#oh crest you star you

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Let the Neighbours Hear - A Rio/Reader Smut Short.

Bit of Rio smut? Why not!

Words - 474

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

“Mmm, god damnit, mama. Fuck, that pussy got me gripped so damn tight. Shit.”  

His charm might be on the rougher side, but Rio is still the smoothest man you’ve ever bedded, his praise of you never anything short of golden toned, and the sight of him while he fucks you the most splendorous thing you’ve ever witnessed.  

He’s all beautiful skin and lithe muscles, his body trickling with sweat, dark eyes burning black with the sparkle of stars as he stares down at you, each groan so deep, his rasp sounds like tumbling boulders. You have one leg laid flat, the other held against his chest, his cock pounding into your molten core, watching him slow as he brings his thumb to your mouth. “Open those pretty lips, baby doll.”  

You oblige, sucking on his thumb, tongue flickering over the pad, Rio pulling it away, placing it at your clit and rubbing slow, firm circles. Your back arches, an elegant bow rising from the bed, his cock dragging sparks over your walls as you whimper. Every last inch of him glides back and forth slowly, thick, veiny hardness evoking tingles, your cunt fluttering around him.  

“Yeah, darlin’. Gonna come for me, hmm? Gonna let my neighbours hear how much you love this big dick?” 

“Mmmhmm,” you purr, nails raking his soaking chest. “But you gotta rail me really, really fucking hard.”  

His eyebrow arches, his perfect lips upturning into a grin. “Oh, that’s what I gotta do, huh?”  

He’s always so entertained when you give him your orders, his huge smile making you giggle softly, your fingers pinching at his nipples, dragging a growl from him. “Yeah, you do. Fuck me fast, until I scream. Now.” 

“Demanding little princess.” Leaning down, his lips ghost your mouth, moving to kiss your neck, a tiny flicker of his tongue sending a jolt through you. “Alright. You asked for it.” 

The upswing in pace is immediate and savage, Rio delivering his cock into your drenched core rapidly, watching your mouth fall open as you gasp and begin to cry out, hands fisting at the sheets as he pounds you with blazing determination.  

“Yeah, baby girl wanted it rough, huh? Fuck, look at you take that pounding. Damn, mama. So fucking hot.” You can feel it creeping through your nerves, the light of a perfect dawn cresting over the horizon that is him, beams bursting forth as you shatter with a wail. He’s not far behind, pounding you keenly as he grits his teeth and comes with a guttural groan, his cock twitching within you as he fills you with cum.  

“Hey!” The shout is coupled with a thumping from the apartment above. “Fucking keep it down!” 

Resting his head between your breasts, he begins to laugh, looking up at you. “Think my neighbours heard just fine.”  

#rio good girls #rio good girls fanfiction #manny montana fanfiction #rio x reader #manny montana x reader #rio good girls smut #manny montana smut #manny montana fanfic #manny montana fic #rio good girls fanfic #rio good girls fic

[pedropascallme]

Din teaching you Mando’a in any way he can. 

Some days it’s making you repeat words and phrases over and over again, helping you perfect your pronunciation. 

“Adate,”(people) he said, waving a finger between the two of you where you stood on the Crest.

“Adate.”

“Put more emphasis on the second ‘a.’”

“Adāte.”

“Jate. Adiik.”(Good. Child (between 3-13)) He pointed to Grogu.

“But he’s—”

“Say it.”

“Adiik.”

“Ori’jate. You’re getting better, mesh’la.” (Very good.)

Other times it would be more difficult, with Din speaking to you only in Mando’a, encouraging you to respond in the language.

“Copaani gaan?” He had come up behind you as you struggled to reach a wire that needed to be rewrapped under a hatch in a circuit board. (Need a hand?)

“Uh…elek.” You hesitated, hoping you had understood him properly. (Yes)

“Ni’liser gaa’tayl.” (I can help.)

“…Elek. Oh! Elek gedet’ye.” (Yes. Yes please.) You stumbled over the words, getting them out fast in the hopes that he wouldn’t point out your mispronunciation. “Vor’e.” (Thanks)

“Mirdala, cyar’ika.” He reached over your head to grab the wire. (Clever)

Your favorite teaching moments, however, were when he was fucking you. Against a wall in public, on the floor of the ship, in your bunk, it didn’t matter where it happened. He’d coerce you into speaking his native tongue, and it made you see stars. 

He was pounding into you, hand lovingly wrapped around your throat as he took you against a large stone on some quiet planet in the mid rim.

“Feel good, pretty girl?” He rocked his hips into you. “Jorhaa’ir, cyar’ika.” (Speak)

You felt heat rush to your core as he spoke, attempting to follow through on his instructions. But forming words right now—in basic or in Mando’a—didn’t come easy.

“El—fuck!—elek! G—gar’ganar ner kar’ta—oh, fuck! Din!” (Yes, you have my heart.) He fucked you harder upon hearing your words, thrusting in and out of you as if it were life-or-death. It was no secret that hearing you speak Mando’a turned him on, and when you said things like that it just further encouraged him to show you how good you made him feel.

He dropped his head down to your ear, still brutally fucking you, and through his helmet you heard him whisper: “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” (I love you.)

That phrase, you knew by heart.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #mandalorian smut #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #google show me english to mando'a translation

[revasserium]

BEGGING u to write switch!xavier x fem!reader friends to lovers smut i am obsessed with this man 🙏

hunter and the hunted

xavier; 1,661 words; nsfw!!!, fem!reader, nickname usage ("bunny", "miss hunter"), piv sex, switch!xavier, pwp

summary: after the photoshoot, you decide to reward xavier for being a good bunny butler. or, in which xav calls you "bunny" during sex.

a/n: im sorry i didn't do the friends to lovers thing anon but i hope this still scratches the switch!xavier itch???? based on the bunny!butler card :)

There’s always been a startling, stirring purpose to the way he does things.

And this — you keen, head tipping back as Xavier leans down to mouth at your exposed collarbones — you think, is no different.

“Hm… that’s a pretty sound… I think I’d like to hear it again, bunny.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, your breath hiccuping in your chest as you feel Xavier pulling back inch by excruciating inch before snapping forward, his head cocking to one side to watch you moan. His eyes are dark, darker than you’ve ever seen them, his pupils blown wide as the heart of dying stars —

“X-Xa — vi — vier — please —”

You flush at the way his name breaks on your tongue, at the way the tip of his cock kisses your cervix every time he pulls back and thrusts back in, at the way he angles his hips to hit just the right spot. It’s almost cruel, the way he watches you — his light-scattered eyes searching your face for something you don’t have a name for.

“Mm…” he leans down again, trailing warm lips along the line of your shoulder blade, biting down gently when you clench down around him, making his hips stutter. It’s the only tell that he’s just as affected as you are. But the next second, he’s pulling back to tug at your legs, fingers hooking behind your knees to press them up and up and up — till they’re shoved against your sweat-slicked chest.

“Oh bunny… look at you…”

You try to turn your head, try to look anywhere but at the hunger that marrs his face as his eyes flicker down to where he’s fucking into you, straight and steady, to where you can feel your own wetness slicking down the backs of your legs till it collects on the freshly laundered sheets below. Faintly, you wonder if there’s another set of sheets you can use for the night because this set is surely already ruined.

You can feel the thickness of him as he fills you, the weight of him dragging against your inner walls, the incriminating schick of wet skin against skin.

“I — I can’t —”

There’s a recklessness to the way he ruts down into you, a building, wind-wild abandon to the pace his hips keep, snapping quicker and quicker against yours, his thrusts going shallow as he lets out a soft breath, pushing your knees together with a tight groan.

“T-tell me, Miss Hunter…” he says, a bead of sweat trickling from his forehead to the tip of his nose as he rucks down into you, making white-hot stars explode behind your eyelids, the heat in your abdomen twisting tight, and then tighter — “didn’t you promise — you were going to show me something — special?”

You feel his thumb draw down between your bodies, tracing along the lips of your bruised labia before circling your clit once, twice. You gasp as you feel your climax cresting through you with almost no warning, and it’s all you can do to clutch at his arm, nails digging into his skin as you come.

“X-Xavier — c-com-ing —!”

“Nngh — that’s right… that’s… a good bunny…”

His hips stall as he watches you come undone around him, the way your whole body goes rigid, your skin slick with a sheen of sweat, the sweet pink indents of his teeth blossoming along your shoulders as you fall back, gasping for breath. He leans down, breathless, brushing his lips by your cheek.

“Good bunny…” he repeats, shushing you as you whimper, “there you go…”

Your vision tunnels, the heat washing over you now in waves as your body twitches through the aftermath of your release, even as Xavier pulls back and fucks forward with a soft groan, as if to chase his own high. Finally, finally.

Your eyelids flutter shut and you recall the events of just half an hour before, when you’d been the one on top, with him begging beneath you —

“A-ah… a-are you — what are you —” his voice is sharp, but you’re relentless as you tug at the waistband of his black slacks, sliding them off his thin hips, ghosting your lips over the dips there just to hear his breath hitch.

“Don’t worry, this is a reward, bunny!” you glance up at him, grinning at the pair of soft white bunny ears clipped into his hair, now a little lopsided as he blinks down at you, his hands dutifully bound in his lap with his black silk tie.

“Re-reward? I — ah —” he hisses as you ghost your lips over the obvious bulge in his boxers, grinning to yourself as you inch your fingers up his thighs, teasing the sensitive skin there.

“Yep! For being such a good ‘bunny’ today at the photo booth!”

“That was — j-just for —” he swallows, head tipping back as you mouth at the waistband of his boxers, glancing up, feeling heat pulse between your legs at the sight of his flushed cheeks and wet, parted lips.

“Just for…?” you tease, even as you slowly peel off his boxers, your mouth watering at the sight of his cock, the tip straining pink, dripping with precum. You can’t help the way your throat tenses as you wrap your fingers around the base and give it an experimental pump.

The strangled sound Xavier makes ripples over your bare skin like warm water.

“Weren’t you the one that asked me… if I’d like to unwrap my present earlier today? Well…” a quick kiss to the head of his cock is the only warning he gets before you lean down and lick a thick strip up, tracing the pulsing vein along the bottom of his shaft with your tongue, from base to tip and back down again.

“Mm — ah —” you hear the sound of his head thumping back against the headboard just as his hips kick up. You hum, pressing them back down with a firm hand.

“Naughty bunnies won’t get to cum,” you reprimand, to which he lets out a noise somewhere between a whine and a grunt, peering open one helpless eye, his fluffy white bunny ears now knocked painfully askew. You flash him a cheeky smile, the sight of him lying there, splayed out beneath you, his clothes tugged haphazardly open, wrists bound and cock straining, sends a rush of adrenalin through you, heady enough to make the room spin.

“N-not even if I say ‘please’?”

And really, there shouldn’t be any reason for him to sound so ruined already, not when you’ve only just started, but you bite your lips and swallow down a moan at his words. Your knees press as you run an idle finger along his twitching cock.

“Maybe… if you ask **really, really nicely…”

You don’t give him a chance to start begging properly before you lower your lips again, running your tongue along the underside of his rim as he gasps.

“O-Oh!”

You moan, loud and deliberate, relishing in the way he shivers at the way your voice thrums through his skin, and when you lower your head and feel him hit the back of your throat, Xavier keens — helpless and high and you think you feel his fingers in your hair as he fights between the urge to press you down and pull you back up. He settles for simply resting his hand there as you hollow out your cheeks and suck him down in earnest. A trail of broken little moans and gasps trickle from him as you work your mouth around him, pressing the flat of your tongue against him just to feel him jerk beneath you.

“If you’re good… I’ll show you something extra special,” you say after a few minutes, pulling off him with a loud pop and making a show of licking your lips.

“You… you really are ruthless…” he sounds breathless, but there’s a teasing note to the underbelly of his voice that sends tingles thrumming through your body. You can’t help the excitement that gathers in your gut at the thought of just what that tease might bring.

You drop a sweet kiss onto his hipbone before pulling yourself up the length of his body, rolling your hips down, groaning at the friction, your breath catching at the way his cock teases against your already-drenched pussy.

“Please…” Xavier’s teeth digs into his bottom lip, and you reach back to guide his aching cock toward your center, sinking down slow, relishing in the sting and the stretch.

It doesn’t take long after that — not with you sitting astride him, riding him with your palms planted on his chest. Not with the way your tits bounce and the way your thighs smack down over his hips with your every move.

It doesn’t take long, but far from being embarrassed, Xavier only hisses, before blinking a few times, almost sleepy as you ride him through his release. Then, he wiggles his wrists free from their constraints and plants his palms on either side of your hips, flipping you over with a single, fluid movement.

“Mm… that really was something…” he hikes your legs up over his shoulders and rolls his hips almost thoughtfully down against yours. You’re helpless to do anything but gasp as he brushes against a spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“I learned a lot,” he says, grinning as he plucks the bunny ears from his ruffled hair and presses them gently into yours, “so… what do you say, bunny?”

You whimper as he drops a hand to thumb lightly at your clit, “Xavier — wait, what —”

“C’mon Miss Hunter… let me show you… what a good student I can be.”

lads reqs are: open

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace headcanons #x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace smut #x reader smut #love and deepspace drabbles #love and deepspace fic #l&ds smut #l&ds #love and deepspace x you #xavier x reader #xavier headcanons #xavier smut #xavier scenarios #lads drabbles #lads smut #lads x reader #ya nasties #scheduled post #mndi @/cafekitsune #every. time. i write smut. i am reminded that i am not a good smut writer. and that it is not my strong suit LOL #every fucking time. siGH

[chaedomi]

THE CROWN PRINCESS

SUMMARY . after visiting her mother, lyrica finds herself learning about the mysterious crown princess who resides inside the sun palace.

CHARACTERS . LYRICA NARA TAKAR / BRINNE SOL

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 2.9k+ / MASTERLIST.

LETTERS . i'd like to make it known that this fanfiction was inspired by lyomeii's works ─ ( one / two ) yeah, i do plan to make this into a little platonic yandere series. and since this is a little introduction to it all, there won't be as much action in this compared to others that (hopefully) will come. 'breanna' is a character made by me on the spot. oh, God, this is so bad

LYRICA WAS having the best day of her life. Her mother had just bestowed upon her something truly precious—a silver coin, unparalleled to all the riches that could be offered. Honestly, when she lost the first silver coin she had earned back in the slums, she felt a sense of disappointment. That coin had been her pride, marked and stained with all the times she held it, dreaming of a better future. She never aspired to acquire another, as it couldn't compare to the first one she had cherished for so long. But, who cared? Even if it wasn't the same coin, it was still a silver coin—her precious silver coin.

"Ah... Huh...?" Lyrica's footsteps halted as something interesting captured her attention. The Black Dragon Chamber next door was The Crown Prince's room, and right next to it was another door—the entrance to The Crown Princess's chambers. It occurred to Lyrica that she had never laid eyes on The Crown Princess before. The Crown Princess hadn't even been present at her mother's and His Majesty's wedding!

Lyrica lifted her gaze to examine the sign above the chamber door. Said signs depicted the theme of the chambers and, by extension, identified the type of dragon associated with The Crown Princess.

However, instead of the expected dragon imagery, there was what Lyrica recognized as a constellation.

"Oh my," Brinne spoke beside Lyrica, causing the little girl to startle, as the voice was unexpected. "It seems that Your Highness has stumbled across something very interesting. Would you like me to explain, Your Highness?"

"Huh...?" Lyrica blinked at her servant before finally catching on. "O... Oh, yes, please!"

Brinne laughed in response to Lyrica's enthusiasm. "Recall when I mentioned that His Majesty and House Takar trace their lineage to dragons? I also explained that House Wolfe descends from wolves, and House Sandar's ancestry is tied to a colossal snake as thick as a tree."

