hands bracing up against the wall. He grinds his hips into yours, and you feel the outline of his cock nuzzle against your backside.

“If I’m too rough…” He begins to say, but you cut him off before he can finish his sentence. “I’m not fragile, Mando. Do what you want with me.”

“Fuck,” He punches out, fist hitting the door in front of you. “Y-you can’t say things like that to me.”

“I want you to,” You make sure to drawl out your words, to make sure he really hears you, so that he knows you want this just as badly as he does.

The sound that comes next is almost animalistic. It’s somewhere between a cry and a snarl, but it’s the sweetest, most arousing sound you’ve ever heard. It’ll be something you replay over and over in your mind.

His hands travel down to your hips, grabbing onto the waistband of your pants and yanking them down in one swift motion. A brown leather glove flies to your throat, using his thumb and index finger to press on that sweet spot right under your jawline. You sob brokenly as he continues to apply more pressure on your neck, but still gentle enough for you to know he’ll never actually hurt you.

“M-Ma-n-ndo…” You manage to choke out.

Mando hums in the back of his throat, pressing his body into you even more. His cock is rock hard in his pants, and your hands leave the wall to fumble around behind you, trying to touch him. With his free hand, he grabs hold of both your wrists and holds them in place behind you. “Let me take care you, pretty girl.” He purrs, his baritone dangerously low.

When his hand leaves your throat, you whine at the sudden lack of pressure. Cupping your jaw, he drags his thumb across your bottom lip, your tongue darts out and tastes leather. Two fingers force themselves into your mouth, and Mando growls into your ear. “Bite.”

You obey like the good girl you are, biting and tugging on the glove until it comes right off his hand. He takes it from you and tosses it on the ground, revealing his beautifully tanned skin. It’s a little embarrassing how just the sight of his hand makes your pussy pulse, but everything about Mando draws you in. His smell, his stoic demeanor, even his fucking hand.

As his naked hand travels back down your body, fingertips barely touching your tunic, it’s driving you crazy. He’s taking his sweet ass time, reveling in the fact that he has you completely spell bound against him. You can’t move, you can’t shift under him and create more friction for yourself. No, you’re going at his pace, which is making you fucking dizzy.

When his hand reaches the edge of your underwear, sending shivers down straight to your throbbing cunt, your body is basically shaking from the lack and overwhelming amount of stimulation all at once. It’s too much, yet it’s nowhere near enough. A thumb begins to trace the skin around the waistband of your underwear, tantalizing you. Your broken sobs echo through the cockpit, and then in a second, his hand pushes passed the thin material and cups your sex.

“Fuck!” You cry out.

“Look how wet you are, and I’ve barely touched you,” He whispers.

Pushing your ass out and rubbing against his cock, you feel him twitch in his pants as you continue to tease him. The hand on your cunt disappears and wraps itself around your throat again, pressing into your flesh just enough for you to stop grinding your hips. When Mando speaks next, he growls through gritted teeth. “Do that again, and I’m stopping. Do you understand?”

Your throat is dangerously dry, and all you can do is moan in response.

“No, pretty girl. I need you to use your words. Do you understand?” He says again, this time in a much gentler tone, but without relinquishing any of his control over you.

“Yes,” You whisper breathlessly.

“Good girl,” He praises, and then his hand is back on your pussy. His fingers rub between your folds, sending shockwaves through your body as he starts collecting your slick on his calloused fingertips, and then he’s rubbing tight, quick circles around your clit. You mewl helplessly into the door, forehead pressed against door with such force, it’s actually starting to hurt, but in the best way possible. You wouldn’t dare move from the spot you’re in right now, not when Mando continues his agonizingly slow assault on your bud.

“I’m going to let go of your wrists now,” He begins to instruct, his head resting on your left shoulder. “And you’re going to be a good girl and keep them there, right?”

Your orgasm begins to build in your stomach, the rhythm on your clit never faltering. “Y-y-yes,” You answer, voice hoarse and barely audible.

Letting go of your wrists, you do as you were told and keep them behind you on the small of your back. You hear him fumble with his utility belt and pants. Panting and having to manually control your breathing because air just isn’t fucking coming into your lungs fast enough, your body starts to shake from the white-hot pleasure, causing your hands to clench violently. Mando thrusts his body against you once again, almost flattening you on the door, but now you feel his free cock pressing between your ass, feeling drops of precome graze your skin.

His hand drenched in your slick, you’re on the verge of coming. Breathing picking up even more, he must sense you’re close because his rhythm gets quicker and quicker, nearly pushing you over the edge.

“I’m g-gonna c-come, Mando.”

“Already? Hmm,” He hums proudly. A gloved hand comes up to your throat, using his thumb and index to choke you again. The pressure on your throat and cunt is making your head fucking spin. It’s too much all at once, your orgasm teetering right now. This is so much more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced.

“Come for me,” He commands gently in your ear.

Head lulling back, your knees are about to give out, but he never stops. He develops a pattern now, rubbing even tighter circles on your clit and then brushing his fingers through your soaking folds, then back to your bud.

“Fuck fuck, fuck, Mando!” You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, sending waves of ecstasy through your entire body. He doesn’t stop though. As you cry out, riding out your climax, he slams his gloved hand over your mouth, muffling your cries; still continuing his pace between your thighs. Practically convulsing from the overstimulation, your knees almost completely cave in, and you almost feel your body going limp, but Mando keeps you steady.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He praises.

You don’t even have time to come down from your climax before he’s thrusting a thick finger allll the way inside of you. Flexing it in and out of your pussy and body trembling, if you don’t grab onto something, you’re sure you’ll drop to the ground. Broken sobs stifled by leather, feeling the corners of your eyes getting wet with tears, your mind is going fucking blank. Maker, the Mandalorian is going to be the death of you.

Pushing a second finger into you, your eyes wrench shut. He eases them in and out of you at a deliciously slow rate, sometimes choosing to roll his fingers inside you before pulling out. One of your hands grabs onto his vambrace, using that as a means of staying upright because you’re hanging on by a thread right now. This is the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced. No one has ever even come close to making you feel the way Mando is, and you’ll never be able to be with anyone else after this. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, but you’re literally coming apart under him. He pushes two gloved fingers inside your mouth and orders you to bite down again. You do as your told and his hand yanks free of the glove, tossing it to the ground like he did with the other glove.

His precome continues to paint your back and backside, and you start begging and pleading.

“Please, Mando…”

“Please what?” He asks, and then he’s fucking curling his fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars. You cry out again, feeling a second orgasm bubbling to the surface.

“Please, f-fuc-c-k me. Please, Mando I need you inside me.”

“Mmmm,” He drones deep in his throat. Flexing his fingers inside you once more time before pulling out, you feel suddenly empty.

Need more.

Using the slick he’s gathered on his hand, you look over your shoulder and can barely make out him smearing it all over his thick length. “Gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl. Gonna fill you up, and fuck that pretty cunt of yours until you can’t fucking walk.”

All you can do is mewl back, a broken sound that he barely notices. Mando grabs hold of the waistband of your underwear and pulls them down to your knees. One hand digging into your waist, the other holding his length, he starts to rub his cock between your sopping folds, gathering even more slick. Once he seems satisfied hearing your broken sobs, he angles himself to your entrance, and pushes just the tip into you.

Kriff, you’re not even sure if you’ll be able to take all of him.

He stills for a moment, and then he’s back to pushing himself against your cunt.

Fucking unbelievable.

Mando’s teasing you, getting off on the sweet torture he’s putting you through. Every time you think he’s about to fill you up, he pulls away and continues to toy with you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but then pulling away at the last second.

“Mando!” You whimper.

“Shhh…” He scolds, giving you gentle slap on your left buttcheek. “I want to take my time.”

He continues his gradual onslaught, and then finally, he’s lining up his cock with your pussy, and ever so slooowly eases an inch of himself in your entrance.

Maker, he’s huge. Even with just an inch inside of you, he fills you up, your walls clamping around him in an attempt to stop him from pulling away again. “Fuuck.” He drawls out through shuddered breaths. “You’re tight, pretty girl.”

You don’t answer because you can’t. Words are no longer a thing inside your mind. Just Mando.

“You’re mine.” He snarls, pushing another inch of himself inside you.

Something like a sob escapes your lips.

“No one else will ever get to touch you like this.”

Another painful inch. You can feel the veins around his girth pushing against your walls.

“I’ll kill anyone who comes close to you, do you understand me?” Mando doesn’t wait for an answer, just continues to push himself more and more into your pulsating cunt. He must be almost fully inside you now. It burns, almost painful. It’s uncomfortable but it’s so fucking good, it feels so fucking amazing to be filled up by the Mandalorian. A delicious pain you’ll be thinking about for days.

With both hands on your hips, he seems to lose control for a second because the next thing you know, he stills for a moment, his helmet dropping to rest in between your shoulders, and then he’s grinding even more of himself into you. Kriff, how fucking big is he?

When Mando finally fucking pounds into you, hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision go blank, you scream out, feeling completely stuffed to the brim. “Fuck!”

He’s so much bigger than you thought. Your walls flex around him, your pussy is on fucking fire right now, pain and pleasure mixed together to form a delicious cocktail, you’re drunk on this feeling. Mando widens his stance to steady himself, and pulls out just enough for only the tip of his head touching your walls and then slams into you so hard, your entire body flattens against the door, his cuirass digging into your back.

“Ah shit!” He swears breathlessly. Mando’s barely began fucking you, and a second orgasm is seconds away from unleashing electricity through your entire core.

“I can feel you clenching around my cock, sweet girl. Are you going to come again?” He taunts deliciously, pulling out once more and snapping back into you with such force, it blinds you momentarily. Bending your knees and using one his hands to push down on your back so you’re arched with your ass out—almost sitting back on his cock, he wraps a hand around your throat and begins pounding into you like an animal. The sound of skin slapping skin pierces through the cockpit, you can’t even make a sound. Your pussy clenches once again, climax nearing.

Two rough fingers find their way to your clit, and rub tight circles on your bud, the sounds of his length thrusting in and out of you are downright obscene.

“Be a good girl and come for me again,” He orders, voice so deliciously low in your ear. You last only a couple more seconds before a second orgasm rips right into you. White-hot pleasure tears through you, the ecstasy so intense, tears are streaming down your face at a constant rate. He doesn’t relent, just continues to plow into you over and over and over again.

“Fu-ck, you feel so fucking good. I’m g-gonna, shit, I’m gonna c-come.” He pants, his rhythm beginning to falter as he approaches his own climax. “Wh-ere should I…?”

“Inside…please.” You choke out.

“Kriff, are, a-are you sure?” He punches out, thrusting deeper into you between each word.

“Im—implant,” Is all you can manage to say, but it seems to be enough for Mando, because he uses the remaining strength he has to pound into you a few more times before his own orgasm hits him.

“F-fuck, pretty girl.” He grits out as his cock starts pumping his seed into your worn-out, swollen cunt. He sheathes himself one more time, reaching that sweet spot inside you before ever so slowly starting to ease out of you. Being the brat you are, using all the strength you can muster—which isn’t very much right now, you fiercely clench around his cock, causing Mando to cry out in the back of his throat.

“Maker, you don’t want me to leave, do you?” He says, shuddering but ending with a soft chuckle. “Well go on then, squeeze out every bit of come out of my cock like a good fucking girl.”

And so you do. You continue to squeeze down on his length, milking every single drop of his seed until you feel it trinkle down your legs. As soon as his hands leave your body, your knees cave in and you double over, nearly falling right on the cold metal floor, but Mando manages to wrap an arm around your waist before you do, holding you upright. Lifting you off your feet, he pulls you close to his chest, hooking his arms under your legs and around your back. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean your cheek against his cuirass. Beskar cools the heat on your face, and you swear you could fall asleep right now in his arms. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, nostrils filling up with the smell of sex and gunpowder, your eye flutter shut, feeling the exhaustion hit you all at once.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet.” Baritone low and gentle. “We need to get you cleaned up first.”

“Mmm,” You mumble in protest. “ ‘M gonna sleep here.”

“Hey,” He repeats, this time more commanding. “You’ll need to climb down the ladder, can you do that?”

Pouting and wanting to resist, but knowing Mando won’t take no for an answer, you give in. “Fine,” You answer, petulantly.

He puts you down gently, making sure that when your feet touch the ground, you’re able to stand up straight on your own. He pulls your underwear and pants back up from your knees. His come mixed with yours sticks to your underwear, and you hate to admit it, but he’s right. You definitely need to clean yourself up before falling asleep. Legs still buckling, Mando opens the cockpit doors and heads down the ladder first.

“Okay, come down.” He whispers kindly.

Kriff, your whole body is shaking. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to make it down those stairs without falling back. As you begin to descend the ladder, your grip on the rung loosens and you slip. Thankfully, Mando’s waiting at the bottom of the ladder and catches you in his arms before you could hurt yourself. Leaning on his pauldron is the only way you’re able to stand up, so you continue to lean into him as he guides you over to the fresher.

“Will you be able to clean yourself up?”

Looking up at the visor through hooded lids, you nod your head slowly. The possibility of you falling asleep in the fresher is very real, but you could try not to…

“Dank farrik…” He swears to himself. Mulling over his options with your half-asleep body leaning into him, he must realize there’s only one option available. “You’ll have to keep your eyes closed the entire time, okay?”

You look up at him sheepishly. “Okay.”

“I mean it,” He repeats. “You can’t—”

“I won’t look, Mando. You can trust me.”

A drawn-out sigh emits from the helmet, but he seems to be satisfied enough with your comment. Keeping yourself steady by holding down on his pauldrons, you watch as he carefully begins to remove your pants and underwear, gently telling you to step out of them and tossing them to the side.

“Lift your arms,”

He pulls your tunic over your head, and even though you’re absolutely wrecked and exhausted, being completely naked in front of the Mandalorian while he stands there, fully clothed and wearing his armour, you begin to feel a bit self-conscious, and try to cover up your body with your hands and arms.

“What…are you doing?” He asks, head tilting to the side.

“Feel so exposed,” You mutter.

“Now you feel exposed? Not when my cock was inside you?” He jests.

“Mmm, that was before.”

Mando sighs once again, the sound breaking apart like static through his helmet. “Get in the fresher, I’ll be there soon.”

“M’okay.”

Turning around sleepily, you head into the refresher and turn the water on. Kriff, it feels good. Standing directly under the hose, you let the water cascade down your body, closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth that tickles your skin.

“Okay, eyes closed,” Mando says, voice no longer modulated by his helmet. Maker, his voice is heavenly. Curse the helmet he wears, covering up a sound as sweet as Mando’s voice. Smooth like silk, you wish you could listen to him for hours, undistorted and naked. Keeping your promise, your eyes wrench shut, palms coming out trying to find him in the small space you’re both sharing. You feel his hands meet yours, your own feels so small in his. Calloused fingers trail up your arm, causing goosebumps to form on your skin and you purr into him.

And then, he’s gently massaging the bar of soap across your body, ridding your body of the grime and sweat from the day. It’s ridiculously intimate, and it’s actually quite surprising how gentle he’s handling you, given the fact that he kills people with those same hands, but it’s incredibly endearing. The entire time he cleans you up, your hands are resting on his broad shoulders. Suddenly, you feel him get closer to you, and you’re forced to back up, feeling the wall touch your bare back. Mando leans forward and presses his forehead against yours. You need to crane your head upwards to meet his, but it’s not uncomfortable. This is probably the first time his face has been touched by another being since…well you’re not sure when because you’ve never actually asked him when the last time he took his helmet off was, but you assume it’s been years.

“When’s the last time you took off your helmet in front of another person?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, not only because your vocal cords are shot from all the obscene noises you made before, but also because you’re scared that if you speak too loudly, he’ll dismiss your question.

“I was just a child.”

“You don’t ever want to show your face?”

The water trinkles over both your faces and bodies, hands carded together.

“This is the Way.” He answers plainly, but you sense a bit of uncertainty in the way he speaks. It’s almost like he’s lost the true reason for covering his face—that there came a time in his life where he began to question his Creed, but still feels like he has an obligation to adhere to it.

You want to see his face. There are so many questions that you wish you had the answers to.

Do the corners of his eyes wrinkle when he laughs?

Does he have any scars or dimples?

Have the many years of fighting and surviving aged his face beyond his actual age?

What color are his eyes?

You’re not sure if you’ll ever know the answers to those questions, but truthfully, it doesn’t really matter. You don’t need to know all those aspects of him because they’re simply just arbitrary details. Everything that you really need to know, you’re already aware of.

And what you know is, you’re in love with a Mandalorian.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x reader #mando x you #reader insert #the mandalorian smut #we are one when together #fics

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zenlesszonezero · 5 days ago

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You feelin' fired up now? Make way for the undefeated Champion! Welcome to New Eridu!— PS5™/iOS/Android/PC | Version 1.3 "Virtual Revenge" of Zenless Zone Zero, HoYoverse's urban fantasy ARPG, is out now

#zzzero #zenless zone zero #lighter #gaming #anime gaming

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fettsvette · 3 years ago

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Under the Crimson Moon

You have your period and feel gross. Boba Fett wants to fuck. A little blood never stopped the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy from doing his job, and doing it damn well.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader Words: 7.2k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Menstruation/blood kink, penetrative sex

Can be found on Archive of Our Own here.

Mando’a terminology:

cyar’ika - Mando’a term of affection meaning sweetheart, darling, beloved

“If I want you to do something, girl

We both know that you will

I’m a dirty old man with a dirty set of dreams

Take off that dress if you wanna keep it clean...”

‘Up in Them Guts,’ Brendan Kelly and the Wandering Birds

You hadn’t known he was coming until he’d actually arrived.

One minute, you had been in a deep sleep, wrapped in the warm blankets that shrouded the king-sized bed, and then suddenly, you were wide awake. Because you’d heard it, and you knew in your heart of hearts that it hadn’t been the lasting echo of a dream.

The sound of heavy bootsteps and the unmistakable jangle of spurs echoed in the crisp night air, emanating down the hall towards your bedroom doorway.

You sat up quickly, blood roaring in your ears and your heart pounding wildly in your chest, and your head snapped towards the entryway, illuminated only by the moonlight flooding in through the bay window.

And there he was, stepping out of the deep midnight shadows with that slow, methodical walk that seemed to encompass his very being: Boba Fett, the greatest and most feared bounty hunter to ever live.

And your lover.

If you didn’t know better, you would’ve sworn he was a statue of some ancient warrior, carved from marble and brought to life by a warlock’s spell. The way he stood unmoving and ramrod straight, just staring at you, always sent a thrill down your spine, his expression unreadable behind the darkened, T-shaped visor of his helmet.

But still you groaned - not out of arousal, the expected reaction to the presence of the imposing yet entirely irresistible man who was currently gazing at you - but out of annoyance. You squeezed your eyes shut, almost willing him to disappear, to take the hint, by the time you opened them again.

His timing couldn’t have been worse.

“Boba, please go away ... ” You grumbled pathetically under your breath, cracking an eye open to look up at the silent figure clad in dark green armor, looking at you expectantly. You heard him let out a sharp hiss under the helmet, and he gave a start, his head snapping downwards, and you just knew he was glaring at you murderously. You had no idea how he’d heard you from all the way across the room, but he had.

“ Oh ? What’s that , girly? You don’t like me anymore?” He stalked forward slowly, and the question came not with a teasing edge nor with an air of apprehension, but with an icy lilt to it. It chilled your blood, and it occurred to you that you may have just made a huge mistake in telling Boba Fett himself to fuck off. As much as you enjoyed the sexual satisfaction you got from these illicit romps with one of the most dangerous men in the known universe, the confident realization that he could potentially grow angry or bored enough to dispose of you at any time without even batting an eye absolutely terrified you. He was a bounty hunter, after all. At the same time, though, that same fear excited you beyond the wildest depths of your imagination. He’d shown you time and time again just how deadly he could be, and yet you had never turned away when you’d had the chance. And there had been plenty of those times.

