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vacayisland · 5 months

Note

I have the largest hyper fixation on Floyd right now. Funny little troll being way too cute for it to be legal.

do you think you could write a story where a male / Non-binary reader that's like, a large person thing, (You can make them part animal if possible, I like the idea of Floyd hiding in the readers fur for comfort.) is reunited with Floyd after he was stick in the diamond perfume bottle for 2 months. And they just give Floyd a bunch of comfort cuddles and other stuff.

Take all the time you need to rest and drink water, if you can't do my request, that's perfectly fine. I hope you have an amazing day / night!

-A non-binary bee 🐝

@!; Floyd with a part-animal Reader! Floyd / Half-animal! Half-Troll! Reader

"Summary"! Couldn't tell if you meant big like tall or big like cubby... so why not both? :D Anyways, there are more headcanon style with little stories in it. Dunno when I'll post this (I have like 5 other stories backed up b/c my mind can't decide what to write); But I hope you like it Bee! Tags! Floyd literally being everything, no pronouns mentioned so feel free to use your own, hurt-comfort, NOT PROOF READ... also wrote in one sitting... in one day. AND TUMBLR KEPT GLITCHING ON ME AND THE PITCTURE BORDER ISN'T WORKING ON DESKTOP-. anyways please enjoy <3

@!; Floyd has known you since his band days, which was a shock to his brothers when they finally met you. Not only are you taller than an average troll (a foot or so) yet you're also different; and mostly in a good way, but take what you will about the fact that Branch noticed your differences first. When Floyd first met you, it was 2 months into his boyband career with Brozone. He went out on a walk to clear his head before a big show, anxious feels were never good to go on stage with and his brothers didn't help much. Mostly John Dory, who kept speaking about his "perfect" plan to the show. Just thinking about messing up anything made Floyd more nervous than preforming, he really didn't want to let his brothers down; as he's seen them preform before he was able to join on the scene. So while JD ranted, Spruce worked out, and Clay was fitting into his costume, Floyd went out on a needed walk. That's when he found you;

You were stood up top a mountain cliff near the Pop troll village, looking down with your majestic eyes and ears relaxed down by your side. Floyd stood by the village though hid in the shade of the plants nearby to watch. He didn't want to scare you off, especially since he's never seen anything quite like you. You seemed memorized by the lights of the Pop troll village, if not maybe a little intoxicated by them; like a moth to the flame. Floyd was memorized by your shiny coat, which he could barely see against the night sky and the bright colors of the village. You didn't seem to notice him at all as you laid down at that cliff, crossing your paws and laying your muzzle down on them. Floyd wasn't sure why but watching you watching the lights of the village calmed his nerves. Even though it was still a little nerve racking thinking that an animal so big knows were the village was; an animal who could possibly eat Trolls. Yet, that thought was quickly wavering out of his mind the more passive you seemed. @!; Floyd almost missed the show that night, Spruce had to go find him before JD blew a fuse. He was questioned like hell the few seconds before the show and then afterwards, yet he couldn't exactly tell his brothers that he saw an animal watching the village and that's what he was doing. They would be both over worried and a little relentless in scolding him for getting so close to something that could eat trolls. His absence of an answer, and his general dodging of the brothers questions (when that was so not like Floyd) led them all to assume that Floyd met a Troll that had caught his eye. Floyd tried to protest against this, yet was a little flustered at the fact that all his brothers seemed to jump on that conclusion train so quickly. So, that only solidified his brother's theories more and thus began the hunt. All his brothers kept an extra eye on Floyd, trying to see who the lucky Troll had been who caught there ever so sensitive brother's eyes. Despite all their "sneaky" tracking and slight stalking, they came up with nothing. Floyd was determined to let them not know what, or maybe who, he actually saw that night. So he didn't see you again until his brothers gave up on their little hunt and let Floyd to his own devices. Especially after he almost messed up a show due to nerves from not being able to go out on a walk without his brother's bombardment; JD wasn't happy. 3 months after first seeing you, Floyd was able to catch a glimpse of you again. Before a show, he looked out the window (not needing to go out on a walk that night) and saw your figure again in the distance on the same hill. You were relaxed again, laying down and looking intently towards the Village. In some weird sense, Floyd had a funny thought that you were here to listen to the concert; seeing as he didn't see you on any other night than concert nights. Yet, he shook that thought out of his head really quick, not thinking that you could like Brozone music. Not that it was because you weren't a Troll, but because he thought it was too loud for your ears; he's read somewhere that animal ears tended to be more sensitive than Troll ears. But then why would you be so close to the Village? The thought stuck in Floyd's mind all throughout the performance and when he checked if you were still at the cliff after the show, you were gone. He couldn't tell if it was because of the noise or because the show had ended; but he felt a little disheartened.

@!; Floyd would play this one-sided game of eye-spy for months before he spotted a night when you weren't you. He had began to make it a habit to leave you a little plate of food (well little for you) before every Brozone performance. His personal thank you for watching the show despite your (maybe) sensitives ears. He was going to go place the plate of food at the top of the cliff when he stopped midway through his hike to see a Troll standing at the top of the cliff. At least, it looked like a Troll? Yet they seemed taller, even more so when Floyd slowly approached closer. Your hair also was more abundant than other Trolls, even for adults. He was cautious as he approached you, keeping the plate of food close to him as he tried to scope out who you were before he interacted. Yet before he could figure out who you were, you snapped your head around to stare into the dead of night . . . directly at him. Floyd froze, not sure if you could see him or not and not wanting to find out. Though it was light you weren't even a Troll for a second, taking in a sniff before your hair stood up for a moment; prickling like a cat's hair standing up when frightened. Slowly you approached him with heavy footsteps, your height slowly growing in the moonlight as your shadow was drawn out. For a moment Floyd thought he was as good as dead. He didn't know what to do! Frazzled, he quickly shoved out the plate of food he had indented for his friend and not this stranger about to commit (possible) cannibalism. And that's when he heard your footsteps come to a stop and a heavy huff from someone's nose hit the top of his head, causing him to cautiously open one eye. And he felt like fainting as soon as he did that. Though he couldn't help opening both eyes in complete terror seeing a Troll tower over him in an unnatural height. Your eyes pierced down at him, their glow in the moonlight somehow familiar yet Floyd could not piece it together at this moment of panic. "Please don't eat me!" Floyd blurted out, the only thing between him and you being a plate of food. Yet you didn't answer, at least not right away. Your silence was as terrifying as your glare and staggering height. "I promise you I don't taste good!-" The words fell out before Floyd had even realized he had said them, watching with terror as you leant down. He wasn't sure what you were doing, but he hoped it wasn't serving your next meal's horror before deciding whether or not you should eat him. Yet there was something in your eyes that softened, a small smile that seemed to creep onto your lips. And for once after meeting you in this form, Floyd felt like he wasn't going to get mauled. Which was a good thing, a really good thing... For him at least. "So you're the one who's been leaving me food!" Your voice was not at all how he imagined it, as it seemed to carry some sort of friendliness he's not even heard from some Trolls. It was also a bit rougher, your English oddly unperfected for a Troll for the age Floyd guessed you were. "I-.. uh, what?" Though what did you mean Floyd was leaving you food? Maybe you were confusing him for someone else, or maybe you were eating the food he intended for his friend. Either way he tried to clear the confusion, "I'm sorry no, I don't think so. I've been leaving food here for.." "Yes, for me." You interrupted Floyd before he could finish, giving him a rather big grin. Yet, no matter how friendly you seemed, your words caused him to become that more confuddled. Even more so when you held out your hands flat, as though you were expected Floyd to just hand you the plate ... really incorrectly. He thought for a brief moment that you may be related to the animal that perches itself at the cliffside, though he didn't think too long on that possibility; as would it even be possible?

Either way, to save some trouble for now, Floyd carefully handed you the plate of food; watching as you held it from the bottom flat in your hands and grinned brighter before rushing off to the side of the cliff. He wasn't sure if he should follow you or not. "Come, friend! We eat to show!" You gestured for Floyd to follow as you sat at the iconic cliff he's seen the animal so many times. And despite his hesitation, and his logicality telling him not to, he deiced to join the Troll. I mean, what could be the harm? Floyd almost missed his performance that day. JD wasn't happy yet, oddly enough, something inside Floyd made him rather indifferent. Not uncaring, because he always cared about his brothers feelings and letting down JD was last on his list; yet, he didn't care as much as he should have. And that caught him by suprise. He wondered if it had to do something with you...

@!; The day the band broke up, Floyd went to seek you first. You two had grown close after the countless nights you spent upon the cliff, chatting and eating. Floyd just couldn't stand being able to leave without giving you a proper goodbye, you have been his closest friend outside his family after all. He found you lower on the cliff this day, still stalking in your animal form. Your ears were completely pinned back, and he was sure you had saw what had happened during that performance; it was the biggest disaster storm ever. "Hey! H-" Floyd didn't even have to call you twice before you perked up, snapping your attention over to him. He grew sheepish seeing your sudden smile, and he could only guess you had been utterly worried about him since the performance. Though he didn't expect you to be so worried you would bound towards him on all fours, causing him to yelp and quickly brace for impact. Yet, you never hit, and Floyd heard as you skidded yourself to a stop right in front of him and plopped down on your bottom. Letting out an excited yelp before licking him once, then twice. Causing him to laugh and try to push your snout away, a silent signal for you to turn back into a Troll. Which you didn't seem to get the hint for instantly, as you licked him thrice before standing up and twirling in a circle. Laughing, Floyd covered his eyes and let you turn back, opening them only when he heard your voice again; "Floyd! What in the hell happened out there?! One minute you guys were doing fine and it seemed like-" Your voice was as lovely as ever, and Floyd instantly felt a pang in his heart knowing he wouldn't be able to hear it as often anymore. His face became rather gloomy at that sudden realization he hadn't thought of before now. Maybe visiting you wasn't- no, he can't think like that! You deserved the truth as much as Branch did. He can't simply walk off and keep you sitting here, watching and wondering where he had gone for years on end. That wasn't right. "(y/n)!" Floyd jolted at the suddenness of his voice, and how firm it sounded. He didn't mean for his words to come out so harsh, though your ranting didn't do much to help his heart... or the decision he knew he had to make. Oh and your eyes, the way they shone in the moonlight. Floyd could see how startled he had made you, as he's never used such a voice with you; yet it had done the job and hushed you up, even for now. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to scare you. I just-" Floyd's lip twitched as he thought for the easiest way to blow this to you. The easiest way to let you down after all the nights you had spent together. The easiest way for him to accept everything that was happening and everything he had to do and everything that needed to be done.. but oh poor Branch and poor you, neither of you deserved this- "Floyd.. it's okay." Floyd was brought back to his thoughts, snapped back with the feeling of your hands grabbing his and your voice echoing in his ears. He opened his seized eyes and glanced up at yours; you were leaning down again, and Floyd laughed through the tears he didn't realize were spilling down. "You're doing it again.." Floyd mumbled, his voice wobbly. Your hands raced to his cheeks, cupping them and undoubtably feeling the hot, wet tears streaming down as you began to clear them. Floyd dropped his hands to his sides, they felt all to heavy right now. "No you're doing it again." Your voice was uncharacteristically steady, none if it's usual fluctuating like a dog excited to see it's owner. "You're overthinking and... and thinking of everyone else before you think about yourself! Floyd, whatever you're going to say to me, whatever you're keeping in that mind of yourself, you're going to tell me now, okay? And you're going to tell me and you're not going to worry about how I feel and you're going to be firm on your decision... because you're strong and we're friends and I won't be mad with you no matter what you tell me."

@!; That night, Floyd knew, for sure, that he was in love with you. And that made telling you all that harder as his heart yelled at his brain to stay, but his brain knew that they couldn't go back on their choice. He had to leave, even if for a week or month or year. He knew he needed space from the Village and everyone inside.. but not you and Branch. Defiantly not you. And oh the broken look in your eyes got him, but the way you tried to smile through it and agree that the space is what he needed made him fall even more in love. You were so strong, you kept to your word... Maybe Floyd could stay one more night. And he did, he cuddled up with you for his last night in the Village; you both watched the stars, all cozied up in your hair. And god, has Floyd never felt a Troll's' hair so soft. He almost couldn't pull himself out from it in the morning when you were still clinging onto him, trapping him with both your body and your hair. He felt tempted to doze back to sleep, yet knew he had to leave now (while he still had the will power) then wait before you woke up. He knew if he saw your broken look again, that look in your eyes that you could never hide, he couldn't bring himself to leave. So when you woke up in the morning, you found yourself alone; completely alone in a middle of your blanket made of your hair. Floyd had left before you had woke up and you would find yourself sulking in that position for longer than you would have thought.

@!; You didn't see Floyd again, yet you heard from him up till a few years into his exploration of the unknown; journeying to find himself in the chaotic world beyond the village. You didn't leave from the outskirts of the Pop village, as that's were you had figured out you could thrive the most without interacting with other Trolls or animals. So when Floyd's letters began to run dry, you knew it wasn't because he didn't know where to send it. No that's never been a problem before, especially with the bugs that were used to deliver the messages so they never went through Troll post. You had first thought that he had forgotten to write a letter that day and he would send you one tomorrow. He didn't. You then figured he was just somewhere where he couldn't right or get a bug to deliver the letter. But after a month of sitting and waiting anxiously, you figured that couldn't be the reason either. Floyd never stayed in a place for this long, and the letter he had sent you last made it sound like he was going to a place where he could continue to send letters. Another option came to mind, what if Floyd had just stopped sending letter because he just grew tired of you? He found someone else who captured his attention better than you did! Who could write in pretty cursive and spell words and speak correctly. Who could bake for him pies and cupcakes, who could sing and dance with him in the proper way that a Troll could. That was the first day you ever felt truly alone ever since Floyd left. Sure, you missed him dearly; Missed his smile and his caring ways and his company but never did you ever feel truly lonely. The type of lonely that made you upset and aggravated. The type of lonely that stung more than a throne in your paw, or a bee sting. The type of lonely that made you think back on all the memories you had with Floyd and made you think two different thoughts all at once: What was the point? Can I get those times back? It was torture. Two months of agonizing torture that ate you up inside with no remorse.

@!; Two months inside that horrible diamond prison, Floyd was finally free. Sure he had some white in his hair now, and felt fatigue come onto him easier when singing, but he was free; Free and with his brothers heading back to the Pop Troll village where Brozone (kind of reestablished) was going to chill for a minute before maybe going back their separate ways. "Oh my god, did we ever tell you that Floyd use to have a crush in the village when he was younger?!" JD turned around from the console of his caterpillar-like trailer, a snicker plastered right across his face. His comment instantly flipped the attention of everyone else, who had been lounging around the 'living space' of the trailer and chatting about nothing exciting. At least, nothing exciting to John Dory. "Oh! I almost forgot about that!" Bruce started as Branch looked between his brothers, noticing as Floyd let out a small groan and covered his face. "Oh not this gain..." Floyd mumbled, though not completely under his breath. "What?! JD you have to be joking right now!" Poppy jumped to a start, Viva seemed to be right beside her; jumping to her sister's side, placing her hands on Poppy's shoulders with such interest you would think JD had just brought up party plans. "Oh I'm so not joking." JD couldn't help but laugh, crossing his arms. "Floyd used to sneak off before the start of every show and see his little crush! It was so cute." And there was the teasing tone that Floyd could never forget. He hadn't hoped they didn't bring up this topic, but now he wished he had begged on his knees to anything above that his brothers had forgotten. "Oooh~ Floyd! Who was the lucky troll?" Viva questioned, mirroring her sister's excitement yet with a slight more mature feeling. "Well-" Floyd couldn't even begin before JD took over again. "We never got the chance to see them!" "Oh yeah, and we tried hard too. Stalked Floyd anytime he went out to see if we could find any sort of glimpse on who this Troll was. But we never found them." Clay informed, leaning back against the couch as an amused glint crossed his eyes; he glanced over to Floyd, who was still hiding his head. "Can we PLEASE change the topic?!" Floyd begged, but he guessed that his humiliation was much too entertaining to his brothers (mostly JD). "Nope! Never got the chance to see them. It was like- the biggest mystery in all of BroZone history." JD made this sound more ominous than it needed to be. More mysterious than a unclosed murder case that was more boggling than answerable. His serious tone didn't help it either. "Oh my god, Viva!-" Poppy turned to her sister, who held a knowing look. "To the clue board?" "To the clue board! Don't worry we'll find this troll." Poppy exploded like a star as Viva and her rushed over to the clue board that Branch had set up. They didn't waste time before they began to excitedly chat over possibly candidates and theories. Floyd felt more embarrassed than the day his brothers had started that whole mess, and he wasn't sure how that was even possible! Branch watched the two sisters for a moment before turning over to his brothers, thoroughly confused, "Wait... why did no one tell me this?!"

@!; Floyd wasn't sure how he would break this news to his brothers, but all he knew is that he needed to get to you first. He knew you just as you knew him, and he knew his disappearance would have a cause for concern... or maybe alarm or distress. Everything that Floyd didn't want you to feel when you thought about him because he should be your safe space and you had been his. "Guys! I'll be right back." Floyd shouted to his brothers when the caterpillar bus had came to a stop in front of the Pop village; And Floyd was sure he literally flew out the door with more force than necessary before he began to run down the village. "Bring them home for dinner!" Floyd could hear JD's sly remark before he was no longer in earshot of the van. Though he was sure he could hear something about "Kids growing up too fast" and some shared lighthearted laughter. Floyd couldn't care at the moment; not when all his brain buzzed about was finding you and making sure you were okay. What if you had gotten hurt during your time of no communication. What if you began to think that Floyd no longer cared for you or that something had happened to your or- Floyd's mind raced faster than he could keep up with and it felt like he was no longer racing against time yet against his own thoughts; not thinking about the fact that he had crossed the village in record time or that his brothers watched him rush straight into the woods by that cliff he had found a friend on and then love. That cliff where he had stargazed with you and shared thoughts he hadn't shared with anyone else. That cliff where you had showed him your way of life and let him closer than any other Troll had been with you. That cliff were everything happened in a secret silence that felt just right. That cliff were time seemed to stop. That cliff where he first found your eyes and saw your face last when he left. That cliff.. That cliff. That cliff!- Floyd was jolted away from the edge of the cliff, something he didn't realize he was just about to run off due to being lost in his emotion. A firm grip on the back of his pants had yanked him away, throwing him down onto the floor as now someone was between him and that cliff. "Are you crazy?! You were about to throw yourself off!-" Floyd didn't expect his baby brother's voice to shout at him and snap him out of his flurry of thoughts. He didn't expect Branch to be the one to stand there between him and the cliff. It was meant to be you. Not that he was meaning to throw himself off a cliff to find you, he would never put that type of trauma onto anyone or even think about such as thing. But you were meant to be here, meant to greet him on this cliff, meant to... where were you? Floyd didn't answer his brother as he scrambled onto his feet, numb from the running. He didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care. He began to look around frantically, up and down the cliff, left and right. He rushed to some bushed and trees and tried looking more in depth as Branch stood there; never having seen his brother so disorientated and frazzled. "Floyd? Floyd!" Branch tried to get his brother's attention, "Floyd what are you looking for?" You. Where were you? Floyd didn't realize he didn't answer his brother; he had thought he had, but he didn't. He simply jumped off a rock and to the lower side of the cliff before he continued his search. Branch cautiously followed him, slowly lowering himself down from the rock and onto the ground. He watched Floyd look everywhere before Floyd jolted to a stop and stared in front of him. "(Y/N)!" It was a pained cry as Floyd rushed forward, pushing himself off of a tree to give himself a boost. "Floyd!" Branch yelled, following his brother in a panic. "Floyd you can't run into the forest around the village they're dangerous! Flo-" And Branch paused seeing who his brother approached. "Floyd!"

Floyd had no hesitation rushing over to an enormous beast that laid in the middle of a field, soaking in the sun. The beast had clear patches of its fur bitten off, and Branch couldn't tell whether it was self inflicted due to nerves or if it was from a fight. It perked its ears, then its head as it heard Floyd' shouting. It scanned the field and Branch felt himself rushing over to his brother. "FLOYD!" Branch's yell fell short as he saw the beast jump to its paws and rush over to his brother. Branch felt adrenaline rush through his body as he was sure he was about to watch his brother get eaten by a rapid animal. And Branch wasn't in range to catch the beast's muzzle with his hair, and Branch was sure that Floyd wouldn't attack it for whatever reason, and- wait... what? Branch kicked up dirt as he skidded to a stop, watching at the beast popped into an unusually tall Troll who grabbed Floyd in bear hug before spinning the two around. Branch watched with so much bewilderment that he questioned what JD had put in the drink he had given him. He had to be seeing things. That beast didn't just transform into a troll, right? Branch let out an airy bit of laughter as he watched the taller Troll trip on their own legs, causing the two of them to crash down and laugh loudly. Laugh like long lost lovers or crushes who had just found each other again, some sort of star-crossed lovers situation you would only find in books. Branch let out a small huff before carefully walking over to Floyd and you on the floor, laughing like maniacs. "What happened to you?!" Floyd reached up to cup your cheeks, worry rushing to his eyes as he noticed the bits of your hair that were fried and clearly chewed off. "No! No what happened to you?!" Sure, maybe you should have answered Floyd's question before asking one but you were too worried! This man disappears off the face of the planet for 2 months with no explanation then comes back like nothing ever happened?! You wouldn't stand for it, nor would you sit or lay for it either. Your hands rushed up to his, cupping over his hands which were cupping your cheeks. "I asked the question question first!" Quipped Floyd with a cheeky, beaming grin. Oh, how you've missed that grin so much. You could just squish his cheeks and kiss him at this moment. "I'll tell you what happened to me when you explain what happened to you." "Dea-" "How about you both explain what is happening?" Branch cut in, standing nearby with crossed arms and an amused smile. Floyd shot his head up, you simply turned to the side, to see that smile and oh- Floyd for a moment thought Branch was about to use this for some sort of blackmail against their brothers. "Branch!" Floyd sat up with a startle, having forgotten his brother had been here... and that he kind of saved Floyd from running off a cliff earlier. "Who are you?" Floyd heard you ask from under him and he knew he had a lot of explaining to do in that moment. But hey, if all he had to do was introduce you to his family, and hope they would accept you for your differences, then he would do that. He would do that and more to be able to be next to you, in your arms and in your reach. He would do anything to be able to keep you close. And next time he left the village, Floyd was not leaving without you.

