THE BAD BATCH BINGO

Photos of Din Djarin laying down that my lawyer WILL be hearing about

Bonus 1: BARE WRIST

Bonus 2: BYE

Insatiable - Chapter One: Let Me Taste You

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: flirting, kissing, use of aphrodisiacs, dirty talk, semi-public groping/dry humping, fingering, oral (f receiving), mentions of an age gap (reader is 21), mentions of bisexuality.

Summary: Known for your incredible intellect, you’re invited to Dorne to meet the royal family as one of their honored guests. You meet Prince Oberyn, who’s interest in you is immediate and evident. You return his affections throughout the night as the family invites guests for a lively gathering. When you return from the bathroom, Oberyn heightens your flirtatious interactions as he meets you in the empty hallway on your way back to the ballroom.

A/N: oh lord I loved writing this, I can already tell this series will be a handful LOL. This was longer than I originally intended, but oh well, I am SO proud of it! Our promiscuous prince is an absolute sun god that can take me ANY day of the week. Hope y’all enjoy <3

Series Details:

- This series will loosely follow the outline of the show Game of Thrones, but you don’t need to be familiar with the show to understand what’s going on.

- Since Oberyn is known to be a salve for the sexy times, there will definitely be smut in every chapter.

- We are also beginning in a timeline that currently does not involve Ellaria. It’s not that I don’t absolutely love her (I totally do) I’m just more into monogamous relationships personally, so that’s where I’m gonna start. But who knows where this series will go.

- ANYWAYS, without further ado, our gorgeous Prince of Dorne and his overwhelming desire for the reader begins below.

Dorne was a land you’d never seen before but heard many stories of. Its infamous water gardens and tropical temperature was foreign to you, though not undesirable. In fact, the trip seemed comparable to a miniature vacation. Your presence was requested by the Lord of Dorne. After hearing of your intellect and travels, he wanted to meet you for himself. Many did, after all. When you became of age, your father flaunted you about, dragging you throughout the Seven Kingdoms in order to earn wealth and infamy. It wasn’t that you didn’t like it, you rather enjoyed being the center of attention, but the trips were long and tedious, and you yearned for a break from your busy life.

“I’ve heard stories of the prince of Dorne.” Your best friend tittered girlishly as she helped you pack.

“Have you now?” you smirked, pulling out another suitcase. The carriage would be here in the morning for your two-day trek. The Lord even sent one of their own; how charming.

“Oh yes, he’s very handsome.” She continued, gossiping as she helped fold your dresses. “And rather promiscuous.”

“And who are you hearing this from, Anya?” you question, humor in your voice.

Anya was two years younger than you, and still in school. She was actually due to be sent away to the Citadel to further her studies while you were gone. However, no matter how talented she may be when it came to her education, she always lacked a bit in maturity, diving into rumors and drama whenever she could.

“Everyone!” she squealed, excited for you and your new adventure. “I hear he fancies both women and men.” She whispers to you.

“It’s not that uncommon.” You glanced back at her, knowing she’s aware of your own sexual orientation.

“I know, but… I’ve just never met anyone else like that!” You grimaced at this. She could be so strange sometimes.

“Promise me you’ll write!” she requests, closing your suitcase.

“Of course,” you turn, reassuring her.

“I’ll miss you.”

“I know, I’ll miss you too. But don’t worry, the Citadel is a marvelous place. You’ll have a great time with your studies.”

Anya nodded, staring back at you before embracing you in a tight hug. She’d never been to Dorne, either. If you could, you’d take her with you, and if you’re being honest, you’re a little nervous for your own travels. This would be there first time you were visiting a new place on your own. After your twenty-first birthday, your father opted out of these journeys. He claimed that you’re grown enough to handle this on your own now, and you are. It’s just new to you, is all.

But that was the other day. Your thoughts have done absolutely nothing to calm your nerves as you continue on toward the foreign land’s palace. Sitting inside the carriage, you scan your wooden surroundings. Your two suitcases sit on the bench across from you, often where your father sat. He was great company on these expeditions, offering conversation and amusement when the treks became long and boring. But now, you had no one. But you can do this, you’re more than capable of doing this. Truly, it’s Anya’s comments that currently fuel your nervousness. You hadn’t been approached sensually by a man in so many years, and of course not while your father visited these places with you. If the prince truly is as flirtatious as Anya claims, you’re in for a treat.

Your thoughts entertain you on and off throughout your journey, along with the books you packed and the drawings you continue to detail. The closer you get to the land filled of flourishing fauna and flowing streams, the hotter the temperature inside the carriage becomes. Your halter dress is ideal for the tropical conditions, allowing much of your skin to breath as the majority of it is exposed. You tie your long hair up into a bun at the nape of your neck. Only a few more hours.

When you finally reach your destination, you’re overwhelmed by the heat radiating from the bright sun. Your home was warm, but nothing compared to this. Glancing out the window, you see the amazing structure of the royal edifice come into view, its large architecture and blooming foliage truly breathtaking. Once stopped, you’re assisted out of the carriage by one of the guards chaperoning your trip. He’d accompanied you on this visit, offering to be your personal aid and security while away from home, which you truly appreciated. While Dorne was a welcoming and friendly place, you’d need a familiar face in order to feel comfortable for your four-week stay. Yes, that’s right. For whole weeks. The Lord planned on inviting many guests to his home, flaunting you as his honored guest. You don’t mind though; a few parties should be fun.

“Thank you, Ambrose.” You smile sweetly, taking his hand as you step down.

A woman descends the palace steps, gracefully striding towards you. She greets you, introducing herself as Milena, one of the royal family’s servants.

“The Lord of Sunspear wishes to see you, promptly.”

“Oh, okay.” You stutter, turning to the carriage behind you. “Should I grab my things first?”

“Oh no,” she laughs, waving a hand as if it was a silly thing for you to ask. “We will have those taken care of for you. Now, if you’ll follow me.” She smiles sweetly, gesturing again with her hand as she silently asks you to follow her inside.

The layout and designs within the building are just as spectacular as those on its exterior. Large, multi-shaped corridors and archways lead you through the palace’s many hallways and open space. Your eyes take in the vivid colors and patterns that surround you; you’ve never seen anything like it. The servant’s pace eventually slows as you reach a particular room, clearly meant for entertaining with its open entrance and sizeable space.

The Lord of Sunspear sits at the far wall, adorning a golden throne sat upon a raised step. His frame is thin, his features dark as his eyes rest upon you. His brown hair is long, but thinning, a receding hairline forming on either side of his temples. Facial hair scatters along his cheeks and jawline, and he wears a robe bright enough in color to match the chair highlighting his royal position. To your left, his Lady sits, bouncing a child on her lap. Off to your right is a lengthy couch, another man half-sprawled out across the lavish fabric. You curtsy, doing your best to be as polite as you are graceful.

The man and woman sitting on the extravagant furniture on either side of you look up, acknowledging your presence. Lady Mellario hands her infant son off to a hand maiden who hurries away with him. The nobleman sitting on his throne nods at your elegant bow, appreciating the sentiment and formality.

“Welcome,” the Lord stands, his harms spread wide.

He walks toward you, reaching out to hold your hands in his. You smile at him, comforted by his gestures.

“We greatly appreciate your visit and are delighted to meet you. Allow me to introduce you to my family.” He leads you over to his wife, his hand on your lower back as he introduces you.

“Lady Mellario,” you grin, nodding to her in a show of respect.

