#thank you lovely 💕 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saradika · 2 years ago

Text

vic my love, thank you so much!! this and you really made my day 💖 so happy you liked it!

if you send for me, you know I'll come

din djarin x f!reader

rated E - 4.5k

Tags: protective!neighbor!din, canon-typical violence, Nevarro is attacked, pirate invasion, death of pirates, angst, brief hostage situation, established relationship, outercourse, multiple orgasms, PiV

A/N: mini-sequel to only if for a night (but also can be read as a one-shot!) Spoilers for 03.05 - absolutely cheering over “I decided to take you up on your offer for a tract of land” and wanted to write something to explore that

The blasts rain down. Turning parts of your beloved city into crumbling stone and smoking ash. A cry of distress sent to the New Republic. A whisper throughout the crowd saying that help isn't coming. That this time, Nevarro is on it's own.

But you're sure of one thing. Hang onto that hope like a lifeline, as you send out a small message of you own.

Knowing that Din Djarin will come for you.

That he will find a way.

The Corsair hangs heavy, overhead.

Appearing suddenly, a dark splash against the sunny, blue skies. A weight in your limbs, an uneasiness creeping up your spine as the hail comes in.

Stuck frozen in place, as you watch the face of the Pirate King - Gorian Shard - appear on the holo. Filling the room with his dripping visage.

Ushered quickly off to the side, as the two engineers make a hasty exit - though you don't remember moving. Listening to the sharp back-and-forth.

“Believe your ears then, and don't mistake my hospitality for weakness."

“The Spinward patrol passes through here regularly."

Karga holds his ground against the threats that fire down. Shard coming back for his revenge, for the pirates killed in the streets of Nevarro all those weeks before.

A day you remember well. The day he had come back into your life.

And for a second you feel safe - until you see that confident veneer chip. That hesitance in Karga's voice, in his words, as Shard calls his bluff.

The blasts that start to rain down, after.

That uneasiness morphing into pure dread. A matching fear that flashes in both your eyes, as the call ends, and the droid enters the room.

"High Magistrate, the escape pod is ready." It chirps. Voice friendly, in spite of the dire situation, "I will lead you to the launch site."

"I won't abandon my city," Karga shakes his head, turning your way, "You take it. Get to safety."

And in spite of your complaints before - those told in confidence to Din, about how your boss was too much, too extravagant, too Karga - you can't bear it. Not when you see how he puts the people first, instead of running.

You shake your own head. Words coming shakily, but you mean every one, "I'm with you. What can I do?"

"We have to get the people to safety. Send out a directive immediately." He barks out, and you're nodding. The command giving you something to do - unsticking your feet.

Raising the alarm.

Following him into the streets.

———

Your fingers key in the codes for the message - the cry for help. The recording Karga quickly made in his office after the evacuation had begin - his one shot before the building began to shake with the force of the blasts.

A message for Captain Teva, of the New Republic.

You had wanted to protest. Had tried to - arguing that there were others that could help.

"He's one man. He might not even come." Karga had snapped back. His patience thin - each second that passed meant another part of the city crumbled, "We'll have a better shot at surviving this if we reach out to someone with numbers."

You flinched at his tone, at the insinuation. The words from the message replaying in your head.

"The situation is dire."

"I'm afraid that our planet will fall."

His voice softened when he saw your expression, "We don't have time for another message. Send it."

Part of you had wanted to argue.

That Din would come, for you. If he knew you were in danger.

He'd save all of you.

He'd find a way.

Instead, you bit the words back. Focusing on the comm code that Karga had rattled off. The crushing bands still wrapped tightly around your chest as the message is sent, firing off with a sharp click.

Sending your own after, with a small wish - breathed out into the stars. These numbers long-since memorized, fingers flying over the keys. The briefest of messages, but you hope he'll understand.

Din. It’s the Pirates. If you get this, we could really use your help.

Please.

There's the boom of another blast, the floor rattling beneath your feet.