Brinne’s eyelids fluttered open, and Lyrica could see for herself the fondness swirling in her amethyst-hued eyes.  Lyrica's curiosity deepened even more as a result of this reaction. Minor details about The Crown Princess's existence are known, yet she already fascinates Lyrica. In the 'White Dragon Chamber,' Lyrica remembers the information Brinne shared with her. The Founder of the prosperous Takar Nation was a dragon, leading to the Imperial Family (comprising Takars) being named after these mythical creatures.

So, why is it that you, The Crown Princess, aren't named after a dragon? Your hand was given to The Crown Prince, which rightfully places you within the Imperial Family. However, you carry the identity of something different—a star, or more precisely, a constellation of stars known as Pollux.

Lyrica resisted the urge to ask, concerned about overwhelming Brinne with questions she might not have answers to. However, the more she thought, the more she wanted answers. Despite the unsettling tales she had heard about The Emperor, her stepfather had proven to be benevolent. It wasn't as if The Emperor despised you otherwise, he wouldn't have permitted you to reside in The Sun Palace and ''''marry'''' The Crown Prince. So, why...?

Lyrica bit her lip and groaned, ultimately yielding to her curiosity. "The Family Crest of High-Ranking Nobles symbolizes their ancestry. However, considering House (L.N) bears the crest of a star, does that suggest that The Crown Princess is descended from a star?" Brinne tilted her head and beamed, satisfied with Lyrica's analysis. "Exactly!"

Although Brinne appeared content, Lyrica felt the opposite, her eyebrows furrowing in dissatisfaction. "But... I thought all Takars were named after dragons. What about The Crown Princess?" It's only at that moment that Brinne understands the confusion of The Young Princess. Brinne's smile widened further, momentarily causing Lyrica to worry about the strain on her jaw muscles.

"It's as you mentioned, Your Highness. All Takars, even those married into The Imperial Family, bear dragon names. But, The Crown Princess is only engaged to His Highness.” Brinne replied, a sly smirk gracing her stunning features. Lyrica's expression faltered as she processed her servant's words. “Your Highness, let me make it known that His Majesty deeply admires House (L.N), especially The Crown Princess."

As the realization dawned on her, Lyrica almost jumped in surprise. Tolerance and respect were one thing, but admiration? Another question was… why did Brinne tell her all of this when she had first moved into her chambers? Did she forget…?

Brinne giggled at Lyrica’s reaction. "With admiration comes a deep bond. As we know, His Majesty cannot rule forever, nor will it be advised for his nephew to rule alone. And so, because His Majesty trusts no one as he trusts House (L.N), he decided that one of them shall ascend to the throne alongside his nephew. Despite the many good suitors House (L.N) had to offer, The Crown Princess was chosen as she not only captured him with her abilities but her personality as well."

“Of course, to be a Crown Princess, you need to marry The Crown Prince first. However, His Majesty’s instructions to address Her Highness as such regardless is a way of showcasing her permanent ascension.”

Lyrica's eyebrows rose at the revelation. Well, now it makes sense why you weren’t identified as a dragon. Forget what she said about the marriage thing too. "But wait! Even if The Crown Princess didn’t receive that privilege, would she still be considered important, perhaps more so than High-Ranking Nobles?"

Brinne hummed in thought. “She would still be considered as a High-Ranking Noble even if she and those in House (L.N) hold more privileges than the others in the same noble class. …It’s all because of His Majesty’s orders. Everything is. You are aware of how absolute His Majesty’s orders are, right? If His Majesty commands people to act like animals, they will do just that. If His Majesty says to idolize an object, they will do just that! Even more so if His Majesty orders his people to respect House (L.N) just as they respect House Takar, they will do just that. It doesn’t matter if people are pleased with the arrangements or not. ...His Majesty’s reason for doing so all aligns with the shared history of House Takar and House (L.N).”

Lyrica became intrigued by that bit of information. "Shared history?" She leaned in, eager to learn more. "Can you tell me more, Brinne?" Unfortunately, Brinne responded with an apologetic smile, disappointing Lyrica.

"Regrettably, that's the extent of my knowledge regarding the relationship between House (L.N) and House Takar. It's a limit for anyone," Brinne's lips tightened. "The narrative unfolds after the nation's expansion and the allegiance of House Sandar and House Wolfe, undoubtedly including the deeds of House (L.N) that earned His Majesty's favor."

"However, crucial details of this significant historical period somehow vanished. Consequently, over time, people began crafting theories about how House (L.N) and House Takar evolved into their current relationship. Some theories were logical, while others were entirely nonsensical. And, of course, some seized the opportunity for profit, as seen in the widely popular children's fairytale, 'The Dragon Who Fell In Love With A Star.' You must have heard of it, haven't you?"

Lyrica recalled hearing a similar story in the slums, never imagining its connection to something so crucial. "That's incredible!" she exclaimed.

"Despite these theories, none have been confirmed. House (L.N) and House Takar are the only ones capable of such confirmation. However, His Majesty has maintained silence on the matter, and House (L.N) feels compelled to align with his decision."

"Yet, certain aspects remain clear. Regardless of factual evidence, His Majesty holds House (L.N) in high regard. Thus, we are to treat them with respect, just as we will respect House Takar. Whether others agree or disagree is unimportant."

“Either way, the latter is not a concern,” Brinne continued. “Everyone in this nation is fond of House (L.N), or in this case, The Crown Princess.”

Lyrica cocked her head to the side. “Even you?”

"Yes, Your Highness! Why wouldn't I?" Brinne laughed. "Allow me to explain how House (L.N) operates. As we are aware, High-Ranking Nobles align themselves with the symbols on their crests. Given that House (L.N) traces its lineage to a star... it's worth noting that House (L.N) is the largest Noble Family in the nation. This serves as a symbolic representation of the countless stars that adorn the sky."

"B-Billions!?" Lyrica stammered, staring at Brinne with widened eyes.

"Oh, dear." Brinne covered her mouth. "Your Highness, House (L.N) doesn't quite literally have billions. However, like certain traits are inherent to specific Noble Families, having large kin is one characteristic of House (L.N). So, fear not, Your Highness; having a small family circle is normal. House (L.N) just happens to multiply at a very alarming rate... to the extent that they are scattered throughout all corners of the nation."

"Due to their extensive family, House (L.N) has implemented a system within their household to maintain order. Drawing inspiration from astrology, where eighty-eight constellations are recognized, House (L.N) has structured itself into eighty-eight classes, each with varying levels of power and status. However, within these eighty-eight classes, there exist twelve classes that house the highest positions. I find myself intrigued by the method they use to organize it all..."

"But, moving on!" Brinne placed her hands on her knees. "Your Highness, are you familiar with the twelve constellations of the universe?"

"Yes! Glendelyn taught me about them! It's uh... Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces... right!?" Lyrica grinned, pleased with herself for recalling both the names and pronunciation.

"And those would be the twelve classes of House (L.N) with the highest status and power! The Crown Princess oversees Class Gemini of House (L.N), in part. As we know, Gemini is a twin star encompassing both Pollux and Castor. Therefore, Gemini is responsible for two individuals, with The Crown Princess having authority over Pollux."

Brinne's eyes crinkled with amusement. "It makes me wonder... if House (L.N)'s class sorting is also influenced by personality traits..."

"What makes you think that...?" Lyrica inquired, tilting her head to the side.

"Pollux means 'very sweet' or 'fit for royalty.' And when compared to both Castor and Pollux, Pollux is the brighter star of the two." Brinne giggled. "'Fit for royalty'... truly describes The Crown Princess! The Crown Princess can also be characterized as... bright and pure. Undoubtedly, she possesses the most beautiful soul in the entire nation."

In Lyrica's thoughts, she argues that her mother is the most beautiful soul of all!

"Generous, selfless, and loving. The Crown Princess consistently treats everyone impartially and respectfully, ignoring class or personality. When she had more freedom before getting engaged, The Crown Princess frequently visited the lower class, playing with the little children there. She gave them gifts, food, and clothes, disregarding the opinions of those in the Noble Status," Brinne explained.

"Now, with increased power, The Crown Princess has expressed her intent to enhance the quality of life for the lower class. His Majesty has already given his approval, leaving the timing of the project's initiation to The Crown Princess." Brinne hummed. "In summary, The Crown Princess is admired not just for her history and status. It's her demeanor and how she treats others, whether good or evil, that truly highlights her charm."

By now, Lyrica's eyes were gleaming. "She does sound amazing..." As someone who had previously lived in the slums, hearing about how The Crown Princess cared so tenderly for her fellow people deeply touched Lyrica. Typically, individuals of higher status tended to be snobbish and avoided those from lower classes, using harsh and insulting labels. Lyrica was all too familiar with that. However, there were exceptions—The Crown Princess, who cared for them despite their backgrounds, striving to improve their lives! Lyrica's thoughts began to wander, imagining what her life might have been like if she had encountered The Crown Princess in the past.

The only issue in her thoughts was, "Brinne, how exactly does The Crown Princess look?"

"Hmm... Let me think about how I can describe this. Your Highness, when you gaze at the stars at night, what's the first thing that comes to your mind?" Brinne inquired.

"Well, I always think about how beautiful the stars look tonight," Lyrica responded promptly.

“It’s the same for House (L.N). They possess a certain essence that makes them shine, glitter, and sparkle. The Crown Princess is no exception. She has gorgeous (h.c) hair that sparkles under the sunlight, and (s.c) skin that glows with the moonlight. However, what truly sets The Crown Princess apart within her House is her eyes. Those eyes of hers... are the physical embodiment of her lineage. With (e.c) eyes that sparkle like fine jewels, she carries the entire universe in them."

Lyrica's jaw dropped in amazement. "Is that another form of symbolism...?"

Brinne shook her head. "This time, it's quite literal." Seeing Lyrica's face scrunch up in suspicion, Brinne resisted the urge to giggle. "Oh my, Your Highness. I assure you, I'm not making fun of you for thinking House (L.N) consisted of billions of members. I don't blame you for being skeptical. Eyes resembling the universe? It does sound far-fetched, especially when no one else is known for having such a trait. But, it is the truth."

Lyrica pouted, fiddling with her clothes. "All of this talk just makes me want to meet The Crown Princess!"

"Huhu~ I'm certain The Crown Princess would have loved to meet you too, Your Highness. Unfortunately, current circumstances just won't allow her to do so. With The Crown Prince currently absent, The Crown Princess has temporarily taken over his responsibilities, attending to any work that needs to be accomplished in his stead."

"I can recall a day when The Crown Princess looked like a disaster, seconds away from collapsing onto the ground," Brinne shivered. "As much work as it may be, it's what needs to be done. Again, The Crown Prince and The Crown Princess are destined to ascend to the throne one day, signifying the future management of the nation. Thus, they must demonstrate their capabilities to the people, and most importantly, His Majesty."

“Oh!” Lyrica blinked.

“Hmm… Now, I’m not sure, but, come to think of it, you should be able to see The Crown Princess soon, Your Highness.” Brinne added.

“Oh!?” Lyrica exclaimed in a louder tone.

“His Highness should be returning from his feudal territory very soon. And once he does, Her Highness should be able to take a breather from her piles of work.”

Lyrica fell silent, staring at Brinne with a soft expression. Lyrica then smiled fondly, clasping her hands together. “I know The Crown Princess isn’t fully inside the family as yet… Even so, she would be my cousin. But, still… The Crown Princess… would be some form of big sister, right…?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“YOUR HIGHNESS! I come to you with great news! His Highness should be returning soon!” Gracefully entering the 'Constellation Pollux Chamber,' a maid carrying a golden tray of food and treats hastened toward you, seated upright in your bed, gazing at the scenery beyond your window.

Turning your attention forward, you stared at your maid with widened eyes. "Is that so?" Your surprise quickly morphed into happiness, a smile spreading across your lips as you interlaced your fingers. A flowery aura surrounded you, and your excitement was visible. "That is good news! How long has it been since Atil was gone...? Six months?"

"Precisely," your maid, Breanna, hummed, gently placing the tray on your bed tray table, which you wasted no time digging into. "I can tell that you have many ideas running through your head, Your Highness. I, too, would want to greet someone I cherish with a warm welcome after not seeing them for so long."

"For Atil...? Erm... No, that's not why I'm so excited... I'm excited because I won't have to work as hard as I did anymore!" You beamed without shame. "Ugh, it was torturous... Left, right, and center, it was just piles of paper. Any more, and I would have begun to see the pearly white gates of heaven..."

"Oh, my, is that all? His Highness would be upset if he heard that's the only reason you missed his presence," Breanna giggled.

"...Seriously...?"

"And then there are your new family members, Your Highness."

You paused, fingers clasped around the handle of your spoon. Slowly, you lifted your head to meet your maid's gaze, (e.c) eyes locking with amethyst eyes. "Yes, I have heard about the news. How His Majesty has taken a commoner as his bride, and her child as his daughter."

Your smile widened, lips encased around the tip of the spoon. As if nature were in sync with you, the sunlight cast an ethereal glow on your frame, making you appear more enchanting. Even your maid, who wore a sly smirk seconds prior, jaw slackened, staring at you in awe.

"It's a shame I am unable to do anything at the moment. I can't express just how eager I am to meet them. But one thing's for sure... I already see them as family."

In your eyes was the universe. Stars served as pupils, they glowed with endless glee and anticipation.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #my mom got a contract marriage #mmgacm #mmgacm x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #child reader #female reader

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

one | two

Finding out you're a princess isn't half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can't seem to stop flirting with you.

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au (sort of), all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance james isn't flirty this chapter i lied but he will be <3

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You're in the process of ruining your pyjama bottoms with willow charcoal when your father dies. 

The charcoal is fragile, unhoused, and it snaps with too much pressure. An uneven half falls between the sheets of your sketchbook, marring the artwork it rolls over indiscriminately. 

You sigh without thinking and rub your tired eyes, spreading a line of smudgy black under your brow. Squinting, you peek at the portrait you'd been drawing. A young woman with deep, dark skin, her cheek shaded by the leaves of a sycamore tree. The branches arc over her skin in shadowed lines, sunlight dappling illustrated by sparse triangles of the white paper underneath. 

It had been an okay sketch. The snapped charcoal distracts from what you'd originally set out to do — a dynamic, revealing portrait — and instead replaces it with a more abstract feel. 

You sigh again, this time with a melodrama you'd only ever feel comfortable displaying alone. Thankfully, that's the case more often than not. You live by yourself, no partner, no pets, nobody around to see you drop your sketchbook onto the floor beside your bed, kick out your feet toward the rug, and moan. Your socks slide against the hardwood. You kick them like a child as you slip down the side of the bed, shirt caught behind you, soft middle exposed. 

You swear to yourself quietly, pressing the backs of your hands to your eyes. 

A sharp trilling sound chimes. On the nightstand, your phone vibrates hard, and the water in the glass next to it crests against the sides like tiny shockwaves. 

You pull it into your lap and stare at the number. It goes to voicemail, and then it rings again. Again, again, and again.

You consider turning your phone off. Five phone calls and counting indicates an emergency, but every cell begs to avoid whatever it is on the other side. 

You can't avoid everything, no matter how much you want to. You answer the phone. 

"Hello," you greet.

The muffled echo of a cheerful voice responds.

"Yeah, that's me… Okay. Yeah, now is fine."

More chattering. Less cheerful, diplomatic.

"My father?" you ask.

You are told two impossible truths. 

"Oh," you say. The walls spin. "Right." 

—

"I hate flying," Sirius mutters.

James hums, noncommittal. 

"You know, my good looks are wasted if we end up lost in the middle of the Atlantic ocean."

"It's not the middle of the Atlantic ocean," Remus says, sounding about as interested in Sirius' whining as James is currently. "It's an arm." 

"It's the fucking English channel," James says. It's barely the ocean. "How much do you reckon a pair of in flight headphones will cost?" 

Sirius, despite his anxiety, has the bandwidth to appreciate James' bad mood. "What crawled up your arse?"  

James sinks down into his seat, knees immediately pressed into the hard plastic of the chair in front, back aching and head heavy from a lack of rest he won't make up anytime soon. 

"He's agitated," Remus says. 

"Helpful, Moony. Super helpful."