She smiles back, greeting you kindly. You find it strange, though, her quietness. Regardless, you’re turned around to face the other man in the room. He sits up as your eyes meet, standing and walking over to you.

“This is my brother, Prince Oberyn.”

The prince leans down, taking your right hand in his before lifting it and pressing his lips to your knuckles. You stare into his dark eyes, his smirk evident as he greets you.

“Very nice to meet you,” he purrs, his voice low and accent dissimilar to yours.

You smile, sighing lightly at his chivalrous actions and baritone voice. He’s taller than you and has dark features, darker than that of his brother. His jawline is sharp, nearly black facial hair blooming along it and his upper lip. His lean muscle is prominent beneath his yellow robe, exposed by the front opening of his tunic, displaying his smooth, bronzed chest. He seems older than you, much older, in fact. Somehow, this only adds to his attractive charm.

“Well, I would love to entertain, but I must tend to other matters.” The Lord claps his hands his hands eagerly as he speaks, inadvertently pulling you out of the prince’s trance. “You will be shown to your chambers shortly, I advise you prepare yourself for the night’s event. My visitors will be arriving within a few hours. You’ll sit at our table, as Dorne’s honored guest.” The Lord behind you explains, placing his hands on your shoulders.

You turn your head slightly, nodding to him. “Thank you, I’m very excited.”

The same servant that led you inside directs you to where you’ll be staying. You admire your surroundings, the chamber enormous in its entirety. Upon entrance, you notice the large bed off to your left, held up on a higher level than the rest of the room by a large step. The bed is round in shape, decorated with many silk pillows and blankets. Straight ahead is a balcony overlooking part of the water gardens below. To the right sits a work area, a sizeable desk accompanied by a lavish bookcase. In the corner past this is your bathroom. An enormous bath lays in the ground, heated by springs pumped through the palace walls. The entire chamber smells sweetly of flowered perfumes and oils, the freshy cut blossoms sitting in expensive vases also adding to the pleasant aroma.

Your servant leaves quickly, allowing you to bask in the beauty of your surroundings in private. You sit on your luxurious bedspread, holding the smooth fabric of your pillow on your lap and stroking its sheen texture. A breeze flows through the curtains separating the main space from the balcony, the sun’s rays dancing across the marbled ground at your feet. You were right, this trip would not be work, it would be relaxing. Though, Lord Doran did advise you to get ready to entertain, so you decide to do just that.

Your suitcases have been placed next to your desk on the far side of the room, and you open the top one to lay out your dresses, surveying your options. They’re each hand crafted from multiple fabrics, each a different shade and style. You eventually decide on a waist-high even split dress. It’s nude in color and flows smoothly over your body. The dress’ neckline is extremely low cut. The fabric at your waist parts into two sections, one larger and one smaller. The larger portion flows down your backside, while the other covers your front in between your legs. Your skin from your hips down is revealed in its entirety. You’d have to be careful tonight; one wrong move and you’d embarrass yourself for your lack of undergarments. The thinness of the dress won’t allow for anything to be worth beneath it, not elegantly anyway. You were never one to cover up though, especially in the hot sun that hung over Dorne. The attire was quite to your liking. Now within the cool walls of the majestic building, you decide to wear your hair down, fully expressing your beauty. You choose to wear the sandals you came in with, also nude in color as they wrap up your calf.

You’re ready much quicker than you expected. You know you’ll have to wait at least an hour before a servant returns to lead you downstairs and to your seat at the head table, maybe even longer. You scan the room, eyes returning to the last unpacked suitcase. You have time, and it’s only one bag, it should be quick job. Your books are first, and you lean over in order to grab as many as you can. But just as you start to set them onto the bookshelf off to your left, you hear a knock on the door. Your body shoots upright, spinning around just in time to see the large wooden door open slowly. Oberyn’s sudden presence frightens you for a moment, causing you to yelp as you turn. He chuckles, surveying your room as he lets himself in.

“Prince Oberyn,” you blurt out, watching him enter further.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he speaks, turning to shut your door before approaching you. “I wanted to introduce myself again, get the chance to speak with you privately.”

“Is there something wrong?” you ask, your brow furrowing in confusion.

“No,” he smiles, sighing as he looks down at you. “I’d just like to speak with you before our company arrives. That’s all.” He purrs, taking your hand in his again, his thumb stroking your soft skin. You blush at his actions, your gaze faltering as you glance at your feet.

“I want you to know, that when you’re in my palace, you need not address me as prince.” You look up, eyes meeting as he continues. “My title has no purpose coming from your lips.”

His hand leave yours, coming up toward your face, his pointer finger and thumb looking as if they mean to cup your chin. He tuts as his digits barely glide over your skin, deciding against it and lowering his hand. You’re left with a questionable emotion, wishing you’d felt his skin on yours as he backs away from you.

“Were you unpacking?” he questions, raising his eyebrows and gesturing to your books.

“Oh, yes. I figured I had the time.” You shrug, looking over your shoulder at them.

He leans over you, reaching behind you to pick one up, the edge of his robe brushing over your bare shoulder. The prince leans back and flicks through its pages, admiring its detail. This particular book covers a wide expanse of natural poisons among various plants and roots, something the prince studied extensively in his years at the Citadel, reminding you of his infamous title as the Red Viper. He hums as he reads for a moment, then shuts the book and places it back on your desk.

“My brother thinks you are an intelligent woman.” He steps forward, encroaching on your space as his hand flattens against the surface of your sturdy desk.

You cock your head to the side and raise an eyebrow as your confidence returns, assuming his words suggest doubt in your intellect. “And what do you think, Oberyn?” you inquire, trying out his request at the dismissal of his title.

“An intelligent woman, indeed.” He agrees, his voice lowering and nodding his head slightly. He towers above you, peering down into your eyes and tilting his head before asking, “Where did you study? The Citadel?”

You find this humorous, a small laugh escaping past your lips. “The Citadel studies me.” You respond complacently.

“An honor, no doubt.” He smirks, a single finger moving to run over the curve of your cheek. “One I would be delighted to receive.”

The prince’s suggestive remarks elicit a thundering pulse within you, arousal quickly building in your lower stomach. His beauty is palpable, as well as his attraction toward you.

“What do you want to know?” you question, breathing out shakily as he inches closer.

“I want to know what makes you tick, little one.” He mutters, “What makes your cleverness as bright as your beauty?”

The nickname and praise stir something deep in your chest while butterflies erupt in your stomach. Calling you “little one” while standing so tall and robust before you, his age much older than your own, his baritone voice speaking to you so softly, his eyes not once leaving yours… it makes you feel so innocent, submissive… like prey cornered by a hunter.

“Rather flirtatious toward your guests, aren’t we?” you inquire sarcastically, smirking up at him.

He purrs at this, appreciating your wits. “Only with ones as alluring as you.”

At this, you’re speechless. Your breath is caught in your throat and you’re currently out of clever remarks. When he sees your reaction, clearly entranced in his subtle seduction, his smile widens.

“What a beautiful dress,” he grins sweetly in your silence, the back of his hand roaming lightly over the fabric on your stomach as he glances down. His mouth parts slightly, his brow furrowing faintly as he focuses on the outline of your body beneath the thin cloth. His hand wraps around you, palm meeting the skin of your back as he gently places it on your waist. Your heartbeat quickens at his closeness, his curved nose inches from yours.

