Chapter 18 of "Unsteady" is posted! I thought I'd never get through it!! Hope you all like it! Enjoy the AI image of Jorge (portrayed by Alan Ritchson), John, and Six!
Summary: You and John go to the zoo and then get a little handsy behind the bathrooms like a pair of teenagers
Shore Leave Masterlist
The zoo trip doesn't go exactly how you wanted it to go, but John seems to be having fun, and that's all that matters to you. You're still heated about the earlier interaction with the Major, but you do your best to shove your upsets down. It wouldn't do anyone any good if John picked up on how upset you still were about it.
Instead, you focused on just how excited John seemed to be. Well, you assumed he was, anyway. The big man had excellent control over his facial features, so you really had to watch his face and eyes for hints. The two of you have visited almost every exhibit, and John had even bought you an overpriced lemonade that came with a souvenir cup in the shape of a giraffe.
He holds your hand as the two of you lope up a tall hill that will eventually bring you to the new exhibit, and you ramble about everything and nothing to fill the silence. Johnson would be proud of him, he thinks.
John watches you out of the corner of his eye, and his lips quirk up in a soft smile as he listens to you talk. He's never been one for conversation, so he doesn't mind listening to you go on and on about the animals the two of you have seen so far. He cuts in at the appropriate times, sharing his own soft opinions and matching your small smile when the two of you watch a young girl beg her mother for an ice cream.
“Do you want one?” John asks when he catches your eyes lingering on the flavors. His thumb strokes over the back of your knuckles. He wants to buy you things, make sure you want for nothing. You've done so much for him already.
“Hmm. Yeah, why not? We can share if you want.” You offer. You've already had the lemonade, and too many sweet things make your stomach hurt. “What flavor are you thinking?”
John rakes his eyes over the list, and his blue eyes linger on something called rocky road. He murmured his choice, and once he had your agreement, the super soldier loped over to stand in line. You can't help the snort that leaves you when he comes back. The ice cream cone looks comically small in his huge hand, and he quickly hands it off to you once he is close enough, then frowns down at his sticky hand.
However, he is soon distracted when he catches you licking up the melted ice cream, your tongue scooping up the sweet liquid as you make a soft sound of appreciation at the taste. John swallows harshly, and his blue eyes go dark and stormy in arousal the longer he watches you.
His palms begin to sweat, and his mind begins to wander in a direction not appropriate for such a setting. What would your tongue feel like on him? Your lips in places other than his own? John knows how soft your hands are; he'd held them long enough to start to memorize each knuckle and scar on your flesh. His body buzzes in arousal, and he knows you see it in his eyes when you look up and catch them. The spartan watches as a blush blooms across your face, and you laugh nervously at his gaze.
But you don’t look away from him. Instead, you swipe your tongue over the sweet treat again, eyes half lidded as you watch John suck in a sharp breath and shift on his booted feet. You hear him say your name softly, almost like a curse, and then you are being drug away from the crowd and to a shaded corner. John glances around and then takes your ice cream, tosses it in the nearest bin, and then he is on you, lips pressed against your own and tongue sweeping across your lips to taste the sweet treat.
You make a sound of delight in the back of your throat, eyes shuttering as you open up under his assault. John kisses you like it's going out of style, big hands cupping your cheeks and angling you up just the way he wants. Your hands find his shoulders, and you hang on for dear life, chest heaving from the display of public affection. You hadn’t thought that the big man would go this far with so many people around.
As quickly as he had swept you away, John released you, realizing that the Zoo, of all places, wasn’t the best place for this sort of thing. You step back after a lingering kiss to his cheek and grin brightly up at him. His face flushes to the tips of his ears, suddenly embarrassed about his lack of decorum.
“I apologize. I shouldn’t have done that,” John murmured, but you are quick to snort and shake your head and take his big hands in your own.
“Don’t say sorry. I like it when you do things like that,” you say easily, and John deflates at your uncaring attitude. You smirk, lips teasing and cock your head to the side, “But you do owe me another ice cream later.”
John laughs, the sound deep and husky. You can't help the way your thighs rub together at the attractive sound. You shove the need to end the trip early away and tug his hand, tilting your head in the direction of the new exhibit. “Ready?”