"Fuck yourself, then," Remus says, pulling his sleep mask over his eyes and plugging in his earbuds.

The tannoy dings. The seatbelt light flashes. 

A flight attendant raises his voice from the start of the aisle. "If everybody could take their seats and buckle in, we'll be taking off in less than two minutes. Please turn all electronics to aeroplane mode. Thanks so much."  

"Is your phone off?" Sirius asks. 

"No, I actually want us to drown in the channel, but thanks for asking." 

A dark shock of curls lands against his shoulder. Sirius drapes himself unabashedly across James lap, hand on his friend's thigh, ankle crossing over ankle. Genovian through and through, Sirius doles out affection wantonly, smelling ridiculously nice as he does: a heady smell like browned sugar and citrus blossoms coalescing tickles the inside of James' nose. 

"Are you still cranky that you got demoted?" Sirius asks, smooth tones pitched into bubbly baby talk. 

"I didn't get demoted," James argues. 

James had, in fact, been demoted. 

"No, of course not. You've fallen from third guard to the Royal Prince of Genovia, may he rest in peace, to glorified babysitter of said Prince's illegitimate, forgotten child. Sounds the same to me." 

"Then we agree," James says, wanting to close his eyes. 

He'd pretend to sleep if he thought Sirius would believe it. Growing up together erases any semblance of privacy. Sirius knows James as James knows Sirius, and as they know Remus. Remus likely knows them all better than he'd ever admit, the youngest of the trio and the smartest, most perceptive man James has ever met. 

Sirius isn't perceptive, he's vigilant. He can read even the smallest signs of unrest, and it makes him uneasy. There will likely always be a shadow cast over him from a rough childhood, and while James is in a god awful mood, he reaches out to alleviate Sirius' anxiety. 

"I'm fine," James assures him, "just tired." Not mad at you goes unsaid. 

"It won't be as bad as you're thinking." 

"I'm fine. I'm not worried. Didn't sleep last night, and," —he grins as Sirius clasps his arm, their seats shaking underneath them, the plane beginning its race across tarmac— "some scrawny git is squeezing fuck out of my arm." 

Sirius flinches away from him. "You're annoying." 

James presses his shoe up to the side of Sirius' and leans back in his chair, wincing at the rattling carriage as they take off, and again when he remembers where they're going. You wait in London, though nobody in the task force assigned to your assimilation or the advisement team could come to explain how you'd ended up there. Your Genovian citizenship is unacknowledged on your passport, your birth certificate, even, and as far as Lily had been able to suss, you have little understanding of who you are. 

"She sounded tired, mostly," Lily had said when pressed for details about the new princess' personality. "In shock. Slightly disbelieving, but could you believe it?" 

Lily, James'... friend, and work colleague at a stretch, is an ambassador for the UK and full-time genovian resident. Along with a handful of other representatives and officials, she’d been responsible for opening the talks between Genovia and yourself. That is to say, she'd broken the news. 

Surprise! Your dad just died! Double surprise, you're a princess. And, no pressure or anything, but we kind of need you to come back to Genovia to maintain the royal lineage before your grandmother abdicates the throne (unwillingly). 

"Did you mention the tiara?" he'd asked Lily. The Princess' diadem, a master craftsmanship of silver-gold with a diamond the size of an apple. 

"Weirdly, Potter, I didn’t mention the jewellery." 

He supposes there hadn't been time to weasel that tidbit in between condolences and recruitment. 

You haven't promised anything in ways of returning to Genova or taking up the mantle. James understands. If he were in your shoes, he likely would've laughed down the line and blocked the number. You’d shown incredible promise as a future leader, agreeing to meet with Lily and her team at the Genovian embassy. Then, a day later, they'd modified the plan and asked if you'd be okay meeting somewhere more private. 

You'd said yes. 

As someone who may be very involved in your bodily safety in the near future, James thinks you're an idiot. Somebody calls you, claiming that you're a princess, though nobody has ever bothered telling you this before because you were never heir apparent, and that they'll tell you more should you deign to meet with them in a place with meagre surveillance, and you say yes to this?

How you've survived as long as you have is a mystery. 

He hopes you won't make his job difficult. Isn't that what everyone hopes? He feels guilty for judging you without meeting you, promising in his head to be nicer to you in actuality. You're probably grieving and definitely confused. He shouldn't be worrying about his job. 

Redetermined, James lets the anxiety of his new assignment water down. 

Sirius is thinking along the same lines: how easy will you make his particular occupation. "Bets are on. Scruffy or sweet?" 

"Huh?" James asks, pretending he doesn't understand in hopes of rectifying Sirius' attitude. 

"Slovenly or love-nly?" 

"I'm sure she's fine." 

"You should hope so, you'll be looking at the back of her head for a while." 

James rolls his eyes. 

"I'll manage, pretty or not." 

His confidence draws Sirius' curiosity. "How're you so sure?" Sirius asks, chin-lifted, light eyes narrowed in bemusement. His expression dances with the surety of somebody well-raised. He could wear a potato sack and his regal air would endeavour, deep-seeded and neat like the trim stitching of his expensive clothes. 

"Look at my face right now. Do I seem affected?" 

Sirius laughs much too loudly at the implication. "Don't act like I'm not handsome, Prongs." 

"Years of practice." James schools his features into an unaffected mask. "Uggos have no effect on me." 

"How else would you look in the mirror?" Sirius drawls. 

When Remus wakes afterward, he finds they haven't quite killed each other, though James has threatened it twice. With one hand, Black.

"Far are we?" he asks. 

Sleep has made little difference to him. He’s the kind of fatigued that can't be improved with an afternoon nap, and the kind of unwell that can't be fixed. Medicated, diminished, but never fully healed. He rolls his neck and makes three separate, unfortunate sounds, stretching his tight hands out flat over his thighs. 

"Landing any minute now is my guess," Sirius answers. "How are you feeling?" 

He waves his hand around, tired eyes locking onto James' lasting frown. "Sorry for leaving you alone with him." 

Sirius gasps his indignation. The three of them all smile in tandem, James in a rush to add to the joke. 

"You should be, fucker, I don't care how sick you are. You're sick in the mind if you think it's acceptable to-" 

"You're sick for acting like I'm some misbehaved child you've been pandering to. You're bullies, and as soon as we're in the airport I'm ditching you both in favour of a Great British Burger King." 

"One," James says, still smiling widely, "I have your per diem, so unless you brought your wallet, you're sunk." Sirius frowns. "Two, I'd love it if you would repeat that little moniker you gave me a minute before he woke up. Seriously. Shed some light on the real bully." 

Sirius pulls his sunglasses from his jacket pocket and places them over the bridge of his nose delicately. "Unnecessary." 

"I wouldn't mind Burger King," Remus says. 

"We have to be quick," James says. 

Sirius is so incensed he actually spits a bit as he scathes, "You fuckers. I want food and it's lorded over my head, but Moons wants something and your only limitation is how fast he can eat it?" 

He's not truly as angry as he appears. He's joking, and he's fallen into a familiarity that can only come with years of ragging on one another relentlessly. Still  Remus pats his tight shoulder and smiles.

"I'm a slow chewer." 

"He's a slow chewer, Sirius. Have some compassion." 

“How fast could he chew missing a few teeth, I wonder?” Sirius asks.

James gasps, delighted at his friend's casual threat. Remus does a better job at hiding his amusement, tamping back a smile as he reaches over the armrest between their seats and slapping a hand into Sirius’ seatbelt. The mechanism unlatches, the ‘Fasten Your Seatbelts’ sign flashes, and a shaming beeping sound rings overhead. 

Sirius squeaks. 

—

What do you wear to meet a British ambassador? A Genovian ambassador? Any sort of diplomat? You aren't too sure what an ambassador even is, only that every word Lily Evans has said to you sounds shockingly official. 

"Your citizenship has been reinstated whether you choose to move forward or not. We want to stress that you have choices," Lily says. Call me Lily, please. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to." 

"We also want to stress," says Emmeline, the Genovian ambassador, "that your presence in Genovia is greatly desired. For the funeral." 

"The funeral," you say softly. 

"It will be a… very, very big event. We don't have to talk about all of the logistics now. Or ever, if you're not interested." 

Emmeline clears her throat. "The family would appreciate it." 

The family. The royal family. The Queen of Genovia, your grandmother, and her… unfortunate younger sister, who's behaviour (according to the Internet) has been less than ideal. Her sisters son, who might take the throne if you refuse it. Or, so you've come to understand. 

All this lineage and politics has been hard to navigate by yourself, though rest assured, you've been assigned two personal assistants of a sort. One for appearances of the physical, and one for appearances of the mind. 

A stylist and a tutor. 

"And a bodyguard," Lily says, "your safety is the most important thing." 

You grip the end of your dress in your hands and squeeze the skirts tightly. Safety? You'd rather not embarrass yourself by asking. 

"We actually want you to meet them now," Emmeline says. 

"Whenever they show up," Lily adds. She sounds embarrassed but unsurprised, like this has happened before. 

There's a small silence. You pull your bag into your lap and squeeze it, hoping it hides the curve of your stomach. You aren't sure what you're supposed to wear to occasions like this, and so you'd worn the nicest thing you owned, a pretty, simplistic dress ruched under the chest, and a cardigan overtop. 

You catch yourself frowning and quirk your lips up into a practised smile. Gentle, amicable, the kind you'd offer a passing stranger. 

"Well," Lily says, filling the awkwardness, "I'm sure they'll come around soon. Maybe we should talk about inheritance." 

"Legally, you're entitled to an inheritance. You could think of it like a pension, an allowance you'd be given from the age of eighteen. You've already passed that, and so you'll be given the years upto, and then the rest in annual increments," Emmeline says. "There's a team of people who can and will explain it better at a later date, or whenever you want to discuss it, once you've agreed to a paternity test." 

"A paternity test?" you ask. 

You feel rather useless. All you've done is ask for explanations since you sat down, your head a spinning mill. Information goes around and around with no time to sink in. 

Emmeline opens her mouth to continue and is interrupted by three sharp knocks. 

"Come in," Lily calls. She turns her gaze to you, orange hair moving over her shoulder in a silken sheet, and raises her eyebrows. 

You don't know what it means. 

First to enter the room is a modestly dressed man with straight, sandy hair. It's long enough to peek out from under his ears, where it curls. He steps into the light, illuminating a shock of shiny scars clawed over the bridge of his nose and teasing up into one thick eyebrow. 

"Sorry," he says, not quietly but certainly not loudly. "We had trouble finding the room." 

Behind him immediately stands a man with dark hair to his shoulders, white but tanned. He wears slacks, in which a shirt has been tucked on one side and not the other, a purposeful dishevelment. 

"And the building," adds the second. 

Last to enter is the biggest of the three. You'd hazard a guess that he's six foot or taller, not the tallest of his companions but the most imposing, with a monotone outfit of pristine blacks that he fills too well, his shirt clinging to the muscle underneath it. His skin is a warm brown that soaks up the big light overhead and shines golden, his hair black and thick, laying in mussed ringlets stroked back from his face. 

He is the most handsome person you've ever seen in real life. It startles you. Worse, when he meets your eyes. 

You smile carefully. He smiles back. 

Lily stands to gesture toward each man in turn. The first, "Remus Lupin," she says, "your tutor on all things Genovia." The second, "Sirius Black, stylist and your guide on media presence." 

The third. 

"James Potter," Lily says, not looking at him. "Bodyguard. James will be with you for the foreseeable future, even if you decide on– Well. You should get to know one another, at any rate." You must wear your worries on your face, as she continues, "You're in safe hands. James was third in command in the protection of His Highness." 

"Hello," you say. 

Sirius' eyes widen in tandem with his smile. "Hello." 

"It's nice to meet you. We're sorry for your loss," Remus says.

"No," you say, head tilted toward your shoulder as you frown at James sympathetically, "I should be sorry, you actually knew him. I can't imagine how this feels for you." 

"Thank you. But don't be," James says. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Princess."

You look to Emmeline, almost like you're waiting for her to correct him. 

She smiles at you hopefully. "Shall we talk arrangements for your departure?" 

—

James is trying not to look at you too much, though if he is he can write it off as purely protective. You're sitting in your seat like you're worried about touching a seat mate who doesn't exist, arms wrapped around your middle and face pointed to the floor. 

"I'll rent a car," he says. 

You curl into yourself a little more. "What for?" 

"It's much safer." 

"I don't want you to– I mean, you aren't a chauffer." 

"I'm not." He bends at the knees to speak directly to you. "There are seven other people on this bus. One is elderly. Three are younger than sixteen. All seven could potentially harm you." 

You look to the left without turning your head, toward the sound of young laughter. He'd bet money on your thoughts. Even the children?

"The driver could have an aneurysm. He could be paid off. He could be carrying a concealed weapon." James smiles at you placatingly. "Understand? If I drive, the potential danger goes down to one." 

"Me?" 

"No. Me." He tries very hard not to wink and look like a dickhead. "But I'm not going to hurt you. Not really my perogative." 

"Oh, good." 

James recall what Lily had said, rightfully. You and James will be in each other's company for the foreseeable future, and while he has a job to do, there's room for friendliness. Sort of. 

He splits his attention between you and the front of the bus, where a small family carts a pushchair. 

"What do you do?" he asks. 

He knows you attend classes for a degree equivalent at your local college. He knows you're a waitress. He knows you moved to central London when you were very young, and that your estranged mother had been the cause of all this confusion. He asks you because he wants to know how you'll frame it. In your own eyes, what is your life?

"I'm a waitress." 

He nods. "Local?" 

"Mm. At a pub called The Morgan." 

"You have a shift today?" 

"Not today. I took the day off." You stand up and click the STOP call button on the rail James is holding. Your arm brushes against his. "It's this stop." 

James trails behind you, off of the bus and straight into a busy street. 

"How far is it to your house?" he asks, loud to be heard over the hubbub and the roadworks. 

"Not long. Are you okay to walk?"

James finds himself oddly charmed by your question. "I'm just fine." 

You squeeze through the crowded pavements lining the street, folded in, keeping your arms close, and you apologise every time you touch someone, even if it's the other person's fault. James keeps close to your back, moving to your side when he worries you might sprain your neck trying to check that you're following. He had some height on you, which is a good thing for security purposes — he can see uninterrupted over the top of your head when he stands this close. 

The day is cool, the last dregs of an end of summer heat lingering in the air and encouraged by so many bodies in one place. James wonders if you're too warm, dressed as you are in tights, but the thought fades when you trip. 

James grabs the top of your arm, fingers sliding between your arm and your chest. Closer than he wants to be, crueller than he means to be as he keeps you steady. 

To his surprise, you laugh. A really nice sound, sudden but sweet. 

"Sorry, Princess," he says. 

"You saved me," you say, a hint of breathlessness in your tone. "Thank you. My flat's in the next building over." 

"Brilliant." His bag is fucking heavy, a weight between his shoulders that aches when he lifts his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as it sets. You've got a long, long night ahead of doing nothing. "What's your address?" 

You tell it to him. "Why?" 

"For the rest of your security detail." 

He slows as you come to the main door of your building. It's quieter here, the loudest sounds a symphony of barking dogs, car engines revving, and the jangle of your keys as you unlock the door and bump it with your hip. 

"More people?" you ask. "Is that really necessary?" 

"You always do that?" 

"It gets stuck," you explain. 

He hums. "It's necessary. The media's been paid handsomely to keep our operation to themselves for now, but there's always pressure to be the first to break a story." 

"And I'm the story?" you ask, nodding toward the stairs in the centre of the room. 

He steps over a bundle of scattered letters. The building is mostly clean, but mail bulges from cubbies, and an old mattress has been left propped against a wall. 

"You're the story," he says, head up to analyse the atrium. There's a skylight spotted with green moss above. 

You take the stairs up to the first floor, where your flat is the first he comes across. That increases your risk of a break in, rapists or robbers. He asks you to wait at the door while he clears each room, knowing it's an unecessary precaution but taking it anyway. It's not worth saving the half a minute it costs on the off-chance you've been infiltrated. 

