#but that was just because i made them see stars haha

[thegeniuswizard]

N.sfw in tags

[starwaffle345]

i should pick up my sky x worldless wip again

[faerieorbitars]

i still haven’t watched the uhm. towel house. but i think i have the general gist of it :beams:

[shidoukanae]

Hello I know it’s been a long while since you talked about pokemon but I got a question, and feel free to ignore it if you don’t feel comfortable

Why did you delete some of your swsh fanfics but not others? Even if they weren’t canon compliant, they were still very fun reads

Hello!!! And no worries about asking this question, honestly im just happy to know that my Pokémon works are loved enough for you to be asking this question haha

I'm going to sound Big Dumb Here TM but can I ask which fics you're referring to? I don't recall taking down any of my SwSh fanfics (tho I checked and I do have a Gou/Koharu one tucked into a hidden collection, so are you maybe referring to that one?).

I still have all the ones I remember up and able to view - Trencher Fed and Scatter, Anachronism, Stars and Nebula, the Project SSS pre-game fic series, etc. - but if you're not seeing any of those then please let me know so i can see if i can fix that!!!

[danveration]

Sleep well, amour.

Parings: Alastor x reader

Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?

Word count: 2844

Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)

part two

A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)

Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.

You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.

“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.

“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.

“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.

After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.

While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.

He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.

“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.

His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.

“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.

“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.

“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.

Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.

“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.

Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.

While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.

“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.

“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.

Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”

She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.

He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”

After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.

“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.

Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.

“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.

One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.

You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.

“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.

“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.

Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.

“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.

“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.

“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”

You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.

Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?

“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”

Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.

“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.

You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”

You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.

Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.

You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.

“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.

You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.

“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.

“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.

You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.

This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.

You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.

Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.

“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.

You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.

“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.

After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.

Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.

He walks over to you and looks down.

“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.

He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.

“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.

“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.

[moonchild9350]

Miss You

Summary: Chan is finally home after his trip to Milan for Fendi Men's Fashion Week and has a surprise in store for you.

Pairing: idol Chan x fab reader

Genre: fluff, smut-18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1594

Warnings: fingering, p in v penetration, creampie (wrap it up, wrap it up), daddy kink, dirty talk, use of the word slut, mention of breeding

Notes: listen Chan has been on my mind this week haha hence why I called this week Chan week.

Likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated. : ) If you'd like to be apart of the taglist, let me know! (age must be in bio or pinned to be added)

This is not how Chan is in reality, this is solely for fun.

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

There was silence as you and Chan sat side by side in the company car, after just pulling away from the curb at the airport.

Chan had just got back from Milan and you wanted to be there when he got off the plane. Of course you couldn’t wait outside the car because of paparazzi and fans, you’re relationship not public yet, but your face was plastered against the tinted window, watching your handsome boyfriend make his way to the car, waving and smiling at the crowds of people gathered.

He looked sinful, dressed in jeans and a black tank, his muscular arms on full display. Chan made it to the door and you scooted back, making room for him but also so the crowd couldn’t see you. He opened the door, giving one more bow to those gathered before sliding in next to you.

“Hey baby,” Chan said leaning over to give you a kiss.

“Hi my fashion star,” you said. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he said before getting out wolf Chan. “He misses you too,” Chan said before making wolf Chan kiss your nose.

You giggled, thinking it was so cute that Chan brought wolf chan with him, a little comfort from home. You were happy he was home, missing his presence, especially at the dorm. Chan told you all about his trip and how much fun he had, and all the other celebrities he met. But he also told you how nervous he was the day of the event, but made it through with the thought of the kids and of course you on his mind waiting for him back home.

“Well you were amazing,” you said giving him a smile.

The car pulled up to the dorm, Chan getting out first before helping you out of the car. You both walked hand and hand to the door, kicking off your shoes once inside. It was quiet inside, no one else was home, the others probably at the building for their schedule.

Chan looked at you before saying, “you know the drill.”

You did a little jump, clapping your hands, before sprinting to Chan’s room. You were prepared, wearing the appropriate outfit for the occasion, a little skirt with your black, lacey panties Chan loved so much. You climbed on the bed, getting in position, after all Chan had you well trained.

Chan loved this little tradition he had with you. When he came home from out of town, he’d expected you to be waiting for him, preferably head down, ass up, but of course depending on the time of day he got home, he tolerated other positions too. This was his favorite though. Yes, you had to fine tune the rules, but over time you knew what to expect, what to wear, and he loved you for it.

You heard Chan walk in the room, not able to see him due to the position you were in. You felt him grab your ass, squeezing the flesh in his big hands, letting out a shaky breath with his touch. You could imagine his muscles flexing, looking like a dream in that tank. Chan proceeded to flip your skirt over, admiring the view of your ass with the panties he likes so much on you. You wore a crotchless thong, providing him easy access to the place he wanted most.

He rubbed his hands around your ass, dragging his fingers down to your pussy, sliding them through your folds. You were wet, slick coating his fingers as he teased your hole. You mewled out at his touch, arching your back to present your pussy more to him. The ability to not see what he was about to do added to the thrill, more slick leaking out, and onto your thighs. You’re sure your skirt had a wet patch on it, due to the crotchless panties, but you were prepared, choosing a darker color skirt to hide the stains.

He slid two fingers within your walls, stretching you out, preparing you for his cock. You would need it since it’s almost been a week since you’ve been stretched out. The slight sting felt good, a reminder for what’s to come. You sighed out, nuzzling your head further into the sheets below. It was silent in the room, except for an occasional squelch from your walls as Chan worked you open and your little moans.

“Look at this pussy, daddy’s favorite.”

You hummed and wiggled your ass for him, the flesh jingling for his eyes.

Chan groaned out, entranced at the sight. He would never tire of it. “Such easy access too baby, my good little slut making it easy for me to get to this little pussy,” he said as he continued to pump his fingers in and out your hole.

You loved the dirty talk, feeling more slick drip out of you and down your thighs. “Hmm I think you’re ready for my baby,” Chan said, as he withdrew his fingers. You gasped at the sudden emptiness. You could hear Chan unzip his jeans, sliding them down to pull out his cock.

Chan stroked his cock, staring at his prize. He was big, he knew he was big. He had a nice girth, so he could fill you up, perfect for you. “Spread your legs wider baby, let me in there.”

You obliged, moving your knees farther apart, and arching your back even more.

Chan hummed his approval, stepping up to you before dragging his leaking cock through your folds. He let out a low groan, having gone so long without your pussy. He couldn’t wait to sink into you, and with a slight change in his stance, he pressed his tip into you, slowly pushing in, stretching you out.

As Chan pushed in inch by inch, you moaned out, the sound echoing throughout the room, your fingers clenching the sheets. He finally bottomed out, flush against your ass, your warm walls stretched snuggly around his cock. Chan let out a shaky breath, trying to control his breathing so he wouldn't immediately blow his load, going so long without being buried within your walls.

“Move, please move,” you whimpered out, sliding your hips down his cock to gain some friction.

Chan chuckled at your desperation before slowly pulling out until his tip was just breaching your hole before slamming back into you, your body rocking forward with the force. He pounded into you, the sound of skin hitting skin and your moans and little “ah ahs” gracing his ears. He gripped the waist of your skirt, so he could have a hold on you better.

You couldn’t move in this position, your face squished in the sheets with each thrust from Chan. He was fucking you hard, the feeling overwhelming of his cock dragging in and out your walls. You clenched around his cock, lost in the pleasure he was giving you, little breaths falling from your lips.

“Mmm, daddy it feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“You missed daddy’s cock? Missed my cock ruining this little pussy?” Chan asked, his pace never faltering. He was lost in the warmth of your walls, sucking him in with each thrust. He thrusted harder into you, sweat beading against his brow, his breath falling out in little pants. God he missed this, he missed you.

“Missed your cock daddy. Missed your cum.” You whined.

“Yeah you did,” Chan replied, “rub your clit baby. Can you do that? Touch yourself for me yeah.”

You quickly brought your fingers down to your clit, pushing your skirt out of the way that was obstructing your access to the bundle of nerves. You began rubbing sloppy circles around the bud, mewling out at the extra stimulation.

“That’s it baby. Keep touching your clit. Such a good girl”. Chan said, as he threw his head back. He gripped your hips harder, as he felt his high approaching, you pussy clenching again and again around his cock.

Your breath picked up, the coil in your belly tightening as Chan pounded into you. You felt Chan readjust his position, causing his cock to kiss your cervix with each thrust. You sped up your motions, fingers slipping and sliding on your puffy clit, your slick drenching your labia.

“Cum with me baby. Let me breed this little pussy, yeah?”

You moaned out, your voice getting louder and louder, until you felt that coil snap in your belly, the feeling of ecstasy spreading through you, your toes curling, and cries falling from your lips as you continued to rub your clit in time with Chan’s thrusts. You felt Chan speed up, his thrusts becoming more erratic before he let out a groan, and with one more thrust, you felt Chan’s hot cum, filling you up.

You both stayed in that position for a moment, Chan leaning down to press kisses on your back, catching your breaths. Finally, Chan stood up and slowly pulled out of you, before stuffing his fingers back into your pussy.

“Gotta keep it in there, okay baby?”

You felt Chan flip your skirt back down before tucking his softened cock back into his boxers and zip his pants back up. He helped you out of the position you were in, before laying down and pulling you to his chest.

“Ahhh I love coming home to you baby, just missed you so much.” He said before kissing the top of your head.

“Me too Channie. Welcome home.” You replied before dozing off, happy to be back in your boyfriend’s arms.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @thesilvernight0wl

[lyinginmeadow]

Breakaway pt I. | hockey!Azriel × reader

Summary: You're not a fan of a kiss cam. And neither is your boyfriend.

Word count: 1,8k

Warnings: swearing, miserable knowledge of hockey (sorry yall), Rhys being a protective asshole over his sister

A/n: Anyone a hockey fan? No, just me? Okay. Another thing is, that I described university as I know it in my country haha. I hope no one will be confused

Also yes, I did take inspiration from tiktok. I just loved that scene <3

>> Pt 2

Leaves started to fall which meant your favorite season was starting. You loved anything and everything that came with autumn. The pumpkin spice, moody weather, sweaters, and books. With autumn knocking on your door, the new semester has begun. You didn't mind studying, you actually enjoyed it to a certain degree, but the stress is what always got to you during exams. You were just starting your second year of university, so you knew what to expect. To many that was all. Just endless studying and partying to get their minds off things. You? Not really. Ever since you could remember, fall meant the hockey season started. Were you a hockey player? No, not at all. Ice skating was your passion, just not hockey. That didn't matter, because your brother was the golden child. Rhysand played because your father used to. You would never say it out loud, mainly because it would inflate his ego even more, but Rhysand was a star player. He was so much better than your father and you knew that if he wanted to, he would make it far. 

 Rhys never acted towards you with any malice other than just a bit of sibling rivalry. He was actually quite protective of you, given the fact you were his little sister. But whatever you did was never good enough for your father. You might study medicine, but Rhys was finishing law. You might figure skate but you were no hockey player. And most of all, you were a woman. And your father despised you for it. You were expected to make it to every game, but no one ever wanted to attend your competitions.  You enjoyed watching the games, especially when Rhys met his best friends and teammates at university. The games became so much more interesting when Azriel entered the ice. Rhys might be the captain and the center, but Azriel was a force to be reckoned with, the fastest player in the rink. You became friends with both Cassian and Azriel quickly since you often visited their house to get away from your parents. Rhysand of course was glad but you knew you were off-limits to his friends. Not only was it obvious in how he glared at both of them whenever they made a comment he didn’t appreciate. But the first time you met, Cass basically undressed you with his eyes. From what you heard he reminded them often to not mess with his sister.

It did not stop you from developing feelings for him the moment you laid eyes on him. For a while, it did seem he viewed you only as his best friend's little sister. Which you had a hard time accepting. Your relationship changed when you sneaked into a party they had thrown in celebration of a victory last year. You were a first-year, and your first semester at university had been hectic, but living close to your brother and away from your parents was a long-awaited blessing. Having a taste of freedom made you bold. Azriel couldn't take his eyes off of you, you had been like a magnet. He hadn't been the only one as you attracted the attention of another freshman. Azriel might not have acted on his attraction towards you before but seeing you with another man changed that. One thing led to another and you were sneaking out together whenever you found time.

It had been a year and your brother still had no clue. And you intended to keep it that way. You loved your boyfriend, you didn't want to worry about his teeth off the ice as well. Cassian on the other hand suspected, thankfully as you introduced him to your friend, Nesta, he became preoccupied and dropped the matter. 

''So who do you think will win? And be honest, they're not here, you can't hurt their fragile egos.'' Nesta disturbed your train of thought. You laughed shaking your head. You loved hanging out with her because of how direct she was, always saying exactly what was on her mind. You met Nesta when your university did a charity ballet on the ice of Nutcracker. You got the role of Clara and she was your ballet counterpart. You did not expect to establish a friendship with her, but she was exactly who you needed in your life. You knew she would call you out on your bullshit anytime and you liked her for it. She also happened to be the first person you told about Azriel. She was not surprised, saying that you weren't being as secretive as you thought you had been.

''You know I am still biased since I really want our team to win. The Cavaliers are good and they play dirty. But Cass will probably try to kill Eris on the ice. Given the history and all.'' You gave her a pointed look. Shifting your gaze to the rink, you tried to find number 38.

''They’ve got no chance against VU.'' Said a guy next to you. You hated when someone butted their way into a conversation. But given the fact, that you would be spending about two hours in close proximity, you had decided for a polite smile. ''I guess so.''

''So how come you've got such good seats? Know someone on the team?'' He chimed in again.

''You could say that. My brother is the captain.'' You answered keeping your eyes on Azriel as he warmed up.

''Rhysand is your brother?''

''Unfortunately.'' You nodded, and his eyes grew in size. ''That's so lucky! I wish I was a hockey player or just knew them. You see, I got these seats because I'll be writing an article about the game.'' You smiled politely again shifting your gaze to the rink when the puck was just about to hit the ice.

As the game progressed, the crowd became electric. All the fans were shouting and your ears began ringing. Velaris Bats were in the lead, but only by one goal and everyone was nervous. To make the game even more enjoyable, there were games for the fans as well. Students competed against one another to win points for their university and win the competition of the tribunes.