“Let’s go,” John intones, and the two of you continue up the trail. Despite being surrounded by animals of all shapes and sizes, the chief only has eyes for you, that blue gaze burning with something he didn’t know the name of. He understands that it might seem a little odd to be so attached, so longing for a civilian woman that he met just the other night, but John couldn’t bring himself to care. Lasky had ordered him to relax, and you were the best thing for that.
The new exhibit is crowded, but thanks to John’s height and bulk, the two of you are able to get through the crowds pretty easily, even if he may have stepped on a couple of toes along the way. You press yourself close to the edge of the railing, squinting your eyes to try and see the animal hidden within. John, with his improved vision, spots it far before you can. He presses close to your back, bending so that he can lower himself closer to your height, his chin grazing the top of your head. He points into the habitat, and you follow it.
“Can you see them?” John asks softly, his tone a low rumble that has a shiver wracking down your spine. You try your best to focus on the pair of Siberian tigers slinking through the tall grass inside the enclosure, but having John pressed so close is very distracting. But once you are able to focus on the big cats, you are reminded heavily of the man behind you.
Major Baroque had told you John was a Spartan, a man created for the purpose of war - a predator among the other men and women of the UNSC. All lean muscle and heightened instincts, honed from decades of fighting the Covenant. John was a dangerous man, just like the tigers stalking the grass below you.
“They’re beautiful,” you murmur and press yourself that much closer to John. He obliges by wrapping an arm around your waist, a big hand splayed across your side as he holds you close. You hear him hum his agreement, but when you look at him, you find John isn’t looking at the tigers but at you.
His eyes burn with a fire that matches the one in your own. A silent agreement passes between the two of you, and John is leading you through the crowds the next moment, arm tight around your waist to keep you close. He scans his surroundings for the best place to hide away from prying eyes within milliseconds, pulling you behind the building for the bathrooms and pressing you up against the wall.
You gasp at being lifted, but get with the program quickly and wrap your legs around his thick waist, anchoring yourself by slinging an arm around his broad shoulders. John leans down, and you meet him halfway, lips pressing against his own in a heated kiss. Your free hand cups his jaw, holding his face as you drop your mouth and lick across the seam of his lips.
The groan John makes is borderline animalistic, and he presses into you, wanting to feel that teasing heat between your thighs. His cock aches in his jeans, and John can’t help but grind into you with a low breath through his nose.
You give just as good, nails biting into his muscled shoulders and holding him as close as you can, hips jerking and gyrating against the thick length you can feel hidden behind his slacks. You feel tiny, doll-like in his arms, but you find that you like the vulnerable feeling that this beast of a man brings about in you. Especially when you know that John would never let anything happen to you, not when he was around.
You suck in grateful lungfuls of oxygen when John breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t stop there. He hefts you higher, his lips finding the column of your throat and laving the sensitive flesh with sweet kisses and kitten nips with sharp teeth. You cling to John, lip trapped between your teeth as you bite back the low groans and sounds of pleasure. You would hate to have someone catch you like this.
John’s free hand slides under the loose shift you wear, rough fingertips crawling along your skin until he reaches your bra. He cups your breast, tugging at the cup until he feels the hardened peak of a nipple graze across the pad of his thumb. John can’t wrap his head around how soft you are, all gentle curves and delicate skin. The Master Chief feels like a giant compared to your smaller stature, but he likes how he can handle you so easily.
John wanted to hear every little breathy moan and suppressed sigh that you made, wanted to bark an order for you to stop holding back, but the zoo wasn’t the best place to keep going at this pace. He begins to slow to a stop, trailing up kisses to your lips, where he lingers a moment longer before he reluctantly pulls away.
“I know we haven’t seen all the animals yet, but can we go now?” You ask, and you don’t try to hide the desperate whine in your voice. You want to keep touching, want to keep being touched.
John can’t help but huff a laugh, but he is setting you down and fixing your shift so that it falls naturally once more. Once more, he can’t help but think that Avery would be proud of him.