“ No ! Boba, no. I - I s-still like you. Of c-course I still like you. But…” You began, stuttering and stammering like a nervous child, but stopped abruptly when Fett took another step forward, spurs clanking again. He either didn’t notice the effect his brief intimidation had on you, or he didn’t care. You assumed it was most likely the second one.

“ There’s a problem. ” Fett wasn’t asking you. It was a statement. Maybe another time you would have attempted to lie your way out of it just to save yourself the embarrassment that you knew was coming, but tonight you couldn’t even find the energy to attempt it.

“I can’t tonight. I just... can’t .” You murmured, almost tearfully defeated, gingerly sitting up in the bed to take a better look at your nighttime visitor. You could see yourself reflected in the viewscreen of his helmet, disheveled from sleep and sickly-looking, although you didn’t know if that was a trick of the moonlight or a sign of your current condition. Despite the intense cramping in your belly that was overtaking most other sensations, you still felt a flutter of longing travel to your loins upon seeing Boba Fett. How badly you wanted to grab him by that clunky belt and drag him down onto the bed next to you, free him from his trousers, and ride him until you found your release, but your body wasn’t in agreement with your wishes in the least bit. You took a deep breath, and steadily looked him in the eye.

“ I got my period this morning. ”

Silence. Not even a tilt of the dented helmet, a gesture you sometimes received after making references that he didn’t understand.

Feeling your cheeks aflame and slightly embarrassed by the lack of response, you tried again.

“...I’m menstruating, Boba. You know… moon blood? The curse? I don’t know if that’s a thing that happens to people where you come from, but I’m bleeding out of my vagina and I feel fucking miserable and -”

Fett cut off your babbling with a sharp gesture through the air with one hand, the other settled nonchalantly on his hip as he shifted his weight. He let out a gruff sigh that lifted and dropped his shoulders in an almost comical display of exasperation.

“I know what it is. I’ve been with enough humanoid females in my lifetime. Is that supposed to change our plans tonight, little one?”

It was your turn to go silent. You should have known something venomous and snarky like that would’ve been his answer. And of course he had more experience than you, he was older - by just how much, you weren’t exactly sure. He’d never shared his age, and you didn’t ask. He barely spoke as it was. And you still had yet to see his face. He’d never offered to show you, however, as if it were some closely guarded secret only he was the keeper of. And you didn’t dare try removing that strange, heavy helmet of his yourself. Boba Fett had never hurt you, but you felt if you were to reach underneath the sharp edges of his armor, peel it away from the complicated, mysterious creature underneath, there was no telling what he would do.

Hell, you had never even seen this man’s face and yet you had let him fuck you within an inch of your life . You’d never been ‘that kind of girl’ before you’d met him, upsetting everything you thought you’d known about yourself and the universe around you, but here you were. And here he was.

But his comment about being with other women in his past still spun ‘round your head like some mad arachnid’s twisted web, and made you wonder if he was presently doing this very same dance elsewhere - in other cities, on other worlds.

‘ If this is just a physical thing, no strings attached… ’ You found yourself brooding as you watched him languidly stalk over to the window next to your bed, tilting the green and red helmet upwards and search the night sky for things you could only vaguely guess at if you tried, ‘ Then why am I jealous of something I don’t even know is really happening? ’

“I just thought...you wouldn’t be… into that ...” You finally replied, meek as a mouse, and instantly trailed off once you realized you had no idea what else to say to him on this matter, your face burning. You should have been overwhelmed with desire at Boba wanting to fuck you this badly, but you found yourself apprehensive and shy - over a little bit of blood . It was times like this that you couldn’t fathom why a man from outer space, an intergalactic cowboy like something out of a comic book, had fallen from the sky and had chosen you.

His head turning slowly in your direction, Fett marched back towards the end of your bed, his hands gripping the leather belt at his waist.

“Your condition doesn’t matter to me. It’s a basic bodily function. Have you forgotten, foolish girl? I take what I want, when I want it .” He intoned brusquely, and your eyes widened, a delicious chill crawling up your spine, and you felt your cunt clench at nothing. The crimson tide had come in, and he still wanted to claim you.

Usually, you talked enough for the both of you. Now you found yourself utterly speechless.

There was silence while he stood at the end of the bed, and you goggled blankly at him. Fett was challenging you. He showed no signs of leaving, or of heeding your apprehension in the least bit. He just continued to stand there and stare mutely, stubbornly standing his ground. Damn it.

He had played this strange game several times before after one of your numerous meetings, lingering after it had become clear that you were way too fucked out to stay awake any longer. He’d never forced you into a situation that you hadn’t been game for, but he always seemed to want to make sure you knew who exactly owned you - or your cunt , at least.

So he hung around. You’d mostly hear him pacing the room, sometimes quietly rummaging through your bookshelves as if in a library, but more often than not, he would sit himself in the chair across the room, large gloved hands gripping the armrests and well-muscled legs spread mockingly wide, reclining back and holding a silent vigil over you as you fell asleep. He was always long gone when you awoke, although once there had been some sort of dried flower left behind on your nightstand, dark red petals with a metallic tint to them - quite obviously nothing that had grown on this planet. You had asked him about it the next time he had shown up, after an excruciating three month absence that he re-emerged from with several more dents in and copious chips of paint missing from his armor. He had gruffly feigned any knowledge of the gift, his focus only on the flower between your legs. The dried one, however - the little token of his appreciation or whatever you wanted to call it - stayed pressed inside one of your favorite books.

As a reminder.

Boba hadn’t moved in a while, still penetrating you with his eyes through that damned visor, when you finally decided to give in to him. You wanted him. Badly. Your reproductive system was in full rebellion against the idea and you felt fucking gross, but you weren’t sure you cared any longer. You needed him, couldn’t resist him. Hadn’t you read somewhere that orgasms were supposed to help relieve menstrual cramps, anyway?

You bit your lip and let him have his way.

“In that case, Boba… I think I might feel a little bit better if you fucked me.”

The self-satisfied, smug chuckle came like a rumble of thunder.

“Well, well… that’s my good girl. ”

He was across the room in the time it took you to blink.

Boba was extraordinarily light on his feet for a big man, and he was on top of you in the span of a breath. Rough leather gloves formed a vice around the muscle and bone of your wrists, pinning your arms above your head. You let out a shriek of surprise rather than pain - while his grip was firm, it didn’t necessarily hurt - and he answered with a low growl, kneeling on either side of your hips. He used one huge hand to continue pinning both of your wrists down, the other masterfully unclipping the heavy armor of his codpiece. You let out a near-hysterical giggle as Boba tossed it to the side and it unceremoniously hit the carpeted floor with a harsh thunk , smiling even broader as he brought the same hand up to rest against your cheek, stroking the flushed skin there.

“I told you, girl. I always get what I want, when I want it . Tonight isn’t going to be an exception just because you’re cycling and feeling sorry for yourself. If you’re not going to cooperate with me, nice and easy... too bad .”

Gooseflesh broke out all over your body at his words. You were absolutely fucking drenched for him already, and you wished he would just hurry up and take you already, tear off your panties and fuck into you until you were screaming yourself hoarse. You still weren’t sure of where exactly the man who called himself Boba Fett had come from, or why he was here , or why he’d chosen to mark you for his territory on this shitty little backwater world. Fucking hell, you didn’t even really know this man at all, did you? All you did know is that you were addicted to his touch, and despite your initial hesitations, you were practically begging for it now.

Boba used his free hand to slightly peel back the blankets concealing your thin nightie and period panties. With a contented hum, he lazily reached out to trace a thick gloved finger right along the line of your slit, and you let out a high-pitched, keening whimper, your hips twitching up involuntarily towards his touch. Boba clucked his tongue disapprovingly and shook his head at you, sighing and looking up towards the ceiling.

“How pathetic … is that really all it takes to make you fall apart for me, sweet girl?” Boba teased, releasing his grip on your wrists momentarily in order to fully pull the covers off the bed and toss them onto the floor. It only took those few seconds for you to take him unawares, weaseling out from underneath his looming form and using both hands to forcefully shove him backwards. Caught off guard by your unexpected show of strength, Boba fell on his back with a startled grunt, which was immediately followed by a groan as he watched you crawl on top of him. With shaking legs, you straddled his waist and positioned your heat right over his generous crotch, planting your sweaty palms against the reassuring coldness of his armor, and began to sloppily grind into him, dropping down to lie flat against his abdomen as you continued.

Trying to conceal his own quiet moans underneath his helmet, Boba allowed you to frantically grind your hips against the growing hardness in his trousers for a few more moments, one large hand cupping your ass and the other on your undulating back, holding you steady as you hectically rocked back and forth, up and down. You whined pitiably and grasped at the grooves of his breastplate like a drowning woman before his tolerance towards your juvenile ministrations finally ran thin. As you went to roll your hips against the outline of his length yet again, Boba grunted bestially and grasped you by the waist, pushing you off of him roughly so that you went tumbling onto your back next to him. Your chest heaving, you looked sideways at him with heavy-lidded eyes, your cheeks burning with desire. The dark helmet slowly tilted to the side as Boba stared at you, and you heard a disgusted scoff echo from within.

“That’s enough, you. Kriff, you’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you? Rutting in my lap like a loth-cat in heat and I’ve barely even touched you. Is that what you want, princess? Do you want me to touch you?” He purred mockingly, reaching down to lightly stroke your outer thigh with a gloved hand, briefly squeezing the soft flesh there and leaving fingermarks in his wake. You let out a throaty groan and thrust your hips towards his retreating hand, needing to feel his touch on your body, on your core.

“I need you to touch me, Boba, plea-” He reached out and grabbed you by the face, squeezing your cheeks together hard enough for it to almost be painful, and you let out a squeak as he tightened his grip, turning your face towards his.

“Oh no, little one. It’s not going to be that easy to get what you want from me, not after the way you carried on earlier.” He lowered his helmet until the forehead of it was touching your own damp one, and as you stared into the blackness of his visor, you found yourself wondering what color Boba’s eyes were, and what he would do if you were to reach up and pull that big green bucket away from his face. Before you could even truly consider it, though, he loosened his grip and released your cheeks. You exhaled sharply, a rush of cool air gradually taking the place of the rough leather on your skin.

Boba sat back on his knees, and grabbed you under your arms, hoisting you up and pivoting your body so you were now hanging off the bed, your feet dangling several inches above the floor. He lowered you slowly, making sure your feet were flat on the ground before he let his hands leave your sides, fingers purposefully trailing and pressing into the supple, pliant flesh of your still-covered, swollen breasts as he withdrew. The sensation of his trace along the tender tissues set your nerves on fire, and your nipples hardened to an almost excruciatingly painful degree. You considered reaching out to snatch one of those gauntleted wrists and plant his hand right on your tit, willing him to knead and squeeze and flick at the oversensitive bud at its tip, but were brought back to reality by a sharp smack to your ass.

You yelped, grabbing at your backside and whirling around to see Boba sitting on the bed, staring at you. He had taken his gloves off, and had swatted you with them, both forming a makeshift crop in his calloused hand. He let out an amused snort at your look of shock, and patted the palm of his other hand with the fisted leather.

“Go to the ‘fresher and clean yourself up.” You sensed by the edge to Boba’s voice that his patience was running low, and he gestured vaguely to the doorway with a jerk of his head. His rugged timbre crackled through the vocoder of the helmet, adding an even more ominous tone to his speech. He reclined on your bed, his ankles crossed nonchalantly, armored form looking massive and mind-bogglingly out of place as he lounged back against the pillows. It would have almost been a comical sight if it hadn’t been for the heady arousal you could sense in his gaze.

“And take that kriffing absorbent out while you’re in there. I want you nice and wet and open for me.”

You felt your heart sink right to your cunt at his last words. Stars, you were fucking dripping for him. A wave of liquid heat that had nothing to do with your cycle had pooled between your legs, and you felt your knees buckle as visions of what intense pleasures this man might put you through tonight swam in your mind. You shambled to the bathroom on legs that seemed to be made of gelatin, breathing heavily through your nose, trying to keep calm as you wiped away the sweat that had accumulated on your body in an attempt to make yourself somewhat presentable. You splashed your face with cold water to keep yourself from falling faint at the knowledge of what was to come, glancing at yourself in the mirror briefly. Your eyes were glassy, your pupils blown wide, almost completely black in the harsh light. A fresh round of cramps erupted in a band around your groin, and you were starting to think you’d die if Boba didn’t fuck you soon. Resting one leg on the toilet seat, you shoved your panties to the side and slowly removed the offending menstrual cup that you had inserted before you’d retired for the night, hastily discarding it in the bin. You didn’t care if it had tipped over and made a mess, you’d clean it up in the morning. All you cared about right now was getting back to Boba and feeling him twitch and throb inside of you.

He was waiting for you when you re-emerged, immediately rising to stand on the side of the bed. Beckoning you with the crook of a finger, he held out his hand to you as you practically ran towards him. As soon as the pads of your fingers had made contact with his, he spun you around to lie flat on the bed, head propped up behind the pillows, feet planted on the mattress and your legs spread so that he had a perfect view of your damp panties. Whether it was blood or arousal or a mixture of both, you weren’t sure - free-bleeding had never been your ‘thing’ and you weren’t sure if you liked the feeling - but as Boba climbed back onto the bed, openly admiring the wetness between your legs, you began to think that maybe it was something you could get used to.

He yanked down your underwear in one deft movement, grabbing hold of your calves one by one to remove your panties from around your legs, and tossed them to the side, where they landed in a crumple. He immediately leaned forward to spread your wet lips apart with his rough fingers, and you heard a sharp intake of breath come from underneath the helmet. It was barely audible, and you could tell that it had been involuntary from the way he had attempted to cut it off before it had even truly escaped. You flung one arm across your eyes, blushing furiously as you felt two thick fingers shallowly dip into your folds, swiping upwards briefly to gather some of the slick gathered there, then retreating just as quickly, before you could buck your hips into the welcome presence.

“ Such a dirty girl …” He cooed darkly, and you opened your eyes cautiously just to see what exactly he was talking about. He perched above you on his knees, gazing at his own hand, the one he had just been briefly exploring your wetness with.

His fingers were coated in blood - your blood, your menstrual blood - and he was smearing the red between his thumb, index, and middle fingers, as if utterly fascinated by it. His helmet briefly dipped down to his fingers as he greedily inhaled your most secret scent, and the low groan he released made you throw your own head back in an echo, fire traveling from your slick cunt throughout your body. Your cry came out much louder than anticipated, and his head immediately snapped up, his hidden eyes boring into you. You embarrassedly tore your eyes away from the darkened visor and noticed the impressive bulge straining at the crotch of his flight suit, along with the telltale damp patch that could only mean his cock was already weeping precum - fuck, this was turning him on.

He moved forward once more, brushing your legs further apart with a swat of the backside of his other hand and, resting his palm atop your shaking knee, almost calculatingly smeared the blood from his fingers along your inner thigh, back and forth, until the digits were nearly clean. You noticed a bit of dried redness still staining his skin, and the sight made you dizzy with arousal.

You threw your head back against the pillows once more and whined morosely at the mark your essence had left on him, offering no resistance when Boba grabbed you by your elbows, easing you onto your feet in front of his own kneeling form.

“Up you get, girl. Come on.”

You looked down at him, slightly puzzled as to exactly what he was doing, until he sharply prodded the backs of your knees with his arm, causing you to stumble forward. He caught your fall by positioning one thick thigh to rest between your legs, and you landed with your sopping core pressed directly against the grey fabric of his flight suit. Upon realizing your situation, you clutched at his biceps and buried your face in his neck with a muffled groan, every fiber of your being going into restraining yourself from fucking against the expanse of hard muscle. Boba Fett had remembered what you liked best, and he’d weaponized it.

“Go on. Ride my thigh, little one. Make yourself nice and slick so you’re ready to take my cock inside of you. You’ll probably have to cum at least once before you can handle it - I'm too big for you, aren’t I? ...But that’s what you want, isn’t it? My cock in your pretty little pussy?” Boba asked sweetly, his tone oozing with sarcasm. He jiggled his leg ever so slightly, and a shockwave of pure pleasure coursed through your veins, and you couldn’t help but let out a strangled squeal. Your calves shook in a futile attempt to hold yourself still despite it, to not give in to what he expected of you.

Boba had another idea though. He growled and clutched at your hips and began forcefully dragging you back and forth across the coarse material of his pants, causing you to emit a wail that echoed throughout the room. Boba hummed, satisfied with the effect his domination of your movements had on you, and lowered his head so that he was whispering in your ear, the sound delightfully harsh and metallic through his helmet’s vocoder.

“What was that, precious thing? You love fucking yourself against my leg like the needy little brat that you are, I know you do… now say it . Answer me, girl.” Boba punctuated his order with a slap to your ass, aggressively driving the muscle of his thigh up into your quim.

“Y-yes, Boba…” You weakly murmured, hiding your face against his shoulder, thighs clenching around his upper leg like a vise, your hips finally - almost involuntarily - thrusting into the meat of Boba’s thigh in time with the rhythm he jerked them back and forth with. “I… I l-love fucking m-myself on your thigh…”

“ Very good …” Boba chuckled darkly to himself as he continued to bounce his leg up and down while guiding your hips with his firm, strong hands, reveling in the soft grunts you let out as he controlled your riding of his thigh. He began flexing his quadricep to usher your impending orgasm along, occasionally pressing the tops of your thighs down to create more friction against your clit, friction you desperately needed as you chased your first release.

Your hips started to stutter much sooner than you had anticipated and you locked your arms around Boba’s neck in a death grip, lifting your face away from its place pressed against his breastplate to look into his eyes through the blackness of the T-shaped visor. Boba pinched the tip of your chin with his index finger and thumb, keeping your head in place so you were forced to meet his gaze as you came, his other hand planted firmly on your waist as he continued to shove your body back and forth.

“Come on, sweet thing. Cum on my thigh for me,” Boba encouraged as your grunting turned into high-pitched whines, spaced out with every push of your hips into his leg. Wriggling yourself in small circles and grinding your clit into the rough flak of his flight suit, you tipped your head back as you were finally pushed over the edge. Your inner walls clenched around nothing, devastating waves of pleasure rolling through your cunt and up through your clit as you rode out your orgasm. Boba didn’t slow his ministrations in the least bit, continuing to pump his leg up and down, holding you tightly in place as the spasms finally began to slow down and your clit became horribly oversensitive, until he finally allowed you to push yourself away from him, falling back onto the bed, panting loudly.

Trembling and shivering from the orgasm that had ripped cataclysmically through your body, you laid back on the bed, chest heaving violently, legs splayed and arms thrown limply above your head. You opened your watering eyes briefly to look at Boba, and they widened considerably when you saw that he was curiously running his fingers over several incredibly noticeable stains on the thigh of his flight suit.

Incredibly noticeable dark red stains. More like streaks, actually, following the line your pussy had made rutting against his thigh as you had sought your climax on the thick canvas.

You felt the warmth drain from your face, slightly horrified and ready to sink into the floor out of embarrassment. You’d been bleeding like a stuck pig all over his leg as he’d forced your orgasm out of you, and you hadn’t even realized it.

“Oh, Boba … I…” You began, rising up on your elbows, trying to think of what to say to placate him so he wouldn’t reprimand you for ruining a part of the armor that he cherished more than most other things. He was staring at you, unmoving, and that’s when you noticed his hands were actually shaking . The heat immediately rushed back to your face tenfold, and your cunt grew even warmer, your own arousal coating your inner thighs anew at how much of a mess you’d made of this man, in more ways than one.

“ Filthy girl. I’m going to fuck you hard for that.” The words came out in a feral snarl, and suddenly his hands were around your throat. You let out a gasping whoop as the air was forced from your lungs, although he wasn’t choking you hard enough to cause damage. The moderate pressure on your windpipe sent black spots to your vision, your own hands coming up to scrabble at the backs of his, more out of longing for his touch than a desire for him to stop, and Boba knew your limits by now. It ended soon enough, his iron grip relaxing almost as quickly as it had begun, and you gulped in fresh air. He ghosted the backs of his fingers over your exposed neck for a moment, wordlessly making sure that you were okay, and you pressed a chaste kiss to his knuckles as he dragged the digits over your mouth for a brief moment. Another growl left his lips as you did so, and your hammering heart flipped in your chest as you felt him still quaking from just how horny he was, how eager to finally take you.