The competitions were fun and good entertainment during breaks. But while the game continued the camera was turned on. You laughed at a random do a meme moment, but quickly turned your head back to the ice. You didn't want to miss a second of Azriel's game. Fully focused, you didn't realize that the camera switched to a kiss cam. A guy sitting next to you turned his head to face you and pointed to the TV earning your attention. ''I mean when in Rome, right?'' He laughed as he tried to close the distance. ''Yeah, no, thank you.'' You laughed nervously shifting in your seat.

''Oh come on, it's just a kiss.'' He pressured, and you gave a panicked look towards the ice. You heard Nesta taking a sharp inhale to give the guy a piece of her mind. You were interrupted by shouts of the fans and loud banging on the glass. 

''Back the fuck off.'' You couldn't hear Az properly, but the message was quite clear, making the guy shift his gaze between the two of you uncomfortably. Az got two minutes for stalling the game which made the crowd boo and your brother yell obscenities as he often did when one of his teammates was sent to a bench. Thankfully during the power play the Cavaliers didn't get a goal in, but it was close. It only enraged Rhysand more which was abundantly clear when he almost broke his stick as the second period came to an end.

Azriel was sending daggers to the guy sitting next to you who looked like he wanted nothing more than to leave. He relaxed when the players left for their locker rooms. You just hoped Rhys didn't look much into Azriel's possessive behavior.

''What the fuck was that?'' Roared Rhys as he entered the locker room.

''I don't know what you're talking about.'' Azriel continued to take off his gear.

''Do not play with me! You could have cost us the game.''

''I was thinking I did you a favor. He had no right to touch her like that.'' He finally faced Rhysand.

''It was a fucking kiss cam.''

''She didn't want to be kissed. And he didn't back off.''

''So what? You made it your mission to help her while you were supposed to pay attention to the puck?'' Spit Rhys. Everyone in the locker room was silent watching the two stubborn players go head to head.

''Yes! And I would do it again.'' Azriel retorted.

''I could have you off the team for this.'' He hissed.

''Rhys-.'' Cassian signed. ''Be my guest.'' Azriel interrupted starring Rhysand down. He wouldn't back down. He couldn't. He knew you could have handled yourself back there. Hell, Nesta was there, too and she wouldn't let some guy do anything disrespectful. He just acted on an impulse. When he looked up and saw your panicked gaze, something shifted inside him. Rhys kept watching Azriel, staring right into his soul when suddenly his eyes grew larger as if recognizing what he should have seen from the very beginning.

''You've got to be kidding me.'' When Azriel didn't answer, Rhys continued, ''Tell me you don’t have a thing for my little sister.’’

''Azriel, I swear to everything that is holly, I will fucking punch you if you don't give me an answer.''

''We are together. Have been for almost a year.'' Azriel never saw anyone have an aneurysm. But if he could guess, Rhysand was a textbook example of how it looked like.

''I take it back, I will punch you anyway.'' And he might have if Cassian wasn't there to catch Rhys. ''Easy there killer. The game is still on. And you might not like it but Az is an asset.''

''I don't want to see you anywhere near her, understand? I know how you are with girls!'' Rhysand snarled.

''You know I can't do that.''

''Then you're off the team.''

''Fine.''

As they returned to the ice, the tension between Velaris Bats was palpable. Cassian was looking between his teammates probably trying to find a quick solution to the problem at hand. Azriel wasn't paying you any attention keeping his gaze on the ice only. You frowned slightly. When you looked at Rhys you found him staring back at you anger oozing out of his every move. 

He knew.

[alastor-simp]

Never Been Kissed💋 - Alastor x Female Reader

❥Summary: It gets revealed to everyone that you have never been kissed before ever, in your previous life and afterlife, and a certain deer demon takes interest in that

❥Tags: Alastor x Female Reader, Alastor x Reader, Never Been Kissed, First Kiss, Hazbin Hotel Fanfiction, Angel Is Your Bestie, Hint of Spice, Kissing, Al Becomes A Kissing Maniac

❥Notes: I love First Kiss stories so I wanted to do one with Alastor. Enjoy:) (Fanart credit to unakura on Twitter)

"That guy is smoking hot!! Denise is def gonna choose him." Angel said, as he was leaning against the pillow, face a bit flushed from the guys hotness. "Nah, he's too much of a tool. Besides Ray is a much better choice and he's much hotter." You argued back against Angel's comment. The both of you were watching a hell's version of a dating show, set in the Lust Ring of Hell. It was similar to the shows on Earth, just with demons and more sluttier plot. Everyone else was doing their own thing, Charlie and Vaggie were deciding what the next redemption lesson was, Sir Pentious and Niffty were baking in the kitchen, Husk was cleaning the bar glasses, and Alastor was sitting across from the both of you, reading his daily newspaper, chair facing a bit away from the TV due to his dislike of it.

The show continued on, the two pairs becoming a couple, which eventually lead to a hot make out session. Flustered, you turned your head away, raising your hand above your eyes to cover the scene in front of you. Angel took quick notice of your reaction, bolting out in laughter. "HAHA what's the matter with ya? Can't handle a little kissy kiss scene?" You shook your head no at his question, causing him to laugh more. "Seriously toots, you act like you never kissed before." Angel continued to laugh, his feet kicking up in the air. Lowering your hand, your face flushed red, super embarrassed. "I haven't." Unbeknownst to you, Alastors ears flicked a bit at what you said, eyes leaving the paper to gaze at you. Angel couldn't fully make out what you said because of his laughter, but he soon stopped, wiping the tears from his eyes. "What you say toots? I didn't catch that." Angel asked, inching closer towards you. Fingers twirling your hair, you slowly responded back to Angel, "I have never been kissed."

"WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?" Angels loud response, alerted the residents around him, half of them running into the lobby to see what was going on. Angel hands had grabbed your shoulders, shaking you like a maniac. "YOU'RE TELLING ME IN THE TIME YOU HAVE BEEN ALIVE AND IN HELL, NO HANDSOME SCHMUCK HAS EVER KISSED YOU BEFORE?!" Angel had fully stopped shaking you, which you were thankful for since you started to feel a bit sick. "No." The others had walked closer to where you were on the couch, except Al as he was still sitting on the chair, but his newspaper was closed, watching the scene in front of him with curious eyes. "OH MY SATAN!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! Angel's body began to lean against the couch, hands covering his eyes in disbelief.

Vaggie had slowly made her away over, a bit annoyed at Angel's reaction. "Hey, there's no need to get so work about a stupid kiss. Plenty of people have never been kissed before." Angel removed his hands from his face, glaring a bit at Vaggie. "That's not why I'm shocked. I'm shocked that someone hasn't taken one look at my best friend and thought "I wanna smooch them." Feels like a crime." Niffty, being her quick self, had run up on the couch, hands placed on your cheeks, crazed eye starring at you. "How come you never gotten kissed before? Saving yourself for the ultimate bad boy? It felt like a million eyes were watching you right now, making you extremely shy - your body wanting to escape from this awkward situation. "Look I- I don't um...."

Sensing your discomfort, Charlie had walked over, grabbing Niffty softly, setting her down on the floor. "Okayyyyyy lets change the subject alright. I have a brand new idea for all of us to try, now if you will all follow me." You were grateful to Charlie that she was trying to stir the whole topic to something else. Angel appeared apologetic, patting your head, mouthing an apology, before he got up, walking over to join Charlie and the others. You, however, weren't in the mood to join them, deciding it be better to just go to your room. As you got up and walked away, you didn't notice the crimson glowing eyes watching you, as you began to head up to your room.

***Your Bedroom***

Heaving a sigh, you carried yourself over to the bed, flopping on to it, face hitting the soft pillow. Grabbing the covers, you pulled them over yourself, wanting to hide from the world. The whole lobby situation was still playing in your mind, making you groan. Hand reaching for your other pillow, you placed it against you, hugging it tightly. You decided it be better to just sleep off what just happened, placing your face further into the pillow you were hugging, closing your eyes. A soft tapping sensation was hitting your head, but you chose to ignore it. The sensation continued, which caused you to open your eyes. Moving the cover, your eyes peaked out to see Alastor, sitting on your bed, smiling down at you. "Ahh, she finally reveals herself! Hello, my dear!" He said with astounding enthusiasm, making you groan more. "Leave me alone Alastor please." The cover returned to your head, blocking your face from Alastor again. "Now now, don't hide yourself away from me. I merely wanted to spark up a conversation with you." His clawed hand gripped at your cover, pulling it away from you, revealing yourself to him again.

Debating whether to grab the sheet again, you chose not to, unless you wanted to anger him. Slowly getting up, you looked at Al, wearing an annoyed expression. "Okay, what do you want to talk about?" Widening his smile, Alastor leaned on his side on the bed, hand placed against his cheek, "From what the effeminate spider yelled out in the lobby, you have never been kissed before, correct?" Your eyes widen at him. Seriously? He was bringing this up again?! Heaving a sigh, you nodded your head, cheeks becoming aflamed. The embarrassment radiating off of you, brought massive satisfaction to him, his smile stretching to the point it could break his face. "I don't indulge in topics of conversation like this, but this one had peaked my curiosity. So enlighten me, my dear, why haven't you kissed anyone?"

"He's messing with me", was your first thought when he asked you this, but reading his expression more closely, you realized he was being serious with his question. Turning away, hands fiddling together, you tried to answer him, "I don't have a clear answer for that. I guess what Niffty said is kinda true. Waiting for the right person...I guess." Silence filled the air after you gave your answer, only thing you could hear was the soft sounds of static from Al. "You were expecting the classic fairytale, finding your one true love kiss, I presume? His tone mocked you, making you a bit angry that he was finding amusement in this. "Yeah that's exactly it, now that I have answered your question, can you please leave me alone?" Grabbing the cover that Alastor had pulled away from you, covering your body and face, you fell on your side to the bed, facing away from him.

Static chuckling came from next to you, as you stayed under the covers, refusing to come out. "If it's something you desire, I will be willing to grant it." He spoke so calmly like he didn't just say the most shocking thing ever. Popping your head out of the cover, you craned your neck towards him, giving him an "Are you serious" look. "Yeah right. You're just joking with me." Laughing at what he said, you turned away, resuming to stay inside your blanket. A rush of wind could be heard next to you, and before you knew it, Alastor was inside the cover with you, body hovering above you, hands placed on the sides of the bed "Who's joking?" He spoke, no hint of static in his voice, as his crimson eyes gazed down at you, lips in a smirk. Jumping at his position being on top of you, your mouth became unable to form words. Was he serious? He wanted to kiss you? "Is it okay if I ask why?" You spoke softly at him, waiting to hear what he had to say.

Alastor appeared a bit put off by your question, for he himself, was a bit befuddled as to why he wanted to kiss you. His eyes gazed up, thinking hard about it. "I've roamed hell for many years, having no interest in acts of affection or romance. Many suitors often came my way, but I broke their hearts, or ate them HAHAHAHA!" His eyes flashed into dials for a second as his head went back from his uproar of laughter. Eyes continued to stare at him as he slowly calmed down from his laughing fit, face taking on a more serious tone, despite the smile still remaining on his face, “However! There were times I wondered what it would be like to take part in acts like this." The radio filter left his voice, as gloved fingers gripped your chin, thumb tracing your bottom lip, softly.

Your face was probably was red as his hair right now, as your brain was still trying to process what he was saying. Your eyes continued to stare up at Al, who continued to smile, eyes filled with softness, for once. "Is...are you comfortable doing this?" You quietly asked, palms feeling sweaty from how nervous you were. His head tilted with a crack, once again, confused by your question. "I'm worried that doing this is overstepping your boundaries. What if I am a bad kisser or have bad breath, what if I-" A boisterous laugh erupted from Al, shaking the bed, as the both of you were still covered in the tent-like blanket. "My sweet darling, there is no need to worry about trivial things like that. As for my boundaries, I am the one that is initiating this, so once again, no need to worry."

His wide smile had dropped into a gentle one, fingers still caressing your lip, before moving to your cheek. You bit your lips a bit, before opening them slowly, "Okay." Ears twitched at your answer, crimson eyes filled with a hint of desire plus hesitance, as he bent down a bit, face coming closer to yours. The beating of your heart was so loud, you could hear it in your ears, and you were certain Al could hear it too. The scent of his cologne was making you dizzy- mixed with hints of blood and graveyard dirt. Reflections were seen in both of your eyes, him seeing himself and you seeing yourself. His lips continued to move closer, inch by inch, until they were placed onto yours, soft almost like a butterfly had landed on it.

The glow from his eyes had vanished, closing them as he pushed a bit further into the kiss, making you gasp a bit. A few minutes has passed, as Alastor slowly pulled away, glowing eyes returning to admire you. You felt breathless, despite how tender the kiss was, it had you weak. “Did you enjoy it?” He asked, his lips distracting you, making you forget his question. “Huh? Um..yes…it…was…nice. How about you?” You ask as if out of breath, heart fluttering still. “Surprisingly pleasing.” He said matter-of-factly, but judging from his appearance, he looked more disheveled than you.

No one uttered a word after that, the both of you continuing to stare at each other. “May I do it again?” He whispered, causing goosebumps to form all over you. You nodded, answering his question. His lips returned again, this time with more passion. The gasp you let out allowed his tongue to enter, intensifying the kiss. The weight of his body was on you now, his chest against yours, feeling his racing heart. His teeth bit your lip slightly, drawing some blood, making him hum at the taste as his tongue continued to intertwine with yours. Moaning into the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his back, pulling him closer. The both of you broke the kiss, string of saliva appearing from both of your mouths. Heavy breaths could be heard, as glazed eyes stared down at you, ashen cheeks flushed. "Again." was said from him, lips returning back to you again, and again and again.