Fic Summary: Silver Team removes their hormone suppressant pellets. Dr. Keyes assigns each of them mandatory therapy sessions. Big Spartans have Big Feelings. (Slow burn.)
okay but have we talked about height difference with john? in comparison really everyone is smaller than him even without the suit, but with the suit? holy moly, my size kink goes through the roof... also, why the fuck are his hands so huge arghhhhh
if you have the time and feel up to it could you maybe give me your thoughts about john x reader and height difference/size kink? please and thank you love, i hope you're doing alright❤️❤️❤️
(explicit content ahead)
He really is just perfectly designed to satisfy a size kink, isn't he?
It shouldn't be surprising--a big suit of armor needs a big man to fill it. But it's startling, the first time you actually put your hand in his. It swallows yours up entirely. He can cradle your whole head in one palm. When you're both standing, there's no such thing as face-to-face--your eyes reach the dead center of his sternum, not that you're complaining. You can press your ear there and feel the steady thump of his strong heart any time you need calming.
It makes kissing him a little tricky. Or rather, it would, if he didn’t hoist you up against him on every occasion. Early on, you’d raise onto your toes and he’d bend down and meet you halfway. But once the courting’s over and the reservations are gone, every kiss is an excuse to pull you to him. It seems to cost him no effort at all.
He’s an active guy, he doesn’t sit down often. But when he does, you take every opportunity to perch in his lap. To sling your arms around his shoulders, sloped like a fine wide mountain range, and lick into his mouth to taste the pleased little sounds he makes. You feel inadequate sometimes, with your small hands trying to map out the whole expanse of his skin, all the freckles and veins and muscle-hard ridges. But he lets you touch your fill, even when you smooth over scars. He lets you touch until he’s hard underneath you, and if he sees the face of shock you make the first time you realize the size of him, he doesn't comment on it.
You're very insistent that you can take the whole him, but he's equally insistent that you take it slow. Because he's watched you wince with just two of his fingers--if only you could make him understand that it's the sweetest kind of ache. All the same, you promise to pace yourself when he finally agrees. He gets two orgasms out of you first--one by tongue and another by fingers. Then and only then does he lay back and let you have your way.
You'd be lying if you said it doesn't appeal to some part of your ego, mounting the biggest stallion in all of UNSC. Knowing that you snagged him. But god, it takes effort. Effort to breathe and relax your muscles, effort not to contort your face lest he start to worry. Halfway down, you tip your head back and close your eyes and suddenly his godawful big hands are firm and steady on your hips, "you got this." Surprised by his voice, you open your eyes and they lock onto his--it's your John, of course, but it's the field leader in him, too. Determined and full of encouragement. You nod and he nods with you. You blush a little at the sight of him, massive and sprawled out beneath you, and he grants you a rare, warm, self-satisfied smile. You imagine yourself made of liquid and slide the rest of the way down, and even though your eyelids flutter at the overwhelming fullness, you can see his whole body strain--tight tendons and flexed muscles and the tips of ears blazing pink.
You swear you can feel him in your fucking lungs. He puts one massive palm to your belly, where the whole of his cock seems to have disappeared, and the unstoppable reflex to clench around the intrusion knocks a groan out of both of you. Neither of you lasts long--it's too much, too full. But it feels like victory as you pant and laugh in awe together.
Your bed can't fit the both of you, but his chest makes a fine pillow and his arms keep you plenty warm.
For all of you newcomers out there, here's a list that I've wanted to do for a while now. For those who are new to Halo, likely introduced by the TV Show, and want to get into it, here's my 2 cents on how to ease into the franchise.
The Games
Play the original four games PLUS Halo Infinite in chronological order. The spin-off games (Reach, ODST, the Wars games and the Spartan games) are all completely optional, but they are there for people who want play other games that aren't centered around the Master Chief. I recommend just watching all of the cutscenes of Halo 5: Guardians in some supercut "movie" Youtube video, since the 5th game is... bad and, story wise, you're not missing much.
