Creed
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Listing Series
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Summary
An artifact from the Mandalorian's old life leads to trying something new - and remembering the past.
You'd been traveling together for months, a reluctant passenger paired with an unhappy custodian. It had been weeks since the first time the tension between you rose to the breaking point, pulling his hands to you like a gravity well.
Series
- Part 1 of Creed
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Summary
The Mandalorian comes home drunk, desperate, and absolutely unwilling to admit anything to himself. So you do it for him.
He unlatches his helmet with a hiss that sounds like a sigh, strips off his gloves, and then begins to unstrap his beskar, fingers taking him through the motions automatically. When he's done, and with his blaster in easy reach on the table beside the bed, he lays back into the enveloping softness and dims the already low lights. He wants to sleep but he knows it won't be possible yet. His body has started its own cycle, as inexorable as the spin of a galaxy, and he won't be able to rest until he completes it.
Series
- Part 2 of Creed
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Summary
A series of drabbles all sharing one theme: you've decided to run away from your Mandalorian. On purpose. For his birthday. Listen, everyone's got their kinks, and his is bounty hunting (sort of. Mostly, it's you.)
The first time it's a surprise: “When I said run, I didn’t mean from me!"
The second time he’s exasperated: “When I said run, I didn’t mean run to my friends!”
The third time, he's impressed: “When I said run, I didn’t mean run to the nearest available warlord."
The fourth time it's a relief: “When I said run, I didn’t mean… end up in kriffing jail."
The fifth time, it's a hot whisper against your ear in the dark: “When I said run, I didn’t mean stay in my bed.”Series
- Part 3 of Creed
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Summary
When bad dreams wake you the night before your wedding, you find only two things will make you feel better: a certain helmet - and your future husband.
They'd won in the end, as you'd known they would. The big one had held you down while the tall woman wearing armor tightened the restraints around your wrists and ankles. Then your thighs and waist and - horrifyingly intimate, close enough that your breath fogged the beskar of her helmet - your neck. Once the last buckle flipped shut you nearly passed out, immobility so much worse than the comparatively straightforward act of being kidnapped.
You threw up again, this time without the encouragement of a boot to the gut. With your neck strapped to the chair you couldn't lean over, and had to suffer the indignity of gloved fingers sweeping through your mouth to check your airway after you were done heaving.
The yellow helmet said, as if you weren't even in the room: "Be careful. We need her alive."
Series
- Part 4 of Creed