Boba hurriedly unbuttoned the fly of his trousers, his normally deft fingers stumbling in his aroused rush to free himself. You couldn’t imagine just how turned on he must be to completely lose his cool like this, and it dazed you to comprehend that he was like this because of you . He finally shoved aside the rough material and pulled his cock free. You’d seen him too many times to count, but that first glimpse still sent your mind reeling. He was fucking huge. A perfect eight inches, ever-so-slightly curved to the right, veiny and deliciously wide, the glans plump and dusky pink and already slick with precum. He’d gone commando under his flight suit, and you found yourself wondering if he did all the time. You hoped so - it was fucking hot .

“Boba, wait - are you absolutely sure you want to do this? It’s… going to... make a mess…” You said weakly, grasping at his bracer with your trembling fingers and feeling as if you might faint as he lined up his considerable girth against your entrance. You felt the fat head of his cock against your lips, and it was like every nerve-ending in your body was fucking screaming at the tease.

He paused for a moment, sitting back and studying you intently, slowly pumping his engorged member and spreading glistening precum over the velvety, blunt head with a still-bloodstained thumb. A taunting rumble emanated from under his helmet, and his length twitched in his hand. Leaning down to cup your face with one hand, the other on the root of his erection, hot and hard and throbbing against you, you could hear the smirk in Boba’s voice.

“Oh, princess… I’m a bounty hunter. A little blood has never scared me.”

He entered you without any further warning, one deep, agonizingly slow thrust, and it felt like you were being ripped apart from the inside in the best way. No matter how many times you’d taken him, no matter how drenched and ready you were for him, Boba Fett’s cock was massive , the biggest you’d ever had. Tears sprang to your eyes and you wrapped your arms around his neck, knees involuntarily drawing up so that you could wrap your legs around his still-clothed waist, wanting him closer and deeper despite the initial burn. He bottomed out just as he was starting to hurt beyond your threshold, just as you were considering asking him to stop, letting out a deep, low groan as his balls and the dark patch of curls surrounding them made contact with your skin. You could feel the seam of his trousers against your ass as well, the knowledge that he hadn’t even bothered to take off his pants in order to fuck you sending a thrill up your spine.

And then he started to move.

Boba pistoned his hips back and forth at a near-frantic pace right from the start, already grunting with the exertion, and you knew that he was trying his hardest to keep some semblance of rhythm, to not mindlessly fuck into you like a wild animal, solely focused on chasing his own orgasm. Your whole body moving with every thrust, your cloth-covered tits bouncing as he slammed into you, you looked down between your bodies and watched his thick cock slide in and out of you. Your walls squeezed and fluttered urgently as you noticed the wet sheen of your blood coating his member as he plunged deeper and deeper into you. He dragged his cock out of you until only the head was still sitting inside, then rammed back home - once, twice; you began to lose count as your mind became hazy with the pleasure.

“Take the helmet off.” You found yourself gasping out, and Boba stopped as if he’d been frozen in time. He pulled his head back slightly to stare directly into your eyes, holding his body still above you.

“Please,” you continued, “I want to see you, I need you to kiss me, I need to see your face, pleaseplease please, Boba-“ You chanted as if in prayer, stopping mid-sentence as you realized just how still he had become.

Boba gave no discernible reply, either audibly or physically, but you could still feel his surprise through your hands, the taut muscles under your touch having suddenly turned to stone. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. Panic rising in your gut, you expected him to pull himself from inside of you and push you away, to disappear into the night never to be seen again, you began to utter a quiet “I’m sorry, Bo-“ when he shushed you with a hiss, and reached down between your bodies to press his index and middle fingers to your clit, rubbing slow, lackadaisical circles over the swollen nub. He chuckled from somewhere low in his chest, both at your pleading to see his face, and your renewed mewls of ecstasy at his teasing fingers.

“Hush, little princess. Some other time.”

With that, he pressed his fingers into your waist and lifted you off your back with ease, scooting himself to the edge of the bed so that his legs were hanging over the side, your own positioned on either side of his waist so that you were sitting flush in his lap, your thighs pressed firmly to his, his pulsating member buried deep inside of you. Boba gave you a moment to settle in his lap and adjust to the new position, then wrapped one arm around your waist to keep you from tumbling backwards and began slamming into you with an almost murderous intensity, his other arm reaching between you and covering your pussy with his hand, using his thumb to rub frenzied circles into your engorged clit, periodically pinching and flicking. You bit back a scream and your walls clenched painfully around his cock, and buried your face in the scratchy material protecting his throat. Your head tucked underneath the lip of his helmet, you could hear Boba panting and letting out throaty little moans, the sound unaltered by his vocoder at this angle, and the rasp of his true voice made you squirm with delight, grinding back against the sharp, shallow juts up into your core.

You felt a dampness forming on the material beneath your slack-jawed mouth as he fucked up into you; knowing that you were drooling right onto his clothing, completely cock-dumb and at the mercy of the man jackhammering into you, seemed to set off fireworks within your core. You heard a whining noise, steadily growing louder and higher-pitched as it went on, and it took a moment for you to realize that you were making that sound. Your second orgasm was building faster and faster, your own movements becoming hectic and sloppy against his rhythmic thrusting, and you persisted crying out wordlessly, rocking wildly on Boba’s lap. He continued to pound into you, growling and grunting like a beast, and that’s when you began to scream in earnest, the blunt tip of his cock finally scraping against that sweet spot deep inside your core, again and again and again.

Boba brought one hand up to stroke your cheek as his aggressive thrusts bounced you up and down in his lap, a soft shushing noise emanating from underneath the helmet. When that didn’t work to stifle your cries, he clamped one hand over your mouth, squeezing your face with the force of it.

“There you go, little one. That’s it, come on… cum on my cock. Let me make you feel good…” He murmured, thrusting up into you one final time and grinding his hips in a semi-circle as he did, his glans catching against the spongy patch deep inside you again, finally setting off a volley of apocalyptic spasms throughout your cunt. You clenched painfully around Boba, your pussy fluttering, your entire body shuddering and heaving with the waves of pleasure rolling through your system. The orgasm dragged on and on as Boba continued to grind into you and you shrieked into his hand, tears rolling down your cheeks from the intensity of it. His thrusts were too overstimulating, bordering on painful, as the spasms finally began to ebb, but Boba’s movements had become increasingly erratic, his own grunts louder, and finally - with a muttered curse in a guttural language you didn’t recognize - he harshly yanked himself out of your still-spasming cunt and pressed his cock against your belly. Streaks of Boba’s cum spurted up, leaving his mark all over the front of your nightie. When he was sure his cock had been milked for all it was worth, just before he began to go soft, Boba quickly lifted your ass up with one hand and sank you back down onto him, causing you to gasp and rut against him several times in your overstimulated state. He stilled you by wrapping an arm around your waist, resting his chin atop the crown of your hair, both of you completely exhausted and unable to even consider a second round anytime soon.

For a few minutes afterwards, you were pliant and vulnerable in his arms, your cheek pressed against the cool armor of his breastplate, shivering both with delight and the aftershocks of your climax. Boba’s own chest heaved as he attempted to catch his breath, his fingers running up and down your back, occasionally wiping the sweat and tears away from your face. You found yourself clinging desperately to his shoulder pauldrons, silently willing him not to move, to finally stay the night by your side. Neither one of you spoke, but you didn’t need to. You could have fallen asleep in his lap like this, legs dangling on both sides of his hips, his cock still inside of you, a strangely comforting sense of fullness.

It was too good to last, of course. With a relaxed sigh, Boba shifted, slowly lifting you off his cock. He left your opening with a wet pop , a mixture of pinkish menstrual blood and both of your arousals dribbling down the inside of your thigh as he flopped you down on the bed, stretching lazily as if he hadn’t just fucked your brains out. He stalked off to the bathroom without a word, probably to wash your blood off of himself. You closed your eyes for a moment, almost on the cusp of sleep and still sniffling from the tears your powerful orgasm had brought on, when you heard soft bootsteps returning from the other room, followed by the feeling of a damp cloth between your legs, gently cleaning your wrecked sex. You sighed softly at the unexpected sensation, and hummed contentedly when the cloth was removed and a warm hand settled itself over your lower belly, kneading the sore flesh there.

“Feeling better, cyar’ika?” Boba asked, and his tone made your heart ache. This affection was something fairly new, and you gave an affirmative, sleepy murmur in response. He had never called you that name before - he’d never even called you your actual name before - and you wondered what it meant, but knew you would only receive a brooding stare if you deigned to ask. You were too tired to consider it, anyway. You doubted you could stay awake for much longer.

The hand withdrew from your tummy, and as your eyes fluttered closed, you saw Boba standing over you, looking every bit the fearsome warrior. He reached out and tapped his fingers under your chin delicately, and you heard the sound of spurs moving across the room, away from your bed.

“ Good. ”

He was gone in the morning, of course.

It had been silly to think maybe you’d open your eyes and see him sitting in the chair across the room, waiting for you to wake up.

The only sign that someone else had been there at all was the delicious ache between your legs that always lasted for several days after one of Boba’s visits and the lingering scent of post-coital musk in the air, as well as a few bloodstains on the sheets and dried cum on your nightshirt that you hoped would come out in the wash.

And last night’s underwear had mysteriously vanished.

You thought you had a vague idea of where it might’ve ended up.

#boba fett #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x reader

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago

Text

Emp-Ire “The King.”

“I am starting to think that the oracle was screwing with us.”

“Silence!” One of the men barked, clapping Ramirez across the back of the head with an open palm. Ramirez jerked forward with a grunt of pain, and seeing that, Adam was having the sudden, sneaking suspicion that…. Everything wasn’t what it seemed to be.

At first, the whole thing had screamed of elaborate tourism. Let the tourists show up and think they are going on some cool quest, and then make them overpay to meet with some lady who was just super high, but the way these men were acting…

Adam was beginning to agree with Ramirez.

If their adventure as Sheriff’s deputies had been real then wasn’t there all the likelihood that this was real as well? Just because you show up to someplace exotic doesn't mean it was designed like that to amuse you. He wouldn’t take a hop and a skip over to Japan and just assume that the different customs there were an elaborate ploy to get money off of tourists….

Well maybe on Earth that sort of thing could totally happen, but looking at these men…. Their physiques, their clothing,their weapons, and the very real, point of their spears, he was becoming aware that maybe they had stumbled on something a lot more serious than they had first thought.

Shit.

He seemed to have a habit of doing things like that.

He glanced around at the small contingent of men who walked with them. As he had noticed before each and every one of them was absolutely shredded, not necessarily in the bodybuilder kind of way, but in a way that made it clear these guys never skipped leg day, arm, day or cardio.

Adam and Ramirez were no slouches; by comparison, both of them hitting the gym at least five times a week for an hour at least, but in comparison?

And of course they didn’t hide it either.

Each of the men carried a massive circular shield and spears taller than they were. They had on sandals with greaves and simple leather wraps, most of them were bare chested, though their commanding officer wore a breastplate, all of them wore helmets.

“Laconia!”

His sudden exclamation startled the man as well as Ramirez,

“Shit, I just realized why that sounded familiar.”

One of the men turned to look at his commanding officer, “I do not think they are Athenians, sir.” He glanced back at Adam, “Too dumb.”

The other men laughed at his expense. Adam frowned, “Sorry my knowledge of ancient greek geographical locations isn’t up to snuff.”

He was silenced with another slap to the head, and with his ears ringing and one eye fuzzy, he finally accepted that this was, in fact, not a joke. Somehow, for some reason that dumbass oracle had sent them out to get potentially sacrificed by a group of Neospartans, and he doubted they were going to be able to sue for damages.

It took almost the whole day to make it to “Sparta” itself, though he became aware of their approaching closeness when small dwellings began appearing on the edge of fields. It was only when he figured out that Spartans needed to eat too that he realized not ALL of them were going to be big buff badasses. Of course, that was until he saw the farmer pulling the plow, who was in fact Hercules’s cousin on his father Zeus’s side.

Okay so maybe things were a bit different.

He was under the impression back during the age of real Sparta, a lot of spartan citizens were just normal people and it was only a select few who were turned into warriors. Women, while they had some rights than in other places, were still expected to stay home and take care of things while the men were off at war. She had to be strong, but that was only because she was expected to raise spartan sons, or something like that. He couldn’t remember exactly how that sort of thing worked, he wasn’t a historian. For all he knew Spartan women were just as shredded as the men.

A truth that seemed apparent for thee spartans because, as they made it to the next little farming house, a woman turned to look at them and damn it was like the Amazons met the spartans. She wasn’t particularly tall by anyone’s standards, but she looked like did mixed martial arts for a living.

He had no doubt she could probably kick his ass.

Ramirez had gone rather silent as he looked around nodding to himself every so often as they were dragged through the outlying villages and farms, and eventually up a set of stone steps leading into a city which was surrounded by lush medeteranian hills and grasslands on either side.

The city itself was no slouch either. It wasn’t as artistically expressive as New Athens had been, ut there was no shortage of statues, and interesting architecture. Walking down the street, everyone they met was shredded or well on their way to becoming so. The men, the women, everyone but the children.

He noticed a few differences from ancient histories, including but not limited to the fact that the women were just as armored as the men, the many races and ethnicities, and the strange assortment of modern day dogs that roamed the place, which he thought was a strange addition.

A line of marching soldiers passed by wearing their red and gold, and as they went Ramirez turned his head to follow them, “Welp, I am pretty sure I had a dream like this once.”

“Did you dream include us dying horribly?”

“Does being crushed between someone's thighs count?”

Adam sighed and rolled his eyes to the heavens, “how can you be thinking like that at a time like this?”

“How can you not, I am scared and way turned on and it is the most confusing feeling I have ever had in my life…. Aren't you just a little?”

Adam frowned and was surprised to find that, “No, he didn’t think so. He was JEALOUS of plenty of these men, but none of the men or women caught his eye in that way, at least he didn't think so.”

Ramirez stared at him and shook his head sadly.

“What?”

“Still thinking about your breakup huh?”

“No I’m not.”

“Quiet.” One of the men hissed raising a hand to backhand one of them, though he stopped as a voice called out from before them.

“Captain NIcos, you have returned from your patrol.”

It was a woman’s voice this time, and as they looked up an armored figure stepped down from the steps to the columned temple. She wore a bright golden breastplate, knee length red skirt and golden greaves and bracers. An attendant at her shoulder carried her Helm, though she kept hold of her spear and circular shield. She was at least six feet tall and had a body like the she hulk though her face was exceptionally beautiful as well, with large brown eyes and full lips.

The man raised his spear to her, “Queen Xanthia.”

The man around them raised their spears as well.

She stepped forward over the stone, “What have you found here.” She used the tip of her spear to reach under Ramirez’s chin and tilt his head back, “Athenians?’

“They say they are ‘from Athens, but not “Athenian.” Captain Nicos said shoving Adam forward so he tripped and fell to his knees on the hard stone.

She grunted and turned her attention to him, tilting his head back to look at her, “Is this true, not-an-Athenian.”

He crinched away from the blade of her spear, “I’m Mericandian actually, Terran, Earthling.”

There were a couple grunts of surprise from around the group.

“Tourists.” Ramirez piped in.

Xanthia frowned, raising her chin, “And how did you end up on Laconia. We don’t encourage tourists here.”

“Would you believe it if I said that asshole of an oracle sent us here.” He raised his hands, “We meant no disrespect of course, we just came here to see the sights and then leave.”

Ramirez nodded.

There was another muttering from the crowd. She had an eyebrow raised, “The oracle you say?”

The two of them nodded again, not sure where this was going.

She turned her head to Captain Nicos, “Keep a close eye on them, I will speak with the king”

She turned on her heels and walked off, passing through the double doors with a swish of her red cloak, leaving the two of them still kneeling on the rough stone.

They turned to look at each other in nervous confusion, not entirely sure where this was going. Overhead the sky had dimmed to a dull blue and torches were being lit all up the city streets. The young man who was doing the lighting had the look of a classic greek hero with tight curly hair and a body borrowed from a demigod.

The two of them didn’t say anything until the doors opened and the queen walked back out, “The king wishes to see the intruders.”

Two guards held the doors opened as they were forced to their feet and up the steps. The interior of the room was bare and blunt, no more than stone pillars and a single uncomfortable throne carved out of sharp marble blocks, on which sat the manliest man he had likely ever seen. Xanthia walked over and sat in the identical throne next to him, and together it seemed as if they were being pulled before the throne of the very gods themselves.

This man was godlike, but not the kind of overly muscled where he can't even touch his own head. This was probably what peak human performance looked like with a neatly shaved beard and thick dark hair. Adam glanced over at Ramirez again, to see the other man was nodding in great approval of this development. He turned his head back to the man who stood very slowly, his armor clinking. He wore a short sword on one hip and carried a spear in one hand, and when he moved, he moved with the grace of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, and where his body was at all times.

He walked down the steps and looked the two of them over with steely golden eyes, like those of a wolf.

His gaze fell on Adam for a long hard moment, “I see we have been graced by the presence of a foreign general.” He said turning back and stepping up the stone steps.

There was a murmuring in the room around them.

Adam blinked in surprise, “You know who I am.”

The Spartan king stood before his seat, but did not sit down, “Well of course.”

He held up his arm so Adam could see the scrolling holographic image across his wrist, “Just because I live like a spartan doesn’t mean I subjugate my life to not knowing what goes on in the universe. In fact as King it is my duty to know what important developments are being made in this galaxy.”

He turned his head to look at Adam ,”I am loyal to this galaxy and the ideals upon which humanity has befriended aliens.” He walked across the stone, “And you Admiral Vir are an important linchpin in that model.”

He turned to wave a hand at Ramirez, “And of course I know a Marine when I see one.”

Another muttering from around the room.

So, this is sort of not what he expected. The Spartan king was well versed in intergalactic politics, and was no slouch intellectually either.

“So, you’ll let us go then.”

The man did not smile, but the way his eyes twinkled, almost menacingly did not give Adam much hope.

“Oh I never said that.” He turned and paced back in the other direction, “You see, Admiral, I have become aware of an unfortunate pattern in humanity’s political history, and this includes the fall of empires due to poor or weak leaders.” he turned on the spot, “I had given up hope in being able to influence the intergalactic stage, but finding you here has…. Given me an idea.”

Oh no.

“I want to see just what kind of men are being tasked with keeping this galaxy together. I want to know if you can do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done. I want to make sure that my people are in good hands, when their good is out of mine.”

“What are you talking about.”

“I want to make sure you are a brave leader, and that you can fight when is necessary.”

He made a motion with his hands and Ramirez was dragged off to the side.

A group of Spartans stepped up and grabbed Adam around the arms hauling him to his feet.

“Bring him to the training field.” The king said, and the group of men dragged him forward and out the doors.

Adam tried to protest but he was silenced as he was dragged from the doors, down the walkway and into a large lit arena with a sandy dirt floor. A large group of men were practicing here with their spears and shields, but cleared off as soon as an order was barked.

“What are you doing!” Adam demanded

“Consider this your greek trial, Admiral.” The king said taking his own spear and tossing it to Adam, who caught it in one hand, “Fight, and let’s see what you can do.” “But I-”

He was handed a shield, and then the group began to pull back.

The king stepped up onto the arena wall and paced down it’s length, “Lets see if you can beat one of my men first, and we will go from there.”

He motioned a hand and ordered one of the younger men forward. He couldn’t have been that old and was not nearly as well put together as the others, but he held his spear and shield with some confidence.

Ok…. this was going to get interesting.

He knew there was nothing he could do to stop them, so Adam dropped into a crouch.

The shield felt awkward and heavy on his arm, but the spear was a familiar weight. They circled for a short time before the boy came charging at him. He could see what the king was doing. This boy was young and had probably trained repeatedly in drills but had never sued weapons in practice..

He was meant to be easy to beat.

Adam stepped to the side and caught the boy’s foot sending him staggering away. Adam used the shield to knock him further off balance and sent him plowing into the dirt.