So in this order WITHOUT the spin-offs:
Halo: Combat Evolved
Halo 2
Halo 3
Halo 4
Halo Infinite
If you want to play the games WITH the spin-offs included, then in this order:
Halo Wars
Halo Reach
Halo: Combat Evolved
Halo 2
Halo 3: ODST
Halo 3
Halo: Spartan Assault
Halo: Spartan Strike (Note: This game takes place in two different time-periods, so just play this after Spartan Assault for convenience sake)
Halo 4
Halo Wars 2
Halo Infinite
My advice: Play the main four (+ Infinite) FIRST, then replay the main-games WITH the spin-offs in chronological-order.
Books & Comics
Here comes my favorite part!
Books
Halo: The Fall Of Reach, Halo: First Strike & Halo: Contact Harvest - The FIRST books in the entire franchise, these books set the stage for the entire setting of the Halo world. The first half of The Fall Of Reach is Master Chief's origin story, while the second half is about, well, "the fall of Reach." First Strike is a book that takes place in-between the first and second game AND, for a high-octane action-book, has a shocking amount of shipping material. And finally, Contact Harvest details the early years of the Human-Covenant War AND further fleshes out the Covenant as an antagonistic force by showing their side of things.
Halo: Silent Storm & Halo: Oblivion - For those who want MOAR Master Chief, these two books focus on a younger Chief fighting the Covenant in the earlier uears of the war. These two are probably my favorite Halo books thus far.
Halo: Ghosts Of Onyx & The Kilo-5 Trilogy - It's crucial to read Ghosts Of Onyx first BEFORE delving into Glasslands, the first book in The K5-Trilogy, since Glasslands takes place IMMEDIATELY after Ghosts Of Onyx. Anyways, these stories are for those who are bored of Master Chief and want to read about other, admittedly more fascinating Spartans. Kurt and Naomi are definitely among my favorite Spartans that aren't named "Master Chief," "Blue-Team" and "Silver-Team."
Halo Evolutions - An anthology book with each story taking place in some corner of the Halo universe or another, this is a book I recommend for world-building purposes.
Comics
Halo: The Graphic Novel - Just like Evolutions, Halo: The Graphic Novel is an anthology series thay tells different stories from different corners of the Halo universe for world-building purposes. These stories are all new stories and are NOT comic-adaptations of any of the stories in Evolutions, so don't worry about basically reading the same stories twice; The Graphic Novel has a similar concept, but all of the stories are different.
Halo: Blood Line - Black-Team is the coolest group of Spartans in the entire Spartan-II Program; they're group of misfit loners (who secretly have feelings for each other) who answer ONLY to ONI (the CIA of the Halo universe) and wear black suits of armor with roman-numerals etched onto their visors. They do cool-guy shit together, and this comic follows their story.
Other Material
Audio-Dramas
I Love Bees - Taking place in various different points in time, I Love Bees was an ARG that was turned into an audio-play long after it was deciphered. I won't spoil anything that happens, but I will say this: Shit gets kinda crazy.
Hunt The Truth - Another ARG. This fictional podcast was made to promote Halo 5: Guardians and... it's the best damn part to come out of that stinker of a game; Hunt The Truth's narrative is SO much more interesting than Halo 5's story, it HURTS. Anyways, it's about a reporter uncovering the truth of the Spartan-II Program as ONI starts a smear campaign against the Master Chief to cover their own asses.
Movies & Shows
Halo 4: Forward Unto Dawn - This web-film was promotional material for Halo 4 (as it's title suggests), and it follows a group teenaged military-school students going about their lives as Lasky, a confused cadet who is struggling to find a direction in life and live up to his family's reputation, grapples with the struggles of military-life in his academy.
Halo: The Series - If, by some off-chance, you WEREN'T introduced to Halo via the show, here's the recommendation. Form your own opinion, but here's my advice: Like what you want to like and don't follow the word of mouth.
Halo Legends - An anime anthology that, just like Evolutions and The Graphic Novel, world-builds the mythology of Halo by telling different, disconnected but ultimately in-continuity stories set within the game's universe. Odd One Out, Homecoming and The Package are my favorite shorts in the film.
Machinimas
Red Vs Blue - What else? Seasons 1 - 14 are my recommendations, don't watch anything else beyond that because it SERIOUSLY drops in quality. Just wait for it's final season, Season 19, to come out; you're not missing much with seasons 15 - 18.