“Quite a taunting design.” He admits, his eyes shifting to the swell of your breasts. You grin wickedly, reveling in the prince’s full attention.

“As is yours,” you remark, staring at his bronze chest. His robe shifts open even more as he moves, further exposing his toned frame.

“Yes,” he sighs out, the hand on your waist moving up to rest just below the curve of your tits. He leans forward, his lips pressing lightly to your ear as he whispers, “But I could show you more.”

His words send shivers up your spine, your limbs tingling with excitement. It’s been so long since you’ve been with a man that the thought of any sexual act entices you. But with this man? The things you would do to be with this man…

“You said we have time, right little one?” his chest vibrating against you as he hums curiously. You nod, biting your bottom lip lightly. “Why don’t we make use of that?”

He removes the hand placed on the desk, raising it to meet the line of your jaw. He raises his eyebrows as you stare at him, silently wondering if you’ll allow his advancements. You decide to accept, tilting your chin up to meet him. The prince moves slowly, eyes lowering to your magnificent mouth and then closing delicately as his soft, full lips press to yours. His head tilts, nose brushing against your own as he deepens the kiss. You reach up to cup his face, moving your mouth against his in earnest. His facial hair scrapes against the smooth skin of your cheeks as he continues, his wet tongue eventually trailing over your bottom lip. You part your lips for him, allowing his tongue to move between them. An intense pulse floods through your heat as your tongues collide, massaging against each other deliciously. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you feel the prince’s experienced mouth and tongue for the first time.

Oberyn moans into you, his brow furrowing in concentration as his tongue works itself inside your mouth. The hand on your face lowers to your hip, joining the other and gripping you tightly. You roll your hips toward him in response, allowing yourself to let go just a little bit more. A single hand falls to his chest, your fingers twiddling with the hem of his robes and dancing along his smooth skin.

He moves you over toward your desk before bending down to grab the back of your thighs. He hauls you up, placing you on the sturdy furniture and positioning his hips between your legs, his persistent mouth never leaving yours. His strength and forwardness get the better of you as your slick begins wetting your inner thighs. Your legs close ever so slightly, holding him against you. He continues lapping at your tongue passionately, his hand keeping your jaw open for him as he does so. He leans back, his tongue licking slowly over your lips before speaking.

“I want to taste you, pretty girl.” His voice is strained with desire as he continues, “See if your flavor is as delectable as you are.” He runs a finger over your lips, eyes focusing on the supple flesh before flicking up to meet your gaze.

At first, you’re hesitant, unknowing of how far you’re willing to go. You’ve just met this man, and you’ll be staying in his home for four weeks. What if something goes wrong… You know what? Fuck it. You’re on your own and you want to have fun. You’re an adult, and if things go sideways, you’ll handle it. Like an adult.

“I hope you like what you find,” you breathe out, beaming brightly.

He grins, lowering himself almost immediately. He keels on one knee before you, his large hands easily moving the thin fabric of your dress to the side. When his eyes meet your exposed heat, he moans lustfully. Leaning in, he places a single, gentle kiss onto your mound, and you gasp at the sensation. You rest your left leg up onto the chair sitting in front of your desk, offering him an even better view. But, just as he goes in to taste you, there’s a knock on the door.

Your name is called out by the servant who’s been accompanying you, causing the two of you to jump in surprise. Oberyn looks over his shoulder at the still closed door, your eyes finding the same spot. “Lord Doran is requesting your presence. He’d like you to be seated before his guests arrive.”

Oberyn turns his head back toward you, leaning in to kiss your thigh. He hums against you, the vibrations sending shock waves through your hips. He lifts himself from his lowered position, folding the fabric of your dress back to its intended place.

“I suppose we’ll have to finish this another time, little one.” His voice is soft and seductively low as he speaks, his hand cupping your face while his thumb swipes gently over the apple of your cheek.

The grip your teeth have on your lip nearly spills blood as frustration and arousal mix in your veins. You sigh out, yearning for some kind of release. The whine that comes from your lips is girlish and embarrassing, and it makes him chuckle above you.

“Don’t worry,” he mutters. His lips meet yours once again, kissing you twice before finishing with, “I’ll find you soon enough.”

The servant, Milena, leads you down the multitude of corridors within the palace. It’s almost frightening how large the building is and how many twists and turns seem to be around every corner. You make sure to take note of this, as this is where you’ll be staying for the next month. Eventually, though, you’re led to a large ballroom. Its entryway is enormous, truly magnificent. The walls of the opening are lined with blue and gold trim curving around delicate patterns. The inside walls resemble similar patterns and textures, its lofty ceiling upheld by solid, dark timbers. The far side of the ballroom is missing its wall, though, and is instead supported by large columns. The large spaces between them serve as entryways to the renowned water gardens. At the front of the glorious room is the head table, a seat set aside for each member of the royal family, and yourself, of course.

Your name echoes off of the stone walls as you’re called by the Lord, already strutting over to you. “My guests will be arriving soon, please, come sit.”

He shows you to the lengthy table, gesturing toward your seat. The wooden chair has carvings of the Martell House, the ruling family of Dorne’s, coat of arms: a golden spear piercing a red sun. You sit, admiring the craftsmanship as you place your elbows on its armrests.

“Adequate?” he asks, his tone full of amusement as he doubts you will say otherwise.

“Very.” You reply, smiling up at him.

“Perfect. Now, my visitors are very intrigued by you. They’re a neighboring house to ours, the Tyrells, in fact.”

You’d heard of House Tyrell before, but you’d never had the opportunity to meet them in person. The Lord and Lady have three sons and one daughter and were often accompanied by their grandmother, a Lady as well. You’d heard rumors of their daughter, Margaery, being quite infatuated with your intellect and prestige.

“Ah yes,” you sigh happily, “Lord Mace and Lady Alerie. Will their four children be accompanying them, as well as their grandmother, Lady Olenna?”

Lord Doran smirks at your knowledge of the Seven Kingdoms, nodding his head before speaking. “Indeed. I do hope you will share some of that marvelous intellect with them tonight, as well.”

“I’d be happy to,” you sing, proud to show yourself off.

“Fantastic. Our cooks our preparing supper, do you have a preference?”

On this, you think a bit. Curiosity gets the better of you as your mind wanders to Oberyn. If you’re going to dwell in this man’s company for so many weeks, why not get to know him a little bit?

“I’ll have whatever Prince Oberyn is having.”

Lord Doran tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at you, but chooses to ignore his questing thoughts. “I’ll notify our head chef. Please, remain seated while our visitors arrive.”

Sitting patiently, you twiddle your thumbs and hum excitedly. You’ve been in this exact situation enough times to anticipate how the evening will go. Your hosts will serve you a meal, and likely their guests as well, while holding pleasant conversation. Afterwards, many other, less important newcomers will flood the room as musicians begin to play, and more alcohol is served. That’s when the fun begins.

“Quite punctual, I see.” Prince Oberyn strolls into the room, eyes immediately on you.

“Of course,” you reply, watching him walk over to you. “I don’t want to be rude to my hosts by disobeying orders.”

Soon enough, he’s at your side, and you have to angle your neck upwards in order to meet his gaze. He reaches down, lightly holding your chin between his thumb and forefingers.

“I can only hope you’ll be as obedient for me.” He purrs, smirking when your lips part at his words.

