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cornerficus · 3 years

Text

The Mechanic, 6

Summary: The Mandalorian hires you to travel with him and make repairs to the Razorcrest. Despite being wary of this intimidating warrior at first, you quickly find he is far more reachable than you thought.

Set post season 3. We know Grogu’s name and Din is becoming more comfortable removing his helmet, the Razorcrest is still alive and Din and Grogu Djarin are still together, as god intended

In this chapter: tattoos, angst and FOREHEAD TOUCHES

Please see this incredible fanart by @kaylabeemarie for my visual inspiration for the camping scene

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

---

The work on the Crest is done. It’s been done for days, even the blasted push rod replacement that's been haunting you for months. You’ve been lurking in the wiring shafts, trying to come up with preventative work to do, but that has quickly run out too. Din hasn’t seemed to notice yet and you’re in no rush to point it out to him.

The issue of your length of residence onboard has never come up. In the beginning, you had too much work to do that it didn’t seem to matter. Then, slowly, you simply pushed the thought of an ending from your mind. Now though, it is unavoidable to contemplate your time with Din coming to an end.

Perhaps he’s changed his mind about only needing a mechanic for essential repairs. Perhaps he’d like to keep you for troubleshooting in the future. With an old ship like this and a lifestyle like his, it’s likely to need emergency work. But the fear of being wrong prevents you from bringing it up.

Until one day, docked on planet, you find Din removing the inner hull plates, rolls of some sort of fluffy material at his feet.

“How would you feel about adding insulation? Keep it a bit warmer outside of atmosphere,” he asks.

“I think you know how I feel about that,” you say, picking up another drill and moving beside him. “How can I help?”

“Take this one off,” he says, pointing to the next panel. When you’re halfway though, he speaks up again. “Thanks for helping, I know this is well below your paygrade.”

“Hah!” you bark a laugh. “Nothing is below my paygrade because you have never paid me,” you tease.

“We’ll settle up before you go,” he says, almost defensively.

You’d never question his honor in paying you for your work, you were only teasing, but mention of leaving makes your heart stop. The opportunity is right there, too good to waste, so you turn it into another joke.

“So that’s why you’re finding work for me, huh? You’ll never have to pay me if I never leave?” Your delivery is tinged with more anxiety than you intend and the joke falls flat. He lowers the drill and looks at you.

“Anytime you want to leave, just tell me where and I’ll take you. But there will always be work, either now or soon.”

I’ll always need you, is what your greedy heart hears.

“Alright. I’ll stay, then,” you say and are proud of yourself for sounding much more casual than you feel.

---

"And who is this?" Cara Dune asks when you and Din walk down the ramp. You don't like the aggressive way she looks at you and have to remind yourself that she is Din's friend and probably as protective of him as you are.

“Mechanic, been fixing up the ship,” Din says shortly.

Your head snaps around to look at him, not that you can get any idea of what the actual kriff he’s thinking underneath that helmet. That hurt more than you expected. Cara catches a glimpse of the incredulous look on your face before you can erase it.

“Sure,” she says slyly.

The job he’s enlisted Cara’s help for on this planet will take a few days, and Din is insistent that you and Grogu find somewhere to hunker down until it’s finished.

The intervening days are pleasant enough. The villagers are friendly and the weather is warm. You score some lightweight fabric at a flea market and fashion yourself a sleeveless V-neck. You befriend an alien who is also a tattoo artist, and when she offers you free ink, you instantly know what you want immortalized on your skin.

Even though he called you just his mechanic and even though he didn’t trust you enough to take you along on a job, no matter what happens to this chapter of your life, you will never, ever forget him and you will cherish the last twelve months you’ve spent with him.

So you sketch out the skeletal mudhorn outline that’s stamped on Din’s armor and have her tattoo it on your sternum, right at the very center of you.

You’re in the market a few days later, talking with your tattooist friend, when you turn and see Din a few steps away, coming toward you.

“Mando!” you exclaim, your heart jumping. “You’re back!” You want to hug him, but are unsure how that would be received, so the fingertips that reach out simply tap his armor then retreat. You look back to introduce Kelee to him, but she is vanished. “Oh, you scared her away,” you say laughingly. “How did it go?”

“Fine. It’s finished. You look happy here. Want to stay?” he asks, but you can hear the smile in his voice and know it’s nowhere near a serious question.

Not without you, you think. Instead you shake your head and say, “I’m only happy because you’re back,” then bump your fist against his chestplate. When your arm falls back to your side, Din encircles your wrist with his hand and leans down to touch his forehead to yours in a gesture you interpret, perhaps generously, as: I missed you. You close your eyes to relish the feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he says without moving.

“For what?”

Finally he pulls away and releases your wrist. “For calling you my mechanic. Cara said that was not the right thing to do. I just didn’t want her prying. Not that it helped, she pried anyway.”

You shrug. “It’s ok.” And it is. You’ve taken this time without him to meditate on it. It would be wildly selfish to wish for anything more than this bliss, more than sharing his space and his friendship. So you won’t.

“What’s that?” Din asks, pointing toward your chest, where the tip of your tattoo’s horn is visible above the low neckline of your new shirt.

“Oh! Nothing!” You pull your hair over your shoulders in an attempt to hide it, suddenly feeling very foolish for daring to insert yourself into his clan by appropriating his symbol. “My new friend Kelee is a tattooist, I just got a... thing. Grogu missed you,” you say, to distract him, holding the child’s satchel up into his line of sight.

Din may not quite believe your poor lies, but he takes the child into his arms anyway. “Of course he did.”

-----

The job is not quite as finished as Din thought it was, so the next day there is another discussion with Cara on a plan. They are going to split up again, but you will stay with Grogu on the Crest.

Before Din flies off with his jetpack, you hook a finger through one of his gloved ones, a discreet and silent gesture of.... well wishing? solidarity? affection? All of them? You’re not sure, but letting him leave your presence without giving him one is suddenly unthinkable.

He uses that grip on your finger to tug you a little closer, and tips his helmet down to your forehead again. Your definition of the gesture changes from I missed you to You are important.

When the job is really and truly done, Cara walks back to the Crest to see you both off.

“Do you know what it means,” she asks, when Din is stowing cargo and cannot hear, “when he does that forehead thing?” She taps her hand on her forehead to demonstrate.

“I think so, but I’m not entirely sure,” you confess.

Cara laughs, which is not encouraging. “Maybe you oughta ask him. Because I can tell you right now, he will never ever come out and say it unless you do first.”

“Say what?”

Cara just rolls her eyes at you, and there isn’t another opportunity to ask.

-----

You try it out, though, because it’s nice and it makes you feel like you really are a team (a family). You give Grogu a forehead tap every now and then, almost like a little kiss. Though you give him plenty of real kisses too.

They become commonplace between you and Din as well. Before parting ways, even if it’s only for a few hours while splitting up errands on supply runs, he taps his forehead to yours.

One day, because you are distracted, he gets you in the temple instead and he huffs unhappily, so you grab his arm before he can walk away. You pull him down to give him a proper one, straight on, helmet to forehead. His gloved hand brushing your arm from shoulder to wrist in thanks makes you break into a sweat.

---

You’ve been flitting from planet to planet for over a year when you land on a peaceful temperate planet. After running your errands, Din takes the ship some distance away from the city and lands in a clearing amidst a forest of young, leafy trees.

You stop just off the ship and close your eyes, face tilted to the sun, listening to the sound of running water nearby. The air smells crisp and fresh.

Din says, “Think we’ll rest here for a week or so.”

“Yes!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up. “Laundry!”

Din chuckles. “If you ever want to stop, or stay somewhere longer, just say so. You’re not just a passenger. You have a say in our schedule.”

Our schedule. You like the sound of that.

You’ve spent weeks at a time seeing no one but Din and Grogu on the ship, but it feels so much more... domestic, to be camping simply for the pleasure of it. Today you take your dandelion tea and the child on your hip out to the river. You roll up your pantlegs to wade, feeling the small stones under your toes, and let Grogu play in the shallows.

Din wades in beside you, wearing no armor at all and the two of you laugh at the child’s splashing.

You playfully flick some water at Din, just to get his attention focused back on you for a moment. But the look of mischief on his face makes you shriek before he even completes his next move. He dives toward you and, wrapping his arms around you from behind, submerges the both of you under the water.

He doesn’t release you as you both break above the water again and you playfully pretend to struggle against him, laughing. His breath is very near your ear and his heart is beating against your back, the warmth of him pressed against you all the warmer for the chill of the river.

Finally you tilt your head back onto his shoulder, admitting defeat. The sun is bright so you close your eyes and let your smile linger as your breath returns to you.

His beard scrapes against your exposed neck for a moment, an accident, surely. You tilt your face a little more toward him, also accidentally, and his bowed head lifts slightly, the scratch of his beard, the tip of his nose, dragging up from your neck to just under your chin.

You hear a splash and look toward the sound, where Grogu has leapt off the shallow shelf of rock after a frog into the deeper waters. You and Din both reach out for him and pull him back above the water, into the safe circle of your embrace.

---

After a week of lounging on warm rocks by the riverside and taking meandering walks through the mossy swamp to find Grogu some slimy snacks, you know it’s getting nigh on time to go. But you suggest, “One more day?”

“Of course,” Din replies without hesitation.

You are in the water every day, perhaps trying to encourage a repeat of the scene from last week, but you don’t let yourself examine your motives too closely. So far you have been unsuccessful.

It’s a particularly sunny day, and you bathe in the river for the last time, wearing only underwear and the lightweight V-neck shirt you made for yourself on Inoru. You know Din will be too modest to be anywhere near during this ritual, so you make no real effort at modesty yourself. You bring Grogu with you to bathe him, though he dislikes getting his head wet and makes it hard for you with his wriggling.

But you scoop up some tadpoles from the shallows in your cupped palms and while he’s distracted with chewing, you make sure he is squeaky clean.

Later in the day, Din takes his turn in the river doing the same. You’d been on a walk in the forest with Grogu and when you return, you find Din sitting on a rock in the river, shirtless, though he is wearing his pants to wash them.

He’s bent over the water, gently scrubbing the cloth in his hands. You cross the river on some stepping stones and give him a wide berth, feeling awkward and intrusive. His back is to the ship though, so once you get far enough behind him, you let your eyes drift over to his naked back.

The muscle in his shoulders bunch as he works at his laundry and, distracted as you are, you walk directly into the hydraulic pole of the ramp. You curse over the metallic clang.

“Watch your step,” Din drawls, without looking back, but you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Quite the bruise,” he remarks later in the day, when your pantlegs are rolled up and you’re finding tadpoles for Grogu again. Din is sitting on a rock nearby, watching. You glance down at the big purple mark on your shin, where you’d smashed it into the ramp. You cut your eyes sideways at him with a warning glare.

“Weren’t watching where you were going?” The lilt of amusement is in his voice again.

“Just naturally clumsy,” you insist, and scoff when he laughs, but the delighted brightness of his smile dissolves any lingering embarrassment.

---

When you emerge from your cubby one day with Grogu in your arms and find all three of you have dressed in the same shirts, the ones you’d made for them with your own hands and skills, you laugh.

"Look at us. We look like a matched set,” you say.

Din looks bemused momentarily, but as his eyes travel over you, holding his child, his smile fades.

“We look like a clan,” he says.

"Did all Mandalorian clans dress alike?” you ask, your throat suddenly dry.

“Many, yes.”

"Makes sense, I guess. If you buy a swath of fabric, you’d make as many garments as you could from it,” you babble, plucking at your shirt and then Grogu’s matching one.

The thought clangs around in your head like a lone marble in a jar, the only thing between your ears, keeping you awake at all hours. The desire for it to be true burning through your veins like poison, the darkness of his gaze as it drifted over you like a caress and you wonder how much more of this you can take.

---

One day as Din is leaving the cockpit to put on his armor before entering atmosphere of another planet-- he’s been wearing less and less armor on board the ship, you’ve noticed-- you realize suddenly that his feet are bare.

Bare feet. If he was fully naked he wouldn’t be any more vulnerable. He trusts you, trusts your capabilities, fully and completely and it’s the highest praise you could ever dream up. So you stand in the cockpit entryway and watch him finish clipping on his armor and shove his boots on.

He comes to stand in front of you, intending on slipping past you and back into the cockpit, but you don’t move to let him by. The cockpit is a step up from the hold so his nose is level with your collarbones.

Instead you lean your forehead down and tap it to his. Just once, a quick thing, to perhaps give him a fraction of the message your heart is blasting throughout your body. Then you smile and step down to let him pass. Except he doesn’t.

With what appears to be a great deal of restraint, he leans his forehead down again to yours. It is the only point of contact between you, yet the intention behind it makes it feel like a full-body embrace. Your eyes close and you remain there, unwilling to move away from him. The angle changes-- did he? or did you?-- and his nose slides down yours. It’s involuntary, innate, for you to tip your chin up in breathless anticipation.

But then the contact is gone.

“What is this, here?” Din taps your chest with the tip of his finger.

You blanch as your eyes fly open, thrown off balance by his sudden absence and the unexpected question.

“What?” you say, playing dumb for time. He’s planted his hand on the wall next to your head and is leaning a little further into your space than usual.

“The tattoo you got on Inoru, what is it?” he repeats.

He knows. He already knows. You can tell from the calm tone of his voice, the levelness of his gaze. He just wants you to admit it. He must have seen it while you were bathing in the river. Your palms start to sweat, but the thought of lying to him is untenable, so you immediately confess.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have used it without your permission. I just... I didn’t know how long I’d be with you at the time and I wanted to think of you when I looked at it, to feel like I still had part of you with me,” the words come out fast and jumbled, until you realize just how much you’re revealing and stop short. “I can get it changed into something else--”

“No,” he interrupts. “I want you to have it.”

Your eyes, resolutely trained on his chestplate, jump back up to his. “You’re not angry?”

He shakes his head. His eyes are dark, the warm brown nearly engulfed by pupils blown wide and he swallows hard before he asks, “Can I see it?”

Your first thought is to lighten the atmosphere by talking about the quality of the work, but even though cutting the tension would be the safest route, you want something else more than you want to be safe in this moment.

So you watch his eyes follow your hand as you tug down the neckline of your shirt. Your face is hot, but having the full focus of his attention on you, having his warmth so near, you forget to be afraid. Despite the thundering of your heart, you find yourself craving that breathlessness, that full-of-anticipation, teetering-on-the-edge feeling and you forget to be afraid of falling the wrong way off of it.

Din reaches out and pushes your shirt down a little further, the pad of his finger dragging against the black ink underneath your skin, so he can see the very edge of the mud horn’s chin.

“This belongs to you, too,” he says. The sound of his voice is startling; dark and rusty. “Understand?”

You’re not sure you really do, but you nod anyway. You both linger there, unwilling to tip one way or the other. He searches your eyes, almost like he’s waiting for you to do something, but before you can figure out what through the fog in your brain, Din straightens and steps away from you.

“Strap in,” he says. “It’s time to go.”

---

*frustrated screaming*

@over300books @remmysbounty @mylifeofcalculatedchaos @starlite41 @stilledimperfections @keeper0fthestars @depresseddarth66 @the-scandalorian @velcromouth @itsthstoryofmylife @bookloverfilmoholic @cannedsoupsucks

#ANGST #the mechanic #the mandalorian fic #din x reader #din djarin x reader #din x you #din djarin x you #din x reader fic #din djarin x reader fic #din x you fic #din djarin x you fic #the mandalorian x you #star wars #star wars imagine

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

HASO, “What You Missed.”

Hope you all are having a good day, and hope you enjoy!

The rumbling continued deep within the planet’s lower crust. Projections on the seismic map estimated the eventual collapse of the bran mining operation on the other side of the planet. Though they didn’t plan to go long enough for the tunnels to completely collapse, they planned to used the abandoned mining ground as the stage for their own setup.

Mining precious metals in the GA territories were highly regulated, and the products made and sold from those precious metals were also highly monitored, however, the GA could hardly monitor what they didn’t know about.

The biotin sniffed at the dusty air hating the way the dirt clung to her skin like a glove of fuzzy filth. The air here tasted sour and fake like most terraformed planets, and all she wanted to do was go back to her home world and relax where it didn’t smell so bad, but she knew she had to get this job done.

She glanced down at the paper she held, and idly walked her way over to where the staging operation had been set up, made out of several interlocking grey tents that were designed to look like the rocky surface of the planet if anyone was looking, as well as bloc their transmission signals so they couldn’t be spotted if anyone where to have an eye keen enough to spot them.

She stopped just inside the Tent to where the…. Human was sitting staring at the screens and tapping his long bony fingers together.

She hated this human, he was annoying and self centered, and likely thought he was enigmatic with the strange clothing he wore, and the mirrored glasses that covered his eyes, but she just found him wildly pretentious.

“How goes it, sir.”

He nodded, “The mining companies have left with the help of the Omen..” he sneered as the word passed through his lips, “The property is benign abandoned, and we should have a couple of months until they send someone to take a look and see what happened, at least until they send a force large enough for us to have to worry.”

She nodded but didn’t bother to agree or contradict him. It wouldn’t matter either way.

Besides, she didn’t care what happened as long as she got what she wanted.

The GA was too large and too involved in everything in the galaxy, The leaders of her planet were too lax with their tariffs and trade deals, and because of their poor economic management, the Iotin planet had fallen into relative anonymity and been ignored by the rest of the galaxy. She believed they could be doing so much more, but it's not like they could really compete with humans and Tesraki.

She was sick and tired of the GA thinking they could control everything.

And so was this human.

As much as she despised humans on principle, at least this human and her had similar goals.

She could work with the enemy for a little while longer while they hashed out a true plan.

The human turned to look at her through his mirrored shades. The man was an older human who she was sure dyed his hair to cover the grey, and she did her best to conceal her disgust as she moved forward and handed him the drawn schematic.

He glanced down at it.

“Where is the rest?”

“He said he would deliver the rest upon payment. This was just a show of good will.”

“A show of goodwill.” he snarled, but then slowly sat back in his seat, “Can he guarantee that it works.”

She bristled at his tone, but didn’t rise to challenge him, “He assures me it has already been tested on a human and achieved the desirable results.

“That's hardly comforting if I haven’t seen it.”

“Then take it up with him yourself. You should have worried about all this BEFORE agreeing to hijack an entire mining operation to build the damn things!”

He bristled right back at her but she didn’t care. She was coming to learn that not all humans were so like the ones the GA had met first hand. IN fact most humans weren’t loyal and honorable. Most of them were greedy, cowardly predators, who wanted nothing more than to push for their own personal gain while leaving others to rot in the dust.

This human was no different.

But soon it would all be over.

Very very soon.

She glanced down at the half schematic and the Kree seal stamped on the back.

***

“The seismic activity has escalated since evacuation. So far my scientists have been unable to pinpoint the source, as far as we knew, the planet wasn’t supposed to have plates, but something seems to be disturbing its stability. We were wondering if perhaps the extensive cave systems could do it, but, as far as we could tell the systems weren’t nearly large enough to disturb the lower crust of the planet.”

“And the evacuation?”

“The larger mining companies shipped off most of their employees on their waiting station ships, and I took some of what remained. We will be bringing most of them back to the Bran homeworld for recovery.”

“And you admiral, how do your people fare?”

“The rescue teams managed to make it out alive. I was almost crushed, but some quick thinking by Lord Celex’s son saved my life, but other than that no one was injured too badly, but I would take some scientists to keep an eye on the strange underground activity. We have never seen anything like it, and are worried that the planet might be destabilizing. It isn’t o dire considering that the planet was originally uninhabited, but I am told this mining station carries the highest percentage of Terbium to minerals in the galaxy, so it would be a loss.”

A few feet away, Ket lay curled on a ball on a pillow with a warm up of glowmoss in one hand. A few other miners sat around the room idly listening to the Admiral who was talking over communication to the GA council, a council that had grown a lot bigger since Ket had known of it five years ago.

In fact a lot of things had changed since the humans had arrived, and not for the worse as he had once suspected.

He munched on some of the moss and turned to watch the human as he paced across the floor. How strange it was to see the creature from his nightmares in such a…. non -nightmarish circumstance. He could still remember the chase all those years ago and felt the horror and concern that had almost driven him to madness down in the mining tunnels, but, there the human was talking like a civilised creature, apparently head of the GA’s coalition fleet, and some sort of bigshot ambassador.

Not to mention all the strange alien creatures that he had come across since stepping on the towering four-armed warriors and the fuzzy fluff balls of anger. The one that had come to rescue him was still sitting on the human’s shoulder, interjecting the occasional point to the council when the human missed something.

It was all so surreal.

For years he had been hiding in that tunnel, what he originally only saw as maybe half a year turned out to be around five years, and the galaxy had grown in scope and involvement. What had once been a coalition of uneasy allies held together by economics, the GA was now a thriving galactic metropolis based on mutual backing and delicate diplomatic involvement.

Or at least that’s what he had seen so far.

“Thank you.” The human said before shutting off the hologram and walking back across the room full of evacuees

His single green eye fell on Ket skin still dusted with the grime of rocks and dirt, and stepped over to kneel next to him and where he sat on his cushion. It had been a very long time since he had been aboard a spaceship and even longer since he had talked to anyone. He was still getting used to that.

And the human still managed to unnerve him.

“How are you feeling.” “Overwhelmed.”

The human’s rubbery, mobile face deformed a bit so one corner of its mouth stretched upwards for a moment, “I can hardly blame you for that. You’ve been away a long time.” The human paused, and Ket watched him curiously as he reached up to rub the back of his head, “Look I, know i've already apologized for what happened five years ago, but it was sort of a half assed apology considering that we were being crushed at the time.” He shifted his weight so he was now resting on his other knee, “I want to explain myself. Before I saw you, my entire planet thought that we were the only living things in the galaxy. No one believes in extraterrestrial life, and upon seeing you, I was just excited, and wanted to make sure it was all real.”

Ket waited.