And then, you're running.

Retreating to the lava flats, with the rest of the city.

———

Dirt clings to your tunic. Clay dusting your side, your shoulder - from when you shielded a neighbor from a blast, tugging them down the alley.

No time to do anything more than get out. Following the waves out people out of the city limits. Watching as months and years of growth and progress and green crumble. Sending you into the wastes, once more.

Feet aching by the time you stop - shivering now, in the evening chill. The dark sky above illuminated with the golden and red flickering of a fire, tearing through the western edge of town. Sending up billowing smoke, blocking out the stars.

A grief that surrounds you, in the dark. A selfish ache in the way that you mourn for you home. The happiness you had built. Promising to look after his, after that night you spent together.

Having to face that you weren't able to. That there might be nothing left.

The thought follows you, seeping into your bones. Weighing you down, as you huddle in small groups. Fires dotting the lava flats, flickering in the wind. Shifting against the ground as you try to get comfortable - finding it near impossible.

Drifting off, when your eyes get too heavy to stay open. Even with the ridges of rock digging into your side, an arm tucked under your head.

You call to him in your sleep. Drifting off to the memories, on repeat for comfort. Replaying the messages you've exchanged, since he left.

Hoping you'll get the chance to see him. Even if it's just one last time.

Even if it's just in your dreams.

———

The Corsair lingers. Pirates deployed in waves, pillaging and looting. Those who stayed inside, those who refused to leave, were at their mercy. Turned into captives or pushed around. Forced to smile and serve food and drink as a blaster points at their guts.

Not daring to refuse.

There's not enough weapons left among you to fight back. Not thinking to arm yourself - all thought focused on getting out. Leaving you vulnerable - stranded on the dark field of igneous rock.

There's whispers of surrender. Looks thrown Karga's way, as he stands firm.

Still a beacon, in spite of the hardship.

But you stay firm, as well. You know hope will come.

You believe in him.

The hours pass and the pit in your stomach grows. A man breaks away, a hurried plan to sneak into the town. To try to gather those inside, to see if he can grab weapons.

He doesn't come back.

Instead of gunfire there's shouting now. Harsh laughter that filters through the whipping wind. Trails of smoke still rising up to the sky, where the ship still hangs - waiting.

Waiting for Karga's hail of surrender.

Waiting for the city to fall.

———

A cry breaks through the stilted silence. Everyone muted with worry - no longer speculating.

The pointing of fingers, as something streaks against the sky.

A glint of silver, shining like Beskar.

You know that ship. Have seen it, in the space between your house and his.

A leaping in your heart and a wetness on your cheeks that you don't even realize - as your shouts are among the first to rise.

Cheering, for the help that has come.

Watching as a larger ship joins his - as it opens, spilling figures with jetpacks into the air.

Karga smiles, as he meets your eyes. Relief in them, as he raises his comm.

"Thanks for your help, Mando." There's fondness in his tone.

You can't stop grinning, as the voice you know so well crackles back, "Heard you might need a hand."

"Be careful, my friend." He smiles, before growing serious, "They've got you outnumbered ten to one."

There's an edge to Din's voice then, the words low and smooth, “I like those odds."

Karga chuckles, reminiscing, "I bet you do."

There's a beat of silence, and then a final request.

“Karga. Keep her safe, for me."

His eyes find yours. Knowing who Din means - your heart flipping at the words.

A knowing smile, as he answers.

"You know I will."

The comm clicks off, but the heat that rises in your chest and face lingers. Hiding the smile as your face turns towards the sun.

Watching with the others as the two ships dart around in the sky. The sounds of blasters layering over each other from within the city.

The bright flash of red and gold as a hit is landed on the Corsair, the handful of snubfighters in the sky quickly dwindling.

Whispers of hope race through the groups of people around you. Steps as they start to head towards the city, as the pirates are picked off.

A groan, as the turrets above shift. A spray landing a kilometer away, but each round moving closer. Spending up dirt and rock and the dread is flooding though you again as it quickly approaches.