Before you can reply, his eyes flitter up to someone further behind you. You turn as well, seeing the Lord of Sunspear’s Lady sit on the far end of the table, Lord Doran then joining her. Oberyn sighs, pulling out the chair next to you and sitting. You’re feeling rather high and mighty, you must admit. You’re sat between Lord Doran and Prince Oberyn, two very powerful men who are honoring you tonight, and for many more nights to come. Sitting at a royal table wasn’t new to you, but it was always a delight.

Once you’re all situated at the table, the Tyrell family is led in, but not before a smaller table is set up in front of you for them to sit at. Lord Mace and Lady Alerie enter, followed by Lady Olenna and their four children. Each smiling and greeting the royals sitting next to you. They take their seats at the table and Lord Doran welcomes them, introducing you in the process.

“It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you all.” You speak, smiling politely. Surprisingly, Lord Mace scoffs at this.

“All,” he emphasizes, rolling his eyes. “Quite disrespectful for you to not greet my family by name.”

“Oh, I mean no disrespect, Lord Mace.” You reply quickly, not wanting to anger anyone. “To you or Lady Alerie. I have great admiration for your family. The studies your son, Willas, involves himself in are very intriguing to me. Your younger sons, Garlan and Loras’ skill in battle intrigue me, as well. Your daughter, Margaery, is renowned for her kindness and grace, something I admire deeply. I also have great veneration for you, Lady Olenna. A woman as graceful and intelligent as yourself is one who truly inspires me.”

Oberyn’s hand reaches for your thigh, squeezing it tightly as you respond to Lord Tyrell. You turn slightly to look at him, wondering if you’ve done something wrong. A grin pulls on the edges of the prince’s lips, a sign to you that all is well, though one that makes you curious, nonetheless. You continue to speak to the family, addressing them each as you make eye contact and do your best to smile and gesture politely. Lord Mace seems rather satisfied with your response, his attitude quickly changing as he begins to enjoy himself. Amicable conversation begins to fill the room as you’re served the first plates of your dinner, banter now interchanging between each member of the two houses. You even get the chance to speak to the Tyrell’s youngest child, Margaery, who is an absolute delight and clearly admires you and your influence. Once you quite down, Oberyn glances at your meal, a questioning look forming on his face.

“Are you watching me, little one?” he questions, your eyes turning to meet his.

“I prefer to taste a man’s meal before he tastes me.” You purr, smirking as you suck a plump cherry tomato into your mouth. A low grumble releases from his chest, his lips pursing as he chews on his lip, his smirk still very evident.

Prince Oberyn’s choice cuisine is rather appetizing. There’s a fresh, green salad laid on your plate, full of tomatoes, cucumbers, avocados, kalamata olives, and more. This serves as the appetizer, of course. The main entree comes in two plates. One is cold to the touch as oysters sit amongst a sea of ice. The other steams below you, cooked asparagus and marinated chicken spreading to the plate’s brim. Finally, dessert comes, your favorite part. A bowl of berries and cherries is set before you. Another, smaller dish accompanies its side, this one filled with exotic nuts. As you’re enjoying the last addition to your meal, you realize something. The majority of the prince’s preferred foods include aphrodisiacs. Fitting.

Your graceful laughs soon fumble into girlish giggles as you consume your third glass of wine. When he began eating, Oberyn retracted his grip on your thigh, but it returns as you nibble on your delectable dessert. The prince leans over to you, and you ease in, allowing him to bring himself closer to your ear.

“Are you enjoying yourself, pretty girl?” he asks, his large hand sliding to your inner thigh, his touch tickling your sensitive skin.

“Hmm,” you hum giddily, “Yes.” You beam brightly at him as he pulls a few inches away, still close to your face.

“Did you appreciate the food?”

“Yes, I loved it!”

He tilts his head, smiling at your ever-present happiness. “Which was your favorite?”

“The raspberries.”

When you answer, he looks down. With his other hand, he reaches over, plucking a berry from your bowl and lifting it to your lips.

“Let me see you taste it.” He requests, his voice now a whisper. His mouth opens slightly as he focuses on your own. When you open for him, his brown eyes rise to meet yours.

You keep his gaze when you part your lips, allowing him to feed you the plump, pinkish fruit. He smiles, his beautifully straight teeth shining as you taste the sweet juices spilling onto your tongue, his finger just barely sliding past your lips. When he moves to take his finger away, you close your wine-stained lips around it, gently and briefly sucking on it.

The servants begin taking your food away as the two of you continue your flirtatious actions and inquisitive conversations. You bask under the prince’s attention, his eyes trained on you while you laugh at his continuous comments and questions. You’re each fully turned towards each other now, endlessly engaging in the other’s interests. You enjoy the prince’s outward attraction toward your beauty, of course, but you also adore his interest in you, your mind. It comforts you, pulls you in just that much more.

The Tyrell family stands as additional guests begin to arrive, pulling you away from Oberyn’s captivating eyes. The curtains begin lowering in order to the dim the room’s lighting, the day now turning to night on the other side of the large, stone columns. Candles are lit, and musicians begin to enter the room. Carts stroll in, too, offering appetizing sweets and fermented liquids. The people that come in marvel at you, speaking to you in multiple tongues about various topics, such as politics, philosophy, literature, culture, and so much more. You were quite well-versed in the topics and nearly fluent in each language, and easily held steady conversation with Lord Doran’s many guests. Not only were you knowledgeable, but you truly enjoyed talking about the subjects and brushing up on the many dialects the Seven Kingdoms have to offer. More and more visitors come over to greet you, and you decide its best that you stand from the table to start mingling with everyone out on the ballroom floor. Oberyn stays seated, watching you walk off into the crowd.

“Milena?” you ask, pulling the servant to the side after meeting more newcomers. “Where can I find a washroom?”

She points you in the direction of one down the hall, and you eagerly stride towards it. After, what, four goblets of wine now? You definitely need to empty your bladder. There are perfumed oils at the sink, which you apply after washing your hands. You’re able to freshen yourself up a bit, fixing your hair and makeup and making sure the fabric of your dress is laid appropriately. Once satisfied, you leave the room, intent on returning to the event. Suddenly, you squeal, startled by the unexpected presence of strong hands on your waist.

Oberyn presses himself up against you, holding you from behind as he nuzzles his face into the hair flowing over your neck and shoulder. “You are irresistible, pretty girl.”

You blush, smirking while moving to hold the prince’s arms as they wrap around you. You turn your head, sighing out at the feel of his body against yours. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your skin, his lips brushing over your neck lightly.

“You scared me.” You giggle anxiously. The prince moves against you, leading the two of you a few steps to the side, closer to the wall and away from the center of the hallway.

“Are you still frightened?” he asks lowly, one hand reaching up to brush your hair off your shoulder and to your back.

“No,” you mutter, breathless under his influence.

Once you respond, his hands begin to travel. They slowly roam the curves of your body, wrapping around you as his right hand moves to hold the left side of your hip, his left hand shifting up to cup the curve of your chest.

“Do you like what I’m doing?” his voice is hoarse, his lips now moving to press heated kisses against the delicate skin along your neck.

“Yes,” you gasp, his hand now fully massaging your tits while the other grips your hip. You lean into him, letting your head lay back on his shoulder. A small whimper leaves your lips in your hazy state when he rolls his hips against your backside.

“Mm… those little sounds…” he sighs out, “I’d love to hear them while spearing you on my cock.” You gasp at his words as they send a shiver down your spine. You’ve never had a man speak to you so obscenely.