“I know that doesn’t excuse years of psychological trauma, but I promise, when I was…. Chasing you, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was excited, and I should have been more diplomatic about it. I can see that now, but back then we didn’t really know anything about politicking with aliens. I am not trying to excuse my behavior, but I just want you to understand that I made a mistake and I am willing to apologize for it.”

It seemed so strange, and unusual coming from the mouth of a predator, but he found that he…. Believed it?

How odd.

“I understand…… I admit I am a bit surprised as to how things turned out.”

The human showed its teeth, which he was coming to realize was supposed to be a good thing, “Yes, a lot of things have changed in the last five years, come and I'll show you.” ket let the empty cup of moss fall to the side by his cushion and stood to walk at the feet of the human who was at least four feet taller than him since ket stood on six legs and the human stood on two, they might have been around the same height if the human had decided to walk on al fours, but at this point ket had to crane his neck up to look at the human.

“We began peace talks with the GA shortly after you were relocated to your new post. We signed the treaty in a little over a year and I offered to help in the Drev war, which I believe you might have heard of since it started before we showed up.”

Ket nodded his head.

“We won the Drev war for the GA and the Drev began peace talks after the war ended. I Was promoted to captain shortly after and given command of the ship under loan from the UNSC to the GA in order to support diplomatic relationships between our people. Since then the Gnarlak nation has fallen, and those remaining have been confined to a plot of land on their planet where they can no longer hurt the FInnari, a subjugated species which was farmed by the Gnarlak. Other notable discovered species have been the Tvek, Lumin, Mikes, Iotins, Celzex, dort of, Starborn Tricar, and hopefully I am not forgetting anyone. We have fought in two burg wars and won them both releasing the burg population from total supremacy under an unfeeling tyrant. Interspecies relationships are legal now, though the discrimination they face is still something we are working on. Planetary GDP has risen for petty much everyone and our job market is only getting better. The tourist industry is becoming a gib thing. My Tesraki market analysts say that humans, the Tesraki and and Rundi are currently galactic superpowers in regards to power and economic influence, but as far as we can tell this hasn’t caused to man problems between the other less influential groups. The Bran for instance.” he glanced down at ket, “are selling precious metals used in electronics at ten thousand percent higher output rate than you were a few years ago and selling at a fifty percent markup. As far as I know, no one is hurting.”

He tapped his fingers against his arm, “I think that is most everything important you need to know, oh I forgot the Kree war and discovering that, somewhere out in the universe, there is another sentient, and likely multi species galactic coalition, though we haven't had the pleasure of meeting or interacting with them just yet.” he frowned, “Well, I have, but I hardly consider it interacting because they kept me in a cage most of the time.”

Ket stared at the human, and the human shrugged, “that should catch you up to speed.”

It most certainly did not, but he supposed it was as good of an opening as he was going to get.

Honestly he had no idea what he was supposed to do or think. It was all so new to him, and all so strange. How was he going to actually catch up?

How was he going to integrate back into society after all this?

After months of being nearly incoherent?

He could still feel that part of him lurking somewhere in the background and knew that it was not gone.

He was going to have to figure out something eventually….

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valkyriekill · 3 years

Note

Love your stuff! If you’re able to write a sexy little Kylo something with a Twi’lek alien reader, that would be amazing!

tysm! also i want to apologize for how long this took to get out, i was up in the mountains for memorial day weekend and had no chance to sit down and even think about starting this. i was or was not a bit intoxicated the entire weekend but that doesn't matter.

Manhunt [Kylo Ren x Twi'lek!Fem!Reader] 18+

CW: a little bit of smut, as a treat, slightly dubious content. (also I've never written a non-human reader before and i honestly know next to nothing about twi'leks ((i really need to brush up on my star wars lore)) so i will def try my best at this jasdklfjsadlkf)

The bar was bustling with activity that night, patrons of all walks of life came to enjoy the drinks and the music. Kylo and his knights, however, did not enter the bar looking for a night to unwind. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Kylo was sent on a manhunt to find someone that had piqued the Supreme Leader's interest.

When Snoke first mentioned you, Kylo was taken by your beauty. Sharp gaze, full lips, smooth (s/c) skin, and the long heaadtails that sprouted from the crown of your head.

"Heed my warning, Ren. Don't let her seduce you. Don't lose track of the mission." Snoke had warned him.

That was a few days ago, and this mission was beginning to feel like a fucking wild goose chase with how the locals had him and his knights scrambling around the planet. He'd finally pinned down your location after running into an older human man, who seemed to loathe you.

"Yeah, I know who she is. Her name is (Y/N) (L/N). She's an arms dealer but she dresses like she belongs to a whore house. She usually works out of the Underground Selligore."

"Split up, find the girl," Kylo spoke lowly. The seven giant men headed in different directions, Kylo heading through the large crowd, heading straight towards the bartender. The patrons parted like the Red Sea seeing the large man hurtling through the crowd. The bartender's face lost all its color when Kylo approached him. "Where is (Y/N)?" He demanded.

"I-I don't know who you're talking about," The bartender choked out. "She hasn't been here in years."

Kylo's hand shot out and grabbed the collar of the bartender's shirt and knocked his head down onto the counter, holding the side of his face to the grimy bar top. "Tell me where she is." He growled, the vocoder in his helmet making his voice sound much more sinister. When the man didn't give him an answer, Kylo started to sift through his mind, searching for the face of his target. The bartender screamed out bloody murder before he finally gave up.

Kylo continued to push through the thick crowd of customers as he searched for you when a small clearing ahead revealed your shapely form on the other side of the room.

A smile is curled on your plump, painted lips as you conversed with a man in front of you. You wore a skimpy two-piece made of black silk. The top dipped down tantalizingly low, showing off your supple breasts, and the mesh skirt draped over your hips left nothing to the imagination.

However the pleasant smile on your face didn't last long as your eyes moved to scan the crowd. The second your eyes met his, your smile dropped and you turned away from the deveronian you had been speaking to and you bolted towards the back door. Kylo was quick to follow you, his broad shoulders easily parting through the crowd.

You tried to outrun him as fast as you could, but you shortly found out that the alley you tried to escape through came to a dead end.

"Shit," you hissed as Kylo's heavy footsteps approached you from behind.

"You're hard to find, (Y/N)," Kylo's deep voice spoke out. You twirled around to face him.

"Not hard enough, clearly," You replied. Kylo's hand raised and curled into a fist and your arms were immediately pinned to your sides and your back was thrown into the brick wall as he closed in on your body. The impact all but knocked the wind out of your chest.

"The Supreme Leader has taken an interest in you," His gloved hand tilted your chin upwards. "And so have I."

"Go fuck yourself," You snarled at him. You were suddenly forced to your knees with a grunt.

"That's your job," He growls back. One hand is pressed against the back of your head, between your headtails while the other hand is swiftly undoing his belt. Shortly after, he pulls out his hardening cock. "Open your mouth," He demands, but you refused, keeping your jaw clenched tightly. His anger flared up as his hand moved from the back of your head to the hinge of your jaw, digging his middle finger and his thumb into either side of your jaw to pry it open. You grunted at the force as he sinks into your mouth, the head of his rock-hard cock hitting the back of your throat and triggering your gag reflex.

"Suck," He demands. An internal conflict rises, as you quickly weigh the pros and cons of biting his cock versus being compliant.

Kylo lets out a low moan as his hand pushes your head further onto his cock as you take as much as you can of it into your mouth. Your cheeks hollow out around him as you begin to suck and lick the underside of his dick. Kylo's hips twitch and thrust forward a few times. His moans and the sounds of you slurping around his cock fill the empty alleyway.

Your hands work at the rest of his shaft that you can’t reach, squeezing and pumping up and down. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat a few times, but you breathe through the gags.

“You’re such a dirty slut,” Kylo growls out. “Letting a stranger fuck your throat in a dirty alley where anyone could see." He huffs out a breath as your mouth works around his length.

You moan softly around his cock as one hand slowly creeps between your thighs and dips beneath the waistband of your jeans, but he stops you. “I didn’t— fuck— fucking say you could touch yourself, dirty whore.” He growled. You wanted to cry, your pussy was throbbing and dripping and he wasn’t allowing you to relieve yourself. You squeezed your thighs together in hopes of creating a little friction. His hands push your face even further into his crotch, your nose buried in the dark curls at the base of his dick.

His thrusts begin to get sloppy, and before you knew it, he was squirting cum down your throat. It was warm and salty, and so much of it pooling in your mouth. He takes a few moments to regain his breath before he pulls out of your mouth, your saliva stringing between his head and your lips. “Swallow.” He demands, and you do so, swallowing down the thick cum. You open your mouth to show that there was nothing left.

Kylo breathlessly tucks himself back into his pants as you gaze up at him. He doesn't immediately do anything, and for a split second, you think he was going to let you off the hook.

That was until his knights filled the alleyway.

"Take her back to the ship. I'll deal with her later."

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren #star wars #kylo ren smut #kylo ren imagine #smut #adcu #is this good i can't tell #to be continued???#i've never publicly published smut before oh no

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vlion · 3 years

Text

What Happens on Ryloth...

Summary: ...stays on Ryloth. Din's out looking for a bounty, and when you finally hear him return, you know something's off. As he approaches the ship, you have to take matters into your own hands to help the man who has protected you countless times before, who you couldn't help but pine over each time he left like this. Let's put your knowledge of basic medical care to the test, shall we? Don't worry, you'll be compensated fairly...

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of blood/injuries, a bit of angst, very slight innuendos Rating: teen+ Word Count: 4,392 Also Posted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023713

You wake up, stretching your limbs as far as you could in the small area on the floor of the hull that you were resting on. Your body slightly shakes as your arm collides with something warm, which lets out a tiny whine as you do so.

“Come here, little guy.” You whispered, immediately wrapping your arms around the small body as he waddled over to you.

You loved these moments more than anything, which is why you had decided to travel with him and his taller, beskar-donning companion as a sort-of caretaker and emotional support human for the both of them. You also admired the relationship that the two of them had, and how this fearsome and mighty Mandalorian had decided to drop almost everything and defend this strange little critter from the dangers of the universe.

The relationship that you had with the little green alien was that of a mother and child; you were always there to comfort him, and in return, he made you smile and laugh during the many long hours you often spent in hyperspace.

The relationship you had with Mando, or Din - which you were so grateful for knowing after having been told it during a rather emotional bout of pillow talk - was definitely… interesting. He held you at night ‒ like a lover, constantly looked out for you and protected you, and even went so far as to cater to you and ensure that you were healthy and comfortable. You knew a lot about him and the Creed, but no matter how much you had longed to know him more intimately, to feel his body and memorize every curve and inch of his skin, neither of you had made the first move.

You knew there was something unspoken between the two of you, you felt it in the way his hands would grip you for just a little bit longer than necessary as if he was afraid of letting you go or leaving you. You also felt it in the ways that he would look out for you, like reminding you when to take a break after a long day of repairs or cleaning around the Crest.

You didn’t want to say that you loved each other, because you weren’t even sure you knew what love was. If love was when you knew someone was willing to protect you and care for you until the end of the universe, then yes, what you and Din shared was love. If it wasn’t, then whatever you shared was simply something that you would never trade away for anything.

The gentle tugging on your hair brought you out of your thoughts and back to the present. The kid only gets impatient like this when he’s hungry or tired, and judging by the fact that he climbed out of his pod and woke you up, the former was probably what was bothering him.

“Just a second, okay?” You reassured him, taking him into your arms and standing up from the makeshift bed of various blankets and pillows you had slept on.

Din’s bed was barely even that ‒ a bed. It was more like the softest pile of rocks in the universe. However, it got the job done, and you had slept there countless times. It just simply felt wrong to sleep there without your Mandalorian companion, who had welcomed you into it in the first place.

Your companion. That was probably the best word that you could use to describe him in relation to you, now that you think about it. He was due to come back from a pretty straightforward bounty hunt today, ensuring you that he would be back to you after just three nights of sleep. He’s never broken one of these promises before, and you wished that you could tell him that he could take all of the time he needs, this is his job after all.

However, you had to say, you admired the way that he was so disciplined and in tune with what he needed to do to ensure such a high rate of success in his line of work. Bounty hunting wasn’t easy, you knew that because you’ve seen what it can do to Din after days of subjecting himself to the gruesome conditions on planet after planet, and spending nights on his own in unknown surroundings. He was always quick to get showered and prepare to launch into hyperspace on those days, so he could join you in bed and hold you close once more.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts once more, reaching for a bag of dried fruit you had picked up shortly after landing on Ryloth, which was where the Razor Crest had been parked while Din tracked down the bounty.

You had let out a sigh of relief when you had initially landed, glad Din wouldn’t have to face temperate conditions that his beskar suit was most definitely not equipped for. It was a bit humid here, with lush valleys and jungles, but nothing he wasn’t used to. While there were many friendly faces on Tatooine, the place seemed like one big heat trap, which genuinely had you concerned about the wellbeing of the man covered in at least half his weight in metal.

You smiled down at the kid in your hands as he fiddled with the bag to try and undo the top. His little fingers and claws seemed simultaneously too sharp and soft to properly get a grip on it, so you released the pressure that was holding the bag together for him and let him dig in. You nearly shed a tear when he extended his three-fingered hand out towards you, holding a rather large piece of fruit that he wanted you to have.

You tapped his nose and deepened your smile, graciously accepting his offering. “Thanks, bud.”

However, as you chewed, your jaw grew heavy as you focused on a distant sound. The fruit in your mouth was no longer relevant as you couldn’t help but feel like something was off. The sound could be best described as a faint clunking, which you were used to hearing thanks to your fellow shipmate.

After quickly swallowing your food and releasing the kid from your grip, you stood up and approached one of the side ramps of the ship. You pressed your ear against it while it was still closed, focusing on the sound. Not many people were around in the remote area Din had landed, so you could only assume it was the Mandalorian himself. However, his steps were usually uniform and certain, this sounded… off.

If Din was in there with you, he would probably tell you to do the exact opposite of what you were about to do. He wasn’t though, and you were willing to take the risk because you already had a bad feeling about what you might see.

You stepped back and pressed the button which allowed the ramp to begin to descend and open up. You glanced at your green companion, ensuring he was too preoccupied with the food in his hand before glancing out into the now revealed landscape around you.

You were immediately shocked to see the familiar glint reflection off of Din’s armor as he made his way towards the Crest. It wasn’t his presence that shocked you ‒ it was the fact that he seemed to be limping.

Fucking limping? That’s just… not like him at all. He doesn’t do that. Not the mighty Mandalorian that you know. You knew something was wrong, but the limping wasn’t the only thing you were concerned with. He was carrying the bounty on his shoulders, something you had never seen him do before. Usually, if they were ‘warm,’ as you liked to call them, he would grab their arm and push them towards the ship. If they were ‘cold,’ he would drag them or find some type of ship or transport to get them to where he was parked. Never have you ever seen him do something like this.

Granted, this bounty happened to be female and had a very small frame. She was Twi’lek, emphasis on was, because she didn’t appear to be alive anymore. Nice one Mando.

You weren’t one for violence unless it was justified, but then again, who was? You trusted Din, however, and judging by how he was walking this bounty likely put up a worthy fight and he did what he had to. Still, seeing him bringing in bounties this way never failed to remind you just how capable and strong the man - who was now almost a couple of feet from you - was.

You moved out of the way to allow him in as he approached you, but you were shocked to see him having to pause and catch his breath. You looked him up and down and upon further notice could see a couple of patches of crimson liquid on both his armor and bits of fabric that clung to him.

Immediately, you were out the doorway, walking down the ramp and approaching the man. “Are you okay? Here.” You reached for him as you spoke, gently brushing his outer arm when he was swatting you away and ascending the ramp himself.

“Thanks for the offer, cyar'ika, but I can handle mysel-” The armored man was cut off as he nearly collapsed at the top of the stairs, his hand that was not gripping the bounty shooting out to clutch at his side. You were by him in seconds, supporting what you could of his weight from behind and looking around him to assess the situation.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. “Din, did you get stabbed?!” You exclaimed, noticing how saturated his hand had become with what you could only assume to be his own blood.

After several seconds of silence on Mando’s end, you decided to take matters into your own hands. Covering his gloved hand with your bare one and applying some pressure, you walked him a bit farther into the hull and closed the ramp that led outside. The bright lights in the ship switched on, illuminating the area better than the quickly diminishing natural light as the planet had begun to grow dark.

You then did your best to back him towards the carbonite chamber, but you weren’t sure how you were going to get him to crouch down and put the bounty in to be frozen.

“Okay, if you weren’t bleeding out right now I would totally be teasing you about the fact that you decided to carry a bounty on your back after being literally stabbed, but for right now I’m going to need you to work with me.” You said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. It seemed to have worked as you heard a faint laugh through the modulator, but then it was followed quickly by a grimace that had you frowning.

You knew Din could handle himself, but as someone who cared for the guy, to say that you were concerned would be an understatement. In fact, you were on the verge of freaking out, but you knew you had to keep up your calm composure for the sake of the man in front of you.

You had to clean that wound soon as you knew it was prone to infection, so you had to be quick about figuring out what to do with the literal body on Din’s back.

You stepped towards the chamber and opened it, and glanced at the bounty. You were strong, sure, Din made sure he trained you to protect yourself in case of emergencies and whatnot. However, you had never carried a person - except the little green man - much less a dead one. So, naturally, you did the next best thing: dragged her off of Din and straight-up pushed her into the chamber. It was awkward, messy, and rushed, but you did what you had to, and Din didn’t seem to complain.

“Oh yeah!” You exclaimed, pressing the button next to the chamber and encapsulating the woman in carbonite. Your victory was only celebrated briefly, however, as you knew there were more pressing matters at hand.

Din was now leaning against a crate, still gripping his side. You approached him, extending your arm towards him once more, smiling when he let you do what you had intended to earlier before when he nearly collapsed. You slowly moved his hand out of the way, glad to see that a stream of blood didn’t come cascading out of the wound when he did so. You placed your own hand on the area, feeling the thick fabric that he wears around his midsection which seemed to have prevented the blade of whatever stabbed him from doing any major damage. He definitely got injured, but not to the point where the pain that accompanies it is debilitating.

The attacker seemed to get him in the single, small area of unarmored length on Din’s side. You huffed at that, of course they did. You glanced around, looking for a medkit but were not successful. There was one in the refresher, but you really didn’t want to leave Din right now.

“Go, I’ll be fine.” The man in front of you spoke, and you could swear the helmet had mind-reading capabilities because you would need more than one hand to count the number of times he’s just… known things.

You flicked your eyes up to where his own would be under the helmet. “Okay, but if you die, that’s not on me.”

“You know I could do this on my own?” You heard him say with a chuckle as you walked into the refresher, opening the small cabinet that contained what you were looking for. Of course, he could do this himself ‒ you had seen him do it before when he arrived injured while you were asleep or preoccupied with something that couldn’t be set aside like caring for the kid. Din would sometimes sit in the refresher for hours, worrying the shit out of you each time, but nevertheless proved that he could indeed care for himself after especially dangerous run-ins with enemies. The man had a whole life before meeting you, and it was in those times that you were reminded of that information. Still, you were here now and genuinely cared for the man. The least you could do is help him out when he is in need, knowing that he would do the same for you in a pinch.

As you looked around the refresher, you remembered that you had some bacta onboard, somewhere, but you didn’t think that he needed it. You’ve seen him get some nasty cuts and wounds in the past, and he surely had the scars to prove it. All of those times, he simply cleaned and dressed them, seemingly saving the slimy substance for serious life-threatening injuries. Not to mention, the stuff wasn’t cheap, and Din was still cohesive - for the most part - so you knew that the contents of the medkit should suffice. You also made sure to wash your hands, and grab a cloth and run some warm water over it so that you could further treat his wound and provide him some relief.

Provide him some relief. You couldn’t help snort but at the innuendo that phrase suggested. If you weren’t tending to an injured man currently, you would probably let your mind wander more, but you shook yourself out of the thought and began to head back towards Din.

“Wait! Could you...turn around?” You heard Din yell, and immediately you faced the opposite direction from him. He took his helmet off, and probably most of his armor ‒ you could tell from the lack of modulation masking his voice when he called out to you. You were used to him taking it off around you, especially at night, and on the rare occasion when you would share a meal. You had nothing but respect for his oath to the Way and to remain as anonymous as possible, but damn, sometimes you just wanted to turn him around and gaze into what you were sure to be the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. Granted, you’d seen some weird types of eyes across the galaxy, including the kid’s black-brown irises. Still, the eyes are the way to the soul - or so they say - and you wanted nothing more than to know Din in that way.

Din’s panting is what brought you out of your thoughts this time. He seemed to be breathing rhythmically, in through the nose and out through the mouth. You could definitely understand why he would want the helmet off for this, and you were willing to give him all the time he needed. However, you couldn’t help but worry about the literal exposed wound on the side of his abdomen, so shutting your eyes, you decided to head towards him the best you could.

You stuck your arms out and guided yourself towards him, thankful for once in your life for all of the days you spent in this very hull to help you make your way to your companion.

Once you reached him, you reached out and your hand collided with his armor less thigh. He had sat on the crate, you could tell from the direction of the deep breaths that he was taking to calm himself and the bend in his knees in front of you.

You felt around on the crate, placing the medkit on it and feeling something smooth and cold. Taking the helmet into your hands, you turned towards where you assumed Din was, and began to reach up so that you could once again cover his face to dress and clean his wound.

“Wait,” Din said, reaching for you and angling your body and arms slightly so that your hands were correctly positioned over his head.

“What? You didn’t want me to whack you in the face?” You said sarcastically, feeling his hand continue to guide you to where his face was, your eyes still shut.

You swear you could physically hear him roll his eyes as you placed the helmet over his head, noticing how soft his hair felt as your hands slid over it.

You opened your eyes and glanced down at his injury, taking a knee so that you had better access to it. Opening the medkit, you pulled out a wipe meant for cleaning the wound, a bandage, and some healing cream infused with weak yet fast-healing bacta extracts.

You reached up at the torn fabric, which was no longer affixed directly to his skin due to the armor and belt he was previously wearing. Pulling on it slightly, the already ripped fabric provided no resistance as you ripped it a bit more so you could do what you had to do.