“They’re targeting us!” A cry goes up, as that bit of hope wavers.

The groups scattering, splitting apart as they back up.

Your eyes stay on the sky. Watching as the two smaller ships team up - and fire.

The blaze of fire and smoke as the Corsair tilts, and then plummets. An achingly slow descent, as the front tips down, colliding loudly with the rocky ground. Crumpling into broken metal, and the explosion that fills the sky is so bright that it hurts your eyes.

The Pirate King, defeated.

The cries around you change. Fear turning swiftly into joy. Voices blending and mixing until it’s just a drawn out, repeated chant.

“It's gonna be okay!”

———

You’re among the first to breach the far border of the city. The remaining pirates gathered in surrender, weapons thrown upon the ground.

The Mandalorians chasing them from the bowels of the city, intent on seeing things through.

But not everyone among the remaining decide to go so easily. Something moves at the corner of your vision, as you pass by the crumbling house.

Something tall and broad - turning just in time to see the mottled yellow skin of the Quarren as he lunges your way.

Fingers twist around you, hard and cold. Your breath in your throat as the barrel presses against your chin - using you like a human shield.

Another pair, their skin in matching shades of crimson, grab the older woman and the young man next to you. Mimicking their leader, guns clicking in their hands.

A forced negotiation.

Ice creeps into your veins - fearing that this is the end, when you were so close to salvation. Eyes wide as you look towards Din.

How he turns at the gasp that skitters through the crowd. The briefest second - when he sees you.

The twitch of his hand, as he stalks forward. A blaster raised so quickly you can barely blink before something hot and bright is shooting past your cheek.

Downing the pirate that’s holding you captive with a single shot.

Whistling birds from the Mandalorian at his side taking out the other two in an instant.

You’re in his arms a moment later. The beskar cool against your cheek as he pulls you to him. Crushing you against his chest, before he’s pulling back.

The swivel of his helmet as he looks - paying an abandoned storefront just off to the side. Hauling you with him as the Mandalorians round up the rest of the Pirates, as they finally surrender.

You can feel the few eyes that follow you - the weight of their gaze. But in this moment, you can’t bring yourself to care.

He’s ripping the gloves off - bare hands coming to cup your face the moment you’re inside. As if unable to help touching you himself, not wanting any layers as he tilts your face up to his so he can see you.

A slow drift of his helmet as he checks you over.

“Are you hurt?” Din rasps, “Are you alright, cyar’ika?”

The meaning of that word is still unknown, but there’s such an affection in the way he says it. Carefully, earnestly, and it has you nodding.

“I’m fine.” You croak, your hand coming to rest on his. Pressing it against your cheek, leaning into it.

Some of the stiffness in his posture wanes. Your back pressing against the wall as he crowds you, as relief crashes through him.

Staring up at him - feeling the rush of emotion. Making your words soft, no more than a whisper.

“You came.”

His own voice rough, “Of course I did. I always will.”

You smile then, at that.

Sweet and soft, just for him.

“I knew you would. I just knew.”

At your words - the adoring look you give him - his hand is raising. Traveling to his helmet. Lifting the edge, where you can just see the briefest glimpse of tan skin, the scruff of his beard.

Before your eyes are snapping shut, and his lips are pressing to yours.

And oh, how you remember them.

Your fingers curling in his cowl as you cling to him. The moan sliding from your throat as he leans into you, his other hand gripping almost painfully at your waist.

Desperate.

That’s how you feel. Like you can’t get enough, as you curve yourself against his chest. Lips parting when his tongue brushes against the seam, letting him deepen it.

Leaving you panting and breathless when he finally pulls back. Fingers searching for more, tangling in the belt around his waist as his hips rock against yours.

“You’re safe now.”

You hum in distracted agreement, something much more welcome than panic thrumming in your veins.

He’s there with you, hand roaming - fingers dipping under the hem of your tunic. Bunching it up until he can brush the bare skin at your waist. A thigh nudging between yours, your own face reflected back in the shining visor.