The hallway leading to the ballroom is lined with small columns, one of which is behind you. Oberyn pulls you backwards, leading you to the small space between the stone pillars, allowing the two of you an ounce of privacy. He spins you around, pushing you back against the curved surface so you can face him.

“You’re incredible,” he mumbles, crowding your body in the secluded space as he holds your neck, mouthing hotly at your shoulder. “So shrewd for a woman of your age.”

You grin, loving his praise and his fervent tongue on your neck. The prince’s hips grind against yours, his length patently hard beneath his robes. His hands continue to roam your body, curving over your hips to grab at your ass. Your hands hold him against you, one grabbing his neck while the other tangles itself in his dark, feathery hair. When you tug on the brown locks, he groans, lifting his head from your neck. You press your soft lips to his, and he responds to you quickly, leaning into the kiss as you move against each other. His hand moves between the two of you, cupping your sex in his palm.

He moans at your soft gasp, the interaction heightening the rate of your pulse. He grabs your jaw, breaking the kiss to stare into your eyes. “Will you let me taste you, sweet thing?”

The nook the two of you are tucked into behind the sandstone pillar offers a bit of seclusion, though not as much as an enclosed room would. There isn’t a single soul walking the halls, though the thrill that someone could at any moment excites you beyond reason.

“Yes,” you reply, panting from the euphoria the prince’s sensual actions provoke.

Oberyn chuckles lightly, clearly delighted in your response as he rapidly shifts to kneel before you once again. His tan hands run up your exposed thighs, his nimble fingers shifting the front covering of your dress aside to reveal your smooth mound. His smirk is evident, even from this angle. His left shoulder lowers, and before you can question him, he grabs the back of your knee, maneuvering you so that your one leg is resting over his shoulder and draping down his back. The parting of your legs gives him much better access to your wanting heat, already slick from anticipation.

“Oh…” he moans out, the palm of his hand running over the smooth skin of your sex and lower stomach. “So pretty.”

He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your mound, just as he did hours before in the privacy of your chambers. His warm, wet tongue then slides up through your folds, slowly, delicately, tasting the juices he’s been craving since laying eyes on you. You gasp out, the sensation beautifully stimulating against your sensitive skin. You reach out to him, grabbing his hair as you steady yourself above him. He smiles against you, happy at your responsiveness and grabbing hold of your hips. The prince’s curved nose rubs against your clit deliciously as he moves his tongue against you, into you, sloppily licking and sucking your folds as his tongue roams your inner channel. The lusty noises his mouth makes while devouring your dripping core are absolutely obscene as they echo off the surrounding walls. His eyes remain closed in contentment and concentration as he moves his hot mouth against you. You watch him intently, his head rocking rhythmically as he tastes you. His tongue slides out of your sex, traveling up to your tiny pleasure point. The wet muscle dances around your clit before rolling over it, applying pressure and sucking it into his mouth.

“Oh –” you sigh out, throwing your head back, “Oberyn…”

He hums at the sound of you moaning his name, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your hips. The pad of his middle finger barely touches the lining of your labia, gently rubbing back and forth before sinking inside you.

“Yes!” you whine, rolling your hip against his face.

His digit is thick as it enters you, almost immediately curling and applying constant pressure to that fleshy spot inside you that makes you want to scream. His ability to find it so quickly makes your head spin, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. He doesn’t even move his finger in and out, he just keeps it there, forcefully pulsating it against your g-spot, wiggling it in a motion that coaxes you forward.

“More,” you whimper, “Please.”

His finger retracts before lining up again, now with his pointer finger alongside it. He shoves them into you, now at a hurried pace as they continue to curl against that beautiful spot every now and then. He keeps his tongue on your clit, flicking it quickly with the tip of his tongue before wrapping his lips around it. His mouth suckles on your pleasure center while he pumps his fingers in and out of your aching pussy. His moans match yours, and you love that he’s enjoying this so thoroughly, possibly even more than you. Your pleasure continues to climb, washing over you until it peaks. His hot, wet mouth feels amazing against your dripping core, and you tighten your leg on his back to push him further against you.

“O-Oberyn,” you stutter, “I’m, I’m gonna –”

“On my face, little one.” He breaths out, panting below you. “Cum on my face.” His lips return to your clit, sucking harshly.

His words push you over the edge, and you bite your lip, unwillingly to whine too loudly in the hallowed halls. His tongue picks up its pace, sucking ruthlessly on your clit while his fingers resume their original motions, stalling inside you and only pulsating pressure against your g-spot, flawlessly riding you through your orgasm. His other hand grips your hip tightly, holding you against him as your high comes crashing into you, forcefully filling your veins with pure ecstasy as you cum against the prince’s face. He continues to mouth at you, his fingers and tongue persistent in their application of pressure on your most responsive areas until you’re shaking above him.

He slows down as your breathing calms, easily reading your body’s signals. He pulls his fingers out of you, his tongue now licking languidly at your folds. He brings his cum-soaked fingers to your fleshy lips, parting you with his pointer and middle finger. He angles his head, moving his mouth directly under your wet channel. With your folds parted, he licks into you, moaning at the taste of your creamy pussy. He slurps as he drinks from you, swallowing the last remnants of the sweet liquid your orgasm brought you. Your mouth parts at the sight, the aftershocks of your orgasm tingling through you as he continues to savor your taste before leaning back and bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking the liquid off his fingers as his brown eyes stare up at you. The sight of the prince on his knees before you, absolutely savoring you and your juices, is one of the most erotic things you’ve ever seen. It makes you breathless, delirious as you watch him.

The hand on your waist moves underneath your leg, and once he’s licked his fingers clean, he turns his head to kiss along your inner thigh, licking the juices off the sensitive skin there, too. Lust-filled brown eyes meet yours once more while he continues to mouth at your leg as it rests on his broad shoulder. You smile down at him, his mouth and chin now wet with your slick. You gasp out when he sinks his teeth into your flesh, moaning slightly as you try to catch your breath.

“Would you like to share my bed tonight, little one?” Oberyn inquires, his voice husky as his dark eyes stare up at you from between your legs. “Help me to find my release as well?”

“I would love to.” You smirk devilishly, biting your lip as he places one last open-mouthed kiss to your thigh before rising.

To Die, To Sleep

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Wordcount: +1.8K  Request: Din has a nightmare about losing you. You comfort him. Warnings: Violence. Rough Sex in a lil space. 

It’s all wrong. 

There are three suns in the burnt sky - purple clouds that drift and sag into the horizon. City streets cluttered with trash and fragments of ships - broken, shattered droid parts. The road is obsidian, slick with oil. 

The galaxy weeps platinum rain - shiny and silver and warm as it runs down his face.

His face.

Keep reading

Master List...

(** = Smut, * = Smutish)

Din Djarin

Series:

Written in the Stars

Summary: Peli Motto rescued you from becoming a Hutt pleasure slave. In return, you've been using some unusual skills of yours to keep her clients in check...but you were not prepared for a Mandalorian and his small green child to appear and change your life completely.