@!; BONUS SNIPIT

"Wait, so you're telling me you got captured by some evil green-haired people who put you into a glass bottle made of diamonds and the only way you escapes is because your family made the 'perfect family harmony'?" You asked Floyd with a childlike wonder and a mature skepticism. You both were laying in Floyd's bed, inside his bod, as crickets chirped outside a sweet melody of the night. Floyd knew it sounded unbelievable but, "I'm telling you, this story is 100 percent real." Floyd couldn't help but keep in his laughter at your expressive wide eyes. Taking advantaged of your bewilderment of the situation, Floyd attacked you by snuggling closer; wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, resting his head against your chest. He didn't have to look up at you to know you were cocking your eyebrow up in a questioning way, trying to think the logistics of the story over in your head. Yet you still wrapped your arms around Floyd's back, your hair stretching out to wrap the both of you in its fuzzy and cozy warmth. Floyd let out a deep sigh, you felt it against your chest; he missed these moments, and you did too. Moments that seemed to stand still, yet not in a boring way. In a way where Floyd got to soak up every second of being with you, and you got to soak up every second with him. Where you could feel like time was racing by, yet checked and it had only been a few minutes and you had more time to cuddle and just talk and be together than you had thought. Moments like these were the best feeling in the world. "I still don't believe you." You jokingly poke Floyd in the back, causing him to yelp and arch away from your pointy nail. You watched as he looked up at you with the most playfully challenging look; an eyebrow cocked upwards and his eyes glittering in the small light of the dimmed lamp. "Well it happened! I don't know what to tell you." He sassed back, rolling his eyes in a playful manner before he laid his head back against your chest. You tightened your arms around Floyd, which caused him to smile softly. No matter what happened, what had happened. Floyd was back now and neither of you were leaving each others side again; at least not now or in the near future unless it was forced.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#brozone x reader #floyd trolls x reader #trolls band together #floyd x reader #floyd trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls fandom #trolls 3 #trolls #trolls dreamworks #brozone #clay trolls #trolls world tour #queen poppy #trolls branch

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paper-mario-wiki · 11 months

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hey man, maybe this is a weird request, but would you be willing to make a music mashup for money? like as a commission? im not sure how it all works, but there are these two themes i think would fit absolutely perfectly together, but a brief youtube search later and i dont think anyone else has done it. you've made some pretty fun mashups before so i wanted to ask.

if you're interested at all, the two songs are Fallen Down from Undertale, and the Kakariko Village theme from A Link to the Past. no pressure to do this obviously, but if you're willing to discuss it feel free to send me a message!

Instrumental mashups, most of the time, don't really work out that well because when the chords clash it's WAY easier to tell to the untrained ear. When chords in vocals-and-instrumental mashups clash it can be a lot easier to hide because most vocals are only singing one note at a time. One C note by itself can sound natural in WAY more chords than a cMaj7th.

I cannot, in good conscious, charge you for something that I think would sound unavoidably bad.

What I CAN do, however, is make something that I think sounds unavoidably bad for free, because I know how annoying it is to hear a mashup in your brain and not be able to make it. Here's my attempt. Took me 20 minutes.

This one is a particularly awkward mashup because Kakariko village also sort of has a meandering tempo at some points but I fixed it up to the best of my ability. There are definitely some places where they match up nicer than others (the second half sounds much better than the first half), but for the majority of the runtime this is pretty unlistenable, sadly.

And if you'd still like to give me some money, despite the fact that this sounds objectively terrible, here are my paypal and cashapp tip links :^)

#tibli #audio #undertale #fallen down #link to the past #kakariko village

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bronzetomatoes · 6 months

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i do think oh so frequently about the dsmp fandom's response to c!Tommy's trauma, but it just works so well as an exaggerated example of what happens in other fandoms. like. the idea was that he was villianised by fans for turning angry and mean after being abused, which was seen as an inherent flaw rather than a trauma response, right? because it didn't fit into the way fictional abuse victims are treated like objects of pity in fandoms.

and a lot of ppl thought this was happening bc people who turn bitter and angry and lash out due to trauma are never represented in media, but... they are. lol. i can name like 3 off the top of my head, one of them being from a show made in the 70s-80s. it's just that they either got the same treatment on a smaller scale (because the DSMP fan culture was essentially a 10-year fandom compressed into a year or 2), or they just. ignore it. they pretend that they were the "perfect victim" all along, mischaracterise them in the popular fanon, turn their anger issues into a palettable sort of anxiety disorder, morph their PTSD symptoms into something sympathetic rather than what they find to be too mean or scary.

they'll insist that they're misunderstood, but what they mean is that their actions "weren't that bad" or "were perfectly justified". there's no middle ground lmao bc they can't accept that the sympathetic traumatised character could have done bad things due to said trauma without their victim deserving it. c!Tubbo didn't deserve to be told that he was worth less than the discs, but c!Tommy is not an irredeemable monster, nor was he justified in saying that. Zuko was a 16-year-old boy living in the shame caused by his abuse, and he was absolutely horrible to his crew, burned down suki's village, and constantly turned on people who were only kind to him. like this feels like such a stupid thing to type, that people can do awful things that you don't need to justify but you also don't have to hate them forever. like.

ik this felt like a DSMP-centric issue bc it was a lot of ppl's babys-first-fandom (both the ppl defending and condemning ctommy, though more of the latter), but isn't it obvious how people were filled with sympathy for Hawkeye and disdain for BJ? how this has always been a problem?

#look anika's talking!#literal pile of word junk sorry abt this #anika's rambles #mcyt #tommyinnit #atla #zuko

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grogusmum · 1 year

Text

MAY: Yes, You May (part one)

A Beltane Story

OBERYN MARTELL X f!READER

W/C: 800ish

SUMMARY: You meet a golden robed stranger at the maypole on Beltane. Part 2 will be the smut portion of our story, if you are so inclined.

WARNINGS: None to speak of unless you feel Oberyn needs his own. As always, if you see something, say something. Please let me know in my DMs, and I'll add it.

A/N: Here is the May installment of The Wheel of the Year, my theme for @yearofcreation2023 Organized by the effervescent @oonajaeadira and @writeforfandoms.

Obviously, I had hoped it would be ready for Beltane itself. Many apologies for that, I hope you enjoy it, belated as it is. The POV flips toward the end.

The nine sacred trees Rowan - the wizard's tree; Briar - burn him that is so keen and green; Oak - fiercest heat giver of all timber; Alder - very battle-witch of all woods; Holly - burn it green, burn it dry; Elder - him that furnishes horses to the armies of the Sidhe burn; Birch - burn up most sure the stalks that bear the constant pads; Aspen - burn, be it late or early; and the Yew which is singled out as being sacred to the feast.

Song of Forest Trees

Beltane Bannock Recipe

You see the ribbons flitting on one of the year's first mild breeze before hearing the music, as you make your way into the village proper.

Bathed in oils and dried petals, dressed in your best kirtle and newly sewn shift, beribboned hair with flowers of bluebell, king’s cup, and the little stars of wood anemone wreathing your head- you look forward to the festivities. Humming as you go, with the Beltane Bannock fresh from the fire in your wicker hamper. It warms your side as you enter the common. A tree stripped of branch and twig but for the very top where it was bedecked in flowers and the aforementioned ribbons of red and white stands at the center. Merrymakers call to one another, and young men with flower-bedecked branches make their way to adorn them upon the doors of their lady-loves. You feel a pang, but try to shake the feeling, calling to friends in greeting.

As the festivities ramp up, you join the maypole dance, you bow to your left then to your right, but are brought up short. A dark-haired man you've never seen bows to you with a smile like a cat that got the cream, your face warms under his intense gaze. You begin the dance, and your partner - the stranger dressed in gold, while looking high born and perhaps from a faraway place, dances like he was raised right in the village, making you more and more curious. Then you break from him to weave the ribbons, above and below, you smile and laugh with your family and friends, but every time you reach him his eyes lock with yours. You decide he probably does this with all the women, while the dance is still slow you notice he looks appreciatively at both women and men.

Then music speeds up and the spectators clap in time, and the dance keeps pace and colors blur, faces pass yours, smiling, whooping, alight with the energy of the day. When the dance finally ends you are glowing and breathless from the joy of the dance. You turn again to bow, and the stranger takes your hand and kisses it with a deep bow, his eyes on yours, he too is aglow, his quickened breath fanning over your hand. You can't help but imagine it on your neck or more discreet places. The newcomer smirks as though he is reading your thoughts. In attempt to stave the prickle of embarrassment you bow and make to depart quickly. He let's you go but not before pulling you in close, and that breath is on your neck just as you imagined, he smells incredible of spice and something you don't know, it's bright and fresh.

"I hope to see you later this night, I am thinking our dance is not quite done."

His voice fit him perfectly, causing you to shiver. It's smooth; his words dripping off his tongue like honey.

After the handfasting and feast, the fires are lit with the wood of the nine sacred trees, and the livestock are brought to walk between the two bonfires. You know folk will begin to pair up. Perhaps it is time to slip away. You begin to back out of the firelight and right into someone, solid and broad. You stumble, and he catches you-

“You will not be jumping over the fire?” He still has you around the waist, loosely, not to cage you without choice, but comfortably like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I-” you stutter, “ I-

He is handsome, beautiful even. You knew this from the dance- but in his arms, the firelight flickering over his features, it is overwhelming. His aquiline nose, jaw sharp as a knife, the column of his neck long and his dark eyes now softer, attentive and his pillowed lips with a natural pout, all breathtaking, a laugh plays at the corners and then the sun comes out at dusk - he smiles.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“No, I mean, yes… she stiffles a laugh. “I was not planning to, no. One must choose wisely in such a small village. I have no beau, and what is understood on Beltane night can be sorely mistaken all the rest of the year.”

Oberyn’s smile widens-

“Yet those fields will not bless themselves.”

At this, she laughs openly, and Oberyn’s interest becomes a need. Oh, she is beautiful, soft, her eyes sparkling with mirth as they did during the dance and her mouth - how he wants to taste it. When her laughter subsides, the sultry look that replaces it lets him know they are on the same page.

“Well, that won't do, will it. What do I call you, good sir?”

“I am Oberyn… of Dorne”, The Prince of Dorne said, deciding not to include his station.

“Well, Oberyn of Dorne, you dance like a Killarian,” she says after introducing herself.

May I join you?"

“Yes you may. Come, let us to the fires.”

💚THANK YOU FOR READING💚REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED💚

If you would like to read more of my Oberyn fics or any of my writing, you can find my masterlist here and if you care to be tagged for future fics follow this link to my handy dandy taglist form.

#year of themed creation #wheel of the year series #oberyn martell x f!reader #pagan holidays #beltane #pagan fic series #pedrostories

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ember-owlet · 2 months

Note

Could I pretty please request you write something self indulgent for yourself lil owlet? 🐇💕

a/c: aaa you're too kind bun, providing me with gold mines of asks?? thank you, i sincerely hope i can deliver ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ the context for these headcanons is because it's my birthday today and i would like some comfort from my fictional cgs. this is purely self-indulgent (per bun's request /lh /teasing) and will be handled so!

birthday headcanons w/ ember's fictional cgs

dynamic: cgs! donna beneviento and pamela isely x fem! regressor! reader

content warnings: mentions of birthday anxiety, light mentions of neglect, light mention of alcohol (in a celebratory context) ((stay safe little firelights, you can always come back to this when you're ready))

donna beneviento

donna would understand the anxiety that comes with birthdays. having an entire day centered around you would understandably have The Lady Beneviento nervous herself. she still finds ways throughout the day to spoil you, bringing you around the village with her to pick out a special outfit and fabrics for your gifts.

she'd tell you that despite what you have been through, that you are worthy of having your special days remembered, and that she would make sure that the rest of your birthdays would be celebrated with the people you love.

though she asked them first to make sure that a small celebration would be alright, donna would prepare a birthday dinner for her little one, inviting the other lords and Mother Miranda to honor her.

she'd have the house decorated (mostly with the help of the other dolls that angie bossed around but she said she did it so you'd have to let her) with streamers and an assortment of candles, the other lords waiting with their own specialized gifts

you come downstairs with the dimitrescu sisters phasing in and around you, chattering amongst each other to make sure your dinner attire fit perfectly for all to see.

salvatore bounces on his tippy toes; gift in hand he runs up to give you a tight embrace. "happy birthday minnow!!" he squeals, quickly placing the damp box into your hands before descending back to sitting with the other lords.

mother miranda would bring a crow held in a golden cage that was formed from one of her feathers. she had trained it to watch over you while you're out of the village, a reminder that you're never too far from home. the crow squawks as its beady eyes stare into yours, happy to see its newfound companion.

alcina would of course bring a bottle of her delicately aged wine to sample, congratulating you on another landmark of your life and that she's pleased to see how you've grown. she would look over to donna and remark about how well she'd been taking care of her little doll.

karl would gift you a mechanical rocking horse, built in with lifelike sounds with each motion. he would rustle your hair, wishing you a happy birthday while remarking the date itself isn't what matters, its how and when you'd like to acknowledge how far you've come.

salvatore's gift would include a set of tapes with videos of you and everyone, compiled together with a sweet message at the end telling you that today is about you and that he'd love to spend another day hanging out together so he can celebrate his favorite niece.

donna would create a special pair of plushies with interchangeable mechanisms so that with a pull of a string they could recite and reenact your favorite bedtime stories, complete with her and the other lords voices to bring your novels to life.

pulling the string the soft friend would spring to life, giving a short bow before opening its mouth. you hear the familiar voice of your caretaker.

"i hope you know how special you are to me dolcezza, happy birthday."

pamela isley

pamela holds you as you cry into her side, stroking your hair gently as she responds in whispers to your distress. "i'm here, i'm here. breathe, tulip. we aren't going anywhere you don't want to."

you could feel the vines trailing up from your back to cradle the both of you in a floral nest. as she rocked you you were overwhelmed by guilt. it's your birthday, and you're spending it with the one person who had been treating you so well while crying. you try to push out a sentence further than babbling but it frustrates you further, as past experiences with babbling or silence oftentimes had you punished.

pamela quickly shushes you, understanding your efforts and bringing you further into her arms as she rocked you. "i'm not going to let them take this day from you."

she stretched her hands outwards to summon a small white flower into your view.

"it's chamomile, it'll help to calm you. breathe it in kid. i've got you." the sweet and herbal scent wafts into your senses, pamela bringing her hand to your chest to let you feel the rising and falling of your chest.

there was so much that pammy wished she could do, and if she could do as she pleased she would give certain people a taste of her mind. a freshly picked bouquet of human flowers would do the trick for her. but here you were, and more than anything you needed for her to be there. so, instead of going on a rampage, that's what she'd do.

waiting for your body to come back to a steady rhythm she'd pull you away to dry the tears from your eyes. "you don't have to think about anything right now. just get some rest and we'll figure out what to do later on."

hours later you'd wake up to find a small terracotta pot filled with fertilizer sitting on your lap, written into the pot itself would have the words: "flower, meet me in the garden. bring a cup of water."

transitioning to the outside you see a blooming orchestra before your eyes, a beautiful symphony of various species of flora. in the center of the rings stood a hole in the patch of grass and a collection of uprooted violets outstretched to you beside it. as you counted them you realized that it equaled your new age.

scooping the lively bouquet you placed them into its new home, covering the exposed roots with the mixture of dirt and fertilizer.

you stood up to admire the violets as pammy crashed into you, bringing you into a squeeze from behind that nearly knocks the cup of water out of your hands.

twirling her hand through the slit of your side the violets began to grow in size and strength, perfectly aligned to resemble a row of birthday candles.

she snuggled you tight, walking together closer towards them as she placed a kiss to your cheek. "happy birthday flower. make a wish."

you shut your eyes tight, the feeling of tears beginning to well up in your throat before lightly blowing on the violets. they swayed in the wind joyously to mark the occasion.

opening your eyes a small homemade cake was held in front of you, pamela providing you with comfort in the form of a gentle smile. "flower, you were brought into a world that withered your very foundations with its weeds. today and every year thereafter will be a new uprooting, and i will nurture and care for you to thrive just the same. you deserve to bloom just like the rest, and be admired for your beauty and strength."

bringing her into another hug, you let out a sigh of relief as tears filled your eyes. being surrounded by the beauty of nature and a loving presence by your side, this was certainly a birthday you'd never forget.

#they mean the world to me alright /lh #cg! donna #cg! pamela isley #donna beneviento #pamela isley #resident evil agere #dc agere #agere #agere headcanons #agere writing #fandom agere #age regression #sfw agere #sfw age regression #sfw agere blog #sfw age regression blog #sfw interaction only #embers writings #ember's babies

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spiritamongdarkness · 2 years

Text

[Naruto] Profile - Akari

Date First Thought of/Created: November 27th, 2013 Date First Drawn: April 2014

Why did you create them? Akari was created as a way to cope from my severe depression after my grandfather’s death. It started out as daydreams of someone like me who struggled with their 'darkness'. After I rejoined the Naruto fandom and discovered my love for Orochimaru and Kabuto, I gave her form and made her a Sound Ninja.

What is the origin behind their pairing? I rediscovered my fondness for Sasuke the next summer and I wanted to pair her with him. It fit so perfectly since he would join Orochimaru, and she could relate to his pain. They became something of a comfort pairing to me that I would work on whenever I was upset.

Theme Song(s): (Pairing) Whispers in the Dark by Skillet

Introduction

Quote: Undecided

Full Name: Akari (Uchiha)

Name Meaning: (aka) meaning red, and (akari) meaning light

Kanji: 灯

Nickname(s), Alias(es): The Shadow of Otogakure, the Jinchuriki of the Sound Village, the Multi-Tails Jinchuriki

Affiliation: Naruto to Early Shippuden - Otogakure (the Village Hidden in the Sound) Boruto - Konohagakure (The Village Hidden in the Leaves) and Otogakure

Clan / Family: Pre-Series to The Last - Unknown Oc Clan Boruto - Uchiha Clan

Kekkei Genkai: Chakra release

Ninja Rank: Naruto to The Last - Unregistered Boruto - Special Jonin

Gender: Female

Birthdate: March 20th, 0 NTA (Nine Tails Attack)

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Age: Naruto – 12 to 13 Shippuden – 16 to 17 The Last – 18 to 19 Boruto – 30 to 31

Birth Place: Konoha

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Hair Color: Deep blood red

Hair Style: Long hair going past her shoulders and bangs that frame her face

Eye Color: Cool turquoise

Height: Naruto - 4ft 9in (146.3 cm) to (147.2 cm) Shippuden - 5ft 5in (166.1 cm) The Blank Period - 5ft 8in (174.4 cm) Boruto – Unknown

Tattoos/Birthmarks/Scars: An incomplete jinchuriki seal on her abdomen with the Five Pronged Seal (the Five Elements Seal) placed over it

Blood Type: A negative

Classification: Jinchuriki, Sensor Type, Medical-Nin

Tailed Beast: Oi the Multi-Tails

Status: Alive

Occupation: Boruto - N/A

Relationships

Relationship status: Shippuden - In a serious relationship Boruto - Married

Love Interest: Sasuke Uchiha

Past Crush / Love Interest: Sasuke

Mother: Mitsu (deceased), a civilian medicine woman

Father: Hiroshi (deceased), a Special Jonin from the Hidden Leaf

Sibling(s): a half brother on their mother’s side, Kabuto Yakushi

Children: Boruto - three sons, Issei, Moyasano, and Airashii, and a daughter Takane Uchiha

Other Relatives (Blood or Adopted): Orochimaru (like a father), Kana (Oc niece by dna), Mitsuki (nephew by dna), Itachi Uchiha (brother-in-law), Aki (Oc sister-in-law), Miyako (Oc niece), 2 Unnamed Oc nieces, 2 Unnamed Oc nephews

Pets: A white snake named Hakken

Friends: Naruto – Kimimaro Shippuden – Suigetsu Boruto – Naruto

Enemies: Danzo Shimura, Obito Uchiha

Personal

Favorite Food: Yaki gyoza (pan fried dumplings)

Least Favorite Food: Octopus or squid

Wants: To be loyal to those who have been good to her despite what she is, and to repay Lord Orochimaru and Kabuto for all they have done for her, to find some kind of happiness

Fears: living a nightmarish existence always hiding from what lies within her, not being able able to fight off her demon anymore, accidentally harming someone close to her, losing someone again, that she will eventually have to choose sides between Orochimaru and Sasuke

Hobbies: Nature watching

Likes: • Subtle sweet gestures • Sitting together even in silence

Dislikes: • Disrespect being shown to her superiors • Overthinking • Being out in the open

Ninja Details

Superiors: Orochimaru and Kabuto

Team: Naruto – Orochimaru and Kabuto Shippuden – Team Taka Hebi Boruto - N/A

Missions Completed: 0 D-Rank, 3 C-Rank, 7 B-Rank, 1 A-Rank, 0 S-Rank

Mission Assignments / Tasks: Assassinations, surveillance, doing tasks for Kabuto when he can't get away

Chakra Nature: Earth Release, Water Release, and Yin Release

Strong Against: Other shadow or yin release, Genjutsu, average Taijutsu, Earth Release

Weak Against: Fire Release, Lightning Release, bombs

Jutsu: General medical ninjutsu, shadow manipulation, distorting or corrupting other chakra natures

Ninja Tools: Kunai only

Backstory: [To Be Continued...]

(Akari is my Oc. Profile template designed by me)

#profile #akari #naruto oc #sound ninja

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kriffingunlucky · 3 years

Note

Hey I absolutely adore your writing and was wondering if I could request a female reader with Crosshair where the reader is just straight flirting with him and he’s completely clueless to it?

Uh, totally? This is absolutely perfect. >:] And omg! Thank you so much, dearest! I really appreciate that. You guys liking my work is all that keeps me going. So these compliments make my world brighter. I put a "read more" link because this got longer than I was expecting hehe.

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

This has been going on for way too long.

Every morning for the past couple of weeks you greet Crosshair with a chipper "good morning, handsome!", or a compliment of that sort. A huge smile plastered on your face. The day goes on, your tasks get done, but you always follow him around and spend whatever time you're able to with him. Smiling all the while. You help him with anything he could possibly need help with. You compliment and tease him. You pat his arms and shoulders affectionately.

Why hasn't the clueless asshole caught onto your hints yet?

You really thought you were being pretty damn obvious. But it's also kind of cute that he doesn't really notice it, or at least think anything of it, at least; you hope.

You lay on top of the Havoc Marauder. Deep in thought. Eyes cast onto the stars above you.

Another Republic base in a small village you all have docked yourselves at to stock back up on supplies, another gift you've snuck onboard for Crosshair. And he still thinks nothing of the kiss that came with it. Damnit.

Chatter spread throughout the Republic occupied space, you casually walking with Wreckers huge poncho over your shoulders back to the ship, trying to be as inconspicuous as you could be.

Which wasn't very inconspicuous.

Because as you approached the Marauder Hunter did a double take at you, brows furrowing in suspicion at your form.

"Hello, (Y/n). What are you doing out?" He crossed his arms firmly over his chest.

You scoffed, placing a hand over your chest. Mock hurt in your voice. "Can a girl not go out and enjoy the city while she finally has the time?"

"Mmhm," Hunter takes a breath in. Giving you an up-down scan. "Why are you wearing Wrecker's poncho?"

"It is comfortable."

"But you have your own that fits you perfectly fine."

"Yes but his is comfier."

"Okay. But it looks as if you're hiding something underneath it. You're more bulky."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"Wha- No? Why would I do that?"

"Because you're mean! You're questioning me!"

"(Y/n)-"

"I am going to cry. And it's all because of you."

"I-"

"ALL BECAUSE OF YOU."

The Sergent throws his hands into the air, groaning, absolutely exasperated. He turns to walk back to where he was before. Loading things into the cargo hold of their small home. "Fine! Whatever! I just hope that thing you're sneaking into the ship for reasons that are beyond me do not involve me! At all!"

You grin as smooth as a tooka cat, sauntering your way into the Marauder, cooing behind you. "No worries, sarge. You'll never hear of this again."

Shedding off the large poncho you'd worn, you lay it on Wrecker's bunk, yelling through the ship. "Thank you for the poncho lend, Wreck!"