Eyes half-lidden, with kiss-swollen lips.

“Din.” You whine, and he groans.

Hips rolling slowly against yours, just as the sound of his name echos.

Lower, this time. Modulated, like his.

The fingers slide from your shirt, but he stays close - twisting so he’s half-blocking you from sight.

From the sight of the Mandalorian that fills the doorway - tall and broad in his painted, blue armor. A cock of his head, as his arms cross over a thick chest.

“You did not tell us you took a riduur during your stay,” Amusement tinging his words, even through the helmet, “No wonder you were in such a rush to return.”

Another word to figure out - as Din’s posture stiffens, shifting closer to you. His hands on the wall, keeping you tucked carefully between them.

“What do you want?” He asks, not bothering to hide his own annoyance.

“Your friend, the Grand Magistrate, is requesting our presence.” There’s the low rumble of a laugh, “Or should I tell him you’re too busy?”

“We’ll be right there, Vizsla.”

It’s a dismissal, and the other Mandalorian takes it. Leaving the two of alone for a moment to make some swift adjustments.

The heat lingering in your cheeks, at getting caught. Grateful that the visitor wasn’t a few minutes later - certain that sight would have been a lot more than he bargained for.

A gloved hand is wrapped in yours, as you head back into the light.

Where Karga is waiting, ready to thank them. A generous gift offered - the land from the western lava flats to Bulloch Canyon, ceded to the Mandalorians.

His smile bright, as he tells them, “You may no longer have a home planet, but you do now have a home.”

———

That edge is tempered, now that Din knows you’re alright. But there’s a part that still lingers as he’s surrounded by his kin, his words clipped and short.

Stuck helping with negotiations - getting the ships moved to the landing pads, instead of hastily exited.

Unhappily separated, as you’re pulled into your own work. The city littered with debris and broken buildings. Bodies and smoldering fires.

Better to stay outside for one more night - to begin together, at dawn.

The best warriors sent in just to grab supplies. Coming back with materials to set up small camps, tents.

You work on your own, cozy enough for two. Not needing much more space, after hearing that Grogu would be staying safe with the other foundlings. Finding a spot to the edge of the camp of the Mandalorians, hoping Din will be able to find you.

Exhaustion tugging at you as you curl in the bedding, determined to wait up for him. That dull thrumming persisting between your thighs, even now.

Anticipating his return.

But the soft glow that the fire casts on the canvas starts to tug you under. Hazy with sleep when his voice finally comes, the sky an inky indigo above.

The soft call of your name.

A body lowering next to yours. Curling behind you, and you’re so relieved and content that you don’t mind the cold bite of the beskar against the thin fabric of your top.

A stiffness lingers in the way he holds you. As you’re unable to help arching back, his breath crackling harshly through the vocoder as your ass presses against him.

An arm, wrapping around you - his hand splaying across your stomach when you do it again. The thrust of his hips as he meets you this time, grinding himself against you.

“I need you.”

His words - low and rough - make you clench.

Rocking against him with more intent, as his bare hands begin to roam, like before. Rucking up your shirt so he can touch bare skin.

“I thought I would be too late.”

He can say it now, when it’s dark.

When it’s just the two of you.

Those worries finally breaking through the armor, spilling out from the cracks. Extracted, by the feeling of your body against his.

Letting himself breath for the first time in hours. An urge to feel every inch of you, to make sure you are truly okay. Wanting to make you forget, with the only way he knows how.

“You have me.” You tell him, catching his hand - dragging it up to your mouth. Pressing a kiss against the calloused knuckles, fingers warm in yours, “I believed in you.”

It feels silly now, that you ever doubted. Even for the brief second.

His groan is low, the edge of the helmet biting into your shoulder. Hand pulling free so he can grasp at the edge of your leggings - your hips rising so he can push them down.