“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a new one.” You joked, once again attempting to ease him from the pain he was most likely experiencing. You put on a serious face after making light of the situation, as a warning of what was to come. “This is going to sting a little more than normal, bear with me, okay?” You said, opening the packet containing the cleansing wipe.

Din nodded, and you heard him start to say something, but he clenched up and groaned as the wipe brushed against his wound, his hand shooting out to grab your forearm on instinct.

“It’s okay, I know.” You said, trying to be as reassuring as possible. You knew Din could take it, he was the fucking Mandalorian after all, but the pain felt while disinfecting wounds of this scope was probably unimaginable. You were lucky that you had Din protecting you, nearly ensuring that you would never have to feel anything like that for the rest of the time you spent with him ‒ which you hoped was forever.

Din’s hand was still heavy on your arm, and you paused your swiping movements to unlatch his fingers from it and offer him your hand instead. He accepted it, wrapping his fingers around it as if he was about to beat you at a round of arm wrestling. The image of him arm wrestling you was now etched in your mind forever, and you nearly chuckled out loud at the thought but forced it out of your head and you brought your hand holding the wipe up once more.

“Don’t be afraid to squeeze ‒ I’m a big girl, I can take it.” You say, closing the space between the wipe and his injury once again. He tensed up once again, once again groaning but channeling some of the pain from the stinging sensation out of him as he gripped your hand tight.

When you felt you had disinfected the area effectively and were close to receiving a broken hand, you tossed the wipe to the side and replaced it with the warm cloth. You heard Din let out a sigh of relief, his body slumping slightly.

You sat there in silence, soothing the best you could as he continued to hold your hand. You were at peace, like this, slightly starting to massage what little of Din’s skin that you had access to. You had felt it before, when he would sling an arm over you at night, ensuring that you were safe and warm in his grasp. Now, however, as he sat here, he seemed so innocent, so exposed to you, with a vulnerability you had never seen in him, even when he would open up to you at night while holding you close.

“She had a boyfriend,” Din said suddenly, breaking the silence. The statement made you tense up. Okay? She had a boyfriend? You assumed he was talking about the bounty but had no idea why he would even bring it up.

“What, are you trying to make sure I don’t get jealous or something?” You replied, not putting much thought into the statement until you were met with nothing but silence from the man in front of you.

“Oh… uh, I meant, that uh- she-” You stammered, pausing your movements while you did so and staring at anything but Mando.

Din reached out to you then, tracing your cheek with the back of his hand and placing it under your chin, angling towards his visor.

“Cyar’ika…” He began, tilting his head at you when you tried to pull away from him.

You closed your eyes and frowned, ashamed at yourself for saying something so possessive to Din, when you didn’t even know if what you felt for him was at all what he felt for you. You knew he cared for you, but you didn’t know if he liked you in that way. You almost physically cringed at how you were thinking in such childish terms, but it was all you could process at the time.

Din’s retracting arm caught your attention, bringing you out of your head for the time being. You went to look at him once more, but you were met with the palm of his hand over your eyes.

“Do you trust me?” You heard him ask, and without hesitation, you nodded. You felt like you could hear the smirk on his face when he saw you shake your head so eagerly, and your suspicions were confirmed when a chuckle left Din’s lips. However, this laugh was unmodulated ‒ had he taken the helmet off once again?

“Din, why did you‒” You were cut off abruptly by his lips pressing against yours. If Din’s hand wasn’t pressed against them, your eyes would’ve shot open because you literally wouldn’t be able to believe what you were feeling. Here was the man you had spent days on end thinking about in this way, never expecting any of your fantasies to come to light. Now, as you leaned forward to deepen the kiss, you felt like the happiest girl in the galaxy.

His tongue ran across your lips as they began to part for him, and suddenly you were tasting him, memorizing this new, unexplored area of his body that you had yet to experience. It was everything you dreamt of and more: his lips were so soft and full, and they molded with yours like they were destined to meet in this way. He tasted like honey, his tongue brushing against your own as you felt his hot breath against your lips when he exhaled.

He pulled back, smiling as you tried to get his lips back on yours again. “It’s always only been you, cyar’ika. Always.”

It was your turn to smile, as you leaned in once more, but were turned around by Din so that you were facing away from him. He leaned forward, and you could once again feel his warm breath, but this time it was on your neck, where he planted a soft kiss.

“What I had meant to say…” he started, kissing the other side of your neck this time, "was that the bounty had a boyfriend. He caught me off guard as I was taking her down.” He continued kissing down your neck, making you start breathing as heavy as he was earlier when he had first arrived on the ship.

“Din…” you said, still in complete shock that any of this was even happening.

He smiled against the skin of your neck. “I still love hearing my name from your lips, mesh’la.” He said, pulling back to plant one final kiss on your head before you heard him placing the helmet back on his shoulders.

You turned around to dress his wound, which is why you had even initiated this interaction in the first place, but sighed and pinched your forehead as you glanced at his wound once again. He was bleeding once again, probably from all the shifting he had done while kissing you.

Din looked down as well, looking back up at your eyes after seeing what you saw.

“You better not be smirking under there Mando,” you said, refusing to use the name he had just complimented you on using.

“You know me so well, cyar’ika,” Din replied, and you swear that was the exact moment you truly, undoubtedly, fell in love with him.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #mando gets a boo-boo #hurt/comfort #mandalorian fanfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #cyar'ika #star wars

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years

Text

No Light, Dead End;

full masterlist

Pairings: Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 2,812

Warning: SMUT!!!! slight dub-con. slight dark!steve but with feelingsᵀᴹ.

Summary: takes place after civil war and before infinity war because who is she? we don’t know her. after the avengers were divided due to the accords, you went on the run with steve, natasha and sam. during on the run, your relationship with steve had been going through a rough patch until one day, you decided to leave him. but he made sure that you knew who you belong to.

a/n: this one is for @mariessecretfantasies‘ 500 follower writing challenge! i chose prompt #8 ““No light, no light in your bright blue eyes. I never knew daylight could be so violent.” No Light, No Light- Florence + the Machine” i wanted to write something anguish but with a hint of darkness, just enough to spice it up. cause we all love possessive, slightly crazy steve, right? 😌 please leave a like & comment! enjoy.

You stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door behind you. You just had another quarrel with your grouchy boyfriend, Steve. He wasn’t always like this though. He used to be the heroic face of America after all… Used to be. He was a man with perseverance, sagacity, and altruism. All his life, he wanted nothing but to help others. To serve his country. But all that changed since the Accords.

The whole country decided to turn its back on their favorite golden boy aka Captain America. The man they used to look up to and call out for when miscreants exterminated the city and when aliens invaded the planet.

He was a man with assertive morals, never doubting his purpose and his will. And the whole world agreed. Until his best friend, Bucky Barnes was accused of the bombing of the UN in Vienna and was shortly located where he had been hiding for the past couple of years.

Steve Rogers had faith in his former best friend who could barely remember him when he said that he wasn’t the one who committed the crime. But the whole country didn’t. And so, through all the battle at the airport in Germany, and the unauthorized flight to Siberia and the grievous alteration of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes to a group of wanted felons, you stuck and stayed with him.

You had faith in the man you fell in love with a year ago and you knew his true heart. That deep down, no matter what the world paints him to be, you will always believe that he was still the same selfless hero. A battered soldier with nothing but pure intentions. He had lost so much in his stolen lifetime, so you understood his desperate wish to keep his best friend alive and out of heavily guarded prison.

And so, after the final battle with Tony Stark in Siberia, Steve and Bucky agreed that it would be best for everyone if Bucky went back to cryostasis chamber until Princess Shuri finds a way to fix him. King T’Challa had made peace with the fact that Zemo was the one who murdered his father, and he realized that Bucky was only a victim just as much as T’Chaka was, so he allowed him to stay in their land and agreed to mend the broken man.

After Bucky was back under the ice, Steve went back to The Raft and reunited with Sam, Wanda, Scott, and Clint, releasing them out of the Arctic prison facility. Whilst, Wanda and Vision agreed to lay low and started a secret life together in Scotland, Clint and Scott went back to their residents under prohibition.

You, Steve, Natasha, and Sam on the other hand, went on a run, as a group of uncivilized nomads, living in crummy motels and working vigilante jobs in the dark. You changed your looks and camouflaged within the crowds. And this was the turning point.

Your relationship with Steve hadn’t been the same since the fallout. He became rougher around the edges, sterner, and crueler. Some days, you couldn’t even remember what his genuine smile looked like anymore. How his eyes used to gleam so brightly, you could see your lucid reflection on them. How he’d hold you so tightly, you felt nothing but his warmth after he passionately made love to you for hours.

How did you get here? You had lost count of how many times you had fought with Steve Rogers. Small sparks of fire growing into a massive one, burning the entire house down. You could feel the heat all over the room when his voice roars so loud and your words cracked through your lips due to the unwanted tears threatening to fall.

Hurtful words were tossed, if the walls could talk, they’d tell you the lunacy that echoed night and day when you and Steve are going at it. You two were crazy, mad people in love. Or at least you used to be. Not only him who changed after the Accords, but so did you. You became more reticent, more practical, and more indignant.

Whenever you were on stealthy missions, Steve would always order you around like you were nothing but a fellow soldier. He’d talk down on you like there was no history between you when you disagree with him. Whenever you made the slightest mistake, he’d deprecate you like you were a delinquent, untamed child.

Sam and Natasha were aware of the lingering tension in the room when you two were on bad terms, but they didn’t know how excruciating it could get behind closed doors. Whenever you stared into his electric blue eyes, you didn’t find the same vivacity or earnestness anymore. All you sensed was rage and darkness.

Darkness so steep and hollow, that sometimes you’d find yourself getting lost and trapped in them. Like he could devour you and crush you by a single fist of his palm. Deep down, you wanted to get your Steve back. The considerate and faithful man you fell in love with. The man who would bring you flowers from his morning run because they just reminded him of you. The man who would kiss your shoulders in the morning to gently wake you up, because he didn’t have the heart to disturb your peaceful state, but he needed to hear your voice.

Often times, you’d wonder if it was still possible to go back to the way you used to be. But he had been so hardened by the arduous circumstances now, that it sounds like a fairytale if you could go more than 5 minutes to have a decent conversation.

“Fuck you, Steve! You don’t fucking get to tell me what to do, you hear me?”

“Yes, I do! I’m your Captain. Watch your language.”

“I don’t fucking care. You are not the Captain anymore. You ungrateful asshole! I can’t believe I stuck with you after you became a criminal. You don’t fucking deserve it. You don’t fucking deserve me.”

“What are you gonna do, sweetheart? You’re gonna run back to the compound and sign the Accords? Well, guess what? The first thing they’re gonna do as soon as you show your pretty little face, is they’d cuff you up. And when they lock you up in the Raft, I’m not going back to save you ass.”

“I don’t fucking need you to. I’d rather be locked up in the middle of the Atlantic ocean rather than spending one more goddamn second with your grumpy, irritating ass.”

He stayed silent. His back was to you now. His shoulder slumped as he leaned his hands on the table. He listened to your hasty movements as you stormed into the bedroom that you hadn’t shared in a while. Since you two had been at each other’s throats nearly every day, he’d sleep on the couch while you get the bed.

The truth is, Steve still loved you just as deeply. But things had changed, and he couldn’t pretend that everything was okay just because he was still madly in love with you. He had to be tougher now, he constantly had to watch his back. He couldn’t afford to be distracted even for just one second when the whole world was looking for him and the entire country wanted him penalized.

He also had to be hard on you, because you knew that if any of you let your guard down, you’d be doomed. You could be caught. Or worse, you could be killed. Not only the villains who wanted you dead now… Thaddeus Ross had made it clear that if it’s necessary, he wouldn’t hesitate on shooting any of you on sight.

So he tried to forget the man that he was, stripped himself out of the Captain America mantle, and lived as Nomad now. He was fine with that, although it took him a while to get used to the slummy hotel rooms or sometimes, abandoned safe houses. And Nomads don’t maintain a lovey-dovey relationship and kiss each other dearly while cleaning each other off in the shower.

No, Nomads creep in the shadow and have each other’s backs in combats. Even if it means one of them had to be the meaner guy. As long as his allies were safe and returned in one piece, then that’s all that matters. He couldn’t care any less if they no longer liked him as a comrade.

And the thought of losing you terrified the shit out of his soul. The kind that he couldn’t shake away because somewhere, deep down, he knew it was inevitable. This line of work didn’t promise him safety insurance. Literally and figuratively, now that he was no longer claimed by the government or the Avengers.

So if talking to you as if you were nothing but a fellow soldier will remind you that you both no longer had the luxury to plan your next date night or cuddle in the sheets at night to keep each other warm, then he was going to do what’s necessary.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear you pack up your bags and stepped out of the room with your travel bag in your shoulder. You didn’t have that many personal belongings anyway. When he stole the Quinjet, you couldn’t go back to the compound to pack up all of your stuff and say your farewell to the rest who stayed, so along the way, you bought just enough clothes to have something to wear other than your battle gear. So most of your things were left in the compound, just like the entire journey over 5 years with the Avengers.

Steve and you had said a lot of things neither of you really meant when things were heated up, but he could live with that as long as you were safe and he could keep an eye on you. He’d let you have your moment of tranquility, knowing that when daylight comes, you’ll have to fight another day and bleed.

He thought that tonight was just another night where you two claw each other’s skin but would act as if nothing happened last night in front of Sam and Natasha. You had threatened to leave more times than he could count but you never did it. Just like the rest of the things you said. Meaningless contempt.

But this time, you were out of your mind. You really could be such a force to be reckoned with sometimes. That’s why he fell in love with you in the first place, but it would often drive him crazy too. And not the good kind.

He turned around and saw you sprinting toward the door. You were dressed in all black; black jacket, black shirt, black jeans, and black sneakers. He was confused at what you were doing but he maintained his calm posture and stayed in the same spot where he had been standing, with his hands on his hips.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“I’m leaving. I can’t spend one more goddamn second with you. I’m done.”

Steve didn’t even try to hide his panic. He really thought you were joking or maybe you were going somewhere to calm your head, then you’d come back. But no, you were really leaving this time.

“Hey, hey! Don’t be fucking ridiculous. You are not going anywhere.”

“Yes, I am. And you can’t stop me.”

“Stop acting stupid and just calm down for a sec.” He reached out for you but you flinched, not wanting to hear any more of his bollocks.

“Get your fucking hands off me, Steve. Before I break every single one of your fingers.” You swatted his hand.

Suddenly, his demeanor changed. You saw it in his eyes, the flash of that shift. The one that you had been seeing a lot these days. The alteration from Steve Rogers to Captain America. Or more suitably, America’s Golden Boy to The Most Wanted Criminal. You’d be lying if you weren’t a tad frightened by that darkness in him, but you weren’t going to lay it out on your hands and present it to him. You were no coward.

Rest in peace, to your naive bravado… Your headlessness had backfired.

Steve slammed you into the wall behind you as he grabbed you by the throat, inching his face closer to yours. You could hear his labored breathing, sweeping on your skin, his eyes glared at you, locking you in place.

Your hands immediately went to his, trying to break free out of his tightening grip, cutting off your airway. “S-Steve…” You tried to get him off of you by striking his face, but he still wouldn’t relent. He immediately dragged you to the couch, as you nearly stumbled on your feet.

“You think you can just run and leave me? Stupid girl. Looks like you need a reminder of your place.”

“St- Steve! Stop!” As your back hit the couch. You tried to stand on your feet but was abruptly stopped by his hand on your shoulders, pushing you back down. “Shut the fuck up.” He grabbed your waist as he turned you around, so you were reclined on your chest. His hand immediately went to grab a fistful of your hair as he whispered into your ears, “you really wanna push my limits huh? Riling me up like a stupid little brat, thinking you can get away with it. Hell no. I’m gonna show you the consequences of your foolishness, little girl.”

Then he slammed you back down as he immediately pulled down your pants with your underwear along with it. You thrashed your body, trying to push him away but it was futile. Steve lifted up your hips, so you were standing on your knees. Then you felt a harsh smack on your ass, eliciting a raw yelp out of you. He did it once more, and more, and more, until your tears started to leak out of the corner of your eyes. You lost your ability to speak, trembling from the excruciating pain.

Just when you thought the torment was over, you heard the clank of his buckle as you instantly turned around to see what he was doing. The hastened glance was enough to verify your fear. You immediately pushed yourself on your hands and attempted to get up but you couldn’t as he quickly pushed you back down with his massive hand and held you there. His other hand went to his cock as he lined himself up to your entrance, intruding your body violently without any warning.

His hand that was on your back, went to your other hand along with the other, to pin them behind your back as strictly as a cuff. Then he began to drive his hips into you until he was fully seated. He groaned due to the pleasure. He slammed back into you and out. He repeated his motion until you couldn’t help but feel the tightening coil inside of you. He startled you in your hazy state with another spank on your ass. You squealed.

“I can feel your cunt tightening around me, little girl. See? I told you you could never leave me. You belong to me. Only I can make you feel this good.” He gritted between his vigorous thrusts. You couldn’t even focus on his mortifying words anymore when you could feel your climax was approaching. You were so close. A few more slams by his hips and then, you fell apart.

You moaned in pleasure as your release was prolonged by his still unrelenting thrusts, attempting to reach his own climax. You closed your eyes in bliss, as you could feel the fight in you had drained. You couldn’t think of anything else or remember the way you ended up being fucked hard on this couch. You were still lying in the same position, with your face pressed on the couch and hands restrained behind your back as you heard Steve groaned from behind you.

You could feel his warm cum unleashed deep inside you as Steve pushed a few shallow thrusts to deplete every drop of semen. When he was completely finished, he pulled out of you and unloose your wrists as he sat on the couch. You were paralyzed. Despite him not holding you down anymore, you still couldn’t find the energy or will in yourself to move or carry on with your plan.

You were too wearied to start any altercation anymore so you just laid there as your eyes started to droop. Before you were completely dazed out, a gravel voice whispered to you like the sound of the wind blowing; subtle but crystal. “I’m not done with you yet, babygirl. I’ve got all night to remind you who you belong to.”

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staranon95 · 3 years

Text

DinCobb Week Day 4: AU/Freebie (SFW)

for @dincobbweek this time we’re returning to a favourite AU of mine. The Halo universe!

i’ve previously explored a Halo/Mandalorian AU. the first story is very much NSFW but this story acts as a prequel showing how Cobb and Din meet in that verse

before we get started here is some very handy terminology

ODST - Orbital Drop Shock Trooper Spartan - a term for someone who was a child soldier and given physical augmentations to become a weapon ONI - Office of Naval Intelligence (so like the in universe FBI) UNSC - United Nations Space Corp (the army but in space) Covenant - invading alien forces and the main villains in the series Reach - a planet humans had settled that was destroyed by the Covenant

AO3 Link

Blast Radius

When Cobb was told by his CO to expect some heavy infantry of reinforcements, he was expecting another ODST squadron, not a Spartan III whose black and silver armour made him look more like an ONI operative than a functioning war machine for the UNSC.

Now granted, Cobb had nothing against Spartans. Spartans were the reason they were even managing to hold their own against the Covenant. But he did have a problem with this Spartan.

“Sergeant Vanth?”

Cobb looked up from the view into New Mombasa to see his Lieutenant Jo leading forward a heavily armed Spartan.

“Infantry’s arrived,” she said, and Cobb wished she didn’t have her helmet on so he could read her better.

“Sergeant Vanth,” the Spartan said. “Spartan A114 reporting in.” The Spartan then snapped to it and saluted him to show that he knew how to respect his superiors, but Cobb knew better. Spartans had a reputation to Lone Wolf it, and Cobb didn’t need that shit on his team.

“A Spartan,” he said incredulously. The Spartan easily towered over him by nearly a foot. All those augmentations and front of the line armour specs only added to the mass that made all Spartans seem unkillable. But in Cobb’s eyes, it made them cocky as well. “Wasn’t expecting a Spartan.”

“It was all they had on hand to offer,” 114 said.

“Right, well, settle in, big guy. We’re mainly search and rescue. Free hostages and get them to safety while clearing out the nests, you hear?”

114 nodded. “Loudly.” He unhooked a sniper rifle from his back and moved forward to join the rest of Cobb’s team with the look out—without needing to be told or looking to be told.

Cobb sighed. It was going to be a long fight.

…

“Vanth, come in.”

“Go ahead, Issa.”

“I’m spotting Jakal reinforcements on the rooftops. Beam rifles from the looks of it.”

“All. Squad, keep your ears on and your heads low and—”

Cobb heard a crack over head and ducked low as a second one followed shortly after. He held his battle rifle up as he looked for the source of the shots.

“Jakals are cleared. You’re free to go.”

That was 114.

Cobb sighed and clicked his tongue. “A heads up would be nice next time, 114.”

“Time’s of the essence, Sergeant.” Then he heard a ‘click’ and Cobb knew the bastard had likely muted on his end.

Fucking Spartans.

…

New Mombasa was a fucking mess. Based on the chatter they were picking up, the Covenant forces seemed to become more and more contained to one part of the city, like they were congregating. Other ODST squads had been deployed to hotter areas in the city, and Cobb’s smaller strike team made it easier for infiltration to minimalize casualties. They were the cleaning crew, really, and Cobb didn’t mind that.

But he did mind that his Spartan was deathly silent most of the time.

He had 114 act as their eyes. With his high-powered scope, he was able to get a better view of the terrain before Cobb’s team went down in to clear it out, and Cobb had to admit, 114 was a good shot. Those enhanced reflexes sure came in clutch in the best ways possible, but Cobb was expecting at least some communication on his end.

114 acted like a brick wall and Cobb hated it. He knew nothing of the Spartan, didn’t even know his name, and while it was nice to be fighting with someone who was this well skilled, Cobb didn’t know if he’d choose 114 over another top notch ODST squad.

“Looks like we got a standard fair here,” Jo said. “Couple of Brutes. Grunts as back up and a Jakal nest.”

Cobb nodded. “You see a Chieftain?”