In which you get a hardy laugh and, "No problem, little'un!" in response.

Taking your time unwrapping the large basket of sweets you'd smuggled into the ship, you repackage them in a fancy way. Thinking it's rather pretty before you pick it up and scamper to wherever you thought Crosshair might be.

With no luck on your first attempts, you hear Echo's breathy chuckle. "He is outside, napping, surprisingly. You'll see him. He's laying out on the grass like a dramatic starfish."

You grin and yell a loud "thank you" as you jog from the ship, clearing your throat a couple times as you look for him. It really didn't take long to find him sprawled out in the grass. Eyes open, and looking up at the sunset that paints the sky.

Good, so I don't have to wake him. You thought in a sigh of relief.

You open your mouth to speak as you halted yourself in front of him. Standing above his head.

But when he looked up at you with his honey filled eyes, you were love struck again, and at an awkward loss of words. Again.

"(Y/n)." He greets curtly. Not having anything against you, really, but also not being super friendly with you. He was, though, very curious as to what is in that basket of yours.

He was re-situating to see whatever you had in your hands better as you began to gather your thoughts again. "Hi, Cross!" Was your very annoying, in your own anxious opinion, start. "I brought'cha something!"

The sniper raises his silver eyebrows, holding his hands out to take it from you when you offered it towards him. He hummed in confirmation and interest when he set it in his lap.

He was sorting through the contents, so you took that extended silence to speak. "I bought you some sweets from the village venders, because you're a sweet treat yourself!"

Crosshair snorted a small laugh, picking through the items and very silently judging them. You swallowed as you kept smiling. Worried you'd overdone it this time.

But when he looked up at you, meeting your eyes, his expression was absolutely beaming. No, he wasn't smiling. Nor was he really showing that he was happy with it through his facial expression par say. It was through the vibrancy of his eyes that you could tell he loved it.

They were extra shimmery.

"Hope you like it." You grinned, very satisfied with your results. And with a newfound confidence, you leaned down, kissing his cheek softly.

Turning around and walking away, practically skipping, actually, you left a dumbfounded but now quietly happy Crosshair behind you.

And you hadn't heard anything about it from him since. You rubbed your face, half of you frustrated and the other half was entertained by his obliviousness. You'd all eaten dinner together, and laughed about the day.

Tech said that you were making heart eyes at Cross the whole time, but, you refuse to believe that. Even though Echo and Wrecker second that accusation.

"I can be happy being his friend." You spoke to yourself, trying to convince your own brain of this, "He doesn't have to like me the way I like him."

The silence outside was almost mocking your statement.

"Who am I kidding?" You groaned into your hands.

Moments later, after you'd calmed down and just ended up silently gazing at the stars. You heard footsteps climbing the latter to the top of the Marauder. Lifting your head a tad from your laying position you make eye contact with Crosshair.

Letting your head thump against the ground, you sigh quietly. Not even really having much energy to chat with him. You hoped he hasn't come up here to scold you for your gift. Calling it "dumb" and "unprofessional", like you'd worried he thought it was.

"Hey, handsome." You mumble. Adjusting your hands to lay on top of your stomach, laced together slackly, eyes cast away from him.

Crosshair comes close to you, and stands beside where you're sitting for a couple of moments. The atmosphere a tad tense. And you knew it was only because of your tired mind.

You'd been so confident about flirting with him before. But you've slowly come to worry, well, you're at least just worrying right now; that maybe he understands you're flirting and is just ignoring you.

Crosshair sits beside you with a small thump, not saying anything still. Crossing his legs, then pulling something out of the ammo pack on his belt, he hands it to you open palmed.

"Here." He spoke softly.

You hummed and sat yourself half up on your elbows, furrowing your brows at what he holds. You couldn't really see it. It was dark and unlike him, you didn't have enhanced vision. "What's this?"

The sniper snorts. "Take it and find out."

You huff a laugh and sit up fully, taking the mysterious object from his hands with care. Inspecting it for a moment, you soon come to a realization.

It's a piece of candy.

One of the piece's you'd given him earlier, to be exact.

"I thought I'd thank you for giving me those nice sweets." He commented, almost bashfully, when you'd looked up at him with a smile.

"Of course, honeypot! It's my pleasure." You grin and wiggle your body from side to side. Scooting a tad closer to him. Your heart fluttering when your actions earned a small smile from the man.

You love it when he smiles. Especially at you.

"Don't call me that." He huffed out, but with no venom in his voice. Shaking his head as he watched you re-situate closer to him.

"Awww," You whine playfully. "Why not, beautiful? You're as sweet as honey! It's a perfect fit."

"No. It's cringy."

"I'm hurt by your words," you joke as you gently lean your head onto his shoulder. Breathing in a big breath. "Can I call you honeybear?"

"Oh," He snorts, "Please no."

"What about just honey?"

Crosshair sighed, smiling, even though you couldn't see it. And laid his head on top of yours. "That will be acceptable if you insist on with these dumb honey themed names."

You giggled - arm hooking around his, small hand laying on top of the other's larger one, (e/c) eyes fluttering closed - then sighed. "Perfect."

And that is when Crosshair realized, he realized he was catching feelings for you. But much to his unknown relief, he's lucky you felt the same, because all of your pickup lines and pet names still haven't clicked for him. Not yet at least.

Just wait until he asks Tech about it.

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roanniom · 3 years

Text

The Night That Follows

Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 8,000~

Summary: While celebrating a successful mission, you and Poe accidently ingest a mysterious beverage that makes it hard to resist one another, helping you forget the stress that weighs you down and the friendship that you’ve been holding between you two as a shield.

Note: This is my first ever non-ADCU fic and it is dedicated to the ever lovely and supportive @paper-n-ashes who urged me to get out of my comfort zone and cheered me on.

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, sex pollen, drugged drink (it’s drugged with the sex pollen by a 3rd party and not with malicious intent but it still might be triggering), masturbation (f/m), PIV sex, unprotected sex, war-related angst

When people talk about war, they often discuss the paralyzing fear, the numbing depression. Hopelessness that spreads through your veins like cold water as you face immeasurable odds and stare death in the face day after day. And you can attest to these feelings. You experience them with each dawn that breaks, muddy in the sky regardless of the atmosphere shrouding whatever planet you find yourself waking on each morning. Your life is transient, full of ships and bases and camps. The constants are the clothes on your back, the friends in your squadron (those who survive), and the x-wing you hop in each time danger calls.

The other constant is the part of war that people do not discuss. The rush of adrenaline every time you make it out of a tough scrape. Adrenaline that burns your veins, evaporating the icy hopelessness that had flooded you up until the minute your boots hit turf and your jellied knees catch up to the reality that you are still very much alive. The euphoria that crackles in your brain when you spy your best mate zooming down from above, finally landing and throwing themselves into your arms in the hug you never thought you’d experience again after their coms had gone down in a fire fight. The absolute debauchery of a night of celebration after such a fire fight. Because nobody needs to live quite as much as those who may die.

Which is how you find yourself here, on this non-descript jungle planet, the name of which you didn’t catch during your descent because honestly there have been so many jungle planets and they have all become little more than coordinates on a screen to you at this point. You and your squad have been set up with a mini-festival by the resistance-sympathizing locals as a thank you for your recent decimation of their First Order oppressors. The operation had been pretty seamless, thanks in no small part to the excellent teamwork between you and a one Poe Dameron.

Your flying today had rivaled some of his best, which is certainly saying something since Poe prides himself on being the best pilot in the resistance. You certainly gave him a run for his money, outflying TIE fighters and swiveling shuttle cannons in a perfectly choreographed tandem maneuver wherein the two of you manipulated your assailants to ultimately destroy themselves.

As you knock back a burning shot of the local alcoholic beverage, the liquid tingling and warming you all the way down, you search the triumphant crowd for the cocky pilot who had helped you set the stage for this celebration. You wouldn’t dwell on the earlier events of the day much more tonight. Wouldn’t think much of the comrades you’d lost in the struggle. That was an ache that would throb back to life tomorrow. Tonight, the priority is living.

It is then that you lock eyes with Poe Dameron through the throngs of semi-drunken revelers. His handsome face splits into a wide, cocky grin, so you adopt an exasperated smirk in response as he pushes his way towards you. Such is the game you play. A dance, if you will. Poe plays the role of the self-assured, overly confident golden boy while you, his long suffering partner, humble him with your good-natured criticism and ever rolling eyes.

“Alright there, Sweets?” Poe practically drawls as he reaches you, the nickname both a term of endearment and a teasing reference to the sweet tooth that keeps you hoarding candies of all kinds in your bunk, much to Poe’s own benefit. You beam up at him and upend your little glass to demonstrate its emptiness.

“On my way there, Fly Boy.”

“Looks like you’re falling behind, rookie. Like you did on that triple barrel twist today.”

You throw a punch that lands a little too lightly on his shoulder to produce the grunt and showy flail that he graces you with.

“First of all, you’re not allowed to call me rookie anymore. Your dumb ass might need to be constantly reassured that you’re ‘best pilot in the resistance,’ but by now I am, at worst, second best.” Your gut warms and you’re not sure if it’s the drink or Poe’s deep, full-bodied laugh in response. “And second of all, we don’t talk about the day if we make it to the night.”

Poe almost seems to sober at your words, a phrase of his tossed back at him. The smile remains, though, and he tosses an arm around you before dragging you over to the table that’s been set up with refreshments.

“Right you are, Sweets,” Poe agrees quietly. Louder now and injecting you two into the crowd surrounding the cluster of bottles, he continues, “as for you being second best pilot, I’d rather let the squad decide before you go getting a head too big to fit in your helmet.”

This receives a laugh from the crowd as well as another smattering of slaps thrown towards Poe’s chest.

“Dameron, we all know you already have your own helmet custom made so you can stuff that massive ego in there,” your friend Myrna.

“And those curls,” you add, reaching up and ruffling your hand through his hair in that way that always makes his nose scrunch up in mock anger.

“If you must know, there’s something else they also have to custom make me…” Poe says, grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand to slide down his chest towards the bottom of his flight suit zipper and wiggling his eyebrows. You shriek and yank your hand away.

“In your dreams, Dameron.” Poe leans down toward you so that his face is close enough for you to feel his breath fan across your cheeks.

“Or perhaps in yours?”

Suddenly a small, wrinkled face appears between you. It’s an elderly female member of the local alien race and she’s beaming up at you, holding two steaming mugs and smiling around a garbled statement in a language you don’t recognize.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m not sure I…” you interrupt her, glancing awkwardly between her massive eyes and Poe’s confused ones.

“I might be able to translate!” Myrna cries out, stumbling forward with a newly refilled glass in her hand.

“You sure that’s not just the liquor talking?” Poe asks with a chuckle. Myrna waves him off and kneels unsteadily to listen to the old woman. More garbled speech issues forward as the woman gestures between you and Poe with her mugs. Myrna nods several times and gives little hums of agreement and affirmation. You and Poe trade glances of amusement during the interaction, but you have to look away when the upturned corner of Poe’s mouth begins to distract you.

“Alright alright,” Myrna pipes up. You turn back in time to see Myrna standing back up to her full height, now holding the two mugs, while the woman waddles back into the crowd.

“What’s the deal?” Poe asks, slinging his arm back around your shoulders. You resist the knee jerk actions that come to mind, both to slap his touch away and to lean into it, standing rigid instead.

“She said these are for you,” Myrna says, pushing the steaming mugs into your hands and Poe’s.

“Did she say why?” You peer at the milky, opalescent contents curiously. Myrna has already moved on, however, turning back to the pilot she’d been hanging on before you and Poe had approached. You look to Poe but he shrugs.

“I don’t know, something about you guys deserving it.” Myrna waves her hand dismissively, obviously ready to get back to her own evening. You look up at Poe, unsure, but he’s nodding and smiling.

“Hear that, Sweets? Seems like word travels fast that we’re the top two pilots,” Poe says cheekily, clinking his mug to yours before throwing back his head and downing its contents in one gulp. Your insides ignite at his acknowledgment, as well as the bob of his adam’s apple, but your eyes still flit warily to your beverage.

“We don’t even know what it is and you’re drinking it?”

“Honey, I’m pretty sure that liquor we were taking shots of earlier was actually jet fuel, I don’t think we need to be too worried about this.” Poe smacks his lips and runs his finger around the inside of the mug. “And besides, it’s really kriffing good.”

Watching the way his cheeks hollow out as he sucks the last dregs of his drink from his finger makes a heat boil in the pit of the stomach. You decide you actually are quite thirsty, and since your curiosity is stronger than your apprehension, you knock the liquid back yourself.

“Atta girl!” Poe cheers you on, nudging you. The drink is sweet and thick on your tongue like a melted version of the ice cream you’d tasted once, many years ago. You can still remember the creamy texture, very much worth the credits paid to the traveling vendor who’d brought it to your village during the hottest summer of your childhood. As you swallow this liquid down, however, its cold temperature changes into a burn, similar to alcohol, though smoother than any liquor you’d ever had.

“Good, right?” Poe asks, eyebrows raised. You nod and lick your lips, sure that you’re imagining things when Poe’s eyes flicker down to your darting tongue.

“That was actually pretty good,” you concede with a grin.

“So what have we learned tonight?” Poe prompts, grabbing your mug from your hands and placing it next to his on a nearby table. You shake your head.

“Your cockiness extends to believing locals on a miniscule planet find you special?”

“The correct answer was ‘always give things a chance,’ Sweets, but you can continue being closeminded if you want,” Poe responds with a chuckle. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes to walk away.

“Fine!” You reach out and grab his arm before he can leave. When he rounds back on you with a wide smile you roll your eyes and refuse eye contact. “And just so you know, I’m a lot more open minded than you think, Dameron.”

“Is that so, rookie?” You bristle but as the glee raises in his eyes at your reaction you do your best to tamp it down.

“I’m…flexible,” you say, your grin begrudging. A hubbub breaks out beyond you in the crowd as the makeshift band that had assembled to play party music transitions to a particularly festive song, causing both you and Poe to watch as people begin forming an impromptu dance floor. When Poe turns back at you and raises his eyebrows, expectant, you throw up your hands defensively.

“No. Don’t look at me like that, Fly Boy,” you’re quick to say, but Poe’s even quicker, having already grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to him. Your body collides with his and his other hand finds the dip of your waist.

“Oh I’m sorry, what was that I just heard someone say about being open minded?” Poe asks. In a sudden fluid motion he dips you, bending you over so that your back is parallel to the ground and his face hovers over yours. “Being flexible?”

You let him pull you back up and steady yourself with a hand on his chest to catch your balance, dizzy now, most likely from the suddenness of the motion. You’re about to toss back a witty retort, possibly something that will knock him down a few pegs, but then you catch the glint in his eye and a smile spreads across your lips unbidden.

“You get one dance, Dameron.”

~*~

One dance turned into many, as it turns out. The band, upon realizing their audience’s appetite for raucous music, had begun a steady rotation of upbeat tunes. The dance floor had expanded, spilling out of its original confines in the center of the town square and into the concession areas on the perimeter. Resistance members danced and drank, their bodies jumping and moving to the beat in one chaotic mass of excess energy and euphoria. Bodies writhe against one another in all directions as people seek out friction that can confirm to them that they did indeed survive the day’s trials.

You’re experiencing friction of your own in your little portion of the dance floor. Where things had started out innocently – energetic bouncing to the beat and moving in unison – the tone had long changed. At this point Poe is behind you, arms slung dangerously low on your hips to hold you against him, hands pressed right above your pelvis. The feeling of his chest pressing against your back, his hips bracketing your ass – you’ve lost yourself in the sensations. The rhythm of the music shakes through your muscles but instead of tense and tired, they’re loose and buzzing.

Though truth be told, they aren’t the only thing buzzing. The proximity of Poe’s hands to your lower body feels charged like a magnet. Without thinking you press your hands over the backs of his, encouraging pressure on your lower abdomen. You swear you hear Poe growl behind you has his hands pull you further to him, but it could also be the roar of the crowd. Your hips move in sync, your ass grinding against him in time with the music. Escapism in its purest form is what you’re experiencing in Poe’s arms, held against Poe’s body, matching Poe’s motions. It’s heady and distracting and everything you could ask for to make living feel like living, especially in the aftermath of a day centered on death. You’re content to let this moment last as long as the universe allows.

That is until you realize that the increasing beat you’d thought was a shift in the music is actually the rapid crescendo of your own heartbeat.

Swallowing you find your throat is thick, saliva pooling in your mouth inexplicably. You take a deep breath and allow your mind to reel. How long had you been feeling like this? Why hadn’t you noticed these feelings coming on?

One of the large hands at your hip begins sliding up along the plane of your side and you get your answer. The weight of his touch lights your skin on fire as it drags up and across your collar bone. Your breath feels ragged, rattling around in lungs that can’t seem to take in oxygen no matter how high your chest rises and falls. Poe’s hand lingers on your throat for a second so you swallow again, with even less luck than before. His hand reaches up to grip your jaw which he uses to turn your head back toward him.

Oh.

Poe continues to move behind you, his motions controlling you both on the floor, but his face is strained. Sweat dots his temples, gleaming in his curls, and his teeth seem gritted, making his jaw set at a striking angle. His eyes pin you down, however, and they keep your attention as you gaze back, wide-eyed.

“You okay, rookie?” Poe’s voice is deeper than normal, huskier. The way it reverberates through your body makes a rumbling bubble up deep inside your chest. The beginnings of a moan, perhaps? You’re quick to gasp a response before such a sound has a chance to make its way into the air between you.

“I’m…feeling quite strange.”

The hand still at your waist tightens its grip while the other rejoins on the opposite side. You have to gasp again to keep from moaning. Suddenly you’re being maneuvered forward, Poe’s guidance weaving you through the crowd with ease despite the congested revelry.

Neither of you see the way Myrna is watching you both with a knowing smirk from her place draped around her own handsome pilot beau. Or the way the little old woman who’d gifted you the beverage hovers on the outskirts of the dance floor, a proud look on her wrinkled face as she eyes your retreating figures.

~*~

You’re not really able to follow where Poe is directing you, mainly because of how the imprint of his hands on your body seems to be searing into your skin through your flight suit. While your accelerated heart rate was the thing you had been most worried about, now you are equally worried about the dull ache that has seated itself in the pit of your stomach. You bite down hard on your lip to keep the moan from spilling out, the one you’ve been suppressing since the moment you became conscious to your current discomfort.

When Poe’s stride finally slows to a stop only then are you able to take in your surroundings. Blinking, you’re surprised to find that you’re now outside of the town, far from the lights and bustle of the party, walking into the silent clearing that contains the squadron’s parked aircrafts.

“Why are we all the way out here?” you ask, unsettled by how deep your voice sounds in the darkness.

“Needed to get away from the crowd.” You’re even more unsettled by how breathless Poe’s voice is as he says his first words since the dance floor. So unsettled that you turn in his arms so you can finally take in his disheveled appearance fully.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, it’s the weirdest thing. One minute everything was fine and the next…”

“You can’t catch your breath,” you finish for him and he nods gravely. Both of your chests are practically heaving, pressing into each other with each exhale. When you become aware of this, it also brings awareness of the way his chest pressed up against yours is also adding pressure to your nipples. Since when were your nipples hard? The night is balmy, a cool breeze barely able to disturb the moist warmth that settles in the jungle terrain. You feel sweat begin to collect on the back of your neck and your hairline, much like the sweat causing Poe to shine a bit in the moonlight. And yet your nipples are hard and a shudder runs through your body, nerve endings clearly ten steps ahead of you, taking in some experience to which you’d yet to catch up.

“Wait a minute, look at me,” Poe suddenly orders, his fingers wrapping around your chin to lift your face toward his. You freeze as he stares down at you, eyes widening at whatever he sees.

“What is it?” you ask, voice urgent, almost frightened.

“Your pupils are wide as planets,” he mutters, distracted fingers drawing up the side of your jaw to press to the pulse point at your throat. “Your heartbeat is out of control.”

“I haven’t been able to calm down,” you say, nodding but getting more worried by the second. “Why can’t I calm down? Are you feeling the same way?”

Poe’s mouth presses into a hard line and he turns away abruptly, head tilting down.

“Oh fuck.”

“What?” You try to pull him back toward you but he doesn’t budge.

“I think…we’ve been drugged.”

Your blood runs cold and a hand flies to cover your mouth. You’d known tonight was too good to be true. Your mind races, making connections out of thin air, trying to place when and where you could have possibly come in close enough proximity to First Order agents to be compromised.

“But what – how – what can we do? What is it? Is it deadly?” You’re cut off by a sound issuing from Poe’s now curved body. You wonder at first if it’s a sob, which makes sense because you’re about ready to cry yourself. But then you realize it’s a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t say deadly. Just exceedingly inconvenient.”

“So you know what it is then?” you prompt, tugging at his shoulder some more to try and see his face. “Tell me!”

“Well for starters I’m pretty sure it was that drink the old woman gave us.”

Fuck.

Of course. What was the one suspicious thing you’d ingested all day? The fact that you hadn’t thought about it sooner makes you want to kick yourself, but you press on instead, anxious to have the matter dealt with.

“What does it do?” You hate the tremor that colors your voice. At that Poe finally turns around and you take him in all at once, trying to assess what he could have been hiding. His tall, wide-legged stance makes it easy to notice after a few seconds. As your gaze moves lower on his body you finally see the massive tent forming below the zipper line of his flight suit.

Without even being able to mentally process what you’re looking at your body responds immediately. A rush of warmth and wetness floods the apex of your thighs and the moan that you’d so far been able to hold in finally makes it way out of your throat. Poe’s eyes, which had recently gone hooded, widen in response to the lewd sound. You clap a hand over your mouth and snap your eyes back up to his face, away from the rigid shape that had made the muscles inside you contract wantonly around nothing.

“It’s made from a plant that’s meant to accelerate sex drive,” Poe says matter-of-factly.

You almost don’t hear him because your eyes have already slid back down his body, feasting on the sight of his impressive bulge. You’d heard stories of Poe’s sexual prowess, many from the man’s own loud mouth. You knew he’d satisfied many members of the Resistance, male and female alike. But you had never truly let yourself consider what he’d be like. What he’d look like. What he’d feel like…

“Why would she possibly give that to us of all people?” You feel like you’re going to cry. The feelings coursing through your body are overwhelming.

“Maybe she went around spiking many people at the party. Maybe she just thought you and I would look hot together? You can’t blame her for that one.” Poe winks at you and it diffuses some of your angst. You let out a tense laugh and shake your head.

“How do we make it stop?” you force yourself to ask, just as you force yourself yet again to look back up in his eyes. Poe averts his own, a sheepish look overtaking his face. When he doesn’t answer you step forward and grab his arm in alarm, trying not to consider the way his bicep bulges under his sleeve. “Poe?!”

“We have to…take care of it.”

You’re launching yourself away from him before he can finish the sentence. You probably knew the answer before you’d even asked the question, but his words still sent electricity through your spine.

“We can’t. That’s…that’s crazy – you’re crazy, Dameron!”

“Hey, you think I like this? Standing here like an idiot with my dick so hard I can barely see straight?”

The sexual nature of his words, spoken so plainly and without euphemism for the first time, makes a new wave of wetness pool between your legs against your will.

“Don’t….talk about it,” you say through gritted teeth, closing your eyes in an attempt to center yourself.