Leaving them twisted around your thighs as his hand follows, dipping between them. Cupping you, where you’re molten. Aching, from that moment when he kissed you - replaying it over and over in the tent while you waited.

The tips of his fingers finding where you’re slick - rubbing tight circles, like he did in the springs. Each pass sends a little jolt down your spine, a flicker of pleasure in your brain.

Your breath short and sharp as you flex into his touch - a low whine when he pulls away to free himself. Feeling the heavy, velvety curve as it nudges against your ass. Damp fingers smearing your slick across a thigh as he lifts it.

Fitting his length between them, pressing it snug against your wet pussy. Petting at your clit again, as he thrusts.

Fingers focused - no teasing tonight. Gliding over the senstive bud as he grinds against you, fucking your thighs with his swollen cock. The ridge pressing against your folds as his hips roll, adding to your mounting pleasure.

Each pass brings you higher.

Each slide of his hips coming easier, as your arousal slicks up his cock. Dragging against you - making you want to just tilt your hips, so during the next pass, he’ll nudge inside.

Instead, your fingers drift beneath your shirt. Teasing your breast as the other hand makes a fist around the tip of his cock, a gentle pressure when his hips press flush against yours.

His groan joins yours, his pace stuttering.

That low voice coming out ragged, as your thighs tighten around him, “Come on my fingers, and you can have it.”

It has you clenching around nothing, a jerk of your hips into his touch.

“Please,” you moan, the familiar heat pooling in your belly. Winding with each swipe, as he presses just a little bit harder.

“Know you can,” He breathes, “Know you’re close.”

And you are - muscles tight as your focus narrows down to just his fingers. The heavy drag of his cock, so wet as it drags across sensitive skin.

The arm he has tucked under his head shoves beneath you, pressing between your breasts as he holds you tightly against him.

His breath ragged, loud through his helmet - only adding to the sensations that flood you. You own breath trapped in your chest, as everything strings tight.

Each gasping “oh” sending you higher. So close that your eyes screw shut - and when his cock catches against your entrance again, your fingers move.

A hitch of your hips as you guide the tip inside - Din’s moan filthy in your ear.

You come, as he’s pressing into you. Each shallow snap of his hips sinks him deeper, giving you something to clench around as you cry out his name.

A low groan that sounds close to a snarl, as he feels you. Hears your voice break on his name, pride flooding through him.

Not caring that someone else might hear.

Not this time.

Not when you’re pulsing around him, hot and wet and warm. Stiff in his arms as the spark flickers down your limbs, as you senselessly grind back against him.

Riding out the waves - until the fire that floods through you cools down to an ember, warm and low in your belly.

He pulls back, then - your moan pitiful as he leaves you empty. Urging you onto your stomach, as his weight presses against your back.

A sloppy thrust of his hips sends his cock against the curve of your ass, your thighs, before he finds you again.

Entering you with a long, slow thrust - punching the air from your lungs. His chest pressed against your back, braced on his forearms as his shoulder curl around yours.

Helmet biting into your shoulder as he pulls half-out, only to bury himself again.

“Fuck, mesh’la,” He groans, the words drawn out. You can only moan in response, as he splits you open, “So fucking perfect. My sweet girl.”

It’s needy, desperate. Clothes pushed to the side as needed, your legs pressed between his knees. His armor solid when it presses against you, the tent filling with the creak of the leather straps, the smack of skin on skin as he fills you.

Laid out, underneath him, fingers curling into the blankets as he pulls each soft sound from you.

Your thighs still bound by your leggings, making him feel even bigger, deeper, than last time. A little wiggle of your hips as you try to meet his thrusts, moaning against the bedding.

Half-finding your voice, panting the words out, “Feels so good. Gods, I missed you-“

His response a rough hum of agreement - nearly past words with his need. Managing a gritted out, “missed you, too” as his hips snap against yours.

Grinding himself deep, his cock dragging against your walls. Bumping that spongey spot that makes you see stars, over and over.