He snorts at his own train of thought and returns to you, where you're sliding a special locking mechanism between the door latch and the frame. You shake the lock. 

"Did you get that recently?" 

You look up at him and smile. "Since I moved in. I'm first on the floor. Don't want to get murdered in my sleep." 

"Good girl," he says absentmindedly, crossing the room to secure your window. 

He moves into your room again and secures the larger window over your bed. Then, because he's awful and curious, he catalogues your things. 

"You're an artist," he says, head listed toward the doorway. 

You stop by the dresser, hastily stuffing clothes left aside back into the top drawer. "Not– not really." 

The room is a crammed collection of things. It's clear you've attempted to keep it clean. You were doomed to fail, an outpouring of your heart stuffed into a matchbox; books, sketchbooks, notebooks are stacked against the leftmost wall between your bed and your dresser, while paints and pencils take up two thirds of your desk. A small sketchbook rests closed in the mess of your unmade bed, dark bed sheets disrupted by a pair of white pyjamas discarded at the end. Soot or something similar stains the fabric. 

He averts his gaze from your dirty hamper and faces you. 

"At 8PM, one of my team will swap duty with me. His name is Frank, and I've worked with him before, but if you aren't comfortable with anything he does while I'm not working, you can tell me. If I do something that makes you uncomfortable, you can tell Lily. You can tell me, of course," he amends. "I can take the couch." 

"You sleep at eight?" 

"I sleep at nine." 

"You don't mind sleeping on the couch?"

"Not at all." 

You walk to your dresser and pull open the bottom drawer. Inside is a layer of linens, and you pull them out neatly. 

"You don't have to, uh, put on a show for me," you say with a wince. 

"Sorry?" 

"I'm not a princess. I'm not the princess." 

"You don't think so?" 

You look sweet, kneeling on the floor, hair in pretty disarray from the walk home. You move it out of your face and offer a folded square to him with both hands. 

"It's a misunderstanding. But…" You take a pillowcase into your hand and stand up, closing the drawer with your ankle. "Even if I were, I don't think you need to be so formal, you know?" 

You move past him, a wave of nice smells.

"It's my job." 

Again, you surprise him by laughing, climbing on top of your unmade sheets to grab one of your pillows. "Right," you say, stripping it of its pillowcase and shaking it into a new one. The tip of your tongue makes a brief appearance as you plump up the corners. 

You climb off of the bed. "Here," you say, taking the sheet he's holding to press the pillow into his hands. 

"Oh," he says, looking down at the pillowcase. It's covered in small pink flowers. "I don't need this." 

"My settee isn't comfortable." 

"Half of my job is being able to sleep anywhere." 

You smile at him. His words don't discourage you, and he stands in the doorway between your bedroom and your living room as you lay down an old quilt over the settee and tuck a sheet around it and under the sofa cushions. 

"I know it's strange, but you could take my bed, if you wanted to. You're so tall, I don't think-"

James cuts you off, not unkindly. "Thank you, but I couldn't." He lets the side of his chest rest against the doorway, arms crossed. Your back is straight, tense with anxiety. "I have something for you." 

You blink at him. "For me?" 

He grins, his first proper smile all day, and pulls his bag onto the freshly made settee to unzip the front compartment. He pulls out a small jewellery box, pulling the lid off to hold between his arm and chest. 

The tennis bracelet inside is thin but strong, made up of gold-silver links with sapphire-coloured gemstone. He assumes them to be real sapphire or something similar, like blue-hued ruby. 

"This is a panic button." 

You seem more anxious than when he'd pulled out the box. 

"Don't worry about losing it. I'm sure the Genovian coffers will recover." 

"It's not that. Do you think it will fit?" you ask. 

He hadn't thought about it. Luckily, Mary had. 

"There are spare links hidden under the velvet." 

James puts the box on your coffee table and clicks the links into place, handling the bracelet with less care than he ought to. Firmly snapped into place, he offers the lengthened bracelet to you unlatched. 

"Here," he says, pointing toward one link in particular. "If you squeeze this tightly, the heat sensor will alert me."

"It won't feel the heat of my wrist?" 

"It will. It's sophisticated, it'll disregard anything that isn't a sudden spike. That's your panic button. You squeeze that–" He pinches it in demonstration. The small radio clipped discreetly to his shoulder starts to beep, a circling alarm. He removes his fingers from the bracelet and it stops. "Okay?" 

"I haven't even passed the paternity test yet." 

"My being here indicates that you're of special interest. We don't know if you're the Princess for certain, and neither do the newspapers. You're still in danger either way." 

You press your lips together and hold out your wrist. 

James steps close to you, enough to see details and lines he's missed. The longer he stays in your company, the more endeared he is to your shy smile, and your kindness, and he thinks you're the type of person who's outsides reflect the insides. You smile. 

Either side of your wrist glows with heat as he drapes the bracelet over your skin and clicks it closed, wary of pinching you. 

The room is quiet. The clock over your small kitchen table ticks. 

"There," James murmurs, taking back his hands. 

"Thank you." 

He disregards it completely. "No worries." 

His informality gets you, and you smile, your own first and proper smile since you'd been introduced. 

By the time Frank arrives for turnover, James is confident that his assignment to your protection won't be nearly as awful as he'd thought. You'd insisted on making him something to eat, which he'd been sincerely grateful for, as a man can't run on Burger King alone, and then you'd practically showered him in an awkward but entirely genuine hospitality, offering your bathroom and all its contents, every blanket you owned, the TV remote, and a tin of biscuits. 

He introduces you to Frank, and for an hour you make yourself busy in the kitchen, cleaning dishes you'd refused his help with and wiping down the counters. 

He senses your unease at being outnumbered in your own home. Unfortunately, there isn't much he can do to make you feel better, besides appoint Frank to door duty and try to offer some words of comfort. 

James tries not to look as imposing as he feels, clearing his throat to draw your attention as you leave the kitchenette.

"Listen," he says softly, a mirror of you now that you're both changed into lounge clothes and damp-haired from the shower, "I want to reassure you— I'm here to protect you from any and every threat. I know this is unconventional, but I promise to do my best to make this easy for you." 

You look down at your trainer socks. "Sorry." 

"Can you do me a favour?" 

"Yeah, of course," you say, raising your chin. 

"No more apologies. This is hard, and I know that, you don't have to say sorry for anything. I'll promise you whatever you need me to if that will make you feel more comfortable."

Princess or no princess, you're confused, and you're unhappy in your own home. James wouldn't want that for anybody. 

"Do you think someone's going to kill me?" you ask. 

James softens. "No. Nobody is going to kill you." His smile melds slowly to mischief, dark lashes kissing in the corners of his eyes as he squints. "I'm a brilliant bodyguard, okay? Don't doubt my skills. And Frank's alright." 

You laugh under your breath, relieved. "I'm not doubting your skills." 

"Good. I'm not just a pretty face, Princess." 

You sober at the title. The flicker of camaraderie between you fizzles, and you shake it off. 

"Can I get you anything?" you ask. 

He hopes that in a month, or a year, when you're living the high life in Genovia with a hundred serfs and lavish goods beyond your wildest dreams, you'll keep your earnest smile, and your good heart. He's seen exactly what court politics can do to timid young women like you.

"No," he says, matching your volume, "nothing."

"Okay. You can wake me if you need anything." 

He absolutely won't. "Thank you... Goodnight." 

"Goodnight."

You disappear behind your bedroom door. James lays down over the small sofa, alarm set for a dry-eyed 4:30AM, and listens to your flat as it cools. You close the blinds, sharpen a pencil, and for a period of time, he's lulled by the mild shushing of a pencil over paper. 

He falls asleep. He must. A silence settles, thick and uninterrupted as poured molasses. 

A splintering crash pulls him back to consciousness, and every nerve-ending sings as a weight falls to the floor. A thump sounds from behind your closed door. James practically leaps over the settee's arm to your door, Frank hot on his heels. 

He throws open the door, braced for impact.

You aren't anywhere to be seen. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thanks for reading!! i hope you enjoyed this first part, and if you did and you have the time please consider reblogging, it makes a difference! plus i'd love to know what u think or what you'd love to see in future<3

the fics title is adapted from a line in piedra del sol by octavio paz

#james potter fic #james potter #marauders era #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #the marauders x reader #the marauders fanfic #james potter x fem!reader

[cannellee]

NARUTO OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! naruto au x omega! reader (f)

— what they would give you as a courting gift (pairing : naruto, shikamaru, sasuke, itachi, rock lee, neji)

my masterlist : ☆

ALPHA! NARUTO

naruto is a joyous and energetic person, his gift are as vibrant as him. in order to court you, he would definitely take you out on some dates. ichiraku ramen sounds like the perfect place to begin his courting! it's a place which holds countless of precious memories for him and he wants you to get to know him better. he's someone who speaks his mind, so I think he'll really talk openly about his desires and interests in you, it's one of the rare times he's being serious and it's truly a sight to see.

onto a more materialistic approach, naruto will 100% gifts you plushies. he thinks it's an adorable way to connect the both of you. extra points if the plushie is the effigy of kurama! he will sometimes scent it, sometimes not. it all depends on how you react to them, he'll pay attention to your reactions and decides if that was the right move.

I also think naruto will choose a more natural and spontaneous courting, surprising you with cute and funny outings. helping you escape at night so you can both see the stars together. he'll throw cute notes at you to cheer you up during class...

overall, naruto just wishes to spend more time with you, make you laugh and smile. he really considers your happy face as a reward, it literally makes his day. he wants the both of you to know each other and grow closer.

ALPHA! SASUKE

now sasuke is definitely more reserved in his approach and less explicit about his feelings for you. nonetheless, he won't stay on the sidelines and let other alphas steal you from him. I don't think he'll give you gifts at the very beginning, he's prudent and will first and foremost test the waters by subtly scenting you at times and assess your reaction. if he considers it a green light, he'll start acting more assertive. probably a few stargazing sessions to begin with and when you start to get closer, he'll be more possessive about his courting.

I think he would give an item related to his clan. it could be a luxurious silk robe with the uchiha crest at its back. he would love to see you wear it, in his mind, it serves as a symbol of unity and pride, having his omega wear that would reinforce the seriousness of your relationship along with solidifying his potential claim on you.

in the same spirit, later into the courting, sasuke would gift you a uchiha clan heirloom. that way, he puts you under his protection and his claim on you is now strong and clear, serving as a warning to all alphas that you're his. its strengthens your bond as it's a deep acknowledgment of the importance your hold in his life.

and in fact, sasuke's gift serves as a proof of his commitment to you and your relationship and it feels reassuring to know that he considers you as a member of his clan.

ALPHA! SHIKAMARU

as expected of shikamaru, he has a pretty good understanding of omegas' nature and will therefore, make pretty good gifts. he has a pretty laidback behaviour, this is why I think he wouldn't want to make courting seems too ceremonial and will adopt a more casual approach. oh you're cold ? here's his jacket, scented. you don't even have to ask, shikamaru is just great at making things seem so normal. you mentioned you liked soft items ? here's a cute blanket he bought today, no it's not really a gift, just a thanks for spending the day with him. and it's just that. of course if you're careful you'll catch him blushing if he sees you snuggling his scarf, it's redolent with his pheromones and he's pleased to see you look so safe.

other than that, it's mainly lazy indoor dates. just you taking a few naps, progressively getting closer to each other until you eventually fall asleep on his chest.

overall, shikamaru likes to do things according to your tastes and doesn't want his courting to seem unnatural and bizarre. he tries his best to be his usual self while also trying not to get too shy, surprisingly.

ALPHA! ROCK LEE

lee is a great alpha, always cheering you on. he's very open about his love for you and he just needs you to give in. of course he knows you're more reserved and needs more time to get to know him before you can make a decision. that's why he's so patient and devoted to you during the courting process. flowers, cheesy love notes, wood sculptures with your initials... with lee it's never ending and you're always surprised with what he was able to come up with.

he will give you gifts, but he'll also often take you out on dates for fun adventures, at least that's what he calls them. genuinely thinks rock climbing & hiking are the best ideas. if he discovers you're not sporty at all, don't worry! lee is more than happy to carry you around, take your hands to help you walk through a particularly tricky path and asks you if you need a break every five minutes. he takes it as his chance to prove to you how alpha, how reliable he is. how much his unwavering determination and passion are yours only.

probably will try cooking snacks, like cookies or brownies but I don't think he's that much of a cook so it'll end up messy. you'll have to console him about this fail attempt and reassure him that you can be the one cooking for him instead!

ALPHA! NEJI

neji is a great observer, he has your tastes and hobbies all figured out and he knows how to choose the perfect gifts. he is very gentle with the omega he is trying to court and his gifts are as thoughtful as you can imagine. small accessories! after assessing what you like, he'll settle on a small hairpin with soft colours, which compliment your eyes. jewelry as well! a subtle bracelet, a ring or anything, just to remind you that he thinks about you all the time. it's a way to show people that you too are connected and that neji is already pursuing you, the others can back off.

he knows you're sensitive to smells, so probably a few candles with sweet fragrant and cute designs. perfumes? (or insence burner) as long as he likes the smell, he's buying. he loves to know you're wearing the scent he has chosen for you, it's like a pre-mark. it's not his scent yet but it's only a matter of time.

however, neiji will not force things, you'll wear his pheromones yes, but only when you feel ready and you have completely accepted him.

a delicately sewed kimono, or an item you'll be able to wear more easily, like a scarf, gloves... but! his favourite courting gift and the gift which really sealed your relationship is the cute pendant around your neck, carrying a piece of his cloth so that you always smell like him. it's subtle, but enough for the time being, he'll have plenty more time later to scent you profusely!

ALPHA! ITACHI

to. provide.

this man's main goal is to provide for you and to show you he can do it. he's reliable and he's desperate to have a chance with you. please notice him.

while getting to know him, you'll get plenty of nest items, scented of course. a lot of blankets, a few pillows and some of his clothes, he'll give it all to you. he'll even help you build your nest if you let him, he's not so sure about what he's doing but he's attentive and learns fast so you can count on him!

he'll get you food as well. you'll never be hungry with itachi. when you meet up, if he didn't already brought snacks with him, you can be sure he'll buy some later just for you. you paying isn't even a option.

just like his brother, he'll give you clothes you can wear on a daily basis with the uchiha clan crest on them. all that to assure your protection and to claim you, nobody wants to meet a jealous uchiha anyways.

he's a bit quiet at times so he'll use notes to share his feelings. it's always really touching and delicate, you know he means it.

#cannelle★ #naruto headcanons #naruto drabble #omegaverse naruto #naruto omegaverse fanfiction #naruto fluff #naruto omegaverse headcanons #naruto omegaverse #naruto omegaverse imagines #naruto x reader #sasuke x reader #neji x reader #rock lee x reader #omegaverse anime #omega!reader #alpha x reader #alpha x omega #itachi headcanons #alpha itachi #alpha naruto #alpha neji #alpha rock lee #omegaverse tokyo revengers #naruto omegaverse scenarios #naruto a/b/o #alpha naruto shippuden #anime omegaverse #alpha headcanons #neji headcanons #itachi x reader

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐩'𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. — 𝒋𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒖𝒂𝒏. ˒ ⊹

syn. wicked is not a word you’d use to describe the general—that is, until you let him have his way with you. pair. jing yuan x f!reader cw. porn no plot / orgasm denial / overstim / sir kink / pet names (my girl, little sparrow shoutout ais touchstarved) / dacryphilia / oral (f!receiving) / v fingering / very brief mindbreak mention ... note. jing yuan will come home. i am manifesting it. enjoy dis ficlet ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI. NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

“you’re doing so well for me.”

the deep rumble of jing yuan’s voice does little to soothe the vicious ache between your legs, his lithe fingers working your folds so deliciously and yet keeping you on that precipice that you just can’t seem to fall over. he’s been doing this for awhile now, letting the pleasure in your core tighten just enough to bring you to the edge, and then he’d stop completely, denying you the one thing you want the most. you let out a pathetic wail as he pulls away yet again, leaving you high and dry for what feels like the millionth time.