-END-

Sinners:

@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic

@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,

@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,

@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao

, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,

@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,

@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,

@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,

@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,

@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,

@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,

@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,

@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,

@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,

@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,

@lousypotatoes @l4zyb0n35 , @midorichoco

@lillyisfreakyy , @alastorthirsty , @yukiinee ,

, @aconstructofamind @angiiiiiiiiie

@pumppkinlynn @erikaafernns , @silverpaw2 ,

@cosmiccandydreamer , @killer-nightmare0 , @visara-valentina

@thereallsaturnstar , @coffee-or-hot-cocoa ,

@fckedupandbeautiful , @alaskathestereodemoness , @fries11 ,

@toneystank-3000. , @doll-babe-a-tron-queenthousand

, @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog , @twistedvanillacoffee

[mygnolia]

LOVE ON A FRESH SLATE ༄ TEASER

༄ SYNOPSIS -› Sim Jaeyun might not have many critically acclaimed films in his IMBD, but if there’s something to change that, it’s his upcoming film, ‘diving in love,’ a fresh summer romance that’s caught the attention of everyone on the internet. The only problem is, no one believes the chemistry will be up to rom-com standards. Maybe he’ll save his career by fake dating his cold-hearted co-star, aka you, to sell it?

༄ PAIR -› actor!sim jaeyun x fem actress!reader

༄ GENRE -› fluff, banter, angst, comfort ༄ TROPES -› enemies to lovers, heavy on the fake dating (i LOVE fake dating) ༄ WC -› estimated 15-20k idk lolz

༄ INCLUDES -› will be added!

༄ RELEASE DATE -› november!

༄ REN SAYS... me when summer also haha get it slate cuz they're actors but also it's e2l so misunderstandings heheheh am i funny (im not) | LIBRARY

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“You’re going to tell me you signed me up for the cult of Scientology, I assume,” You introduce yourself, shaking hands with the man next to Sunoo. 

Once again, there is just one empty seat before Jake Sim walks in, out of breath. “Jungwon, please don’t tell me–” He notices you after he barges in, taking in your poised manner as you wait for him to continue. But he doesn’t. The words die on his tongue when he sees you and the same manager from last week's meeting. 

“Please don’t tell me what?” Jungwon asks, raising an eyebrow as Jake sinks into the only chair left. The latter shakes his head, not wanting to elaborate any further. 

Sunoo sits up, putting his hands together after he finishes the last sip of his drink. “Open up the files, ____.” He motions to the manila folder on the table, and with much confusion, you peel back the cover to find a neat stack of black and white articles. 

Jungwon, who you can only assume is Jake’s manager, gets Jake to lean in and read what’s on the pages. “This,” he starts, spreading out the rest of the articles, “is every article in the past week with a negative outlook on whether or not the film will be up to par with the standards of the 2000’s.”

You scoff, eyes trailing over an article with your face as the cover. “Really? People hate me that much?” Your dry humor really only resonates with Sunoo, who sends you a look before trying to organize the flurry of papers.

“I doubt they’ll keep going,” Jake tries, fidgeting with his ring. Maybe his second rich person problem was figuring out how to get the media to like him again if the movie turns into a failure and he has to scour for another source of income. 

“Unless I solve world hunger, I doubt the media will turn away from the wine scandal any time soon.” Jake considers dropping out and cutting his losses early with the way you comment on your impending future. 

Jake’s manager shakes his head, closing the manila folder and essentially blocking it out before coming up with the worst possible plan in existence. 

“You two can fake date. Then, no one will question your chemistry, because they’ll think you’re in love.” 

There were only so many things you refused to do in your lifetime, but fake dating your co-star made it to the top of your list in record time. 

You shook your head. “Absolutely not.” At least Jake could agree with one thing you said. 

The silence almost turns awkward before Sunoo speaks up in agreement, ignoring you. “I like it, it’ll give them a chance to pretend to bond more. Plus, they’re both young and attractive, and Jake is a change of pace from all of her shitty ex-boyfriends.” If Jake still wanted to jump off a building after hearing their proposition, you’d unknowingly want to join him. 

You cough in your arm, hiding the embarrassment of his last comment before nodding to look at the actor. “You think just because I’m dating someone, it’ll make the movie more watchable?” 

Sunoo rolls his eyes. “I’d much rather watch a rom-com if it was confirmed that the actors found love on set. It’s a good story.” 

Jungwon interjects. “Good publicity.” 

The actor beside you finally speaks up. “And you want to start this arrangement…when?” 

“As soon as possible,” your manager answers, and his response might be some of the worst news you’ve heard in a while. “Hear me out, ‘____ ____ and Jake Sim falling in love the moment they’re casted. It’s fate. They’ve been in love since the beginning. I have to see it, their chemistry will be so good.’ ”

Before you nor Jake are able to come up with a rebuttal, Jungwon adds, “I know both of you can act, and even despite this fake relationship, the movie will be good. But if you can get away from the negative thoughts surrounding the film’s pre-release, it’ll generate so much more hype around it.” 

“Better for your conscience, ____. You don’t need angry Sunghoon fans sending you anymore death threats.” If Sunoo kept airing out your problems like that, you’d drag him out by the ear without any fake boyfriend in tow.

You really think about it, questioning if one PR stunt could get you out of the nepo baby ditch you’ve been trying to fight for years; it wasn’t even that you were bad at your job, your mother just never had anything nice to say to anyone. If anything, she was Hollywood’s actual mean girl.

“Fine.” You agree begrudgingly. 

Jake on the other hand has no idea what he’s getting out of this. How does fake-dating a girl he’s never liked help his reputation at all?

Maybe it’s because he couldn’t find an answer to it, or maybe Jake was comfortable enough asking something so brash in public. “What the hell do I get out of it?” 

You lean back in surprise, not used to hearing him so flustered by something. It was all your fault, Jake thinks as he once again pulls at his hair. 

The room is silent as everyone’s gears turn. Jake puts his hands on both sides of the armchair, about to get up and pretend this failure of a ruse ever existed. “If there’s nothing, I’m-”

“Wait,” you cut him off, eyes still fixed on something as you think. It’s good for you, and mainly you. Jake has a good reputation, people love natural chemistry and love a cute couple even more, and your name would be in summer-y titles for the next two months if your scheme worked out. But him? 

What could Jake Sim possibly want? 

“You want money? Connections? An interview with Justin Beiber?” You try, spewing what every boy would want when they were 13. 

Somehow, his head perks up when he hears his favorite celebrity’s name from your lips. 

“You could do that?” He asks, bewildered. 

“I thought you hated me for having a famous mom.” He stays silent. 

“Look, you’re up and coming. If this movie does well, I’ll send a letter to the top producers in the industry and tell them about how stunning of a performance you gave.” 

It’s a deal that’s extremely hard to pass on–hell, he’s literally getting paid to act in the movie anyways, so it’s not like he loses much if he says yes. But you’re snarky, and although you’re not outright rude, you never seem to be excited for anything, and Jake has no idea why the mood is so sour when he’s with you.

Whatever, it’s not like it’s real, anyways.  

Jake shrugs and pinches his nose bridge momentarily before sighing. “Where do I sign?” 

You thought that Jake had been oblivious to the whole thing as much as you were, but it seems like he knew about a hidden contract. Jungwon fishes out a crisp white sheet of paper from his bag. “You know me so well, and I didn’t even tell you anything,” and his response has you thinking that maybe the actor just knows his manager well. 

Suddenly, the next year of your love life is signed and tucked away into two identical copies for Jungwon and Sunoo, before the two shake hands and smile. “I’m excited for how things will go,” your manager comments before you two leave. 

The moment the door shuts behind you, you let out a long exhale, suddenly finding interest in your manicure. 

“You’re annoying, Sunoo. But I don’t doubt you.” 

The boy smiles and links arms with you, walking to the entrance of the studio building before you both catch wind of the paparazzi. 

A swarm of reporters and cameras catch your casual outfit and sunglasses when you emerge with your manager behind you. Questions bombard you, and you hear amongst the commotion a few reporters who are desperate for their next article to feature you. ‘Is it true that you’ve hated Sunghoon for years?’ ‘What do you have to say about your new film?’ ‘Do you have anything to say about Jake Sim?’ 

You pause momentarily on the way to your car, reconsidering if you should answer any question. “Me and Sunghoon have never had a disagreement, and I know he appreciated the Prada we sent him a few weeks ago.” Smiling at the memory, you choose to answer a few more questions before you have to go. “As for the new film? I’m fairly excited. Me and my boyfriend are more than ready to be filmed together." 

The gasps from the crowd leave you content as you slip into your car with Sunoo. “But don’t tell anyone I’m dating!” You yell out for good measure, knowing that by morning, everything will have changed.

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[natalyarose]

𝒥𝓊𝓅𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒩𝒶𝓀𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓈 & 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 🧞✨💐✩

I've always thought Jupiter ruled Nakshatras (Punarvasu, Vishakha, & Purvabhadprada) to be veryy magical with their themes of limitlessness, expansion, sheer spiritual abundance & power. I'm not sure if it has been talked about before, but something that always comes to mind when I envision Jupiterian Nakshatras or meet heavily Jupiter influenced people, is the concept of genies.

Jupiter's abundance and endlessly giving nature is known to be a blessing and a curse. A Jupiterian can be the sweet, generous, selfless friend who is there when you need them; providing you endless support, refuge & material generosity.

The dark side of this inherently generous 'wish-fulfilling' nature of Jupiter Nakshatras, is the possibility that they enable dark behaviours in others & themselves. Always saying yes, always being available and endlessly giving to the wrong type of cause or person, can make you complicit in the crime so to speak, even if the intention is simply to give, or give chances (Punarvasu's themes of second chances, 'return to the light'). Jupiter Nakshatras entail hugeee lessons regarding purpose (Vishakha, 'the Star of Purpose') & being intentional and wise as to how you use your power and influence (the infamous test of character in Purvabhadrapada 'the man with two faces').

These Jupiterian themes have always made me think of genies- wish fulfilling creatures who are inherently unable to say no to the wishes uttered to them. Having to just sit and watch people wish for dreadful things and just go... 'as you wish'. Obviously in real life, there really is a choice not to feed into others' and ones own toxic patterns but with Jupiterians, the urge to give, to be constantly available to others, can almost feel like it's not a choice. It's energetically intertwined in their make-up.

I would love to gather more examples, but it's 3am here and this was a bit of a spur of the moment thing I had to get out haha- I looked into a few of the most prominent 'genie' roles in movies and as I suspected, every single one features an actor/actress with strong Jupiter influence.

Jeannie from 60s sitcom 'I dream of Jeannie' - actress, Barbara Eden has Punarvasu Ascendant

Kazaam from 90s comedic film 'Kazaam' - actor/basketball player Shaquille O'Neal has Purvabhadrapada Sun

Genie from Disney's Aladdin - played in the live action movie by Will Smith, Vishakha Moon.

This genie theme really makes me think of all of the Jupiterian Nakshatras, but Vishakha especially. A friend of mine who is a Vishakha stellium always tells me about how it is said that Vishakha has the ability to generate 'instant karma'. So Vishakha natives to an extent greater than other Nakshatras will receive the raw manifested result of their thoughts/actions veryy quickly. Much like a genie granting instant wishes.

I was going to mention also that the whole genie archetype also reminds me of Rohini a bit- the wish-fulfilling aspect, the element of fulfilling desires without shame/inhibition. It's a little different in nature, but Rohini Nakshatra's got a similar theme where the native is incredibly nurturing of who or what sets their heart on fire, sometimes to a fault. Rohini is capable of immense growth but can forgo morality/practicality for the sake of immersion in the process of creation & sparking joy. Rohini's philosophy is something along the lines of 'let go of judgement because judgement inhibits creation and disrupts purity'. This is very true, but of course as humans on the divided and dense Earthly plane, we know that having a sense of judgement & boundaries is also important.

That was very wordy, but hopefully y'all see what I'm getting at lol. Although I'm more inclined to associate Rohini with wise old wizard dudes with cool beards & mad but genius scientists lol.

Back to Jupiterians-

I believe that Jupiter Nakshatra's 'remedy' is to eventually realise that they are not a slave to their giving nature, and the power lies in them to decide, & give only to a person, dream, goal or cause that truly is aligned with their own soul's path. Break free from the shackles lol- with wisdom hopefully. Without that element of wisdom, Jupiter can run wild with that discovered power.

Jupiterians struggling with discernment is why Jupiter Nakshatras oppose Venusian Nakshatras (Bharani opposes Vishakha; Purvaphalguni opposes Purvabhadrapada; Purvashadha opposes Punarvasu). Venus masters the fine art of 'necessary cruelty' sometimes ya gotta rip out the weeds, warn off the pigeons and trim the rose bush to make your garden a beautiful, pleasant, luxurious place. Jupiter can struggle with this, instinctively wanting to be a safe space for everyone and everything.

Jupiter ruled Nakshatras also partially oppose Solar Nakshatras (Krittika, Uttaraphalguni & Uttarashadha) illustrating the Jupiterian struggle with putting oneself first. Solar Nakshatras keep their energy strong and vibrantly resounding at their core; wheras Jupiter Nakshatras are kinda messy with their energy (lol, not necessarily in a bad way)- they disperse their energy everywhere, giving & giving. Both Solar & Jupiter Nakshatras deal with themes of limitless reserves energy, but in opposite, contrasting ways.

There's so much I could write about Jupiterians, I love Jupiter energy very much. I really love all of the Nakshatras lol, I mean how could you not? Every Nakshatra holds teachings that are integral to making the world a better place 💕🪷

Thankyou for reading!

[moonreader1010]

Pac- how can you be the b*tch that never loses<3

(the pictures do not belong to me. All rights go to the original owner)

Pile 1. Pile 2.

Pile 3 ^

Pile 1:

Go tell your friends about it (about it)

Go tell 'em what you know, what you seen

How I roll, how I get it on the low (oh)

You have a really bright aura. You should really use it. it will take you to great heights. You have this ability to shed enlightenment over literally anyone. That's your superpower. Your connections are very important. You should work on your tolerance. Try to not get so involved in matters that don't concern you. Be helpful but to an extent. I see you giving A LOT to other people. But please look after yourself first. You are sensitive to certain things. Use this ability. Don't let it use you. Okay?. You need to learn how to balance your pride and when to compromise. I see you leaning toward one side more but bby different situations need to be dealt with differently. Yes balance. Another card is also pointing towards balance. Learn balancing things and you will be unstoppable.