“Nah, looks like pretty standard fare for them.”

“Good. Listen up! We clear this intersection and that gets us one step closer to the bank. You play it safe and you play it hard. Cover always. Focus fire on Jakals and Grunts and then the Brutes. Clear the field before we got in heavy. Got it?”

He received a chorus of Oo Rahs! and then utter silence from 114. “Hey, Spartan, you got that?”

The Spartan nodded and said nothing.

“Good. I want you on that roof top. Take the Jakals and then we move in. Provide cover from the Brutes if they get close.”

“I think it’d be better if I were on the ground with you,” the Spartan said, and Cobb was surprised he said anything at all—let alone battle advice.

“No,” Cobb said. “You’re best on the rooftops.”

“But—”

“That’s an order, Spartan.”

He could see that 114 was frustrated with how he tightened his grip around his sniper, but he fell in line all the same and marched off to find a perch of the sight before the team moved in to clear the junction.

“Get into position,” he said to his team, and they all crouched for cover and waited for 114 to get into position.

He looked through the scope of his battle rifle and scoped out the scene. Four Brutes, half a dozen Grunts, and two Jakals. Nothing in comparison to what Cobb had dealt with before, but it was better to play things safe and slow rather than to rush in.

“114, check in,” he said.

Silence.

“114, this is Sergeant Vanth. Check in.”

Again, silence. And then he knew why.

Rather than targeting the Jakals first and letting the squadron in there was a sudden explosion that caught Cobb off guard. 114 had discharged a round into one of the plasma cells stacked in the area that took the Covenant force by surprise, killing one Brute in the onslaught. Then Cobb saw 114 jump into the fray from what should’ve been his perch, taking a running jump to clear a distance of a dozen or so feet and come to the ground in a roll to lessen the impact from a fifteen foot drop. Then he struck with deadly precision on the Covenant left recovering from the shock.

“Fuck,” Cobb said. “Issa, eyes on the Jakals.”

“You got it, Sarge.”

“The rest of you, eyes forward! Now!”

He leapt over his cover, raised his rifle against his shoulder and began to pick off the Grunts one by one, while 114 aimed for the Brutes. And he was doing so with just a magnum pistol and a knife.

One of the Brutes raised his spiker in Cobb’s direction, and he dove down behind a concrete barrier as the deadly spikes imbedded themselves into the asphalt where he had just been standing previously. A Grunt jumped into his field of vision on his left and he turned and fired, hitting the Grunt’s methane tank, which he saw spark and catch before it blew. He raised his hands for cover and then looked over the barrier to see the field. The Grunts were fleeing. The Jakals were dead, and 114 was locked in combat with the only remaining Brute until he managed to drive his knife into the Brute’s throat and finish it off with a shot from the magnum until the Brute fell dead.

Cobb charged up to him. “What was that!?”

114 wiped his knife off his vambrace before sheathing it. “I told you. It was better to have me on the ground.”

“You disobeyed an order!” It was hard to feel commanding in contrast to a Spartan, who towered over Cobb in every way and could likely throw him up against the wall.

“It was efficient. You aren’t using me for my skills.” It also didn’t help that 114 was a calm speaker, rarely showing any form of inflection.

“Your skills are firing cover. My team can handle the job on their own. Disobey me like that again and I’ll see you reassigned.”

The Spartan looked at him, head tilted down in his direction. For the longest time he didn’t move until he took a half step back.

“Clear?” Cobb said.

“Clear, Sergeant.”

“Good.”

He looked over his shoulder to his team and waved them forward. “We’re moving.”

…

Scrounging in conditions like this were hard. Training to be an ODST required a certain amount of time in the field already before jumping into training specifically to handle an orbital drop. And then from there it was ‘survive until you group up or you’re pulled out’, which meant with the sun falling on the city that was burning, it was time to break for an MRE and some water before the final push into the heart of the city to help with the withdrawal of ONI scientists. It was the last job before the UNSC was pulling out the troops, which meant that ONI was going nuclear with its facilities so it wouldn’t fall into the hands of the enemy. New Mombasa was being abandoned in the short run. Once the Covenant was off Earth, they’d probably try to rebuild, but for now, it was pull back and see what happened.

It was nice, for a moment to sit on the ground with his back against the wall and his helmet off. It could’ve been a nice day in the city. The sun was warm. There was a breeze cooling his sticky skin from the sweat when the internal fans in his helmet couldn’t cool him fast enough.

But then he saw the Spartan who stood there rigidly off to the side of their little encampment. He had his back to the rest of them and seemed as if he was still on patrol despite the fact that the area was safe and they needed to rest before the final push.

Cobb sighed and got to his weary feet. He walked forward, grabbing at his pouch for one of the MREs he still had left. “Hey, Spartan.”

114 only turned to look over his shoulder.

“You eat yet?”

“Not hungry,” he said, before looking over the highway they were on and the sheer drop it led to.

“Come on, partner. You gotta eat. We’ve been going for near twelve hours and at least another twelve yet before we’re out for good.” Cobb stepped in front of him and handed out the MRE. He didn’t know if Spartans had the same standards as ODSTs. Did he carry MREs? Looked like he had water at the least.

Then 114 did lift his hand and take the MRE from Cobb’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Nothin’ to it, pal.” He stepped back, slapped 114 on the arm, and went back to his squad.

Then, when Cobb was sitting on the ground once more, he saw the Spartan move to a concrete barrier and take a seat. Then he removed his helmet, showing only a shock of dark hair, overgrown by UNSC standards. He didn’t see his face, but at least the Spartan ate.

…

Their final push into New Mombasa was the ONI facility itself, a giant cube looking building built in the center of a manmade pond to look fancy. It was a rough sight, but under the cover of darkness, it wasn’t like Cobb could see it all that well. All he was looking at was the sight of four ONI scientists being overlooked by a Covenant strike team—which included a Brute Chieftain.

Chieftains were worse than the usual foot soldier Brutes. Their armour was heavier, including armour that could only be struck through or cracked at the very least with specific armour piercing rounds. Chieftains also usually carried heavier weaponry, and this one had a gravity hammer on his back.

“They’ll want to keep the scientists alive,” Cobb said. “That’ll be our advantage to get in. Issa, what do you see?”

“By my count? Five Brutes on top of the Chieftain. A dozen Grunts. Jakals with shields but no beam rifles.”

“The structure doesn’t make good for sniper nests,” Jo added.

“114, you there?” Cobb asked.

“I’m here.”

“Report in.”

“I’m in position. Not the easiest place to leave in a pinch if you need back up.”

“We’ll go slow,” Cobb said. “Target the Brutes and get them broken up. I don’t want to fight the back.”

“Hear you loud and clear.”

114 went quiet on his end but didn’t mute.

Progress.

Then he turned to the scene at hand to plan the best way forward.

“On your count, 114. You take the lead. We’ll pick off the stragglers.”

“Going loud in three.”

Cobb looked down his scope and breathed in deeply and watched as 114’s first shot landed and struck a brute dead.

“Keep them clear from the hostages,” Cobb said. “I don’t want them taking them anywhere else. Issa, Jo, on me. We’re moving.”

They moved in as a unit before breaking and posting up at the windows that lead into the building they were infiltrating, most of which were broken. Once Cobb had a clear line of sight, he opened fire.

The darkness gave them a natural cover, and with their spread position, the enemy had no idea where they were. They kept the Brutes at bay away from the hostages where they were pressed flat on the floor to cover from the spray of bullets and plasma. For the time being, they had the upper hand until the Brute Chieftain roared and pointed in their direction.

“They’re coming out! Heads up!” Cobb said.

First the Grunts and then the few remaining Jakals which were picked off with deadly precision until the Chieftain himself charged out with his hammer swinging in Jo’s direction.

Cobb stood up from his cover and peppered the Chieftain’s back with bursts of rounds until he turned on Cobb and came in his direction.

“Cobb!” He heard Jo’s concern over the radio, but it was too late.

He rolled and dropped to avoid the Chieftain’s hammer as it discharged a burst that affected the CPU components in Cobb’s armour. But then the Chieftain swung again and the force of it sent him to his back, momentarily stunned before the Chieftain swung the weapon around, showing the sharp edge on the other side of the weapon head before crashing it down on Cobb’s chestplate.

The chestplate cracked under the pressure, and Cobb felt a burst of pain before the force drove the air from his lungs and he laid there, prone and stunned.

His ears were ringing, and he gasped like a fish which only made the wound worse until spots clouded his vision and he blacked out.

He blinked and saw the Chieftain’s armour cracked by an armour piercing round from a sniper.

He blinked again and saw Issa and Jo corner the Chieftain before a second round struck his back before a third struck his neck and he began to tumble.

He blinked and lost sight of what was before him.

…

“Cobb? Cobb.”

“Sarge, lift your right hand if you’re awake.”

“Is he okay?”

“We need to get the hammer out. His lungs could be damaged.”

“I’ll handle that. Hold him steady.”

Pressure on his shoulders, gently so before a wrenching and—

He gasped and coughed, felt pain radiating out from his chest and he tried to raise his hands to cover it, but he was held down gently.

“Spartan, there’s biofoam at his hip.”

“Got it.”

He heard the sound of an aerosol can being applied to his chest before the pressure on his lungs was abated and he could take a deep breath and relax.

“You there, Sarge?”

He nodded and tried to reach back and pat for Issa’s hands.

“Chestplate is cracked,” he heard 114 say. “The biofoam will hold for a few hours, but he needs medical attention.”

“I’ll get to the hostages,” Issa said.

“Evac point is over the bridge,” Jo said. “I’ll post up with Issa and get the hostages to safety. You good with the Sarge?”

“Just fine.”

Then he felt himself being lifted from the ground and cradled close to someone’s chest.

“Hey, Spartan,” he mumbled.

“That was damn reckless. You’re lucky you’re alive.”

“Knew you were watchin’.”

He heard 114 sigh. “Keep your words to yourself, Vanth. This fight isn’t over yet.”

…

He had heavy bruising to his chest and a hairline fracture in his sternum. He was on bedrest for a least a month with another month of light duty. He was lucky his lungs weren’t pierced.

Regardless, he had the luxury of his own private room in an actual hospital and not just a field tent. He was on some medical grade painkillers, and his team was being commended for their bravery. All around successful.

But now with this free time, he intended to do some research—never could abide stagnation for long. He pulled up a datapad and using his UNSC credentials, managed to get into the databases of every active soldier on the ground. He searched for Spartan A114, and as he suspected, he was given a lot of redacted material.

The Spartan III program was still tightly under wraps, but parts of it were being declassified, and through the grapevine, Cobb knew they were different from the old Spartan IIs.

Not as good training facilities. Not as good outcomes or survival rates.

He saw the name ‘Reach’ in 114’s file and knew if the Spartan had survived the planet’s destruction, he was a survivor to reckon with, and also why he didn’t have a fireteam of his own. He probably lost them all in the fray.

Everything else including personal details like date of birth, home planet, and name were redacted, so there wasn’t much else he could look into for the time being. But he did file a request to have 114 placed permanently on his team. He wanted to keep the Spartan close.

…

Friends and teammates would come by and visit him. Issa and Jo in pairs, but then one strange visitor came: a very, very tall man with dark hair, dark eyes, and a neatly kept moustache.

“This seat taken?”

He’d heard that voice of his helmet dozens of times, and Cobb looked at him and couldn’t believe his eyes, that he was seeing the Spartan—his Spartan—out of his armour.

Cobb waved his hand to the chair and pushed a button to have his bed elevated so he could face 114 head on.

It was almost comical to see 114 sit down in a chair not meant for someone of his size, but he made it work. He was dressed in a uniform and not standard military fatigues. There were metals pinned to the beast pocket, and Cobb could see what many of them meant.

“Ceremony?” Cobb asked.

“No. Meeting. I heard you put in a request for me to be made a permanent member of your squad.”

“Well. I liked you. Felt we fought well together eventually. We could use another on our team.”

“I’m surprised you’ve been managing well with only the three of you.”

“Used to be four, but I sacked the other guy.” Cobb shook his head at the memory of Toro and his hot-headed ways. The kid was lucky he hadn’t lost his head if Cobb hadn’t pulled him back time and time again.

“How are you holding up?” 114 asked, eyes drifting to Cobb’s chest and how its swathed with bandage and gauze.

“Eh. Could be worse. Chestplate took the brunt of it though.”

“That’s what it’s for.” 114 breathed in deeply, licked his lips, and looked down at his hands. “It’s . . . it’s good to see you. That you’re okay.”

“Thanks to you.”

“I barely had my sights on him.”

“Hey, Spartan. Look at me.”

He looked up, and Cobb was struck with how upset 114 looked. Upset in almost a sad way.

“I’m here. You killed the Brutes. Hostages made it out. That is a hundred-percent in my books.”

“Still, I . . .” He breathed in, a shuddering breath. “I don’t like watching from afar when my teammates are in the direct line of fire. It makes me feel . . .”

“Like you can’t protect us.”

114 said nothing.

“Listen,” Cobb said. “We can discuss this. Figure out new strategies. My team, we’re new at this. We’ve worked alongside only a handful of Spartans but not directly with one. We’ll figure it out, see what works for the both of us. But I’m not tolerating Lone Wolf shit. We’re a team.”

114 nodded.

“You good, soldier?”

114 raised his head. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Cobb smirked. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Satisfied with that answer, 114 stood and prepared to leave but just before he could get to the door, Cobb called out, “Hey, Spartan. You got a name to add to the A114?”

The Spartan turned to look at him, pulling open the door as he did, and after a moment of hesitation, he said, “Din.”

“Nice to have you, Din. Rest up if you can.”

“Yes, sir.”

#dincobb #din djarin #cobb vanth #dincobbweek #dincobbweek2021 #dincobb week #mandalorian #star speaks #star writes

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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years

Text

The Heir

The Heir Chapter 1

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8.3K

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, masturbation

Notes: I recognize this isn't actually what season 3 will be like but I just need season 3 to come and its not coming fast enough so I'm taking it into my own hands to write whatever I want. I just want the little green alien baby and his space cowboy dad to have a cute reunion is that too much to ask? Self-insert, with reader as "you" but I avoid Y/N stuff. Narrator's perspective refers to Mando as Djarin, Din's perspective is written as Din. Some back and forth with that. I took some liberty with the characterization as well. The rest is my own!

---

The throne room was silent save for your voice echoing from the high ceiling.

"Tell Mon Tarrow that his trade agreement still stands, as long as he keeps up his end of the bargain," you said to the hologram flickering before you. "We get our shipments, he gets his. That is all."

With a swipe of your hand, the hologram disappeared and you leaned back into your seat. This job was difficult, organizing and controlling the most heavily trafficked trade routes in the galaxy. It was not one you had chosen for yourself. But for generations, your family had been in control of the planet Nhora and its lunar outpost, maintaining its status as a neutral party throughout several civil wars, uprisings, revolutions, and revolts. You had inherited that neutrality. Despite attempts from both the Republic and the Empire, your rule had withstood their attacks, keeping peace with your people and ensuring the wealth of successful trade routes.

Turning to your advisor at your elbow, you began to discuss the redistribution of the year's crops when the large doors across the hall opened. It was uncommon for someone to interrupt your daily briefings, though not disallowed. You had an open-door policy when it came to your people; anything that needed your attention should be brought directly to you. It fostered communication and understanding. But the individual who interrupted you was not one of your subjects and was, to put it simply, completely unexpected.

Your advisor immediately silenced, as dumbstruck as you, and the only sounds came from the creature huffing and puffing his way toward you, mumbling some garbled non-language.

Creature was the best way to put it. He was small and green and wore a sack for clothes. Though you couldn't see his legs, they must have been tiny, for he wobbled very slowly towards you. And his ears, good grief those ears, were so large his head teetered back and forth as he walked. The throne room was already large, but it was made even larger by the tiny figure before you, a child, you realized, as he stumbled closer. You eyed the child suspiciously before giving your advisor a look that said, who is this? She only shrugged.

Perhaps this was one of Skywalker's new playthings, you thought. That strange Jedi was always passing through with some oddity or another to trade for supplies. He knew what you liked, gems and stones from other lands, flowers with unique scents, fabrics spun from the thread of ice spiders (very dangerous to come by). In exchange, he had free access to your palace as he pleased before heading off again to who knows where. But this was new. Skywalker never brought you living things that moved of their own accord.

You stood, gathering the long skirts of your robe and stepping off the dais upon which your throne sat. You weren't particularly fond of children, but the sudden appearance of one purposefully crossing the long marble hall and heading straight for you was intriguing. You met the child halfway, stooping over to get a closer look at him, and noticed a fine layer of hair on his wrinkled head.

As you bent over, the child looked up at you and cooed, a little smile on his face. He was admittedly a bit cute, though incredibly ugly.

"Hello, little thing," you said, addressing the child directly. "Who are you?"

He didn't answer, of course, just gurgled strangely. A tiny three-fingered hand reached toward you as if asking to be picked up. You ignored him and stood up straight instead, turning to a guard and sending him out to look for the enigmatic Jedi who was sure to be close behind.

Apparently, the child didn't like being ignored. You felt a sudden tugging at your collar as if someone had taken hold of your necklace and was trying to yank it from your neck. Looking down, you could see the child was still at your feet, hand in the air, but now his eyes were half-closed. You realized with a mix of horror and curiosity that the little one was pulling at your necklace, though not with his fingers but rather with his mind. Perhaps you could have tried to stop him, withheld the piece of jewelry from him, but you were too dumbfounded to try. Why he wanted the chain around your neck you were unsure, but the child would have it one way or another.

The necklace broke with a snap and flew toward him, which he caught in one green paw. The astonishment hung in the room; most had never seen the force in action like this. But you knew.

The force was with this one. Now, you were certain he had to be with the Jedi.

"Luke Skywalker," you said with accusation in your voice as he finally entered the throne room, following behind your guard. "I am not taking care of this child for you if that's what you're expecting. And I want my necklace back."

Skywalker smiled as he entered and kneeled to address you. It wasn't necessary to bow before you, but the Jedi had always been a bit of a stickler for tradition. You took it as a sign of friendship.

"Don't worry Your Majesty, Grogu and I will be on our way shortly. He just needs a... special diet that I cannot provide for him."

"Grogu?" The little child looked up at you when you said his name. His mouth was wrapped around the metal ball that had hung from your neck moments before. It had been a gift from your mother, a symbol of the planet you ruled over, to be passed on if you had a child of your own. Now it was covered in baby slobber. And yet, your heart softened at the sight of the green child. Relenting to his pleading eyes, you reached down and picked Grogu up, holding him at arm's length as he played with the metal ball.

"Where did you find him?" you asked Skywalker as you led him from the throne room toward the banquet hall, your advisor trailing behind you, just as curious about the creature as you.

"I did not find him," Skywalker replied. "A Mandalorian did."

A Mandalorian? Your heart rate picked up, curiosity piqued at the thought. You had only heard stories about their kind since their fall from the Council of Neutral Systems. And of course what your grandmother had told you of them. They were a conflicted group but you knew one thing for sure, they were not friends of the Jedi.

"I presume you are to train him now."

"To the best of my ability. He is the same species as my master, surprisingly strong despite his size."

In the banquet hall, you sent for a meal, setting Grogu down on the table and sitting before him. He was fascinating, despite his babyish mannerisms and the ball covered in his spit. But what you really wanted to know more about was this Mandalorian. The rumors had not escaped you, spreading swiftly through the trade routes, reports of the Darksaber's resurfacing, of those who tried to claim it. The planet Mandalore itself was relatively uninhabited, having been ravaged by years of war and conflict. Your trade routes were one of the only ones that extended that far to the outer rim as most didn't find it worth the trouble.

But if the Darksaber was truly back, and someone had claimed it, the Mand'alor may make a recovery. That could mean many things for your people, possibly a surge in trade or a new rival that was willing and able to fight for space. Mandalorians were known to be the greatest killers in the galaxy, after all. But you were getting ahead of yourself.

"The one who found Grogu, are they the one who claimed the saber?"

Concern flickered across Skywalker's face. "Yes, I believe his name is Din Djarin."

The baby's ears perked up at the name, glancing back and forth between the two of you. His giant eyes blinked slowly as he eyed your face.

"Is the Mandolorian worthy?" You were of course talking about the inheritance of the Mand'alor throne.

"He delivered the child. And refused the saber, at first. There is hope for those who are given the chance of ultimate power and deny it."

Refused it? So ruling a creed and a planet had not been his choice. Much like you. Perhaps there was a chance for the Mand'alor after all. You watched as Skywalker traded your necklace for an entire laas fish, which Grogu swallowed whole, fins and all. It was a disturbing sight.

---

Din Djarin could be a man of stealth when necessary. After saying goodbye to his son, he had accepted a ride through hyperspace from Boba Fett and Fennec Shand. But they had only been willing to go so far as Wobani, and he would have to make his way alone.

Though Bo-Katan had let Din leave with the Darksaber in tow, he could tell it had been with reluctance, and Din was sure this wasn't the last he'd see of her. Cara Dune had offered to follow him, but Din declined. This was a trip he had to make on his own.

Wobani was not the most welcoming of planets. The abandoned labor camps that had once been full during the reign of the Empire stood crumbling to dust. Some people had taken root here, making do with what was available.

But this was not where he needed to be. Din needed to keep moving, keep his eyes on the future, keep his mind off of the sad look on the little one's face as he'd been whisked away by a Jedi. Din felt empty without Grogu on his hip, hidden in his satchel or tucked away in his crib. Sure, Din missed having his ship, but he missed the child so much more.

The metal ball at his belt weighed heavy. He should have let him keep it.

But there was no turning back now. Din would allow himself one night of rest before moving on. There were no boarding houses on Wobani, though he'd asked around. And it wasn't like anyone wanted to house a Mandalorian. So Din settled for an empty, abandoned building, one that likely had held prisoners at one time or another. Now, there was nothing but a dirt floor and a wall to lean against. But it was better than nothing.

As the sun set, Din shut his eyes, ready for the next day to begin.