The Spartan Legacy - A seriously underrated series. Made by a Youtuber under the name: 'Chronicler177,' The Spartan Legacy takes place in an alternate-continuity where Chief disappears and never comes back after the events of Halo 3. As a result, the Spartan-IVs and Vs (both of which are more interesting than in-canon; and the Spartan-Vs are a new creation within this web-show itself) are created to take his place.
CRASH - A neat new series that features a group of special-ops scouts being relocated to an old NATO-Base. These characters are SO LIKABLE IT FRUSTRATES ME. Words can't really do the show justice, so just go watch it. What're you still doing here? WATCH IT, DAMMIT.
Song: Blow by Atreyu
Fandom: American Gods
lol okay so this song is actually from an anime rage playlist that i listen to at work a LOT because people get on my nerves. it's not exactly sticking to the song, but i think it's close. I hope you like it!! in terms of where this sits, it's somewhere during their travels. I'm not 100% sure where as of right now, but I'll figure it out later! :D
Chapters:Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four || Chapter Five || Chapter Six || Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine || Chapter Ten || Chapter Eleven || Chapter Twelve || Chapter Thirteen || Chapter Fourteen || Chapter Fourteen-ish || Chapter Fifteen || Chapter Sixteen || Chapter Seventeen || Chapter Eighteen || Chapter Nineteen || Chapter Twenty || Chapter Twenty-One || Chapter Twenty-Two
Requests:Mad Sweeney and The Holidays || The Invasion and the Stressful Blows
One Shots:The Invasion and That One Thankful Holiday || The Invasion and the Weight of Change || Eyes On You
The Invasion and the Stressful Blows
There was something that was itching at Sweeney, making him irritable. It was easy to tell, after knowing him for so long – there was a hunch to his shoulders, a tightness that coiled down his neck and around his spine until it held him tight. It reminded you of something, something saw days or months or years ago, it was hard to remember, but you were sure he reminded you of himself, of the things you saw while learning his name. He paced back and forth and you saw a war brewing across his shoulders that made your own ache.
“Hey,” you gently called, voice falling flat in the empty hotel room.
He turned on the ball of his foot, old carpet protesting under his boot.
It was far too early, you thought, for him to be withdrawn and angry and you couldn’t even pinpoint what happened to put him in a mood. You’d just woken up to see him pacing, muttering to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists at his side.
You shifted on the bed, curling your legs under you and pulling the blanket over them as he stalked past again.
“Sweeney,” you called through a yawn.
He twisted again at the door, breathing in harshly through his nose as his eyes flitted over you without seeing you. You wondered if he even heard you. You swallowed and rose from the bed, letting the blanket pool around your feet as you carefully padded to him.
“Sweeney,” you whispered, reaching out to brush your hands over his arms.
He flinched, squeezing his eyes shut, muscles tensing beneath your fingers.
“Where are you?” you gently asked.
He exhaled slowly, keeping his eyes closed. “Field,” he muttered after a long moment, “War.” His body went limp as you gave him another squeeze, leaning into you until you both crumbled to the floor. His arms wrapped around your back and held you there.
“Wanna talk about it?” you murmured against his shoulder.
He grunted, huffed, and finally sighed. “No,” he mumbled. He dropped his head against your shoulder, curling around you. You held him tight, rubbing your fingers up and down his back. You could feel the rage easing out of him one pass at a time, until he melted around you with a sigh.
“Now that you’re a little more relaxed,” you said, leaning back to look up into his face, “You wanna blow off some steam?”
Sweeney was on his feet before you finished your sentence, yanking the dingy mattress to the floor with a grunt. “Been a bit, luv,” he grunted as he flung his denim shirt to the side, “Hope you’re ready.”
“I’ll be fine,” you argued as you stood. You rolled your shoulders. “Ready?”
He lunged.
The two of you ended up paying for another night and some damage to the box spring, but at least Sweeney looked lighter when the two of you finally left.