Until you can’t resist - until you’re shoving an arm between your stomach and the bedding. Reaching desperately between your thighs.

Fingers touching down on soaked skin, splitting around where he’s buried in you. Feeling the slide of his shaft, as his weight presses into just a little more.

It’s bliss, as your fingertips circle your clit. The heavy weight of him - the deep, pounding thrusts.

Din’s voice, so low in your ear. An edge that drives you wild, “I’m, fuck-”

He shifts, just barely slowing, “Want you to come with me. Can you do that?”

If he keeps it up, you know you can. Sending his cock against that spot, paired with the stroke of your fingers.

“Yes,” You manage, “So close-”

His reply is groaned out, a tremor in the way he holds himself. Losing that steady rhythm as your hips tilt, as he sinks just a tiny bit deeper. Listening to the way your breath changes - faster, higher.

Until his arm is shifting, the twist of his wrist as he reaches for your free one. Fingers entwining in yours, as your own vision starts to go hazy.

“Cyare, I can’t-” The words sound frustrated, but he can stop the rutting of his hips - so close to his own release. Trying to draw it out for you. Unable to hold back, as he feels you spread out beneath him.

“Wanna feel you,” You beg him, “Please, Din-”

Fingers circling quickly, feeling yourself tighten up again. His thrusts rough now, breath loud as he falls to the sound of your begging.

A pretty, drawn-out groan as he presses himself deep. Your name, mixed in with his breath as his cock throbs. Shallow thrusts with each pulse that ripples through him, as he empties himself.

It sends you over. Full of him as you come, milking him dry as your thighs clench. Shattering with white-hot pleasure, as he holds you - everything else seeming to fade, to grow soft and hazy.

Taking you a second to realize the strangled moans are yours, mixing with his soft, soothing praises.

Staying pressed together until your breathing returns to normal. Until he’s carefully sliding from you, and you’re doing your best to clean up, dripping and sticky with him.

Finding each other again after, in the darkness of the tent. Not wanting to be apart - not after today.

It feels like a weight been carved out of you. Leaving you hollow, in the darkness. Pressed up against him, though for the first time in days - you can breathe.

A comfort in the tents that surround you. The warmth of the fires, the city now silent.

“I don’t know what waits for us inside.” Your words are whispered out into the night. Guilt still gnaws at you, as you remember your promise, “I am so sorry that I couldn’t protect our home.”

“You did the right thing. That man’s cruelty is not your fault.” A palm strokes down your arm, your cheek pressed against his bare chest. Feeling the rumble of his words as they comfort you.

“If anything, it is mine.”

It has your head tilting up, chin pressing into this skin. Frowning, as you repeat his words back to him, “His cruelty is not your fault either. I heard what Karga said. They shot first. They chose to return.”

He makes a sound of uncertainty, as silence settles. A long moment passing, before you’re unable to help asking. Clarifying.

"Are you really going to stay, this time?"

The hand moves to your back then, pulling you closer. Tucking you further against him, until your nose is brushing the warm skin of his neck. Filling your senses with him - his voice, the warm, familiar scent of leather and metal and him.

"Yes, cyare." He soothes, "We'll stay. And if anything has happened to our home… we'll rebuild."

And you can hear the smile in his voice then, the word home. Because it was before, and it still is, now.

A finality in the way he says it. His own comfort in knowing that you're safe. In knowing that his culture will flourish here - that the children of the covert will feel what it is to play in the sunlight, once again.

“Together."

But if you send for me, you know I'll come

And if you call for me, you know I'll run

I'll run to you, I'll run to you

I'll run, run, run

(Mando’a: mesh’la - beautiful / cyare & cyar’ika - sweetheart / riduur - spouse)

#thank you lovely 💕#comment rb #thinking of queue

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ivystoryweaver · 3 months ago

Note

Hello amazing writer-person.

May I request the following…

"i cannot stand you, and yet i also cannot stand to be away from you."