He was awoken not by the sun, but a grunting noise to his left. Din opened his eyes and adjusted his helmet to night vision, locating a massive heat signature through his visor. A large animal, crawling on all fours, appeared across the room. It hadn't yet noticed Din, more preoccupied with sniffing the ground with a large, whiskered nose. But even from this vantage point, Din could tell the creature had many giant sharp teeth, perfect for tearing at his flesh.

Maybe if he stayed absolutely still... Nope. That large nose turned in his direction and had him spotted in an instant. The options lay before him, run or fight, and neither seemed good. Shooting a blaster in this confined space was almost guaranteed to cause a ricochet and at the moment, the beast was blocking the exit.

But not the only exit. The beast began to approach, its long slithering tail making disgusting sounds as it dragged across the floor, sinewy muscles rippling beneath hairless skin. It moved slowly, but that didn't mean much. It probably thought it had found its next meal, a man in a suit of beskar. Din stood slowly, trying not to urge the beast to move any faster.

Last night, when choosing a spot to sleep, Din had noticed the small window above him. When you were constantly on the hunt or being hunted, having multiple escape routes was a necessity. And the window had seemed like a good enough option. Now Din hoped his judgment had been right. The beast was getting closer, giving him only moments to make a decision.

To reach the window, Din would have to turn his back on the beast, which he didn't particularly want to do. He would need a distraction.

The beast paused in its approach and then lunged, as Din aimed his vambrace, spraying it with fire. It reeled back, howling in pain, and he knew that was his chance. He jumped, fingers catching on the ledge and hauling himself through the narrow space. Din barely fit, especially with all his bulking armor and the few possessions he managed to carry. The beast he'd left behind was enraged, clawing angrily at the walls and snapping at his heels.

At last, he was able to swing himself from the window to the roof of the building, finding refuge up high. He laid back with exhaustion, listening to the sounds of the beast as it finally gave up on its query and left. Din wanted nothing more than to sleep, to forget the pain in his heart and calm his rapid breathing. Not much scared the serious Mandalorian, and despite the danger he had just narrowly escaped, his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Above him, the stars shone dimly through the dusty clouds of Wobani's atmosphere. Somewhere out there was the kid. Din hoped he was happy.

---

Luke Skywalker and the child did not stay long. You were surprised to find that you actually missed the little bugger as you watched them fly away, a large supply of laas fish in tow. Though you were sure you'd see them again; Grogu's appetite was insatiable.

But there were more pressing matters at hand. If the Mand'alor were to resurface and become strong again, you had to be prepared. You wanted to have the upper hand and hoped that the trade relations that were already established with the desolate Mandalore planet would help in gaining their trust.

Though your advisors had recommended you give up on the planet, even demanded it, you had been unwilling to do so. The few who did live there desperately needed Nhora's help and supplies. They had little to offer in return and tended to be more of a burden than an equal partner, but it felt wrong to abandon that outpost. Now you were glad that you'd stuck to your convictions.

It was time to call a meeting of council members. Little was left of the Council of Neutral Systems since the fall of the Empire, but those who remained were essential to the maintenance of free trade. And if the Mand'lor were to return, the council needed to be prepared.

"We don't even know if this Mandalorian wants his planet back," General Tarrow was saying, his hologram flickering slightly across the table from you.

"It's better to be prepared," your advisor, Zena, replied. "Her Majesty has maintained trade relations with the planet despite their small numbers. We can use this to our advantage and get ahead of any potential military action they are willing to take."

"The fact that they could take military action is exactly why we shouldn't pursue relations with the Mand'alor," Tarrow countered.

Zena sighed, exasperated by the back and forth conversation that had been going on for the last twenty minutes. You could tell she was getting frustrated. "They deserve our respect, don't they? Innocent before proven guilty?"

"They've already proven themselves guilty, or didn't you study Nhora's history?"

The General made a good point, but it was always better to approach with peace than antagonism, you had learned. "I have reason to believe the one who claimed the Darksaber is of a different disposition, worthy, even," you said in Zena's defense.

"From who?" asked another council member.

"Luke Skywalker."

"The Jedi? I don't trust him."

"Well I do," you said, putting your foot down. "There's not much to be done at this time anyway. The reports are only rumors, after all. But we need to be open and prepared for the Mand'alor to return."

The meeting adjourned. Though no conclusions had been reached, you felt a shift coming.

---

When Din awoke next, it was the sun was up. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep again. Move. That was all there was to do.

Scrambling down from the roof that had become his bed, Din headed back toward the port he had come in from, hoping to find someone stupid enough who would accept a ridiculously small amount of credits in exchange for passage to the nearby planet Mandalore. He knew the task was impossible before he even asked the first merchant he found.

Time to change tactics.

Across the shipyard was a small transport ship. Din watched from behind some crates as a couple of droids loaded and unloaded cargo. It appeared the ship was manned entirely by droids and was getting ready to take off again soon. It would be a risk, boarding the ship and hijacking it. But smaller craft like this tended not to be very equipped for battle, and Din hoped he could use that to his advantage.

Keeping low to the ground, Din moved swiftly toward the transporter, staying out of sight of the droids. He hid next to the loading ramp, quickly climbing inside as it began to rise, signaling its imminent departure.

The cargo hold was tiny. The hulking Mandalorian couldn't stand up straight without hitting his head on the ceiling. Tight spaces didn't bother him, but he hoped that the rest of the transporter wasn't this small. Otherwise, this was going to be a long trip.

With the hum of the thrusters, the transporter lifted into the air, leaving the airspace of Wobani's shipyard. Din would wait until just before the ship entered hyperdrive to make his move.

The angle of ascent leveled and the flight smoothed, indicating they had made it out of the atmosphere and were heading swiftly toward their destination. The door leading to the cockpit from the cargo hold was thankfully not locked. With a shove, Din had the door open and the first droid in a headlock before it knew what was happening. One blaster shot to the central processing unit and the droid dropped, though not before making enough noise to signal to its copilot of Din's intrusion. And of course, it had a blaster.

The shot rang out, ricocheting around the tiny space, pinging off the walls and Din's beskar armor. Silently he thanked his laser-proofness, even as the shot knocked him off his feet and hurled him against the door of the cargo hold. His head slammed into the metal wall, blurring his vision. He would definitely have a headache after that one.

Stupid droids.

With a groan, Din heaved himself to his feet. Realizing that a blaster wasn't going to work, the droid stood, preparing itself for hand-to-hand combat. If Din hadn't been fighting for his life he may have found the situation funny, fighting in such cramped quarters. But the clouds hadn't quite cleared from his head and he barely noticed the tell-tale sign of the droid winding up for a punch. The droid swung out and struck Din squarely in the temple, sending reverbs through the beskar.

Dank farrik. This was ridiculous. He needed to focus, not be so distracted, but by what exactly? Din steadied himself and aimed his vambrace, blasting the droid with a shot that vaporized its CPU instantly.

Silence.

Shoving the now unmoving droids as best he could into the cargo hold, Din took control of the ship, rerouting the navigation system. Punching in the coordinates of the planet Mandalore, he shifted quickly into hyperdrive. The trip would take less than a day. But it was several hours of peace and for that Din was thankful, even if it meant no distractions from the big brown eyes that blinked at him every time he closed his own. They were so sad and--

Stop. Sleep. Move on. But they called out, even in his dreams.

Mandalore was even more deserted than Wobani. As the transporter eased out of hyperdrive, Din spotted several round constructions, which turned out to be domes as he got closer. Where was he going to land? There didn't appear to be a shipyard or trading post to accept incoming starships. No one connected to the commlink, requesting his flight information.

The planet was silent and gray.

Of course, it couldn't be that easy. As he prepared for descent, the rear detectors picked up on an approaching x-wing. Damn. Apparently taking out a pair of drones and hijacking their ship wasn't a free pass. Someone wanted their cargo back. And this ship was not equipped for that fight.

All Din could do was dodge as the x-wing rained fire. So much for a smooth landing. With a lurch, the left thruster was rendered useless and the transporter began to fall, rather than sail, toward the gray planet. Hopefully, Din could guide the transporter into a graceful crash and not kill himself on the way down. Seemingly recognizing that the ship was a lost cause and on its way to a crash landing, the x-wing swooped away, at least giving Din one less thing to worry about.

The ship lurched through the atmosphere, speeding too fast toward the ground and threatening to burn up as it went. The temperature inside the cockpit began to rise and Din felt lightheaded, likely due to the sudden force of gravity. He jerked up on the joystick, praying for a miracle.

With a defining blast, the transporter made contact with the ground. Din managed to remain conscious as the ship hit the sand, but only long enough to bring it to a slamming and skidding stop. And then everything went black.

It was hot. Too hot. And his mouth was impossibly dry. Din was barely aware of a pair of arms hooked under his armpits, dragging him away from the wreckage of the transporter, saving his life.

---

A year passed. Grogu and Skywalker visited again several times, though shorter than before. Little changed in the child's size, but he was stronger than before. You didn't even wait for him to steal your necklace, just handed him the small metal ball like a pushover as Skywalker restocked his ship.

And though you asked, pushed even, for details on the Mandalorian, Skywalker had little to say. The warrior seemed to have disappeared into hyperspace.

This lack of news was the exact reason why you were so shocked to find, not many days later, a suit of beskar armor standing in your throne room.

Zena had been explaining the benefits and disadvantages of increasing farming output as you walked to the throne room, but the pair of you stopped short at the door. A tall, gleaming figure stood in the hall, looking out a window, seemingly unaware of your presence. At the sight of him, the guards who had been flanking you drew their weapons, training their blasters to his back and stepping in front of you. It took you a moment to recognize the distinct shape of the helmet and the signet on his shoulder plate but this was unmistakably a Mandalorian, the Mandalorian, who had unwittingly laid claim to the Mand'alor throne. You held up your hand, willing your guards to stand down and let you pass.

"I'll admit, I am surprised to be in your presence, Mandalorian," you said. "Though not surprised that you made it in unseen. You'll have to teach me that one."

The man, Din Djarin you remembered his name to be, turned to face you, his helmet disguising whatever thoughts may have been written on his face. Of course, Din had known you were there, knew when you would arrive, knew exactly how many blasters were trained on him. But when he turned, the serious, threatening woman he expected to find was not there.

When Din had landed on Mandalore, it had been only your ships that he'd seen come and go. There was no official port or trading post, the locals explained, but Nhora's supplies came anyway, finding a way in the inhospitable desert environment that the remaining Mandalorians called home.

Reports of Nhora were mixed. Some were grateful for its help. Other's looked upon it with disdain, taking any acceptance of assistance as a sign of weakness. And rumors about the Nhora queen varied widely. Some claimed she didn't exist, was only a fabricated figurehead to maintain peace. Others described her as fierce and domineering, ruling with an iron fist and cultivating the illusion of order through force.

At first glance, Din knew you were none of these things. You were regal, of course, very obviously the one in charge. But your stance was warm and inviting, the soft features of your face drawn up into a smile. If anything, you felt more like an equal, rather than a royal who demanded authoritative respect. It was difficult for Din to smile, especially since the loss of everything he'd called family. But your smile was contagious. If not for his helmet, Din might have given his whole intimidating facade away. He was drawn to you, to your lack of fear, but he wouldn't let it show.

Djarin, though beneath the helmet he smiled against his will, appeared as the complete opposite to you. His demeanor was quiet and daunting, but he stood stiffly before you, as if unsure how you would receive him. He didn't bow or kneel or even address you by your title. And yet, though he could probably kill you and all the guards that surrounded you in the time it took to say his name, you felt no concern in his presence.

The memory of your grandmother's stories lurched into the forefront of your brain, dashing warriors, powerful and dangerous, yet righteous and honorable at heart. It made your heart beat faster. He made your heart beat faster.

"I heard you were looking for me," was all he said, modulated voice surprisingly calm despite the rush of emotions that flooded him. A man of few words, he got straight to the point. But inside he was wondering why you eyed him like that, with curiosity and diffidence, not afraid of him at all.

You nodded silently and took your place on your throne, unsure of what you would say next. How that news had reached him escaped you, as you hadn't been actively searching him out. Yes, you'd been wondering what had happened to him, what he planned to do. But you hadn't expected to meet him, not so soon. "Din Djarin, rightful heir to the Mand'alor throne. I wasn't anticipating this meeting for quite some time."

Though you couldn't see his eyes, the Mandalorian seemed to squint at you suspiciously through his visor. The sound of his name rolled easily from your tongue as if practiced over and over. "How do you know my name?"

"I know of the child you rescued. The one with the force." The Mandolorian took a step forward as if wanting to hear more. You leaned your elbow on the arm of your throne, one finger twisting nervously at the scarf of your headdress, anticipating his response.

"You've seen him?"

"Yes, a few times now. Skywalker prefers Nhora for restocking supplies. And Grogu is particularly fond of stealing things with his mind and swallowing his meals whole." The comment was meant to be a joke. Djarin did not laugh. He was watching your delicate fingers instead. "He is strong. Capable. A Jedi in the making. And you seem very attached. If I didn't know better I would think you were here for news of the little one."

"I didn't come searching for Grogu."

"I know. The Mandolorian don't simply come when called. They come when they need something. I heard what you did to Moff Gideon. How you refused the saber. I would be very surprised if there weren't some dangerous people after you right now."

Din sighed, knowing you had deciphered his intent without needing it explained to you. You were kind, but you were also sharp and perceptive, not wanting to waste time with small talk. Din liked that.

"I've seen your ships land on Mandalore. Nhora is the only one who still trades with the people there. I figured--" You realized he was asking for help but didn't know how to. Zena shot you a knowing look, recognizing that you had been right when you'd called that council meeting over a year ago. "I figured you could be an ally."

An ally. Perfect. This was exactly what you predicted. You wanted to rub your success in those snobby Neutral System faces, but you held your composure. This was your chance to make a connection, establish a rapport that would benefit you both, and protect your planet at the same time. If he needed an ally, you would offer it.

"Tell me what you need."

Djarin stood momentarily in silence, contemplating the consequences of what he was about to ask for. Was it this easy? Were you this willing to help every poor soul that came along? "I need-- I need a ship. And supplies."

"That's it?" It was suspiciously little if you had any inkling of the position Djarin was in. If he had seemingly disappeared for the past year, what struggles had he endured to make it here, to your planet?

"That's all I can afford. I don't have many credits left."

You laughed. You couldn't help it. "Credits? That's what you're worried about? I don't want your credits, Djarin."

Didn't want your credits? No one of sound mind gave anything away for free. You may have been generous, but there was no way you were that stupid. There had to be something else, he knew. "What's the catch?"

"The catch is that you rebuild a creed that was once my people's allies. And you defend us, the way you used to, from the inevitable. The Empire is still out there. It's naive to think they won't set their sights on us. But you-- you can stop them. So tell me what you need, everything you need, and I will help you. Do we have a deal?"

Zena, who had remained silent during the interaction, now leaned down and spoke into your ear. "Are you sure this is smart, Your Majesty? If the Council hears of your actions, they may not be very pleased."

"Zena, the Council has no control over what I do with my personal resources. So, deal or no deal?"

Djarin stepped forward, approaching you where you sat on your throne. Though you were seated above him, Djarin was tall enough to still stand at your eye level. He reached out a gloved hand, asking for yours to shake, you thought. His beskar glittered in the setting sun filtering in through the windows and sent you spiraling into thoughts of what he looked like beneath it all. But instead of shaking your hand, he simply held it and sunk on one knee before you, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles and bowing his head. Had Djarin not been wearing a helmet, you were sure he would have kissed them. "Thank you, Your Majesty," he said softly.

The act was ridiculous. Din knew that. You knew that. But it made your heart flutter even more than before.

"Oh for Maker's sake, this is absurd. Stand up, Djarin," you said, suddenly embarrassed, though you had to admit the sight of a Mandalorian kneeling before you would have made your ancestor's faint on the spot. "Let's find you a ship."

---

You weren't exactly sure what Djarin's rule about his helmet was. Would he take it off? Leave it on? But he needed to eat, so you led him to a private room for dinner, in case that's what he wanted. It would be naive to admit you didn't like the thought of being alone with him. You wanted to know how true your grandmother's stories were.

"I hope it's enough," you said, gesturing at the spread of food before him. "Please let me know if you need anything."

Djarin stood silently for a moment before sitting down heavily into his chair. He seemed exhausted, and though you couldn't tell with all that armor, it wouldn't have surprised you if he was injured somewhere under there.

"Thank you. Your kindness is much appreciated."

"It is per our custom. I'll leave you to eat." You turned to go and leave him in peace, but he stopped you with a gloved hand on your wrist. Though a layer of leather separated your skin from his, Djarin's grip sent a jolt up your arm.

"Why are you being so kind?" It was a genuine question, one you didn't know how to respond to. Tell him the truth? Make something up? But the man before you seemed so earnest that it appeared best to be honest. So you sat, directly across from him, and began your story.

"My grandmother was a fair and just queen," you began, folding your hands in your lap. "Sometimes to a fault. She ruled on her convictions and morals, not tradition or law. In those days, the Mand'alor still controlled much of the outer rim and fought endlessly with the Jedi. Nhora remained neutral, accepting any and all who needed assistance, regardless of creed. A young Jedi took refuge on Nhora, and according to custom, was given full protection. This was something my grandmother believed to her core. Something we still practice today."

"So you're nice because your grandma said you should be?" It wasn't meant as a jab, but suspicion laced Djarin's voice.

You sighed and continued the story. "The young Jedi did not arrive alone. He was followed by a Mandalorian, out for vengeance and retribution. He stormed the palace, the first time in history that our defenses were breached. Fortunately, the Jedi was able to aid our guards in the Mandalorian's detainment. But not before my grandmother fell deeply and madly in love with him."

"In love? With a Mandalorian?" It was hard to tell through the modulation of his voice, but Djarin sounded shocked and more than a little suspicious.

"Perhaps it was all the beskar," you said, trying to make another joke. Djarin still did not laugh though he cracked an invisible smile beneath his helmet. "But yes. Of course, it's only a story, but my grandfather was of Mand'alor, so there must be some truth in it."

"You are a descendant?"

You nodded. You'd never met your grandfather, as fathers didn't matter much to the matriarchal line of rule, but now, here you were, sitting before another Mandalorian, and the cycle continued.

What Djarin did next gave you a shock for the second time that day. With a click and then the hiss of hydraulics, he lifted his helmet from his shoulders, placed it on the table, and began to eat. You barely reined in the expression on your face, narrowly avoiding blanching at the revelation of his face.

Suddenly, it didn't seem so strange that your grandmother had fallen instantly head over heels for your grandfather after all, considering the man you found beneath the helmet.

The Mandalorian that sat before you didn't have the mean, hardened look you expected. His expression was soft, lips smooth and slightly downturned into a natural frown beneath the curve of a prominent nose. He hardly seemed to notice your stares as he dug into his food, his dark eyes staying fixed on his plate.

Djarin's dark hair was tousled and in disarray, likely from being plastered under a helmet for so long. He had a disheveled beard, graying in some places, that made you realize he had probably been traveling for some time without a true place to stay or a real bed to sleep in. It was only then that you noticed the cut on his lip, the gash across his cheek, and the bruise under his eye. What had happened to him? What had he endured to reach Nhora?

Din still wasn't sure what was considered an appropriate or inappropriate time to remove his helmet. But he reasoned that if you were a descendant of Mand'alor, then this was appropriate. And despite his better judgment, he trusted you. Your story had made him think that perhaps your coyness earlier was not a result of his sudden appearance but a mutual attraction the pair of you shared. You were a complete stranger, a queen even, and yet he felt he had known you all along, as if gravity had pulled him toward you. You radiated warmth and acceptance, something he rarely received as a Mandalorian.

Din pretended not to notice your stare, but then you stood abruptly, and he looked up.

"Most people don't recognize me when I take off this whole thing," you said, gesturing to the clothes you wore. Din could tell you were trying to make a comparison to his helmet, all a disguise to maintain a physical and emotional distance from those around you.

You began to pull off your robes, layer after layer of the royal get up you disliked more than you let on. You unwound the intricate scarf from your hair, aware that Djarin was watching the whole time as your hair fell unbound around your shoulders.

It was all ceremonial, he knew, but Din had noticed when he first met you that you didn't seem particularly comfortable in your position. Now you stood in your loose underclothes, arms and shoulders bare, headdress and scarves discarded on the floor, and you relaxed. Your efforts were a mirror to his, showing your vulnerability and gaining his trust. And you did look different, not quite unrecognizable but somehow even smaller and less imposing than before.

You suddenly felt nervous beneath Djarin's gaze and felt it best to keep your hands busy.

Turning toward a cabinet on the wall, you began rummaging through it, looking for the antiseptic. You could feel Djarin's eyes now trained on your back, watching your every move. "I don't have any bacta spray in here, but we should at least clean up that cut."

You pulled your chair closer to his. The proximity was delicious.

"This may sting a bit," you said as you applied a swab to the gash in his cheek, fingers holding his face in place. Din didn't pull away but he did hiss lightly. Your body was so close to his own he could smell the scent of you, light and flowery like your planet.

"So, what else does the Mandalorian need from me?" you asked, trying to distract him from the pain.

Din grunted, though not in discomfort but to regain his focus. "The people-- I'm not sure what they need. I'm a warrior, not a ruler. I didn't ask for this. Mandalore is essentially deserted, those who remain have nothing and I don't know where to begin. The creed is fractured, scattered throughout the galaxy. I don't even think most of them want to be found. Especially not by me."

You placed a gentle hand on his chin to tilt his head closer to yours, giving you access to the cut on this lip. Thin lines creased Djarin's eyes and forehead, marring his golden skin with worry and tension. His eyebrows knitted in constant concern. You wanted to smooth that look from his face but it was more than you thought he'd allow. Instead, you focused on his mouth, not that that helped your erratic pulse and quickening breath either.

The tenderness of the act caught Din off guard. A royal, stooping to his level, rolling up her sleeves to do the dirty work, was surprising. He got the impression that you were a reluctant ruler, though he couldn't tell why. Nhora was obviously a prosperous planet, covered in glittering cities and sprawling trade ports. What he'd seen of the people they seemed happy and healthy. How could you be so successful and yet so averse to the job you performed so well?