“What? Don’t talk about my aching cock?” he asks, almost as a challenge. He’s frustrated now, egged on by your attitude.

“Stop it.”

“Are you about to tell me you aren’t wet right now?”

You turn your back on him in a childish and fruitless attempt at blocking out his words. When you don’t reply you hear his footsteps as he approaches from behind.

“If we’re both having the same reaction, and I’m certain we are, then I’d imagine you’re practically dripping right now.”

His words would have made your eyes cross if you didn’t have them shut so tightly. A hand molds around your hip while the other grasps at the side of your neck, both working in tandem to pull your back flush against his front. The impact, though gentle, knocks the wind out of you. Or whatever wind had been in you in the first place. His lips are at your ear then and you melt into his touch.

“If we take care of this together we’ll go back to normal.”

“…back to normal?” you ask, simply repeating and not really aware of your words.

“Exactly.”

“I…I don’t know.” Poe’s hardened length is pressing into your ass now, insistent and firm behind you. The hand on your hip migrates lower to pull you against him. A swivel of his hips causes your own to follow the momentum, gyrating in their own right.

“We can be quick,” Poe coos, his voice vibrating over your earlobe where his lips are making contact with your skin. Another low chuckle sounds. “Or I can take my time if you want. Either way, I can promise you’ll enjoy it.”

There’s your cocky Fly Boy.

You wrench yourself from his grasp and take a few steadying steps away before gaining the wherewithal to turn back and face him once more. He looks supremely disappointed, arms still outstretched in the place where you had just been.

“Does this really have to be a…team effort?” you ask, face screwed up with discomfort. Poe runs a hand through his hair and casts a distracted glance about your surroundings.

“I mean I guess theoretically one could take care of themselves – ”

“Great!” you cut him off and stalk around to the other side of his x-wing. Of course he’d brought you to his ship. You look around for your own but when you can’t find it you plop yourself down on the ground.

“Are you kriffing serious?” comes Poe’s angry voice behind you as he stomps over. “We could bang this out and feel better but you’re just going to – ”

“Oh ‘bang’ this out? Real nice, Dameron.”

“You know what I mean.” You can practically hear his eye roll.

“The other side,” you say simply, lowering the zipper on your flight suit. When you don’t hear the sound of his retreating footsteps, however, you pause. “Stay on the other side of the ship, Dameron.”

He grumbles but does as you say. When you finally hear the sound of him throwing himself to the ground, you lift the tab of your zipper again. However, the loud and sudden ziiiip indicating that he’s yanked open his own garment seems ring out then in the clearing and you’re inundated with mental images of what that must look like. Poe sprawled on the ground with his flight suit open and askew. You imagine the expanse of his chest, the way the muscle would ripple in the shadows of the jungle. You’d seen him without a shirt before, the arms of his flight suit tied at his waist as he reclined beneath his x-wing making repairs. Covered in sweat and grease. The memory and the subsequent lurid thoughts have you dipping your hand down into the small opening you’ve made in your clothes, not fully comfortable enough to expose yourself entirely to the elements. When you reach the place between your thighs you have to swallow the gasp that bursts forth at the realization that Poe had been right. You’re not just wet. You’re dripping.

“Fuck.”

You think you say it quietly but a chuckle from the other side of the ship proves otherwise.

“Need any help over there?”

You ignore him and try to focus in on your own body, closing your eyes. You allow a hand to ghost over your breast as you ease a finger through your folds. You feel the insistent thrumming of your pulse even down below and your breath is shallow in your chest. The images dancing behind your eyelids show you flashes, glimpses of things you try to banish from your mind. The angle of Poe’s jaw. His faint, ever present stubble. The arch of his eyebrow. The curve of his smirk. His ass in those pants.

“Sweets…”

Poe’s voice interrupts a whimper you hadn’t even realized you were releasing.

“Poe.” Your voice is small and it cracks around his name. Your muscles are contracting but nothing you do eases the sensation. It just continues building within you. “It hurts.”

“Just come over here. I don’t even have to touch you. Just let me help you through it.”

You ponder the darkness before you, the way it envelops the other aircrafts in this makeshift parking zone. You hear a shick shick shick behind you and your cunt aches. Completely in response to the siren call of Poe Dameron’s building pleasure. You’re immediately intensely jealous. Jealous of the way that, you assumed, he was having more luck getting himself off than you were, despite the fingers inside you right now. Jealous of the way his voice didn’t crack when he beckoned you over.

But most of all jealous of the fact that he’s the one currently touching his hard cock. Not you.

You will yourself to stand up, pulling your hand out of your flight suit but not bothering to zip it back up. On jelly legs you make your way to the other side of the ship. The far side, facing away from the town square and the distant glow of the party you’ve now forgotten.

As you round the edge of the x-wing you bite your lip at the sight before you. Poe is indeed sprawled out with his suit zipped all the way down. His thick member protrudes from the bottom of the opening, a fist moving up and down rapidly, pulling from root to flushed tip in skilled motions. However the eyes that gaze up at you from under his unruly mop of curly hair are not doused with pleasure and satisfaction as you’d imagined. Instead he looks pained, almost agonized. At the sight of you he sits up a bit and does his best to give you a reassuring smile though it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, rookie.”

“That’s the drink talking,” you dismiss, despite the way your stomach swoops as you move to settle yourself down next to him, careful not to make contact. “And you know I hate you calling me rookie.”

“I’ll call you anything you want, baby, as long as you start touching yourself.”

Your cunt pulses at his words so suddenly that you almost double over. Your breathing, already ragged, speeds up as you feel the overwhelming urge to have something deep inside you. Dropping your hand into the opening in your suit you halt, however, watching Poe warily in your peripheral vision. He catches you looking and reluctantly stills the hand moving on member.

“Would sitting back to back help?” he sighs. You nod, scrambling over so that your back is to his.

This is better. This is much better, you think as you dip your hand back between your legs and into the waiting slick. You drag a finger in tight circles over your clit and do your best to calm the racing thoughts that flit back to images of Poe’s body.

The body that is currently pressed to yours, though not at all in the manner you would prefer.

Poe grunts then, making you lose your rhythm.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted you, you know.”

You cut your answering gasp off at the source, not daring to make a sound lest it interrupt this information that you desperately needed to here. He interprets your silence correctly and continues.

“I’ve thought about you. When I’m in the cockpit on my way to some distant planet. When not even hyper speed can get me there quick enough before thoughts of you creep in.” He almost sounds mad, but you get it. The emotions coursing through your body along with the hormones are driving you wild and you don’t know how to feel.

“What…what are the thoughts about?” you can’t help but ask.

“I’d love to say it’s your smile or your brains or something sweet like that. And I do think about those things too, don’t get me wrong,” he says on a hoarse chuckle. “But it’s mainly your body.”

You slip a third finger inside your cunt as he says this, his words and the feeling mixing to cause you to let out an unchecked moan. You feel Poe’s body shudder against you.

“Shit Sweets you’re killing me.” You feel him tense as his hand begins moving faster. “I think about how you look poured into that flight suit. The way your tits and ass jiggle when you hop into your x-wing – fuck.” Another shudder wracks through his body and you can’t take it anymore. The way you’re touching yourself isn’t the way you usually do it. Not in those rare moments where you’ve got the sleeping quarters to yourself and you’re able to get yourself off in your bunk to images of a chiseled jawline, a clothed bulge, rippling muscles, soft, curly hair…

You abruptly pitch yourself forward to balance yourself on your knees and one hand while the remaining hand redoubles its efforts between your legs. The shift in position ends your physical contact with Poe and he swivels to see.

“What are you – ”

“Don’t turn around,” you gasp out. Your new angle works in your favor as your swollen clit becomes more sensitive, pulled down by gravity so that every swipe of your finger becomes more potent. “But for the love of gods, don’t stop talking.”

Poe is taken aback by your sudden forwardness, but he doesn’t let it faze him for long. Instead you hear his renewed efforts at jerking off as the sound of skin swiping across skin, made smoother by spit and precum, gets louder behind you.

“What do you want me to talk about? How much I wish it was your tight little pussy I was fucking instead of my fist?”

The whimper you release at that statement is unlike any sound you’ve ever made and it only spurs Poe on.

“And I just know you’re tight. I know it. And wet too, just like I guessed you were. I can hear it, baby,” he practically growls and you become intensely away of the slick, creamy sounds coming from the rapid in and out, in and out rhythm of your fingers delving into your cunt. “You’re dripping, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” You close your eyes and hear his words and wish the fingers inside you were harder, thicker, him.

“You wish it was my cock inside you, I know you do. You don’t want to admit it but you wish I was pounding into you, making you feel good. Making the ache go away.”

Your answering whine confirms his beliefs and he lets out a triumphant grunt.

“Fuck, baby. I want it, too. Bury myself deep inside of you and fuck you till that drink wears off and you’re still screaming for me, that’s how good it would be.”

“Oh gods.”

“Tell me who you’re wet for.”

“Y-you.” It comes out small. You’re shocked that you even say it, especially with how much you’ve been fighting all of this. You want it. You want it in your bones and in your blood and in your tight, spasming cunt. But you also want Poe’s friendship. Want him to tousle your hair on the way to the hanger. Want him to keep sending you funny messages over your data pad, constantly trying to outdo your own silly riddles and jokes. Want to tease him and eat dinner with him in the mess hall and slap him when he says something stupid and yell at him when he does something dangerous and cry when he doesn’t come back on time from a mission…

A sob finds its way out of your body, sandwiched between two moans. You’re not sure Poe even heard it until his voice reaches your ears again, this time gentler.

“Sweets? Is this working for you?”

You take a shuddering breath before answering.

“No.”

You practically hear Poe slump in defeat, the rhythm of his hand on his length slowing down. You bite your lip before continuing.

“Take me, Poe.”

“What?” Poe whirls around so fast you feel the air woosh over you as he disturbs it. You jump to your feet, still facing away from him and yank your flight suit over your shoulders and down your body, stepping out so it pools on the ground. He watches as you get back down on your hands and knees before him in your underwear, ass in the air, waiting for him to catch up.

“I need you, Poe. Just…just please get inside me,” you say, reaching back to pull the damp fabric of your panties aside, exposing your glistening, swollen folds for him to see.

You don’t have to ask him a third time. He’s on you so fast that you’re confused by his motions. It takes a few seconds before you realize that he’s taken your discarded flight suit and stretched it out on the ground, positioning you over it so that your hands and knees are protected from the dirt. The sweetness of this considerate action is offset by the way his fingers dig harshly into your hips, maneuvering your ass so that it lines up with his pelvis. You tilt forward, aided by pressure on your lower back which raises your click cunt to the level of his cock.

“I’m going to make you feel so good – ”

“No more words, Dameron. Just shut up and get your cock inside – FUCK.” He spears you mid-sentence and you immediately fall down onto your elbows. Your ass still in the air, held in place by his hard grip, receives a smack and you cry out, feeling no pain. Only pleasure as the sting ripples through you and into your clenching cunt. He feels it deep inside you and groans.

“Maybe you’re the one who needs to shut up, baby.” His words issue forth from gritted teeth. “Always fucking teasing me with that fucking mouth.” His hips rut into yours, taking up an unforgiving pace, while the rest of his body folds over yours so his chest pressed flush to your back. One hand closes tightly around your chin, wrenching up your head and dragging a finger over your bottom lip which has grown plump from biting. “This beautiful, bossy fucking mouth. Always telling me off, telling me what to do.”

Your tongue darts out to meet his skin and his other fingers caress your chin in response. It’s a stark contrast to the almost feral way he is still clutching your hip and driving into you over and over.

There’s almost no resistance. You’re tight, cunt clutching onto his throbbing cock in an effort to keep him buried inside, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been and it’s making his thrusts effortless. You assume it’s a side effect of the drink. But in some part of your brain you can’t believe that a plant could possibly make a man’s cock feel as good as Poe’s does right now inside you. How a plant could cause you to feel pleasure that is not simply rooted in the way his hand drags down from your jaw to wrench your breasts out of the cups of your bra. How a plant could in any way magnify the surely already intoxicating feeling of Poe’s mouth working at the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder.

“This working, baby? This doing it?” Poe checks in then, not relenting in his thrusts. Never relenting. “You’re squeezing me, so I know your little pussy likes it.”

A shuddering gasp kicks through you before you can answer his question and he laughs. The vibrations go straight from his cock to your clit and you whimper some more.

“Your sounds. I want to record these little sounds you’re making and play them back when I’m flying. Have you fill the space in my x-wing till I can’t take it any more.” Poe presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, nipping and then laving the skin over with his tongue. “I’m going to hear these sounds in my dreams.”

“It’s…just…the drink,” you practically hiccup, barely able to form thoughts from the way your body has focused all energy, all recognitions of nerve endings to the space between your thighs. Poe slaps your ass again and you keen.

“Just listen to yourself, baby. No drink is making you sound this hot. That’s all you, Sweets.”

Before you can argue further you do take a second to listen. To the way your shallow breaths mix with whimpers and whines. The gurgle in the back of your throat when his cock bounces against your cervix. He’s right. It is hot. You are hot. You reach a hand down to your clit, desperate to increase the already mind-blowing stimulation, greedy for more.

“You feel so good. You’re sosososogood,” you barely manage to slur. Despite your inability to fully speak you make the attempt because you assume that if hearing your gasps is egging him on, your words will amplify it. And amplify it they do. Poe’s hips stutter for a second before he drops down heavier on you, thrusting deeper and from a more primal place. A hand savagely kneads at one of your breasts, playing with the nipple.

“I’ve never been this full. I can’t take it, I can’t…”

“Seems like you’re taking it pretty well, baby,” Poe coos, pressing more kisses to the side of your neck.

“I need m-more,” you gasp, realizing with urgency that the pressure in your core is finally building past the plateau of the last…hour? Half an hour? How long had this been going on? All night? It doesn’t matter because Poe’s inside you and he’s listening to you and suddenly you’re being slammed into with all the force he can muster. He expertly wrings pleasure from your body and you feel yourself careening toward a release that you can’t describe. Just out of reach and full of all the potential energy inherent in an object rocketing toward the moon only to soon plummet back to the depths.

“Poe! I…I…oh fuck…oh gods…I…”

“Go on, baby. Cum.”

“You ha- ahhhh. But you…y-you…” You’re babbling. You’re incoherent, not wanting to leave him behind in the blinding ache that comes before release. Your hands are fisting in the flight suit below you, desperate for something solid, something substantial to hold onto.

“Don’t wait for me, Sweets. Let go.”

And then his hands are closing over yours, fingers interlacing and squeezing down, pinning you to the ground with white knuckles that would hurt if you weren’t squeezing him right back, finally grounded in the way you needed.

And you’re cumming.

And cumming.

You feel every muscle in your body seize and spasm and bliss roils out through you in waves. You shake and stutter under him, feeling fresh wetness gush down around his cock as he fucks you through the feeling. You keep waiting for it to stop but it doesn’t, it only intensifies. It must be a side effect. Of the drink not the man. But when you feel yourself transcending the moment, the way your soul feels like it is literally floating above you, you use the out of body experience to take in the man who is causing this pleasure. The way he cages you in, bracing you through the storm of your orgasm, giving more and more to keep the flame burning as long as possible.

His muscles ultimately seize sometime around when your soul seems to sink back into your body and you’re one again enough with your senses that you can feel him paint your walls with sticky, hot cum. He doesn’t drop his weight on you like other men have after the completion of such exertions. Other men who had focused more on the destination than the journey, leaving you as wanting for release as you were wanting for air under the pressure of their body weight. Instead, Poe pulls you of you and flops to his back in the grass beside you. Without him holding you up you crumble down, face pressing into the fabric of your rumpled flight suit instead of the dirt, thanks to Poe.

A few minutes pass, silent except for the sound of your slowing gasps for air. When your breathing evens Poe sits up on his haunches to guide you back into your flight suit. You’re sticky from sweat and your combined cum, but you couldn’t care less with your bones liquified and your eyelids heavy. Gone is the buzzing ache, in its place a heavy sleepiness. When Poe lays you, now clothed, gingerly back down on the ground you automatically curl into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around your body.

Neither of you shares another word. You don’t have to.

Because shortly after you doze off. And for the first time in a long time your final thoughts before sleep overtakes you are not of the dread the morning will bring, but the solace you found in the night.

~*~

When you wake it’s to a dawn as grey as all the ones before it. Hazy with receding fog and with the promise of all the danger that looms ahead in the hours soon to follow. One of the planet’s suns has already breached the horizon, and you raise a hand to cover your eyes as you peer out from under the x-wing’s protective wing. Looking down you take stock.

Your flight suit is on but fully unzipped, leaving your chest and stomach entirely exposed, all the way down to your lower belly. A large hand covers one of your breasts, fingers twitching against your flesh as the man attached to it continues to dream. You follow the length of his arm to take in his body, tucked close into your own, equally unzipped, his broad torso showing through the gaping fabric. You watch Poe’s abdominal muscles contract with his inhales and exhales for a moment while you check in with your body.

The humming from last night is gone, that much is for certain. This makes you believe that the effects of the drink have worn off. You’re quick to question this hypothesis, however, when Poe stirs in his sleep and his hand squeezes down a bit on your breast. Your breath catches in your throat and fire shoots through your veins. A lingering symptom, you wonder. Or perhaps just a normal, biological reaction to sexual stimuli. You kick yourself mentally because of course it has to be the latter. It couldn’t be the third option which you won’t even allow yourself to fully consider.

You require a shower urgently, it occurs to you suddenly. And food, a realization that coincides with a rumbling in your empty stomach. Knowing you’ll never have a good enough excuse to extricate yourself from this gorgeous man’s arms you steel your nerves and pull away. When you stand, Poe groans and allows an eye to crack open, his hand flying up to shield his eyes from the rising sun. You’re silhouetted against the dawn and he takes in your outline. The curves of you.

“Morning, Sweets,” he says, voice hoarse with sleep this time instead of sex.

“Morning, Fly Boy,” you reply simply with a small smile. You feel a buzzing in the pocket of your suit then and pull out your mini com unit, even more portable than your usual data pad. The message that blares across the screen and you relay it before Poe can reach his own device which had similarly vibrated.

“We’ve got a new mission. Briefing is in an hour and then we take off.” The information feels stilted as it leaves your lips. How can you feel so entirely, earth-shatteringly changed and yet in many ways everything is still the same. The sun still came up. The war still rages on.

You look down at Poe and his intense expression as he watches you makes you think that he’s wondering the same thing.

Your heart thumps in your chest, this time unaided by any drugged drink or the eyes or hands of a man whose existence seemed both your making and undoing. Routine is the only thing that can calm these nerves. Routine is what is required to survive war. Routine and protocol and boundaries.

You zip up your flight suit with finality.

“See you at the briefing?” you ask, though its more statement than question.

“Of course.” Poe’s response is quiet as he continues to watch you from his reclining position. You’re still above him and at a distance, a position he often associates with you.

You smile and give him a good natured salute before turning and making you way back toward the town where you know the rest of the Resistance members are already bustling about and preparing for the day.

Another day you hope you, and Poe, will be lucky enough to outlive.

~*~

Doing a smaller taglist since it’s a Poe fic and I’m not sure if everyone on my usual taglist is into it (Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed for future work!): @paper-n-ashes @mariesackler @tlcwrites @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess @sacklerscumrag @jynzandtonic @millenialcatlady @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @hopeamarsu @direnightshade @leather-flannel-liquor @fizzywoohoo @aliveandlonely @wayward-rose @safarigirlsp @emeraldsiren20 @finn-ray-nal-beads @maryforyou @maybe-your-left

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auty-ren · 3 years

Text

The Offer: Chapter 8

Distractions

Pairings: The Mandalorian x Reader, Din Djarin x Reader, ClanLeader!Din x Reader.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 6k

Warnings: Smut (oral (m), exhibitionism, rough sex, penetrative sex, public (outdoor) sex, doggy style, breeding kink, dirty talk). Descriptions of canonical violence. Implied injury. Talk of children/pregnancy. Fluff. Talk of death/’meaning of life.’ Honeymoon shenanigans. Two big idiots being in love. A little surprise for all the Mira stans out there.

A/n: I hope y’all are ready for some more world-building! We get to see a bit into Din’s past in this chapter, and shed some light on some possible ulterior motives. Second a/n at the bottom! Hope y’all enjoy💗.

Summary: Din and you finally didn't the time to slow down for a bit and you find out quickly that you weren't the only ones who had something planned.

The Offer Masterlist | My Masterlist

The stone beneath your fingertips was rough, pewter-colored grains gathering at the edge of the brick you sat on until you flicked them off with your finger. You squinted and watched the few larger pieces you could see as they fell to the ground, collecting just a few inches from your feet. A chunkier, darker colored boot came into your line of sight and you followed the path up his legs until you were met with the matte blue of Paz’s visor. You squinted through a smile as he tilted his head, blocking the sun from your face and gesturing to your boot.

“Do you like them?”

The leather squeaked as you flexed your toes in your boot, your foot turning to the side as you lift your leg a little to show it off. You nodded, a sheepish grin plastering across your face knocked your heels together.

Paz didn't have to ask where you had gotten them; they were brand new, a practically perfect fit, and made specifically for you.

“....at your husband's request.”

You shouldn't have expected less from Din, especially from the way he had reacted when the sole of your original shoe finally gave out. He had made such a big deal out of it; even after you told him it was fine, tossing them to the side and continuing with a simple pair of slip-ons you had. Din wasn't so quick to dismiss it, he picked up the boot in question and watched as the split in the arch grew wider and puckered when he squeezed it in his hand.

It was a surprise to find the new pair sitting on the table this morning, along with a note handwritten by Din.

“These have been made for you at your husband's request. Please, take very good care of them. -Din.”

You could practically hear the playful attitude in his voice and picture the laugh he probably had as he wrote out the words.

The written ink was smeared, the corners of the spare paper fraying, and some of the letters were hard to make out; but you loved all of it, every flaw and every second of care that Din had poured into such a simple thing. You had smoothed out any creases that had been left in the paper, being careful to not spread any of the ink further, and placed the note inside one of the books in the chest that sat at the end of your shared bed, another one of Din's gifts. It felt silly sometimes to hold on to such trivial things; but when you read the note again, one last time before putting it in the chest for safe-keeping, it didn't feel silly at all. It felt warm and airy and it tickled your cheeks with a feeling you had only ever had around Din.

“You don’t have to wait with me you know?” you peered up at Paz and tilted your head to mirror his. “I’m perfectly capable of finding him without you.”

“I know that Vod’ika,” Paz crossed his arms and leaned against the same wall you sat on. “I figured you would like the company.”

“Always,” you bumped your shoulder against his playfully, looking to the entry of the great hall just a few feet from where you sat.

It was quiet around the great hall, most people being respectful of the council and leaving an empty and silent place for them to work in. You stood from your seat, walking just a few steps in front of you until you were met with the adjacent wall, leaning forward and craning your neck to look at the sky.

“Did he say why he sent for me?” you questioned, though it wasn't bothersome on your end, it did make you wonder what was so important for Din to send someone for you instead of just looking for you himself.

“He only asked me to bring you to him, once the council had finished,” Paz gestured to the door. “They should be done at any moment.”