… with our moody baby Marc Spector 🌙

(Congrats on the 500, you rock) 🎉

TY & ILY! 💜 (not me finally finishing my oldest request)

Luminous white orbs fixed on you as he cinched you close to his side. "It's a full moon. Try not to scream...at least not until I get your pants off."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Content: f!reader, action, violence, smut, Marc is a cheeky bastard because let him have fun sometimes

Word Count: 1.5k

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

"Give me your hand." Moon Knight's white, bandaged arm reached for yours, but your stubbornness alone stopped you as you wrenched yourself free of his grasp.

"I don't need you to hold my hand," you told him, peering over the building's edge to the street below, several stories down. "I'm gonna jump."

"The hell you are," he protested, yanking on your arm. "Hold on to me. I'll get you down."

Although he wasn't tall for a superhero, he was strong enough to make a point.

"You can't even fly. How are you supposedly going to 'get me down'?"

Luminous white orbs fixed on you as he cinched you close to his side. "It's a full moon. Try not to scream...at least not until I get your pants off."

You couldn't see his face but you were certain he was smirking.

He leapt over the side of the building, dragging you with him. Despite how much you wanted to resist his help, you couldn't fly, and you didn't want to die, so you held on tightly, tucking yourself into him - arms wound around him trustingly and your face pressed into the gauzey fabric covering his throat.

He smelled like ancient secrets and sun drenched sands. Warm and woody, enticing your eyes closed as you entrusted your life to his embrace.

The wind in his cape, the power of the full moon and his years of experience helped him slow your shared descent through the night sky. Hitting the pavement with an inconsequential thud, you barely had time to get your footing before he grabbed your hand again. "Let's go."

"I think I can take it from here, Lunar Legionnaire." You mockingly tossed out one of his recent media nicknames, wrenching your hand away from his, but following his lead to an abandoned warehouse.

"In here," he directed. "Those things are still following us. They have our scent."

"Then we better not stay here," you reasoned. "Unless the great Fist of Khonshu needs to catch his breath?"

"Hilarious." White eyes narrowed into judgmental slits. "You're the one panting, sweetheart." He moved in closer. "Or were you that excited to be close to me?"

Before you could smart off, you heard a metallic rattle and then a growl. Jackals. Supernatural, invisible jackals.

But he could see them.

"Get behind me," he ordered.

Which of course you did not, shouldering right past him. "Thanks for the ride down, but I work alone."

He groaned, squeezing his wrapped hands into fists. After bouncing on his toes for a moment, he reluctantly followed. "Got your six."

His gaze fell to the sway of your leather clad hips, down over your curves.

"That's an interesting way of letting me know you're staring at my ass."

"That's an interesting way of pretending we haven't worked four missions together."

"Look who's counting," you teased.

"Counting on this being the last one, maybe. You have a death wish or something. I'm always saving your - "

Moon Knight didn't even finish his sentence before you whirled around and leapt in his direction, firing your wrist rockets into the jackal right behind him. He ducked just in time.

And that sound drew the rest of them.

"Nice work," he groaned, racing past you, breaking into a sprint as he called back over the swish of his cape, "It's gonna be a long night."

“Hey, you’re the one following me.”

The two of you spent the next annoying half hour eliminating invisible foes, working in tandem, despite you both maintaining your loner status, at least mentally.

You finally ducked into an alley, grateful for a breather.

"Are there any more of them?" You gasped, gripping your knees as you doubled over, winded from your exertion.

"Not that I see," Moon Knight answered, giving you a once over. He didn't get as tired as you, but then again, you didn't have superpowers. It felt kind of endearing to see you not perfectly put together.

"You know, you look good like this," he commented, moving into your personal space. "Sweating. Panting. I feel like I've seen it somewhere."

He tapped his gloved finger on his masked chin, pretending to think. "Was it the last time I saved your ass?"

As badly as you wanted to retort, you were still a bit out of breath.

"Oh I remember," he went on, yanking a crescent dagger from the center of his chest. He backed you up against the wall, pinning you in place with his hips. "It was the last time you were underneath me...in Dubai."