“jing yuan, please!” you sob. he clicks his tongue.

“what did we talk about, little sparrow? c’mon. you know that’s not how you’re s’posed to address me.”

you can see his smug grin through blurry eyes, tears gathering on your lashes as your hips buck in search of any kind of relief.

“g-general, sir,” you plead shakily, “please let me cum.”

“that’s my girl.”

and his fingers plunge back into your gummy walls, working against that sensitive spot in just the right way to make you see stars. your mouth drops open as a moan catches in your throat, and your thighs start shaking as you feel yourself nearing the crest of an orgasm once again.

this time, though, jing yuan lets you fall, his other large hand coming down to work at your clit with his thumb mercilessly. you shake violently as he lets you cum with tears falling down your cheeks.

he lets you ride out your high—and.. and he doesn’t stop, and oh my god, your stomach is tight with overwhelming pleasure and the rise of another orgasm.

“wait— wait! oh, oh god, sir, please, s’too much..!”

if you could even think through jing yuan’s ministrations, maybe you could catch the devilish glint in his eyes, or the way his canines flash as he smirks down at your trembling form. maybe you could catch the way his cock is straining against his boxers, stained with the obscene amount of pre his tip was leaking. oh, aeons, jing yuan was completely infatuated with the way you cried pretty crystalline tears, the way you were singing for him, infatuated with you, you, you, utterly ruined under him.

you let out a sob as he lowers his head to wrap his lips around your clit; and when he sucks, your thighs clench so tightly around his head—jing yuan thinks that he’s in heaven. he’s obsessed with you and your pleasure, his hips rutting against the bed as he fingers you, crooking them oh so perfectly.

and you cum again, and again, and again, until he’s finally satisfied. you think that you’ve melted into a puddle on the bed when he finally pulls away from you, pink tongue flicking out to lick the slick that stains his face. you’d think it a little gross if it weren’t for the fact that he just sent you to heaven and back about 5 different times—you’re a little too tired to really care. that, and… maybe it was a little sexy. maybe.

“doing okay, little sparrow?” jing yuan asks gently, a large hand sliding up your body and cupping your face as he leans over you to press a sweet kiss to your lips. when he pulls away, his golden eyes stare so deeply into yours as he takes in your current state—breathless, boneless, your doe eyes full of love and adoration for him. something in his gaze darkens. you hadn't even noticed the hand previously cupping your face was drifting down to loosely wrap around your throat.

“don’t tell me you’re done yet.”

the way his voice darkens sends a chill down your spine. you’re helpless to his whims, too—you’re oh so sweetly lying out for him like a prize, tits on display as your chest rises and falls with every breath, legs spread so wide for him, accommodating his broad form in between. he smiles down at you, a soft laugh rumbling through his chest that has an undercurrent of sinfulness that has your core throbbing despite everything.

he’s going to push you to your limit—prod at it until you almost break—and then some more. and you find yourself anticipating it with bated breath, eager to see just what the general has in store for you.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

#honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader #jing yuan smut #jing yuan x reader #jingyuan smut #jingyuan x reader #☆ oakie writes #☆ c.jing yuan

[flowersforjude]

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | A night in a beautiful meadow and an innocent question leads to a startling confession.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1,422

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Literally none. Just an oblivious reader and nervous Din. Fluff rised to the max.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Guy’s, this made me weep with how cute it is. So, just fair warning I guess?

masterlist | read on ao3

Like most things, it started with a simple question.

“Cyar’ika, can you hand me that wrench?”

You were helping Din with some repairs on the Crest when you heard that word for the hundredth time.

As you picked up the tool, your mind wrestled with the wandering thoughts of what that word meant. Din called you that all the time. He’d throw some others in the mix every once in a while.

Mesh’la.

Cyar.

Cyar’ika was the most common, though. You didn’t speak a bit of Mando’a, so you had no clue what he was calling you. He could be calling you the worst thing ever, and you wouldn’t even know. But even with his rough exterior, you highly doubted that he was referring to you as anything too horrible.

With every cyar, mesh’la, or cyar’ika your curiosity grew. But you didn’t voice your questions out of fear that you’d overstep some invisible boundary. You and Din were close—well, as close as the Mandalorian would let himself get to you. He’d told you his true name, so you counted that as progress. He still had so many secrets, though. So you didn’t want to push him to reveal stuff he wasn’t ready for. You would take whatever he’d give you. You would have him, however you could.

But sometimes your interest was almost too much.

Like at daybreak when he would touch your shoulder oh so gently and say, “Good morning, cyar.” In that deep, velvety cadence his voice had in the mornings.

Or when you’d just had a close call on a mission and he would rush to you, frantic, and place his hands on your cheeks. “Are you alright, cyar’ika? Are you hurt?” The words would leave his lips in a hurry and sometimes jumble together. You knew what he was saying nonetheless.

It was those moments when he showed you gentleness, concern, and care that you found it hard not to blurt out everything on your mind.

“What does cyar’ika mean?”

“What does cyar and mesh’la mean?”

“Do you know what it does to me when you touch me?”

“Do you love me as much as I love you?”

But you kept quiet and let the thoughts mingle in your mind. You were just going to leave well enough alone. Hoping that possibly ignoring your curiosity would make it, and your developing feelings fade away. That proved to require arduous effort, which you found yourself lacking day by day. And eventually, your efforts proved to be in vain.

The night it happened, the Crest had landed on some forest planet. Din had just wrapped up a difficult hunt, so he perched the ship on the first globe he could. You and the kid had been cooped up inside for days now, so as soon as the hatch opened, you were both bounding down from the cockpit.

The kid ran into the tall grass of the field, chasing frogs and crickets with the moonlight guiding his expedition. You stood close to the ship, just watching him with a loving smile. Din came to stand beside you, quite as ever, but his presence was a comfort you relished in far too much.

The first blink of light had you curious. The second and third and fourth flashes had you in awe.

The serene meadow was set ablaze with glittering brightness. Fireflies floated high and low, strung about the tall grass like hundreds of flawless silvery stars. They blanketed the grassland far and wide, down to the glimmering lake in the distance.

“Oh wow,” you breathed. You ventured farther out into the plain, turning in a slow circle, absolutely awestruck.

You could hear the child’s gurgling laughter from nearby. You couldn’t help the giggle that erupted from your throat. The dazzling excitement from the whole experience makes you somewhat astounded. You've never seen anything like this before. Something so beautiful.

You face Din, still standing guard at the front of the ship. “Isn’t this spectacular?” You questioned.

You could hear the airy chuckle get past his vocoder. “It’s certainly something.”

You rolled your eyes in a very childish manner and tilted your head in confusion. “How could you think this is anything but…what’s the word for beautiful in Mando’a?”

You’ve caught his full attention now, seemingly catching him off guard. He appears stunned beyond words. Beyond thoughts as well perhaps. You don’t understand why. It was just a simple question, but it seemed to have knocked any rational notion from him.

What you don’t know is that while you look at him with such sincerity in your eyes and you wait slightly nervous for his response, his brain is nothing short of a mess.

“Din,” you begin. “If I’ve crossed a line somehow-”

“The word is mesh’la.”

That stops you short. Your heart thudded to a halt for several seconds as you took in the sudden confession.

“Mesh’la,” you repeat softly.

You have no idea that his knees almost buckle at the sound of your voice speaking in his mother tongue.

Your face heats at the implication. Mesh’la means beautiful. Din calls you Mesh’la. Din calls you beautiful. He thinks you're beautiful? Or was it meant as something like a courtesy? Was he just being a flirt? No, Din wasn’t the type. So he must think it if he calls you it.

“Y/N.”

You speak up before he can get another word out. “You think I’m beautiful?”

He nods. “Yes.”

A grin tugs your lips up ever so slightly. Realization dawns on you as your mind recalls all the affectionate exchanges that you fooled yourself into thinking were merely friendly.

A coo from below takes your attention for a moment. The kid is at your feet with his arms stretched up for you. You hold him in the crook of your elbow as you close the distance between you and Din. When you stop in front of him, a radiant smile is permanently placed upon your lips.

“And uh, cyar’ika,” you whisper. “What does that mean…?” You’re a little hesitant to let all your questions come to light. A small part of you still worried you’re reading too much into it.

He takes a deep breath, and you try to ignore the anxiety coursing through you. “Cyar’ika…” He’s never sounded this breathless before. “It means sweetheart.”

The blood rushes to your cheeks with a new fury, painting your skin scarlet. It terrifies you a little that you can’t see his face, that you can’t read the expressions he is wearing right now. You think you know where this is going, but not being able to sense the situation from the other person makes it hard to be sure. You can see that he’s tense, possibly waiting for you to tell him that you were uncomfortable. But you weren't; you were a nervous wreck, but you were not uncomfortable with this knew information in the slightest. You were trying to figure out how to move forward with this without seeming like a lovesick fool.

After waiting an eternity trying to get a hold of yourself, you make a decision. You slowly bring your hands up to him, gently gliding along his arms until they reach the broad expanse of his shoulders, and then the cool surface of his helmet.

You can feel his panic, but you softly sush him. Eventually, your hands still on the side of his helmet, where you imagine his cheeks would be. You picture them flushed like yours. Even through the impenetrable beskar, you feel like the heat of his skin is melting into yours. You imagine how it would actually feel to be skin to skin with him. If you ever had the privilege to experience that, you were sure you could die happy.

What happens next is a surprise. Din clutches your hands in his and brings them down between you both. He then slowly touches his forehead to yours. The shock of cold metal draws a gasp from your lips.

“Ni ganar hid ner kar'taylir darasuum teh gar par chaaj'yc too munit, cyar’ika.” A whispered admission comes from him.

You can’t help but laugh as you have no clue what he said. “What?”

He chuckles along with you. “I said that I have hidden my love from you for far too long, sweetheart.”

Your heart cracks open with so many emotions that it’s overwhelming. It aches inside you, but the pain is welcome because you’d rather have this, him, than the uncertainty you lived in for so long.

I poured over this for days, and I still feel like something isn't right. But oh well, maybe it'll come to me later. 🤷‍♀️

#pedro pascal #the mandolarian #the mandolorian x reader #the mandolorian x you #the mandolorain imagine #din djarin #din djarin x y/n #din djarin imagine #din dijarin x reader #star wars #star wars imagine

[jeannineee]

Kinktober Day Eight: Face-sitting

Ruhn Danaan x Reader

a/n: day 8 of kinktober. Y’all know the drill, comment below or DM if you wanna be tagged

warnings: smut of course, oral f receiving, Ruhn uses his mind-speaking ability

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

Ruhn laughed, running his hands along your thighs as you straddled his waist. “You won’t, princess.”

“What if you can’t breathe?”

Ruhn shrugged. “Then I’ll die happy.”

You glared.

“I will mind-speak if I need you to let up,” Ruhn said, running his hands over the curve of your ass. “But I know I won’t need you to,” he added with a cheeky grin.

You sighed, but didn’t stop him as Ruhn guided you up his body, until your cunt hovered over his face. You guided your hands to the headboard, nervousness churning in your gut.

“You have to sit, princess,” Ruhn said, something like impatience sounding in his words.

“But what if—oh.”

Your protest was cut off with a choked moan as Ruhn gripped your thighs, firmly seating you on his face. He licked a long stripe through your folds, before wrapping his lips around your clit.

“Ruhn, fuck—Ruhn.” His name left your lips repeatedly as he worked his tongue, swirling it around your entrance as his nose nudged your clit.

His hands groped your ass, guiding you to grind on his face. You shuddered as he did so, pleasure coursing through your body in tidal waves.

“You look so pretty like this,” Ruhn spoke into your mind. “So needy for me.”

You cried out as he dragged his lip ring over your clit, attaching his lips to the swollen bud and sucking fervently. You couldn’t form words as that familiar heat began coiling within you, but Ruhn didn’t need you to. He knew your body like the back of his hand.

“Gonna come on my tongue, princess?” His voice sounded through your mind.

You managed a nod; reduced to little more than a whimpering mess above him. Ruhn mind-spoke again just as your orgasm crested, “That’s it, princess. Give it to me. That’s it.”

Ruhn lapped at your cunt like a starving male, coaxing your through the aftershocks. As you caught your breath, you attempted to pull away, but his grip remained tight.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

taglist: @azriels-shadowsinger @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @bbycowboi @ghostofnightcrawlerpast @fendyr @thegirlintheshadows101 @icey--stars @exoahgasebby @cassiefromhell @missusbarnes-rogers @danikamariewrites @cmay25 @anpacax0 @georgiastars13 @hannzoaks @impossibelle @harrystylesfan2686 @bookishbroadwaybish @girl-who-writes-stuff @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @iron-collector-traveler @captainsbaby @strawberryshortcake143 @glitterypirateduck

#crescent city #Ruhn danaan #kinktober #kinktober2023 #Ruhn x reader #Ruhn smut #Ruhn Danaan smut #Ruhn Danaan x reader #hosab #hoeab #hofas

[stardust-kenobi]

A Good Night's Rest

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Din was your best friend, but you wanted him to be so much more. Turns out he feels the same way.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: SMUT, drinking, helmetless din, virgin!reader, SOFT MANDO <3

A/N: we will all collectively just pretend there’s a little guest room in the razorcrest, otherwise everyone’s fuckin on the cold floor ok and we cannot allow it.

“Dammit” You cursed at the dreaded transmitter that was probably older than you were.

Being a mechanic had its perks, but it truly had its challenges, too. Especially when you’d been assigned long-term work on a ship as old as the Razor Crest. Of course, a perk to that would be traveling with a Mandalorian. It was a rough couple of months getting him just to hold a conversation with you, but almost a year later, you'd never been more connected or closer to anyone else in your whole life. He was undoubtedly your best friend.

“Don’t worry about it. That thing has never worked right” Din said, startling you as he entered the cockpit. He was dismissive of the transmitter, which was all the more reason you wanted to fix it.

Sighing out in frustration, you accepted defeat. For now, anyways.

“I’ll get it figured out eventually” You assured him.

“If you say so" He chuckled softly.

"Are you doubting my capabilities?" You teased him.

"No, I am doubting the probability of that thing ever working again"

"That's fair" You smirked before looking back to your unfinished work.

"How are the engines looking? Are we good to go?" He asked.

"Yep. Everything else is looking good. Are we leaving tonight?"

"I'd like to get a good night's rest first. We can leave in the morning" He confirmed, leaning against the metal siding of the cockpit.

"Sounds good to me" You smiled back softly, subtly admiring his stance beside you.

"I'll probably go to bed soon" Din said, his sleeplessness showing itself in his voice.

A fun idea crept into your mind.

"Why waste such a perfect night to break this baby in?" You giggled as you pulled the bottle of liquor from the cabinet in the cockpit.

"How did you get that?" He said with a head tilt, questioning where and when you had the opportunity to acquire alcohol.

You raised your brows and shrugged your shoulders, "I stole it"

"Well, I assumed that" Din iterated, taking the bottle into his hand and observing the label, "but I am not surprised"

You watched as he looked around, as if trying to find some reason why he shouldn't indulge in some light drinking with his best friend tonight.

"I'll just be drinking all by myself, if you're not joining me" You raised your eyebrows at him.

"Fine” He gave in, sitting himself down in the pilot’s seat next to you in the copilot’s seat.

For a little while, you two indulged in the intoxicating effects of the liquor. You knew your limits and so did he. You stopped just before feeling your inhibitions slip away but felt fuzzy enough inside to enjoy the feeling.

Respectfully, you opted to look away whenever he took a sip, so as to not catch a glimpse of even his chin as he tipped the liquor into his mouth. His movements were slow as he set his glass down, and with your peripheral vision, you noted that he was done. With all the time you’d spent around him, you couldn’t actually imagine him actually having a face, he was just a helmet with a gentle voice. But you loved him.

Oh stars, you loved him…

The chances of him feeling the same were slim, but one more sip and you might just tell him.