"You're a good man, Djarin. I understand your reluctance. I was not meant to be queen either. I didn't want to be queen, and yet the responsibility was thrust upon me. But you are a good father as well, and I've known the best fathers to make the best leaders."

"I'm not a father. Not anymore." The words were spoken with a deep sadness.

"I think the Child would beg to differ. He lights up like a glow frog when he hears your name."

"A glow frog?"

"Native to Nhora. The resemblance is uncanny."

Din chuckled at the image, knowing the kid could probably just swallow one whole. "Has he grown?"

"Perhaps a little, though it's hard to tell." You finished your first aid and leaned away. Djarin's questions made apparent his love for and connection to Grogu. How he'd managed to let him go in the first place was beyond you. You didn't have children and weren't sure if you ever would, yet their bond was enviable. "Somehow I don't think it's a coincidence that we crossed paths, Djarin. You and I and the kid."

Din wasn't sure what that meant. He didn't particularly believe in destiny, nor did he know how to respond, so he turned back to his food. Decades beneath the helmet had given him the luxury of hidden expressions and wordlessness. He didn't know how to act without its protection.

But something else was also forcing his speechlessness. Though your touch had left his skin, the ghost of your fingers remained, leaving him in silence. He was ashamed something so simple could affect him so intensely, and yet he was melting like ice beneath a warm sun.

And while you continued to speak of Grogu, of his obsession with metal balls and being held in the crook of your arm, Din's thoughts swirled not around the child but the soft touch of your fingers on his face. He realized had never been touched like that before, not that gently. And your hands were so smooth, unmarred and flawless from never having worked manual labor or been in a fight. They twisted in your lap, unable to stop moving despite the idle chatter you had fallen into.

You weren't sure why you couldn't stop moving. Was it Djarin's stare, the way he appeared to be listening to you intently though he never responded, or his large presence that filled the room, or just the excitement of meeting the man you had been thinking about for the better part of a year? You realized that you were rambling, filling the silence with your words, your hands wringing in your lap.

All of a sudden, a big hand reached out and covered yours. You silenced instantly. "You're going to twist your fingers off if you keep that up, Your Majesty."

A thrill jolted through your body. Most people addressed you by your title, out of respect. But the way it came from his mouth, in that lilting baritone, sent the world spinning.

"I should leave you, let you sleep," you said finally, needing to get away before your voice betrayed your heart's emotions. "I know you've had a long day. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need."

Maker, how you hoped he would stay. But Din Djarin would be gone in the morning.

---

The starship you had provided was more than Din could have asked for, large enough to accommodate his size and cargo, small and swift enough to fly fast and steady in whatever direction he required. Inside, his blaster, spear, and a new rifle found their place on the wall. Climbing into the cockpit, Din surveyed the array of buttons and flashing lights.

To the right, the joystick gleamed in the dim light of the shipyard hanger. It was topped with a square knob. A memory floated through Din's mind, the tiny claws of a green hand reaching out to grasp at the knob, the big ears and wide eyes and--

Pulling the metal ball from his pocket, Din unscrewed the square knob and tossed it aside. Miraculously the Razor Crest's hardware fixtures must have been similar enough to this ship's, and the metal ball screwed perfectly into place. He grasped it gently once more, before flicking a few switches and starting up the engine.

Keep moving. Always keep moving.

---

Djarin's touch lingered on your hands even as you fell asleep. You dreamed of him, of his face, tired but handsome, aged by worry and life, yet kind and full of that honor your grandmother claimed every Mandalorian of worth contained.

You dreamed that he stayed, protecting you and your people, the way your grandfather should have done. Perhaps your mother and sister would still be here if he had.

Those nightmares woke you, sweating and sitting straight up in bed in the near darkness. Soft light from Nhora's triplet moons glimmered through the window, bathing your room in a soft glow, easing the pain in your heart, and returning you to the present. You flopped back in bed, rolling onto your stomach to try to get comfortable.

"That kriffing Mandalorian," you sighed into the pillow. He occupied your thoughts as you drifted in and out of sleep, his eyes on yours, the softness of his face under your fingers, the way he'd let you take care of him, his hand steadying yours and bringing you back into your body. It tied a knot in your stomach and you cursed your grandmother for having given you such high expectations of the man. Yet they were expectations met.

And what if he stayed? Would you fall for him? Were you destined to do so, intertwined by some family history that fated you and him together? He must have felt the gravity too, the gravity that pulled you together and bound your lives.

You hadn't seen him without his beskar armor on, but you could only imagine what he might look like underneath it all, shoulders broad, skin smooth, back muscular and strong. Was he taught and wound, always ready for a fight, or soft and supple?

You'd been with men before. Plenty of them, in fact. They tended to fall at your feet, begging for the queen's attention and a chance to sleep in her bed. Nhoran queens never married, simply chose a man to be the one to continue on the line of queens that came before and the line that would come after. But none struck your fancy, none forced their way into your thoughts, none caused you to touch yourself with need when you were without their presence.

None like Djarin. It was a relief to orgasm beneath your hands, his face floating behind your eyelids. You came as the triplet moons set and the sun rose, as somewhere in the distance Djarin's ship was taking off, rumbling powerfully beneath his strong hands. The relief it brought you gave you several more hours of sleep, the best sleep of the past year.

You hadn't realized how starved you were for the Mandalorian until he was in your grasp.

---

The dense quiet of hyperspace allowed for sleep. Or too much thinking.

In this case, Din was doing the overthinking. In the holomessage he'd left you he'd tried to explain where he was going, what he was doing, that he'd be back. He didn't need to justify his actions to you. You'd given him permission to go about his business as he pleased, that you'd always be there for help if he needed it. But he felt he owed you some explanation.

There was so much to do, to plan, to look ahead to. And yet Din's thoughts surrounded only you and what he'd just left behind. Less than a day on Nhora and the planet called out to him, begging for his return. Or perhaps it was just you.

Din closed his eyes, willing sleep to find him, but only visions of you drifted through the darkness, your bare arms, your soft fingers, your face close to his, your scent. It was intoxicating. If he tried hard enough, he might be able to pick up that smell even now, lingering in the ship.

When he'd reached out to touch your hands, it had taken all his willpower to leave them there and not drag his fingers up your arm. It wasn't right, this sudden desire to touch you all over. You were just being kind. It was silly to think any further into it. And yet, the knot in his stomach and tightness in his pants said otherwise.

Din's eyes flew open, trying to rid you from his thoughts. Think about anything else, Maker be damned, anything but wanting to hold you, kiss you, drink in that scent forever and ever.

With a frustrated grunt, he stood and moved to the fresher, splashing cold water onto his face to relieve the tension in his chest. It didn't work.

"I don't even know your name," Din groaned into the silence of the ship, hands balled into fists and rubbing his eyes. It was useless. There was only one thing to do. With fumbling fingers, he undid his belt, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his pants. What would you think if you knew he was touching himself like this? But that only turned him on more, urging him forward to grasp his length with a rough hand. It only took a few pumps to finish, the fingers of his other hand gripping the edge of the sink as he grunted into the echoing silence of the fresher, amplifying the needy sounds.

He'd never let a woman drive him crazy. And yet you were going to do just that, already lightyears away.

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thebountyfucker · 3 years

Text

The Royal Affair - Embo

Don't read this without reading the first part!

Part 1

18+ ONLY - NSFW

Embo x AFAB!Reader (reader is gender-neutral but they do wear a skirt)

Tags/CW: power imbalance, public blowjob/indecency, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation, long alien tongue, risky practices, big cock

Here's a link to my masterpost!

Want to be tagged in upcoming fics like this? Here's the application for my taglist!

It wasn’t hard to find the Prince in the crowd of people. All you had to do was look for Queen Esmera’s crown, and he was close by. It was getting to him without his father noticing that was the problem. You watched him, waiting for him to break away from the table so you could more safely approach him.

The break came a few hours after he broke away from the rest of his family. He stood, straightening his suit jacket, and started toward the hallway to the left of the backrooms. He met Salicia on the way, and whispered something to her, which elicited a giggle in response. Your brows furrowed as you watched the way they interacted, trying to figure out what was going on. But your observations were cut short by the bartender.

“Can ya bring this to Lord Jango’s table?” He thrust something at you. It was a juice pouch, likely ordered for the Lord’s son who had been dozing for a while now. You sighed but didn’t argue, carefully making your way toward the Mandalorian regent. You passed Embo on the way, and he offered you a wink.

You bowed your head as you approached, offering Lord Jango the pouch since his son was asleep with his head on the table. Lord Jango raked a hand through Boba’s unruly curls, and spoke soft words in Mando’a to try to wake him. The kid roused, sleepily reaching for the juice pouch, and Jango dismissed you with a thanks.

You limped back toward the back room, stopping short of the door and turning to see if you could find Prince Embo anywhere. He had vanished in that short period of time, but judging by his trajectory, he either went outside or to the restroom… so maybe you could intercept him on the way back.

You started down the hall, passing the bathrooms. Though you intended to pass by the restrooms, a decidedly feminine giggle from the men’s room intrigued you. You drew closer, listening to the wet slurps sounding from within, and spikes of pleasure shot to your cunt.

You pressed your ear to the door; if anyone was to ask, you were merely curious… but a part of you found these obscene sounds arousing. You had to fight the urge to jam your hands between your legs and finger yourself. Deciding that this was too much of a temptation to you, you moved and turned away.

“I know you are out there. If there is something you need, you can come in.” You froze where you stood, embarrassed. You could recognize the voice as that of Prince Embo, so this would be the time to let him know of your decision. At the same time, though, you wanted to run and escape this predicament.

Deciding against running, you poked your head in, and a small squeak left your lips before you could stop it. Prince Embo was leaning against the wall while Salicia was sucking him off! You met her gaze and she froze, mortified.

“What is it that you want?” He inquired, quirking a browridge. He seemed rather nonchalant about this situation, despite the reactions of both you and his pleaser.

“I… uh… thought about your offer.” You answered, stumbling over your words. You did your best to avert your gaze, but it was easier said than done.

“And?”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Brilliant. Give me… ten minutes, and I will come to collect you.” He ran a hand over the base of Salicia’s lekku.

“Okay.” You stiffly left the bathroom and found a bench outside to sit on; your eyes were wide, and your hands were clasped on your lap patiently. Whenever someone approached the restroom, you waved them away; apparently, the haunted look on your face was enough to deter them from pushing forward.

Like a man of his word, the Prince was out in ten minutes, acting as though nothing had happened at all. Salicia wouldn’t meet your gaze as she scurried past you, and the Prince didn’t regard her at all. He eased onto the bench beside you, and cast you a glance.

“You look as though you have seen a ghost.”

“I saw your cock.” You replied, glancing over at him. A part of you was embarrassed for interrupting them… but a dark part of you wanted nothing more than to see it again… to be the one with your lips wrapped around it. Your pussy pulsed, and you bit your lip.

“And?”

“I wasn’t expecting it. I figured that… well… it’d be quite a while longer before I saw it.” You admitted, and he chuckled in response.

“I suppose my reputation precedes me.” He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “My parents intend to stay here for a few hours, but we may depart, if that is what you desire.”

“Yeah… I would really like a place to put my foot up.” You admitted, and he cast a glance to your wrapped ankle.

“That may be wise. I can carry you, if that would help.”

“I’m alright… thank you.” You got up and he did the same, towering over you. You couldn’t help but blush at this. He offered you his arm, and though you were unsure of his true intentions for you, you looped your arm around his. Resting some of your weight on him did help your ankle feel better as you walked toward the adjacent Azvergin Hotel.

The hotel, which catered exclusively to billionaires and royalty, was largely a mystery to you. You either had to be staff to said clientele, or a member of these groups in order to be let inside. Rumor had it that one could rent an entire floor, long term, for fifty million credits! You’d never see that kind of money in your life, but you knew this was spare change to the Kyuzan Royal Family. Queen Esmera’s crown collection was worth more than that, you were sure.

He led you through the vast security detail, and you noted that some of the guards rolled their eyes. You wondered just how many commoners he had brought through the doors. You wondered if Salicia had been one of them, or if the blowjob was a one-off thing. He led you toward the lift, and you climbed inside with him. He punched in the number ‘20’, and the lift slowly started ascending.

“How many… uh… people have you brought to your room?” You asked, though you weren’t sure if he would appreciate that. He shrugged at this.

“More than I can keep track of.” He admitted.

“And your parents are… okay with this?”

“They have no say in the matter.” He replied bluntly. “I am an adult. I do as I please.”

“I… well… can’t fight that logic.”

The doors to the lift slid open, and he gestured for you to exit. The halls were a warm tan wood dotted with sparkling gems. There were grand murals hanging from the walls, depicting the royal family in various activities. A portrait of the seven caught your eyes - they were all so graceful, so imposing. They looked as though they knew the power they held and delighted in it.

You heard a small laugh from a room nearby, and a door slid open; a young child darted out, being chased by another child of a similar age. The two darted between you and Embo, before disappearing into a different room. You glanced at the closing door, and then at Embo.

“They are not mine, if that is what you’re implying. They’re my father’s bastard children.” He growled, his browridges furrowed. You looked down at the wooden floors.

“Oh. I’m… sorry.”

“Do not apologize. It is not your dysfunction.” Was all he said in response. He brought you to a room far from the lift, and gestured to this. “This is my room. You will be safest there. I will fetch you a cot.”

“Are you sure that… you’re okay with me being here?”

“Of course. I would not have offered otherwise.” His guards opened the doors for you, and Embo gestured into it. “Go on. I will return shortly.”

You stepped into the room, hearing the door shut behind you; his room was much smaller than you were expecting, though perhaps that was by design. His bed was laid out on the floor, covered with sheets of gold thread-trimmed silk. He had an armor stand nearby, equipped with what you could only assume was traditional armor and a large, circular, metal hat.

Along the back wall was a large wardrobe, which was cracked open; from what you could see, he mostly had clothes stored in there, but there was something metal that glimmered in the light.

You sat down in one of the chairs in his room, and propped your leg up on the other chair. It felt nice to put your foot up after such a long night. A maid shuffled in to tidy his room, and she offered you a glance; you waved, but she didn’t return the wave. Instead, she muttered something about the Prince’s ‘insatiable appetite’, and went about making his bed and clearing out a space for your cot.

Embo returned not long after, carrying another mattress in his arms. He laid it down on the cleared space, and the maid rustled around in his wardrobe for extra sheets and pillows. Embo let her do her job, and instead sat on the arm of the chair your leg was resting on.

“That bandage was wrapped incorrectly. Would you like me to fix it?” He noted, and you nodded.

“If you would.”

You moved your leg and he sat on the chair, gesturing for you to rest your foot on his lap. He gingerly unwound the bandages, taking care not to jostle your ankle too much. He then went about rewrapping your injury, taking care that the bandages were tight enough to compress it without causing further injury. You watched his ministrations curiously.

“I was a part of my planet’s military. All must learn to care for minor injuries.” He explained, as if sensing your curiosity. He patted your foot and you lifted it off of his lap.

“You were allowed to serve as a Prince?”

“I was required to. I did not have much of a choice.” He crossed his legs and leaned back as the maid finished up and departed from his room. He glanced over at the bed beside his. “You must be tired. I can offer one of my shirts for sleep. Tomorrow, we will go fetch your things.”

“How long will I be here?” You asked, and he shrugged.

“I am sorry… I cannot stay. As long as you desire, I suppose.” He stood and rummaged through his wardrobe for an old shirt. He tossed it to you. “My restroom is to the right. Feel free to use it as you need.”

You gathered the shirt up in your hand and limped into the bathroom; it was just as large as his room, with a large tub and a shower off to the side. You quickly undressed from your uniform and slipped on the large shirt. It was soft and smelled woodsy, just like him; you eased out of the bathroom, trying your best not to disturb his own undressing.

You slipped into your bed, and though you did your best to ignore him, you couldn’t help but turn to watch him. His body was lean and muscular, etched with little scars you figured were from his days in the military. You averted your gaze as he rucked off his pants, worried that he might not be happy with you trying to catch a glimpse of his cock.

He eased into his bed and the lights went dark. There was no propositioning, no forceful entreats for sex… just… quiet. It was not what you expected from such a playboy. You stayed awake for a while, waiting for something to happen - but nothing did. A part of you was… disappointed, you supposed, though you couldn’t pinpoint why.

Your sleep came soon after, but you were restless. You didn’t like sleeping with strangers, even if he had shown no interest in being with you. You were vulnerable… and you didn’t like being vulnerable.

You awoke when he slipped out of bed; you peeked open an eye, watching to make sure he didn’t approach. Instead, he padded almost silently toward the restroom, and closed the door behind him. You waited a while for him to return, but he didn’t come - instead, he turned on the shower. Seemed like an odd time to take a shower, but he was a Prince; you figured that he did what he wanted, when he wanted.

You laid awake, listening to the shower for what felt like an hour. He hadn’t made a sound, and a part of you was worried that he had died in there. It sounded absurd, but the more time passed, the more worried you became. Slowly, you got up and trekked toward the bathroom. You didn’t bother knocking, and instead slipped inside.

Your gaze found him in the shower, hurriedly stroking his long, hard cock; his eyes were squeezed shut, and he seemed close to orgasm. You covered your mouth to stifle your gasp, but it wasn’t enough; his eyes shot open and his gaze found yours. You blushed embarrassedly. His pace never faltered.

“You have a knack for -fuck- walking in at inopportune moments.” He said, bucking into his hand. You drew closer despite yourself, and he didn’t protest.

“I’m sorry… I thought you had died in here.” You admitted, and he managed a chuckle.

“No… I am not dead… just taking care of a problem.”

“I can see that. Did you want help?” You watched as his pace grew erratic, and he came in the shower; he just kept cumming and cumming, spilling more than a human ever could. When he was done, he leaned back against the shower wall, panting. “Nevermind.”

“You can still be of use to me.” He stood straight, and turned the shower off. He met your gaze, his eyes glowing bright with a feral lust. His cock, which had softened for a mere moment, went hard once more, and your eyes went wide. You have never seen that happen before. “Climb up onto my bed and get prepared for me.”

Your cunt throbbed at the deep, needy entreat, and you turned to vacate the bathroom. You eagerly climbed up onto Embo’s bed and your hand went to your clit. You gave it slow, even strokes, and wetness quickly started leaking from your cunt. Your other hand probed at your entrance, and a finger slipped in, testing how receptive you were to intrusions. You were still quite tight, but a quick massage of your g-spot helped fix that issue. You squirmed against your own hand as you slipped another finger into you.

“Fuck…” You whined, jacking your hips up against your hand. You heard the quiet whir of some machine, and the oxygen levels spiked. Your head started to spin, and you glanced up to see Embo discarding his mask on some end table nearby. “This doesn’t feel safe…”

“It will not be for long. You will be okay.” He promised as he approached, climbing up onto the bed and leaning over you. He drew closer to you, his hot breath dancing on your lips. “I want to taste you. Is that permitted?”

“Yes.” You managed, spreading your legs open even wider for him. He shifted downward, settling between your legs; he drew a finger up and down the slit of your cunt, acquainting himself with your clit and lips. Then, his tongue snaked out, sneaking between the lips to prod at your cunt; with little effort, his surprisingly long tongue slipped inside. You shot upright, your heart pounding as his tongue went deeper, further than any human could ever go; he hummed contentedly, the vibrations shaking you to the core. You gripped the sheets on his bed tightly, a strangled whine leaving your lips; he lapped at your cunt greedily, as if he loved the way you tasted.

“So delectable.” He pulled away, licking his lips with that wicked tongue. He slipped a finger inside, slowly and steadily thrusting it in and out of your cunt.

“I… I didn’t think a prince would stoop to this.” You admitted, desperately wanting his tongue again but you weren’t sure how to ask for it.

“And why not?” He inquired, his tongue slithering out to tease at your clit. You whimpered, and he responded by doubling down, dragging his tongue up and down your clit, before leaning close to take it into his mouth.

“Didn’t think… fuck!... Didn’t think you’d be interested in my pleasure.”

“What would be the fun in the alternative?” He inquired as he pulled away from your clit. He jacked his finger into you quicker, harder, watching the way you squirmed with a feral arousal. “In my youth, I was a greedy lover. I have long since found the good in pleasing my partners. Would you prefer that I just shove my cock in you?”

You glanced down at his cock, which was probably one of -if not the- largest cocks you had ever taken. You knew that going in without any foreplay would likely be quite painful, and potentially even damaging. You shook your head and he chuckled, lowering his mouth again.

“That is what I thought.” He retracted his finger from you, and his tongue slipped in you once more. The noises he drew from you were honestly a little embarrassing, but you hardly noticed them with the burning in your lungs and the spikes of pleasure shooting from your cunt. You pulled his head closer to you, riding his tongue as it lapped at your walls; the warmth, which welled in your stomach, was on the precipice of boiling over, and it seemed that he could tell. He pressed a thumb to your clit, and you exploded with a rush of fluids and cry of pure ecstasy.

When you came to, he was hovering over you, his mask on and the oxygen lowering to a more comfortable percentage. He waited for your gaze to meet his, before he leaned down, nearing your ear.

“May I take you?”

“Yes!” You cried, and he chuckled; before you could register what was happening, he rolled you onto your stomach and lifted your hips.

“Eager little thing.” He drew the head of his cock around your entrance, slicking it up, before pushing into your drooling cunt. You gasped, your hand flying to your mouth to prevent unholy sounds from leaving your lips; Embo just hummed and removed your hand. “I do wish to hear you.”

“I don’t want to be too loud…”

“There is no need to worry. My walls were made sound-proof.” He eased more of his length into you, earning him a high-pitched screech. He paused. “Is it hurting?”

“No! No….” You moaned, his sheets gripped tightly in your hand. He looked you over, making sure you were telling him the truth, before proceeding.

His pace was painstaking, as he was worried about hurting you. But you couldn’t take it much longer. You started pressing your hips toward his, impaling yourself on his cock… but goddess if it didn’t feel wonderful.