No one made a sound.

It wasn’t that impressive. That was SUPPOSED to be easy.

“So at least you have SOME training.” The king called. Overhead a shooting star crossed over the heavens. A crowd trickled onto the stands of the arena.

He motioned someone else forward. She too was young, but the set of her face and a scar down her right cheek showed that she had at least SEEN combat at some point. The way she eyed Adam told him that she knew what she was doing.

Her problem?

She was likely to set i nher fighting abilities, not creative enough. He traded a couple of strikes with her, gaging her ability before making his move. He used his shield as a distraction to cover some of his movement so she couldn't see, and then sent a lightning fast jab. He struck a hit hard on the side of her helmet sending her plowing to the Arena floor.

Still no one made a sound.

The king nodded slowly and motioned someone else forward.

This man was an actual soldier, though likely no great shakes, but at least he knew what he was doing. Adam ended up in a sharp flurry of contact before the shield got in his way and he almost took a hard blow to the shoulder , even so he ended up with a delicate cut along the side of his cheek. It was only by way of quick thinking that he was able to duck under one of the swipes and kick the man hard in the sternum. He went flailing back into the dirt, and Adam couldn’t help but whisper to himself.

“And this is sparta bitch.”

The kind paced around him in a wide circle, “So, someone has trained you in the use of the spear.”

Adam growled, “I was trained to fight aliens with four arms, so you are going to have to try harder.”

The king smiled, “Confidence…. Always a good sign. But the shield, I think you have not been trained to use one of those.”

Adam paused nodded, and then threw the shield to the ground kicking it away.

He took the spear up in two hands, in a distinctly different style from the spartans, “Well, come on then.”

WIth the shield gone and his switch back to using a spear like he had been trained he defeated the next three challenges with relative impunity. It was only when the king stared adding extra fighters did Adam struggle.

They clashed hard, Adam ducking dodging and sometimes jumping over swings from his opponents. He dived into the dirt, rolled onto his back and caught two spears as they hurtled down at him. He kicked one in the side of the knee and he went down. Adam lunged for the hit, spun on the spot and caught the second spear as it came down for him again. He brought the but of his spear up and hit the woman in the face before spinning back in the other direction, dodging an oncoming jab and slammed his spear into the back of his opponent’s head sending them sprawling to the ground.

He was breathing heavily now but he could see and hear some of the men and women muttering in surprise.

The king nodded, “This is heartening, I must say. It seems as if our leaders CAN fight.”

Someone was motioned forward and he was handed a rag to wipe his face and a canteen of water. He drank greedy wiping his mouth and tossing the leather skin back to the young woman who had brought it to him.

“But I think I do see one deficiency.”

He took a waiting spear from one of his followers, waved off a shield and stepped into the ring.

Men and women all around the circle leaned forward in anticipation. Adam readied himself.

The king stepped forward.

Adam could already tell this wasn;t going to be easy.

He was already tired, the kind was fresh.

But still he was ready, the two men circled and then Adam lunged forward in the way the Drev had taught him, The king batted it away and they made an exchange. The man didn’t try to attack him, but seemed content on seeing what Adam could do. Their engagement must have lasted for thirty minutes as they clashed, the king slowly escalating over that time. The longer they went the more energized the other man became. Adam thought if he could just hold out until the other man grew tired as well, then maybe he would have an upper hand.

But it never happened.

Adam gasped for air.

Even after what must have been thirty minutes of continual engagement, the other man only seemed to be breathing steadier and more deeply. All together they had been fighting longer and harder than all of the other previous engagements put together, and still the man was not tired. Adam watched as the man specifically did not take openings that should have killed Adam.

He knew he was trying to make some sort of point.

Adam was breathing in ragged gasps now. He had never been so tired in all his life, he came in for a lunge he knew was sloppy, and his spear was kicked from his hand. A sandals foot hit him in the chest and he went down choking. The king stood over him nodding, “I am impressed by your skill” He turned and waved to the crowd, “You could match any man or woman here hand to hand in a fair fight, but you do have one deficiency.”

Adam gulped and panted.

The king crouched next to him, “No stamina.”

He stood again, “You train with my men tomorrow, and so does your marine. We will make Spartan’s out of you yet!”

Adam gasped coming to his knees, “Wait… but I-”

“You came here for vacation, and I am sorry to inform you that will not be so. You will not be leaving until I am satisfied our galaxy is in the Best hands.”

Adam stood crawling to his feet with great effort.

The king even smiled at him this time, which seemed strange to him somehow. He held out a hand and Adam took it, “A pleasure to fight with you Admiral, I am James king of the Spartans.”

Adam frowned, “James?’ Not Kyros or something?”

“I was born in the northern provinces of Mericanda, of course I don’t have a greek name.”

He clapped Adam on the shoulder and then walked off joined by his queen and their entourage as he shouted orders vanishing into the night.

Adam stared after him.

So, the king of Sparta was Canadian?

195 notes · View notes

spacedaddymando · 4 years ago

Text

All Heart and Beskar : Chapter 2

Synopsis - A bounty hunter turned bounty, you find yourself as the assistant to one of the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy, and his little green child with big ears.

A/N - This is long!! I’ve written and rewritten this chapter all week because there was just so much I wanted to do! I hope you enjoy it, and please leave feedback if you want!

Warnings - 18+, descriptions of violence and death.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

[7.7k words] Chapter 2 - Long Days, Dark Nights

dar’manda - Not Mandalorian (used in this context that the character is no longer Mandalorian). Udesii - Calm Down Hut’uunla - Cowardly

Mando had apparently gone to check your ship the morning after and couldn’t salvage anything from the burnt wreckage of your ship. That news had made you cry more. You think you must have spent the first week crying in the uncomfortable cot in the ship before you convinced Mando to buy a mattress when docked in Nevarro.

You’d been living with Mando and the kid for 4 months now. It had taken Mando a while to trust your partnership. A lone wolf for the majority of his career he was unsure of how it would work long term. Short term partnerships suited him better but there was something about watching you hunt the bounty that changed his mind. The two of you worked together seamlessly.

You also took a while to fall into the Mandalorians routine, but once in it you never wanted to leave. Mando ran a tighter schedule of bounty hunting than you had. Early mornings and late nights with little rest time took a while to get used to. In the beginning you were asleep as soon as your head hit the thin pillow in the cot, exhaustion wearing you out. Mando however never seemed to feel the fatigue. A few hours here and there were enough to recharge the Mandalorian.

You found yourself becoming more and more intrigued by the armored man with whom you now lived. You’d catch small glimpses of skin, a sliver of wrist here or a peak of his neck there, but never more than that. Mando was stoic and guarded. His armor just added to that. By contrast you were the opposite, talkative and loud. Where Mando covered up, you relished in not having too. Often walking around in the shirt he gave you on the first night and a pair of pants. Mando never made an indication that it bothered him, having you walk around half naked all the time, but you could never tell what he was thinking under that helmet.

After a couple of weeks you noticed that the ship's heating stayed on for longer, and a warmer blanket had been purchased. So you figured that he didn’t mind, and maybe even enjoyed seeing you dress like that. You both slept on the same bed but in shifts, often you’d go first, while Mando would fly you away from whichever planet you were on before coming down to eat with you in the hull.

Mando became more talkative as the days passed. His modulated voice became your favourite sound as he asked questions about your previous life as a solo bounty hunter over bowls of soup. Conversations were still brief but Mando would let you chat to him about anything and everything.

Mando had taught you how to fly the ship after one of your hunts went wrong and Mando had to fly you into hyperspace whilst you held a bunched T-shirt to his rib cage to stop the bleeding. You had argued that you would have figured it out eventually ‘as you did have a ship too once’. Mando had held off originally as it was the one part of his life you hadn’t gotten into. The quiet hours away from you in the cockpit, whilst you slept, allowed him to get lost in his thoughts.

Now the pair of you sat in the hull of the ship, the child asleep in the cot. Mando had been cleaning his blaster when you woke up, and you settled across from him to clean your knives. The silence between you was comforting, just the groans of the ship flying through hyperspace could be heard.

Mando watched you polish your knives, visor fixed intently on your hands. You worked the cloth into the flat part of the blade, buffing out any smears or stains until it shone in the dim light of the hull. Mando sat with his arms resting on his knees, back pressed against the ship's wall. He looked relaxed, or at least the most relaxed you’d ever seen him look.

“Where did you get them?” His voice broke the silence between you.

“My uncle made them.” You placed the knife in your hand back in its leather sheath. You turned the sheathed knife in your hand, carefully checking the leather for any damage.

“What are they made from? I’ve never seen you sharpen them.”

“Beskar.”

Mando moved towards you, reaching across the hull to grab the knife that you hadn't got round to cleaning yet. Your eyes flickered up to watch him. He picked it up carefully, turning it over in his gloved hands. He paused, contemplating, holding it in front of his visor. He tapped it against the vambrace on his left sleeve, a sharp singing note rang out. “So it is.”

You watched him, hand subconsciously tightening around the knife still in your possession.

“Where did you get the beskar from?”

“My Dad.”

“And where did he get it?” Mando’s voice was level, but you knew his body language well enough by now to know he wasn’t feeling what his voice portrayed. His shoulders were stiff, and the grip he had on the knife was tight.

You bit your lip, unsure of whether or not to give up this piece of information to Mando. Despite all this time, this felt too vulnerable to share.

Before you could reply Mando spoke up. “Did he steal it?” His voice was accusatory. You snapped your eyes to his visor.

“He didn’t steal it.” You swallowed. “He died. My uncle made me them out of something he owned. Something that would be useful to me.” You looked away, fiddling with the knife in your hand.

“That doesn’t answer where the beskar came from.” Mando leaned in, the soft light glinting off his helmet. He placed the knife down gently on the floor. “Tell me.” His voice was commanding, but softer than it had been.

“He..um.... was dar’manda.” You spoke softly. Mandalorians who had lost their way, their creed, weren’t favorably looked on by true Mandalorians. “He lost his clan. They shunned him, but he kept his helmet and….when he died my uncle melted the beskar down into these knives for me.”

“Why?”

“Why did he get shunned?” Mando nodded. “He showed his face… to my mother. Before they got married. She saved his life. He didn’t want to live without her, and he couldn’t bring himself to kill her…. So he left.” Mando scoffed.

“Hut’uunla.” Mando’s voice was low, his hands curled into fists. Your mandalorian was good enough to understand what he had called your father. Cowardly.

Anger wells up in your chest. “He was not a coward.” You spit at him. “He couldn’t kill my mother because she was pregnant.” Angry tears burn your eyes, you unsheathe the knife slowly. Anger burned in your chest, white hot and red. You toyed with the knife between your hands, contemplating your odds against Mando.

Mando watches you. He sat as still as a statue. He can feel the anger rolling off you, you had a wild look in your eye. You looked every bit the dangerous bounty hunter who he’d come to know.

He raised his hands, palms open and towards you. “Udesii...calm down...I apologise. That was cruel of me.” You were still angry but you knew better than to try to fight Mando. Even with two beskar knives.

“He wasn’t a coward, Mando. He risked his life over and over to protect us.” Your voice was quiet and thick with sadness. “He risked everything to save my mother.”

“I am sorry….” Mando trailed off as you interrupted him, holding a finger up to stop him from talking.

“No you’re not. You reacted how any Mandalorian would. It is not the way.” Your tone was sharper. Of course Mando would have reacted like that. No Mandalorian abandons his clan. No Mandalorian shows their face.

“Still he was your father.” Mando sat back against the wall, legs stretched in front of him. He crossed his arms across his chest. Silence washes over the ship again.

You start to vigorously clean the other knife, wiping the cloth up and down the blade in fast but rhythmic strokes. Usually this process would help calm you down, help to erase any stress but not this time. You could see a slither of your reflection in the blade, your eyes were glassy with angry tears and your cheeks looked flushed. You chewed on your bottom lip. You blinked back the tears in your eyes, refusing to cry anymore in front of Mando.

“How much Mando’a do you know?” His gruff voice broke the silence again.

“A small amount.” You forced yourself to meet the emotionless gaze of the visor. You wished you could see his face. “My dad only ever used it in small phrases.” Mando nodded.

“How did he die?”

“He was a rebel fighter. From Alderaan.” You took a deep breath. “He got killed in the clone wars.” Mando stayed silent for a moment, helmet slightly tilted to one side.

“And your mother?”

“Dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. She was ill. Nothing could help her.” You smiled weakly. “She was a wonderful woman but I’m glad she is no longer suffering.”

“The rest of your family?”

“Dead. They were killed when Alderaan was destroyed. My mother and I had left to find a healer.” You huffed out a short, callous, laugh. “Some tragic backstory huh? What about you Mando?”

“Parents dead. I was saved by Mandalorians. I became a foundling and now I’m here.” His answer was abrupt and emotionless.

“We’re more alike than I thought.” You smiled sadly at Mando. The angry tension between you both faded. Mando’s shoulders visibly relaxed as you placed the other knife back in it's sheath. You waited a bit before asking him another question. “Have you ever taken your helmet off?”

“Never.” His reply was short, not cold, but short enough to signal he didn’t want to discuss further. He got up, armor chinking softly. “Get ready. We’ll be landing in an hour.”

You went to get up, legs buzzing from lack of use, and you staggered forward. Mando steadied you, his gloved hand was warm through the sleeves of your top. You blushed, a different kind of warmth spread through you. “Oh...thanks.” He nodded but didn’t release his grip on your arm.

The ship jolted, dropping out of hyperspace, catching you off guard. You fell into Mando’s chest. You braced your hands against his beskar chest plate. His hands moved to hold the tops of your arms. You looked up at him, craning your neck to meet his visor. Neither of you went to move, choosing to stand still watching each other. One with wide eyes, the other hidden behind a mask. Your heart was beating fast, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“I really am sorry about your father, and your mother. I shouldn’t have said those things.” Mando’s voice was soft and quiet. You two were so close you could just make out the baritone of his actual voice. You felt something tug deep inside you. Oh maker.

“It’s okay.” Your voice was a breathy whisper. Your cheeks felt hot under the unwavering stare of the visor. “I… uh…” you trailed off, unsure of where you wanted to take that sentence.

Mando cocked his head to one side. You were sure he was studying your face. Again you wished you could see past the helmet.

Mando moved one of his hands, slowly sliding it up your neck. You held your breath, not wanting to move an inch and break the spell. The warm leather of his glove stroked across your skin sending shivers down your spine. Mando let his hand tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, softly tugging. You let out a small gasp. Mando lowered his head slowly toward you.

The cool beskar of the helmet is what you registered first. It was icy compared to your flushed skin. You jumped slightly, before relaxing. A Keldabe kiss. You closed your eyes, and allowed yourself to lean into him. You let out a shaky breath. You lifted one of your hands from his chest and rested it gently against the side of his helmet. You opened your eyes and stared into the darkness of the visor. You wanted to see his eyes. You wanted to see him.

The touch was innocent enough. No more than a friendly Mandalorian greeting, but it was so much more than that for you. You never wanted to move. Mando’s thumb was stroking up and down the side of your neck, coaxing the muscles to relax.

Mando moved first. Lifting his head and moving his hand from the back of your neck to cup your cheek. He softly ran his thumb over your cheekbone. Oh Maker…. Whatever fondness you had for the Man who saved your life had just tipped over a metaphorical cliff edge into a full blown crush. And you hadn’t even seen his face.

Mando broke away first. Stepping away from you, dropping his arms to his sides. His helmet looking to the floor. “We need to land.”

“Do you want me to fly?” He shook his head, he was about to speak but you cut him off. “Let me fly. I’ll quickly get ready and then you can sort the kid out.”

Mando’s head tilted to watch you, considering your offer. A low came grumble from the helmet. “Fine. He needs to be fed.” With that he turned and disappeared up the ladder. You let your shoulders drop as he disappeared. You felt over exposed and emotional. With a long sigh you stripped off your clothes and stepped into the fresher. A quick, hot shower helped clear your head. Reluctantly you turned the water off, and walked back into the cool hull of the ship.

You bent down to your bag and pulled out your winter clothes. This next bounty was hiding out on Maldo Kreis. Thankfully Mando had made you buy winter clothes when you’d been on Coruscant for a different bounty. You got dressed into your underwear, chucking the towel in the direction of the ‘fresher.

You were sitting in your underwear in the cot tugging on some thick socks when Mando descended the ladder from the cockpit. He stopped when he saw how little you were wearing.

“Sorry!” Came the modulated voice.

“It's fine...er.. could you turn around please?” Mando turned away from you, and you jumped down out of the cot, turning to grab your thick, fur lined leggings.

“He should be in the tavern in town.”

“Okay, is he alone?” You pulled on an undershirt, tucking it into your leggings.

“No. I don’t think he will be.”

“Great. And he’ll definitely be in the tavern?”

“I hope so. I don’t want to trawl this stupid ice planet.” You laughed. Mando hated all extremes of temperatures.

“Neither.” You bent down to lace up your snow boots. You finished getting ready, strapping the knives to your thighs, and walked over to the ladder. Mando turned and watched you. You felt a small flash of warmth as his visor followed your movements across the hull. You smiled at him.

“Where’s the kid?”

“Asleep. I’ll lock him in the ship.” You nodded and climbed the ladder and opened the door to the cockpit.

The little green gremlin child of Mando’s was inches from pressing a button on the console when you stepped over the threshold into the cockpit.

“Don’t touch that! Come here trouble!” The kid froze in place, turning its big eyes around to you. You gathered him into your arms, just as tears started to form. “Oh no baby, it's okay. I’m not angry.” His little mouth quivered so you cuddled him closer, Mando would probably kill you if you made the kid cry.

Settling the kid back in his chair, you sat in the pilot seat. Maldo Kreis loomed in front of the cockpit window, a formidable icy planet. You tapped in the coordinates to the only big town on the planet, hoping that would be where your bounty is hiding.

As you sat in the chair, your mind was in a whirl. What had Mando meant by that? It was so soft and affectionate. You tucked your legs up on the chair.

The keldabe kiss was a sign of affection between couples. You frowned. You weren’t a couple. You wracked your brain for more information on the Mandalorian greeting but couldn’t come up with anything useful. The way Mando touched you left butterflies in your stomach, and a wetness between your thighs. The gentle caress of his leather clad fingers turned you on more than you were willing to admit.

Flicking a few more switches on the dashboard of the ship, you began the descent into the atmosphere. Frost began to appear on the edges of the windows as you descended. Maldo Kreis’ landscape was mountainous and rocky. Snow covered every inch of the planet and there were barely any trees or vegetation. Flying low to the ground you found a place to conceal the ship. Mando liked to land the ship away from towns if he could. It helped with protecting the kid. It was only a small ridge of rocks but it would hide the ship from the harsh winds that whipped around the planet. You lowered the Crest as gently as you could, the old ship groaning and creaking as the landing gear came out. Once down you powered down the engines but kept the heating system running. The kid would freeze otherwise.

The door to the cockpit opened with a soft hiss, and Mando walked in all decked out in his armor. The kid babbled at him incoherently as Mando scooped him out of his seat. You double checked the ship's security systems, before slipping out of the chair, following the Mandalorian down the ladder.

Mando was settling the kid in the cot when you jumped off the ladder, swaddling him in blankets. You watched him take care of the child, smiling softly at how gentle Mando was with him. “I’ve left the heating on.”

“Thank you.” Mando didn’t turn to look around at you, but his voice was affectionate. You blushed. You could hear the kid babbling away to Mando, and low mumbles of Mando talking back. You felt your heart squeeze watching them both.

Turning to the weapons cupboard, you slipped on your knife belt, and sheathed your knives into the holders. Mando soon appeared by your side, as you contemplated taking a blaster, staring into his extensive collections of weapons.

“Here. Take this one.” He reached in and passed you a small blaster. You took it carefully, double checking the safety, before tucking it into the waistband of your leggings.

You walked back to your bag on the floor, pulling out your warm fur lined coat. Tying your hair up in a ponytail, you shrugged the coat on, the soft fur tickling the back of your neck. “Are you ready?” You asked Mando, as you pulled on some gloves. He nodded.