It wasn't a few minutes later that you found yourself walking the halls just a few steps behind Paz, Mandalorians passed the two of you; your path seemingly going in the wrong direction from the way they flowed down the hall. You nodded to the people who noticed you, most of them giving a simple acknowledgment of your presence; the few without helmets offering a smile.

Some stray voices carried through the halls, echoing off the stone and mostly indistinguishable by the time they found you. You followed Paz turning a corner where the voices grew louder as you stepped through the threshold of a doorway.

There was a long table that stretched across nearly every inch of the room, a few groups of people still lingering as they slowly filed out of the room. Din stood at the head of the table, speaking to an older Mandalorian who carried his helmet under his arm, his hair was greyed and worry-lines set deep into his features. Their conversation hushed as you and Paz neared, Din's helmet turning to follow the direction his counterpart had looked. He said your name softly, turning to face you better.

“As requested,” Paz joked as he stepped towards the other two men. “Took me far too long to find her, you should keep a better track of her, Djarin.”

You rolled your eyes at the laugh they shared, grinning as you watched the two of them shake hands and joke with one another.

“Cyar'ika,” Din turned to you and held his hand out to you. You took it and went to stand at his side, leaning towards him as your fingers intertwined. He gestured to the unnamed Mandalorian, repeating your name to him and introducing the two of you.

“This is Medrit, a member of our council and my mentor from when I was a youngling.”

You had seen Medrit around in the village before, mostly when you had sat at dinner with Mira; but you had yet to speak with him. His demeanor told that he was someone of importance, and the decorations that sat on his chest were a testament to that as well.

You smiled at him, nodding as he repeated your name and offered you his hand to shake.

“Din Djarin has told me much about you,” Medirt spoke, smiling fondly as he patted Din on the shoulder. “I'm sorry I missed your presentation and have failed to meet you before this.”

“Medrit and I have been busy.” Din sounded almost shy, something that sounded so foreign to you. Medrit seemed to agree, exchanging a look with Din that did not go unnoticed.

“But I hope to know you better, very soon.”

He reminded you so much of Din, in the way he spoke and carried himself. You wondered if we're seeing a glimpse of Din's future, the thought of his hair greying at his temples bringing a smile to your face.

“I would like that very much.”

Medrit and Paz said their goodbyes not too long after, following the last few people who remained out of the room. Din and you were left alone, save for the guards who were paired at the doors. Before you could think of asking, Din dismissed them; the two of them shuffling out of the room at his command and pulling the heavy wooden doors closed with a thud.

“You never told me you had a throne.” You teased him, pointing to the chair that was behind him. It was noticeably larger than the others at the table; made of the same wood, deep, rich in color with designs and phrases etched into the arch that served as the backrest. The chair wasn't much different than the rest, but you noticed it nonetheless, grinning at him as he shook his head.

“It's not a throne, Cyar'ika.” You could hear the grin on his voice, his helmet pressing gently against your forehead as he squeezed your hand.

“You look beautiful.”

The leather of his gloves was warm against your face, following along your jaw until he pushed them into your hair.

“Your hair?” He questioned, his fingers pulling away once he noticed resistance.

“The children,” You smiled at the memories, shrugging a little when Din chuckled. “They wanted to practice.”

Some days it felt like there wasn't much you could do to contribute to the Clan. As much as you hated following Mira around as if you were lost, especially since you were married to their Alor; she never minded the company or the help for that matter.

You sat with her for lunch just outside the gated areas that served as the gardens, sitting on empty crates and sharing some of the food you had spent the morning picking. It’s where you met Korri, a sweet girl about your age with kind eyes and a quick tongue that kept even Mira’s smart mouth at bay. You noticed how Mira’s eyes focused on her when she spoke and the way their hands brushed against each other anytime they stood near each other. You didn’t mean to tease Mira badly but, you couldn’t resist seeing the meek expression that crossed her face when you questioned her about it. The two of you were alone and gossiping like schoolgirls over bushels of food; sorting the good from the bad once most of it had been harvested. Korri had joined you, fitting right into your conversation once the awkward tension had dissipated.

As you ate together, you watched as children ran around, playing games of their imagination, their laughter carrying through the gardens. You had learned a few of their names, becoming familiar with them as the times you helped Mira grew in number. Sometimes during your breaks they would come and sit with you, asking questions with an innocence that only seemed understandable because of their age. Most of them understand what your marriage to Din meant, and a few of the older ones had even made a habit of calling you their Alor; a title you knew they used with no real bearing but was a little joke between you and them.

And of course, when one of them came up to you and begged you to let them practice on your hair, you had no resolve to tell them no.

They were careful, as careful as someone so young could be; twisting sections of your hair into different patterns until they found one they liked. Eventually pulling most of it back from your face and securing it with a tie. They insisted on picking some of the small clusters of wildflowers that grew along the fences of the garden and putting them in the ties of your hair. You sat and let them work for as long as they liked, thanking them and making over their handy work as they giggled at your praise.

The children were all very sweet, and some days you looked forward to them following you while you worked, enjoying their company no matter how tedious it could be.

“You look beautiful.” He repeated the sentiment from earlier, his voice just barely above a whisper.

You pressed yourself up against him, your hands resting on his chest while his arms fell to hold onto your hips. You tilted your head, batting your eyes as you looked up at him with a pout.

“Kiss me.”

He groaned a little, squeezing his arms tighter around you.

“Not in here, Cyar'ika.” he sighed, his breath hitching a little when you leaned to press a kiss on the spot where his chest and neck met. “I can't.”

You nuzzled your nose in his skin, dragging your lips up and down and leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. His fingers dug into your flesh, his hands flexing sharply as your nails running gently down his chest, stopping at the signet that cast his belt.

“Sit down, then.”

You pushed his shoulders, watching as he followed your direction and sat in his seat; his thighs spreading naturally as you kneeled in-between them.

When you finally put your mouth on him, he had nearly shot straight out of his chair from how hard his hips bucked. He was wound tight, his cock hard and throbbing under your touch from you teasing him; running your nails over his skin, and mouthing kisses onto his tummy, just barely ghosting over his groin.

He moaned your name, the sound practically melodic even through the metallic filter of his helmet, as you locked eyes with him. You guessed about where they'd be under there, imagining the vivid, dark color of his irises as you had seen them just this morning.

“You look so beautiful, Cyar'ika.” He groaned when he hit the back of your throat, choking out a curse as you slowly pull your mouth back up the length of his cock. “Taking my cock like this.”

You pulled off him with a wet pop, giving a few sweet kisses to the tip before wrapping your lips around him again.

“I don't deserve you, sweet girl.”

“We'll make it on foot, but it'll take a little while to get there.”

“You still haven't told me where we are going.” You released the strap of your bag to grab Din's hand your finger intertwining and your paces synchronizing as if from memory.

You had been walking on this trail for a while, it was one you had never been on before, but Din seemed to know where he was going. So you followed him, watching over your shoulder as the village slowly disappeared into the treeline behind you.

“That is the point of a surprise, Cyar'ika.”

A surprise.

Although it had been almost three months since you had married him, Din still surprised you. Sometimes in the form of his words, his actions, and sometimes with gifts; all things you told him weren’t necessary but he insisted on giving to you, his way of making sure you were taken care of. Of all the things Din could be, he was protective and caring in ways you had never realized could be so intimate with another person.

You knew he would kill for you, and you were sure he had threatened that before.

You had never brought it up, but you knew Din had threatened Kron the night of your presentation. You could count on one hand the number of times you had seen him since, a stark contrast to how he seemed to loom over you in the months prior. While you knew Kron deserved every word that Din had spoken to him, part of you couldn’t help but wonder about it. You were happy to put the experience behind you but part of you worried that it was about something that laid below the surface. You had never even known why Kron had even shown interest in speaking with you in the first place.

“That man, Kron,” you spoke before you had even decided if it was best to bring this up. “Why do you think he hates me?”

He didn’t say anything at first, taking a moment as if he needed to collect his thoughts, the gears turning under the shin of his helmet as he figured out what to say.

“I don't think he hates you, Cyar'ika.”

You scoffed, earning your hand a squeeze as he turned his head to look at you.

“Well, I would've believed otherwise.”

He stopped fully, your hands still connecting the two of you when you stopped just a second after he did, turning to face him. He sighed, breath coming from deep within his chest and causing his shoulders to raise with the force of it.

“He's angry with me,” he paused, still gathering his thoughts as if he needed to decipher what exactly to tell you. “and he never should have taken that out on you.”

“Why would he be angry with you?”

Maybe it was better to drop the subject, but you couldn’t help the curiosity you felt; an itching feeling that got worse with every word Din said.

“Because I beat him.”

The Mandalorians had a particular way of running things, traditions, and governments that sometimes dated back farther than anyone could remember. It didn’t surprise you that it wasn't a matter of electing someone to become their leader, they had to prove themselves just like they did as a child.

“Our leader before me was a wise man named Goran.” Din paused for a moment, leaning his head back until his visor pointed to the sky and then dipped to look at you. “When the time came, he had no children, successors to carry on his line.”

Shortly after the Verd’goten, The elders had announced that the future chief would be chosen from younglings hand-picked by the council. There were days, weeks dedicated to the trials that had been prepared for them; tests of their skill as a leader, a warrior, a Mandalorian. Something like that didn’t happen every day, and nearly all of the village watched as each of the candidates were tested; it became a game of sorts.

Both Din and Kron had been chosen by the members of the council, both of them had succeeded at nearly every challenge and in the final weeks, they were the only two competitors left.

“He was a few years older than me,” He started walking again, pulling you along with him as you listened to him retell it. “Much bigger and more experienced than I was. I think everyone thought he would be chosen.”

The story Mira told you when you first asked about Din was true. As a final test of their strength, both were sent on a hunt; they needed to kill the Mudhorn that had been terrorizing part of the village. Taking down such a creature would be the ultimate approval of a warrior’s capability and skill, and their willingness to protect those who are innocent.

Din had won.

The night he had made his way back to the village, carrying the horn of the beast over his back as evidence of his victory, he was welcomed with open arms. The celebration has lasted for a week and at the end of it, he was crowned the new chief.

“You are the only living thing that has seen my face, since.”

The tenants of his creed had been solidified then, with status came the change and responsibility greater than most had.

“How old were you?”

He hesitated, almost as if he was ashamed to admit it.

“Fifteen.”

“You were just a child.”

“Maybe, so.” He looked at you, his free hand coming up to squeeze the fingers still tightly wrapped around his bicep.

“It must have been hard on you, having enormous responsibility so young.”

You could never imagine the burden Din had to carry and to have it from such a young age; sometimes you had no idea how Din had survived for so long on his own.

“This is the way.”

You placed a kiss on the pauldron of his shoulder, right over the Mudhorn signet that had been molded into the beskar, laying your head against the cold metal as you walked in silence again.

There may never come a time when you fully understand Din's creed, and even if you sometimes thought his life would be easier without it, you never wanted to disrespect his beliefs. You would be there for him, even when you disagreed with his reasoning. Making sure he didn't carry such a weight single-handedly anymore was the only thing you concerned yourself with; Din knowing he didn't have to do this alone anymore was all that mattered.

“One day my time will end, and there will be someone to take the helm just as I did from him.”

You had talked about things like this with Din before, most of the conversation happening in the late hours of the night as you tried to find sleep; you talked about a future, the life you wanted to lead with him, and what would become of that. And want the end would look like.

“I don't want to think about that.” You dismissed him, looping your arm around his tighter and pushing any sort of similar thought from your mind.

“All things must come to pass, Cyar'ika.” His tone was gentle, the words almost lost from how quietly he spoke them. “One of our children will be the next to lead us, and I will die at peace knowing they are prepared to take my place.”

“Our children will be lucky to have a father like you to teach them,” you smiled, shaking your head as you looked at him. “I don't think there's much I could do.”

Din slowed his steps, pulling his arm from your grip and he stood in front of you again. Something in him changed, his demeanor much sharper, determined than what it had been before.

“You have overcome so much in your life, Cyar'ika.” He was quiet again, his words carrying an emotion you could feel as he stepped closer to you, the space separating the two of you falling away to practically nothing.

“Just because you have never wielded a weapon in battle does not make your life less honorable.”

He guided your gaze back on him when it fell, his knuckles gently running along your jaw and tapping against your chin as a request for you to look at him.

“Never degrade yourself from anything less than deserving.”

Din had a way of saying just the right thing, it was as if he had time to carefully plan every single word before it fell from his lips. You smiled up at him as he held your face in his hands, the leather of his gloves contrasting the warmth that you felt in your cheeks.

“If our children are half as kind as you are, Cyar'ika….then I know we will have done something right for them.”

“Don't look.”

“I'm not.”

You couldn't help but giggle at how silly this felt; the kind of feeling that was light, and innocent and left butterflies that swirled inside your stomach when Din laughed at you.

“See,” you squeezed your hands dramatically over your face, trying to prove you had no intention of breaking your promise. “I can't see a thing.”

Even with a half-hearted attempt at reassurance, Din wasn't convinced you'd keep true to your word.

“Yeah?”

You felt the soft fabric of a blindfold cover your face, you slipped your hands out from under it as Din tied it in a knot at the back of your head.

“I think I know you better than that, Cyar'ika.”

His arms wrapped around your waist and hauled you off the rock you had taken a break on.

“A girl can try can't she?” He spun you around until you faced in the other direction, setting you down as you gripped his biceps to keep your balance.

“Maybe,” he turned around, and you heard the sound of him moving around a little bit, then his unfiltered voice hit your ear. “But then you'll ruin the surprise.”

He took the bag from your shoulders and you reached out for him blindly, your belongings hitting the forest floor with a dull thud. He held on to your wrists and gave you a quick kiss on the lips before he lifted you into his arms. One of his hands settled underneath your knees, while the other wrapped around your waist.

You couldn't tell why Din had brought you out here, you couldn't see much as the path disappeared under your feet, the worn cut that had been made on the forest floor blending back into its surroundings. Din had insisted you close your eyes as soon as you reached the end, and he guided you to sit and wait until he was ready. The trail had led to the start of a hill from what you could tell, the sun shining brightly on the other side and casting both of you in a shadow as you stood at its base. Din grunted as he started up the hill, and you dug your fingers tighter into his furs as you shifted in his arms.

He carried you to the top; even with you commenting on how capable you were at walking he just ignored you.

“This is about you, Cyar'ika.”

“About me?” You could feel the sunlight pass over your features from behind your blindfold, warm and kissing your skin as you grinned up at him.

He sat you down once he passed the top, helping you balance yourself against him with his hands still roaming your sides. He turned you around with a kiss to your lips, your back pressing against his chest.

“Are you ready?”

He pressed his lips into your shoulder, trailing sweet kisses up your neck until he reached your ear; his voice rumbling deep in his chest as he whispered the words into your skin.

“I hope.”

There was a nervousness that settled in your stomach, an excitement that flooded your veins but left you woozy as you leaned against him. You felt his hands reach for the blindfold, loosening the knot and letting the soft material fall away from your eyes.

It took a moment for you to adjust to the light, the sun was bright and hovering over the horizon, bathing everything in a beautiful golden glow and you shuddered out a breath when everything came into view.

It went on forever, large stretches of meadow littered with pinks and reds that swirled in gentle patterns; flowers of every kind dancing around your feet and tickling the skirt of your dress. You could see the colors vividly under the brightness of the setting sun; blooms that were full and in every shape imaginable stood at your fingertips.

“Do you like it?”

You felt him smiling against your skin, peppering small kisses along your jaw and cheek.

“It's wonderful.”

You turned in his arms, your faces just a hairbreadth away from one another as a question burned on the tip of your tongue.

“Din, how did you-”

“It's yours.” Din cut you off, his hand cupping your jaw while his thumb gently ran across the apple of your cheek.

“Mine?”

He held onto you tighter, and you felt like you were gonna burst; your chest swelling with the immeasurable feeling you got every time he looked at you.

“I’m giving it to you.”

You could see the warmth hidden behind a heavy-set brow, his irises a deep, rich color that sparkled with golden flecks of sun and left you breathless. His kiss was soft and left your mouth burning in the wake of his touch, your hands threading through his hair and pulling him deeper as your lips slotted together.

“Every year, that is the trail we use when we go on our hunts,” Din explained pulling away just enough for the words to slip past his lip, his palms still caressing the side of your face.

“And every year we pass by this meadow without so much as a second glance.”

Your hands wandered to hold Din’s arms, your fingers trailing along the length of his forearm until they came to rest at his wrists. He smiled as you squeezed them in your palms, your forefinger tracing tiny patterns on the underside of his arm.

“But this time, Cyar'ika, all I could think about was you.”

You felt tears brimming at his words, and when they finally rolled down your cheeks he brushed them away; catching them with his thumb as they fell from your eyes.

“So I'm giving it to you.”

He kissed you again, his mouth heavy against yours and his touch like molten that left a gentle burn underneath your skin. His taste was practically burned on your tongue by the time you pulled away from him, your threaded fingers the only thing that stayed connected as you led him deeper into the meadow. He was impatient, stopping you much sooner than you had planned, your chest colliding as he pulled you back to his arms. Warm, wet kisses trailed over your neck, his teeth sinking into the sensitive spot on your shoulder, making you groan in his ear. You gasped as your hands ran over his back, your nails scratching lightly and traveling to pull the curls at the base of his neck.

You don't remember how you got to the ground, it doesn't even register that you're moving until you feel the solid earth beneath you, pinned by Din's weight. His hands felt like they were everywhere at once, warm, and calloused against your skin once he removed his gloves. They pulled at pieces of your clothes, your own hands going to pull the latches that held Din's cape.

“You want to give me warriors, Cyar'ika?” He growled into your ears, your bodies rutting against each other as you desperately tried to strip yourself of enough layers to have each other. “Be my sweet Riddur and bare my children?”

Din chuckled at the completely sinful sound that left your lips, half-concocted strings of pleas spewing from your mouth; begging for him to touch you, to kiss you, to fill you to the brim with everything that was him.

“Let me breed you, sweet girl, as a proper husband should.”

He wasn't gentle when his hips finally rocked into yours, but it felt so blissful; like your body was tingling with excitement and about to burst with each cant of his hips.

Your knees dug into the dirt beneath you, the material of Din's cape doing nothing to cushion you from the weight of his thrusts; the sound of your love-making the only thing that could be heard over the moans you shared.

He clung to you as if his life depended on it, kissing every inch of you he could reach and gripping you hard enough to leave imprints of his hands on your skin.

He swallowed the screams that laid on the edge of your tongue in a kiss, his fingers circling your clit as you ride your high over and over again. You were so sensitive when he had finally finished, your nerves heightened and your cunt glistening with the mixture of your releases.

You shared ‘I love you’s between slow kisses, your lips swollen and sensitive as he nipped them between his teeth. You held him close, burying your nose in his hair as you lay beneath a painted sky, every color imaginable dancing above you as the world continued slowly from day into night.

There was hardly a shred of sunlight left in the sky as you made your way back to the village. Din all but led you, the darkness making the forest a little more difficult to move through; your fingers gripped any piece of his clothing you could reach, clinging to his side as if you were afraid he'd leave you behind.

He chuckled a little bit as one of your hands gripped his cape, the other landing on his bicep and walking directly behind him, your head resting on his shoulder blade. You let go of him as he tapped your hand, stopping in his tracks to brace himself and telling you to climb into his back. You hesitated for a moment, you have no idea how much longer it would be to get home; there was no way Din could be comfortable carrying you for that long.

“Come on, Cyar'ika.” He turned his helmet to look at you, what little moon that was out tonight glinting off the visor.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, jumping when he told you to and moving with him as his arms helped you settle on his back. He walked a little slower but he still seemed to navigate the trail better than you. You could feel the breaths he took from under his helmet, his chin peeking out from under his helmet from your angle. You laid your head against his shoulder and hummed as you squeezed his neck tighter, your finger sticking out to tickle him along his jawline. He flinched slightly, huffing out a laugh as he groaned out a meaningless warning. You settled your cheek against his pauldron, looking out as slopes of land started to form under the faint shine of the moon. The night was still around you, the only noise that registered being the thump of Din's boots on the ground and the faint sound of a broken breeze that wafted through the woods. You could see lights from the villager's home through the thinning treeline, the mountains that served as the backdrop of your home glowing with blue hue under the moonlight.

“We're almost there.” You commented, pointing a finger in the direction of the village.

Din slowed for a second and lifted his head to follow your hand, commenting on your ‘good eye.’ You huffed and held on tighter to his neck, trying to hold some of your body weight up to make it easier for him.

It didn't take much longer to reach the edge of the forest, the homes of the village much closer and more lively than they had looked from a distance.

There was something uneasy that washed over as you slipped from Din's grip, your feet landing flat on the ground that felt alive underneath you. The earth was rumbling, hardly noticeable but it tickled you through the soles of your boots as you stood still. You look over to find Din looking towards the village, his hand reaching out for you and pulling you to stand behind him. He held onto your hand with a bruising grip as if he were afraid you would slip through his fingertips.

It hit before you could ask him what was wrong, a blinding light that knocked you to your feet and left you scrambling against the dirt beneath you. There was a pounding inside of your head, a deafening sound that was shrill and left ringing in your ears. Your head was spinning as you tried to sit up, fighting against a heavy weight that kept you pinned to the ground. There were sounds of voices, muffled yelling that barely registered as you blinked up at the sky.

The canopy of the trees was glowing in shades of violent reds that swirled around bellows of smoke. Your body felt heavy, every breath that passed through your lungs burned as you pushed against the pressure that held you down. You tried to move again, your arms limp and scratching against the dirt as shadows passed over your face. Some limbs seemed to move with yours slowly, with heavy hands bumping yours in their search for purchase. And then the weight was lifted, your vision blurring at the sight of Din's silver helmet. His hands held your face, words falling from his lips that were suffocated by the chaos that roared around you. Your eyes felt heavy, every time you blinked it was like heaven to have them close for just a second longer.

You looked at him, watching the colors dance across the profile of his helmet with words stuck on your tongue; sentences lost in the confusion that had settled over your mind. He was still talking to you, his arms sliding under your body to haul you off the ground; the remnants of a promise hitting your ear as your eyes finally closed.

“.... you're gonna be okay.”

Translations:

Vod’ika- Little sister

Alor- Leader, chief

Verd’goten- Mandalorian rite of passage

Riddur- Spouse, Husband/Wife

A/N (pt2): Y’all remember when the reader talked about how much she liked flowers because its something she remembers from her childhood??? Well Din did.

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#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #star wars fanfiction #clan leader au #clan leader mando #the offer #dyn jarren #mando x you #mando x reader #my writing #smut

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juriyuna · 2 years

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On the topic of characters joining Neo-Magius, it's fitting that Shizuka would team up with them too, despite not trusting them at all.

Shizuka was born and raised in a very old, very isolated mountain cult and groomed to want to become a magical girl from the day she was born. She was constantly fed stories about what a blessing it is to be chosen by "Kyuubei-sama", that Diviners are the ones who protect the land and its people, and that wishes should be made for the greater good of everyone. Tokime Village holds an elaborate ceremony to summon Kyubey so that a girl can make a contract, and the wish the girl makes is often predetermined by the clan.

The history and customs in this place are honestly pretty unsettling, but Shizuka grew up believing that it's all perfectly normal. A couple of her homescreen voice lines, for example:

"There is a hot spring in the back of the village where the girls go to partake in a purification ritual. We do this so that we may become beautiful enough to be chosen by Kyuubei-sama."