CHAPTER 01: THE VISITOR

CHAPTER 02: THE TRUTH

CHAPTER 03: THE SUPPLY RUN

CHAPTER 04: THE MERCENARIES

CHAPTER 05: THE PLAN

CHAPTER 06: THE DROPPER

CHAPTER 07: THE BUNK **

CHAPTER 08: THE NEW PLAN

CHAPTER 09: THE WAIT

CHAPTER 10: THE WAY FORWARD

CHAPTER 11: THE RISK *

CHAPTER 12: THE EXPERIMENT **

CHAPTER 13: THE CALM *

CHAPTER 14: THE MAGISTRATE

CHAPTER 15: THE BETRAYAL

CHAPTER 16: THE MOFF

CHAPTER 17: THE PAST

CHAPTER 18: THE BATTLE

CHAPTER 19: THE SEWER

CHAPTER 20: THE RIDUUROK

CHAPTER 21: THE ESCAPE

CHAPTER 22: THE AFTERMATH

Drabble(s):

SIZE KINK *

Thot(s):

NEEDY DIN **

OVER STIMULATING DIN **

DIN INDULGES IN SELF PLEASURE **

DOM!DIN & DIRTY TALK **

Pero Tovar

Series:

Lessons in Pleasure

Summary: A certain grumpy Spaniard teaches you the ways of pleasure...

THE LESSON **

THE LESSON - HOW TO PLEASE A MAN WITH YOUR MOUTH **

THE LESSON - HOW TO RECEIVE PLEASURE FROM A MAN’S MOUTH **

THE LESSON - HOW TO ADMIT YOU'VE FALLEN IN LOVE *

THE LESSON - HOW TO MAKE LOVE **

THE LESSON - SENSORY DEPRIVATION **

THE LESSON - THE DAGGER **

One shot(s):

SEASONS

Drabble(s):

SIZE KINK *

PERO TO THE RESCUE *

Max Phillips

Series:

Heating Up

Summary: Just a little story following how your relationship with a certain vampire progresses...

WARM

WARMER

WARMEST **

COLDER **

Thot(s):

HAIR PULLING & BODY KISSES *

MAX LIKES RED & BLACK *

MAX USES HIS MOUTH *

NIPPLE PLAY *

Drabble(s):

SIZE KINK *

Marcus Pike

Series:

Every Story is a Love Story

Summary: You never expected the story of how you met the man of your dreams to start with, 'He walked in while I was ass up on his desk moaning about how handsome he was...'

CHAPTER 01: HE WAS STARING AT MY ASS?

CHAPTER 02: YOU ASKED ABOUT ME?

CHAPTER 03: YOU LIKED THAT, GOOD TO KNOW

CHAPTER 04: DID YOU JUST KISS MY DIMPLE?

CHAPTER 05: PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

CHAPTER 06: WE DON’T HAVE TIME, BABY

CHAPTER 07: I’M NOT FINISHED

CHAPTER 08: LIKE ALL THE TRUE MONSTERS DO

CHAPTER 09: INVITE HIM TO AMATEUR NIGHT

CHAPTER 10: IT’S CALLED THE RED VIPER

CHAPTER 11: YOU’RE KILLING ME, BABY *

CHAPTER 12: THINK YOU CAN DO IT AGAIN? **

CHAPTER 13: AS LONG AS YOU’RE MINE

CHAPTER 14: I’M STILL BETTER THAN HIM AT IT **

CHAPTER 15: SO I’M THE BEST?

CHAPTER 16: MARCUS, WHAT’S WRONG? **

Series:

Comfort

Summary: Marcus helps you learn to love and be loved after your past made you terrified of men and intimacy...

COMFORT

COMFORTING

Drabble(s):

SIZE KINK *

FIRST TIME FINGERING **

Francisco (Catfish) Morales

Series:

Summary: Just a story following your relationship with Frankie and the other Triple Frontier boys...

MY SHOT

THE STORY OF TONIGHT **

WHAT COMES NEXT?

NON-STOP **

TEN DUEL COMMANDMENTS

Drabble(s):

SIZE KINK *

Works in Progress...

THE LESSON - SQUIRTING (PERO TOVAR) **

THE LESSON - EXPERIMENTING WITH POSITIONS (PERO TOVAR) **

THE LESSON - THIGH RIDING (PERO TOVAR) **

TRUST (DIN DJARIN)

TAKE A BREAK (FRANKIE MORALES)

THE LESSON - BREEDING KINK (PERO TOVAR) **

WRITTEN IN THE STARS - CHAPTER 23 (DIN DJARIN) **

COMFORTABLE (MARCUS PIKE)

PROTECTIVE (PERO TOVAR)

[GIFs not mine, all credit goes to original creators]

Seeking Serenity

summary: Mando, overcome with anxiety in the aftermath of a risky event, needs you to bring him back to reality—and asks for much more along the way.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader

warnings: anxiety attack, angst, hurt/comfort, references to death/violence, fluff

rating: T

word count: 2.953k

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

Nothing has frightened you more than the sound of a Mandalorian’s voice breaking.

Keep reading

*plays the jedi order’s next top model instead of fighting vader*

ok, look, can we parse the implications of this (legends) canon moment from the revenge of the sith novel?? first, anakin knows obi-wan so well that he can basically sense his emotions in the Force from a whole separate starfighter, and then his reaction is to Act Like A Brat in order to encourage obi-wan to do a little recreational scolding as stress-relief. obi-wan says anakin’s name like every sentence, first as a reprimand and then basically as an endearment. anakin is satisfied by being chastised, only adding support to my thesis that anakin has an ‘obi-wan’s disappointed voice’ kink. bless you, stover 😂

The Bodyguard and the Betrothed - Chapter 1

Din Djarin x afab!reader

Rating: E | 3.5k words

You've always read that being a Princess has its perks, but you think whoever wrote that had to have been mistaken. As the third, unwanted daughter of the royal family of Hapuntep, your life isn't what you imagined when you were younger, still starry-eyed and full of hope.

So when a mysterious stranger shows up and rips you away from the only life you've ever known, you can't help but wonder - is your mundane life about to get better? Or... is it about to get a whole lot worse?

Tags/Warnings: Angst, Bodyguard!Din, some Violence (later on), Strangers to Lovers, and more tags to come!

AN: I feel most comfortable doing one-shots, so trying to step out of my comfort zone with a Bodyguard!Din romance. I have the general plotline written out, excited to share this story with you. (But fear not, there will be plenty of rated E action down the road!) Guessing about 10 chapters in total. ❤️

[Also posted to A03 here!]

Chapter 1 - The Stranger

As the long hours in near-isolation passed, you think back and realize that honestly, you should have seen this coming. In the past few months, you had noticed the whispers around the castle, the furtive looks, but you never dreamed they were directed at you.

Being part of the royal family of Hapuntep, there were certain… expected obligations. Your eldest sister had been betrothed since birth to a handsome prince from Indupar, a monarchical planet in the Ado Sector. Your second sister had married for love, a Lord from the mid rim planet of Ec Pand. And your younger brother - he was to inherit the kingdom, as the only son. He would be married as well, someday, but that was still many years away.

And you - well, you had not married. You had always been treated a little differently than your sisters, the forgotten middle child that was never wanted.

When you were younger, you thought perhaps it was the age gap. Your sisters were 8 and 10 when you were born and at their age, there was nothing interesting about a crying baby. You had assumed it was just that gap that had been stretched too far to cross, but as you got older, you started noticing some interactions that had escaped your younger mind.

They way they treated you, like you were a ghost. And then more specifically, the tone of voice they used when they actually did speak to you. The sneering lips and wrinkled noses as they implied that your parents didn’t want you.

“Daddy didn’t ask for another daughter. He wanted a son.” Your eldest sister had hissed in your ear, late at night, “But it was too late. You showed up, anyway.”