The kid sat in the cot, covered in warm blankets. You smiled at him, both placing a soft kiss on the top of his head. “Be good, little one!” He smiled up at you, little hands making grabbing motions at you. You gave him your finger to hold, as Mando said goodbye. You chuckled at the image, two fearsome bounty hunters saying cute goodbyes to the big eared green creature who you both adored.

Mando clicked a button on his vambrace, and the cot door slid shut with a click. “Let’s go.” He walked towards the ramp, clicking another button to lower it. Freezing cold air rushed into the hull, so you pulled the hood of your jacket up over your head, fastening a button to keep it in place.

Mando strode off the ramp, with you scurrying behind him. He still didn’t quite realise that you had to walk two steps for every one of his. Stepping off the ship, you were blinded by the bright white light of the snow. You held your hand up to your face to shield your eyes. You could only see white snow for miles. The ramp creaked and groaned behind you as it closed, a lot louder than normal in the dead quiet of the snow. The wind was blowing into your face, the cold making your eyes sting and water.

“Town is ½ a mile that way.” You gestured to the right a bit. “I saw it as I landed.” Mando started to walk in that direction. You walked behind him, using his body to shield you from the wind. The untouched snow crunched beneath your feet. You smiled remembering a memory of snow fights with your dad as a kid.

Bending down quickly you gathered a handful of snow into one gloved hand, compacting it into a ball with the other. You glanced up. Mando was still walking ahead of you, unaware of your plans.

Splat!

The snowball hit the Mandalorian square in the back. You giggled as he turned to face you, the dark gaze of the visor studying you. “Did you… just throw a snowball at me?”

You froze. Oh no. Mando was so serious, you didn’t know if he’d even understand what a snowball fight is. You hang your head, and mumble a yes.

Because you’d hung your head, you didn’t see him lean down and grab a handful of snow, until it hit you square in the chest. The force of his throw, making you stumble.

“Ooof…. hey!” You laughed. You reached down and grabbed another handful, lobbing it back at his head. It hit his shoulder.

“Missed.” Came the low rumble of his voice, and it sounded like he was laughing. “Come on, lets keep going.” He turned and walked on. You jumped after him, jogging slightly to catch up.

“I didn’t know Mandalorians did snowball fights.”

“Good target practice.” You grinned at him, happy that he indulged your little game.

The town soon loomed into view. Mando paused, taking out the bounty puck. A faint red light was flashing, and the ever familiar beeping could be heard. “Hopefully he’s still here.”

“There’s nothing for miles.” You add, trying to remember the landscape around the town. “The east side of the town has a port, and then it's just mountain ridges and flat tundra for miles and miles.”

The town walls are dark and crumbling, no guards are at the outpost, so you both saunter into the main square. There’s not much in town, it's small and half abandoned after being favoured by smugglers. The smell of smoke is heavy in the air, and you could see fires flickering in the windows of some of the houses. The streets were covered in a grey/blown slush from people walking through to the only tavern in town. Mando checked the bounty puck, it was blinking softly. So he’s here somewhere.

Mando paused a little way down the street. “I need you to go in first. Scout the area, and let me know.” He handed you the earpiece comms link. You slipped it on. “Can you hear me?”

His voice sounded in your ear, deep and rich. You felt a flash of warmth pool in your stomach. Oh maker…. You nodded your head, trying to clear your head. You’ve used the comms link a lot, and each time you have the same reaction to his voice. “Good. Go on in, I’ll wait here.”

You slip inside the tavern, the stark contrast of temperature brings a small flush to your cheeks. You tip your hood back, just enough so you can see, but not enough to take it off and expose the comms. The bar of the tavern was softly lit by candles, and a big hearth fire blazed in the centre. Pots of chowder bubbled away as they hung over the fire, a Mythrol cook was standing close by, wearing an apron smeared with food.

You walked over to the bar, assessing the rest of the tavern. Groups of people sat huddled around tables. A pair of Dyplotid’s glanced in your direction as you came in but they went back to their cards. The barkeeper smiled as you walked in.

“Ah...hello. What can I get you?” His voice was gravelly, his skin old and weathered.

“Just a mintea. It’s cold.” He let out a chuckle.

“First time here?”

“Hmm, yes. Didn’t realise it’d be this cold.” You pulled out a bar stool and settled in, resting your arms on the table. The barkeeper placed a mug of mintea down in front of you. You wrap your hands around it, the heat permeating through the gloves.

“What brings you here?”

“I needed to rest. I’ve been flying for a while. I’m on my way back to Coruscant.” The lie slipped easily off your tongue. It was nice to be off the ship. Maldo Kreis was in the outer rim, and the journey to here had been long. Longer than you had anticipated. Especially as Mando’s ship doesn’t do anything above hyperdrive, which although fast is still slow in comparison to your old ship.

He nodded and then turned to chat to one of the other patrons who had come up to the bar. You took another glance around the room. You couldn’t see anyone who resembled the bounty.

The comms link crackled in your ear, and Mando’s soft voice filled your head. “Are you going to sit at the bar all day while I freeze out here?” You can hear the amusement in his voice. You glanced out to your right to the window, you could see him leaning against the wall outside. His pauldrons and helmet were covered in a light dusting of snow. You smirked.

You tap your chest twice, just above your heart. It was a signal you and Mando had come up with to signify that an area was safe without having to use words. Mando pushed himself off the wall and walked into the tavern.

More people looked up when he walked in. Larger than life, and in a full suit of armor, he commanded attention. He glanced over at you before walking to a booth at the back of the room. The bartender’s eyes followed him as he moved.

“A Mandalorian.” He said, not to anyone in particular. Then he glanced at you. “A friend of yours?” You shrugged, not wanting to give anything away. He laughed, a deep throaty laugh.

You smiled at him, relaxing a bit now Mando was inside. Mando would contact you if he needed you. “How long have you been here?” You took a sip of your mintea, the warmth of the hot liquid spreading in your body.

“All my life. Never left.” You raised your eyebrows, you couldn’t imagine a life stuck on one planet. “Haha, not everyone gets to travel the galaxy girl.”

“Some people need to hold down the fort at home.” He nodded at that.

“Exactly. Who will take care of all the lonely, single travelers if I don’t?” His voice was soft, and he looked you up and down. You met his eyes, they were dark and glittering under hooded eyelids.

You took another sip of your drink. When he spoke again, his voice was different. It was harsher than before. “So I’ll ask again, what really brings you out here?”

“I told you. A rest stop on my way back home.”

“Nothing to do with that Mandalorian over there?” He lifted his chin, gesturing to the back of the tavern, to the secluded corner Mando had placed himself in.

You shook your head instead of answering. He raised an eyebrow. “Hmm, I don’t believe you. He hasn’t stopped staring in this direction since he entered.”

You feel a blush creep into your cheeks, just as a knot of anxiety coils in your stomach. Something is wrong. You smile at the barkeeper. “Can’t blame him for staring.”

You place the mug back on the table, and move one of your hands down to your leg. You tapped your knee twice with your thumb. Another little signal to Mando. You then lift your hand and fish into your pockets for some credits. “Thanks for the drink.” You chuck them down and start to slide off the stool.

The barkeeper keeps his eyes on you. You notice the Dyplotids’ raising out of their chairs. Shit. Shit. Shit. You curse internally for letting yourself be fooled. You remain calm, tugging your hood up over your head, pretending to be getting ready to leave. You turn to flash a smile at the barkeeper. He watches you, eyes flickering to you and then the Dyplotid’s behind you.

“They’re following you.” Came the low voice of Mando in your ear again. You make no movement to acknowledge his voice as you walk out onto the street. “There’s an alley to your left. I’ll follow in a minute.”

You spot the alley. It’s darker than the Main Street but not enough to hide in. Dammit. You slip into it regardless, hearing footsteps crunching on the snow slush behind you. You keep walking. Where is Mando? The alley comes to an abrupt end with the outer wall of the town looming above you. You stop and turn.

You were met with the faces of the Dyplotids. Four eyes each stare down at you, dark and angry.

“Who are you?” One hisses.

“A nobody.” You reply, praying that Mando appears soon.

“Some nobody being friends with a Mandalorian.” The other speaks.

“What do you want?” You glare back at them. If you acted quickly you’d probably be able to take them. Your fingers twitch, brushing the hilt of your knives.

Before they could answer, two blaster shots rang out. The Dyplotids fell forward, two giant burning holes in their backs. You glance up to the top of the alley. Mando was standing there, lowering his blaster.

“Let’s go. He’s not here.” His voice came through the comms link. You walked over to him, while he waited for you. His visor fixed on you. He held out the puck. The light was off and it was silent.

“Thank you for saving me.” You looked up into the dark visor.

“You’re welcome.” You could hear the modulated voice, and the deep rumble of his real voice in your ears. You stared at him, transfixed at his voice. He let out a small snort. Arrogant dick was probably smirking under the mask. You shook your head, trying to shake yourself out of your delusions.

“What now?” You sidestepped him and started to walk down the street. Mando fell into step beside you.

“We need intel on where he could be. I am not traipsing the whole planet.” His voice was only coming through the comms link. Practically you knew it was to help maintain a low profile, but subconsciously you hoped he never stopped, you could listen to him all day.

“There is a port with landspeeders for hire?”

“Too expensive.”

“Well it's either that or walk.”

“He won't be far from the town. There’s nothing for miles.”

“That’s what you think. There might be something out there and we won't find it on foot.” Mando was often too stubborn. “I say we go to the port. Leave it to me.”

Mando gazed down at you, you folded your arms across your chest. You could be stubborn too, and you had a plan.

“Fine. But you pay.”

“Fine.” You looked around for a sign to the port.

“It's left.”

“I know.” You huffed.

The walk to the port was short. You didn’t see any other townsfolk, which was odd considering the altercation back at the tavern. Maybe people are scared?

A ferryman stood next to a couple of old landspeeders. You could hear Mando mumbling about a waste of money in your ear. You ignored him.

The ferryman looked up. “What can I do yous for?” He grunted.

“I’d like to hire a landspeeder.”

“Yeah. And where are you going with it?”

“I fail to see how that’s your business?” You questioned back.

“Hurrmph.” Came the grunted reply. “My ‘speeders, my business.”

“You can’t argue with that logic.” Mando’s voice rang in your ear. You wanted to elbow him, but thought better of it. You looked back at the ferryman, he was another Mythrol. His blue skin barely visible through his hood.

“I need to see Salvius.” Might as well go big or go home.

“What if he don’t wanna see you?”

“He’s expecting us.” You swallowed. You felt Mando stiffen beside you.

“Oh is he? What does he want from you?”

“Now that is none of your business.” You quip back dryly. You could feel that coil of anxiety growing in your stomach. What if he’s bluffing and just takes you into the middle of nowhere?

“It's gonna cost ya.”

“Name your price.” Mando huffed next to you.

“1000 credits.” You balk at the price.

“No. 550 and that’s it.” Panic tinged your voice. Shit.

“750. Or no landspeeder.”

You caught Mando’s hand moving to his blaster holstered on his hip. Please don’t do it.

“I suggest you take what the lady offers.” Came the soft hiss from the helmet. The Mythrol stared at the Mandalorian.

“Or what?” Mando didn’t give him the courtesy of an answer before he blew a hole in the centre of his chest with the blaster. You jumped with the loudness of the bang.

“FUCK MANDO!” You cried as the ferryman's’ body crumpled to a heap on the floor.

“I didn’t trust him.”

“No shit!” Your heart was pounding. Mando whipped round to glare at you.

“Your plan was stupid.” A small twinge of anger hit your chest.

“At least I had a plan.” You spat back.

Mando stared at you for another second before bending down to grab the landspeeder keys from the Mythrols’ belt. He jumped into the closest one, starting the engine. You clambered in after him. He placed the puck on the dashboard, using it as a sort of navigator.

Mando drives fast. Probably too fast. The cold air whooshed around the vehicle, chilling the exposed parts of your face. You hunker down in the seat. Mando’s helmet dipped towards you, before turning back to face the land ahead. His hands pushed a few buttons on the landspeeders dashboard and hot air was suddenly blowing into your face. The small gesture was sweet, and your heart skipped a beat.

“I forget you feel the cold more than me.” His voice was sympathetic.

“Thanks.” You were going to make a comment about how you don’t have a beskar'gam, or iron skin, to protect you but you left it.

The landspeeder sped over the flat snow, mountains rising up on your left. You were travelling further and further away from the ship. A small pang of guilt tugged your heart at the kid being all alone.

A red light caught your eye. The puck was flashing.. “Stop!” You grabbed Mando’s sleeve.

“What?” He slowed the landspeeder.

“The puck!” You scanned the area. A small glint of light caught your eye. “There up on the ridge.”

Mando turned to look. You knew he was scanning the area through his visor.

“Do you see anything?”

He grunted in acknowledgment. “There’s a group of people.” You strained to see what he was seeing, but your eyes couldn’t make out anything against the snow.

“Do you think they’ve seen us?”

“Definitely.” Mando started the landspeeder again. “They have the higher ground. We can’t get to them until nightfall.” You glanced up at the sky, the clouds were so thick you couldn’t make out the sun.

Mando zoomed over towards an outcrop of rocks and hid the speeder behind it. He kept the engine running. “We’ll have to wait here.”

“We’ll stick out like sore thumbs.” You gestured to your dark snow clothes, and his dark grey beskar.

“That's why we’re waiting. We’ll be more disguised in the snow at night.”

“What about heat sensing?”

“I have a plan.” You snorted. Great. You settled back into the seat, tucking your knees up. Might as well rest for a bit.

When you woke up your face was pressed against Mandos' right pauldron. You blinked in the dark. There was some sort of pressure on your leg, on the inside of your knee. You glance down, Mando’s leather clad hand resting there. It was so casual, the way it was draped over your knee, giving you better access to his arm to sleep on. Mando felt you stir.

“Are you awake?” He squeezed your knee, so softly that you weren’t even sure it happened.

You hummed a response, lifting your head from his shoulder. The landscape was dark around you, barely any light from the moons filtered through the clouds. Mando lifted his hand, making it easier for you to sit up. “They’re still up on the ridge.” You glanced up, you could make out a soft glow of orange. “They lit a fire.” Mando confirmed your thoughts.

“How many?”

“A few.”

You exhaled softly. “Think it's Salvius?”

Mando shrugged. “Potentially.”

“What’s the plan?”

The plan, as it turned out, was for you to roll in snow to reduce your heat flare. Mando apparently didn’t because ‘his armor doesn’t get warm, or show up on infrared.’ You didn’t quite believe him but felt like starting an argument about it was worthless. The second phase of the plan, after Mando shoved snow down the back of your top a little too zealously, was to sneak up to the ridge and scout out the people.

You were shivering as Mando led the way towards the ridge through the snow. You stuck close to his back, head down, following his fresh footprints in the snow.

As you walked you let your mind wander. Something has changed between the pair of you. Sure Mando has touched you before, he’s helped with injuries or fastening up jackets but the past few touches felt different. They felt softer, kinder, more personal than the other times he’s touched you. And the keldabe kiss? What does that mean?

You were so lost in thought you didn’t see Mando stop, and you collided into his back.

“Watch where you're going.” He mumbled.

You looked around. The landscape was dark and grey, the sky was also dark and grey, and the man you were following was dressed in dark grey colours. You could just about see your feet. Mando carried on walking. The terrain beneath your feet got steeper, and more icy. You must be nearing the top of the ridge. Mando held his arm out, you stopped. His visor was fixated on the campfire.

“Somethings wrong.” He murmured.

“What?”

“There’s more than I thought.”

You glanced across at the campfire. The hike up the ridge had gotten you pretty much level with the campfire, although you were about 200m to the right of it. You couldn’t make out individual shapes, just a dull orange glow.

“The fire is low.” Mando nodded next to you.

“They have lots of boxes. A land cruiser as well.” He glanced around, and then at the puck strapped to his chest. The red light was blinking. “This will be them.”

You looked around you, trying to make out surroundings. You and Mando were on a rocky ridge that jutted out from the main ridge line. A steep cliff fell away in front of you, the bottom of it cloaked in darkness. The campfire sat on another ledge. To get there you’d have to climb.

“Is it worth it?” You were only asking due to the landscape. Neither of you had an advantage here. If anything it was a foolish mission.

“Yes.” The response was abrupt.

A noise to your left, caused your heart to race. You froze as Mando whipped his head around. A voice sounded in your ear. “They’re behind us.” No shit.

“Have they seen us?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

Mando didn’t get a chance to respond before a blaster shot rang out, narrowly missing your head. Mando pulled you close to him. “Stay close.”

You pulled the blaster out of your waistband, quickly clicking the safety off. You couldn’t see anything. The clouds were thinning slightly but they were still covering the moon.

Another blaster shot rang out, you hid behind Mando. You felt one of his hands wrap around and rest on your hip, keeping you close. He lifted his blaster up and fired off into the dark.

You heard a few cries as he shot a few people. Mando staggered backwards as a shot hit his breastplate. He let out a low groan at the force. Blaster shots were ringing out all around you. You fired aimlessly into the dark, praying that you hit someone.

You glanced up at the sky again, a gap was appearing in the clouds, faint moonlight filtering through. You looked around Mando, 12 people stood blasters firing at the pair of you. You aimed and got two of them, they fell down with a thump. A blaster shot whistled past your head, and you ducked back behind Mando.

The clouds parted and the moonlight shone down onto the ground. You aimed your blaster again, hitting 3 more people in the chest.

You fired your blaster again, but before you could pull the trigger, searing pain ignited on your leg. You looked down. A shot had just skimmed your thigh leaving a burning hole in your leggings and melting the leather of your knife holder. Your flesh was burnt and blistered. The pain took your breath away, and you cried out. Gritting your teeth you fired back in the direction of the shot, before falling to the ground groaning. The moon disappeared again, plunging you back into darkness.

Mando ran over to you, shielding you with his body again as you quickly packed snow onto the wound, trying to numb the pain. The blaster shots were becoming less and less frequent, until they stopped altogether.

Mando spun round and dropped to his knees. “Are you okay?”

“My leg….” you groaned. You didn’t want to be a baby but, stars, it hurt. Mando’s hands fluttered carefully over the wound, unfastening your knife holder and peeling your burnt leggings away. You hissed in pain.

“Sorry. I have to get a better look.” You clenched your hands into a fist, digging your nails into the palm of your hand. Mando placed a hand on your knee, to stop you twitching whilst he got a better look. “It doesn’t look deep. We need to…”

Before Mando could finish his sentence another shot rang out, hitting him square in the back. He fell forward onto you with the force of the blow, crushing your leg under his armor. You cried out in pain. Mando pushed himself off, whipping around, blaster drawn and firing behind him.

Moonlight lit the ridge up, illuminating the bodies of the attackers. Blaster shots rang out, the noise echoing off the rocks. You turned over onto all fours, pain stabbing through you. Breathing deeply you stood up on shaky legs, grabbing your knife from the floor. This time the assailants pressed closer, moving towards you and Mando.

Once up you pulled out your other knife. Waves of pain throbbed through your leg. But before you could adjust your balance, a blaster came crashing down into the side of your shoulder, knocking you back to the floor. You rolled with the movement, before springing up as fast as you could. You hit out with one of your knives at your attack, managing to cut his shoulder. He hissed, and pulled out a dagger, lunging at you. You sidestepped his movement, and he fell slightly, off balanced. You took the opportunity to jump on top of him, knife sinking into the side of his neck. Easy. He tried to grab you as you both fell back into the snow, but his strength quickly faded. Ripping the knife out you turned, just as another man lurched towards you.

You rolled out of his way, narrowly avoiding his weapon. Jumping up again you stand ready to attack. He turns and jabs out at you with a knife. You dodge it, before diving in to stab at his exposed chest. Your knife glances off his rib cage, leaving a small cut through his clothes. A hand grabs your wrist as you pull back, pulling you to him. He twists one of your arms behind your back, the muscles in your shoulder screaming at the angle. You kick upwards with your boot, colliding your heel with his balls. He bends over, loosening his grip just enough for you to wriggle out. He tries to pull you back but you stab him in the arm, just enough for him to release his grip entirely. His eyes shine with anger as he glares at you, before running towards you, knife out. You duck to the side and swipe his legs out from under him. He falls into a heap, and you leap on top of him, yanking his head up. You slit his throat. You feel him shudder beneath you as he bleeds out. You stand up, leg shaking with pain.