As you stared at him, you were met with flashbacks of one particular night not too long ago. Din had accidentally walked in on you masturbating, and you didn’t notice he was there until a couple of seconds had passed. He couldn’t make himself look away from you in such a state, but the guilt of unintentionally invading your privacy ate at him every day since. Since that night, things had been a little bit awkward between you two

Not a single word was exchanged between you two, he just slowly walked out. You probably didn’t come out of your room for another day, and even now, you still hadn’t talked about it.

What he didn’t know it was him you were thinking about while you pleasured yourself.

“This stuff is…” You began, holding the bottle out and tilting your gaze at it.

“Strong?” Din finished your sentence.

“Very” you giggled in response.

Din stared at you for what felt like forever, the tension pulling tighter between your gazes. There was something so odd about the way his head pointed in your general direction just gave you butterflies. You wished so desperately to look into his eyes for real.

“I, um” He began, tripping on his own words before his thoughts were fully developed.

“What is it?” You tilted your head.

He paused, and looked at the ground, before turning back to you.

“I need to sleep” He sighed.

“Okay. It just seemed like you were going to say something?”

Please let him say that he loves you too.

“I don’t think I’ve drank enough to say it”

“Maybe I have” You pondered. It spilled off your tongue like honey, “I'm in love with you"

Okay where the fuck did that confidence come from?

He was still. More still than usual, if that were even possible. The thumping of your heart against the restraints of your chest rang terribly loud in your ears. If he’d said anything in the seconds that followed, you wouldn’t have even heard it. Any attempt to read his emotions was blocked by the shining reflection of his visor.

But he was silent, and you could only guess why…he didn’t feel the same way about you.

“I’m..” He tried to begin, but fell short of his words.

“Don’t” You began as mortification consumed you, “don’t say anything”

He remained stoic, and painfully quiet. Providing no goodbye or goodnight, you got up and made your way to your quarters on the Crest. Din didn’t stop you. He didn’t flinch, in fact, he barely breathed.

The frigid metal against your arms shot chills down your spine as you leaned against the door you had just closed behind you to your room.

The distant sounds of his footsteps carrying across the ship, led right to your door very shortly after you stormed off.

"Y/N" His soft, modulated voice rang the other side of the door, following a gentle knock.

What do you even say to him now that you've confessed something so bold to someone you're in such close proximity to all the time?

You slowly pulled the door open and were met with Din’s towering figure.

"I'm in love with you, too" He admitted quickly.

Now you found that it was you whose words were failing them. A choked breath hitched in your throat as you processed what he said.

"Y-you do?" You stuttered in disbelief.

"Yes. I did not know what to say before. I wasn't expecting you to say that" He said softly, his tone growing timid.

You stepped back and let him enter your crowded quarters, which truly was only enough space for your small bed and a cabinet. The forced proximity to him heightened the tension even further. You sat on the edge of your bed, and he mirrored you, finding only inches of space next to you.

"I want to kiss you" You blurted softly.

"I want to kiss you too, Y/N. I'm sorry I can't" He responded, cautiously placing his hand on your knee.

"I know what you can do" You suggested.

Your trembling fingers wrapped around the gloved material of his hand and guided it in between your legs. There was no resistance from either of you, but you sensed his nerves as well as your own.

The shifting of your hips told him you wanted him to move. He rubbed against your aching and sensitive bud through the rough of your pants. You wanted him bare against your skin, but you knew this needed to be slow.

Too shy to just let him watch the look of pleasure upon your face, you buried your head into his shoulder while he rubbed your clit. He groaned as you let a faint whimper escape you…a sound he’d only dreamed of hearing before.

"Are you sure?" He begged for reassurance.

"Are you?" You countered him.

“Yes” He assured with no hesitation, like he’d been waiting for you for years.

“I’ve never done this before” You muttered lowly, ashamed to admit it, but knowing it was necessary for him to be aware that you were a virgin.

“Ever?” He leaned back.

You shook your head in confirmation.

Din froze in his tracks, halting his rhythmic motions at your core. You worried he wouldn’t want to be your first. You worried it would be too much pressure for him to make it special for you.

He pulled away completely.

Something you’d never seen him do before caught your immediate attention. Slowly, his fingers curled underneath the bottom edge of his helmet and lifted it from his head. He didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Din what are y-”

You couldn’t even remember to breathe as his face came to view. His brown hair lay so perfectly pressed to his head, restricted for so long by the constraints of his mask. He wasn't a stranger. This wasn't unfamiliar. It was him.

And he was beautiful.

His creed meant nothing to him in that moment…the moment he finally was able to stare into your eyes for real. Nothing mattered to him except you. A lump grew quickly in your throat, and you welcomed it as a tear fell from your eye.

"You deserve for this to be special, Y/N. You deserve to look into the eyes of the man who loves you"

The rapid fire of your beating heart skipped over itself. His voice was smooth and raw...and scared. His entire life has been spent hiding away from everyone he has ever cared about behind that helmet. But now...he truly sees you.

"Din" You breathed.

The second that his lips brushed against yours, the world around you fell silent. Fingertips trailed along your jaw before moving to wrap themselves in your hair. Din was delicate and careful. He worried he'd break you if he didn't control his desire that had pent itself up for months of being near you.

You were tremendously overwhelmed with surprise and butterflies, which fueled your hunger for him as he found familiarity in your lips, and pressed harder into the kiss. His trembling hand returned in between your legs, applying pressure against your clit through your pants.

Din was no stranger to sex, but he was a stranger to your body, and a stranger to loving you in the way he was always aching to.

“I’m going to take care of you, Y/N” Din whispered against your lips.

He motioned for you to lie back, and guided you with his arm pressed gently into the curve of your back. You fiddled with the clasp of your pants, but his hand replaced your own and successfully unfastened it. You worked to remove them, but Din helped you peel them down your legs.

Nothing could have pulled your admirable gaze away from him. There were no words to describe how beautiful he was. Din hovered above you, staring right back in disbelief of having you beneath him like this. Your fingertips traced the line of his jaw, your palm finally resting against the scruff of his cheek. His eyes fell shut, being so touch-starved that he melted in your grasp.

Din knew that he wanted to stay like this forever, but he also knew how badly he needed to be inside you. As he stood to his feet and removed his armor, revealing the soft material beneath it that clung to his skin, your thighs clenched together in anticipation. With his continued help, he carefully lifted your shirt above your head, revealing you wore nothing beneath it. The guttural moan that grazed your ear when he saw your breasts sent a wave of heat between your legs.

His finger looped around the hem of your panties and awaited your confirmation before eagerly removing them.

You were nervous. Stars you were so nervous. Somehow you found comfort in studying his face, watching his reaction to seeing your exposed body on display for him.

Your lips intertwined again. The supple caress of his hand traveling up your thigh sent chills down your spine. It only took one light touch against your folds for him to feel how bad you wanted him. Suddenly you felt one finger slide inside of you.

He broke away from devouring your lips, “Is this okay?”

“Yes” You breathed.

What he did with his fingers felt beyond anything you’d ever done to yourself. He curled his finger as he pumped it in and out of you, savoring the sound of your slickness wrapped around his digits. You grinded against his hand, signaling him to move faster.

Din watched you, enamored with your expression and how you melted for him just by the touch of his hand. Stars began forming in your eyes as the haze of your orgasm crept up slowly. Din felt the walls of your cunt tightening slightly as he went faster.

“It feels so good, Din, please don’t stop”

And he didn’t stop. Stars, he’d do anything you asked of him. Especially now.

With the arching of your back, Din knew you’d reached your release. You cried out for him, digging your nails into the skin of his neck, shutting your eyes tight, overwhelmed with pure pleasure.

“Look at me, cyar’ika” He instructed. Your eyes flew up to stare deep into his beautiful brown eyes.

Your release overtook your entire body, sending a heated flash of vibration across your skin, tingling and centering at the thrusts of his fingers.

“There you go sweetheart, you’re doing so good” He praised.

You rode out your high as he talked you through it. Unable to fathom the total ecstasy you were feeling. Your breathing was heavy as you floated back down, and you then realized how tightly your hands were gripping his body. As you flashed him a smile, he softly smiled back, his eyes scanning your body and face.

As you reached for his pants, he hurriedly removed his shirt followed by his pants, now leaving him completely bare for you too. You stared at his cock, impressed by his size, and clenched your cunt around nothing as your body begged for him.

You spread your legs for him, as his hips situated themselves to fit perfectly between them.

“I’ll go as slow as you need me to” he assured you, “I don’t want to hurt you”. Just then, the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, before he finally buried himself completely inside of you. A whimper of slight discomfort escaped you, and Din planted a soft kiss upon your open mouth to soothe you. You were so tightly wrapped around him that he almost lost it immediately. It was such a wonderful new feeling to experience being this close to Din.

Your body adjusted itself quicker than you anticipated to his size. He began to thrust slowly, still giving you time to relax. A lustful whimper fell from your lips, showing Din that you were experiencing pleasure rather than pain now. Once his thrusts found perfect and steady rhythm inside you, he began to moan softly with you. 

Your eyes meet and lock on each other while he continues to curl his hips passionately into yours.

“Does that feel good, Y/N?” He moaned and kissed your neck gently.

“Yes, Din” You managed to mumble through your new feeling of pleasure.

The sensation of him filling you was overwhelming, and your skin burned with such a wonderful fire. You were sure that you’d never get enough of his lips against yours.

“You are so beautiful, cyar’ika” He whispered, his hand traveling down between your breasts, familiarizing himself with the feeling of your skin against his. Taking one of your breasts into his hand, he squeezed it gently.

“Harder” You begged him. He looked at you with uncertainty, but wouldn’t dare deny you.

He began fucking you faster, now. As his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot inside you with every snap of his hips, your moans grew louder and more intense. Din loved every sound you made. He was quieter than you, but his whimpering was music to your ears.

“Y/N, I won’t last much longer” He faltered in his thrusts as he got close to his release.

You nodded and pulled his face into yours, kissing him hard. Your lips against his pushed him over the edge. His fist gripped the sheets as he came, his moans deeper and louder than before.

“Fuck, Y/N” He cried out.

The warmth of his release coated your walls, and you cherished the feeling of truly being filled by him. All of him.

The room was filled with only the sound of your beating hearts and the gradual rate of your breathing coming down to normal. Din was careful when he removed himself from you, and the second he did, you already missed feeling him so close. He lay next to you, your warm bodies still pressed close to each other. The silence between you spoke louder than any words you could manage to speak.

“Are you okay?” He asked while caressing your cheek.

You smiled warmly at him. There was a soreness you felt inside, but it was a sensation you welcomed if it meant that Din was the one to take your virginity.

“I’m more than okay” You assured him, “that was everything I ever hoped it would be”

“I love you, Y/N” He said sweetly, warming your soul as he said it.

“I love you, too”

———————

Taglist: @lokigirlszendaya

#din djarin #mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #mandalorian fluff #mandalorian fic #my work #stardust-kenobi #the mandalorian s3 #season 3 #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction #din x reader #din djarin x reader smut #mando x reader #mando x reader smut #mando x reader fluff

[kamotecue]

Ooo we’re gonna need a KCC fic after her move to the arsenal

my heart has a little crush on you ✮ k. cooney-cross

pairing: kyra cooney-cross x reader

summary: it’s not a secret that you developed a small crush over a certain midfielder at the world cup, when you played against them. lioness!reader

warning(s): mentions of suicide.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“you’re absolutely joking?” you asked leah who gave you a small smirk that you desperately wanted to get rid of.

“i’m not kidding, l/n. kyra just signed a two year deal with arsenal, it seems you’d be seeing your crush sooner or later.” leah said. you haven’t checked your instagram yet, so you’ve heard from your skipper about kyra’s transfer.

despite leah not playing at the world cup, she was like an older sister figure for you. she’s the only one who knows about your crush on the australian midfielder.

“i’m absolutely screwed.” you said, as leah chuckled at your reaction.

“oh, come on l/n. it can’t be that bad?” you groaned as you thought about what happened at the world cup.

you had defeated the matildas in the semi-finals, when the whistle had blown you watched as your team celebrated. but you had taken the chance to comfort them, they did great after all, and the future is bright for the matildas.

you wanted to exchange shirts with kyra but when you were in front of her, you had tripped on the pitch sending the two of you to the ground.

“i accidentally tripped lee, sending both of us to the ground!” you yelled as leah grinned at you.

“but you still ended up getting the shirt.” you gave her a look, that was not the point. the point was your first interaction with her was bad, like really bad.

“yeah, it was still a mess.” you said, as she just shook her head.

it wasn’t that long before the team returned to london, after training at the adidas headquarters in germany.

you were late for the first time, as you swung open the door, you came face to face with leah who gave you teasing look.

“look who’s late.” katie teased giving you a grin, as you rolled your eyes at her behavior.

“it’s too early, mccabe.” you told the irish full-back as she snickered but held her hands up. you looked at lia who gave you a comforting smile, which you returned.

you removed your coat as it’s a bit chilly outside, not noticing a certain aussie behind you.

“you have a tattoo?” you accidentally had dropped your boots on your feet, a wince escaped your throat as lotte gave you a certain look.

you turned around coming face to face with the aussie who had been occupying your mind. she had a soft smile wore on her face, her dimples were shown which made you swoon.

“yeah, it’s the moon meets the stars.” you felt a lump in your throat as you cleared it. it wasn’t just a tattoo, there was a meaning behind it.

you felt leah’s eyes on you as she knew the meaning behind it. you didn’t like talking about it, because it reminded you about the past.

“is there a meaning behind it?” kyra asked, as you heard someone stood up abruptly.

“maybe one day, you’ll find out cooney-cross.” you said, as you pulled over the work out tank top that had the arsenal crest.

“alright guys, let’s head onto the pitch. it’s time for training.” kim said, as she entered the locker room clapping her hands. you gave kyra a small smile, before heading to leah who gave you a pat on the back.

throughout the whole training, you were a bit more quiet than usual. the team noticed it as you had a few sloppy shots on target, but had perfect first touches, you possessed the ball very well.

but they never scolded you for it, sure they gave you a look that you received, yet it was just that. as the training came to a break, you laid on the pitch. an arm was behind your neck, supporting it while your other arm was over your eyes, blocking the sun.

“are you alright, y/n?” kyra asked, as you removed the arm only to see her taking a seat beside you.

“i’m alright, you?” kyra gave you a soft nod, as she answered your question.

“i’m great, it’s a dream to be playing here.” you gave her a soft nod, understanding her. you couldn’t believe it when arsenal had offered you a three year contract, you currently have a year left once this season ends.

“i didn’t overstep, did i? when i asked you about the tattoo?” you shook your head, as you sat up straight.

“you didn’t, kyra don’t worry. the tattoo is for my bestfriend who died because she committed. i got this to honor her.” you said, as your voice broke at the end. kyra’s eyes widened.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know.” you chuckled, giving kyra a soft smile who looked a bit confused.

“it’s alright, you don’t have to apologize. like you said you didn’t know.” she gave you a lopsided grin, as you tilted your head.

“would you perhaps want to go out one day?” kyra asked as you looked at her a bit confused.

“like on a date?” your eyes widened, as kyra gave you a small smile.

“when we were against each other, you caught my eyes. it was hard trying to not look at you.” kyra said, as you gave her a soft smile.

“i’d love to, you also did caught my eyes cooney-cross.” you said, as you spent the rest of the break making a small conversation, not noticing the way your teammates looked at you.

steph and caitlin were talking, as leah looked at you with a proud grin.

#kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross imagine #kyra cooney cross x reader #auswnt x reader #matildas x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #arsenal wfc imagine

[deakyjoe]

In Sickness & In Health

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no pronouns used but Din does call Reader “cyar’ika”)

Category: sick fic, fluff

Summary: Din cares for you when you're sick.

Warnings: sickness/illness, Grogu being a menace, Din being awkward, cuddling, hurt/comfort, fluff basically

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: I am recovering from a cold.

Consider buying me a coffee :)

You'd woken up sick, quite possibly in the worst condition of your life. Your limbs ached, your head was pounding, your stomach turned at every tremor of the Crest, your throat was sore and you could barely breathe through your nose. Death felt like it was approaching you at any second.