As you grew older, you then thought maybe it was because of your looks. You favored your mother, the same shade of hair and complexion. You thanked the Maker for that more than once when you were alone - otherwise you might have gotten your Father’s weak constitution or his small, watery eyes. It was a wonder that your mother had ever agreed to marry him, and you thought about that often as well.

Your sisters looked like copies of your father, down to the exact texture of hair. Your eyes were different though, the only one in the family with that shade, most likely a recessive gene. Was it jealousy, perhaps, sowed the seed that has lasted for years?

The rumors and theories changed over time, but the ending was always the same. A surprised, unwanted pregnancy. The black sheep. When your mother passed when you were 6 from a bout of Borotavi syndrome, the gap between you and your family only grew further apart, turning into a chasm.

Your father remarried soon after, a beautiful widower whose husband has also recently passed, and she became your stepmother. Your resemblance to your own mother was not lost on her, and there was no affection gained, despite your efforts.

A few years later, they had a child together, your brother Nikolas - the one saving grace in this wretched family. He inherited the best things from both, and somehow the two of you became close. He was your only real friend, the only person you could trust.

Overall, you made the best you could with your lot. You stayed tucked away, and out of sight. Afternoons were filled with quiet activities, reading, studying, academics, most of the time in your room. When you could, you snuck outside, sweet-talking the guards into teaching you fitness routines and self-defense lessons.

Nobody seemed to love you, besides your brother, but nothing was expected from you either. You were perfectly happy living a life of unbothered mediocrity. But all of that changed when he showed up. The day your life changed, forever.

——-

The day had started perfectly normal, not one that would have stuck out in your mind as anything special. You were up with the sun, the light creeping in through the blinds as you hurry into the adjoined refresher to wash up for the day. Even though it was early, you cherished the quiet moments in the castle before everyone started moving around. Yes, it’s true that you were left alone for the most part, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t hear everything going on throughout the day.

Sinking into the basin, you let the water wash over you, enjoying the warmth while it lasted. After you scrubbed yourself clean, you grab the bound book, dog-eared and battered, from the small side-table and find your place from where you left off yesterday.

You stay submerged as long as you can, lost in another world, until your skin prickles from the cold, toes puckered from the water.

Stepping out, you dress yourself in a plain tunic and trousers before heading back to your room. This time you grab another book, a heavy, leather-bound thing from the large table near your small, but efficient, fireplace. This one was borrowed, and you had to make sure you returned it this morning before it was missed. You weren’t forbidden from leaving your room, but you had learned a long time ago it was better to just stay out of sight when possible.

Tucking the book into your bag, you open your door, just enough to peek an eye outside. When the coast is clear, you sneak down the hallway, and into the library.

The large library is quiet, and you have no problem slipping the missing novel back onto the shelf, and picking out another from the opposite side of the room. It goes back into your bag, and then you’re off in search of some sustenance.

Winding your way down the stone steps, you make your way to the kitchen. The room is busy like usual, but there’s always a little cheese, meat, and bread tucked to the side for you. It’s been years since you attended a formal lunch, you always made excuses when you could, and no one ever requested your presence.

One of the cooks, an older man that you had always gotten along with, bumps you with his hip as you’re grabbing the small stash they saved for you. He gives you a conspiratorial wink, and shows you the cloth he has in his hand, containing half a dozen small sweet rolls. He sneaks them next to your other food, giving your shoulder a friendly pat as he moves past you.

You give him a smile and a genuine thanks, taking the cloth-wrapped bundle and tucking it into the pocket of your bag. One or two were for you, of course, you had a major sweet tooth, but the rest were for your brother, if you happened to see him today.

But you didn’t run into him, even though you took the long, winding path back to your room. Part of you wondered if they were keeping him busy on purpose, you had barely seen him lately. He did have lessons, but surely they’d give him a break sometime. You made a note to dedicate tomorrow to tracking him down.

--

Back in your room, the rest of the afternoon had been spent on small hobbies, and then you decided to take a nice, long nap. There’s a low, droning sound as you doze, and your lids crack open as the sound registers in your sleepy brain.

It was the sound of a ship approaching the hangar. Ships in this area were unusual, most of the time they used the public landing pad a few miles down the road, past the south end of town. The one near the castle was private, for the royal family and guests, only. And you hadn’t heard anything about any guests.

You can see the ship touching down from your balcony door, it looked rough, still flying, but rough. Unlatching the lock, you creep outside to watch, the loud droning dying out as the ship touches down and turns off.

A ramp extends from the side, and a figure steps out, the sun glinting off some sort of armor they are wearing. It’s shiny, a chrome-like metal that you can see even from your current distance. They converse with one of the mechanics that approaches him, and after a few minutes as he points an arm towards town. The figure nods, and starts moving out of the hanger and towards that direction.

Achingly curious, you sneak back inside, latching the door behind you. You root around in the chest by your bed, throwing on a brown, threadbare cloak, pulling the hood up over your head.

Sneaking out should in theory be easy, there was hardly anyone in the back staircase, and it lets you out into the side of the garden. Luck seems to be on your side today, and you make it out and through the garden without incident.

By the time you make it down the long pathway to the city, the figure is quite a bit ahead of you. Fortunately for you, they stick out in the shiny metal, even the afternoon shadows creeping in can’t seem to touch it.

They are deep in the market district when you catch up, currently perusing a seemingly vacant stall, the shelves stacked with general goods. The stall is tucked towards the edge of the district, away from most of the foot traffic. The owner of the stall isn’t even visible, but you’re sure they’re behind the cloth canopy draping across the back half.

You stop short, using the shadows of a neighboring stall to watch as they work their way across the countertop, making small, neat stacks of rations and dried meats.

Their movements are subtle, hands ghosting over piles of items in search of whatever supply list they had in their head. You observe quietly for a while, and jump when you hear an almost-robotic sounding voice break the relative quiet.

“Can I help you?” Their tone is flat, the unexpected sound coming from the person in armor in front of you.

You twist your head, looking up and down the aisle to see who he’s talking to. The stall owner has still not stepped out, most likely conversing with their neighbor.

“You, girl. In the shadows.” He clarifies - you assume they’re male from the deep pitch of their voice.

Freezing, you watch as his head turns giving you a good look at his profile. He makes a sound, almost like a sigh, “I can see you. Come on out.”

Oh. He’s talking to you.

You step out of the shadows, walking slowly over towards the booth. He watches you quietly, waiting until you’re standing a few feet away.

You had read about Mandalorians a bit, in some of the older books in the library. There wasn’t a lot about them, from what you understood a lot of their history was passed down orally. But you had never thought you’d get to see one, much less meet one for that matter.

Suddenly aware of your manners, from years of etiquette shoved down your throat, you flush slightly at your own rudeness.

“I apologize,” your nose wrinkles, “It was rude of me to stare, I’ve just never seen a Mandalorian before.”

His head turns back to look at the stall, his voice quiet as he answers, “We do not come to the Mid Rim very often.”

It’s not an outright dismissal, so you tentatively take a step closer. You try to glance subtly at him, taking in what you can as he continues to browse.

He’s tall, a little more than a head taller than you with the armor, and broad-shouldered. His armor gleams, painstakingly polished, and his long cloak, tattered at the ends, catches the slight breeze in the air.

“What, uh,” You offer, when it becomes clear he’s not going to ask you anything. “What brings you to town?”