There has been some loss. There is some anger too. And bby it is only contributing towards emotional instability. Don't let it control you. You are made for greater things. You might have felt left out a lot in your life but that's because people don't know what to do with you and your amazing self. You are different. And that's such a good thing no? Why don't you let yourself accept it. You won't fit in and that's because you simply are just better than them. Use it!!!!!!

Your brain is AMAZING. Your Ideas are amazing. You can play with emotions!!!!!! Girlllll!!! You really need to go out there and get it. Period.

Additional- Libra, high achiever, materialistic, 3, 1, affinity, triumph.

Song for you - tell your friends by the Weeknd

Pile 2: a bit 18+

You gotta be a star to jump over the moon so when you touch on me

You're a shooting star (a star), oh yeah (a star)

You know you got somethin' for the world to see and there I go

Still wondering who you are (a star, a star, yeah)

Your friendships are very important. Your communication has so much potential to make you a winner. Why don't you use it? You might love solitude and your own company but bby you gotta get out to play. And to win. Sympathy seems to be something that you know how to use. You have it in you. Again, friendship and community has been highlighted. There is a gift that you have inherited from your ancestors. You also seem to have a power in creating suspense and mystery and it's really attractive. You should use it more. Oohhh I see that you are quite feisty. You are not someone who just simply agrees to anything. You oppose it. You make things interesting. Yum. Are you possessive? Because people really admire it in you. In a sexy way. There is this arrogance that even though is conventionally bad but your arrogance is different. It makes things interesting almost. You give people ecstasy. This euphoric feeling. Very feminine energy from this pile.

Additional - cat, business, money.

Song for you - star by Megan thee stallion (feat. Lucky Daye)

Pile 3-

You came along when I needed a savior

Someone to pull me through somehow

I've been torn apart so many times

I've been hurt so many times before

So I'm counting on you now

Somebody already broke my heart

Straight up I'll tell you that i got very slippery energy. Very teasing. I also had this sudden moment where I got really angry. I feel like this pile is very "good girl gone bad" types. Past wounds. You have been hurt. A LOT. There was an earlier version of you that has been killed. You are an entirely new person. I'm getting very "don't touch or I'll break your hand" energy. Ummm. Baddie. Haha. Anyway, there has been a lot of stress, overworking or like some overwhelming experience. Too much to handle. Or maybe that's what people made you feel, that you are too much to handle or very high maintenance. But what do they know. They didn't deserve you (i suddenly felt like I had to tell you this). So true. They definitely don't deserve you. Maternal trauma. I'm so sorry bby. Heavy theme of transformation. Keep your good fait up bby. Do something for your soul and watch how you win. You have been oppressed a lot and it's time to break free. Don't hide. Despite all this, there is an innocence to you and it drives people crazy. Girlllllll. I got goosebumps. Please invest in yourself. Omg are you seriously okay bby? I'm so sorry. But it's over now. Get up and make sure nobody ever thinks about hurting you ever again. Don't suppress your memories bby. Feel them and let them transform you. Girl you are going to win.

Additional - heart, tears, fox, red, 8th house, scorpio.

Song for you - somebody already broke my heart by sade (this song is like a dedication from you to yourself)

[under-the-stars-au]

How are you feeling now, Bon?

Yeah don't worry, they're fine now, when your tummy is full you can't be mad, that's just science fact

________________

Okay ! Lots of stuff to say here ! There were some details I wasn't sure of about the lore of this mixed UT/ISAT universe, but recently I made myself a little memo of everything and I'm more sure of my stuff. So I made it clear in this one : Chara is here ! And they are here to help....maybe.

Siffrin thoughts and Chara's narration are kinda here at the same time...which must be super confusing to live honestly, but you can still see the difference. I will not develop here why Chara is with Siffrin instead of Frisk, but if you want a small explanation, their wishes mixed together

I personally think that there's a lot of ISAT stuff in this AU and not enough UT, so the next one (the one I really wanted to make for a while) will be more about UT, and it will be out...tomorrow ! Yep, I already started it before I decided to make that one first, so you'll have another answer really soon, whoo oh !

I hope you like this one for now though ! See you soon !

(Also did you notice the new brush I used this time ? I love it honestly, it looks super cool, I think I'll keep it)

_________________

DIALOGUES IN CASE YOU CAN'T READ MY HANDWRITING

1 :

Bonnie : Mh.........

2 :

Odile : Bonniface, I get that you are upset, but can you please be faster ? Even I don't walk that slow

Bonnie : I'm as fast as I can 'dile !...

3 :

Isabeau : Hey, Sif ? Sorry to bother ya but, huh... Could you talk to Bonbon ? I think they might need it...

Siffrin : Huh ? Why ? I'm not really the feelings person of the group

4 :

Isabeau : Listen buddy, I... I don't think I'm the good person to tell you about it. Just...talk to them, okay ? They'll tell you...eventually

Siffrin : Huh... Okay ? I'll go do that...

5 :

Mirabelle : Huh ? Why did we stop ? Siffrin ?

6 :

Siffrin : Heya Bonnie

Bonnie : ...Siffrin. What d'you want ?

7 :

Chara (internally): Oof, wow, such a sweet kid. They even "Siffried" you

Siffrin : It seems that you're still angry since you flee earlier, and that it's...kinda my fault ? I'm not sure to really understand, but huh, I'm sorry, for whatever happened. I didn't wanted to upset you.

8 :

Bonnie : Huh uh. Yeah, sure. I forgive you

Siffrin (internally) : It doesn't sound like they do though...

9 :

Chara (internally) : Stars, that kid sure is difficult ! Just continue okay, they are not worth it

Siffrin : ...

10 :

Siffrin : Hey Bonnie ?

Bonnie : Hum ?

Siffrin (internally) : No, no don't say that. They'll ALWAYS be worth it

11 :

Siffrin : What if I tell you that I still have a piece of Toriel's pie in my secret pockets. What d'you say ?

Siffrin (internally) : In every loop, every fun changes, you party will always be more important. If you have to proceed, it will be with them

12 :

Bonnie : ...Well. First, I say that it sounds super gross to keep pie in your pockets just like that

13 :

Bonnie : ...And then I say that I want it

14 :

Siffrin : There you go !

Bonnie : Thanks...

15 :

Siffrin (internally) : ...You know, it's nice to have new interactions with them. They almost became actual persons again, you even remember their names !

16 :

Bonnie : What ? WHAT ?! Why are you laughing ?! You makin' fun of me ?!!

17 :

Siffrin : No no, just thought you look like a bunny when you eat, a "Bonny" hehe. That's cute

Bonnie : GAASP. So you are makin' fun of me !

18 :

Bonnie : But huh, actually, I'm not mad at you somehow, guess it's because of the pie

Siffrin : Oh ? Really ?

Bonnie : Yeah, it's just that good

Siffrin : Huh, good to know

19 :

Bonnie : Yeah yeah, just go back to your place now. And stop being an idiot !

Siffrin (internally) : I guess they are okay now ?

Siffrin : Haha, okay okay

[myownwholewildworld]

THE WAY TO A GREAT WIDE SOMEWHERE

↪ a the mandalorian x beauty & the beast crossover

main masterlist | read on ao3 | easter eggs pairing: beast!din djarin x f!reader. summary: cursed to spend the rest of his days in Mand'alor, Din Djarin faces a threat that may break his peace: you. -or- a retelling of the beauty and the beast story. a/n: HAHAHA *manic laugh* HI! this has been a long time coming now. first and foremost, i'll start by saying that this whole brainrot was inspired by this beautiful moodboard by the very talented @almostfoxglove, please go see it because it's the main reason i wrote this fic. i have gone crazy trying to link both worlds so i hope some of you see/understand the easter eggs. feel free to come screech at me if you like it because i have been screaming into the abyss for weeks now. love you all, take care! <3 x warnings/tags (beware spoilers): 18+, mdni. set after the events of S2. grogu is BRIEFLY mentioned. if you're a SW purist, this ain't your fic, my friend. the stockholm syndrome is stockholming. beast!din. a fair bit of smut (you know all the usual warnings). sensory deprivation. kinda dom!din. monster fucking (this is a BATB crossover after all, sorry). death of a secondary character. reader is a blank slate. alternating pov. no use of y/n. italics means it's spoken in mando'a OR it's the beast's pov 👀 THIS IS THE WAY. w/c: ~24.3k. (HAHA SORRY) divider by @saradika-graphics taglist at the end 💖

11 ABY

“Take it with you. Don’t let anyone hav―” your father choked on his last words, a chesty cough wreaking havoc in his damp, bloody lungs. “It’ll take you to where you need to go. Find it. And destroy it,” he muttered as his grey eyes, crowned by bushy, white brows, bore into yours.

In your hands you held the device that had been passed down every generation in your family. It had been commissioned by Tarre Vizsla himself over a thousand years ago when he created the Darksaber ― a Pillio star compass to find not a physical location but his most valuable possession. For almost a millennium, your family had been the guardians of it.

And for as many centuries, your Jedi ancestors had been looking for the Darksaber after they had stolen the star compass from Vizsla. That Jedi blood was far too diluted now, just a remnant of what your family once was since none of you seemed to be Force sensitive. But the mission remained despite the passing of time, not so much the reason behind it.

Since your birth, this was all you knew: the thrill of the chase. Never settling down anywhere, never creating bonds with anyone outside of your tribe. You all were wanderers ― nomads who made home of no world. You knew no other life. It was what it was.

The Jedi star compass fit perfectly on the palm of your hand ― it was circular and slightly bigger than a locket. This one though was different, special even, because it was made of beskar, a metal alloy from Mandalore.

Your fingers caressed the lid, tracing the astromeridian lines with the tips, feeling each groove. Undoing the aurodium clasp, you opened the compass to find a plasma-encased supraluminite lodestone, perfectly centred. The plasma in this specific one, however, was not of a shimmering blue, but a deep, stagnant black. Its magnetism was so strong it buzzed, emitting a low vibrating noise.

You tapped the stone with your thumb, and the vibration pierced through your flesh and bone, travelling up your forearm and dissipating into your body before it reached your chest. You quickly removed your thumb, taken aback by the intensity of it all, eyes slightly widened.

“But father, you heard them. It’s already been destroyed. It’s over,” you whispered, tears trespassing the waterline of your tired eyes.

“They lie. Never trust one of them. Those power-thirsty ra―,” he coughed, pressing the wound that stained his clothing to stop the bleeding. You covered his hand with one of yours, the other still holding the compass. “I know we were close, we had to be. Promise me you’ll keep looking.”

“I promise, father,” you hushed, repressing the sob that threatened to tear your throat.

You laced your hand with his, unbothered by the blood, as you watched his eyes become dull, opaque and dead. His lungs exhaled the last breath while the grip of his hand on yours loosened.

You remained there for a few minutes, pain and grief gnawing at you, knelt by his deathbed, tinkering with the Pillio star compass. With your mother taken from you at childbirth and now your father perishing to an enemy, you had no blood relatives left. You were alone, stripped from the comfort of family.

You still had your tribe, but your connection to them was circumstantial. You grew up in their midst, but always felt like an outsider, a misfit who people felt forced to interact with because you were “the daughter of.”

It didn’t matter anyway.

You might not have known why your family kept on looking for the Darksaber, but now you knew why you had to search for it. It was your father’s last wish and that was enough reason for you.

“We must go,” Ashton’s voice reached your ears, but not your brain.

When you didn’t respond, he slowly approached you, kneeling by your side.

“Hey, I know this is hard, but we are really running out of time,” his firm arm wrapped around your waist to help you stand up.

Your knees trembled like a newborn qartuum but managed to stay upright on the soles of your feet. Taking a deep breath, you nodded.

“We need to leave Nevarro. It’s just a matter of time until our covert is discovered. They’ll come looking for him,” your head tilted in your father’s direction, voice flat and emotionless now. Stretching your back, you put distance between you and Ashton. “You find somewhere safe in the Outer Rim to lay low for a while. I need to see this done once and for all.”

“This what, exactly? You heard the same thing I did. Gideon crushed it. It’s over. We can finally live our own lives, find a home, settle down,” he muttered, a gloved hand looking for yours yet not finding it. He sounded so hopeful.

“I know what we heard. But my father… he thinks― thought it may be a ruse. I have to try, Ash. I can’t just leave this life behind, as if everything I’ve done has meant absolutely nothing,” you replied between gritted teeth, frustrated.

“Don’t waste any more years of your life on a wild goose chase, please. Let’s go back to the others. We can―” his hand finally found yours, lacing your fingers.

You looked down at your intertwined hands. It just felt odd, out of place even. Ashton was nothing more than a brother in arms to you.

You shook your head no, pulling your hand from his, breaking the contact, and looked at him directly in the eyes.

“No, Ash. There’s no “we” here. You do what you must, and so will I, simple as,” you rejected the unspoken offer, seeing the hurt consuming his blue eyes.

“What makes you think you can do this alone? Thousands of people have tried for centuries,” he quickly tried a different tactic, but his reproach unfazed you. “Let me come with you at least.”

“No. Our people need you to lead them into this new lifestyle, Ashton,” you refused, not even giving his proposal a second thought. “And you just made it clear, this is not the life you want, but it’s the one I do. Now go.”

Ashton pressed his lips together in frustration, gobsmacked by your bluntness. He’ll be fine, he’ll recover, you thought to yourself when you saw the pain of your rejection finally dawning on him.

“Have it your way then,” and with that, he left.

The compass weighed heavy on your hand and in your heart. But you couldn’t afford distractions nor being delayed by people. Not this time.

19 ABY

Weeks turned into months. And months into years. Eight, to be exact.

The passage of time was unfaltering, but so was your determination. Despite the many dead ends, the several disappointments and the near misses, you never stopped looking for the Darksaber.

There were days, however, that it all felt like an impossible task, that you truly believed that Moff Gideon had destroyed it. You couldn’t accept it though, not when you had spent eight more years hunting it down. It still had to exist. Right?

It was hard keeping the spirits up with no company to hear you vent your frustration. You had started talking out loud to yourself, your voice bouncing off the metal walls of your spacecraft.

Some days you regretted rejecting Ashton’s offer. The man had been nothing but kind to you, loyal too. You had your suspicions about his true intentions, but you never really saw him as anything more than a friend. You hoped that after all this time, he would have found someone who reciprocated him. Ash was a good man and deserved better than what you could have offered him. What you both wanted were two completely different things, incompatible ― he wanted a quiet life, you had preferred an adventurous one.