"Wishes should be made for the good of the world, and it is incredible when a girl is chosen by Kyuubei-sama. I wish everyone could understand that."

Like... it is deeply messed up that Tokime clan girls are indoctrinated with tales of how amazing Diviners are as children so that they'll want to sacrifice their souls as teenagers. Going off of the Green Jasper Diviners event, most of these girls probably don't survive to adulthood (they're sent to, uh, "leave the village" in a "coming-of-age ceremony" when their soul gem grows too dark-- which is a sneaky way of saying that they actually get shoved into a river and become food for the Wavering Deity witch).

Even now that Shizuka knows the truth of contracts and witches (this had all been obscured from potential contractees in Tokime), she still believes that being a Diviner is a proud and honorable thing. In ch.8, when she learns that Kyubey has been using them this whole time, she smiles and says "well, it's only natural for us to be unable to comprehend the higher beings who created us."

It's understandable that she'd view this as "normal" given her upbringing, but. Oh God. I am really not surprised that she was able to be swayed into joining Neo-Magius. I doubt Shizuka has ever lived a day in her life for herself instead of being "the Diviner who will protect everyone". She was raised that way, after all. And that's... honestly pretty heartbreaking??? The poor girl seems to struggle a lot with personal agency.

Which leads me to my next point:

It's important to note that Shizuka had never truly experienced hatred or evil until she left Tokime Village. (Aside from elder Mikoshiba, anyway.) The first time she felt true hatred and anger towards someone, it was because Yuna mocked the Tokime clan's beliefs, and Shizuka's newly-discovered negative emotions distressed her so much that her clan called her back home to help her out of her depression.

Shizuka has always believed in the theory of "inherent goodness"-- all humans, at their core, are good people. They may do bad things, or be swept down a corrupt path, but they can redeem themselves and become good again. Nobody is purely evil. Nobody is rotten to the very core.

... Right?

Until this conversation with Himena in ch.5 (TL courtesy of Mochi on discord):

Himena: Don't make fun of me. Going by Tokime's logic, we'd have to help dirty humans, too. Evil hides throughout the entire world because it's full of shitty people.

Shizuka: That is not true. All people are able to change for the better.

Himena: At least this cutie gets to be a part of the dirty scum. If it's for Hiko-kun, I'll do any bad deed. It will never change. Even in humans there's all kinds of evil, and you help them equally.

Shizuka: ―!? You're wrong, someday those people too will change. There is reason in helping them!

Himena: I really hate those pure eyes of yours. I don't need someone like you that's never gotten dirty before telling me how to be clean. Absolute altruism may seem pretty, but on the inside it's hollow.

This cuts Shizuka to the core so strongly that she straight-up yells "People will never find happiness with someone like you alive!" (If it weren't for Asahi taking a shot at Himena and Mitsune using her doppel, Shizuka may have actually killed her.)

Afterwards, Shizuka is haunted by what Himena said. This dredges itself up again and again through incidents such as corrupt politicians in Kamihama, or someone getting a rock thrown at them-- not because of a witch, but because they're just not good people. Shizuka struggles to comprehend these things, with Himena's words replaying in her mind over and over. What if she has a point...?

She can't take it. She can't take knowing that there are awful, nasty people out there who hurt and trick and lie to each other. And so, as much as she hates Himena and how cruel Neo-Magius could be, Shizuka sides with them in order to become a leader who will stop the spread of corruption in its tracks. As a Diviner who protects the country and everyone in it, she will be the one to steer her people down a path of justice. She'll ensure that evil and cruelty can no longer exist.

... It is a terribly flawed plan and I am fully expecting it to come crashing down around her in the future, but it makes a lot of sense with her character. Like, again, this is a teenager who grew up in a Kyubey-worshipping magical girl cult in the literal middle of nowhere. She'd only seen trains in photos, she thought the ocean was just like a big lake... Heck, she didn't even know what ice cream, a traffic light, an IC card, or a smartphone was until she met Chiharu and left her village. She's extremely sheltered.

Is joining the Neo-Magius a bad decision? Absolutely. Can one person singlehandedly stop all the world's evil at its root? Definitely not. But to Shizuka, who has known nothing but her hometown and culture until recently, these twisted thought processes make perfect sense.

#this is. twice as long as intended oops #magia record #tokime shizuka #long post #analysis

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celiabowens · 4 years

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underrated SFF books (YA and Adult)

So uhm, since I keep seeing the same books on my dash all the time (and I like them too, just...there’s more! to read!) here’s a list of less popular SFF books, divided into YA and Adult. I’ve tried to mention when there is lgbt rep and the trigger warnings. Also, books written by poc will be in bold. Please point out any typo or mistake or if I’ve forgotten specific rep/tw mentions.

All of these are books that I’ve read and enjoyed (by enjoyed I mean anything from 3 stars and above), but if anyone wants to add titles please feel free to do so!!

YA:

The Star-Touched Queen by Roshani Chokshi: beautifully written, fairytale-like story rich in mythology (inspired by several Hindu myths. There’s a full list on goodreads indicated by the author herself). Roshani’s prose is gorgeous.

A Crown of Wishes by Roshani Chokshi: it’s a companion novel to The Star-Touched Queen, but both can be read as a standalone. I liked this one more than its companion and I particularly loved how the romance was written (slow burn, but specifically, the author really highlights the mutual respect between the characters, we love to see it).

The Young Elites by Marie Lu: fantasy trilogy set in a world inspired by Renaissance Italy, in which children who survived a mysterious and deadly illness ended up with strange and dangerous powers. Secret societies and a female villain!

The Kingdom of Back by Marie Lu: historical fantasy following Mozart’s sister, Nannerl, a girl as talented as her brother, but afraid of being forgotten because of the lack of opportunities she has to be seen and heard. Nuanced sibling relationship, no romance.

The Midnight Lie by Marie Rutkoski: fantasy f/f romance! Both a coming of age story set in a society with a rigid class system and a slow burn f/f romance with a lot of banter. TW: abuse.

The Weight of Feathers by Anna-Marie McLemore: magical realism. The book follows two families of traveling performers that have been locked in a feud for over a generation. This was the author’s debut and I remember getting an arc of it and being impressed by both the prose and how the forbidden love trope was handled.

When the Moon was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore: another magical realism novel. One of the main characters is a trans boy and the book focuses on issues of racism and gender. One of my favorite YA!

Strange Grace by Tessa Gratton: fantasy romance set in a village that periodically sacrifices a young man in order to keep a deal with the devil that ensures their prosperity. Also, polyamorous and non-binary rep.

The Rise of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee: first book in a duology following avatar Kyoshi’s life. It explores the political and cultural aspect of the Earth Kingdom and Kyoshi’s past. Bisexual rep.

Descendant of the Crane by Joan He: sort of a murder mystery fantasy, as the main character finds herself suddenly thrust into power once her father has been murdered. The story has a slow build up to a last part full of twists and machinations and it features lots of court intrigue. Warning: the ending is quite open and afaik there isn’t a sequel planned as of now.

The Bone Houses by Emily Lloyd-Jones: a quite unique take on zombies influenced by Welsh mythology (it’s super cool). The novel follows Ryn and their siblings, as they try to get by after their parents’ death by working as gravediggers. Only well, the dead don’t always stay dead. The characters read a bit younger than they are imo. There is chronic pain rep.

The Magnolia Sword by Sherry Thomas: retelling of the original ballad of Mulan. The book follows Mulan, who’s trained her whole life to win a duel for a priceless heirloom, as she joins the army. There’s a lot of political and historical details, which I really appreciated. Do not go into it expecting a fun adventure though. The descriptions of war aren’t extremely graphic, but be aware of the fact that most of the book is set during a conflict.

The Candle and The Flame by Nafiza Azad: standalone fantasy set in a city on the Silk Road! It’s a quite slow-paced tale about love, family and politics. It has lush descriptions of landscapes and cultures (and FOOD, there are some really great descriptions of food). It’s a very atmospheric book and while I struggled a bit with the pace I’d still recommend it.

Forest of a Thousand Lanters by Julie C. Dao: sort of an East Asian inspired retelling of Snow White, but following the Evil Queen before she became Snow White’s stepmother. I honestly haven’t read its sequel (which should focus on Snow White herself), but I do think this can be read and enjoyed as a standalone too.

The Queen’s Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner: it’s hard to point out exactly what this series is about because it has evolved so much with time. It starts out as classic quest/adventure series with The Thief (which may seem a classic and simple book, but is actually full of foreshadowing and has a really clever set up), but develops into a complex and intriguing political fantasy in The Queen of Attolia and The King of Attolia (and then goes back to the quest theme in book 5, Thick as Thieves).

Adult:

A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers by Alyssa Wong: I’m cheating with this one because it’s technically a short story but I love Alyssa Wong’s stories so I’m putting it here anyway. It can be read for free and you should just...read it.

The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang: grimdark fantasy (TW: abuse, self harm, rape, drug abuse), inspired by Chinese history. It’s adult, but follows younger MCs and the unique blend of different historical periods/inspirations makes it extremely interesting. The characters are extremely fucked up in the best possible way, plus the use of shamanism is awesome. Please make sure you check all the TW before reading.

The Sword of Kaigen by M.L. Wang: a Japanese-inspired militaristic fantasy, with elemental magic, a badass housewife dealing with her past and hiding a sword in her kitchen’s floor. It has interesting and nuanced family dynamics and a great reflection on propaganda and the use of narratives.

Empire of Sand by Tasha Suri: first book in an epic fantasy duology inspired by Mughal India (TW: abuse, slavery). I really liked both Empire of Sand and its companion and I find them pretty underrated. Both books have great slow burn romance (with a focus on mutual trust and respect) and focus on culture, religion, self acceptance and politics.

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia: a fantasy bildungsroman set in Mexico during the Jazz age. It’s a great approach to adult SFF as it follows a young girl on a life changing adventure. It features Mayan mythology and a god slowly becoming human (this trope is everything!).

The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden: a coming of age story inspired by Russian folklore. The trilogy as a whole has one of the best arcs I’ve ever seen: each book is perfectly self-contained and has its own arc, but also fits perfectly in the bigger picture of the trilogy. The atmosphere is amazing, the cast of characters is extremely well developed. Also frost demons are better than men.

The Binding by Bridget Collins: historical fantasy, but with very minimal fantasy elements. It’s set in a world vaguely reminiscent of 19th century England. I’d say this book is about humans and self discovery. It’s about cowardice and the lies we tell ourselves and those we wish we could tell ourselves. Gay rep. (TW: abuse, sexual assault, pretty graphic suicide scene).

The Divine Cities trilogy by Robert Jackson Bennett: starting with City of Stairs, it follows a female diplomat and spymaster(!!). The whole trilogy features an interesting discussion about godhood, religion, fanatism, politics, without ever being boring or preachy. It has complex and rich world building and a pretty compelling mystery.

Foundryside by Robert Jackson Bennett: heist fantasy following a thief as she’s hired to steal a powerful artifact that may change magical technology as she knows it. Set in a Venice-like merchant city. Also, slow burn f/f romance.

Jade City by Fonda Lee: sort of a gangster urban fantasy, heavily inspired by wuxia and set in an Asian-inspired metropolis. It follows a pretty big cast of characters, each with their own journey and development. It features nuanced family dynamics and a lot of political and economical subplots. Not extremely prominent, but book 2 features m/m side rep.

Trail of Lightning by Rebecca Roanhorse: inspired by Native American culture and specifically by the idea of subsequent worlds. It has a kickass MC and a good mix of original elements and typical UF tropes. TW: the book isn’t extremely violent but there is death and some gore.

A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine: space opera inspired by the Mexica and middle period Byzantium. It focuses on topics like colonialism and the power of narratives and language. It has one of the best descriptions of what it’s like to live in between spaces I’ve ever read. Also very interesting political intrigue and has a slow burn f/f romance (and a poly relationship recalled through flashbacks). I ranted a lot about it already.

Ninefox Gambit by Yoon Ha Lee: a Korean-inspired space opera with a magic system based on math. It’s honestly quite convoluted and difficult to follow, but it also features some of the best political intrigue I’ve ever read. Plenty of lying, backstabbing and mind games. It also features lesbian and bisexual rep and an aroace side character (TW: mass shooting, sexual assault, abuse). I also really recommend Yoon Ha Lee’s short-story collection Conservation of Shadows.

The long way to a small angry planet by Becky Chambers: character driven space opera featuring a found family journeying through space. A fun read, that also deals with topics such as sexuality and race. Quite easy to go through, as the world building and plot aren’t particularly complex themselves. f/f romance.

The Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo: an Asian-inspired fantasy novella that gives a voice to people usually silenced by history. It follows a cleric (non binary rep) as they chronicle the story of the late empress, retold through objects that she used in her life. It focuses on bonds between women and the power that lies in being unnoticed. f/f side rep.

The Black God’s Drums by P. Djèlí Clark: an urban fantasy novella, based on Orisha mythology and set in an alternate, sort of steampunk, New Orleans. I really like how creative Clark’s worlds are and how good he is at writing female characters (which rarely happens with male authors).

The haunting of tram car 015 by P. Djèlí Clark: novella set in an alternate steampunk Cairo populated by supernatural entities. It’s set in the same world of a Dead Djinn in Cairo, which is a short story you can read for free.

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone: epistolary novella set during a time-travel war. It has gorgeous writing and an amazing f/f romance. As a novella, it’s quite short but it’s beautifully crafted and so complex for such a short book!

The Citadel of Weeping Pearls by Aliette de Bodard: a novella set in the Xuya universe (a series of novellas/short stories set in a timeline where Asia became dominant, and where the space age has empires of Vietnamese and Chinese inspiration), but can be read as a standalone. It’s a space opera featuring a disappeared citadel and the complex relationship between the empress and her daughter as war threatens her empire.

One for My Enemy by Olivie Blake: self-published urban fantasy following two rival families in New York. Sort of a Romeo and Juliette retelling but with gangster families and magic. Honestly recommend all of her books, I love how Olivie writes and especially how she writes female characters.

#book recs #book recommendations #adult sff #ya literature #lgbt fiction #litblr #listen this doesn't show in tags i'm DONE #done with this tagging system lol #also if there are mistakes please tell me!!#book rec

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margaretbellaware · 3 years

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The Azarola Girl - Chapter 03

Masterlist

Warnings: Vomiting and arguing.

Heisenberg and Y/n stood off to the side, watching as Alcina scolded Moreau for throwing up on her carpet. Y/n let out a small chuckle, although she wasn’t amused by the current situation.

Karl glanced over at the shorter woman next to him, noticing she was looking up at him. “What?” Heisenberg chuckled. Y/n just shook her head in response, a small smile gracing her lips.

Right as Alcina was done scolding Moreau, a swarm of black blowflies came rushing through the doors, a fit of crazed giggles coming too. Just then did Y/n and Karl notice the woman being dragged behind the swarm.

Heisenberg’s face went pale, anxiety flooding his senses. The woman he had an ongoing fling with was now laying on the floor with Daniela’s sickle hooked in her leg. “Found this one wondering around in the castle.” Daniela giggled, her body fully appearing, as did Bela and Cassandra’s.

As the woman took in her surroundings, her eyes immediately fell on Karl. “Heisenberg! Help me! Please!” The woman cried.

“Celine, I-” Karl was cut off by a laugh.

Specifically Y/n’s laugh. “Oh this is just too good.” She laughed, a crazed hint in it. Y/n let out a small sigh, trying to calm down.

Y/n started walking towards the door. “Heisenberg, please. I love you.” Celine sobbed. Y/n’s steps came to a halt beside Celine’s head.

The whites of Y/n’s eyes turned black. The calming E/c completely replaced with a harsh white, a bright red brimming her pupils.

A black and red, smoke-like force danced around Y/n’s fingers. With a slight flick of Y/n’s fingers, Celine’s eyes completely dulled, sending her into an illusion.

“Ну, развлекайся со своей маленькой игрушкой, Гейзенберг.” Y/n said, venom laced in her words. She turned to look at Heisenberg dead in the eyes.

(Translation: Well, have fun with your little toy, Heisenberg.)

Celine’s cries echoed through the room. All the lords were in shock, not knowing how to react, not knowing what to say. With a small exhale from Y/n, she turned on her heel, throwing the doors to the dining hall.

When Y/n finally made it out of the castle, she started coughing. A painful stinging forming inside her chest, it felt as if her lungs were being filled with liquid. Y/n’s coughing slowly became more violent.

Y/n collapsed to her hands and knees, a thick, black substance started pouring from her mouth when she coughed. The ink-like substance dyeing the snow, even melting it in the process.

Y/n’s eyes started to slowly fade back to her normal E/c ones. Her violent coughing slowly dying down. Any breath she took came out as a struggled wheeze.

Y/n fell on her side to roll on her back. She looked up at the stars, her body adjusting to the temperature of the snow and the air around her. Y/n brought the back of her hand to her mouth, slowly wiping off the black liquid.

Y/n closely inspected the inky substance, reminding her of the fungal roots that she was all too familiar with. A faint sigh escaping Y/n’s lips, causing a burning pain to shoot through her chest, “Ah fuck.” She hissed, grasping at the soft fabric on her chest.

A faint sound of horse hooves and a carriage were heard in the distance. They started to get closer and closer, a small chuckle coming from the abnormally large man.

“Ah, Miss Azarola.” The Duke chuckled, slowly bringing his carriage to a stop, just a few feet away from the woman sprawled out in the snow.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The Duke stopped his carriage at the Azarola Castle. “Miss Azarola, we’ve arrived at your home.” He said with a caring tone.

“Thank you, Duke. How much will it be?” Y/n asked, looking through the small hand bag.

“Don’t worry about it dear, just get some rest when you get inside.” Duke smiled. Y/n’s jaw slightly dropped, shocked that she actually got something for free from him. Duke let out a small chuckle as he drove his carriage away.

Y/n turned around to look at the doors of her castle. Just as she was placing her hand on the cold handle of her door, Y/n heard a small whimper. Turning around to look towards the direction it came from, the woods.

Y/n reluctantly walked closer to the woods, that’s when she noticed the faintly growing red eyes. That’s when a huge Varcolac Alfa jumped out of the darkness and tackled her.

Y/n tried using her power, although it wouldn’t work. Tears brimmed her eyes, she was practically frozen in place, right back to where she was twenty-five years ago.

She stared up at the Alpha, it wasn’t really doing anything, just looking at Y/n. Her body shook, from both the cold and fear. The big creature leaned down and sniffed her neck. Then it slowly backed off, looking like a puppy that just got yelled at.

Slowly sitting up, Y/n sighed, looking at the Alpha, completely dumbfounded with what just happened. Tears slowly rolled down her face as she finally found the ability to breathe again.

Y/n slowly looked down at the hand-like paw of the Alpha. Noticing a metal scrap of mental lodged into the palm of it.

“I umm…I don’t know if you understand me, but I can get that out for you. Just please don’t eat me, it’ll hurt, so just stay calm.” Y/n said, her voice shaky and slightly broken from crying.

The Alpha sniffed in her direction, taking slow strides to Y/n’s side. She held out her hand for the big lycan to smell, giving it a sense of trust.

Y/n started walking back towards the doors of her castle, the Varcolac Alfa trailing being her.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n was now wrapping up the big lycan’s paw. “Hold still!” Y/n scolded, struggling to wrap the cloth around its injury.

Just as Y/n was finishing up the wrap, the castle doors flew open. The shadow of the floor clearly resembling Heisenberg. The lycan practically jumped in front of her. Growling at the man that controlled it’s kind.

Y/n jumped a little, the growling giving her flashbacks of the sight of her baby brother’s corpse. Shaking her head, trying to get the images out of her mind.

Y/n’s eyes met Karl’s. “Can I help you?” Y/n asked, annoyance evident in her voice.

“Azarola, we need to have a little chat.” Karl said, venom laced his words as he walked closer. The Alpha ready to pounce on him.

Y/n hesitated but brushed her hand along the huge lycan’s spine. “Go outside.” She whispered to the creature.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Oh but it’s okay for you to be a two timing asshole? Real nice Heisenberg.” Y/n taunted, crossing her arms to look at the man.

“Y/n, we kissed once! How does that give you any sort of authority over my love life? My god, you’re just like Miranda.” Heisenberg mumbled the last part, but clearly not quiet enough.

“I’m like Miranda? That’s really cute coming from you.” Y/n said, taking a step towards Heisenberg. Y/n was about to continue but a thick, black liquid slowly dripped from her nose.

She touched her fingers below her nostril, pulling her hand away and glancing at the liquid. Y/n quickly glanced up into Karl’s eyes. That familiar pain in her chest came back, the burning sensation even stronger than before.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

While Y/n and Heisenberg were fighting, a small BSAA squad were at the Megamycete, taking shots to it every few minutes.

This was now the second year looking into Y/n Azarola. Finally going to the village, the start of a cruel and twisted rabbit hole.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Make it stop.” Y/n struggled to get out. She was currently on the floor with Karl kneeling on her side. She had a death grip on Heisenberg’s hand. Her back slightly arching from pain.

Karl looked down at Y/n, worried, confused, and just lost. She was perfectly fine a few seconds ago, fighting with him, pissing him off, being feisty, just doing the things that drew him in. And now it seemed like she only had a few moments of life left.

“The Megamycete.” Y/n cried out. Her mouth opened as if she was about to say something else. Although, she gave into the exhaustion and slowly closed her eyes.

“Hey hey, you gotta stay awake for me.” Heisenberg said, using his left hand to cup Y/n’s face. He received no response, just silence, he was thankful she was still breathing, but it was clearly struggled.

Heisenberg gently lifted Y/n off the floor. He let out a loud whistle. Thousands of lycans started to rush towards her castle. Only some of them making it through her door.

“Go to the Megamycete, kill anything in your path and bring it back to my factory.” Karl said.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @imagine-yourself-happy @the-soldats-kitten @ktdragonborn @ella-dragneel @jellyroom2 @frietiemeloen

If you wanna be on the taglist, please let me know.

#chris redfield #karl heisenberg #lady demitrescu #mother miranda #resident evil chris x reader #resident evil karl heisenberg #resident evil village #smut #resident evil #karl heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg x reader #daddy karl heisnberg

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sunshineseung · 4 years

Text

Royalty // Lee Know

💌 Info: Stray Kids Lee Know x female!reader smut 💕 Includes: beginning fluff/plot, praise, pet names, possession, pussy worship, blowjob (receiving), fingering, unprotected sex ✏️ Word Count: ~4k

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Citizens lined the streets, cheering and chanting for their new queen. The royal carriage made its way down the road, the king and queen waving to the crowd with bright smiles.

You watched the parade from inside the small shop you worked at. Your mother, the owner, yelled at you from across the store, "get back to work!" You hazily continued to mop the wooden floor, but in your head, you’re dreaming of what could have been.

The new queen was a friend of your mother's, but after some heated arguments, they parted ways. The new queen's son, Minho, was your childhood best friend, but you had hardly spoken in recent years.

To see him waving to his people from inside the carriage as the new prince made your mind spin. The idea that you were once friends with the most coveted man in the city absolutely blew your mind. When you told people of this, they were quick to ask about the prince's childhood, with your only reply being "I don't remember much. We were both kids!"