Din insisted that you were being dramatic.

He was sure that you'd just picked up a minor illness from the last planet you'd stopped on for supplies and would recover in a couple of days. He told you to rest and to stay away from Grogu as much as possible, unsure of the strength of the child's immune system.

Which would have been easy considering all you wanted to do was curl up into a tiny ball in the dark and sleep. Unfortunately, the kid was just a little too curious in nature and wanted to see what was wrong with you. And he wouldn't take no for an answer. This caused Din to lock him away in the cockpit with a shiny ball to occupy him for the majority of the time while you recovered. 

"I feel bad." You told your travelling companion after Grogu had been shut away.

"You'll feel worse if you give him this disease and he dies." The Mandalorian replied, handing you an extra blanket after assuring you that it was fine that you used his bunk to sleep in.

Your eyes widened in fear, heart beating rapidly in your chest suddenly. "I thought you said this was a common illness!"

"Yes, but he is only a child." He sighed, gesturing for you to lie down. "You will be fine. Now go to sleep."

You mumbled to yourself lowly but did as he said anyway, drifting into a dreamless sleep once Din had closed the door.

You awoke some time later, sweat pouring out of you in floods as you burned as hot as a supernova. In your delirious fevered state you got out of the bunk, laid down on the floor of the hull and fell asleep again.

When you woke up again, a few hours later you assumed, you could feel something touching you.

As your eyes cleared, you realised that Din was sat beside you on a crate patting your head.

Your brows raised in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Soothing you." He mumbled through the modulator.

"By doing this?" You croaked, glancing up to where his wrist hovered above your eyes.

He paused. "Do you... do you not like it?"

"Don't dislike it." You said. "It's just a little strange."

"The kid likes it."

"Do I look like a green baby with large ears to you?"

He hesitated.

"Don't answer that." You grumbled, turning to bury your face in the thin blanket you'd dragged to the floor with you.

"You were talking in your sleep. I thought it might help."

"Oh." You whispered, embarrassed about what you might have said.

"It was mostly incoherent mumbling."

"Oh." Thank the stars.

"Mostly." There was a hint of teasing amusement to his voice which you were terrified to question.

But you did anyway. "What does that mean? What did I say?"

He ignored your questions. "You should get back into bed."

"Too hot."

"Get back into bed, cyar'ika." He insisted, holding a gloved hand out to help you up.

You did as he said, too tired to argue anymore.

"I'll come back to check on you in a while." Din told you before disappearing to the cockpit again.

You faded in and out of sleep before the Mandalorian came back with a bowl of soup and a restless Grogu at his side a little later.

Worry plagued your mind momentarily as you cautiously eyed the kid. "I don't want to get him sick."

"He missed you." Din replied with a small shrug, handing you the bowl and a spoon.

You smiled down at the kid weakly, glad to see him. He was a nice presence to have around, almost always happy about something. The Mandalorian was the opposite in that regard - always unhappy about something, apart from the child, but was still a nice presence to have around. Overall, the combination of the both of them was making you feel better. A lot better. There was no one else you'd rather spend your sick days with.

The three of you ate in silence, just the occassional babble of nonsense from Grogu as he slurped down his dinner. The warm food made your throat hurt less but despite its temperature, you started to get cold.

You wrapped the blanket more tightly around yourself in the hope that it would help but had little success. So you distracted yourself by watching Din and Grogu interact instead. Maybe the warm feeling they created in your heart would extend to the rest of your body.

The dull hum of the ship combined with the quiet mumbled, very much one-sided, conversation between the two other members of the clan caused you to grow sleepy again. Which Din quickly noticed when your eyelids started drooping and your head lolled to the side a couple of times. So he swiftly put the child to bed and sent him back to the cockpit before returning to you.

"You should go back to bed." He stated, noticing your intense grip on the blanket as he sat you down on the end of his bunk. "What's wrong?"

"I'm cold." You confessed, even though it was pretty obvious by your violent shivering and chattering teeth. "Freezing actually."

Din did nothing for a moment, just stared at you and seemingly contemplated something if the way his fingers twitched at his sides was any indication, before hitting a switch and plunging the hull into darkness.

"What are you doing?" You blinked, suddenly feeling more awake as you tried to adjust to the lack of light.

"Sshh." He replied, the clang of metal on metal punctuating the word for him.

Was he... was he undressing?

"Din, stop."

"I said sshh." His voice was clear, no muffling from a modulator or helmet. His face was out in the open.

You stayed silent until you felt hands land on your shoulders, letting out a small gasp at the contact.

"Lie down on your side." Din mumbled, gently pushing you back.

The protest you had prepared died on your tongue as you felt him crawl into the bunk beside you and settle down at your back as the two of you laid down. He got as close to you as possible, arms wrapping around you and legs tangling with yours.

"What're you doing?" You whispered despite relaxing back against him and embracing the heat he was radiating.

"Warming you up." He mumbled into the back of your neck, lips grazing your skin.

"No!" You whined, wriggling a little to attempt getting out of his grasp. "I don't want you to get sick."

"Don't breathe on me then." He answered simply, arms locking around you to hold you in place. "Now go to sleep."

You would've fought more, concerned with his health, if it wasn't for the fact that this position felt good. So good. He was warm and soft and you felt so safe and secure in his hold. Maybe just cuddling for a little while wouldn't be too risky. At least, that's what you told yourself as you fell into a deep slumber.

It only took a couple of days before rattling, shaky coughs could be heard echoing around the ship from a certain bounty hunter's modulator.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin my beloved #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fluff #mando fluff #mando fanfiction #ej’s writing #ej’s fics #deakyjoe’s writing #deakyjoe’s fics

[berryhobii]

More (kth x reader) a Drabble

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x black!female!reader

Warnings: smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), cowgirl position, I don’t mention it but they’re doing it in a chair, squirting, mentions of edging, mentions of orgasm denial, orgasms(f receiving), spanking

A/N: AHHHHHH! I’ve been so so busy with work and my baby that I’ve barely had time to write or proofread or post. I’ve also been in such a rut with my WIPs that I’ve been a little unmotivated but I’m sure I’ll be out of it soon🤕please send me your good energy. This is just a little drabble; it’s actually my Distracted Driver couple. If you haven’t read that, it’s okay. Essentially, Tae and reader are amateur p*rn stars. I’m thinking of just making a bunch of little drabbles for them. I scrap a ton of smut scenes that I can easily turn into straight up p*rn content for them. I’m working on it along with lots of new ideas so please bear/bare(?) with me. Happy Holidays to those who celebrate and have a wonderful day to those who don’t. Stay safe 🩵🩵I don’t describe reader in this so imagine them however you want!

~

Oh fuck baby!”

The loud clapping and wet noises could be heard down the block. With every bounce, your ass met his thighs in a deep bass similar to a gunshot. Paired with your gasps of air and moans, it sounded like you two were straight out of a porno.

Coincidentally, that’s just what the camera was filming so you must be doing a good job.

Taehyung’s hands were gripping you so hard that it hurt, your ass already on fire from the series of slaps he’s been landing on it all night. The tingling of the pain only fueled your pleasure further.

Your own hands were digging into his broad shoulders, manicured nails leaving thin scratch marks across his tan back.

“This pussy feels so good. So fucking tight.” He growled in your ear, his baritone sending sparks down your back. It only made more wetness leak from your pussy; sticky honey like arousal dripping down his cock and onto his thighs. Everything was so wet and hot and pulsing, temperature climbing and your pleasure beginning to crest.

His huge cock was pushing in and out of your velvet walls, being constricted by the tightness of your heat. You felt so much wetter than usual for some reason. Maybe it was the fact he had edged you for close to 30 minutes, pulling out right before you came, only to push back inside and do it all over again. You’d be getting your lick back for that later.

But now, he was struggling to hold back, his own orgasm settling in his balls.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” You cried, back arching as you began throwing yourself back harder on his cock. He groaned, slapping your ass again, own hips lifting to meet yours. The head of his cock brushed against the sweet spot deep inside of you again and again, cervix practically begging for his cum.

“Do it.” A slap to your ass, mouth sucking another hickey onto your throat. You sat up, eyes locking with his hooded ones. Fuck, he looked so sexy with his sweaty hair and the deep furrow of his brows. The clench of his jaw letting you know he was close. “Cum all over my cock.”

And you did. Hard enough for you to squirt. You screamed, lifting yourself from his cock to give the camera a full view of your wet pussy. Your legs shook from the force of your orgasm, Taehyung holding your ass cheeks apart to capture the moment.

You had barely come down from the body tingling orgasm before your pussy was begging for another one.

You leaned an arm back to fit his throbbing cock back inside your walls with a whisper of, “more.”

#bts #bts x black reader #bts smut #bts imagines #taehyung smut #bts fic

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You Can Run

Sequel to Come Out, Come Out and Wherever You Are

Warnings: noncon and violent elements. Warnings are not exhaustive. Please curate your reading accordingly.

Summary: You make a run for it.

As always, please, please, please, send me your thoughts and feedback, horny and otherwise! Love you all so much 💗

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Steve stands behind you, hands framing your head. He presents you to Bucky like livestock, stroking and petting your hair. “Problem with a pretty face is you can’t tell if it’s lying.”

Steve’s hands fall to your neck, closing around it but not squeezing.

“So, Buck, was my starshine a good girl?” 

Bucky gives a crooked smirk and he pushes his fingers through his thick locks. He exhales and tuts as he considers you. His eyes appraise every inch of you, naked to his gaze.  Steve’s forces your chin back up as you try to hide.

“She was a very good girl…” Bucky comes closer, a step at a time. “Once I found her.”

“Mm, she has a habit of hiding, doesn’t she?” Steve’s grip tightens until his fingers are flush to your throat, “tryna keep a good thing all to herself.”

“Captain,” you croak and he chokes the voice from you.

“I didn’t say you could talk,” he snarls. “Sergeant, you got any ideas?”

Bucky brings his metal hand up to his chin, giving a thoughtful stroke and slides his thumb up to his lower lip. He pushes against it and hums.

“If she likes to hide… I don’t mind finding her,” Bucky snickers, “we’re soldiers, we know how to track. But it never hurts to test our skills, huh?”

“Meaning,” Steve pulls you back against him.

“You remember where we took that hike… with the team? That big forest up a ways. Real easy to hide up there. Easier to get lost.”

“Oh?” Steve hums, “there’s no moon, Buck. That’s not practical.”

“I didn’t think we were being practical,” Bucky retorts, “but if you wanna be practical…” 

Bucky holds up his metal hand and stretches his fingers. Steve clucks and slowly drags his hands from your neck, trailing along your shoulders. His breath brushes over your hair as he leans in to plant a kiss on your crown.

“That’s the thing about my little star,” he snarls into your hair, “I’ll always find her light.”

⭐

You crash to your knees, a gust swirling over you as the metal slices into the trunk of a nearby tree. You can hardly see as you scramble across the forest floor, crawling away from where the shield’s embedded into the thick walnut. You have only a thin layer of silk to guard you against the night, the belt of the robe growing looser with each move.

You get to your feet, naked soles slipping on the leaves and dirt. You throw out your arms to keep your balance as you race into the dark. You keep your hands ahead of you to keep from crashing into some unseen barrier. You squint, the vague outline of the trees speckled all around.

“Is that a fawn I hear?” Bucky’s voice rises tauntingly above you, “or a little kitten?”

You gasp and hurl yourself forward, twisting and turning without direction. Your only purpose is to get away. To keep afoot. You cannot stop, you cannot hide. They will find you.

“Cute little kitten… thinks she can outrun a wolf,” Bucky chortles as you hear his steady, patient steps. He doesn’t run, he walks with a certain pace. He has no doubt as you’re swept up in all of yours.

You slip again, crashing into the soft ground, rolling down a small ditch. The silk parts, exposing your chest and stomach. You try to fix it as you puff and stagger to your feet. You tighten the knot and fall forward. You claw your way up the rise and crest the ridge.

“You sound scared, starshine,” Steve’s timbre wafts through the chill, “I can hear your heartbeat…”

“I hear it too,” Bucky’s voice counters from your other side.

You spin around, searching through the void, lashing out protectively. The world tilts and turns violently as you whimper and thrash your arms. 

“Please, please, don’t–”

“Run.”

Bucky’s breath tickles the back of your ear and you yipe. You obey without a thought. You sprint ahead, pumping your arms and length as you sob and race into the blackness. Your feet pound against the forest floor, twigs and pebbles cutting up your flesh.

He’s behind you. Running. You hear the steps just behind yours. Your chest burns and your nerves scatter. You hit a wall and bounces back, colliding into another behind you. 

You're crushed between the bodies of the men as they close in on you, grabbing as you robe as you weakly try to fend them off. You squeak and squeal as the robe falls away and the silk is peeled from your shoulders. The fabric pools at your feet, slipping beneath them as you kick up frantically.

Bucky loops his arms through yours and pulls them above your head. You whine as Steve’s calloused fingertips brush up your stomach and he gropes your chest. You squirm as he explores your naked flesh, thumbs rolling around your hard nipples and tracing between your tits.

“Guess it’s a tie?” Bucky purrs.

“Nah, I got her first,” Steve growls.

“Bullshit.”

“We can share.”

“You can have her mouth,” Steve grabs your chin.

Bucky brings his hand up, poking two fingers into your mouth as Steve squeezes your jaw. You nearly gag as Bucky pokes at the back of your tongue. You bite down on his metal digits and he hums. 

“Fine, one hole’s just as sweet as the next, right, sugarplum?”

Steve pulls his hand back and grips the back of your head. He shoves you forward till you bend, his other hand clasps around your hips as he keeps your ass against him. You smell the blood and scent that lingers on his dirty uniform.

He wiggles against you as Bucky cups your chin and brings your head up. You bat your lashes as hot tears well and spill over. You whine and quiver as you reach out to cling to his pants. The soft whisper of his zipper cuts through the din of the nocturnal forest.

His hard tip presses against your lips as he keeps his hold on you. He pushes into your mouth as you let him. You can’t fight. You’ve fallen into their trap. He slides into your throat and you suck in air around him.

Steve shifts behind you, his pants slackening as he leans against you. You feel his veiny length rub along your ass. He trails his tip down the curve of your flesh. You shiver as he glides down along your cunt and lines himself up.

"Can you feel how desperate she is for you?" Steve growls.

He inches into you as you let out a murmur around Bucky’s intrusion. You cling tighter to Bucky as he rocks and Steve dips deeper and deeper. Your walls clench him and your feet slip on the dirt. He steadies you as he builds his tempo. 

"I feel her shaking… sorry, I got a bit carried away Rogers, but you know how that pussy just begs for it," Bucky huffs.

The noise of your degradation echoes around you. Your heart hammers behind your ears as your blood sears through your veins. You can’t breath as they use you, back and forth, stretching and bending you to their will. You are nothing more than what they make of you.

Steve runs his hand up above your ass, a sharp tap as he ruts. Bucky wrenches your head back, sinking further in as he gags you. You babble helplessly as your face streams in futility.

Steve leans over you, ramming himself to his limit as he snakes his hand around your neck. Bucky pets your head as he groans. Steve purrs as the Bucky bulges in your throat. 

"Mmm, fuck, she takes it so good," Steve grits out, "why are you hiding, baby girl, when your body needs this?"

He pulls you back, sliding you off of Bucky. The other man grunts and exhales sharply as his wet dick prods your cheek. 

Steve wraps his thick arm around your neck and pulls you straight as he stands. He keeps you locked with his bicep as Bucky steps closer. 

Bucky lifts your left leg, hooking it over Steve’s free arm, before raising your other. He keeps it bent to your chest as he lines up with your entrance. You mewl as he slowly forces his way in. Your cunt stretches painfully around both of them, burning hotter the further he gets.

Both men bury themselves to their limit. You whimper and cough, throat still raw and ragged. You tilt your head back as Steve's arm curls tighter around your neck. 