Your victory is short lived. Turning around you’re met with three faces. They stalk towards you, and you scurry backwards. One goes in for a jab and you block and catch his chest with the edge of your knife, just as another dives at you. You step backwards.

You hadn’t realised how far you’d gotten to the edge of the cliff. As you step backwards you feel ice and rock crumbling away from beneath your feet. You glance back at the men inching towards you, and then towards Mando who was fighting off 4 men. You don’t see until it's too late. One man steps forward and shoves you. With nothing to catch your fall you slip. You cry out. You can hear Mando screaming your name.

You’re weightless as you fall through the air. You hit the ground with force, for a split second all you can feel is pain, and then everything is silent and dark.

#the mandalorian #mando x reader #mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din dijarin x reader #din dijarin fanfiction #din x reader

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bookersebastien · 4 years ago

Note

since I love your headcanons/meta (if you're up to it) can I have your thoughts on the guard + fashion

andy

Andy probably has a pretty complicated relationship with fashion, like i think she does with most things in the modern world given the fact that it’s only a tiny spec of her lifetime

She’s spent her life watching thousands upon thousands of fashion trends come and go and was alive during the creation of many fabrics themselves

She’s been a warrior her entire life, we may not know the manner of her first death (or at least not from the movies) but we know she’s spent most of her life as an immortal fighting, both before and after she met quynh

Fashion for her was always at the very least comfortable and flexible, something she could travel and fight in without a moment’s notice

But to some extent how she looks, her image is a very important aspect of her, especially in the earlier part of her life

She was a famed fighter for so long, earning her name “fighter of man”, there were probably stories told of her and quynh, warrior women who no one can defeat, her clothing at that time at least semi reflected that, she wanted to be seen as “unbreakable” as she says in the movie

She had probably minimal armor, after all she doesn��t need it technically and would only prefer it to have less healing time if she took on less damage, but her clothing showed exactly who she was, every bit the warrior

As practical as she is, who she appears to be is still probably very much still tied to her identity, she may not be known anymore and doesn’t even want to be for the sake of their safety but her clothes are not just strictly practical, rather than be the warrior of myth she has now become a warrior of the modern age, a warrior of the shadows

Her clothes still reflect her younger self, the famed warrior, just scaled back and modernized. She wears calf-high boots, arm braces and fitted clothing in all black she cuts quite and imposing figure and that’s what i think she wants. She doesn’t necessarily use it to intimidate others, as her younger self may have done, this time her clothing is now to make her still feel powerful, a reflection of who she is now: skilled and deadly, ready at a moments notice to protect those she loves

While jeans and a tank top is a perfectly normal outfit, with the boots and braces you’d do a double take, wondering who she was, but it’s meant to blend in just enough but if you look closely enough at how tight the boots are laced and her posture, tank top carefully tucked in you’d start to wonder

I think she does actually like fashion, she’s seen so much of it and she probably sees things that remind her of something she saw hundreds of years ago, like seeing trends pop up again and it fills her with nostalgia. It reminds her of when she was in love with humanity, loved seeing what people created and invented and when she truly believed in their cause

But things definitely changed after quynh was thrown in the ocean, just had a less of desire and the clothes probably reminded her of quynh, what’d she’d wear and what she’d get for andy to wear and as modern times came around she stuck to stuff that was more practical, still a little fashionable, but stuff that could be worn doing anything from sleeping to fighting

I think her clothing in the movie, mostly black, reflects who she is as this time: a powerful and strong warrior who’s also afraid, she’s afraid that she spent her life fighting for something that doesn’t matter but also (pre-nile) afraid of what she’s going to do now that she said the world could burn - what does a 6,000+ immortal warrior do then?

booker

Booker is not unfashionable, and while his relatively apathetic and cynical nature might make you think fashion isn’t something he would care about, i think he does

He isn’t like joe who would go the extra step to make an outfit more aesthetically pleasing, but also he isn’t as super practical as nicky (he keeps his gun in his pants for fuck’s sake)

Booker is tired and wants to feel normal, to feel his humanity that he feels is slipping away from him even though it’s already been 200 years - he’s still adjusting and that’s because he never wanted this and still doesn’t completely accept this is his life now (hence at least a partial reason for his betrayal)

But i don’t booker is one to make too much of a fuss about what he’s wearing, he wants simple clothing that won’t make him look out of place, especially since he was the one who met with copley for that previous mission maybe he is the one who scouts missions as their seemingly resident computer person

So he goes for what a lot of people do: classic pieces of clothing in selection of relatively neutral colors that all work together. In their life it’s important to have clothes at the ready, both in their bags and at their safehouses and i’d bet at least most of his stuff would work together with no issues

Aside from the tac outfit of course, he mainly wears an assortment of jeans, boots, button downs and leather jackets in mostly blacks and grays with a couple faded blues and greens - any of these can be thrown on without an issue, it looks like a complete outfit and nothing about how he’s dressed is any way going to attrract attention

Plus this man doesn’t care enough about himself to make him look good rather than just being fine with what he has, he wants to die and doesn’t allow himself to feel the love he has from his family, dressing up to him isn’t going to add anything or make anything better

So in the sequel i’d love to see him deal with his pain and his betrayal head on and who knows maybe joe will buy him some zipper pants too and maybe booker will actually like them

nicky

Nicky is the other more practical one other than andy, but he lacks her attempt at keeping at appearances/empowerment

The majority of movies he’s wearing plain t-shirts and regular jeans with dad jackets, the only slightly impractical fashion choice being his hoodie from the tac outfit, which it does cover him up completely and allows him to cover his face more if needed but also it’s hot (i also like that post comparing the hoodie to the crusader’s chainmail helmet)

But nicky in essence is practical, he’s the protector of the group, always watching and always on the edges, he doesn’t care much i think for what he wears as long as it allows him to do his job

Yes of course he participated in fashions over the years, and will wear things joe picks out for him and occasionally what he picks out for himself, but that stuff is not for when there is a mission, not when people need help

But i think he usually gravitates towards simple like andy, something to run and fight in but he lacks andy’s past of fame, reverence, and notoriety (at least in the way she had it - he did fight in the crusades after all) so his clothing isn’t to do anything for him but to act as clothing, it holds no mental power over him, he has no image to project - he’s done so much that he wants to help people and protect his family and that’s it

I don’t think growing up in genoa before the crusades lent itself to that many fashion opportunities and while we aren’t sure of his exact status, i don’t think any of the guard were particularly wealthy (except possibly yusuf as the son of merchants) and being a priest at the time i’m sure didn’t make him wealthy in his adulthood either

And while he’s lived 900+ years, the way you grew up doesn’t just leave you, he was at least catholic, and i still think he holds his faith close, just in a different way now

Plus look at his tac outfit, the most comfortable looking (it is a hoodie after all) and he has half a dozen guns strapped to himself along with sword, he wants the ability to carry his things comfortably without impeding him in any way, he wants to be totally and completely prepared and is very much the typical dad in this sense, everything must be on hand so he can protect those he loves

Also you know this man owns cargo pants much to joe’s dismay

joe

we all know joe is the fashionable male among the guard, i mean the backwards baseball cap and the zipper pants? yeah

in his tac outfit, the hat really adds nothing to it besides aesthetic, it’s not shielding his eyes from the sun because he’s wearing sunglasses and it doesn’t aid him in any way during a fight unless he had decided to pull a booker and do “whatever works” and just like hit someone with it - it’s a purely aesthetic choice

but joe was the child of merchants and lived in an area with a rich history of colorful and beautiful fashion, the region was known for the lightweight fabrics and light silks that during the crusades, many were brought back to europe and astounded the europeans

i think that has stayed with joe, that complete appreciation and awe at the craft of making clothing and using clothing to show yourself and personality

joe is also a man of the arts, there was so much poetry and arts in the maghreb region, and while that existed in italy as well, nicky was a priest and probably wasn’t exposed to it much outside a religious context

joe is also an artist himself, he has such a grand appreciation for aesthetics and while clothing purely for aesthetics isn’t practical for the life they live unless they are on a break, he manages to infuse his clothing with his personality nonetheless

the backwards hat was fun, unnecessary but it also didn’t get in the way of his fighting. he probably just enjoyed the look (and i know we all did too) and the leather jacket with the hoodie and zippered pants at the end scene was just such an effortless cool look that was still practical but had a lot more personality and an attempted look™ than say nicky and his dad jacket

nile

most of what nile is wearing in the movie isn’t her choice of clothing, not that i don’t think she’d absolutely pick out that green bomber jacket but in the movie she wasn’t the one who picked it, it was packed for her

but the outfit she wears in the end is just like her, trendy and young and refreshing given that the rest of the guard sticks to their own styles they’ve been in the whole movie

but nile is the one who is most likely to branch out, she’s only in her late 20s and by her last scene in the movie it’s only been maybe a week or so since she became immortal, she hasn’t evolved a ‘be ready to fight’ kind of fashion and doesn’t have the hundreds of years of experience telling her to buy things that she can fight in as well as sleep in - now she was in the marines so to some extent but not with her own personal clothing choices

despite her chaotic introduction to being immortal, it won’t set in for a while that their lives are running from one danger to the next, taking breaks when they can, especially with andy’s renewed commitment to the job she and the others set out to accomplish, her clothing style will probably change as she settles into this new life

but we can see in her last scene, she is wearing comfortable clothing, a fitted shirt with a stylish yet somewhat more loose fitting jacket and looser pants (they look like joggers and i can’t completely remember if they are or not)

so while her clothes are comfortable, they are more fashionable than any of the others, and while this probably has lots to do with her age i think it’s very important to her current state of mind

she’s had the most insane weeks of her life, found out she’s not going to die for a very long time, found out there are others like her, and had to say goodbye to her family without seeing them again because she’s decided to stick with her new life

and this is a massive change for her, after being in the military for quite a few years, assuming she joined when she around 18-20 which i think she did enlist then especially given the fact that her dad passed when she was younger

life in the military is very controlled, so her having this sudden new gift but also this vast wide open future is probably terrifying to her, so much has changed so quickly, she hasn’t had the time to properly sort through how she’s feeling and truly realizing what this life means

her clothes are a reflection of one thing in her life she can currently control because she can’t control what’s going to happen in the world and where copley will find them a job or where they will be at any one time but she has control over herself so she dresses herself how she wants, how she’d dress if she was home

it’s some semblance of normality, some piece of herself that hasn’t changed and that she wants to express

quynh

while we don’t see quynh much besides in flashbacks and then in the final scene i think fashion is going to be something important to her

she spent 500 years drowning, unable to do anything, unable to save herself

nile said she was feeling insane and angry, quynh spent 500 years without an ounce of control over what was happening to her and regaining her life is something she is not going to take for granted

she’s going to live her life to the fullest, which includes wearing whatever she likes and wearing the colors she loves and the clothing that makes her feel beautiful and badass and powerful - a little like andy and a little like nile

it’s a huge part of her life she’s regained, clothing is something the whole world sees and part of how we perceive people and in a world that she doesn’t know at all she’ll want to craft herself an image because clothing is still one thing she can understand - the styles are all different but i have no doubts it’s something she took to quite quickly, having something she can control completely

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starlightsearches · 4 years ago

Note

Hux/reader ‘I’ve always loved you all of my life” friends to lovers? No rush btw! Take your time!

Of course, friend! Thanks for this request 🥰

Armitage Hux x GN Reader

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, mentions of death

Your fingers dig bruises into your skin where they press against your cheeks, but you ignore the pain, determined to stifle any stray noises. Hot tears pour from your eyes over your hand, stinging your skin every time you blink, but you can’t stop, regardless. It’s important to keep your vision clear. It’s important to listen for any sign of the intruders, who will certainly make there way to you at any moment.

There’s no time to mourn your friends now.

The blaster fire stopped a long time ago, but echoes of it still ring your ears so loudly you’re not sure if the footsteps you hear are a hallucination or not—until the door slides open, and you’re no longer alone.

Dead bodies move more than you do in this moment, muscles cramped and aching as you crouch behind the console, waiting for them to leave, waiting for a chance to run. The modulated voices grow louder—practically on top of you now; your lungs scream for one more breath, and you can’t fight the pain anymore.

You choke down a lungful of air between your fingers, and it comes back out as a sob. You know without looking that they’ve found you, and the fierce grip on your arm pulling from the confines of your hiding place confirms it.

It’s been years since you last saw a storm trooper this close, and it’s still not long enough. Like monsters from your nightmares, some of your earliest memories involve the troopers monitoring the halls of your father’s ship, just one sight of their inhuman masks quickens the pace of your heart.

“Don’t shoot,” you raise your arms, shielding your eyes from the blinding light and the stark white of their helmets, “I’m unarmed.”

The troopers—two of them—shift uneasily. Unfortunately, you’re telling the truth. If you had a weapon, they would be dead.

They’re not particularly gentle as they search and cuff you; you don’t expect them to be. Any kindness on there part now would only stoke the emptiness growing inside of you, and you couldn’t let that happen. You didn’t need kindness, you needed hope. And if you couldn’t have that, you’d get by just as well on fury.

You sit with your simmering anger, hardly listening as the troopers speak to each other in low whispers. You catch the most important parts: someone is coming, they’re looking for information, you’ll be the one to give it to them.

Not likely.

They’ve got you in their grasps, one at each elbow, but you ignore the feeling, planting your feet more firmly. Your breathing is hard and fast, lungs heaving in preparation. You’d do whatever it takes—fight, kick, scream, spit. You’d make them regret everything the moment they set eyes on you.

The door opens; you take one last chance to steel yourself. The troopers both salute their commander with their free hands.

When you look up from the ground, your heart stops, the fight gone from your body.

It’s him. The one person you couldn’t save.

Your stomach rolls, legs shaking—you feel like you might be sick. Time had been kind, blurring the startling detail of his features to a dull ache, but it’s all back now, twice as painful than it was before. That final goodbye plays through your mind, his features pained, the way his voice cracked as he begged you not to leave him. It was the first and only time you had seen him cry.

“Armitage,” his name falls from your lips in a pain-laden whisper, just as it did when you told him goodbye. His eyes flash with the same hurt—a fresh wound on an old scar.

Whatever passes between you stays there; the troopers stand at attention, waiting for their orders, and neither seem to notice that the world has been thrown out of orbit.

“We’ve apprehended this prisoner, sir. Should we stay for the interrogation?”

“Leave us,” his voice is strained, but the troopers do as he says. You’re alone with him for the first time since the last time.

He pauses, letting the silence linger. You keep your mouth shut.

“Did they hurt you?” His tone catches you off guard—certainly not warm, but softer than you had expected. It’s at odds with everything else about him, and everything that you had come to expect.

“No.”They had, of course. Your arms are still aching, probably bruised. And then there’s your friends to consider; probably bleeding out in the hallway.

But you don’t want to think about that.

“I-”

“I’m not telling you anything, so don’t bother asking. I’ll die first.” You sound braver than you feel, even with the way your legs shake. Was he willing to hurt you to get what he wanted?

“I’m not going to kill you,” he’s offended that you would even suggest it, features twisted in disgust before he smooths them over, and then there’s a pregnant pause, “it’s been a long time since we last spoke.”

“No shit. Forgive me if I don’t have much interest in playing catch up.” Your nerves are at a fever pitch, waiting for something to happen, but there’s nothing in the silence.

You had thought about seeing him again, before. Waited for the day he would find you, bruised and beaten but alive, and he’d try to apologize but you wouldn’t let him say anything. You’d pull him into your arms and he’d feel more like home to you than any base or star destroyer ever had.

It’s been a long time since you thought that way. You never meant to give up on him, but given the way things turned out, maybe you already had. Maybe you gave up on him the moment you decided to leave.

“Your father died, a few months after you left,” he paces, orbiting around you, with a fabricated indifference, but you feel the weight of his gaze, measuring the tension in your shoulders, the surprise that registers when you hear the news. He comes around back to the front, closer than before, close enough that you can see the secrets in his eyes.

“Good, and yours?” Your thoughts are a mess—flashes of memories punctuated by blind rage. Bruises staining his skin like paint, his blood smeared on your fingers while you stilled the tremors in his shoulders with your own shaking hands. After all those years, thinking about Brendol still makes you want to scream.

“He died as well, not long after.” You hope it was painful, that he suffered.

“It wouldn’t have brought me back, even if I had known,” it feels like a cruel truth, and you see the way it stings him, but it has to be said. You had never regretted leaving the First Order. You only regretted leaving him.

He nods, eyes flashing away from you, glassy tears catching the light before he blinks them away.

“So what happens now?”

He pulls the hem of his greatcoat back, reaching for the blaster on his hip, and you flinch before you can stop yourself. He keeps his eyes on you as he rotates it in his palm, extending it towards you, waiting for you to take it.

“You’ll need to hit me, hard enough to bruise. There are fewer guards on the eastern exit, if you make your way into the forest they won’t—”

“I’m not just going to run away.” Not without you. Not again. You push the blaster away, with both hands, and he flinches away from your touch, brows furrowed and eyes pained.

“Please,” he says pushing the weapon towards you again, ignoring your refusal, “I need to know that you’re safe, and that means you have to leave. I can’t guarantee your safety if you’re taken captive—”

“Then come with me.” You know by the way that he freezes that the suggestion floors him, but you refuse to budge, holding his wrist, keeping him close to you even though you feel him pulling away.

“You don’t— you can’t mean that,” years of pain line his face—hurt, rejection, the grief that comes with consistently being measured and never being enough.

“I do. Leaving without you was . . . I can’t do it again, come with me, or take me with you,” you plant your feet, determined. “I’m not going to lose you again.”

You tug at his wrist, turning to go, but he plants his feet, turning you back to face him, closer than before. His fingers trace over your cheek, the leather of his gloves cool against your skin. It’s been too long since he’s touched you like this. You’re surprised it’s just as you remember.

“I have always loved you, all of my life,” his gaze traces your features, years of lost love captured in the fractured green of his eyes. You’d stay like this if you could, caught up in the truth of him. No more mourning, no more lost love.

You’d spent too many years waiting for a chance to save him. You never expected that he’d be the one to save you.

#armitage hux/reader #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux fanfiction #armitage hux oneshot #general hux x you #general hux x reader #general hux oneshot #general hux fluff #my writing #requests #armitage hux/you #general hux/reader #general hux/you #general hux angst #armitage hux angst

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chadillacboseman · 4 years ago

Text

Blowing Off Steam

Pairing: Axe Woves x F!Reader

Warnings: Well, it’s Axe Woves lol, unprotected sex, smut, dirty talk, semi-public.

A/N: I’m sorry. I AM SO SORRY. This is just a little baby ficlet bc I found a picture of Simon Kassianides in grey sweatpants and as you all know I’m a stupid slut.

Word count: 1,849

The Mandalorian watched you from across the bar- his dark eyes taking you in over the rim of the glass he clutched in his gloved hand. You had noticed him, too, when you first arrived- your eyes drawn to his armor, and the distinctive Nite Owl helmet placed in front of him on the table.

Earlier, he had been flanked by two female Mandalorians, but they had since departed, leaving him to finish his drink at his leisure. The bartender, one of the few other humans in the bar, set a shot of spotchka out on the bar in front of you.

You glanced up, an eyebrow cocked- “I didn’t order this,” the bartender grinned, his crooked teeth gleaming in the dim light, “no, he did,” he nods toward the blue armored figure across the bar.

“What’s his story?” you ask, lifting the blue liquid to your lips and downing it in one swig. The bartender shrugs, “Dunno, him and the two others have been here for a few days. First Mandos we’ve had here in a long time. Maybe Mercs- they’ve got the equipment for it.”

You steal a glance at the Mandalorian- his eyes are already tuned to you, dark and unrelenting. He is indeed equipped like a mercenary- a blaster on each hip, and a jetpack on his back. You hold up the empty shot glass and nod, mouthing a “thank you” you hope he can see through the dark haze.