He would seldom come into your family shop to buy necessities, but whenever he would visit, you would always catch him staring at you, eyes full of sorrow and regret. You'd wonder if he could be in the same boat as you: lonely, hoping for a friendship, even one long gone.

You didn't choose to go down different paths; it just happened. And now there you stood in your family store, sweeping away dust, wondering what could have been if you had just kept ties with the newly crowned Prince Minho.

"The nerve of her," your mother says under her breath while restocking shelves, "marrying the king after what she did. Absolutely shameless."

Minho's mother, also known as the Queen, slept with your father while your parents were married. Yes, taboo, but it's what ultimately broke friendships, both your mother's friendship with the Queen and your friendship with Minho. Deep resentment resided within your mother, but you just wanted to see Minho again.

You'd often lash out on your mother, her broken friendship being the reason for your coddling. She wouldn't let you leave as a child, fearing you would get snatched up by your father and taken away to the neighboring kingdom where he moved. After your falling out with Minho, you grew up with no friends until recently when you were hired at your mother's store.

The few people you interacted with there customers, some becoming your acquaintances after several of their visits, but none of them are truly your friends. You dreamed of leaving the town and moving to the forest, building your own house, and living a small, simple life, but you never had the courage to run away.

After the parade celebrating the new additions to the royal family, you got a letter. It was addressed specifically to you, marked with the bright red royal wax seal. Your heart dropped when you got the letter, and your mother was obviously fuming. You had to open it when she wasn't in the room.

"Dear Y/n L/n," the letter read, "It's with great honor that the royal family invites you to our celebration ball."

Your face is glowing, even through you believe every girl in the village received this letter. Upon further inquiring of your peers, you were the only one of them invited. Considering you weren't rich or well-known, you knew exactly why you were invited to the ball: Prince Minho.

The date was set and your dress was ready. Your mother allowed you to miss work, even considering what you were missing work for. You strolled up to the castle, and you realized what kind of party this was going to be.

There were girls from all across the land. They were all wearing expensive dresses, likely tailored for each girl, and they all had one thing on their mind: marrying the princes. What you had thought was an average party turned out to be a ball for Minho's suitors, which begs the question, why are you here?

Before you're able to turn around and leave, the guards close the massive front gate, actively trapping everyone inside the castle walls. The courtyard was full of large ball gowns and even larger hair making it hard to maneuver to the only thing on your mind: the food.

Most of the girls tonight are wearing corsets or bustiers, which gives you the perfect opportunity to eat as much as you want. Although your dress wasn't perfectly tailored or expensive, it made you stand out. While the party was full of women with hoop skirts and petticoats, you wore a slim, knee-high dress, which was a big no-no in the majority of the kingdom who valued modesty and conservativeness in women.

While at the table, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see a hooded figure with an indistinguishable face. They grab your wrist, but since your mouth had food in it, you couldn't scream. The hooded figure drags you around a wall to a secluded hallway leading to a guarded door.

"Trust me," says the voice. Considering how boring this party was, you blindly trust the voice and follow them to the door. They nod to the guards, and the guards nod back, opening the doors.

The doors reveal a small, enclosed garden with a koi pond and a white gazebo. They takes your hand and guide you to a marble bench next to the pond. While you're looking at the fish, the figures takes their hood off. Your heart stops beating when you see a pair of familiar brown eyes looking at you.

"Hey, Y/n. It's been awhile, hasn't it?" His voice is low, almost a whisper. Your focus darts from the pond to the prince. You're totally speechless, but he giggles at your flustered reaction. "I know this isn't what you were expecting tonight, but I honestly do miss you. I just wanted to see you again."

His smile is warm enough to melt your heart, and his kind eyes loll you into a sense of comfort.

"I wanted to see you again as well, Min- I mean, your highness." You laugh at yourself, hoping Minho didn't catch your slip up. He laughs as well, but he doesn't mind your slip up.

"I can still hear the music from the courtyard." Minho looks up into the sky, the lightest sounds from the band making their way into the secret garden. He stands up and holds his hand out, hoping for you to get the hint. "May I have this dance?"

You take his hand, and he whisks you away into the gazebo. Your hands gently find their way onto his shoulders and his neck, and he grips your waist ever so lightly. You smile at each other, the both of you fully aware of the absurdness of the situation.

"You know, I don't want to be prince." Minho's face dips in mood, the twinkle in his eyes fading away in an instant. "I just want to be a townsperson with y-"

"Minho," you cut him off, "You're going to be the best prince this town has ever seen. And whenever you don't feel like being the prince, I'll always be in the store awaiting your visit."

"Oh, so now you're okay with calling me Minho?" He chuckles, and your cheeks begin to burn red. "I should have come talked to you sooner."

"Just be glad we're here now."

You continue to gently dance with the boy, feet getting tangled together every so often. His pace is calming, and your bodies are perfectly in sync with the music from the band.

"Y/n, they're making me get married." His facial expression dips again. You can tell from his eyes darting downward that he's full of overwhelming thoughts. You cup his cheek in your hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. "I'm so scared."

"If you don't want to get married, you need to tell your parents that." Your advice is harsh, but you're truly trying your best. You two have stopped moving, totally ignoring the music.

"I have. They don't listen. They're making me marry a princess from another kingdom. I... I shouldn't be telling you this." His eyes go cold, the usual confident Minho returning for a moment. "We could get in trouble for being here."

"I'm willing to get in trouble if it means you have someone to talk to, Minho." Your eyes stare deeply into his. Silence washes over you two, both from the lack of conversation and the halting of the band. Without realizing it, your bodies are drawn closer together, faces inches apart.

"I know we just met again after years, but I want to spend my life with you, Y/n. I don't want to be here." His voice is low again, this time sending shivers down your spine from how physically close he is to you. "Let's run away."

"Are you crazy?" You retort, shaking your head. "There's nothing I want more than to run away, but your idea will get us both killed."

"I need you." His words are desperate, and your heart aches for him. To see your childhood friend in such pain breaks your heart.

However, his eyes dip down to your lips, and his expression goes from cold and emotional to dark and lustful. Seeing his face change so drastically makes your heart beat out of your chest. Suddenly, your nerves are on edge, and you feel his hot breath against your skin.

"May I... babe?" His soft words hit you off guard, and you look up to him with agape lips. You slowly nod your head, and your sign of consent is enough for him to bring you into a long kiss. It doesn't take much time for his tongue to slip into your mouth, your tongues exploring each other.

It wasn't until this moment that you realize how unbearably hot he is. His tight pants and buttoned shirt fit him perfectly, and the dark, velvety blue compliments his skin nicely. His face is that of a god, and his hair is soft to the touch. He's such a great sight to take in.

He pulls away, your spit creating a rope between each other's lips. You take a moment to catch your breath, and you make eye contact with Minho.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" He holds his hand out as he did to offer you a dance, but this time his expression wasn't nearly as sweet.

"As you wish, your highness." You curtsy to him jokingly, your tight dress riding up as you bent over to bow. You both chuckle at your remark, but Minho harshly bites his lip hearing you call him your highness in a lower tone than before. You take his hand, and once again, you're wicked away into unknown territory.

Minho takes you through a side door in the walled garden, and the door leads to a hallway within the castle. The halls are empty since all of the guards are at the party, so the two of you easily make your way to what you assume to be Minho's room. There's very few possessions in his room, and it hardly looks lived in aside from the disheveled bedsheets. You don't have much time to look around though, as Minho lightly pushes you onto the bed, looking down at you. Your legs spread without you thinking, and you suddenly feel shyness wash over you.

Minho, in an attempt to calm your obvious nerves, leans over and kisses you. The kiss is passionate, and you love the feeling of his hand roaming around your body. His hands circle your tits, but never go up to meet your nipples. His hand are caring, and his kiss is soft. Your worried melt away, and when your lips part from his, you're met with a smirking, horny prince positioned between your legs.

"You're going to be my princess tonight, baby. All mine." His gaze is dark, and you can't help but moan at his words. He gets down on his knees and pulls you towards his face at the edge of the bed. His grip on your thighs is tight, and he moves your dress up just enough to reveal your panties. "Dripping already, are we?" His index finger grazes your hole over your panties, forcing another moan out of you. The Minho eye-level with your cunt was completely different from the Minho you'd just kissed seconds earlier, but you liked it.

"I-I'm sorry, I couldn't help it." You didn't realize how wet you were until you felt your sopping panties press against you from Minho's finger. He blows against your clothed pussy, making you wince from the sudden stimulation. He laughs at your shocked reaction, and you feel your body heat up with embarrassment.

Minho hooks his finger around your panties and pull them down your legs, exposing your sensitive slit. "Fuck, your cunt is so beautiful." He eyes your heat, licking his lips at the sight of it. You rotate your hips, signaling him to touch you, but he just massages your thighs by making light circles with his thumbs. "You look delicious, princess."

His tongue makes a stripe up your pussy, making you jolt from the pleasure. Minho is taking his time with you, teasing you and sucking your skin. He's sure to lick up all of your juices, humming in response to your sweet taste. You're attempting to hold back moans, but as his tongue violates your cunt and your orgasm grows closer, high-pitched sounds escape your throat.

"I love your pussy so much." Minho is not shy to praising you, and you mewl after his every word. His fingers tease your entrance, threatening to enter you at any moment. You push yourself against his hand, and your pussy is clenching around nothing. You're so needy for him.

Per your silent but evident request, Minho gently pushes his middle finger inside your cunt, and he feels your walls tighten around his single digit. You move your hips in sync with his hand, and when he bends his finger upwards, he perfectly graces or g-spot, making you moan his name aloud.

"You feel so good, Minho." You look down at him, and his mouth is covered in your essence. The sight is enough to make you bite down on your lip almost hard enough to draw blood. He looks so hot under you, and the pleasure from his finger inside you and his tongue on your clit is enough to send you over the edge. "I'm so close."

Minho inserts a second finger into you, and his hand starts thrusting into you at a faster pace than before. His fingers scissor open and closed, and before you know it, you're cumming on his fingers, having one of the most intense orgasms you've ever had.

Through your orgasm, Minho continues to finger your and suck on your clit, and when you're done, he sucks every last drop of you off of his fingers. Your legs are shaking while he plants light kisses against your inner thighs.

"You did great, princess." Minho sits up and hovers over you, leaning down to bring you into a kiss. The taste of yourself against his lips makes you wet all over again, and you're needy for even more of the prince.

Minho motions for you to sit up, and you gladly follow his orders and flip your dress over your head, exposing your entire form to him. His jaw goes slack at the sight of your body, and he makes sure you know he loves every inch.

"My beautiful princess," he says as he traces his hands on your sides, outlining your figure. His cold hands send chills down your spine, but his praise makes it all okay. You know you can trust him.

"I think it's your turn, my prince." Hearing you call him prince makes his heart flutter, and that only makes his member harder. Your hands make their way to Minho's chest to unbutton his shirt all the way, revealing his abs. You run your finger down his chest and abs to the hem of his pants, and he hisses from your touch.

Minho smoothly pushes you back onto the bed, your head coming in contact with his pillows. He stands up off of the side of the bed and pulls down his tight pants, putting on a show for you. The bulge is his underwear is evident, and you see a wet mark from his precum. He pulls his boxers down, his erect member hitting against his abs. You close your legs together in an attempt to satisfy the slightest bit of need from your dripping pussy, but Minho is quick to position himself over you and pull your legs apart by your knees.

"Ready, babe?" He runs his tip through your folds, getting your wetness to coat the head of his cock. You nod eagerly, already biting your lip. His tip hooks on your clit, and you buck your hips up at him.

"Please fuck me, Minho. I need your cock so bad." The words flow out of your mouth as if you're used to being a sex toy for the prince. Minho grips your hips tightly as he pushes his member into you, stretching you out and filling you up completely. You let out the most pornographic moan, and a deep groan leaves his lips. He feels your tight cunt convulsing around him which only makes him want to drive into you more.

He throws your leg over his shoulder giving him the chance to pound into you even deeper. Sweat beats roll down his face from his forehead as he rolls his hips in sync with yours. His cock rams into your g-spot every time, causing slick sounds from your cunt to fill the room along with your shared moans.

"Princess," Minho coos to you, "you're so damn gorgeous." He cups your cheek and kisses you passionately, still rutting his cock into you. The intoxicating taste of Minho's spit mixed with the overwhelming feeling of his cock brings you up to your second orgasm. "You wanna cum on my cock, baby?"

Your nods are desperate, and the only sound able to leave your mouth are choked moans and pleads. Minho pounds into you even harder than before trying to coax your orgasm out of you. Your eyes roll back in your head as you tighten around him and coat his member in your cum. The string of expletives and moans that come out of your mouth give Minho all the boost he needs to thrust once more into you and cum, coating your insides with his semen.

"Fuck, Minho," you draw out, "I love your cum inside me." With one finger, Minho plays with your clit as he pulls out of you, releasing a loud grunt once his cock is fully out of you.

"You did so good, babygirl." Minho rests his body next to you and pulls you into him. "I don't want this to be the last time I see you."

"It won't be the last time you see me, don't worry." You rest your head on his chest and take in the scent of sweat and sex in the room. You catch your breath with his, chests rising and sinking in unison. It doesn't take long for a disturbing knock to scare both of you.

"Sir Minho, you've been requested in the courtyard by your mother." A guard stands outside, assuming Minho is alone in his room. "Your bride is awaiting your arrival."

"I'll be out in a minute!" Minho yells out to the guard. The footsteps outside of the room grow farther away, and Minho sits up at the edge of the bed and puts his head in his hands. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Minho. This isn't your fault." You sit next to him and pet his back in an attempt to calm him. "Let's get dressed, shall we?"

You take his hand and lead him to the pile of discarded clothes. You slip your dress back on, and Minho solemnly slides his old clothes back on before heading towards the door.

You smile at him as you two exit his room, the cool air from the damp hallway nipping at your legs. You cling onto Minho's arm, unaware of the layout of the castle.

"Go through this side door. I'll meet you in the courtyard." Minho gestures towards a small, wooden door.

"What about your bride?"

"Don't worry about her. I'll deal with it." Minho looks off to the end of the hall, unable to make eye contact with you. "I'll write you letters."

You give him a light kiss on the cheek as a goodbye and make your way to the door. Minho clenched his fists as he makes his way to the main gate.

You sneak your way through corridors into the courtyard again. The king and queen are on the top of the stairway in front of the main gate into the castle. They seem so happy for parents who forced their child into an arranged marriage.

"Now, we're proud to reveal, prince Lee Minho!" The gates swing open to reveal Minho, hair disheveled and pants on crooked. His shirt is wrinkled and partially buttoned. Despite his appearance, the girls in the crowd scream for him, and you sit back and watch.

Minho joins the partygoers, and you hardly see him through the groups of girls surrounding him. As the party goes on late into the night, you're about to leave, but Minho catches you heading towards the gate and yells to you.

"Goodbye, princess!" Minho yells over the adoring group of women around him, and they all gasp and turn around to you. You blush and run to the door before anyone can ask you questions about why the prince just called you his princess.

Days pass. You receive several letters from Minho, all with the royal wax seal. You hide them from your mother, partially because of the obvious red seal, and partially because of the contents of the letters.

Although some letters were romantic, other letters described in great detail what Minho wanted to do to your body when you two were alone again.

And when the sun sets and the moon rises, I hope to find your body under mind, shaking in my presence, heat wet with arousal. Your moans will sound like a symphony to me. My body is longing for yours, princess. To feel your lips against mine would be enough for my aching member and even more aching heart. Tuesday at 8. I'll be at your window, my love.

Sure enough, Tuesday at 8, he was waiting for you.

Who knew the prince would be so rebellious.

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#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fan fiction #skz fanfic #skz fan fiction #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #kpop fan fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop #skz minho #stray kids minho #skz lee know #stray kids lee know #skz minho smut

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yetanotherhoeforpedro · 3 years

Text

Sinfully Armored

Chapter 3 - What happens on Kashyyyk…

Chapter 2

A dull bump ended your slumber abruptly. You scrambled out of your cot and reached for your lightsaber out of reflex, though it was highly questionable as to how your weapon could help your ship. Another impact hit you and almost threw you to the ground, but you quickly steadied yourself and headed for the cockpit.

“Shit,” you exclaimed as you stared out of the cockpit and looked upon an asteroid field. R2 was already doing his best, steering you clear of the worst. Not daring to waste another second, you climbed into the pilot’s seat. The Force is with you, it will guide you, you tried to reassure yourself. Another hit. You cussed. While you were a decent pilot, you never had to maneuver through an asteroid field as tight as this one. You took a deep breath. “Let’s do this, R2,” you said with the bravado you had left and began to steer the ship deeper into the floating rocks.

The door to the cockpit slid open and while you didn’t dare to avert your attention from your task, you didn’t have to turn around to know it was the Mandalorian. “A bit more to the right,” a modulated voice commanded you. “I know what I am doing,” you gritted through your teeth, just as you felt a small impact from the left. For some reason, he didn’t rub it in, instead, he simply sat down into the copilot’s seat and looked ahead. “Down,” he warned you and this time, you listened to him, barely avoiding another hit.

It went on like that for the next minutes until you were clear again. You were about to say something to him, perhaps words of praise, but your mysterious passenger simply got up and left. You shrugged and decided to get a little more rest as it was still quite early and you were a Jedi, not a droid.

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When you awoke the next time, it was to a deep voice. “We’re there, Jedi,” it said and your eyes fluttered open. “Morning, Chatterbox,” you yawned, not thinking too much about your words. “Huh, Chatterbox. I like that nickname. It fits you perfectly,” you added and gave him a sleepy smile. He looked down at you, apparently not as pleased by the nickname. “Just give me a second,” you sighed and he left you alone, thank the Maker. You rose slowly, went to the fresher and gathered some supplies in your backpack afterwards. Apparently, you would have to eat breakfast on the go.

He was already waiting at the hangar with Grogu strapped to his chest in a pouch and R2 next to him. Why did he always have to look like a statue? He seriously needed to get this stick out of his butt. Without acknowledging him any further, you headed for the droid. “Morning, Artoo. What have you got for us?” R2 beeped and produced a map of the planet’s surface, you were on Kashyyyk. The map showed the path to a hut high up in the characteristic trees of the planet. Afterwards, he displayed the youngling and her name. A little Wookie, barely 20, which was young by the standard of the species. R2-D2 closed the image again.

“Thanks, Artoo.” You patted his head and turned to leave. Artoo beeped offendedly. “Oh, come on. You know we need you to stay on the ship. I’ll contact you if things go awry,” you promised and he ceased his protests.

Stepping out of your ship’s hangar, you took a moment to appreciate the stunning setting. Kashyyyk was one of the most idyllic planets in the galaxy and as you had visited it on a diplomatic mission with Luke and Chewie once, you came to fall in love with its enormous Wroshyr trees, tropical beaches and scenic mountains. You did have an unpleasant encounter with some Wyyyschokk spiders on that trip, but shit happens.

You focused back on reality and noticed the Mandalorian was staring at you. Avoiding his eyes, you opened the map and took a few steps towards the edge of the clearing your ship landed on. You turned around to your strange companion. “Are you coming or what?” Instead of replying, he just followed you, Grogu safely confided in his makeshift bag. The view was quite precious, you had to admit.

You spent the next few hours hiking through the forest mostly in silence, the only conversation prompts originating from you. You had no idea why you were still trying with him. At least Grogu seemed animated, marveling at the rich greens of the forest and trying to snatch some bugs from the trees around him.

At one point, you decided to sit down for a moment. The Mandalorian set Grogu free and he immediately waddled to one of those toxic Wyyyschokk spiders you were mildly traumatized by. You reached out with the Force to move it out of his grasp. Grogu shot you an offended look and tried to implement his own Force to pull it closer to him. “Grogu, no!” You sighed in exasperation. He didn’t comply. The Mandalorian was silently watching your exchange, as per usual. Grogu picked the spider up while staring at you innocently. “Put it away.” He halted his movement. “Good. Now let it go,” you said firmly. He hesitated. “It’s toxic, Grogu.”

The Mandalorian sprung to his feet and whipped his head towards you. “What? You let him near a toxic spider?!” You rolled your eyes. “Relax, Chatterbox.” But he was having none of that. Before Grogu could come to a decision, a blaster shot went off and the dead spider fell from his hands. “You idiot!” you yelled at him. “Now all of Kashyyyk knows we’re here!” He shrugged and settled back down. “Our rest is over,” you proclaimed, picked the little one up and put him into your backpack carefully before and slinging it over your shoulders. Not waiting for your companion – you knew he would follow if you carried the child, you continued making your way through the forest.

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

The sun was at its highest as you finally arrived at the beach. A couple of small Wookies who had been playing in the water stopped dead as they spotted you. You raised your arms and carefully took a step towards them. In the little words you knew of their language, you explained to them that you had come in peace. They seemed to relax slightly, though they still shot wary glances at the warrior behind you.

You asked them whether another stranger had come to their village recently and they exchanged looks that told you they had no idea what you were saying, so you inquired where their guardians were instead. They pointed to a hut in the trees and you quickly thanked them before turning back to your companion.

“We have to get to the hut up there.” You gave a sharp nod up to the tree, squinting against the blinding sun. The Mandalorian simply nodded and pulled you to his chest without an explanation. You had to crook your neck to look at him and before you could question his behavior, he embraced you even tighter and took off. Suddenly in the air, you held on to him just as closely, too shocked to react in any other way. Before you knew it, you felt the ground underneath your feet again. For a moment, neither one of you moved, both of you clinging to the other like your lives depended on it. Well, yours did a moment ago.

Once you regained your wits, you quickly tried to move out of his grip and he loosened it slightly. You broke free, took a step back and shot him a furious glare. “Don’t ever do that again,” you spat while angrily jabbing your index finger into his beskared chest. He didn’t respond, only moved his visor down to you in a deliberate movement. You held his stare, hoping he saw the boiling rage in your eyes.

The tension was snapped by a growl behind you. You spun around, facing a gigantic Wookie with slightly greying hair. “I am sorry,” you said in their language, quickly recovering from the shock. “I did not mean to disturb you. I am a Jedi.” You pointed to your lightsaber. “One of your children is in danger,” you added, trying to give at least a rough explanation for your sudden appearance. At least you hoped that’s what you said, your use of their language was pretty rusty. The Wookie hesitated to respond, their eyes wandering from the silent warrior to you and back. “He is no danger to you,” you tried to calm the Wookie. At last, they signaled you to follow them inside and you gladly obeyed. However, they kept the Mandalorian from entering and you gave him a half-hearted apologetic shrug.

Once inside, the Wookie guided you to a high table where a few other grown ones were already seated. You swiftly climbed up to the bench on the opposite side and took a seat, pulling your backpack with Grogu onto your lap. The Wookie briefly repeated what you told them and the others looked at you expectantly. In broken language, you tried to explain to them that a sort of Imperial bounty hunter – at that point you are glad the Mandalorian wasn’t allowed to enter because you had to explain that word rather embarrassingly in wild gestures – was trying to steal one of their children. You produced the image of the young one from your device and for once wished Threepio were with you as an incomprehensible discussion broke out between the Wookies.

After a while, one of them turned back to you. “What do you want here?” he asked you. “Are you here to steal her away as well?” This question threw you off guard a little. “Wha- no. I am here to protect her from the Empire,” you replied tensely. The Wookies exchanged wary glances and you couldn’t really blame them.