You huff and heavy as they work in tandem, fucking into you, crushing you between their ruts. You bounce helplessly, muscles straining as every part of your clenches.

"Mm, baby girl," Steve moans, "you like that, don't you?"

"Huh, the captain isn't good enough. You need the sergeant too," Bucky teases, "that's it doll, you like to be used."

You shudder and shut your eyes against another wave of tears. You grasp Steve’s side and Bucky’s arm, trying to slow both of them. You cannot. You can only steel yourself against the barrage of their desire.

You plunge into the void of both world and mind. You let it consume you just as they do. The friction of bodies, the theft of your autonomy, the assault of your very being. The heroes that shine in light turn to monsters in the depths of the dark.

⭐

The sun rises through the window, casting a soft hue over the hungover scene. Limbs tangled in each other, body heat mingling to sweltering, a prison of flesh on either side of you. Steve’s arm is slung around your side as Bucky’s metal hand rests on your head, cradling your cheek, a gesture less gentle than it would look.

You can barely breathe as you watch the shadows tilt and fade over Bucky’s shoulder. You don’t move, not just for the fact that they won’t let you, rather the agony that coils around you. You are worn to the bone, stretched and stained by their hunger.

You tremble as Steve groans and his fingers crawl along your side. He nestles closer and presses his nose into your hair. As they’ve slept, you’ve lain in torturous consciousness. You cannot hide, not even in your own mind. Sleep is no escape, it cannot free you from the inevitable.

“Starshine,” he rasps as he kisses your crown, brushing his fingertips along your hip. He takes your hand in his and raises it. He plays with it, folding your thumb inward as he pushes his fingers between yours. “Wake him up.”

“Captain?” You murmur as you curl your fingers beside his.

“Go on, show him a good morning,” he goads as he leads your hand down, hovering it above Bucky’s dick, half-erect already.

You let him wrap your hand around Bucky’s length. He inhales abruptly but does not open his eyes. You watch his face as Steve guides you to his tip and back down to his base. He pumps your touch up and down until Bucky’s rigid and tense.

Bucky’s dark lashes part and he stretches his thumb under your chin, clutching your face tight as he groans. His lips curl slightly as a dimple pits in his cheek. You gasp as Steve lets you go, rescinding his hand to dip along your pelvis. He slips his fingers down and burrows between your folds, a current radiating from your clit to your nape.

“Don’t stop till he cums,” Steve snarls as his nails dig into your skin.

“Yes, Captain,” you reply as you watch Bucky’s face contort, blue eyes drowning you. 

It is better to obey than to hide. Easier to accept than deny. Just as you cannot fight these men, you cannot fight the fate they’ve confined you to.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #drabble #sequel #dark drabble #dark!drabble #mcu #marvel #captain america #winter soldier

[grogusmum]

Crash Into Me

alpha!DIN DJARIN X omega!F!READER

WORD COUNT 2100ish

WARNINGS: A/B/O Dynamics, omega reader in mild peril

A/N: The idea of Din discovering his alpha nature as an adult took hold of my brain and I couldn’t shake it, or write anything much else until I got it down, so here it is. I’ve never written a/b/o before and I don't read too much of it. So please be gentle with me. 

It starts out in third person, from Din’s pov and then switches to second person when the pov opens to both of you. 

It’s pretty fluffy (What? You say. Shocking, I know! Hazel replies.) and doesn’t contain smut. (I know, I know)

This here is a one-shot that could expand when and if inspiration strikes, if there is to be smut in its future, the Magic 8 Ball says “Reply hazy, try again”.

*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia. 

Din enters the local cantina. The job’s complete, but the kid needs to eat before they bring the bounty back to the client. He gently lifts Grogu out of his satchel and places him in a booth. Grogu coos and tries to climb onto the table.

“Hey don't do that, pal.”

A friendly-looking server comes up just as he settles himself and Grogu on one side of the booth with a ready warm smile.

“Welcome, traveler,” the server greets. Upon seeing Din settling Grogu beside him on the inside of the booth, she corrects herself sweetly, “I’m sorry, welcome travelers! Are you interested in eating or just a- ”

“Yes, thank you,” Din interjects. “Um, just for this one here.”

“Very well, the special today is fried gorg over pashi noodles.” she reaches over to point out a few items. Reaching past Din, as Grogu is playing with the single-page menu.

“Unfortunately we are out of roasted craw-maw and the ladnek bisque.” 

Din stills when her arm crosses him, below his helmet. His helmet filters out much in standard mode, but he catches a scent he has never experienced. His head swims slightly, normally he would turn on the extra filtration, but something in him wants more.

“Oh, I apologize for my reach, sir,” she pulls back realizing she has invaded his space.

“Don’t worry about it,” Din's voice is low, lower than usual. He is taken by surprise, it’s his ‘bring you in warm or cold voice’, without any of the menace. He clears his throat. And his server does the same, he looks at her properly for the first time. Warm eyes and very cute, pretty, he decides. Her moment of fluster pleases him in a way he doesn't understand and he tries to keep from puffing out his chest. Din thanks the stars for his helmet.

“He will take the gorg and noodles,” he says. “Enthusiastically.”  

Grogu watches this exchange closely.

“Very good!” her laugh is warm and genuine. Still smiling as she goes to the kitchen. Din wonders what that was all about and thinks of putting the extra filtration on again.But doesn't.

A busser delivers the food, Din thanks them politely, but can’t help but look past them to see where his server has gotten to.

Grogu digs in, just as his dad anticipated, with enthusiasm. Din is just happy he is eating a cooked gorg.

Quickly, Grogu is down to his last noodle.

“You ready, kid?” 

Grogu looks up and nods, making a little mrapp sound. Seeming full and content as Din lifts him off the bench and he sinks comfortably back into the satchel. 

After Din goes to settle up, he tells himself he is not put out at all that he didn't get to pay the pretty sever with the sweet smile and twinkling eyes directly, as he heads out the back. It's just the quickest way to the Crest. It has nothing to do with passing the kitchens. 

The crash of trash bins behind him catches Din’s attention, and he rounds the corner to investigate. He pulls up short, seeing her against the cantina wall, a hulking human looming. The bin lids continue rolling, then reverberating like cymbals. Her look of fear sends a kick of adrenaline through Din's system, and there is a rush in his ears. His growl shocks him. He has more control than this.

When her attacker looks in Din’s direction, she tries valiantly to take advantage and kick him. He is thrown off balance, yes, but it's not enough, and he quickly has her by the arm.

“I’m only going to say this once, let her go.” Din’s hand moved to his blaster.

“I’m only going to tell you once, to mind your business.”

Grogu ducks as Din draws his blaster. 

“Wait!” She shouts. 

“See the omega wants to go with me.”

“I do not,” she says, pulling away, but he clamps his hand harder, causing her to wince. 

Din is torn between seeing red at the pained expression on her face and the curiosity of this new information- what did he call her? Is that your name? Din holsters his blaster, his hands come to his hips. 

“Fine. It seems to me, Omega doesn’t want to go with you.” Din makes himself take up as much space as he can, and drops his voice further. Surprising himself yet again today, he adds “she wants to come with me.”

Confused and again relieved to be under his helm, for after saying such a presumptuous thing, Din can't keep from wincing just a little. Regardless, he stays in Bounty Hunter mode. The woman pulls away again and walks over to Din. He almost forgets about her assailant, watching her progress. Coming to him. Almost-

“It is Omega’s grace and not mine that you are still standing. I see you again, you won’t be so lucky,” Din says only after he has stepped in front of her, completely shielded her from view. 

When the other man is completely out of view, he turns and looks down at her. She is very close to him, eyes large. He catches a hint of that smell again. His thoughts lose focus-

“Omega,” he almost whispers. 

She looks, he isn't sure, concerned? Disappointed?

Then she tells him her name.

“Oh,” Din chuckles, it’s just a misunderstanding. He is taken aback at how relieved he feels. “I'm sorry- he called you Omega, I just assumed it was your name.”

Now, it is her turn to look confused, but then she smiles. 

“Can I escort you to your home or…”

“I thought I was going with you?” She says, a little cheekily.

Din flusters, but he is so curious about her and his feelings, that he makes no further comment, he just places a hand on her lower back and guides her in the direction of the Razor Crest. 

Grogu starts to fuss, reaching for this virtual stranger.

She looks at the baby and smiles-

“Do you want a carry?” 

Grogu coos and babbles, reaching animatedly.

“I don’t mind, if you don't.”

“Alright,” Din says and brings the satchel around to his front, and she scoops Grogu out. Grogu immediately clings to her shirt, telling a thrilling tale that usually only he, himself understands.  But Din watches her close. She listens in wrapped attention and laughs at seemingly all the right places.

Din can see her looking at him with curiosity, a question on her lips. He has plenty of his own.

The assailant had called her omega, but it's not her name. It stirs memories. He hadn't really thought about Aq Vetina, or the lessons the Mandalorians had taught him about his unique biology in years. 

This woman is not called Omega, she may be and omega. She might have omega physiology, but that would mean he is not what he thought… 

After the battle droid siege that took his parent from him, Din was taken from his homeworld by the Mandalorians before puberty. They understood Aq Vetina was peopled by Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, and knew that even out of their society, Din would have to understand what it all means. They not only taught him about what it is to be any of those designations, but instilled discipline so he would be able to marshal control over the base instincts that can disrupt his ability to function in non-a/b/o society such as the Child of the Watch and much of the galaxy. But not being part of the unique group of people they of course, couldn't tell Din what it felt like.

From what Din understands about it, he has always assumed he must be a beta. But when he thinks about it, he has never knowingly been in the presence of an alpha or an omega, the two designations that would inspire the strongest reactions. 

Lost in thought Din arrives at the Crest before he knows it. The Mandalorian hits a few buttons on his vambrace, lifting the security protocols, and lowering the gangway. He again guides his guest with a light hand on her lower back.

Din knows he should say something… 'welcome' or 'make yourself at home' comes to mind and is nixed immediately. He goes with-

"Watch your step."

She looks around. Her curiosity spurs her on but he can see, no feel, a guardedness too.

He reaches for Grogu, and the baby reaches back, then squawks in indignation when he is placed in his hammock.

"Sorry, Grogu. I'll come get you soon," he says as he presses the button to close the door to the bunk.

When Din turns, she is more apprehensive than curious. It comes off her in waves. He knows he needs to explain, but… he doesn't know exactly what to say.

"I'm not going to hear the end of that for some time."

She gives a small smile.

"I- um…" Din starts and stops, her eyes are so… 

Din takes off his gloves. 

He tries again, taking her hand-

"Aq Vetina is my homeworld, but I was saved after my parents were kiled and taken in by the Mandalorians when I was very young."

Whether she is also from Aq Vetina or just knows of it, he doesn't know, but he can see some recognition. She looks down at his hand on hers, his thumb making circles on her wrist. Her eyes close, and she hums a contented sound. The sound causes fireworks to go off in him. Din breaks away to walk over to a control panel on the wall and shuts down the lights.

You are plunged into darkness. Has your curiosity gotten you into trouble? 

"As a Mandalorian, to protect my creed my face can not be seen by others," he explains from across the hold. "But I want to take off my helmet with you-" 

The dark is absolute, but you can tell where he is from the sound of his voice. Then a hiss and clunk, followed by a soft fwump, fabric maybe. There is a moment of silence, then right in front of you-

"Do you understand why?"

He sounds different, no longer speaking through the helmet. And his scent- you breathe it in. 

"I think so, Alph- you're an alpha," you didn’t plan to whisper.

Din is hit with your scent, now unencumbered by the basic filtration within the helmet. He takes your hand again, bringing your wrist to his nose, inhaling. You know he is restraining himself from going to the scent gland in your neck. But if you are honest with yourself, it's all you want.

Din doesn't know what he is doing, he feels untethered, almost floating. He has never felt this way, his thinking is not confused though, on the contrary it is very clear though it almost feels like someone else's thoughts.

You move closer, bringing your neck so close. Din lowers your hand-

"Can I?"

"Please, Al- Mando"

"Din, please call me Din."

You tip you head to the side, you trust he will only smell, you don't know how you know and that frightens you.

"Alright, Din."

A shiver runs through him, and very slowly, he brings his face to the juncture of your neck and shoulder and inhales deeply. He feels drunk. His training battling with instinct and training all but raises a flag of truce when your nose is buried in his now bare neck, and instinct rumbles its victory. Little does he know that that rumble escapes him until you moan in response. 

"Din," you sigh. His response is quick and desperate, a growl rumbling from his chest and arms wrap tightly around you, as he murmurs your name.

How you got to the large crate you are now sitting on, you aren’t sure. Your feet dangle, legs open with Din standing between them, but he is not pressing against you. His head is tucked against your shoulder as he noses against your scent gland. Your hands in his hair,it's soft and fine. He does nothing without express permission. You have never met an alpha like this. You remind yourself he wasn't raised in a/b/o society, where the hierarchy puts him at the top, so many taught that they can just take what they want, like the alpha behind the cantina. You also can tell he is holding back, keeping instinct in check. And you are torn between incredible respect and wanting him to let go. 

“I want to kiss you, may-”

“I want to kiss you too, Din.”

Din brings his mouth to yours with an urgency that scares him. He wants to live here, right here. He knows he has to marshal himself, take control. But your lips are soft and the sounds you make, he wishes he could see you- 

Suddenly, there is the swoosh of a door to your right and an affronted cry that is as cute as it is furious. You smile, your lips still against his.

“Time’s up, I guess,” Din sighs.

"For now."

THANK YOU FOR READING 💚

You can find more of my writing here, and if you are interested in being tagged for this or any of my other works, here is my taglist form.

#a/b/o dynamics #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #alpha din #a/b/o au #din djarin fic #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian #pedro pascal character fic #omegaverse

[joelsgirl]

Maybe Din making/gifting his s/o a collar made from a piece of his armor? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

Muse: Din Djarin Content Warnings: Age Gap, Size Difference, Din makes a collar instead of an engagement ring, reference to smut, fluff, No Use of Y/N A/N: Set post s3 finale in his gorgeous home. He has the crest, the star fighter and his house. // @dreamsofmandalore + Want to see more? I’d love to see some requests, here!

Leaning against the door jam, he couldn't stop watching you. You were wearing his shirt, one of the black long sleeve shirts he wore under his armour.

It reached mid thigh, draped over your perfect body, making you look like the goddess you were. You always wore his clothes, especially when it was just the two of you at home.

It was his favourite thing, loved how big they were on your petite frame, loved that smile you wore whenever you hugged yourself in them, inhaling the scent of him whenever you thought he wasn't looking.

Delicate hands were chopping the vegetables as you prepared dinner for you both, like you had every night since bringing you home. Oh how the mighty have fallen; all the grand plans he'd had when he first took you, gone… replaced by something better, replaced by… a life he'd always dreamed of.

You were nothing but a bounty, not meant to be more than cargo he'd released for payment... didn't stay that way. All it had taken was one look in your eyes, and he was gone.

You'd been back a few weeks and honestly, he couldn't get enough of you. Fucking you every day, multiple times, hands always on you, holding you… watching as you move about, so simple, so perfect. It was no different on the crest, you'd spent your days impaled on his cock in between missions. Thankfully the bed was bigger here.

Shifting the ring of metal from one hand to the other, he pulled off the jam. Straightening his spine before closing the distance between you. Not stopping until your back was pressed against his chest, your hips pinned against the counter.

You were facing the window overlooking the small stream outside the kitchen.

He slipped the choker around your slender throat, securing it at the back and locking it in place before sliding his hands down your sides, wrapping them around the front of you. Holding you tight against him as his head dipped to press a kiss to the throat, right above the beskar collar.

He wasn't one for engagement rings, or asking permission to take what was his… but this collar meant it all. More of a sign that you belonged to him than anything else he could provide.

The choker forged by his own hand, a piece of his armor, remade.

The mudhorn stamped in the center, a mark of his clan. That you belonged to it. To him... "Mine…"

#pedro pascal #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fic #My Writing #My Writing x Din Djarin