Given the same option today, however, you were not so sure of what you would have chosen.

Toying with the star compass, you looked through the windshield of the cockpit. Jumping through hyperspace at the speed of light always put you at ease ― the flashing of light as you passed through it left a rainbow of blue hues. The static noise was so calming, you relaxed into your seat.

Your attention returned to the device on your hand. Opening it again, you eagerly watched the metal semicircle twinkle, reflecting off the colours from the Hydian Way. It had not moved for a while, so you had set the course in the direction it pointed towards.

Unsure of the way it was taking you to, you had learnt to just let it take you where it pleased. Like a bantha following its herd on the vast, arid lands of Tatooine, your life for the past eight years had been reduced to following the hands of the star compass, and nothing else. And now, like every single time before, you would wind up in the middle of the great wide somewhere. Or nowhere.

Even if your eyes hadn’t been lazily transfixed on the lodestone, you could not have missed the louder buzzing it was emitting. You rapidly sat up on your seat, your thumb hovering over the stone while your heart jolted up to your throat. As the humming increased, the black plasma inside swirled and radiated a white, shimmering glow.

Only once had you seen it do something like that before, right before finding out that the Darksaber was supposedly destroyed by Gideon. You thought yourself so close to your objective in a stroke of sheer luck, you all had rushed towards the direction it marked and found absolutely nothing.

With blood drumming in your eardrums and heartrate spiking, you faced the panel of your starfighter and touched a few buttons in a trained dance of movements. Then you pulled a lever, and a sudden jerking motion stopped the spaceship on its tracks, easing out of hyperspace.

Back flattened against the back of your padded seat, you squinted your eyes to see where you were. It took you a good moment to recognise the worlds in front of you. But that couldn’t be, made no sense at all. Furrowing your brows, you looked down at the scope in front of you.

No, you were not mistaken. That was Mandalore and one of its moons, Concordia. The compass was vibrating so loud now, you had to close the lid to contain it. Did a double take on the scope, then back out to space.

You knew the story of what had happened here fifteen years ago ― Mandalore had become uninhabitable after the Night of the Thousand Tears. The Empire had made sure of it by brute force and unfair use of fusion bombs and rays, which reportedly left the surface of the planet crystallised and its atmosphere poisoned. No one who had ventured had ever returned, or so the legend went.

The compass hummed louder, still pressed between your hands, as if compelling you to decide, and to do it now. It couldn’t be that the Darksaber had found its way back to its homeworld. It completely defied common sense, the laws of space itself.

Concordia, on the other hand, was more promising, you thought. The best choice out of the worst possible options. Safest too. Probably.

Setting course towards the moon, the spacecraft slowly trudged forward. A loud sputtering sound coming from the thrusters almost made you jump, quickly followed by the incessant beeping sound of an alarm.

“Thrusters stabilizers compromised. Negative power couplers overheating,” the robotic, monotonous voice advised you.

Then your astromech droid, a yellow trimmed R3-D3 unit, started screeching so loud through your headset, you had to remove them.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, taking complete manual control of the helm.

If the couplers didn’t cool down, you only had minutes until these completely overheated, causing an explosion.

Weighing your options, you let go of an expletive. Mandalore was closer, but you feared that the moment you entered its atmosphere, your starfighter, and you inside it, would combust to death. Concordia was further, which meant the possibility of exploding before reaching it was very high.

You were fucked either way. Both were evils, none the lesser.

“Alor (boss), something has entered the atmosphere,” Nau’ul, his protocol droid, announced in perfect Mando’a, with a metal finger pointing out the window.

Din’s brows knitted together, not that anyone could see with his helmet on. His attention drifted to the direction Nau’ul was indicating. The wrinkles between his eyes pronounced as his head tilted.

A small spaceship had breached the atmosphere of Mand’alor, appearing through the greyish clouds with a burning tail following it as it rapidly plummeted towards the surface, leaving a smoky halo behind.

With muscles tensed, Din got up from the chair and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, trying to catch a better glimpse of the type of aircraft that dared to break his peace.

It couldn’t be the New Republic, and he hoped to hell it wasn’t an Imperial ship either. Everyone thought Mand’alor was a thing of the past, a barren planet harbouring no life.

He had thought so too before finding himself adrift in space, injured within inches of his own death. Crippled as he was, his Razor Crest survived the bumpy ride and even bumpier landing, all thanks to the droids aboard. The same droids that had managed to nurse him back to health. Or, close to, anyway.

Through the visor of his damaged helmet, Din eagerly saw the spaceship disappear between the dense foliage and slab stones, nearby the Mines. He waited and hoped to see a column of dense smoke towering above the vegetation, but that vision never materialised. There had been no crash, at least not a major one. Which meant that, whoever was commandeering the ship, had probably survived.

“Fuck. Where’s Mrs. Kri’gee?” he turned around to face Nau’ul.

The protocol droid lifted his arms above his head, running towards the door, panicking.

“Mrs. Kri’gee! Mrs. Kri’gee! Where are you? You’re urgently needed! Report immediately!” the high pitch tone of his robotic voice almost pierced his eardrum.

Din stuck a gloved fingertip in his ear canal and wiggled it to ease the pressure building up in there. Nau’ul was too dramatic and too loud for being a mere droid.

He had not even turned the corner into the main hallway of his decrepit abode, that Mrs. Kri’gee appeared in front of them. Nau’ul got the jumpscare of his life, one of his hands landing on the metal breast piece where a heart should be had he been truly human.

“Mrs. Kri’gee reporting, jatne vod (sir),” replied the IG-series assassin droid, one of her hands flying to her temple to salute him. “How can I be of service?”

“We seem to have visitors. Follow me, gedet’ye (please),” and with no further ado, Din walked almost blindly through the maze of corridors, then down the lift, until the cold breeze greeted him.

The temperature outside was almost freezing, especially in winter. This winter was chillier than usual too, so Din and his droids only came out when it was strictly necessary. Even after all this time, it still surprised him how glacial it was out there. With not even a tiny patch of skin uncovered, Din could still feel the biting cold clinging onto his beskar armour, seeping in through the smallest nook it could find. It could clutch around the bones easily, freezing you in place in a matter of minutes.

Not that he could tell the difference anyway, considering how fucking cold he felt under his skin. How icy it was inside of him, a never-ending snowstorm waging war on his numb heart.

Perhaps he shouldn’t hurry ― if he slowed down enough, and with a bit of luck, the unwanted guests might perish to the unforgiving cold of wintery Mand’alor.

With Mrs. Kri’gee on his heels, Din moved through the terrain as if he was one with it. After many years, he knew the topography as if it was the palm of his hand. Where he could step and where he couldn’t. What paths to avoid at specific times, and which ones were safe to hike, always mindful of the creatures who had withstood the Great Purge.

He might not have many things, but free time was definitely one of them, which allowed him to explore this world he had called home for the last eight years. There weren’t many pastimes in Mand’alor when he was the only human inhabiting it. Maybe that was why he had renamed the droids with more human-like names, to feel less lonely ― only if he could truly feel something.

The emptiness within him had only grown with every passing year on the planet. The curse that ran through his veins had slowly overtaken him, leaving an ever-growing void in his chest. Din could not remember the last time he felt anything ― joy, contempt, happiness, anger, hope, despair. Nothing.

He was an empty carcass, a non-sentient monster merely existing. Sometimes he wondered what the point of it all was, not because of an emotional response but because of pure boredom. But then his eyes would fall on the source of his misfortune, a brutal reminder of how he came to be where he stood, and the lingering questions would vanish. This was the way, his way.

And if that wasn’t enough, he also had to deal with the other side of the coin.

Din trudged along the faded path, now overridden by vegetation, to the Mines. His magnetised boots helped him find his footing more than once, sharp and loose rocks making it difficult to remain vertical. Mrs. Kri’gee, on the other hand, had no issues whatsoever.

Fifteen minutes later, they reached their destination near the Mines, close to a cliff. The lush bushes and thick trees blocked the sight at first, but Din found the perfect spot to stalk the unwelcomed visitors. Down on his knees and through a gap between the leaves, he made out the shape of a T-65B X-wing starfighter ― a pretty old one, at least twenty years old. It could have well served during the Galactic Civil War.

The starfighter could only carry the pilot and an astromech droid, which meant he only had to deal with one sentient being. Could have been worse, Din thought. The prospect of being found didn’t sit well with him though, unsure of why this person had found themselves stranded in Mand’alor, out of all the fucking planets in the Outer Rim.

The Mandalorian tilted his head, trying to get a better look at the person on the other side of the ship ― they were sat on a flat rock with their back towards him, knees propped up, elbows placed on them and crouched forwards. Din stuck his head out just enough to look over their shoulder, good eye squinting ― there was an astromech droid lying in front of them. By the looks of it, it had been fried to death, still sparkling and smoking a little.

Mrs. Kri’gee laid low behind him, still but ready to accept a command. Din waved a couple of signs to the IG-series assassin droid, and it moved silently, gracefully as a loth-cat, to reposition itself northwards, facing the target.

The Mandalorian kept his fist closed, indicating Mrs. Kri’gee to wait, when he saw the person standing up, removing their helmet and taking in a deep, exaggerated breath. It was the side profile of a woman in a bright orange spacesuit, human as far as he could tell. Din’s eyebrows furrowed under the visor, confused as to what could possibly have guided her to this inhospitable planet.

Perhaps he had been alone for too long, only the droids keeping him company for almost a decade, but the sight of you unsettled him. Had he been able to feel something, he was sure an uncomfortable weight would have grounded his stomach.

Kaysh cuyi mesh’la (she is beautiful), he thought ― a simple, objective observation a man could make with only half a vision.

Your hair shined even when the sky was gloomy; your big, bright eyes sparked with frustration; your plump lips fell into a flat line before smacking them with disapproval at your wasted andromech droid. Your fingers curled into your hips while one of your feet tapped the crystallised ground underneath nervously.

“Well, I’m not dead yet, so I guess the air is breathable,” you talked to yourself out loud, sounding almost disappointed. “Stinks like a swamp though, ugh.”

That was a good observation from your part. Stupid, but good. What was your plan if it wasn’t? Suffocating to death? Bit reckless if you asked him. And yes, the sulfuric smell coming off a bog nearby was not great, but there were worse places in Mand’alor to find yourself in. He knew damn well.

He eyed you for a little longer, Mrs. Kri’gee lying in wait. He didn’t need to kill you yet, first he needed to find out why you were here and if you were part of a larger group ― if there was a remote possibility of someone looking for you, he had to know.

Din signalled to Mrs. Kri’gee to come out of hiding but to not attack yet. And so she did promptly. The droid walked out in front of you, startling you so bad you almost fell backwards.

“Identify yourself,” his droid asked you.

You snorted, hand slowly moving backwards towards the blaster pistol in your holster.

“You identify yourself, you little piece of― metal,” you bit your tongue back.

“Nicknamed Mrs. Kri’gee by my Alor. IG-11 assassin droid. Serial Number 730X21G. Manufactured by Holowan Mechanicals in 1 ABY. First assigned to―”

“Alright, alright. Whatever,” you scoffed, fingers curling around the grip of your gun. “What is a droid like you doing here anyway?”

While you were distracted chatting to Mrs. Kri’gee, Din had come out of his hiding place, heavy boulder on hand. Stealthy as a predator, he raised his arm above your head and smashed the rock against your skull with no hesitation at all.

You plummeted to the ground instantly, rendered unconscious in a split second. Towering above you, Din walked around your body and crouched down in front of you. His gloved fingers moved a few strands of silky hair out of the way, following the tiny stream of blood dripping down your temple. The wound wasn’t too bad ― he was sure you’d survive the blow.

“Pick her up,” he commanded the droid, who willingly complied.

In a matter of seconds, Mrs. Kri’gee was carrying you over the shoulder, as if you were a light sack full of gloomroots.

What a banging headache. You were barely able to string two thoughts together.

Eyelids heavy, you did your best to open your eyes. It took you a couple of attempts, but you finally got there. Vision still burry, your pupils widened to adapt to the darkness surrounding you.

The room you were in was all rough, square edges. It reminded you od the inside of a spacecraft with all those panels on the walls. Here though, the cables were hanging out of the electrical panels, snapped and peeled. The scarce futuristic, metal furniture dotted around was broken and upside down everywhere ― the whole space was derelict, abandoned.

It has to be, because this is Mandalore, you suddenly remembered where you were before you lost consciousness. And how did you faint, anyway? How did you get here? Was it the freaking droid?

With a pitiful groan, you tried to reach the back of your head, where the pain was radiating from. To your dismay, your hand didn’t budge one inch. Confused, you looked down and around you, only to find a sturdy syntherope tethering you to the chair you were sitting on.

“What the varp!” You exclaimed, fighting the fetters to no avail.

You rubbed your hands together in the hopes to loosen the grip and slide one hand out, but whoever bound you, had tightened the rope really well. Did that stop you though? No, not one bit. You tried and tried and tried until the skin on your wrists was raw.

You were in the middle of attempting to break free when the creaking noise of the door made you still in place, half hoping to see the assassin droid.

Instead, a Mandalorian walked into the room, and you immediately ceased your endeavours. With a droid you could deal, but with a sentient being… and even worse, a Mandalorian out of all the fucking possibilities.

By the shape of his armour and predatory gait, you could tell he was a man, around five feet twelve. He wore a black body stocking covered by different metal pieces ― vambraces, shoulder pauldrons, breastplate, thigh and shin guards, and kneepads were all made of unaltered beskar. The shiny patina indicated that the alloy had been polished but not painted, as most Mandalorians would have them.

But what struck you as odd was his helmet. Manufactured with the same polished beskar, a black visor protecting his eyesight, you noticed the big crack that ran diagonally from the bottom left, all the way to his right temple. The transparisteel of the visor had also been damaged. It all had been welded back together, albeit by a novice hand.

You stiffened your back as he approached without exchanging one word. Your gaze followed his every movement, wary of the man in front of you. Your tribe instilled on all its members a gut-churning hatred for Mandalorians, although such strong feeling never really deepened within you.