“Easy, easy.” He told you, but you didn’t listen. You needed his cock so desperately, and before you knew it, you had taken him to the hilt. Your stomach was distended from taking his entire length, and you pressed a hand to feel his cock poking through. You moaned as Embo’s hands found their way to your breasts. “Good… you are so good for taking my cock like this.”

You could hardly hold yourself up at this point, and he hadn’t even started thrusting; he rolled your nipples between his fingers, purring at the way your pussy clenched around him. He pulled you up flush against him, his hands moving from your breasts to your neck and clit. He squeezed lightly, and your head lolled back against his broad shoulder. A quick rub of your clit made your legs shake.

“You are so easy to please.” He purred in your ear, tightening his grip on your neck just a little bit. Your head swam and your eyes slid shut. “Would you like for me to go faster?”

“Yes, Prince, yes!” You cried out, and he released his hold on you. You slumped onto the bed and he grabbed your hips. His thrusts were slow and even at first, his cock hitting places you hadn’t known existed before this; every pull of his cock along your sensitive walls sent sparks of arousal to your cunt. Holding your orgasm back was easier said than done… you were so close...

He went faster, harder, gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. Your cunt tightened around him, and he slowed his pace.

“You are close?”

“Yes.” You moaned, and he reached down to pinch your clit between two of his fingers. You let out a scream as you orgasmed, soaking him with your fluids and going limp on his bed. Your cunt milked his cock for all it was worth, and he orgasmed soon after.

He pulled out, and you felt a gush of his seed leaving your cunt. You slowly caught your breath, and sat up.

“Wow…”

“Thank you for the help, my dear.” He reached out to stroke your cheek. “I foresee this being a… wonderful arrangement for the both of us.”

You couldn’t agree more.

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corvus--rex · 3 years

Text

Another one that's soundly asleep and not abandoned. Non-canon compliant, and all 7 of them are lgbt+ (I also may, possibly, be projecting onto Keith - just a little). And Lance is a they/them enby.

~*~*~*~

Liberating the planet Artrax was the easy part. Eliminating the Galra presence was simple. Voltron’s Paladins had done their job in securing the planet’s freedom. No different from any other occupied planet they’d been to. The Artraxians were holding a celebratory festival both in honor of the Paladins and in anticipation of joining the Voltron Coalition. Not complicated. It wasn’t something they hadn’t done many times before. And while every planet’s traditions and customs were different, they more or less knew what to expect. At least, they thought they knew what to expect. They were apparently wrong about that.

Allura dropped into her usual seat at the head of the dining table with a heavy sigh, the tablet in her hand clattering to the table’s surface. A lack of her usual composure was evident in the way her shoulders slumped, the annoyance and displeasure clear on her face. She sighed again before facing the Paladins.

“I’ve just spoken with Artrax’s leaders. They are going forward with the celebration in our honor and over joining the Coalition,” she said, heavy with exhaustion.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’,” Lance said cautiously.

“The Artraxians have a very rigid society when it comes to gender roles and sexuality. They are also insisting that, as distinguished guests, we are to dress according to their standards. At the very least I got them to agree to modify their fashions to our anatomy. But they will not back down from their views on gender. Not even for us. Alteans may not believe in those strict lines, but they do.”

“And combined with their enhanced sense of smell, especially when it comes to hormones and pheromones, there’s no way we can get around it,” Pidge noted disappointedly.

“Unfortunately. Please know that I would never ask any of you to do something that makes you uncomfortable in that way. But they would consider it a personal insult not to attend, or abide by their customs. And their trade routes are invaluable to the Coalition. I am so sorry.” Allura slumped back into her seat, gaze dropping to the table.

The room was silent for a long minute as they all considered their options and what the Artraxian societal standards meant for them. Three fifths of the Paladins didn’t identify with their assigned genders and none of them, Allura and Coran included, were straight. Hiding their sexual orientations was manageable, their gender identities far less so. Neither Lance nor Pidge in any way liked the idea of being forced into presenting as their assigned genders. After expanding their wardrobes beyond what they had worn into space, there was no telling what Lance would appear in on any given day, while Pidge’s remained as non-gendered as physically possible.

It had only been a few months since Pidge had come out to the team as agender, aromantic, and asexual. “Triple-A Queer” they had called it. They had known for some time before, but their disguise to get into the Galaxy Garrison was important to their self-imposed mission to find Sam and Matt, and so allowed everyone to believe that they were male. Lance, on the other hand, had never made their semi-fluid nonbinary identity a secret. Being bisexual and nonbinary at the Garrison had been an unpleasant experience at times, until the day when Tommy Bailey was harassing them for it again and Hunk simply appeared behind Lance without a sound, glaring. Tommy was too afraid of Hunk after that to try anything again.

While Lance and Pidge – as much as they hated it – could power through the discomfort of dressing to their physical sex, it was a little harder for Keith. He had kept it a secret at the Garrison, Griffin’s homophobia and “teasing” about Keith’s parents was bad enough. The only ones who had known were Shiro, Adam, and Garrison medical staff. He figured his life was hard enough being the gay, orphaned, golden boy without adding his trans status on top of it. His recovery time after top surgery was dismissed (by him) as having been sick, and hormone shots as being for specific, undisclosed allergies. (“Yeah, I’m allergic to being female,” he’d told Shiro with a laugh when they decided that was going to be the “official” story.)

He’d been off hormones since not long after leaving the Garrison, and told the team shortly after settling into the castle. He wanted to, but even if he hadn’t, it was going to show itself sooner or later. He’d rather they were prepared for bitchy, PMS-ing Keith, followed by angry, period Keith. It was not a side of himself he liked anyone seeing, but without access to his hormones, they were going to whether he liked it or not. He had the grace of the gods in that respect. Shiro handled it the same way he always had – from a distance and with care. Pidge was right there with him, commiserating over a bodily function neither of them wanted. Hunk had two moms and a younger sister, so he understood, even if it was from the outside. It was the same for Lance, with both of their sisters, one of whom was their twin, so they’d seen what she went through a little more closely than they’d wanted. Allura and Coran didn’t understand human reproductive cycles, but understood that it was an uncomfortable process, and did what they could.

But all that meant that he was going to be the one out of all of them in the most discomfort. It had been years since he’d had to pretend like he wasn’t in the wrong body, and now he was having to face that all over again. He knew that if they’d had any kind of leeway, Lance and Allura would be there to help him to be as comfortable as possible while stuck in a dress. But they didn’t. They were going to be in a modified version of the planet’s inhabitants’ traditional costume. None of the paladins knew what it looked like, but from how upset Allura was, it couldn’t be good.

Keith decided to rip off the band-aid. “So, what do these outfits look like?” he asked.

Allura played with the tablet she’d brought with her for a moment before turning it on. The images projected over the table were of the Artraxian people modeling their traditional clothing. Their race was in an eternal transitional period between reptilian and avian. Mostly scaled, and more closely resembling their reptile ancestors, they also had patches of brightly colored feathers and slightly wing-like arms with retractable membranes. The feathers that grew along their shoulders, forearms, and thighs were short, and nearly mistakeable for scales if it weren’t for their texture. They also had feathers that grew in a swath from forehead to neck, but these were longer, some trailing down their backs. Artraxian scale colors ranged from pale, leaf green to deep forest, those colors determined by regional origin. Unlike what the paladins would have expected of either reptiles or birds, Artraxians were a live-birth species, and so had some features more like Earth mammals, most notably two close-set rows of three breasts. Six-titted aliens was not what they were expecting. But combined with their long, thick, tapering tails and wing-arms, the paladins could see why their clothes would have to be adapted for human and Altean anatomy.

The clothing itself was as brightly colored as their feathers. It appeared light, soft, and silky, but was wrapped around their bodies like bandages, ultimately not leaving much to the imagination. Some of the wrappings were sheer, showing off the scales beneath. The females wore a two-paneled, A-line skirt over their leg wraps that ran to mid-calf, completely sheer and split at the sides to the waist. Males wore something similar, but slightly shorter and opaque. Both sexes went barefoot, no doubt a necessity due to their sharp claws. All five paladins looked over the projection with varying degrees of curiosity, anxiety, and fear.

“We’ll be providing the Artraxians with our physical measurements from here, and they will send us our…outfits,” Allura said, eyeing the female Artraxian with trepidation.

Keith was sorry he’d asked; he felt sick.

Lance was sitting directly across from him and was the first to notice it. Leaning over the table slightly, they nudged his foot. “You ok?” they asked quietly.

“No.” It was all he could get out before bolting from the room.

Shiro started to get up, but Lance stopped him. “I’ll go. No offense, but I don’t think a cis guy is what he needs right now.”

“Want me to come too?” Pidge asked.

“Maybe in a little bit. I think too many people will be too much for him.”

Pidge nodded at the same time Shiro spoke. “I’m not offended, Lance. You’re the best suited out of all of us to talk to him right now.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll call if I need anyone.”

Lance paused in the hallway, considering the possibilities of where Keith was most likely to be. Training deck? Always a possibility, but it didn’t seem as probable at that moment. He’d been genuinely upset, not just aggravated or frustrated. So not there. Holed up in his bedroom? Maybe, but it felt a little too obvious. The shock of seeing what he was expected to wear had made him bolt, and Lance knew he’d gone to ground. Ok, so not his bedroom either. The castle was not a small place, but there were only a handful of places Keith would go. If not the training deck or his bedroom, he had most probably run for his favorite of the observation decks, and that was where Lance set off for.

Walking the halls of the castle, Lance enjoyed the feeling of the soft fabric of their long skirt and fluffy cropped sweater. They liked the way the silky material flowed around their legs, and how their sweater floated and felt like it was made of clouds. It also made them think about their own coming out process. How their twin sister Rachel was the first person they’d told at age 12. Barely a month before their thirteenth birthday, Lance had taken Rachel on the short walk to the beach, to the spot away from where even the locals stayed. Their favorite place where they went swimming all summer long. Where their older siblings taught them to surf, and where their mother had shown them the constellations and sparked a love of space in Lance.

That’s where they’d gone with Rachel on a hot day in June. Lance remembered standing ankle-deep in the warm, clear water. They couldn’t look at her, too nervous about what she’d say. But looking out over the Atlantic, they’d found the courage they needed, and told Rachel everything. About how they’d been thinking about how they noticed they liked girls ok, but also boys and nonbinary people too, and considered themselves bi. It led them into talking about their own gender. That they didn’t feel much like a boy, but that they felt kinda like a boy sometimes, kinda like a girl sometimes, but mostly felt nonbinary. Lance told her that they felt like gender didn’t matter as much to them, and that while they didn’t feel the need to change their name, their preferred pronouns going forward were they and them.

Rachel had sat on the beach and listened. She thought it over while Lance was talking, and when they were done, she got up without a word, left her flip flops on the sand, and joined her sibling in the water. She crushed them in the tightest hug of their life and told Lance that they were her twin, nothing in the known universe could stop that, and that the absolute most important thing was that they were comfortable in their own skin. If there were a few tears before they left for home, no one needed to know. With Rachel firmly beside them, they told the rest of the immediate family that night, getting almost the same reaction from them as they had from their twin. Their father Diego was only a little more reserved, admitting that he didn’t understand the nonbinary part, but as long as Lance was safe and happy, that was all he cared about. By the time Lance had left Earth, Diego had come to understand what being nonbinary meant and that those five years of expressing themselves freely had been the happiest of Lance’s life.

The memory of that summer day made them smile to themselves as they walked, but also made them miss home and family all over again. With a sharp shake of their head, they remembered what they were coming up to the observation deck for. They knew Keith understood how important this party was, but being forced into that was more than enough to cause that kind of reaction. Ironically, Lance thought, the Artraxian male fashion sense was actually feminine-leaning, non-gendered by human standards and didn’t bother them as much as they thought it would, although it still did upset them. But that was them, not Keith. Especially with what Artraxian women wore, they knew how much it upset Keith. And that was why they were there. Not to try to convince him to wear it, but to be supportive. Let him know that both they and the team had his back with this. That Lance would be there for him however he needed.

Lance knocked on the door, walking in when they didn’t get an answer anyway. Keith was sitting on the floor with his arms wrapped around his knees as he watched the stars. Lance curled up beside him without looking over.

“Hey. It’ll be ok. I know it really, really, sucks, and I wish we didn’t have to do it, but we do. We’re all here for you, you know that right?”

Keith sighed, rolling his head from where it rested on his knees to look over at Lance. “I know you are. Doesn’t make it any easier. I thought I was past all that. Having to pretend to be something I'm not. It’s been hard enough being out here without even the possibility of access to my T shots. And now this. I think I would have been more ok with it if it didn’t look like that.”

“Yeah, I get that. Kinda exposes almost everything. None of us like it, even if I know Allura and Shiro are gonna look amazing in it, but Pidge and Hunk will be really uncomfortable. Hunk doesn’t like going to the beach without a shirt on unless he’s really comfortable with the people around him. And I don’t think I can even imagine Pidge in anything girly, let alone that. And even I’m not really comfortable with it. Way too much skin on display, y’know? I mean, I say this while wearing a crop top, but…” they trailed off with a soft laugh and turned to face Keith. “Really what I’m saying is that we’re all uncomfortable. I know it’s not exactly the same, but you’re not alone. If you need to stay close to one of us for the party to feel safe, it’s ok. No one will mind.”

Lance thought that the soft huffing sound that came from Keith might have been a laugh until they heard the sniffle and realized that he was wiping away tears.

“Thanks, Lance,” Keith said softly.

“Anytime, Samurai.”

It was barely a day after transmitting the team’s measurements to the planet’s surface before an unmanned shuttle landed onboard the castle. They realized that color preferences hadn’t been asked of them, and that their “outfits” were all individually wrapped in black tissue and labelled with their names. Coran busied himself with handing out the packages and sent Allura and the paladins off to change.

“Hey, Lance?” Keith called quietly.

They turned to him and immediately saw the discomfort and anxiety all over his face. “Hey, it’s ok. What do you need?”

“I think I need to call in that favor.”

“Ok. Would having Allura there help?”

Keith thought for a few seconds. “…Yeah, I think so.”

Lance turned to where the princess was making her way across the pod bay floor. “Allura, I have a question for you.”

She stopped and waited for both of them to catch up with her. “Yes? What is it?”

Lance looked to Keith first for his silent confirmation before continuing. “Keith’s gonna need some help with this. I figured you being the only girl here would help with making him as comfortable as we can.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Allow me to change and then we can meet.”

“My room?” Lance suggested.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

#my writing #abandoned wips #klance #keith x lance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

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apples-r-rubbish · 4 years

Text

Institute (13th Doctor x reader) Part 5

Summary: You’re on the run, no doctor, no time. Word Count: 2.4k AN: I’m going to be taking a lil break after the next chapter, just as I’m moving and I need time to adjust sorry -L x Warnings: none i think Tags: @startrekkingaroundasgard @penguinwithitsarseonfire

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4) (PART 6) (PART 7) (PART 8) MASTERLIST

Panic. Screaming. Wind. Noise. Fear. Tense breathing. More screaming. More panic.

“Hold on!” Graham shouted over the monstrous amount of noise. Ryan found a panel and somehow managed to fly the plane on his phone. You were too shaken to understand. O. The plane was finally level. The Master. You were shaking. Nothing really sunk in. You blinked and you were helped off the plane by the worried trio. You snuck past the guards as Barton spoke to someone official looking. You were in Essex according to Ryan, and now that you were off the plane things had finally begun to fall into place within your mind. You were being stared at by everyone.

“It’s hard not to stand out, when we look like this,” Ryan groaned frustrated at the suit

“We’ve just been on a night out and we’re going home, that’s all,” Yaz reassured a soothing voice trying to calm you all down. Your phone went off, as did the others. Cautiously you answered it. Barton. “Hello, friends. What, did you think I wouldn't be able to track you? We have your numbers, e-mails, GPS. I even know how many more stamps you need for a free coffee. So close, Ryan. Or should I say Logan? Look up.” You did as he said. On a screen above you all your faces were displayed, claiming you were dangerous. More cursing. “Your passports have been revoked, bank accounts frozen,” Barton continued “We have a record of everyone you know - friends, family, colleagues, everyone you ever followed on social media. Of course, we have cameras everywhere, and now you're wanted for hijacking. Go off the grid see how long you’ll last,”

In a panic, Ryan smashed his phone, Yaz attempted to call her mum and Graham froze. “Oh and Yazmin is attempting to call her mum, how sweet,” He spat sarcastically. Yaz had rambled into the phone briefly for a second before Ryan grabbed the phone and stomped on it, he did the same with your phone and Graham’s. Then you ran.

You had finally settled on a building estate, hours late. Bones aching, out of breath and tired.

“No CCTV we should be safe for now,” Graham said, clearly weary from the day. You filled into a half built house. You took a seat on a sort of wall as did the others

“How do we know we can trust you?” Ryan asked suddenly “We don’t know you. The Doctor trusted O, and he betrayed us, how do we know you won’t?”

“You don’t.” You replied shortly “I’m an outsider. You’ve seen me what? Twice before today? Three times because one of them hasn’t happened to me yet. You don’t know you can trust me. But you have to. If I wanted to turn on you, if I had malicious intent I would have ran off with the master, but I didn’t.”

“Who are you really? O said you were a missing person,” Yaz asked inner police woman jumping forward

“I am. Technically. I was recruited by people I know very little about to do a job, told me it was important so I took the role. Wiped me from my old life, gave me a new one,” “How come the Doctor didn’t recognise that person? Surely you would recognise someone like that?”

“Their species, they have a way of cheating death, burn up every cell in their body, change their face and who they are. The Doctor used to be a man, we have 12 other faces on file. The master also can do that, same species same thing,”

“Who was he?”

“Well, do you remember Harold Saxon? That used to be him,”

“What- I voted for him!” Graham exclaimed

You examined the looks on their faces, “You want to know about my future don’t you, you want to put the pieces together, but she’s said you can’t tell me. One question won’t kill me,”

“You mentioned you were going to die on another planet? How would you know something like that?” Yaz wondered

“This, this interaction. Time isn’t linear. It’s more a big lump, as time travellers, we jump in and out at various points, things aren’t linear things can be changed and rewritten. Surely she told you that?”

“She doesn’t exactly tell us a lot. Who are you to her really?”

“I’m no one important, I think, I don’t know. I get pieces in passing. A bit like a conversation you aren’t a part of yet, just occasional whispers. Her late wife visited me once, and told me to keep track of everything. Keep journals and notes, telling me it would help make things easier, clearer. She was in a similar position, they met when she died and they kept meeting, bumping into each other, in the wrong order, fell in love, nearly destroyed the universe,” You explained “The doctor trusts me and I trust the doctor. Good enough for me. Also we went on a date,”

“Since we’re admitting things, I stole some of the gadgets from MI6, I’m wearing the laser shoes. Before you ask, no I didn’t read the instructions,” Graham laughed

“I took the rocket cufflinks too,” Ryan smiled

“You utter doughnuts, all of you. But there’s no one I’d rather be on the run with,” Graham turned to you “Even you, you seem to know a lot and I trust you. You’re on the same wavelength as the Doctor and that’s good enough for me.”

“Did you hear that?” There was a noise, and light. Kasaavin. You stepped out the building one by one.

“The shoe, use the shoe,” Ryan urged

“What?”

“Just stomp or something!” Graham did. A bolt hit a nearby streetlight.

“Your aim is terrible,”

“Graham, just dance.” He did and a few bolts hit the figures. You grabbed the others hands and ran.

The sun was coming up, you hadn’t slept for about 36 hours and whilst Yaz made a phone call, you and Ryan leant against each other in a desperate attempt to stay awake. She hung up suddenly as a car pulled up. Men stepped out, threatening you. Graham came up behind them and waved his laser shoe dramatically

“-and don’t make me do the soft-shoe shuffle!” He stated over dramatically, as you got into the car. You had decided to drive

“Are you sure you’re going to be safe? Driving, I mean, 36 hours is a lot-” Yaz began cautiously

“I’ll be fine. I once stayed a awake for a week on some planet so I could do my job, and the days were 25 hours, this is nothing,” You joked

“Can we go to the institute? Surely they’ll keep us safe?”

“No, they won’t. Anything linked to present day criminal activity immediately gets you dropped. We deal with time, you so much as breathe wrong you’re dropped,” You explained, “We have to follow their GPS.” You sped off

The hanger was cold and empty. There was a single figure on a chair along with a stand and a screen, you rushed to it.

“Is she still?” Ryan asked, not wanting to say the word. You checked for a pulse, she was cold. You shook your head, “No she isn’t. She hasn’t been for a while, a few hours, at most, I think.” Barton appeared on the screen.

“Well done overpowering my people. But did you really think they wouldn't tell me? I have a significant announcement to make, and you, my friends, are two steps behind. As usual,” He mocked

“So what are you? Part alien or something?” Graham asked

“You really don't understand who I am. I build things. I test them. So I let them test a tiny part of me. And now it's time for the global roll-out. I'm proof of concept,”

“As the head of the Bad Wolf institute, I have to ask, what are you testing? Why don’t you stop with the theatrics and murder? Make my job the tiniest bit easier,” You asked, temper flaring

“Look after my mum.” The call ended. You went to hit the screen and decided against instead choosing to make a loud noise.

“He killed his own mum,” Yaz breathed

“And abandoned her, in a hanger, to rot,” You stated, formal tone back. The screen came on once again, this time to an image of Barton giving a talk.

“-We told you, of course your lives are private, of course your data's safe. And you believed us. You kept clicking Agree. And now, we can do anything. I can send a text to every device on this planet.”

“Something doesn’t make sense, I’m missing something, I’m being stupid. God why does lack of sleep does this,” You grumbled. A message flashed up on the screen. Humanity is over, you have three minutes to prepare. The statue started spinning.