Just experienced the absolute worst whiplash finding out that this man whose bones I wanted to jump the moment he came onscreen for his raw sexual charisma
Is also actually. No I can’t say it - it’s this guy 😭
tags: divergent timeline, soulmate!au, takes place across season 1 & 2, missed connections, the Razor Crest lives, PiV, marking, creampie, magical elements
a/n: for the TS Challenge by @beskarandblasters! This was so fun, thanks so much for hosting this event! 💖 I was so excited to get this song & character
There's something about him, this man.
Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.
You feel as if you are always out of step.
Too early. And then somehow - just a little bit too late.
As if you've missed something crucial. A prickle on the back of your neck. Eyes scanning the crowds of people as you weave through cities - looking for someone.
As to whom, though - you're never quite sure.
You think it's always been there. A similar sort of feeling that flickers when you're in danger. That was something you had cultivated. Manipulated into a force you can wield. A push and pull, an aid - when you need it. Something you draw from often, during your days as a smuggler.
But you're not sure what to do with this.
The feeling is pushed down on Nevarro.
Contacted for a job, one that had been easy enough. Your goods exchanged in a dingy cantina - a shipment of stolen fuel cells furtively traded to an irritated man that went by Karga. Your eyebrows raised at the charred hole in the man's fine clothes - a half-hearted wonder at how the man was still standing.
The Imperial credits he offers you do not get you far. He's unable to offer you a puck - his trade was in bounty hunting, not smuggling. You're not sure if you'd take one, and the cells are enough to keep his crew afloat for a while. A dead-end for now, but you think - not always.
After, your ship drifts along an unseen track.
To Tatooine this time. A big job for the Hutts that takes you two weeks. Days in the sun spent waiting for the payments to transfer to your account, and so in the meantime - you tinker.
Trading your way up. A broken blaster fixed, exchanged for ship parts. The parts installed, the labor paid for with two, beat-up old speeders.
Only to sell them both to a cocky hot-shot bounty hunter for double their value - his over-blown self-confidence eclipsing the fact that you were absolutely swindling him.
It’s not your problem.
Though here, you can't help but feel the urge to linger. An itch beneath your skin, as if you've missed something, again.
You ignore it. Trading up one more time - swapping Mos Eisley for the sea. The choppy waters of Trask washing away the grit and sand that clings to your skin.
There's always work to be found here - deals to make with the Quarren and Mon Calamari. Those days spent at the inn, with lunches of warm homemade chowder and wrapped in chunky-knit sweaters.
Eyes snagging on a couple that often sits together at lunch. Their features frog-like, affection clear in their soft chatter, the slow blink of their large, black eyes. You imagine it to be a stolen moment - meeting up in the afternoon, too eager to wait until evening to see each other.
It’s nice.
It follows you, back to your room.
You think about them later - the obvious connection. A bone-deep urge to find another that matches a part of you. Something you've never had.
Somehow you know it’s out there.
But it's not time.
The next day, your ship takes off again.
There's a feeling deep down that for once, you're right where you need to be.
Your path is not guided by a job. Something spinning inside your chest like the point of a compass, your fingers keying coordinates with a mind of their own.
It's not a sea. Not a desert. Not a growing town, slowly rebuilding.
You're taken to a forest. The trees are unlike those you've seen - stretching tall and thin towards the sky. Their leaves sparse, but still filling the space with the sheer number.
There's a village - but you're drawn away from the tall walls. There's nothing inside that you seek. Drawn back to the trees you had seen from above. There's no tracks for you to follow, it's only your own boots pressed into the earth.
But you still go out, day after day.
It's on the third day, as you sit by the edge of a clear, shallow pool, that you hear the crack of branches under boots.
It should frighten you… but it doesn't.
It feels like an inevitability.
Your head turns, and there's a man there. His limbs encased in armor of shining beskar. A Mandalorian, you realize, when your eyes meet the dark visor that bisects his helmet.
"It's you." The words are a flat buzz, through his helmet. Unsurprised, somehow. Just as you are.
And it's him.
There's something about him, this man.
Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.
You're not sure what that something is...
But think you are finally ready to find out.
His touch is familiar, though you've never known it. Much like everything else, it feels almost destined.
You know he feels it too. A slow circling dance, the weight of his eyes following you from behind the visor. That string inside no longer feels like a leash, but instead - a lifeline.