Always mouthing your curiosity, your constant questions as a child were never well received by your tutors. Even your father had a hard time convincing you to hate someone irrationally. It just wasn’t in your nature to hate for the sake of it.

However, the Mandalorian in front of you… well, that was a slightly different story. The bastard had kidnapped you and had the guts to stop in front of you, arms folded, and head tilted. As if you just happened to be there, disturbing his peace.

“Release me now,” you demanded, narrowing your eyes as you leaned forward on your chair. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

A stony silence ensued, leaving you wondering if he was mute.

“Why are you here?” His voice was distorted by the speech scrambler integrated in his helmet.

Repressing a taunting jeer, you stared him right in his eyes ― where you assumed they were, anyway. When he didn’t respond, your eyebrows scowled.

“Are you, like, for real, man?” You couldn’t hide your incredulity. “It’s obvious I don’t want to be here. I didn’t mean to land on this forsaken planet. For all I knew I was about to die, I thought it was uninhabitable! I actually meant to go to Condordia―”

“Why would you go to Concordia? You’re not Mandalorian. Obviously,” he interrupted you, his hand waving up and down in front of you almost scornfully, pointing out your plain clothing.

“I― Well, that’s none of your business, actually. Look― Sorry, what’s your name? I didn’t catch it before you kidnapped me,” you asked with a pinch of rancour tarnishing your voice.

“I haven’t kidnapped you,” he quickly replied defensively. “Just Mando.”

“Okay, Just Mando. Look, you let me go and we both can pretend none of this ever happened. I go on my merry way and you― well, you stay here, doing whatever it is you do,” coming to think of it, you also had questions. You cocked your head, “What are you doing here anyway? When did Mandalore’s atmosphere become breathable again? I thought the planet was completely ruined after the Great Purge.”

“For considering yourself a hostage, you sure ask too many questions. And it’s none of your business, actually,” he snapped back throwing your own words at you with a snarky edge to his voice. “You and the whole universe think Mand’alor is unliveable, and it will remain like that for as long as I live, at least,” his tone turned sombre. “You ain’t going anywhere, I’m afraid.”

His last words shocked you. What did he mean you were not going anywhere? Of course you were. You couldn’t stay here; you had a mission to complete. And Just Mando didn’t seem to be the best company either, the man was so dispassionate you were sure he had a pole up his ass.

“Wait, wait, hold on one varping second. Let’s not rush into making stupid decisions, shall we? I get it, you want to be left alone for all eternity, don’t want anyone to disturb you. I won’t tell a soul you’re here, I give you my word,” you stumbled over your words, panicking at the perspective of not leaving this planet. “Please, I can’t― There are people looking for me,” you lied.

You had not been in touch with your tribe for weeks now. And by tribe, you meant Ash. He was the only one you had been communicating with over the last eight years. Life had been hectic, and you were never the best at keeping in touch.

“Then I’ll kill them if they come looking,” he shrugged, matter-of-factly.

“Wow, okay. Calm down. No need to threaten my people,” you tried to diffuse the situation, although Just Mando seemed pretty calm.

“And just so you know, I’ve just come back from where you landed. I’ve destroyed your engine and the navigation console, so you ain’t going nowhere,” he unfolded his arms, lacing his gloved fingers on his back, quite the measured gesture.

You glanced up at him incredulous, mouth agape while your lungs emptied. You were stranded here, forever, with him. The magnitude of his words had still not dawned on you, when a faster thought made its way through to the surface.

The star compass. Had he found it? Had he destroyed it too? Not that it would be useful here, but it was the last memento you had of your late father. Not that you could ask, anyway.

“Why… why would you do that?” Your trembling voice almost gave way to desperation as you leaned back against the chair.

You blinked fast to tame your feelings, all bravado leaving your body soft and boneless. For once you were speechless, your eyes searching for his under the damaged visor. But you only saw your reflection on the transparisteel, his pose not budging at all.

“Please, Mando. Tell me you’re lying. Tell me my X-wing was not the only way out of this forlorn planet?” You begged, a dense knot forming in your throat, collapsing your airway.

“It is. It was,” he corrected himself. “I can’t let you leave. I don’t trust you nor your word. This way, I make sure you have no other option than staying here for as long as you live. Death is the only way out of here.”

You deflated on the chair, looking at him in disbelief, almost unable to breathe. Although his voice was warped by the modulator, there was no emotion in it. He spoke as if talking about the damn weather, not like he had just clipped your wings forever ― literally.

“I― What… Why are you behaving like a fucking monster? Don’t you have feelings?” There was no edge to your question, you were past subtleties now.

He shrugged again, unbothered.

“‘Cause I am. And I don’t,” was his cryptic answer before turning on his heels and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The door slammed behind him a bit too forcefully for his liking ― a reminder that he would need to ask Ca’nara to grease the hinges. Din then put the latch down to ensure the door could not be opened from the inside.

Without another thought in his mind, he turned around and almost crashed into Nau’ul.

“Master?” asked the protocol droid, dubious, one finger lifted in the air to draw his attention.

“What?” he replied, exasperated. Din just wanted a moment alone ― that conversation had burnt the last energy he had reserved for socialising. If it wasn’t because he could harbour no feelings, one could say he was socially drained already.

“Since the girl is going to be with us for quite some time, I was thinking that you might want to offer her a more comfortable room…” Nau’ul suggested.

The damn droid was more human than he was. Din had not even thought about moving you a different place within his derelict fortress. He had made the once royal prison his home, suspended off the ceiling of Sundari’s bio-dome, or what remained of it. A suitable place for a worthy character like him.

Din just stared at him, weighing his words. Did he have to care about the needs of his captive? She’s not my captive, just a… lifelong visitor, he quickly corrected himself.

“Then again, maybe not,” Nau’ul quickly retracted, dropping his hand to one side, mistaking his silence.

Fuck, I should have thought that, not the droid, he almost reprimanded himself. After so many years in his self-imposed exile, Din had really lost all touch with his humanity. Solitude, along with the curse that plagued his veins, were to blame.

With a grunt, he turned on his heels, unbolted the door and walked right back in, coming to a halt behind you with just a few strides.

“What are you doing?” you asked in a small voice, sniffling.

You had been crying and were now trying to hide it, show him you were unbreakable. He should have felt like a dick but didn’t. Couldn’t, really.

He knelt behind you and removed his vibro-knife from one of his pockets. The blade hummed, vibrating, when it got activated and Din cut you loose, restoring the blood flow to your hands.

“I’ll show you to your room,” was his only explanation to your question.

“My room? But I thought…” the doubt in your words slightly angered him. A fleeting feeling.

Anger? That’s new, he thought, eyebrows momentarily furrowing under the helmet.

“You wanna― you wanna stay here?” he muttered, teeth almost gritting.

“No,” you hushed, wide eyes looking up at him when he walked around the chair to face you.

Unsettling.

“Then follow me.”

Turning on his heels, Din made his way to the door, hoping you would follow. And you did, possibly because you had nowhere else to go.

The royal prison was a cross-shaped structure with several floors. Most of it was completely abandoned, except for the last two levels where he had accommodated himself in this senseless life he lived. The height gave him vantage point, with a good view of the surrounding buildings and further afield.

If it was for him, he would live between wreckage and filth, but his droids had made it their purpose to make the prison somewhat liveable. Not that he cared.

Din looked over his shoulder for one second to see you rub your wrists, eyes focused on the floor. Red lines were imprinted on your skin and for a brief second, he wondered if he had secured the syntherope a bit too tight.

Oh well.

He walked you all the way through a maze of corridors until you reached an elevator which was already waiting to take you up. Din stepped in and then to a side ― it wasn’t too big, but there was enough room for the both of you without having to invade each other’s personal space. You reluctantly followed.

The minutes dragged; the silence heavy although he did not find it unbearable. By the way you fidgeted with your fingers, he knew you did. Despite your discomfort, Mando did not open his mouth ― better getting used to it now, he didn’t want you to think he was the talkative type.

Then a ding announced your arrival to the top floor, and you almost let go of a relieved sigh. Din glanced at you sideways but didn’t catch much of your expression ― you were on his righthand side, and his right eye was completely blind.

The floor was well illuminated, clean and free of debris. It was well looked after, pristine almost. The corridors were empty, giving the whole place a very diaphanous appearance. As you walked by his side, he pointed out a few rooms you might want to make use of.

Arriving at an intersection, Din took the east corridor, ignoring the opposite one deliberately.

“What’s on that corridor?” you asked curiously.

You were too damn perceptive. Too perceptive for your own good.

“The west wing is forbidden,” he grunted abruptly, a growl even, stopping in his tracks to face you. “Forbidden,” he repeated slowly so the words, and the threat in his modulated voice, would sink in.

His reaction took you aback, but he could see you subduing your fear. You would not let him see it ― how scared you really were. You might not want to show it, but he could sense it.

The thought of you sniffing around the west corridor should make him panic, but his reaction was a mechanical one ― once upon a time, he would have cared excessively, worryingly even, if you discovered what he was hiding. Now, however, it wasn’t that he didn’t care but couldn’t.

The reason behind it, the reason why his emotions had become sterile and why a beast lurked beneath his skin, was stashed away in the west wing.

And it was his life mission to prevent anyone from finding it.

When Just Mando opened the door to your new cell, you were pleasantly surprised to discover it was an actual bedroom. The walls were still polished stainless steel slabs, so it wasn’t the coziest place ever, but it had a double bed with fresh linen, a nightstand, a wardrobe, a chest and one single chair. Everything was immaculate white, not one speck of dust in sight. There was another door that you assumed would lead to an ensuite bathroom.

You entered the small room and walked towards the bed. Opened the drawers of the furniture not really hoping for anything, so your eyebrows furrowed when you discovered they were packed full with clothes. Weird, but good.

With a little jump you sat down on the bed, testing its springs and overall comfortability. It was strikingly soft and smooth like a cloud, beckoning you to lie flat on your back and drift away to your dreams. You were not expecting that ― seeing how the rest of this floor was decorated (it wasn’t), you thought there would be one single spartan bed which would be hard as ironstone.

You were even amazed to see a floor-to-ceiling window. An actual, big, massive window that faced the outside world. And there were no metal bars covering it. Incredible, really, that he would trust you with one. Not that you were planning to escape, considering how desolate the planet was ― where could you go? Nowhere.

Looking up, you saw Just Mando leaning against the doorframe, arms folded while his biceps flexed against the fabric of his body stocking. He had been watching you the whole time you were inspecting the room.

Suddenly you felt the weight of his eyes on you and that made you feel skittish. You couldn’t see them, but you knew his sight would be intense, drilling and thrilling. What did he look like under that helmet? Would his expression be as impassible as his tone? Did he really not care at all or was that a façade he could afford because you couldn’t dissect his face?

“So… can I come out of my room? Or are you going to lock it too?” you asked tentatively, hands laced on your lap, challenging him with the soft curve of your raised eyebrow.

“It’ll stay locked until I know you can be trusted with freedom,” he straightened his back, hand on the doorknob.

“You call this freedom? Wow, okay,” you paused, letting that spoken thought sink in. “Is it because I asked about that corridor?”

Just Mando stilled under the doorframe, head cocked. Unknowingly, you bit your bottom lip, your teeth massaging the plump pillow underneath.

He didn’t answer.

You had had enough years of silence, the quietness of your cockpit being your only companion. Only broken by the fleeting moments when you met civilisation, you had unintentionally craved that connection. You just hadn’t realised it until you were faced with the possibility of being accompanied by someone for the rest of your life.

Even if that someone was… well, him. Guessed you would have to make do.

“You’ve already condemned me to live here with you, Just Mando, for-fucking-ever. You’ve destroyed my ship, so it’s not like I can go anywhere, can I?” you pleaded with him. “This whole planet is already my personal jail, don’t make it even smaller or I’ll go crazy.”

In your begging, you had gotten up and cut the distance between you. The tips of your shoes bumped into his weathered, leathered boots. He didn’t move, not even one inch ― completely unbothered by your proximity. Your face was so close to his helmet, the steam of your breath almost fogged up the transparisteel of the visor.

And, for a second, he seemed to consider your petition. Or so you had liked to think. You measured each other up, no one giving in or up.

“Until you can be trusted,” Just Mando remarked. The Mandalorian was the first to finally retreat, taking a step back into the hallway. “It’s up to you how long that takes.”

Flabbergasted, you looked at him in disbelief.

And then he shut the door. The click of the lock quickly followed.

Hours had gone by until you heard the door unbolt.

A different droid, an astromech one, greeted you.

“Beep boop, beep!” it happily chirped.

Luckily you knew enough Binary to unsderstand that it said, “dinner is served”.

“I don’t get it. I’ve already had dinner. Don’t need to be here,” Din complained, arms crossed at chest level, manspreading on a chair in the dining room.

“Try to be understanding, sir. The girl has lost her freedom,” Mrs. Kri’gee almost reprimanded him.

“Least you could do is keep her some company, Alor,” Nau’ul chipped in.

Din scoffed, irritated. And such irritation surprised him. He shouldn’t feel anything but a void in his entrails.

Nau’ul picked up on his unusual display of feelings as quick as he did.

“Master… Have you thought that perhaps this girl could help you break the spell?” the protocol droid ventured, almost stammering towards the end when Din snapped his head back to look at him.

If looks could kill, Nau’ul would have dropped dead.

“Fucking nonsense. You heard the witch, the spell she cast,” Din muttered, jaw so clenched it almost hurt him. “Stop looking for solutions and just accept it. After eight years, you should have already giving up your futile hopes.”

“Someone has to keep the spirits up around here. Depressing enough as it is,” the droid retorted.

“If you allow me, Master, Elsbeth’s exact words were, ‘until you find your maker once more’, and that is up to interpretation,” Mrs. Kri’gee added.

Din remembered very well the cursed that Morgan had spitted in his face before he took possession of the Darksaber and sunk it in the witch’s belly.

I condemn you, Din Djarin, to an eternity of loss, Of emptiness, apathy and thorns. At full moons you will be at your worst, With nobody to keep you warm. You shall walk this Galaxy alone, Until you meet your Maker once more.

They still resonated inside his head, clear as the pale ale in the jug in front of him.

“It dims more and more every day, Alor. The Darksaber is losing its glow. You’ve been ignoring it for years, but I fear that if you do nothing about it, well…” Nau’ul voiced his worries, hands twisting ― a very human-like gesticulation.