His hands pick up another small puck of rations, adding it to the stack in his hands. He seems to think about this for a moment, before replying, “Work.”

“Oh.” You hip leans against the edge of the stall, and you pivot to look at him, “Looking for work?”

He shakes his head as he clarifies, “I am here for my employer.”

You want to ask what he does, why he would be here. Your planet is small, and not nearly as technically-advanced as the most of the planets in the Middle and Inner Rim. The was a scattering of settlements across the land, this city being the biggest. But the entire population of the planet would be dwarfed in a city such as Coruscant, or so you’ve been told.

“You’re not a bandit, are you?” You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow, “Or a gangster?”

He probably wasn’t, but over the past few years, the overall crime had risen drastically. Small crime organizations had begun to set up small camps around the bigger-sized cities in the area, harassing the citizens for money in exchange for protection. You knew this because you had heard your Father talk about it, about the pressure of keeping the peace when cities were getting attacked at night.

His head swivels slowly to look at you, his annoyance almost palpable. You flash a smile, and he seems to realize you were teasing him, because he makes noise that sounds like a huff.

“No, I am not.”

“If you’re not a bandit, then what do you do?”

“Are you always so talkative?” His voice is short, and you pause.

“Well, no-” you hesitate, voice immediately apologetic. Your brow crinkles as you look at him, confidence rapidly waning, “I, uh- don’t get to talk that much, actually. Not really supposed to.”

His helmet fully turns to the side now, tilting down towards you. It’s unnerving, looking into the dark tint of a visor, not being able to see a face for context.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, “Not supposed to?”

You shrug, one shoulder lifting and then dropping casually. It would be stupid to tell this man who you are, and you already have been a little too open with this stranger.

A woman steps up to the stall, from a low pile of pillows in the back, saving you from answering. She is old and stooped, hair white with age and long, shining like starlight.

“Sorry dearie,” her voice is birdlike, eyes kind beneath wrinkles of wisdom. “I didn’t realize anyone was here.”

You smile at her, asking her a few questions about how her day was going, as the Mandalorian stacked his purchases in front of her. She tallies them up carefully, whispering figures under her breath as she does.

Before she can give a price, you are rooting around in your bag, pulling out a fistful of credits which you pass to her. You’re not sure how much his rations cost, but you figure you’re probably pretty close.

“They’re on me, for your patience.” Your head tilts as you eye the Mandalorian, your practiced tone almost hiding the embarrassment in your voice. Almost.

“No,” The woman’s hand closes around yours, trying to push some of the credits back, “No, it’s too much-”

“Please.” You turn towards her, smiling gracefully. “Please, for taking up so much of your time today.”

Her hand relaxes, drawing the stack quickly into her pouch. The woman’s eyes meet yours, shining in the afternoon light, “Thank you milady, your kindness won’t be forgotten.”

The Mandalorian is silent next to you, his hands the only thing that moves as he tucks the purchases into the bag slung across his chest. He moves then, giving the woman a short bow of his helmet as he steps out into the walkway again.

“Thank you.” He offers quietly.

He seems to hesitate for a moment, and you’re getting ready to just walk away when he asks, “My ship requires a few mechanical parts, can you point me towards a stall that carries that?”

It’s as close to an apology as you’re going to get, but you take it. You smile with a nod, gesturing with your hand for him to follow you.

--

You don’t learn much more about him as he browses another stall, just that he’s from the Outer Rim, he’s had his ship for a long time, and that he really is there for work, but won’t tell you what.

And that he’s only here until tomorrow, which for some reason makes your stomach twist in disappointment.

The two of you found a stall that had the things he wanted, old pre-empire engine parts for ships. He’s been making a small stack of wiring and mechanical pieces. You have no idea what any of it is, but you still try to help him look, plucking out wires and pieces in the shape he describes.

He finally seems done, a neat pile of parts gathered in front of him as the owner of the stall steps forward.

Before you can offer he’s shaking his head, “I got this, you can’t pay for everything.”

You shrug, hands dropping from your bag. He’s gathering his things and you’re just standing there, debating your next move.

He’s not grumpy, but he’s guarded. But he hasn’t chased you away or dismissed you yet, and although he seems to edit his answers, he does give them.

“Can I walk with you back to your ship?” You summon your courage to ask, “You’re at the northern hanger right?”

You phrase this as a guess - as if you didn’t know, as if you hadn’t been watching him land.

He’s clearly done with shopping, but you’re not ready to leave him yet. The only other person that talks to you regularly is your brother, and he’s been too busy to spend much time with you these past few days. Even his edited answers are a welcome break in your stir-crazy mind.

“Are you sure that’s a smart question?” He counters, but he pauses, turning to face you. “Isn’t it dangerous, walking that far out of the city this late?”

“No, the hangar is close to where I live. And aren’t Mandalorians supposed to be honorable?”

“Some are.” He allows.

“Are you?”

The two of you look at each other for a long moment, before he slowly nods his head.

You huff, “Then how can I be in danger if I’m walking with the most dangerous man in the city?”

He makes a noise, a low hum that almost sounds amused. But then he nods, a short jerk of his head, “Fine. Let’s go.”

You let him lead the way, weaving through the mostly-empty streets as the sun sets. The stalls are closing up, only the taverns and inns staying open at night. By now, your questions are used up, and you can’t think of anything else to ask.

He actually asked you a few questions as well while the two of you walked. If you really live near the hanger, what you were doing in town, but you answered just as vaguely as he did.

The walk, which usually seemed to take forever, seems to be done in just mere minutes. You follow him in, walking over to the large ship near the front.

You hadn’t been on a ship before, and your eyes swept over it greedily for a moment before you realize the Mandalorian was looking at you.

Well, this was it.

“It was nice meeting you, Mandalorian.” You smile, your hands twisting behind you back as you rock on your heels.

“You as well.” His head dips, just a fraction, “Hurry home now, little bird.”

Your heart pounds, eyes trying to soak up as much as you can before you’re turning, feet taking you back towards the pathway. You tell yourself not to look back, but before you step out of the hanger you risk one last glance.

He’s still standing there, gloved hand resting on the smooth side of his ship, body still as stone.

Your head snaps forward again, a flush staining your cheeks as you step back onto the worn dirt road. Looking straight ahead, you don’t look back again as you make your way towards the side of the castle.

When you get back to your room, you change into your sleeping clothes before sliding under the covers. Pulling your favorite book from the stack by your bed, you settle in to read the current chapter.

Despite your efforts, the words twist and blur in front of you, eyes unfocusing as you think about the stranger, the Mandalorian, that was for some reason in your city.

The smooth baritone of his voice, his easy grace when moving. How dangerous he probably was, but how kind he had been to you. He was interesting, the most interesting person you had ever met, even though he had barely told you anything about him.

A long while had passed before you noticed you were looking at the top of the page, still stuck on the first line. Shaking your head, you force those other thoughts out of your mind.

You’re never going to see him again, anyways. Better not to dwell on it.

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References: Hapuntep - From Star Wars Legends, was a planet ruled by a monarchy Indupar - a Mid Rim world in Ado sector. It was the capital of the Induparan Crown Worlds. It was ruled by the Induparan Monarchy and House Indupar. Ec Pand - was a Mid Rim world that was located within the Ado sector, and was one of the Induparan Crown Worlds. Borotavi Syndrome - was a fatal disease caused by eating a deadly shellfish

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