Finally being able to acknowledge that he has been what you've been orbiting around this whole time. Easing that ever-present ache of loneliness that had always followed you.
For some time, he had thought you would be the one to train Grogu. That perhaps this had been the reason why the fates had pushed you together.
You had tried, and failed. That part of you still too raw, too unfashioned. It lived inside you, but it was something you had been unable to teach another. How could you, when you did not even know the word for what it was?
And as time passed, you realized deep down that you were truly meant to be here now. Not for the before.
An aid at first, of course. You had gone with him to Tython. Traded in your ship, and traveled on the Slave 1. Had faced death by his side, staring into the black chrome of the Dark Troopers.
Had grieved with him, after.
You think this had been your place all along.
This liminal space, in those months that follow.
Giving him something to grab onto. Fingers sinking into flesh, your back hitting the mattress as he follows.
It’s dark, in the belly of his ship. With anyone else your senses would be screaming, a ringing alarm.
But you’ve come to know each room, fingers tracing the cold metal. From the walls, to the bunk, to him - the tips slipping under to tug at the fastenings of his armor.
He is quiet, like he often is now. But you can feel the heat that rolls off him in waves. The harsh buzz of his breath through the vocoder, before the light cuts out completely.
Before it’s just him and you.
His knees nudge your thighs wider. Pressing into muscle and flesh, forcing them up and apart. Your fingers twist in his curls, angling your mouth up to meet the kiss that is all teeth and tongue.
Fingers dip down, thick and calloused. Parting you, nudging inside to where you’re wet and waiting. Pumping deep with his thumb pressed snug against the button of your clit - leaving you dizzy and clenching and wondering if he just knew, as well.
You think he did. He does.
And when he works himself inside you, you finally feel full. Ripping a sound from each of you - his rough and swallowed, yours a broken murmur of his name.
Something else given in the dark, on another night akin to this. Pieces of himself peeled back and gifted, only to be carefully wrapped up and buried deep.
The pound of his hips itches at something you’ve been missing. Those hands tugging at your hips, pulling you to meet each harsh thrust. Fingers slipping down to swirl against you again - a spark rising each time you fit together, building swiftly to an inferno.
“Din,” You breathe, as something heavy flickers inside you, just out of reach, “Stars, please. Don’t stop-”
“I won’t,” It’s a low oath, as his cock grinds deep, “I’ve waited too long for you, cyare.”
He wrenches it from you, setting you ablaze. Your is cry loud in the tiny room as you come undone. The wild swirl of your senses narrowing down, until it’s just him. Din’s mouth against your neck, warm breath and teeth nipping marks into your skin - the pleasure flowing from you in pulsing waves, sinking into him.
Making him follow, no more than a dozen thrusts later. A gritted, bitten-back moan of your own name, before his hips are stuttering. Giving back what you passed to him, his cock throbbing inside you, buried deep.
Where he stays, until he’s gone soft. A pang of loss shuddering through you when he slips from between your thighs - expecting him to return to his own bunk.
To leave you, again.
But the mattress dips, next to you. The space narrow, a short sigh when you wiggle too much trying to get comfortable. Hands hooking around your wrists, hauling your hips over his. Settling you down on top of him.
And in the dark - he stays.
“Should have met you on Tatooine,” Din tells you later that night, unbidden. Letting your legs twine with his, thighs parted to make room for you. “I didn’t know it was you. If I had-”
His words end abruptly, hanging. Both of you thinking about all those moments when time hadn’t lined up. The synchronicity of your movements, just barely nudged out of time.
Both there, during that same moment. If you had stayed another day, maybe that would have been your meeting.
But you had left early, and he had came late.
“We’re here now.” You tell him, chin pressing against his chest. Eyes finding his in the dark, though you cannot see. “Isn’t that enough?”
There’s the brush of his hand along your spine - knuckles, and then fingertips as they unfurl.
“Yes.”
It is enough, for now.
You’re not sure if it’s forever. If, for some reason, you’ll be forced to part again. But tonight, you’re not worried.
Because, if you were to reach inside yourself and pluck that golden string right now - letting it thrum…