Mando had spaced out, not listening to one word. He only snapped out of his trance when the door creaked, announcing Ca’nara’s and your arrival.

The bags under your eyes were screaming for some rest, which apparently had been evading you. He had given you enough hours alone to get some sleep and freshen up, so why hadn’t you? If you looked so miserable, that was entirely down to you, not him. Of that much he was sure.

Din straightened his back, sitting up properly, while Nau’ul rushed off his feet to serve you the food the droid had prepared. With a flourish of his hand, he presented you with his creation.

“It’s tiingilar, a Mandalorian stew of meat, vegetables and spices. It’s hot, very hot, be careful,” the protocol droid warned you.

From across the table, Din could have sworn he saw your eyes watering, then you blinked a few times, grabbing the spoon.

“Oh my stars, how many spices have you put in here?”

“Oh, you don’t like spicy food?”

“Well, I do, but it smells so spicy, I’m about to cry, phew!” you swept along your waterlines with your index fingers, making a point.

“Alor prefers it this way. I can prepare something else…”

“No, no. It’s fine. I’ll eat it. Thank you…?” You dragged your words, looking for a name.

“Nau’ul,” he replied. “Anything you need, please ask.”

And then all three droids disappeared from sight, leaving you both alone in the dining room.

You glanced up from your plate, eyeing him above your spoon while you blew on it to cool it down.

“Are you not eating, Just Mando?” you raised an eyebrow, inquiring.

If Nau’ul was still in the room, Din would have snarled at him. Instead, he folded arms again and shook his head no.

“I’ve already eaten,” he explained dully.

He couldn’t―wouldn’t―remove his helmet in your presence, or anyone’s. Not even his droids had seen his face in all the years they had been together. Din had been raised to follow the Mandalorian Creed and even though he was no longer part of the Bounty Hunters’ Guild, he still believed. It was intrinsic to him, to who he was. Or had been. The only thing that kept him true to himself.

“Because you can’t remove your helmet in front of me. Right?”

Din tilted his head in surprise. He did not expect you to know that. Were you acquainted with the Mandalorian culture? And if so, why? You were not one, he could tell. But what were you? Your accent was a mixture of different ones, so he could not pinpoint where you originated from.

“This is the Way,” he found himself saying. It had been a long time since those words last escaped his mouth. “Where are you from?”

“Oh, from here and there, everywhere and nowhere…” Then you took the first spoonful of the stew and started coughing almost instantly. “Fuck, this is spicy,” you whispered, tears in your eyes, as your hand lunged forward to eagerly down the drink.

Din almost smiled at your severe reaction. The corners of his lips began to curl up but quickly dissipated, his own body fighting against such act of rebellion.

“So you’re a nomad?” He asked with certain curiosity in his voice, while he leaned forward to pass you the jug full of ale to top up your drink.

“Yes. I don’t have a homeworld. I don’t even know where I was born, we moved around so much my father didn’t even remember,” you went on almost absentmindedly, pouring the beer in your glass. “What about you, Just Mando?”

“Why do you keep calling me ‘Just Mando’? It’s just Mando,” as soon as he said it out loud, he understood the joke. He pressed his lips together, slightly amused. “I see,” he mumbled.

You laughed as if it was the best joke ever. The warmth in your laughter was vivid, hearty, compelling. Like a melody it filled the air ― suddenly the room was not as bare as before. As cold either.

“So? Were you born here in Mandalore, Mando?” the smirk coiling your lips told him you were teasing him.

Din debated whether to open up or not. Whether to tell you the truth or a lie. But Nau’ul was right, if you were to spend the rest of your lives together, lying was not a good start.

“I was born in Aq Vetina, but was raised in Concordia,” was his succinct answer.

Your eyes unsuccessfully searched for his under the visor. Din could tell you wanted to press him, get more information out of him, but that was as much as he was willing to share today.

“Eat up. It’s going to get cold,” he urged you, wanting to leave so he could be alone.

“So bossy,” you whispered to yourself, rolling your eyes to the back of your head, before attacking the tiingilar.

Nine weeks later

You turned to the next page of the book on your lap, your mind completely captivated by the story of the pages in front of you. Books were scarce in this day and age, but Mando had managed to salvage a few after years of rummaging through the rubble. This one in particular was a storybook for children ― a story about a Mandalorian fighting the Mythosaur down in the Mines.

You were immersed in it, curled up in your bed with a thick duvet and a few pillows around you. Your room was not bare anymore ― you had decorated with a few trinkets you had found in your day trips to the outside world, with Mando as your guide. The fear of the first week had slowly eased, giving way to a new sense of comfort.

Forgotten was your thirst for freedom. With the passage of time, you learnt that Mando was not joking when he first said death was the only way out. And since you didn’t want to die, you slowly had embraced this new way of life. You had made friends with the three droids and had really tried to form sort of friendship with Mando.

The Mandalorian was a tough nut to crack. He was not keen on showing emotion, so much so you even wondered if he was capable of feeling anything. You had noticed that, many a times, he relied on Nau’ul to show him how he should act or react. A droid teaching a human how to be human ― unfathomable. Perhaps all these years alone in Mandalore had taken its toll on him.

And so you liked to think that you were somewhat helping him reconnect with that side of him you thought long gone. By ‘helped’, maybe you meant ‘forced’, but Mando had thrown you in this situation, so now he had to put up with you.

The door to your room opened suddenly, startling you so bad you almost threw the book at Mando.

“One of these days you’re gonna give me a heart attack. Don’t you know how to knock?” You screeched, hugging the storybook to your chest and burying yourself under the duvet ― you were only wearing a shirt and your underwear.

“Are you not ready yet?” you had grown used to the exasperation in his voice.

“Ready for what? It’s only half seven in the morning, Mando!”

“You wanted to visit the Living Waters in the Mines and see for yourself if it really is a Mythosaur’s lair, remember? Since you don’t believe a damn word of what I say,” he scowled, still under the doorframe.

“Oh, shit! You’re right!”

How could you have forgotten? You had been insisting for over two weeks now, and only yesterday did he capitulate. You were no Mandalorian, so shouldn’t be in such a sacred place, but you managed to convince him that it would do literally no harm to anyone if you visited.

In your excitement, you jumped out of bed, forgetting you were half naked, and looked for some clothes to put on.

“I’ll… I’ll be waiting in the parlour,” he muttered and disappeared into the hallway.

Ten minutes later, you were outside, on your way to the Civic Center. As you approached this new-to-you, unprobed area, the destruction around you made your stomach churn. The Great Purge and then years of neglect painted a gruesome picture in front of you. Inside was even worse, although you couldn’t see much considering how dark it was.

You followed Mando diligently ― he had been here before, so you trusted his instinct. You stepped where he did and remained silent while you descended into the ground.

After a few more minutes, a humid, warm cave appeared in sight. There were massive pillars holding the crumbling ceiling, and piles of debris everywhere. Stairs led a path to the Living Waters below.

“This is beautiful,” you mumbled in awe, looking around you.

The place was eerie and silent as a tomb. Seeing it with your own eyes, now you could understand why people would believe in the existence of a mythological creature.

There was a plaque on a stone nearby and you got closer to read it. However, the writing was in Mando’a, so you cocked your head to look at Mando.

“What does it say?”

He walked towards you and stopped right behind you. His proximity sent a warning shiver down your spine. You ignored your body’s reaction, focusing on the words you didn’t understand.

“These Mines date back to the Age of the First Mand’Alor. According to ancient folklore, the Mines were once a Mythosaur lair. Mandalore the Great is said to have tamed the mythical beast. It is from these legends that the skull signet was adopted and became the symbol of our planet,” he relayed, his voice ricocheting between the bare walls.

“And you are sure you’ve seen it? Mandalore the Great lived, what, hundreds of years ago? In all that time, you’re telling me, you’ve been the only man to witness the rise of the beast?” One perfect eyebrow raised into your forehead, a smirk curling up your lips, as you taunted him.

Although you couldn’t see, you liked to imagine the frustration distorting his features. Lately you had wondered who the man under the helmet was, but you knew you would never find out. Mando took the Creed very seriously, too seriously.

“I did,” he replied concisely. “I don’t care if you don’t believe me.”

“And what were you doing in the water anyway? It does not look very inviting.”

“I had to redeem myself,” you could tell he hadn’t mean to tell you that, because he nervously adjusted his posture.

“Why?”

You were like a loth-wolf with a bone ― you wouldn’t let it go that easily.

“I had broken the Creed and had to atone for it,” his voice lowered, uncomfortable with the topic.

“How did you break it?”

“Will you ever stop asking so many damn questions?” he growled, evading your probing.

You lifted your hands up in the air in a peaceful gesture, but not without a subtle grin on your mouth. You loved driving him crazy, it was one of the little fun you could have in this place.

“Alright, alright.”

You bent down to grab some flat stones off the ground and practiced your stone skipping skills. That was until Mando’s big hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you mid-throw.

“Stop that, you’re going to awaken the beast,” he snarled, pushing you close to his chest a bit too forcefully.

“Oh, come on. Gimme a break, Mando. There’s no Mythosaur, you must have imagined it.”

“There is and I didn’t,” his grip loosened, and you took the opportunity to throw another stone. “Fucking quit that attitude now,” he warned you, grabbing you by both of your wrists, your hands flush against the beskar breastplate.

Your pelvis was sweetly pressed against his, your thighs touching his. Even with the beskar pieces, you could feel all his edges, his― Shit. His manhood resting just above where slick heat was gathering in your core.

You laughed to release your own tension ― your head snapping back, exposing your neck to his eyes.

“Oh, wow. You’re serious,” you managed to say between laughs, ignoring how close you were to him. Ignoring how wet your pussy was.

“Of course I am. You don’t unders―”

The sound of water abruptly moving forced both of you to look in the direction of the pond. Something enormous had risen, taking up the whole airspace, and water cascaded down its sides.

You froze in place, your mind rushing to come to terms with what you were seeing, as you looked at the gigantic figure towering above you. The water kept falling, so you couldn’t really make the shape of the monster underneath. But in that moment, you knew Mando had not imagined jack shit. The Mythosaur was real. Very real.

Mando pushed you back and put himself between you and the imminent danger. Above his shoulder, you saw horns sticking out and a big pair of eyes staring you down. Its skin was covered in scales and small horns, giving it a very reptilian appearance. The Mythosaur was massive beyond comprehension, and you could not, for the life of you, visualise it being tamed or, worse, ridden.

Time stilled and so did the beast. Its eyes were transfixed on you ― no, on Mando. As if they were measuring each other up, as if they were communicating somehow. Since that was impossible, it was obvious you were imagining things.

Before any of you could react, your heart pounding manically and your breath hitching, the beast went back down below the water level, and a massive wave dashed towards you. Within a matter of seconds, the Mythosaur was gone, and you and Mando were soaked to the bones.

Mando reacted before you did, turning around and forcing you to walk back.

“Let’s go, now! Move!”

In the safety of your bed, after a hot, steamy shower, you let your mind drift back to the moment in time where Mando had held you close to his chest earlier that day. How your body had unwillingly behaved to his closeness, how you ached for him to reach below your hips, right between your thighs…

With a soft moan, you gave in to the desire that had been pooling low in your belly for a while now. Your fingers dipped under your underwear, finding that sweet bundle of nerves in your wet slit. Your index tapped at your clit a few times until you stroked it ― electricity shooting up your spine.

That felt so good, you did it again and again and again, while your brain came up with different scenarios where Mando was giving you hell. With half-lidded eyes and lips parted, you smothered the beating nub with your thumb, two other fingers finding the entrance to your pussy and submerging in your wet heat.

You picked up a relentless pace, imagining they were Mando’s thick fingers, as the first orgasm in a long while started to build up inside you. Your own hand made you whimper, teeth sinking in your bottom lip so hard you almost drew blood. Your back arched involuntarily, stroking your pulsing clit more harshly now, your fingers reaching further in.

The squealing noise of the door opening alarmed you, your orgasm evaporating into thin air. You just about managed to remove your tantalising hand from your panties and throw the duvet above you. Panicking, you looked at the door.

Mando was under the frame, so still you thought he was a statue. You had tried to conceal what you were doing, but the rigidity of his posture told you he had seen enough.

Your cheeks reddened, your face on fire at the realisation of being caught masturbating. By none other than the protagonist of your wet dreams.

“Mando! I told you to fucking KNOCK!” You screamed at him from under the quilt. “You can’t just walk in like that!”

When you didn’t hear the door close ―because you were not expecting an apology from him―, you peeked above the duvet.

The Mandalorian had not moved one inch, and you really feared he had become immobile forever. But the tent on his groin showing through his body stocking told you otherwise.

And then he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. It was the first time he had trespassed the doorframe, you noticed. Butterflies filled your stomach and your lungs as he approached the bed you were lying on, your widened eyes looking for his unsuccessfully ― always unsuccessfully.

Mando didn’t say one word as he removed his gloves, coming to a halt by your side with his shins pressing against the bedframe. When they dropped to the floor, your eyes drifted right up at him, searching for clues, anything that could be crossing his mind.

His naked fingers were the first time you saw his skin, a bit of him. He was real, and he was right in front of you, caressing your cheek. You found yourself closing your eyes and leaning on the palm of his hand ― a tender gesture amidst your unresolved sexual desire.

Mando tilted his head, and you understood. An unspoken petition that you willingly granted. Driven by your lust, you scooted over to the other side of the bed, making room for him, dragging the duvet with you.

“Nuh-uh,” he clicked his tongue as he knelt on the mattress after having kicked his boots.

He yanked the duvet off you, exposing you to him with just your shirt and underwear.

You leaned back against the mountain of pillows and looked at him doe-eyed ― then your sight followed his right hand as it landed on your pubic bone. You pressed your lips into a fine line, swallowing a moan at his touch. His fingertips traced your wet slit over your panties.

“What were you doing, hm?” he husked, his long finger dragging against the garment.

“I, uh… well…” you stammered, unable to look for the words.

“Were you touching yourself?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded.

“Were you close?” a sliver of care transpired through his modulated voice.

“Yes,” you cooed.