You return your attention to the front, hoping to catch the bartender’s eye and order another drink. Seldom did you get the chance to unwind in peace at a dive bar with good spotchka and minimal violence. Unfortunately, the bartender seemed to have engrossed himself in an argument with a nearby table- something about credits and an open tab.

It takes a moment for you to notice that the Mandalorian has moved to sit on the stool next to you- it’s only when you hear the soft clink of his helmet resting on the bar that you turn to see him. Up close, it’s hard to ignore his handsome features- his eyes are dark brown, nested above an aquiline nose, and his chin is covered in a light peppering of stubble.

The corner of his mouth is just slightly upturned as he speaks, “Hope you enjoyed the drink.” His voice is smooth, and there is a hint of an accent you can’t identify. “I did-” you stumble on your words for a moment, not sure of what to say, “..Thanks.”

The Mandalorian grins, clearly emboldened by your apparent embarrassment, “I’m Axe- and you are?” You consider him carefully for a moment, wondering if you can trust him. He cocks an eyebrow and laughs, “It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Is there something in particular you want?” your tone is even, but you can feel your face flush when he chuckles, barely a rumble in his chest. “Well, it’s not very often that I come here and see someone like you,”

you turn to look at him, but his expression is unreadable. “If you’re trying to proposition me, I’m not the type of woman you can buy a quick fuck from behind the bar.” Another chuckle, and he moves a little closer to you on his stool, “I never said you were.”

The bartender is back from his argument, his temper seeming to have faded with the acquisition of the credits he had been so heatedly demanding. Before you can welcome the distraction, Axe is speaking, “We’ll take another two snorts,” he sets his credits down on the bar and returns his attention to you. You feel your face heat again under his stare, “So, what are you? Mercenary? Bounty Hunter?” you are surprised at how nonchalant you’ve managed to sound- a small victory, given the circumstances.

If Axe is caught off guard by the question, he doesn’t show it, he merely shrugs, “I’m a Mandalorian.” You snort, “I can see that much, but what are you doing in this particular dive?” One of his gloved hands traces the curve of his helmet lazily as he considers his next words, “Preparing to return to Mandalore, hoping to blow off some steam in the meantime.”

Maybe it was the spotchka, or maybe it was just the aching longing for the touch of another that pushed you to your response, “And what exactly does a great Mandalorian warrior do to blow off steam?” Axe grins, his dark eyes glinting under the cantina lights, as the hand on his helmet moves to your thigh. You feel the twinge of arousal grow in the pit of your stomach as the grip of his leather-clad hand tightens.

“I can show you.”

The nights were always cold on Trask, as the winds carried in the damp ocean air over the port. Now that you stood out in the night, the scent of salted water filling your nostrils, you began to rethink your decision. You wonder, for a moment, if you could simply slip away into the dark streets- you doubt the Mandalorian would seek you out, but-

Before you can finish the thought, you feel the pressure of a hand on the small of your back. Axe’s helmet is back on, and he cuts an imposing figure, barely illuminated by the orange glow of the street lights. The pressure on your back pushes you gently toward the area behind the cantina; the alleyway is dark, and packed with discarded shipping containers.

Axe snakes an arm around you from behind and you hear the gentle hiss of his helmet’s release latch. The beskar connects with the stone street below with a gentle thud, and Axe’s mouth finds its way to your neck. The warmth of his lips leaving wet kisses and bites from your shoulder to your earlobe brings back the familiar heat of arousal deep inside you.

His arm around your waist moves away, and he snakes a gloved hand under the hem of your shirt. A moan stifles itself in your throat as the leather finds your nipple and gently brushes across it. He chuckles against your ear, the vibrations sending goosebumps erupting over your flesh. His hand leaves your breast and you let out a quiet whine at the loss of touch, “Don’t worry,” his voice is low, almost a whisper, as he pulls the gloves from his hands.

In an instant, his fingers find your breasts again, this time without the rough leather barrier between. You let out a quiet moan and push yourself back against him, the cool beskar of his chest piece a stark contrast to your body’s heat. One hand leaves your breast and moves to the waistline of your pants, snaking between your flesh and the fabric.

Axe moves as if he knows exactly what you want- his calloused fingers slipping gently into your folds and finding your clit. “Axe-” you cry his name as he works gentle circles on your clit, his fingers slick with your arousal.

His mouth again finds your ear, his stubble rough against your skin, “K’urr, mesh'la. We don’t want to get caught.” He works slowly, building you up, until you can no longer contain it, but always keeping you just shy of the edge. “Axe, please-” your voice is ragged, as you buck your hips into his hand. He grins against your neck and quickens the pace of his movements, his mouth now sucking dark bruises into your flesh.

You feel your climax building, threatening to erupt at any moment, as the Mandalorian’s fingers continue to push you toward your breaking point. Axe’s mouth on your earlobe is enough to finally send you over the edge, and your orgasm washes over you in waves.

For a moment, you feel as though your legs are going to give out, but you lean back against Axe’s armored chest for stability. The Mandalorian pauses for a moment, allowing you to catch your breath, then pushes you away gently.

You watch, as if in a trance, as he removes his belt and pulls his pants down just enough to reveal his length, throbbing and slick with precum. He situates himself on top of a discarded shipping crate, his back pressed against the wall of the cantina. He grasps your hips and pulls you closer, fumbling for a moment with the bindings of your pants, before pushing them down past your knees. You toe off your boots and step out of them carefully, and he motions for you to straddle him.

With one leg on either side of his, you lower yourself gently onto his cock, feeling it stretch you out. Axe lets out a breathless moan as he disappears inside you, his hands holding tightly to your hips.

For a moment, you both savor the feeling of him, buried to the hilt inside of you, before he bucks his hips and fucks up into you, his grip even tighter on your body. You bury your head in the crook of his neck as he pounds into you, splitting you open in the most delicious way.

You can’t remember the last time someone fucked you like this, if anyone ever came close. Beneath you, the Mandalorian grunts, chasing his own high, his eyes focused on his length disappearing inside you. You feel his pace quicken, and one of his hands moves back to your clit, his thumb gently moving to push you closer to a second climax.

You look down into his eyes, which are now burning into your own, and his mouth crashes into yours. His kiss is as desperate as his movements inside you, as if his tongue seeks to know every corner of your mouth. He swallows every moan that erupts from you as his thumb continues to work your clit.

His movements grow more erratic, and you can tell he is close- with one final thrust into you, he lets out a strangled moan against your lips as you feel yourself clench around him, white hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

He stays inside you, panting, even as the mixture of your releases begins to paint his beskar thigh plates. You let your cheek rest against the cool metal of his chest plate as you feel his cock soften. For what seems like an eternity, you both remain still, until finally you push yourself off of him and begin to redress. Axe keeps his eyes on you, watching as you lace your pants and pull on your boots.

Lazily, he tucks his cock back into his pants and stands to put on his belt and gloves. When you both have finished dressing, he reaches for his helmet and tucks it beneath his arm. “We’ll be on Trask for at least another week,” his voice is still slightly breathless, and the sheen of sweat is visible on his forehead in the dim light. You cock your head to the side and smile at him-

“Come find me if you ever need to blow off some more steam.”

@jango-fettish HERE U GO. HAVE SOME AX WOVES FILTH. I HATE MYSELF.

#axe woves #axe woves x reader #star wars #fanfic #the mandalorian #blowing off steam

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victoria-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Three: Budding Relationships

AN: Each chapter I post I gain more and more readers, and I thank you all!

Word Count: 3.7k

Trigger Warnings: violence, mention of hate crimes

Chapter Four: Enter Sebastian Shaw

Today we had the day off, since the teenagers proved to Charles and Erik they were not prepared to go along with them to ambush Shaw. So, I was once again approved as being the babysitter while Charles, Erik, and Moira go to Russia. I shook my head and chuckled at Erik's and I conversation before he left with Charles and Moira.

Erik laughed mockingly and clapped his hands together, "Are you sure you want her as a babysitter Charles? She did such a horrible job last time,"

Irritation filled me, and I glared daggers at him "Careful, Erik," I said with mock sweetness. "Or you'll find yourself crying like a spoiled two year old," I threatened.

He grinned boyishly despite my threat.

I was currently sitting on the couch with the others in an identical hangout room with another book in my hand. Except this one had a pinball machine, and overlooked a statueless courtyard. Plus, this room had all its windows. Angel, Hank, Raven, Sean, and I were all sitting on the leather couches. Honestly, it didn't surprise me when Sean sat with the girls and I, he just wouldn't give up. Alex and Darwin were playing on the pinball machines, and Alex was beating him rather badly.

"Jesus man, you are KILLING me." Darwin complained, as Alex focused intently at the pinball machine.

"Don't beat yourself up, I had a lot of spare time,"

Alex's last remark confused me. Hank had said that he'd been in prison for the last four years, and I don't think they gave their prisoners meaningless arcade machines. The thought quickly leaves my mind as I heard two CIA agents talking loudly.

"Oh, I didn't know the circus was in town!" an arrogant CIA agent caught my attention. "Hey, come on honey, give us a little uh..." doing a terrible impression of Angel's wings, I could hear her mutter 'no' under her breath, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. "No? Come on, let's see the foot," the agent jeered.

I could feel the anger starting to rise up inside of me, as I felt the happiness in the room subsided. Hank got up and walked to the button that closes the curtains.

"There it is, come on Big Foot. Let's go," Hank saluted the man mockingly, as the curtains closed."Hey, come on. Hey!" As Hank sat back down, the room fell silent, except the soft pinging of the pinball machine.

"They're just guys being stupid," Raven comforted, just realizing how much this actually upset Angel.

"Guys being stupid I can handle. Okay, I've handled that my whole life!" she snapped. "But I'd rather a bunch of guys stare at me with my clothes off than the way these ones stare at me!" Angel snapped again, disheartening Raven, who still wasn't completely over last night's events.

More silence.

"At us," Raven added sadly, Angel turned away guiltily, for lashing out on Raven, but there was no way she was going to apologize for it.

A flood of self-consciousness and self-loathing assaulted me, I tried to focus on my physical surroundings, rooting my thoughts enough to sort out my emotions and bring them under control. My hands balled into fists, my entire body tense. I brought my hand to my temple and massaged it with two fingers in an attempt to ease the pain.

Raven's soft voice called across from me, "Sorry, Claudia. Did we bother you?"

"Bother her?" Angel scoffed, voice dripping with attitude. "How could we have bothered her? She has an invisible mutation, no one could ever bother her,"

I forced a smile. Her attitude was merely an obnoxious mask for her fragile heart. I set my copy down of Jane Erye onto the table.

"You're right, Angel. The only thing I have to be bothered about is people wanting to see me swing from a tree," I quipped darkly. "And you know, gaining basic civil rights," I added, my eyes narrowed slightly.

Our bitter conversation is brought to an end by the abrupt sound of a thud coming from outside. We stared at each other in confusion before I stood up, sensing danger. We stayed still for a moment, listening to the thuds, there's silence and then there's a whooshing sound.

"This doesn't feel right," Darwin muttered, before striding over to the curtains and pressing the button to open them. Alex gives the pinball machine one last flick and then followed him. Outside, there was nothing. We gathered around the clear, glass window looked at each other, confused. I waited tersely, my eyes darting back and forth.

"Do you sense something, Claudia?" Raven asked.

"Something's wrong," I whispered, but only Raven heard me. She shot me a curious glance, but was stopped from saying anything by Alex.

"What is that?" Alex demanded, pointing at the black figures blocking the light of the moon.

The light made it only a silhouette, preventing us from seeing what it truly was, all we could see that a silhouette was holding up another silhouette.

And then it isn't.

I cried out in pain as I felt the fear and pain of a man dying strong in my mind. I tried to relax the man, but he was already dead. Just as I opened my eyes, a body came crumbling down to the ground and smashing instantly right in front of the window causing causing all of us to jump back in surprise. I let out a gasp as Angel and Raven let out a scream in horror, clutching tightly onto my arm. I heard more screams and felt more pain as more men started to fall from the sky.

Suddenly, the roof lights flickered on, the sky is littered with falling bodies crashing in various sights around the buildings, the sound of screams and smashing glass, filling our ears. Guards rushed out of the buildings, positioning themselves surrounding the window, blocking us from harms way. They signaled for us to move out of the way, as more attacks proceeded. I searched for the mind that kept killing the CIA agents, but couldn't seem to keep a right mind. Raven let out another scream as an agent tumbled from the sky and into the glass roof outside

Terror filled the room, seeping into my every pore.

"Get back! Get back! Do not leave that room, we are under attack!" A man without a gun shouted.

In a flash of flames, the red man dressed well in a suit appeared in a puff of smoke and we all screamed for the agents to turn around. Taking them by surprise. The guards taking a few moments for it to register before beginning to shoot at him. It was too late, he was gone.

The glass shattered as a bullet hit the window, and we rushed to duck behind the sofa, screams filled my ears. Darwin stood closest to the edge, his arms stretched out to shield us from the oncoming storm. A tornado appeared, swiftly making it's way around the other side of the building, ripping apart what Hank had called 'Cerebro'. I didn't want to watch Hank's pained expression, when he saw his hard work torn away, but I could feel Hank radiating sadness and frustration.

"Stay here, my ass!" Darwin shouted to us, making his way towards the door. Running out into the corridor, we were stopped by some more guards.

"GET BACK!" the agents screamed at us.

"We can help! We can help!" Darwin tried to plead, but we're just pushed back.

Deep down, I knew Darwin realized that we couldn't.

Raven's hysterical, a complete mess. I managed to calm her emotions down with my empathic powers, but she somehow overruled that and became anxious once more. A wave of heat hits me, followed by an immense explosion. Raven screamed as agents are sucked into the flames, and we run back to where we were. Met with more destruction, back into the room, the tornado was moving closer and most of the guards were dead, falling down, one by one. Raven sobbed louder and screamed again when an agent is launched through the only remaining window by the hurricane. I can't be the only person to notice that we've completely backed ourselves into a corner.

The red man stabbed the last agent and Raven whimpered. A good looking Spanish man and the one that closely resembled most people's portrayal of the devil, stepped over the window, entering the room, one on each side. We were closed in.

Someone fired another shot and Raven screamed again.

"Wait, wait! You want the mutants? They're right through that door! Just let us normal people go! We're no threa-" a muffled voice is cut off and Raven's face changed into one of disgust.

A helmeted man, who was easily in his forties, walked through the door. To be honest, he looked kind of stupid.

"Where is the telepath?" The man in the helmet asked, as if it were no big deal that they just killed hundreds of men.

"Not here," The devil looking man noted, you could tell who was in charge there and it definitely wasn't him.

"Too bad," The other man smiled. "Well, at least I can taking this silly thing off," he stated, pulling the helmet off and ran his fingers through his long hair, pushing it back into its place.

At least we agree on something, he does look entirely silly.

But how would that helmet protect his thoughts from a telepath like Charles? No one in the room could read his mind, but I could read his emotions and I knew that he was bad news, there was a danger radiating from him, anyone could feel that. My mind filled with the echoes of his thoughts tied to one specific emotion. Hatred. War, survival, the strongest race. He was thinking of things beyond what we were anticipating.

"Good evening," he addressed us. "My name's Sebastian Shaw. And I am not here to hurt you,"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, "Liar. Your little sidekicks just murdered a fleet of CIA agents," I thought.

A lone agent appeared across the courtyard.

"Freeze!"

"Azazel?" Shaw lazily ordered

He disappeared, appearing again outside, swiftly killing the man and teleported back.

Shaw turned back to us, "My friends," He took another step towards us, handing his helmet to the Spanish man. "There's a revolution coming, when mankind discovers who we are, what we can do. Each of us will face a choice: be enslaved, or rise up to rule," His eyes lingered on me for longer than I would have liked. But Shaw was not done yet. "Choose freely, but know that if you are not with us then you are, by definition, against us,"

"So. You can stay, fight for the people that hate and fear you. Or, you can join me, and live like kings," he looked to the boys, none of them attempting to make a move. Then he looked to Angel, standing in front of me. "And queens," He holds his hand out to her and Angel took it with almost no hesitation. I couldn't help sending her a look of pure disgust.

"Angel..." Raven's voice dropped in disappointment, although I didn't particularly like her, it didn't mean I wanted this to happen.

"You kidding me?" Sean's face dropped, he enjoyed flirting with Angel the most, but I never imagined he would be this crushed.

Angel looked back at us, "Come on," she commanded, gesturing towards us. "We don't belong here and that's nothing to be ashamed of,"

Darwin reached out to her, but Angel turned away, ignoring us.

"We have to do something," Raven insisted.

Alex and Darwin exchange a few harsh whispers. Alex pushed Darwin in the side and Darwin turned away.

"Stop. I'm coming with you," Darwin announced, stepping over what was left of the window. Angel smiled, clearly pleased someone had listened to her speech, even Shaw seemed momentarily pleased.

I watched in disbelief as Darwin moved towards the line of mutants. Shaw stepped towards him.

"Good choice. So tell me about your mutation," He said slyly.

"Well I adapt to survive," Darwin explained, Alex lead us into the center of the room. "So I guess that means I'm coming with you," Darwin finished.

Shaw nodded, "I like that," Shaw signaled for him to join Angel and Darwin stood next to Angel.

"ALEX!" Darwin yelled, forming a rock solid barrier and dipping Angel to protect her.

"Get down!" Alex shouted, shoving us out of harms way, sending rings of energy, launching at Shaw, Alex grinned momentarily before his face dropped.

We watched in horror as Shaw had somehow absorbed his energy. I raised my hand to send a telekinetic blast towards Shaw and that's when everything else became a blur, and before I knew it Azazel vanished, and appeared right in front of me within a blink an eye. His tail wrapped around my throat, I yelped lightly when my feet left the floor, kicking out blindly, but my five five frame wasn't really doing anything to stop this man who was nearly a foot taller than I was. I clawed at his tail so air could fill my lungs again, but it was a futile effort as he only tightened his grip

"Protecting your fellow mutants? That's a noble gesture," He shivered slightly, who wouldn't after absorbing that much power. Darwin got up, confused, and Angel moved back towards the Spanish man. "Feels good," Shaw shrugged his shoulders a little and let out a smirk.

"Azazel drop her," Azazel did as he was command, air filled my lungs but only momentarily. As soon as Azazel dropped me, Shaw's hand clasped around my neck, and brought me up off of my feet. I gagged on his choking grasp, my hands once again trying to claw it off my neck. "Now who's this?" Shaw wondered aloud a small sinister smile on his lips, his eyes scanning my body over.

The very air that he gave off was dangerous and intimidating. I mean that was obvious when he first walked through the doors, but it was made all the more clearer now that I was only inches from his face.

It was his eyes. Those eyes that looked right through me and held no warmth.

"Her name is Claudia," Angel spoke up. If Shaw wasn't choking the life out of me right now I would be livid with Angel telling him my name and for betraying us. "She can manipulate emotions, she could come with us," Angel suggested, with a rather large smile on her face.

"Yes, she could," Shaw agreed, nodding his head. "With your abilities, I'm sure you'll be very valuable to us. Your power is very interesting, Claudia," Shaw stated, and a shiver went down my spine when he said my name.

"No...it's not," I managed to utter out.

"Oh to me it is," Shaw disagreed, a menacing smile on his face. "With your abilities, I'm sure we'll be able to control anyone at will. We'll make an army. We'll be unstop-"

"No!" I hissed.

"What?"

"Go...to...hell!" I wheezed out.

"Hmm, it's too bad really, a beautiful woman like you..I saw so much potential in you," Shaw snarled gleefully, then swung his free hand, as it connected to the right side of my face, some of the energy from Alex's power thrown with it, causing me to see stars on impact. He threw me into the wall, my limp body collided with the drywall.

The room seemed to fade, leaving stars in my eyes and I felt my adrenaline crash, but surprising felt more energy than I ever had before.

Shaw turned sharply to Darwin. Darwin goes to throw a punch, but is quickly blocked. Shaw grabbed his mouth. "Adapt to this," Shaw whispered, and we watch, horrified expressions on our faces, as he puts all of Alex's energy into Darwin's mouth.