“Funny, right? Except, not a joke. We are way past peak human. We've created systems that are smarter and can run more efficiently than we do. So what's our purpose? We must be useful for something. Well, the data tells us we are. We can repurpose. Well, you all can. You know the most efficient type of hard drives on Planet Earth? Humans. Human DNA can store so much data. We're the perfect storage system, which means there are over seven billion potentially incredibly useful hard drives on this planet. All that's needed is to reformat the whole of humanity. Luckily, there's an app for that.” Barton chuckled, tone sinister.

The room was filled with light. The Kasaavin. The hangar door swung open. The master.

“Move away. Now! I've just had the most infuriating seventy seven years of my life. Have you any idea how hard it is to live through the 20th century? The places I've escaped from. Still, just in time to watch you all pay.” He grumbled, he looked aggressive like a wolf ready to attack.

“What is it? What the hell is that thing?” You asked, barely giving the others time to react

“Back with us I see? Aw shock was good look on you, shame the Doctor won’t get to see more of it,” He snarled “ If you must know, dear, it converts and transmits. We're transmitting Kasaavin energy around the world all at once into every device, hitting every human being and erasing all their DNA simultaneously. And it’s beautiful.” The energy grabbed Yaz, she couldn’t let go, you tried to pull her off, it wouldn’t move, she couldn’t budge.

“No use. It’ll take her, then you then you, and finally Miss Institute herself, a shame.” The machine stopped suddenly, the figures vanished.

“You were saying?” You replied smugly

“Sorry. I’ll admit I was close,” The doctor. Relief washed over you. She entered the hangar followed by two other women.

“Two can play at embedding things in history. I knew the Silver Lady was important, and that you built it for a reason, but I couldn't work out why. So I traced its movements through history. And when I saw that Barton now owned it, we stopped by his office. Middle of last year, using your Tardis, I built a fail-safe into that machine. Planted a virus. If it ever detected the massing of a Kasaavin army within its systems - total shutdown,” She explained. The room glowed again, circling everyone.

“Well Doctor, looks like you’re going to have to explain everything to them,”

“Look, I’ve rigged the Silver lady to send you back your own dimension. And that deal he made with you?” She pulled out her sonic and played a audio clip

‘Barton and these creatures do the dirty work, and once they're done, I get rid of them, having destroyed your precious human race in the process. Win-win-win.’

“Oh,” Was all the Master could manage to say

“Yes that’s your name, don’t wear it out,” She replied before the light increased. And with that the room was empty again, “Everyone alright? Everyone safe?” A chorus of yes sounded of from the group

“Miss me?” She asked a small but beautiful smile on her face, wrapping her arm around you

“Always,” You replied pressing a small kiss to her lip

“I hate to break up a sweet moment but I have questions. Who are they? And are we being replaced?” Graham asked

“Oh these are Noor and Ada, I’m dropping them off back in their timeline, like I could ever replace any of you.”

They were dropped off back in their respective times.

“So where to now?” The doctor asked, flipping a few switches

“The institute for me, I’m afraid,” You cringed, desperately wanting to stay

“What?” She suddenly looked up staring deep into your eyes, clearly hurt.

“I have to warm them, the Master is out there, and we have to prepare. We’ve barely managed to fix everything after the issues in 2015. I do want to stay, I truly do, but it’s hard and I have to look after them,” You avoided her eyes

“It’s ok I get it. Since we’re synced I can say this, whenever we meet up synced or not we have to go on a date, because we don’t know when it’s going to happen so we might as well enjoy it,” She wandered over to where you were stood

“Like time girlfriends?” “Time girlfriends,” She nodded. You kissed her cheek, and she smiled into it, hugging you tightly.

“Miss you already,” You joked taking steps out of the TARDIS and back into your office the day that you left.

“Are you ok? You’ve been a bit distant recently,” Yaz asked, breaking the Doctor from her thoughts. It had been a few months, since they’d seen you as a group.

“I’m fine,” She replied shortly

“You miss her don’t you?” The doctor ignored the question continuing to focus on the random buttons she was fiddling with. “Look, why don’t you take us to visit your home?”

“Can’t. Shouldn’t. You’ll ask too many questions. It’s boring. Why do you think I ran?” She explained, her usual answers combining into one, “but yes I miss her,”

#doctor who self insert #thirteen x reader #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #thirteenth doctor x reader #thirteenth Doctor imagine #doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #13th doctor #13th doctor x reader #13th doctor/reader #13th doctor/you

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attempting-writer · 4 years

Note

I read your supernette au and now i'm wondering if Fu connected the dots on the first girl he chose to be Ladybug being the superhero that showed up on the second coming of Stoneheart

Alright, let’s get back into it.

· For the sake of canon, we’ll have Marinette call herself Calliope, in her superhero form, from the beginning.

It’s very fitting as she is not the primary hero here, thanks anon

· Her second meeting with Fu will take place in Princess Fragrance.

· As Rose can’t afford to be akumatized here, I’ll have her simply distracted from the fact that Prince Ali is in town, due to the fact that she’s a hero and is trying to focus on hawkmoth a bit more.

· Also thanks to Tikki, she’s got a bit more of a realistic look on life, as she and Jules are closer than ever, on the verge of thinking that maybe they might actually have been dating all this time.

· So basically, she doesn’t write that letter to Prince Ali and perfume it, but it’s a big school, maybe someone else would also be a fan-girl of Ali and try to do something similar, get caught, and akumatized, so yeah,

· Rose loses Tikki as she leaves school, likely just falls out of her purse as she’s excited to hang out with Juleka.

· Chloe finds Tikki at the front of the school and Marinette recognizes her and tries to get it back from Chloe in the same way, things go relatively normally with how that goes on.

· But Marinette successfully follows Chloe’s limo to the hotel and manages to cause a distraction and snatch the kwami right out of Chloe’s hand, just before she enters the building.

· Marinette notices that Tikki is sick and takes her back to Fu using her super speed

· Fu was just chilling in his massage parlor, wondering out loud, “I wonder how Calliope was able to respond to the akuma attacks so quickly….”

· when a sudden burst of wind came in and Mari was just standing in front of him, Tikki in hand

· He’s just like “… ah”

· So Fu heals Tikki, not pretending not to know what she is for the sake of secrets

· They exchange questions for a little while: “What is the source of your power?” “Earth is! The environment has more oxygen and less ionizing radiation than my planet. Why can’t I see through their masks?” “Magic protects their identities. Earth’s environment? Are you… an alien? From space?” “Yup, I’m from the same planet as America’s Superman. He’s unofficially my uncle, even though we’re not really related. What are the miraculous? Where did the magic come from?” “The Kwami are embodiments of concepts and ideas in their purest forms; from the beginning of those concepts, they were created. The miraculous were only created so they can interact with our world and manifest their powers here. Did you know you were allergic to magic? Is that why you refused the miraculous?” “I knew I was probably weak to it, but I didn’t know how bad it could get, but I mostly did it because I didn’t want to be too powerful… all things considered… Also I can’t have my ears pierced… Why select children, of all people, to be heroes? Aren’t there adults, who could do the job better?” “Children are less likely to use the miraculous powers selfishly, they are less likely to be corrupted, and there is also a matter of limiting their power.”

· Fu heals Tikki and she tells Marinette to take her back to the school and leave her there

· Marinette does and rushes off to her room to change and join the fight

· Robin was put under the spell because his respirator didn’t filter out the magic smoke, but chat wasn’t because Robin went in first and he had to nope out or get cut by a singing Robin.

· Pixiebug comes in shortly afterwards

· The fight is won when Calliope blows Princess Fragrance’s perfume back at her and uses her laser eyes to break open the canister, releasing the buttefly

· Pixie hugs Callie very tightly, or as tightly as she can and thanks her for taking care of Tikki

· Marinette doesn’t let Damian live down his singing hypnotism that easily, but she does complement his singing voice (and asks him to sing to her on multiple occasions)

And while we’re on the topic of mentor figures and meeting, let’s have Aquaman and Wonderwoman sneak to Paris to meet the miraculous team.

· They catch them during one of their nightly patrols

· Arthur starts by pretending to be there to claim revenge on Plagg for what he did to Atlantis

· Can’t keep a straight face at the little black cat before him and immediately goes into big-brother mode, patting him on the back and stuff

· Diana can’t help but gush at the child, wearing her mother’s old miraculous, Pixiebug gushes at the daughter of one of her predecessors

· Marinette arrives late with Robin, each of them carrying a rather large bag of pastries, from a familiar patisserie, in hand, heroes need the extra calories (or that’s her excuse for trying to put some meat on chat’s bones)

· The two elder heroes immediately pounce on Calliope, each taking a hand to shake, leaving robin to distribute the pastries to the other two

· They comment on how cute and tiny she looks, aquaman goes as far as pinching her cheek

· A mistake

· She squeezes their hands, hard

· Diana is impressed at her strength and complements her, “You really are a Kryptonian!”

· Arthur is on his knees, holding her wrist with his free hand and begging for forgiveness

· Everyone, but Robin he only smirks, laughs as greetings are done and they start to make small-talk

· Then Robin asks, “I thought Batman and Superman banned the Justice league from interfering. Considering the terrorist that can control minds, and all.”

· Everyone looks at him before Arthur pipes up, “An Atlantean steel sword, custom made for you says that they won’t hear about it from you.”

· Robin doesn’t hesitate, “Done.”

· Arthur laughs, “So Red Hood was wrong, you are very reasonable.”

· Calliope then clears her throat,

· Diana: “Amazonian silks and Atlantean scale mail, if they don’t hear about it from you, either.”

· Calliope: “Done”

· Pixie and Chat, awkwardly scoot themselves into view

· Aquaman and Wonderwoman exchange glances before looking back at them: “autographs?”

· CN: “Yes, please” PB: “Can I get a picture of me dangling off your arms?”

· They spend the evening exchanging battle stories and eating pastries before Wonderwoman and Aquaman return to the watchtower

· Clark and Bruce don’t hear about it for another two weeks

· Clark video calls Marinette later to confirm their suspicions

· Damian was already there, sharpening a new sword on her chase with a whetstone

· Marinette was putting a dress together with some expensive looking silk

· CK: “Did Wonderwoman and Aquaman show up at any point in the past two weeks?”

· Damian: “I think we would know if two members of the Justice League were in Paris, right Angel?” Doesn’t look away from his Atlantean steel sword.

· Marinette: “Yeah, what are you talking about uncle Clark?” Gently brushes her hand over the Amazonian silk dress.

· Bruce in the background of Clark’s video: “Riiiiiiiight-wait ‘angel’?”

Tag list

@virgil-is-a-cutie @vixen-uchiha @lozzybowe @tired-butterfly @tbehartoo @abrx2002

#supernette #Anonymous #daminette #mldc #ml dc crossover #ml x dc #Kryptonian Marinette #I'm calling her calliope #thanks to anon

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timelord-winchester-22b · 4 years

Text

According to Him

I honestly didn't expect such a quick response to the last fic and it actually made me super excited! This one is definitely longer and there's no Doctor in it (possibly some more Doctor in a potential third part...)

Warnings: very light choking, no more than most Master fics tbh, a stabbing

@actuallyanita

To anyone who didn't see the first: According to You

In the moments after you’d called the Doctor your surroundings changed drastically. One second you were in an abandoned break room of a distribution center and the next you were in what you could only assume was a Tardis. The Master released you, letting you drop to your knees, still dizzy from the unexpected teleport. You glanced around as he headed to the console to take off, recognizing something here and there from the inside of O’s house; this Tardis last you had seen it. But other than the odd shelf or knick knack, or the very out of place sofa in the corner, it was entirely different. It was darker than the Doctor’s console room.

You looked over to the console then, trying to gauge how much danger you were currently in. A lot, was your first thought. You were ignored for the moment, so you decided to stay where you were, hoping not to draw attention. The Master was currently circling the console, probably piloting you somewhere to dump you. The Tardis settled slightly, and then his sights were set on you. You scrambled to your feet when he began to approach you, but only managed to make it easier for him to push you into the wall behind you, one hand around your throat. Not enough to restrict your breathing, barely enough to cause discomfort. A warning.

“Why did you let me go?” The Master asked, catching you off guard. You’d expected more insults and treats than questions.

“I didn’t” You responded nonetheless.

“Do not lie to me” He warned, dark eyes flashing dangerously in the low light of the console room. “I was there. Why did you let me get away?”

“I didn’t expect you to actually get away” You elaborated. “I figured if you’d had a teleport you would have used it right away instead of sneaking off”

The Master paused a moment, considering this new information.

“Still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell the others when you saw me” He pointed out. This time you were the one to pause, considering how much you really wanted to tell him. You’d waited a moment too long and the hand at your throat tightened minutely.

“I was giving you a chance” You blurted out in a panic. He stopped, now looking genuinely confused, but didn’t reply. He was waiting for you to continue.

“Last night I followed the Doctor after the others had gone to bed. I wanted to apo- speak to her. I found her in a room I’d never seen before, some kind of glass cage. Had a piano in it for some reason? Anyway, I didn’t understand what it might be for but I knew I wasn’t supposed to have seen it. I only connected the dots when I saw you walk into the room”

The Master was eyeing you curiously now, but you could tell he didn’t think it was explanation enough.

“I figured the Doctor still had a chance of catching you even if I didn’t say anything. And… well I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a glass box with only my ex for company”

“The Doctor is not my ‘ex’” The Master snarled in return, dropping you to turn back to the console. You steadied yourself on your feet but stayed where you were. He seemed to be thinking, wandering around the console, flicking a switch here and there absentmindedly. The Doctor did the same when she was thinking, you remembered.

“Short range teleport” The Master said suddenly, glancing up at you.

“What?”

“Are you deaf, human?”

You frowned but didn’t comment on the insult.

“I only had a short range teleport to the Tardis. Anyone too close would be teleported with me, primitive tech. That’s why I was ‘sneaking off’”

You nodded in reply, unsure how to proceed in this situation. There wasn’t really a handbook for what to do when getting kidnapped by your alien friend’s childhood best friend. The Master had gone back to actually piloting, and you decided to risk treading a little closer when he pulled a monitor towards him to look at something.

“Finding a black hole to throw me in?” You questioned, making his raise an eyebrow at you.

“No” He replied shortly. He flicked a few switches and then looked back at you, sighing. “How about… food?” He offered, surprising you.

“Food?” You repeated, confused.

“Going to have to get your hearing checked” The Master mumbled in exasperation. “Yes, food. The Doctor is obsessed with chips for some reason, but I could never see why. I did grow to like the food in Australia enough while I was there. Meat pies? Pasties?”

“Uhhhh… sure” You responded eloquently. The Master nodded and the next thing you knew he had landed and began rushing you out the door. You glanced around at your surroundings, still surprised the Master would be letting you out of the Tardis, let alone be taking you for food. You’d landed in Melbourne, in the middle of the city, not far from where the Doctor had landed you the time you’d visited with her. It was comforting to be in a place you recognized during such an unfamiliar situation.

“Now don’t even think about trying to run off” The Master warned, securing the door of his Tardis, which was disguised as a regular telephone booth. You kept close when he started walking, not wanting to see what he might do if you didn’t.

“Course not” You responded easily, playing the part of unbothered. “Wouldn’t want to lose your Doctor-bait before you’d managed to set up your trap” The Master glanced at you from the corner of his eyes as you walked.

“What makes you think I want to use you as Doctor bait?” He questioned curiously.

“You told me to drop the toy gun” You pointed out. “There wasn’t much of a point to that-considering it couldn’t possibly hurt you-other than to leave a hint to the Doctor that I’d been taken. That and me calling for her would make her number one priority suddenly trying to get me back. You could have her spend years looking for me or you could use me to lure her in. I feel like if you just wanted her looking you’d have gone ahead and thrown me into a black hole. The fact that I’m still alive makes me think you want her to find me”

The Master wac watching you when you’d finished talking.

“You’re not as stupid as most humans” He pointed out, seeming a little surprised by it.

“Thanks” You responded, knowing that was the closest he could get to a compliment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’d been with the Master for a few days now, and by this point you were kind of wondering what the hold up was with the plan to trap the Doctor. The Master seemed to always be watching you from the corner of his eye whenever you were in the same room. He left you a few times with the assurance that any attempt to escape or mess with anything would result in the Tardis electrocuting you. But you weren’t really planning on messing with anything anyway, it’s not like you knew how any of it worked.

One thing you weren’t expecting about being aboard the Master’s Tardis was the peace. It was quiet whenever he was gone, and a lot of the time even when he was there. You also hadn’t expected him to allow you your own room. It was very sparsely furnished, only a bed and a desk, but you were allowed access to the kitchen, the library and a small portion of the wardrobe. They were all very near your room and you figured that was to keep you from wandering too far into the Tardis.

Most of the time the Master left you alone as long as he knew where you were and you weren’t bothering him,so you were surprised to wake up to find him in your desk chair in the middle of the night. He wasn’t doing anything, just watching you. You knew you should probably be bothered by the fact that he was watching you sleep, but his features displayed more of a calm than you’d expected to ever see on him. He still frowned, like he was deep in thought, but in the dark his posture was almost relaxed.

“I can’t get you out of my head” The Master spoke suddenly, seeing that you were awake. The words surprised you, spoken almost as an accusation. “I can’t work you out. I’ve come across so many humans in my lifetime, plenty who were different to the rest, the type the Doctor would pick up. But you…” He scowled. “You’re just… unusual, and I can’t work out why”

The room was quiet again when he’d stopped speaking. You shifted to sit up and the lights brightened slightly, allowing the two of you to see each other clearer.

“I’m sorry” You said, feeling the need to. The Master huffed.

“You should be” Was all he said in return, promptly standing up and leaving. You blinked at the door for a few minutes after he’d slammed it. Assuming he wasn’t coming back anytime soon, you shuffled back down under the covers and went back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’d been with the Master for weeks now. You were losing count honestly. At this point you were really beginning to wonder why he still kept you around. Surely he would be wanting you off his ship as soon as possible? He’d even begun to drag you along on his little outings, causing chaos throughout the universe, leaving behind a trail of messes for the Doctor to clean up. Perhaps this was part of his game, perhaps he simply wanted the Doctor chasing after him for a while, making her more and more anxious to find you. Though you weren’t entirely sure she wouldn’t want you off her ship either.

You’d stopped off on a planet on the brink of war, the Master obviously wanting to tip it over the edge as an excuse to tear some things up himself. You weren’t entirely sure why he thought to bring you along, but you weren’t about to question him too much. He hadn’t snapped at you in any big way since you’d been aboard his Tardis, but you were still wary of pushing your luck.

Your job was simple, knock right on the door of the king’s castle and claim you’d escaped as a prisoner from the other king. The Master was confident they’d let you right in, and though you weren’t so sure you went along with it anyway. Any fate you might meet in the castle, should they not believe your story, would be no worse than if you’d directly disobeyed the Master. To your surprise, you were in fact let right in. Upon being brought to the king, you’d gotten right to the second instruction you’d been given. Distract him.

You didn’t really have any clever plan ready by the time the Master had shoved you towards the door and run off, so you settled for the first thing you could come up with, flirting with the king. It seemed to work, the man quickly becoming enamored with you, and far sooner than you’d expected the Master was bursting in. Once the guards had been dealt with, the Master turned to you with a grin.

“Now then, we’d best get going, there’ll be an army on it’s way any moment to tear down the castle” The Master informed you.

“What is the meaning of this?” The king demanded, fuming. “There’s no way the south will attack, they know they could never breach our borders!”

“Well perhaps that was before you launched a missile directly into your own defenses, and another into their capital city just to make sure they’re angry enough” The Master grinned. He turned back to you. “Come on then” He said again, waving you over. You were about to join him as he’d said, when you were stopped by a sharp pain in your side. You cried out, falling to your knees as the man beside you pulled the dagger back out of your side. The Master’s eyes darkened faster than you’d thought possible, and as you faded in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes you could hear the king screaming the whole time.

Time was passing you by every time you blinked. One moment you were on the floor of the throne room, then in someone’s arms, in the console room for a brief moment before you didn’t recognise anything anymore. You were lying on stiff sheets, everything was white, it was too bright, your whole body ached and your side screamed in pain like you were being stabbed all over again. You must have blacked out because the pain was suddenly gone, barely there, like a lingering soreness after a bruise.

You blinked, looking around to find yourself still in the unfamiliar room, white walls and medical equipment everywhere you looked. Did the Master’s Tardis have an infirmary? It must have. The only thing that broke the blinking white of the room was the man in the chair beside your bed. He seemed miraculously underdressed compared to what he normally wore, and you found yourself wondering what happened to his clothes to make him change into the dark purple sweater and dark jeans he now sported.

“Welcome back” The Master said, interrupting that train of thought before you could ponder it for too long.

“Hi” You said in response.

“That was a terrible plan, let’s never do that again”

“The plan kind of worked actually” You couldn’t help but point out, grinning despite yourself. The Master shot you a warning look, shifting his gaze pointedly to the bandage now wrapped around your middle.

“I mean before the whole stabbing thing. I think all that really needs to be amended is I’ll go stand behind you before you tell the king he’s started his war with a disadvantage” You continued. The Master hummed, seemingly agreeing with that idea. “I was a little surprised at how well it did work actually” You added.

“I wasn’t” The Master said, scoffing a little.

“Not that it was a bad plan” You amended, thinking he might be offended. “But how did you know they’d let me in? That the king would be so easily distracted by me?”

“Because you’re beautiful” The Master shrugged, like it was obvious. He froze only moments after the last syllable left his lips, like he’d realized what he’d said. You were shocked, but in an effort to rid the both of you of embarrassment simply nodded and muttered a ‘thanks’. The Master nodded in return, standing from his chair.

“You should rest” The Master told you, one hand going to brush your hair back from your temple, his fingers brushing your skin ever so slightly. You were already succumbing to sleep by the time you’d realised what he was doing.

Logically considering how close you were to unconsciousness, you probably dreamed the last thing he said, right? It wasn’t something you’d expect him to say, and although most of your interactions with him were unexpected, you couldn’t help but doubt still, when you woke up fully healed and remembered what you’d heard.

“I don’t want to lose you anytime soon”

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

Edit:

Part 3: Too Bad You're Making Me Decide

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #doctor who reader insert #fanfiction #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #master x reader

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