"Bullshit. I was on top," you panted, eyes fixed on his weapon, feeling wetness pool between your legs as he pressed his obvious erection against your core. "What's that for?"

He traced the pointed dagger's edge over your bottom lip before flicking his wrist, expertly cutting through the thick fabric of your mask. Before he could pull it free and reveal your face, you struggled against him as your hand darted up to keep your mask in place.

"What the hell?" You snapped, even though you physically responded eagerly to the friction between your bodies. "No faces. That was your rule."

"Don't you ever break the rules?" He challenged, stashing his dagger and gripping your hips. Thrusting against you with a seductive pulse, he dragged you back and forth over his straining length.

"Show me yours first," you ordered, still holding your mask in place with one hand. Strangely enough, this man had been inside you twice, but you had yet to lay eyes on who he really was.

Without hesitation, he complied. His gauzey mask disappeared, revealing a man far more handsome than you expected. Dark, soulful eyes peered into yours, such a beautiful contrast to the haunting white glow.

You stared as his gaze flickered down to your parted lips.

"That bad, huh?" He half joked, quickly summoning the supernatural fabric to cover his angular features once more.

You swallowed thickly, the thought of sinking your fingers into his dark curls convincing you to slowly lower your mask, pulling it free from your face and hair.

Tilting his head, as if studying you, Moon Knight shook his head playfully. "The magic is gone."

You slugged him on the arm as he chuckled, amused with himself.

"I can't stand you."

His mask disappeared again, instantly. "I can't stand to be away from you."

His lips crashed into yours with unrestrained fervor, the force of it taking what little breath you'd regained.

You sighed into his mouth as his tongue slid over yours. Tangling your fingers into his hair, you twisted your way through his curls, which were every bit as gorgeous and soft as you expected.

"Can you make a useful part of this damn suit disappear?" You huffed, tearing your mouth from his.

Yanking at the leather of your pants, he worked you free, hoisting your thick thighs around his waist. Then, as you were anticipating, just enough of his suit vanished so that he could push his heavy, pulsing length up inside you.

"Been waiting for this all night."

“That’s an interesting way of saying you’re obsessed with me.” Despite your biting commentary, you sank against him in relief, your head thumping against the brick wall behind you, its rough surface scraping against the curve of your ass. But you didn't care. He was your drug and you were getting your fix.

"Look at me," he lowly commanded, gripping the nape of your neck and staring possessively into your eyes. Heavy, deep thrusts sent your body bucking against his. "Like that?"

"Yes, right there. Feels good."

"Thought you worked alone, sweetheart." His lips curled as your eyes flashed with defiance. "You think you can get yourself off like this?"

You shuddered, your velvet walls fluttering, clenching at the sound of his infuriating voice.

"Nah...I think we work better together.”

"Just...shut up. Keep doing that. Faster."

He went slower. But deeper, hitting something devastating within you.

"Saving your ass from jackals is worth the look on your face when you come for me."

And as if his voice alone could control your body, you came undone, your body betraying your stubborn mind, agreeing with him. And, as predicted, you might have screamed a little.

The glint in his eye didn't last long as you shuddered around him, gripping him so deliciously that he actually moaned. It sounded so good coming out of his plush lips. His clenched, corded neck tensed and bobbed as sweat dripped from a singular curl.

The sight of him losing control because of you was worth a bout with jackals and all the danger that came with it.

His hips stuttered as he tried to pull out of you, but you clamped your thighs around him and held him captive. "Stay right here."

The longer you gazed at him, the more you wanted to never see that stupid white mummy mask cover his face, ever again.

Hot breath fell on your ear as he took a minute to come back to himself.

Easing back, he touched his forehead to yours - a gentle contrast to the scandalous public encounter you'd shared.

"I'm Marc."

You felt lighter somehow, sharing a laugh with him before he kissed you deeply.

"Nice to meet you."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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