I watched as darkness slowly crept into my vision as Shaw, Azazel, the Spanish man, and Angel disappeared into a burst of flames. That's when I see Darwin standing there, convulsing.

Darwin tried to find different ways to adapt, but Alex's power was able to destroy the barrier. I watched him turn to platinum, then rock as the plasma burnt within, the orange-red glow peeking out of the rock like lava until he turned to solid rock. Then he realized it just wasn't going to work. He faced Alex and the rest of us, the blonde's eyes widened with terror, as he watched his new friend slowly die. Darwin looked over at Alex with black eyes, as he reached out, wordlessly and the stone started to break apart again. Then the cracks of Darwin's form brightened, and he exploded into only bits and pieces.

And just like that, he was gone forever.

Everyone all stood for a few moments in silence. Then the whole cataclysm sunk in, and everyone began scrambling around. Hank ran out the door saying he was going to find a first aid kit for me, Sean and Raven took baby steps towards where Darwin had diminished, and Alex rushed over to me, examining me. I already felt my face was swelling black and blue, a little shadow of blood remained under my head.

My vision was almost completed darkened, but my eyes met Alex's and in that instant, I knew how much he was hurting. He practically killed a man. Just as the thought crossed my mind, Alex spoke.

"H-He's gone. I k-k- I-I kill-killed him," Alex stuttered, his expression full of devastation.

"No, you didn't," I whispered, feeling even more drained as the seconds passed. "Trust me,"

"Claudia!"

I heard someone yell. But I couldn't tell who it was, for I slipped into unconsciousness and let the darkness envelope me before the person could call my name again.

~~~x~~~

When I awoke my body was no longer on the cold, hard ground of the rec room, but instead on the lumpy mattress I've become used to. Someone must have carried me. I managed to sit up a little less than an inch before my head started spinning and pain shot through my spine causing me to lie back down and gasp loudly.

Pain.

It's a slightly indescribable sensation; all one can really use is a mix of adjectives and synonyms, and even then one couldn't fully describe what they were feeling. Just what the pain feels like, using personifications and such. Right now, I felt like someone had beaten the tar out of me, which is what exactly happened. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to blink, it even hurt to think of even possibly moving again. I couldn't open my eyes, as they were held close with hard crust. I tried to push them open, but could only pry open my left eye, as the more I pushed myself in opening the right one, the more it hurt.

My brown orb peered around the room, my vision was still blurry. It was two o'clock in the morning if I read the time right. It had been fours hours since Darwin's death.

A tear rolled down my cheek, wiping it away. I couldn't tell if it was on my own volition or if I was just channeling everyone's emotions. I didn't want to cry, but I could no longer control it, when tears kept effortlessly sliding down my face. I looked through my tears, and I knew I wouldn't be sleeping for the rest of the night. I touched my head lightly, as I felt a long bandage wrapped around it. It was so sore, and gave little jolts of pain every time I picked up on someone's feelings.

I slowly slid out of the comforts of a bed that wasn't truly mine and let short, loud cry of pain as I moved. I stood up too quickly and a wave of dizziness hit me like a truck, causing me to plop back down onto the bed until it passed. I pushed myself up off the bed again and trudged to the door and into the hallway, I was put in a room at the end of the corridor that seemed to remain untouched by the events, I realized nobody would dare go back to our old rooms, they were just rubble and dust.

It was everywhere. The scent of burned flesh made my stomach turn, and the smoke stung my eyes. I felt sick to my stomach, but there was nothing to vomit. I could feel sweat trickle down the back of my neck, mixing painfully with the open wounds there, but I didn't close my eyes. My stomach was twisted into knots, and it was all I could do not to break down and cry. The pain from everyone else was what was kill me.

Fear. Anger. Despair. Disgust. Malice. Painpainpainpainpain-

I threw myself against the cold, concrete wall in effort to keep myself upright and placed my overheated forehead on the wall to ground me. I breathed deeply, my chest heaving and summoned up what little strength I had to push on.

I wandered more and I found an abandoned bathroom with shattered mirrors and glass coating the ground. I lingered in the doorway, not wanting to take the chance that I might cut my feet open on the shattered fragments. But one of the mirrors was intact, except for a slight, thin crack in the upper right hand corner. It was across from me and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. That in itself wasn't unusual, but it wasn't my face that stared back at me.

My hair was limp black and my eye a dull, muddy color. I stepped closer to the mirror, forgetting about the damned glass. And dear Lord, my face. I looked paler than usual and exhausted, worn out. Not to mention a god damn black eye.

I raked my fingers through my black hair to sort out the tangles, letting out a huff of air, a sardonic laugh escaped from lips.

"This is what I left the comforts of New York for? Death and destruction?"

Chapter Five: A Place to Call Home

#x-men fanfiction #black fanfiction #x-men fanfic #charles xavier fanfiction #charles xavier x oc #black!oc #magneto x oc #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr fanfiction #erik lehnsherr x oc #black!reader #x men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine

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ladywinterwitch · 5 years ago

Text

On Va Voir

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avenger! Reader

Summary: During a mission you unexpectedly find a new kink: Steve speaking french.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it tf up), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, language kink (?), a bit of a dom fight between the reader and Steve, 18 + so if you’re under that age you shouldn’t be reading this. You’ve been warned.

Word Count: 3205

A/n: Just rewatched for the 34868 time the winter soldier and I’ve never noticed before HOW MUCH of a turn on is Steve speaking french. So yeah, enjoy a bit of smutty Rogers. Also, this is pretty much no plot and total filth.

(Gif not mine)

You were on a mission with Steve, Natasha, Sam and Bucky. You had been paired with Bucky, while Sam was with Nat and Steve was alone, although you were constantly in contact with your auricular. -We’re inside the ship, front. What’s your position?- Bucky says with a gun in each hand. You followed behind him, with two guns of your own. -We’re in the control room. Working on the informations.- Sam responds. -Steve?- Bucky tries.

-I’m on the roof. And I’m pretty sure I’m not alone. How long have you got?- he asks. -Like, ten minutes, at least. This computer’s older than both of you.- Natasha responds and you can feel the smirk on her voice. You press your lips tightly to not chuckle, Bucky notices and shakes his head.

-Ah, very funny Romanoff.- the blonde sasses back.

-She got you there, oldies.- Sam commented. Bucky grunted with a ‘shut up’. After a few moments you realize that there’s no one in your area, so you lower your guns.

-We should come to you, Steve. We got nothing to do here anyways.- you say, looking at your partner that was still, but didn’t completely put off his guard. -Don’t worry doll, I got it.- but then you hear a gun shot, and glare at Bucky with wide eyes. He looks at you and starts to run. -We’re coming, pal, hold on.- he speaks while running. You both get out to the open and then come up the stairs to the roof.

When you arrive, you see a couple of men already on the ground, and Steve facing another alone. They are one in front of the other and he’s talking. You don’t hear what he says, but you hear Steve response. He drops the shield at his side and then removes his helmet, his hair a little messy. He has the slightest smirk on his face while he speaks. -On va voir.- you hear from the speaker. 'Lets see’. And in that moment something in your stomach shifts. You can’t really place what or why, but you just know that you feel a little too hot in your leather catsuit all of a sudden.

The two start to fight, but it doesn’t take long for the avenger to take him down. You glance at Bucky, who’s just leaning againts the door, with his arms crossed, guns slipped into the belt at his sides. A little knowing smirk playing on his lips. -Jerk.- he says amused. You turn around and see Steve that kicks his shield, making it jump back to his wrist. -Okay guys we have everything. We’ll meet at the quinjet.- Sam says. You clear your throat and look away. -Copy that.- you croak. - You all go back to the avengers tower safely and Tony decides to throw a party. Why? Cause he’s Tony. He didn’t really need a valid reason. So here you were, the day after, finding yourself in front of your full lenght mirror, in your matching blue lacy lingerie, fixing your wavy loose hair and your red lipstick. Normally at this time, especially after a mission, you would’ve all been lazy somewhere, but obviously your teammate couldn’t wait one more day to give you a wild night. Missions usually had as a consequence jet lag, a few bruises to heal, business to take care of and stuff to analyze, so it wasn’t exactly the perfect timing, but fortunately you were able to sleep like a baby the night prior. A particualr help came, indirectly, from Steve which helped your love-me session to end quickly and kick you out to sleep.

You should’ve felt ashamed for that, but honestly you were pretty sure you were not the only one in the world to get off at the thought of the broad and handsome Captain America. The only small detail was that you were his teammate and friend. You had a huge crush on him, but you feel more like a friend vibe from him and that’s okay. It sure avoids problems at work.

You couldn’t stop thinking about that phrase that Steve said in french the day before. It turned you on to no end. You didn’t know why, but the way he said it, with that smugness, his hair all messy and shit. It was just so sexy to you. In any case, the crush was your dirty little secret. Well, not exactly, considering that both Bucky and Natasha had figured out by themselves and Wanda just happened to be reading your mind in the wrong moment. But you trusted them, even if them teasing you about it whenever they had the occasion was beyond embarassing.

You slid into your tight, red bodycon . It was plain, above the knee and had a low cut sweetheart neckline. It was strapless and it hugged your body perfectly. It wasn’t much in your style, but you felt bold that night, also you may or may not wanted to find someone to get laid.

You gave yourself one last look before going down with the elevator. Your black heels were already starting to bother you. You weren’t really a type for parties, but you did it just for the team. And a good drink, yeah. You arrived at the floor and when you stepped out you saw that there were a lot of people, but it wasn’t Tony’s worst. You looked around and saw Sam, Rhodie, Clint and Natasha at the bar, Wanda, Vision, Thor and Maria at the couches, Tony and Pepper talking with a couple of people, and then in a corner near the big window wall, Steve and Bucky.

They were both handsome. Bucky was wearing a grey shirt and Steve a deep blue one. They both had the first few buttons undone and were holding a beer and laughing. The blonde turned his head and saw you. His smile dropped and his gaze wandered on your body, from head to toe. You looked away, kinda embarrassed that you had been caught looking, but a few moments later the two man came to you.

-Y/n! You look great.- Bucky greeted you with a hug. You laughed and hugged him back. -Doesn’t she, Stevie?- he said in a slyly. The captain didn’t took his gaze away from you. -She always does.- he responds with a low tone that made you heat up. -Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.- you motioned at the two in front of you.

-Hey doll, care for a drink? We could go to the bar and -the brunette started, but Steve stepped closer. -Sam wants to talk to you, I’ll accompany her.- he says with a small smile. You smiled back and Bucky frowned. -Since when that bird man wants to breathe my same air?- Steve shoot at him a glare and he raised his eyebrows.

-Ooh, yeah, about the.. Uhm.. The mission…- he tries to save himself. Steve relaxes and Bucky starts to walk away. -Alright, catch up with you guys later.- he gives you a thumbs up. Steve looks at you and offers his arm. -Shall we get that drink?- he smirks making you melt. You smile widely and take his offer. -We very much shall.-

You soon were joined by the rest of the group and were having fun at the bar. You noticed that Steve never took his gaze off you, but you weren’t certain, considering the amount of alcohol that you ingested. You felt a little claustrophobic at one point so you excused yourself getting up. -Want me to come with you?- Nat asked. You shook your head. -I’m fine babe, just need a little air.- you walked between the people reaching the big balcony.

You went closer to the glass barrier and propped your elbows on the edge, looking at New York City by night. You closed your eyes, breathing deep. -Did you really drank that much?- you open your eyes suddenly, turning back to the voice. Steve was just a few feet away, hands in his pants’ pockets. He was looking at you with a little smile. You mirrored his expression, turning back to the view. The glass door was closed and you were alone.

-Not really. I’m just a little dizzy, and I needed some fresh air, that’s all.- you responded. There were some moments of silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. You felt him getting closeer to you, almost too close. So close that you could feel his breath on your neck. -You look so beautiful tonight..- he whispered raising one hand and resting it on your hip. Your breath hitched.

-Maybe it’s the alcohol, even though we both know I can’t really get drunk, or maybe its the way Bucky flirted before, or the way you looked so flustered yesterday on the mission..- he started to caress your waist gently. You were slowly melting under his touch, his hand so warm in stark contrast with the chilly air. You had goosbumps. -But I just can’t ignore how I feel anymore.- he turned you to face him slowly. You locked eyes. -I’ve never wanted someone so bad in my life, and I think that you want me, too.- he paused. You didn’t know what to say. You were completely taken aback by his confession.

-But if I’m wrong, I’m gonna step back right now and I’m gonna stay away.- he continued, with a little of uncertainty. You widened your eyes, laying your hand on his chest. -No- you said quickly. -I do. I want you. God, I want you so bad.- in that moment he grabbed your cheeks with his hands and started to kiss you. It was hungry, fast and messy. You almost didn’t even realize that he placed you against the wall, away from the view of the people. You grabbed his hair with one hand and his shirt in the other.

-I wanna fuck you right now, I don’t care if everyone sees, the team, the other people.- he said kissing your neck. -Steve.. Please- you moaned. He looked at you with the best bedroom eyes he could give. -Please what, baby?- he cooed.

-I need you, please. Let’s.. Let’s go to the bedroom, please I can’t take it anymore- he nodded and you quickly went inside, careful to not be seen by the team you reached the elevator and pressed to your private floor.

You had to keep your cool because you weren’t alone, but when you arrived you ran like teenagers, giggling towards his room. He opened the door and then slammed it shut. You pushed him on the bed and he let himself fall, resting on his elbows while he watches you like you were his prey. What he didn’t know was that joke’s on him.

You stood right in front of him, a smirk playing on your lips, an equally predatory gaze in your eyes. You reached to your side, unzipping the red dress slowly, letting it pool around your heels. You stepped out of the dress, bending to pick it up and in the meantime giving Steve a perfect view of your ass. -Fuck baby girl, blue is definitely your color.- he groaned. You chuckled straddling his lap. His warm hands were on your body in no time, pulling you flush against him kissing you. It wasn’t sweet, at all. It was full of passion, all teeth and tongue and soft bites.

At some point he reached behind your back to unclasp your blue lacy bra, then tossing the garment in some part of the room. He didn’t lose time and quickly attacked one of your breasts with his mouth, while he touched the other with his hand.

-Eager, captain?- you let out a noise that was a mixture between a moan and a laugh. He released your nipple from his mouth locking eyes.

-Excuse me if I can’t resist my urge to worship the goddess in front, oh well actually, on me.- he said smugly making you laugh. You gave him a push on the chest to make him lay down.

-Sweet talker.- you tease him, trailing his neck and jawline with wet kisses. He chuckles a little, his hands travelling on your sides, back and ass.

-What? You think I’m just, saying it? It’s true, y/n. You are stunning.- he says sincerly, making you look at him for a second. You smile and place a sweet kiss on his lips.

-Well, thank you.- you respond and you’re caught off guard when he grabs you by the hips and flips your position, so now he was hovering you. You gasped for the surprise.

-And now I’m gonna show exactly how much I want you.- he smirked and started to pepper your belly and hip bones with open mouthed kisses, and at the same time he slipped off your panties, letting them fall on the ground. And now you were stark naked and totally at his mercy. You moaned and with all the strenght you could find you stopped him. He gave you a confused look.

-First, I think you’re not playing fairly there, captain. Then, I’m gonna tell you exactly what I want. Strip.- you order and he licks his lips, his cerulean, and now glassy, eyes were eating you up. He got up, standing on his knees, and started to unbutton his blue shirt, while you took care of his belt and zip. He took off his pants and boxers in one move.

-Happy now?- he asked amused, resuming his work with his mouth, this time he started from your ankle, going up as he went. You peeked at his hard lenght, tip already glistening with precum and angry red.

-Can say so.- you murmured, laying on your back and enjoying the show of Steve between your legs. Your breath started to hitch when he got closer to your center, but as the teasing bastard that he his, he stopped.

-C'mon Steve, baby, I need you.- you say, throwing out of the window yor dignity. -What do you need? Tell me sweetheart.- he murmurs against your thigh, looking at you. -I’d quite like you to speak French between my legs, captain.- you smirk, biting your lip. His expression was priceless.

-Fuck yes- he groaned spreading your legsmore in front of him. He then smiled mischievously. -Alors c'est ce qui vous a tous énervé hier, uh?- So that’s what got you all flustered yesterday, uh?, his tone was a mixture of teasing and realization. He licked a long stripe from your entrance up to your clit anthat made you almost scream, instead you opted for grabbing his blonde hair with one hand and the snow-white like sheets.

-Can’t really blame me. With your cute messy hair, showing off like that..- you responded mewling, your eyes closed and your head leaned back. He chucked sending vibrations trough your whole body. You clenched instinctively. -Yeah, 'cause I’m good at what I do doesn’t mean that I was showing off, chéri.- a particularly harsh suck on your bundle of nerves got your back arching off the bed and moaning loudly -Steve-

-Tu aimes ça, chérie?- You like that baby? you moaned when you heard him speak French again.

-Yes, God, Steve right there- you answer struggling to not grind onto his face. He adds two fingers and that knocks the air out of your lungs.

-Tu es si doux. Si mouillé, est-ce tout pour moi, chérie? Mmh cette jolie petite chatte, tout à moi pour jouer- You’re so sweet. So wet, is it all for me baby? This pretty little pussy, all mine to play with. He kept talking in between licks and open mouthed kisses on your clit, his long and thick fingers pumping directrly on your sweet spot.

-Fuck. I..I can’t take it anymore, please..- you pulled his hair slightly and he growled, the vibrations went straight to your core and you felt the coil in your belly tighten. You started to gasp. -You’re close aren’t you? Come on baby, I’ve got you, let go honey- he hummed, back to english, speeding up a little his fingers. With that you came. Hard. You screamed his name arching your back of the bed, the sheets out of place because of your pulling.

He rode you thorough your orgasm, and when he felt you calm down a bit he extracted his fingers, licking them clean. You could’ve cum again just by watching him. But instead, you rose up and pulled him to you, kissing him. You hummed when you felt your taste on his tongue. Your hand reached out to stroke his cock, now even harder than before. He choked out a moan on your mouth. -Baby girl I need to be inside you- you nodded and he replaced your hand with his, stroking his cock a few times, he lined himself with your entrance and entered you with a sharp thrust that took both your breaths away.

-Fuck y/n, baby, you feel so good around me- he hid his face in your neck and you circled his shoulders with your arms. -Please move- you gasped and he complied, starting to move faster. After a while he took your leg putting it on his hip, reaching a deeper spot inside you.

-Oh, Fuck. Yeah, right..ah, right there baby.-you gasped, your nails scratching his strong shoulders. You started to feel his breath getting erratic.

-So beautiful- he murmured in your ear and you felt yourself melt a bit more. -Baby ’m gonna come, I’m so close. Are you with me?- you said kissing him on the lips, the cheek, the jaw.

-Right behind you, love.- the pet name made your heart flutter, but you soon forgot about it when he stated to pick up pace again, then adding his fingers on your clit, and that was it. You orgasmed for the second time that night and he followed a few thrusts later with a loud moan and your name spilling from his plump lips. He ride out both of your releases and then planted his forehead against yours.

-It’s okay, baby.- you murmured scratching the nape of his neck lightly, while he calmed his breath, making him hum approvingly. You looked at his parted lips and closed eyes, his blissed out expression making you smile. A few seconds later he opened his blue pools, smiling back quite shyly. -Hi.- you said softly. -Hi sweetheart.- he responded fondly, caressing your cheek. You stayed there for a while.

Then he got up and cleaned you both with a warm and damp wash cloth, bringing it back to the bathroom then he came back to bed with you. -I don’t really wanna deal with the team tomorrow.- you said with your head on his chest. Your fingers tracing imaginary patterns on his torso, him petting your hair delicately. -Me neither. But even if we don’t say anything they’re gonna find out anyway. We kind of disappeared and never came back.- he chuckled and you laughed with him. -Let’s just enjoy this, for now.- you responded. -Yeah. Everything else can wait.- he kissed your head.

Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated ;)

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