“We will not harm your child; we will only stay until the threat from the Empire is eliminated. The young one can decide whether she wants to become a Jedi later on,” a modulated voice interfered in perfect Shyriiwook. You turn your head to see the Mandalorian entering the hut. “So to get you to talk to me, I need to speak Wookie?” you teased him, but he ignored you, staring straight at the assembled Wookies. “What’s it to you, bounty hunter?” another Wookie asked him. While you sucked at speaking their language, you had come to understand it pretty well from all the time spent with Chewie, Han, Luke and Leia. “I am here because of my child.” He pointed to Grogu and the Wookies seemed to be even more confused. They began to chatter loudly once more.

“You can stay here, but we are watching you”, the first Wookie finally told you. “If there is truly an Imperial spy trying to steal our child, we will not be foolish and turn down your help. I will lead you to your hut.” You got up and bowed slightly. “Thank you. You will not regret it.”

Your hut was strategically placed with a view of the child’s hut. You wandered around the main room, taking in the exquisitely carved wood furniture and running your hand over it to fully appreciate the skilled carvings. “How do you know their language so well?” you queried with your back turned to the Mandalorian. He remained silent for so long that it surprised you when he did reply. “I - I have come around in the galaxy and if I learned one thing, it’s the more languages you know, the higher your chances of survival are.” At that, you faced him and crooked an eyebrow. “Didn’t assume you had to worry about surviving too much, what with the shiny armor and everything.” – “You’d be surprised,” was all he said in response.

“Well…thank you for saving my ass back there,” you attempted to lighten the mood. “I didn’t do it for you,” he retorted immediately. You scoffed. “Why is it that every time I try to show you a little kindness or gratitude, you push me away? Are you afraid that you’ll actually come to like me or what?” you confronted him, not willing to let it go this time. “I…I’ll look for some…some food for Grogu,” he said and went around you to pick the little one up from the bed you had placed him on earlier. “What are you running from?” you mumbled softly as he passed you again to leave the hut. He halted in his tracks and turned his head to you for a moment, as if he was contemplating something. Instead, he jerked his head back to the front and took off with Grogu in his arms.

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It was late when he returned, the sun was almost setting. He was a fool. A fool who was not used to spending this much time with another human being, much less one who managed to get under his armor like you did. He didn’t know what it was about you that had this effect on him, but he had been trying to avoid you at all cost ever since he first met you. He knew then you’d be trouble for him, crouching in front of him with your laser sword drawn out, ready to attack. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been turned on by it. And that was exactly why he had to keep his distance.

Still, the sight of the empty hut sent a pang of disappointment through him, but what did he expect? That you’d be waiting for him all day, just sitting on your ass? It was a blessing really, that you were not here right now. The Maker knows what he would have said to you otherwise. Would he have apologized? Admitted that you were driving him crazy? Pushed you away again? He let out a heavy sigh and set Grogu down on the bed again. He was in some deep shit and for the first time in his life, he had no idea how to get out of it.

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“Stop that!” you ordered, trying to fill your voice with the little authority you had left, but it came out amused above all. The Wookie youngling kept reaching out for your lightsaber with the Force, but you held it back. You sighed while suppressing your smile. How did you end up with two younglings to train when you weren’t even interested in instructing one?

“She likes you,” the mother of the force-sensitive child said and you looked up at her in wonder. “You think so? Right now, it seems like she’s trying to get on my nerves.” You gave her a small grin and she responded with a genuine smile.

Your wholesome exchange was interrupted by the sudden entrance of another Wookie. “Dinner is ready,” he said while eyeing you with suspicion. Understandably, most of the Wookies had not been too thrilled by your arrival. “Alright,” the female Wookie responded and turned to you: “Would you like to join us?” – “I don’t want to intrude,” you replied with a shrug. “You are not intruding. Come along.” Her tone left no room for discussion, so you followed her over the wooden planks connecting the trees after she picked up her child.

Dinner was a festive occasion, there was a variety of mouth-watering food spread out across a huge table in the main treehouse. As you took in the feast, you noticed how hungry you truly were. You let the Wookies go to the buffet first so you wouldn’t eat up their food and picked out a few delicious snacks afterwards. You took a seat next to the mother of the youngling and she tried to include you in the conversation as well as she could. You got to know the Wookies a little better and they seemed to warm to you a bit more. During the discussion, you managed to form a battle plan in case of an attack with them.

As dinner went on, you couldn’t help but wonder where your companion was. Had he even returned yet? Was he in danger? Was Grogu alright? For some reason, you couldn’t stop yourself from caring about this strange man who had been nothing but rude to you so far. Your focus kept slipping from the conversation until you excused yourself as politely as you could and went back to your hut.

The sight that greeted you was not what you expected. The Mandalorian lay, still fully armored, in the bed with Grogu next to him. He seemed to be asleep. A wave of pity overcame you. What a life he must lead, always separated from the rest of the world by a thick layer of beskar. Never allowing himself to be vulnerable in any way. He didn’t even seem to care about his own discomfort, sleeping in an awkward angle so that Grogu could rest as comfortably as possible. He probably hadn’t even eaten himself all day and had only fed the little one.

Before you knew what you were doing, you went back to the main hut. There were still plenty of leftovers on the table, so you picked up as many different delicacies as you could carry in your arms and went back to the sleeping warrior. You carefully placed the edible goods on a side table and went outside to take the first watch.

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

Mando jolted up when he awoke. Shit, he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, how long had he been out? He stretched a bit, as much as his beskar armor allowed, and got up, trying not to disturb the child. There was a bunch of food on the side table, he noticed with a grumbling stomach. He could think of only one person who could have put it there and he felt an overwhelming wave of affection at the sweet gesture. How had you even known that he hadn’t eaten yet?

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

The huts had been silent for the majority of the night, so the soft crunching sound alerted you immediately. You listened more intently and realized that it originated from inside of your hut. As you figured out what the sound must be, a soft smile formed on your lips. He was really feasting in there, your suspicions about his eating habits must have been correct. You continued your vigilance, satisfied that he had accepted your gesture.

After a while, you heard him approach. For a moment, neither of you said anything. To your surprise, it was him who broke the silence this time. “I…thank you.” You didn’t quite know how to respond to his sudden kindness, so you simply nodded, even though your back was turned to him. “How – how long have you been out here?” he continued. You looked up at the stars. “Probably a few hours.” – “I’m sorry I fell asleep, I – you should have woken me up so you could get some rest as well.” He took a step closer to you and you could sense the coldness his beskar radiated, sending shivers through you.

“Why do you wear that helmet all the time?” The question was out before you could stop it, his proximity completely disheveling your thoughts. You felt him still behind you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t –,“ you began, but he interrupted you. “It’s the Way of the Mandalore,” he disclosed and you slowly turned around to face him. “But it seems awfully restricting,” you blurted out, once again not considering your words. He met your glance and cocked his head to the side. “It is not a restriction; it is an honor to live by our codex.” His words were not filled with much conviction and sounded recited above all.

“How did you become a Mandalorian?” you pressed on; curiosity having gotten the better of you. “You sure ask a lot of questions today,” he responded coldly. “I would have asked earlier, but I knew you wouldn’t have answered any of them,” you admitted bluntly and earned a small chuckle from him. “I suppose that’s true,” he answered thoughtfully after a while and his helmet turned away from you. You raised an eyebrow at his honest reply. “Why are you talking to me now?” you inquired, not caring anymore that you were clearly overstepping the line.

“I’m not sure,” he breathed out quietly after a moment of silence. “Well, whatever reason, I’m…glad you are.” His gaze turned back down to you and you showed him a friendly smile. His visor shifted into the distance again abruptly and you silently cursed yourself. Had you been too offensive? You shouldn’t have made yourself that vulnerable.

“Our guests have arrived, Jedi,” he noted, sounding mildly displeased and as you followed his glance, your eyes widened. All of your banal previous thoughts vanished as you took in the four Imperial ships that were descending to the surface of Kashyyyk. “We have to get to – ,“ you inducted, but he was one step ahead of you. Grabbing you by the waist, the Mandalorian took off into the air and landed swiftly in front of the small Wookie’s home. “I told you to stop doing that,” you snapped at him, but without much force as you could still feel his firm grip on your waist. As he loosened it, you regained your focus and remembered your mission. You quickly turned your back to him and knocked on the wooden door.

The Wookie mother answered and her sleepy eyes snapped open widely as she took the both of you in. “They’re here,” you informed her gravely and she let out a roar to alert the rest of the villagers. They quickly rose and took their positions, some as snipers high up in the treetops and some ready to defend the huts in direct combat. All of them were hidden from plain sight and you could only spot them because of your training – and because you knew they were there.

In the meantime, the Imperial ships had landed on the beach. You stared at them intently, hoping to make anything out from the distance. The hangars of the ships opened in unison and you heard the Mandalorian take in a sharp breath. Out of each ship stepped rows upon rows of droids in mechanical movements. There were only two people among them, one of them a man from the meeting you witnessed earlier and the other a (insert species). You were surprised at the open display of their forces; you had thought this would rather be an incognito mission than an open battle. Did they know you were ready to fight? Were they just not taking chances? Either way, this was going to be a lot harder than you anticipated.

Someone called your name and ripped you out of your spiraling thoughts. You were even more amazed to realize that it had been your companion. He had never addressed you with your real name before. “We have to get to Grogu,” he breathed out, the worry audible in his voice. “Shit, you’re right,” you responded in horror. He was about to fly over again, but you held him back. “Wait. You can’t move, they’ll notice you and know we have something to hide. It has to be me,” you reasoned. He seemed reluctant. “Do you trust me?” you asked him, looking where you believed his eyes to be. When he didn’t react, you scoffed. “Seriously, Mando? Good to know.” Without another word, you left for Grogu. What was the deal with the Mandalorian? Why was he being kind to you one moment and cold as ice in the next?

You swiftly moved across the trees, careful to not make any noise. As you looked down, you saw the droids beginning to scramble up the barks of the trees to reach the huts. You whistled, almost having forgotten about the sign you were supposed to give and blastershots went off quickly.

Very few droids fell, the rest of them continued to ascend, seemingly not even taking notice of the attack. They were more resilient than you thought. You needed to get to your apprentice quickly, so you began to move with less caution.

You were only two huts away from Grogu when the world went white with an ear-splitting bang. The next thing you felt was your back hitting the bark of a tree and then the ground, your ears still ringing from the detonation. “Fuck!” you exclaimed, trying to get up and failing miserably. Your entire body was aching. This was not the time to be hurting, you needed to fight. You took a few deep breaths and slowly rose, testing your limbs. There didn’t seem to be any serious fractures, much to your relief.

You needed to get to Grogu immediately. Looking up at the tree, you saw a droid already halfway up. Fuck. You really had to hurry. As you took a step towards the tree, you doubled over in agony, spitting a patch of blood onto the ground. Okay, maybe you did have a few broken ribs. You straightened yourself and took another step, wincing at the stabbing pain in your side but moving forward nonetheless. If you could only get to that tree…

You yelled out in pain and surprise as your muscles quivered with electricity and you went down again. You quickly scrambled around and looked at your attacker. It was one of the droids, wielding an electrostaff. You clutched your lightsaber just in time to deflect the next blow. You rolled aside as the droid took another swing, ignoring your aching side and scrambling to your feet.

The droid didn’t hesitate to strike again, but this time, you were prepared. Even in your injured state, it was no match for you. After circling it for a few moments in a defensive crouch, you picked out a weak spot and drove your blade home, separating it in the middle. Not taking any chances, you hacked its remains apart.

You let out a heavy sigh of relief and grimaced in pain as your lungs expanded against your fractured ribcage. Grogu, you thought in horror and spun to face the tree again. The droid that had climbed it before was nowhere to be seen, which was not a good sign at all. You considered the height you would have to pass to get to the hut. It was too far for a Force jump; you really would have to climb. Not wasting another precious moment, you dug your fingers into the bark and pulled yourself up.

You were only halfway up when your strength faltered and you slid down the entirety of the bark you had only just climbed. You yelled out in frustration. The battle in the trees was slowly subsiding, you noticed and you took your last chance. With all the muscle power you had left in your legs, you bolted for the ships on the beach while cutting down a few simpler droids in your path.

As you got closer, you saw that the first ship was already taking off. Had they been defeated or did they get what they came for? You enhanced your speed as much as possible, but it was all in vain. You arrived at the beach soon enough to see the Imperial scum entering his ship with Grogu, but too late to stop his escape. All you could do was watch as he took off into the sky as well.

You sunk down onto your knees, not having it in you to react in any way or form. You had failed everyone. Luke, who provided you with a home and a purpose even after you had given up on yourself; Grogu, who trusted you to be a good Jedi Master to him; Yoda, who had saved you from certain doom all those years ago; your parents, who had given their lives for yours and Mando, who had trusted you with his child. Possibly you had even failed the Wookies in your quest to protect the youngling. You were absolutely worthless. A complete waste of life and resources. What was being one of the most powerful warriors in the galaxy worth if you couldn’t even protect those dear to you? You slumped down into the sand, embracing the stabbing pain in your rib as it made contact with the uneven, hard ground. It wasn’t enough to suppress the guilt and the self-hatred you felt though. Not even close.

In the back of your mind, you heard the other ships departing, but you were beyond the physical realm now. You couldn’t help getting sucked into the cruel depths of your mind, almost welcoming the voices that screamed at you in fury and reminded you of everything that was wrong with you.

Somehow, you felt your physical form vibrating, but it took you a few moments to return to it and notice the Mandalorian that was violently shaking your shoulders. You blinked up at him in confusion. “Where is he?” he demanded, over and over again. “Gone,” you responded, though your voice seemed to come from afar. “How could you let them take him? I trusted you to protect him!” His voice was so full of hate that your mind focused back on him. You didn’t answer this time, only stared at him intently and let him interpret it any way he would. It was good that he despised you now, you deserved nothing less.

Whatever he saw in your eyes, he didn’t say anything else. He simply let his grip on your shoulders go, resulting in you crashing back into your damaged ribs. Your lips drew blood from how hard you had to bite down to suppress your wince of pain. The last thing you wanted right now was for him to pity you and regret his harsh words.

As you dropped back down and the adrenaline from the fight began to leave your bloodstream, the pain worsened and you felt weariness overcome you. Your desperate attempts to stay conscious were completely futile and you realized you were slowly slipping away from reality. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled as everything went black.

Chapter 4

Masterlist

#din dijarin x reader #dindjarjn #the mandalorian #the mandalorian/reader #star wars #fanfic #enemies to lovers

19 notes · View notes

zeni-chu · 4 years

Text

Warmth

Zenitsu Agatsuma x Reader

A/N: this is entirely self-indulgent 😂 I love him so much and I get cold rly easily myself so I couldn’t help myself 😌

Pairing: Zenitsu Agatsuma x Reader

Warnings: None rly!

Words: 1900

The blizzard winds howled as the sky powdered the earth with little white flakes of frost, chilling you to the bone. Your hands tightly gripped your arms as you cross them over your shivering frame, trying to hold in whatever body heat you had left. Walking beside you was your comrade and best friend Zenitsu, the two of you had been sent on a mission to a village high in the mountains. His teeth chattered as he too wrapped his arms around himself to keep himself warm however he could. The coats the two of you had brought gave you a bit of warmth but did little to block out the piercing cold of the icy storm. You were always one to get cold easily, so the situation you had found yourself in was hell, seeing as you were absolutely positive there was going to be no way you’d be able to get any sort of warmth on this journey.

“Th-this sucks! We’re going to freeze to death out here!” He whined, a panicked undertone to his words. You half agreed internally, yet kept your thought to yourself as you attempted to respond in a way that would calm his worries, “I think we should find shelter and wait out the blizzard!” Having to raise your voice to be heard above the storm, your throat stung from the cold air you were sure was in the negative temperatures. You received only an eager nod in response, turning your gaze to scan the area around you for any semblance of a shelter. Your eyes landed on what looked to be a sort of cave in the side of the mountain you were ascending, pointing towards it with hope, “There! Come on Zenitsu let’s hurry!” You grabbed his hand to tug him towards the cave causing him to blink in surprise and pushed down the pink that dusted his cheeks to focus on following you.

Shuffling hurriedly through the deep snow, the two of you stepped through the mouth of the cave, pushing forward to the back wall to put distance between you and the blizzard. Your breath puffed in clouds but the lack of strong winds and falling snow was a welcome change.

After catching your breath you decided to build a fire using the sticks you had packed in your bag. “You brought firewood with you?” Zenitsu broke the silence with a curious tone.

“Well, yea. I knew we wouldn’t make it to the village in one day, and it’s on a snowy mountain,” you stated in a matter-of-fact way, “I decided to play it safe and bring some stuff with me in case anything were to happen. And lo-and-behold!” Ending with a slight smile, you struck sparks onto the patch of kindling, gently blowing on the small flames to help them grow. Placing the kindling under the firewood and making sure they stayed lit, you sat back with crossed legs and moved your bag to the side to give yourself room, all the while honey-colored eyes watched your every move subconsciously. As you shivered and warmed your hands against the flame you felt his gaze and looked up to match it, casting him a smile that warmed his cheeks. He looked away bashfully as he too and held up his hands to the fire, not a sound between the two of you other than the howling winds and crackling firewood. The silence between the two demon slayers left Zenitsu to his thoughts, all of which seemed to wander to (Y/N). The way your contagious smile could brighten his mood to matter what, the way your angelic laugh made his heart squeeze, the way you never ran out of patience for the boy and his antics, the way kindness seemed to drip from your very being; everything about you was absolutely infatuating to him.

“Zenitsu?” The boy was dragged out of his thoughts by your call, concern lacing your tone.

“Y-yes?”

A soft sigh made its way past your lips, which curved upwards in a gentle manner, never once losing your seemingly endless patience. “I said I’m going to try to get some rest, silly. Are you okay?” (Y/N) leaned forward and put the back on their hand on their partner’s forehead, “You feel a bit warm, did you catch a cold?”

The blonde-haired boy gasped and quickly leaned backwards, his blush deepening to a cherry-red and his hands shooting up to frantically wave off your concern, “N-No! I’m fine, really!! You don’t have to worry, just get some rest!”

A small chuckle escaped you and you leaned back as you agreed and unpacked your belongings for the night. With your futon rolled out and bedding set up you turned to Zenitsu whose face was still basically steaming as he stared intently at his hands still being warmed, “Hey Zenitsu,” you called out hesitantly, “Can... Um, c-can you turn around for a bit please? I want to change into my yukata so I can sleep.”

“Oh! Y-yea! Of course!” Whipping around to face the rock wall, he desperately tried to focus on anything but the sound of fabric falling to the ground as you undressed. Slipping on the sleepwear, you turned around to let him know you were done. “I’m done now, Zenitsu. Thank you!” Mumbling a response he turned back around to face the only source of heat in the hollow as you crawled under the covers of your bed. Before you could close your eyes, you realized something that made you sit up and stare at the boy sitting across from you with furrowed brows, earning a confused look from him.

“Hey, Zenitsu, did you bring your futon?” You could practically hear the gears turning in his head, and eventually, with a stroke of horror he realized he hadn’t brought it with him and let out a scream, his hands gripping his head and tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

“I didn’t!! I thought we would’ve gotten to the village by now so I didn’t think I’d need to!! I’m going to freeze to death out here! I’m going to freeze to death and it’s all my fault!”

“Sleep with me.”

His frantic cries stopped as your words processed through his brain. Immediately a blush so bright it was nearly glowing flushed over his face, ears and neck as you too blush at your misconstrued statement, “N-not like that of course! I just thought, well, since I’m the only one who brought a mattress and I don’t want you to freeze... You could sleep next to me..? There’s enough room...” Your voice trailed off near the end of your sentence, muttering under your breath, but Zenitsu heard. He heard every word, and with every word he grew impossibly redder and his heart rate sped up.

“You don’t have to right now, think about it for a while if you need to.” Your restful tone and tender smile certainly wasn’t helping the boy calm down.

‘Sleep!? With (Y/N)!? They’re okay with that!?’ he thought to himself, ‘They actually care about me enough to do that?’ Of course he knew that you cared about him, but he had his doubts and insecurities that he struggled with. The fact that you had been so willingly open about being concerned for his wellbeing threw the butterflies in his stomach into a fit. Removing his shoes and belt that carried his katana as quietly as possible, he decided that he’d rather nearly have a heart attack lying next to his crush than freeze to death as he padded across the cold cave floor. Gulping, he crouched next to your sleeping form, your back facing him. Swallowing his anxiety and embarrassment, he silently slid into bed next to you covering himself with the blanket while making sure you had more than enough for yourself. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment while he struggled to calm his racing pulse but quickly snapped open as he heard the one next to him shift around to face him. Somehow, he wasn’t sure how, but somehow you were even more beautiful in the warm light cast on your features from the still burning fire that burned behind him.

You smiled sweetly, “Thank you Zen, I was worried about you.”

The nickname you had given him made his heart flutter, ‘I should be the one thanking you,’ before he could respond you shivered and pulled the blankets draped over you closer, attempting to draw in the small amount of heat your body had created. Getting cold easily was already annoying to deal with, but being stranded in a cave with a raging blizzard outside really looks you in the eye and gives you a big ‘Fuck You.’ Even though you had started a fire and were swamped in the blanket you had brought with you, you still struggled to generate enough body heat to keep yourself warm.

He frowned, seeing you unhappy and shivering cold made him hurt, he had to think of a way to help. Taking a deep breath to steady himself he shakily drew you into his arms, swathing you in his haori and the blankets. You gasped as your face heated and your heart skipped a beat, “Zenitsu?” you questioned. “Y-you were cold and you offered to share this bed with me and s-so I wanted to keep you warm!” You could see the nervousness behind his golden eyes and couldn’t help your lips curving upward, he was too cute for his own good. The smile was sweet and held an expression he couldn’t quite decipher, “Thank you,” you whispered in a tone that dripped of affection.

“Of course... I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable. I-If I am I can move-” you cut him off by snuggling closer into his chest and giving a soft sigh, finding comfort in his scent, “Can we stay like this?” you spoke timidly, your voice barely above a whisper. He froze, if his hearing weren’t so great he would swear he misunderstood. You want to stay cuddling with Him? Of course it’s not like he would turn down the request, he would stay like this with you in his arms forever if he could. It was simply the fact that You, (Y/N), the most incredible, beautiful, kind, and lovely person he had ever met, enjoyed laying in his arms breathing in his scent.

“Yea...” his tone grew faint, “Yea we can stay like this,” finally answering, his pounding heart slowing ever so slightly as he relaxed. It was as though you were made for him, your frame fit so perfectly in his arms. His haori was just the right size to hold you in. This moment was just so perfect. You were so perfect.

“Hey Zen?” You broke the comfortable silence briefly, mumbling sleepy words. “Yes, (Y/N)?” he replied meekly. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Zenitsu smiled and looked down at you laying against his chest to reply only for his heart to swell with warmth as he found you fast asleep curled into him. Instead of replying, he placed a gentle kiss to your forehead and snuggled closer, closing his eyes.

Suddenly the storm outside didn’t seem cold anymore.

#was this self indulgent?#yes.#do i regret it?#no!#i love this boy too much #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #zenitsu x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #zenitsu agatsuma #reader insert #constructive critism welcome #my words

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