“Sorry, mesh’la (beautiful). Let me help you with that,” he offered at the same time his fingers dunked under the waistband of your panties.

You melted into the mattress, audibly moaning, when he stroked you. Your eyes shut to focus on the pleasure his fingers were expertly working on you, sliding through your slit a few times, from your thudding clit to your dripping hole ― your clit hitching between his fingers every time he traced them back up.

He worked your flesh with his bare digits, and after a few minutes, his index and middle fingers went back down to your hot entrance. He tempted you with the tips but didn’t go in ― you were tiptoeing on the precipice of your pleasure.

You whimpered, annoyed.

“Please, Mando―”

“Din. Call me Din, mesh’la,” he hummed, the tip of his finger circling your entrance.

“Please, Din,” you blurted out, eyes flying open and transfixed on his visor, begging.

You let go of a pitiful groan when Din―you liked how his name rolled off your tongue―finally gave you what you wanted, what you needed. Two of his thick fingers dove in your seeping pussy, slightly parting your walls in preparation―hopefully, if you were lucky―for his dick.

First slow, then a devilish rhythm his fingers imparted on you. The orgasm quickly built up again, Din’s dexterity beckoning you to climb to the hilltop. And you did, you let yourself feel all the pleasure he was giving you until it was too much, your clit raw and overstimulated by his precise thumb. You reached the top of the mountain and jumped into the abyss underneath. The wave of your climax washed over your, drowning you ― your cunt spasming around his fingers while your knees pressed together.

When you opened your eyes again, all tearful due to immensity of your frenzy, you were relieved to find that Din had released his throbbing erection through the zipper in his body stocking―you didn’t have the patience right now to unclasp all the armour pieces, you needed him now.

The sight of his engorged dick made your mouth water. The girth and the length of it should have made you flinch, but instead it made your pussy wet itself a bit more. It had the perfect size to fill your insides to the brim. Din’s hand moved up and down on his shaft, slowly pumping himself although he was already hard.

You lifted your hand towards his manhood, and he removed his to let you touch him ― for a second you were fascinated by the soft swaying of his cock. Then you wrapped your fingers around it and Mando grumbled, sitting on his heels, manspread for you as a tasty offering. He was a sight to see ― knelt and sat on his heels on the mattress, fully clothed, helmet on, armour hugging his body, and his erection peeking out through the zipper, leaky and throbbing just for you.

Giving him a few pumps, you looked up at him with a smirk. And before he could complain or stop you, you came closer to him and gave the plump head a lick, then sealed your lips around his leaking glans.

The groan that bubbled up his throat spurred you on to bob your head down, taking half of his pulsing length in your mouth.

Din’s hand tugged at your hair abruptly, pulling you off his twitching dick.

You glanced up at him confused.

“I can’t―I don’t think I can take a blowjob without blowing my load, mesh’la. I need to fuck you now,” he was honest with you.

It was understandable. He had been stuck here for at least eight years, which meant that he had not laid with a woman for at least as long. You would have lost your mind too if someone hadn’t touched you in that time.

“Come on then, fuck me, Din,” you mumbled, laying back down on the pile of pillows so your upper body was propped up.

You spread your legs, making room for him. Din swiftly shifted, dragging himself into position.

It was a fucking sight; one you had been dying to see. And he was finally there, all cozy in between your thighs. He parted your legs, resting the back of your knees on his shoulders. He pushed your panties to a side, leaving you completely exposed.

You couldn’t see, but you knew his eyes were focused on the prize―your damp, puffy folds, clit twitching and hole begging.

“Been wanting some pussy for a while now,” he confessed in a grumble, head tilted back when the tip of his veiny cock slipped up and down your damp furrow.

“Here I am, take what you need.”

How altruistic of you.

His mushroom, precum-covered head caught on your slick entrance and Din bucked his hips a little, only the tip smoothly going in. Your heartrate spiked, your walls imploring for the full length of him to clench on. And then, Din thrusted in harshly, pushing his cock in down to the hilt in one smooth jolt. You both howled in unison at the intrusion ― his a deep, guttural moan, yours a high-pitched one.

Mando held onto your knees on his shoulders as he started with the slow sway of his hips impacting on the back of your thighs, building the perfect pace. His dick dragged along the right spot inside you as he jackhammered you into the pillows, another orgasm gathering in your core. Din’s rhythm became frantic, frenzied, to the point where he had to let go of your knees and lean forward, his hands holding onto the rattling headboard.

Mando fucked you hard, drilling you like a man starved. You could feel him stuffing you full, his hard dick disappearing between your swollen, greedy pussy lips. Reaching up, you held onto his arms above you, fingers wrapping around his elbows. Your body rocked up and down on the bed below him with the force of his unrestrained charges.

Your cunt couldn’t take it anymore ― it contracted around his girth, announcing your second climax, which quickly overtook your senses. With stars in your vision, you wailed his name, now fisting the bedsheets as you came, a never-ending wave making your twitch under him uncontrollably.

“Fuck, I… Fuck,” he growled, his hips bucking and stuttering erratically at the sight of your fucked-out expression.

He was close, you knew by the way his dick constantly pulsed inside you ― he just needed a bit of prodding. That was your signal to clench your walls around him, squeezing him as hard and snug as you could, clamping on his thudding cock, never wanting to let him go.

That was his undoing ― you felt Din’s warm, thick spend painting your inner walls, his steely cock convulsing with the last waves of his release.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Din between your legs, his dick still buried inside you as it softened. The inside of his visor was fogged up and you doubted he could see much.

“I didn’t mean to come inside, I was gonna pull out―”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. He didn’t need to worry about that.

His helmet tilted, but whatever question lingered in his mind, he didn’t ask.

His thumb lightly pressed your relaxed clit with gratitude, massaging it softly, before he pulled out and your pussy released his shaft. That gentle stroke ignited your nerve endings, slowly coming back to life. His thumb then went down, gathering the cum your pussy was releasing, and shoved it back inside you.

You bit your bottom lip to stop a needy moan.

“Wanna go again?” you asked, grinning. Offering.

Din laughed. He fucking laughed. You had never heard him laugh before.

“Sure do, but I need a minute, mesh’la.”

Every night for the next two weeks Din found himself stranded in the corridor leading to your room, like a lost, thirsty man looking for water in the harsh desert of Tatooine.

The internal struggle was always the same ― he shouldn’t seek you because, after all, you were his prisoner. You were stuck here with him because he had forced you to, giving you no other choice. Sure, he had not imposed his presence on you―quite the opposite, in fact―but it still seemed wrong to take advantage of you like that.

But then he would see you come out of your room, almost as if you knew he was marooned there, and would approach him with caution. Willingly you would take his hand and lead him to your nest, erasing any doubts he could have about your eagerness. You were as keen as he was ― fucking had become an entertaining pastime. And a calming balm for the beast within.

It was the same dance every night, without failure. And tonight had been no different, except for the hushed “I want you so badly, Din” that had dropped from your parted lips as you rode the last wave of your orgasm, a blissful expression softening your features.

As he stood outside of your door, back towards it, Din wondered what you had truly meant. Was it just a benign slip of tongue or was there something else behind it? He hoped for the first, because he couldn’t afford the second.

Feeling something―anything―was out of the question. Even if he wanted to, didn’t matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t. Elsbeth had cursed him to an eternity of apathy, and it had worked ― over the curse of the last eight years, Din’s feelings had dimmed, diminished and then disappeared, while his inner monster became more powerful, feeding off his emotions like a leech sucking blood out of its host. Mando had tried to feel to keep the beast at bay ― would even make the droids try to anger him in silly competitions, but the dull sense in his chest just grew bigger and bigger, like a tumour rotting his entrails.

Din couldn’t remember what happiness felt like ― he had a barren wasteland for a heart. So cold were his insides, he even thought all his organs were covered in beskar. That was what brought him back to your room every night ― your warmth, how it would seep through the cracks of his skin, warming up a part of him that he thought dead.

Tonight, he had allowed himself to really feel your body against his ― helmet still on of course, you both had been stripped naked for the first time, your skin rubbing his, heating him up. Whether he would admit it or not, he craved you. Yearned for your warmth.

With a shake of his head, his feet finally unglued from your doorstep and sauntered towards the west wing. A single light at the end of the corridor twinkled, snuffing out the moment he stepped below it.

He swung the door open to a room he had not visited in a very long while. Din preferred to pay no mind to the source of his emotional detachment, but Nau’ul’s words had been nagging him for weeks now, an annoying reminder scratching the back of his brain.

“It dims more and more every day, Alor. The Darksaber is losing its glow.”

He had to see for himself.

The room should have been dark if it wasn’t for the light the Darksaber’s blade emitted. Din trudged towards the display stand in the middle of the empty space, where the Darksaber rested under a glass case. Two metal, U-shaped pins held the Darksaber upright.

An electrifying, white glow encased the black blade, but it was certainly fainter than what he remembered. Significantly fainter. It had taken him a few years to understand that the Darksaber was the vessel of his curse ― as his feelings dwindled and the beast grew fonder of control, so did the light of the Darksaber. He was not sure though about which one caused the other to wither away.

As he stared at it, Din pondered what would happen the day the light from the Darksaber would flicker away. Morgan had died before he could fully understand the idiosyncrasies of his malediction. At first, the frustration of the unknown had only driven him mad, especially when the full moons would bloom on the night sky, leaving him at the mercy of his curse.

The first time he had transformed, bathed by the white light of Concordia, Din thought he was dying. The burning sensation, the bones breaking and fusing back together, the stretch of his skin, the blood becoming cold in his veins and his mind spiralling out of control… He hadn’t died, but he sure wished he did. Only at dawn was he able to gain back control, so exhausted he just laid on the dirt near the Civic Center for an entire day before finding his way back to the royal prison.

Only with the insight of time did he decide it did not matter. The end was the end, and if that was the way, then he would greet it.

Din sighed, his eyes dry under the helmet. Looking around and knowing himself on his own, he carefully removed his helmet, wincing in agony, and placed it on top of the glass case. He pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose in an attempt to clear his mind, one hand resting on the glass.

Eyes shut for a long minute, he ended up fluttering them open. His reflection greeted him ― a terrible, gruesome sight, a face he almost didn’t recognise anymore. The scar that ran from the left of his chin diagonally to his right temple had distorted his features ― his chin slightly dented, the left corner of his mouth raggedy, the flesh on his upper left cheek mildly sunken around the scar, his crooked nose even more angular and his split eyebrow giving him a permanent frown. And then his right eye, completely blinded with a white discolouration covering his iris and pupil.

He could still feel the blade of the Darksaber melting his beskar helmet as Morgan pressed it against him. It hadn’t completely cut through the Mandalorian alloy, but the fire filtering through had burnt his skin, leaving an everlasting imprint on his face.

Din remembered the heat, the panic building up and the sizzling sound of his skin as it thawed like ice under the sun. The smell of burnt skill still haunted him sometimes when the helmet became too overwhelming.

The damaged tissue was thick but extremely sensitive ― every time he pulled the helmet off his head, the fabric inside would drag against the scar tissue, making him flinch in pain.

Shaking his head to release his mind from such memories, Din stared at the Darksaber for longer than intended, lost in his train of thought. For the first time in ages, he wanted to know if the curse could ever be broken.

Until you meet your Maker once more.

That had a pretty definite sentence to it. Death was the only way out.

“I didn’t see you last night,” you mumbled, repressing the need to add an ‘again’ to the end of your sentence.

You had noticed that there were certain nights when Mando would vanish, wouldn’t visit you at all. You wouldn’t see him in the morning either and if you asked any of the droids, they were as evasive as their master.

You still didn’t know why and every time you prodded him about it, his answer was…

“Had stuff to take care of.”

You sighed, pressing your lips into a thin line. The idea of slapping him had its appeal.

“Are we still going?” you quickly changed subject, not wanting to be disappointed with him today. “I’ve not really asked you for anything in the three months I’ve been here.”

You watched his gloved fingers drum on the metallic surface, helmet tipped to one side as he considered your words. You wanted to believe that in the time you both had spent together, Din’s undaunted façade had softened a bit. His replies had become less snappy, his posture slightly more relaxed, and his hands way more caring as they canvassed your skin every night.

An invisible force had been towing you towards him, his gravitational pull irresistible. Din Djarin was a challenge to you, a puzzle you had started putting together. He strived so hard to remain indifferent, it was now an exciting game to make him feel. The only downfall? You were falling for him. Perhaps him being the only man to walk this planet had something to do with it, you had no other options. Also, you knew that fucking the brains out of each other every night would eventually lead you here.

Considering that you had a lifetime to spend on this world, letting yourself feel for Mando was something you could afford. And even if he didn’t want to show it, you were positively sure he was not as apathetic towards you as he let on.

“Alright. I don’t see the harm,” he accepted.

You mumbled a “yes!” with a smile crooking your lips as you pushed the chair back to stand up.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

You rushed out of the room to run to yours and change. The winter was receding, but the cold was still bitter and nippy, so you decided to put on appropriate gear. A few minutes later, you darted towards the lift, where Din was already waiting.

Couldn’t help yourself, you had to smile at him, the softness of your grin reaching your eyes.

Din cleared his throat, face facing forwards to avoid your orbs meeting his.

The way down in the elevator was soundless, but you had grown used to his silence treatment. The short journey to the crashing site was as tranquil as the trip down the lift. Mando was truly a man of few words.

When you caught a glimpse of your T-65B X-wing starfighter, you overtook Din and ran towards it in excitement.

“Careful there! The ground is slippery, you’re gonna―”

Before Mando could finish his warning, you recreated what his next words were going to be: you slipped on an icesheet. Waving your arms so you wouldn’t lose your footing, you ended up falling face first. You managed to partially stop the fall with your hands. The rocks underneath slashed your winter trousers, cutting your left shin.

By the time Din had gotten to your side, you had already stood up.

“You okay?” he asked with worry in his voice.

You nodded, smirking at the preoccupation he was showing.

“Yeah,” you lied. If he knew you had hurt yourself, you would be turning around and returning home empty-handed.

“Be more careful, will you? The ship ain’t going nowhere,” he snarled once he knew you were fine.

You rolled your eyes at him before strolling to the aircraft. Your old X-wing had seen better days ― the glass of the cockpit was smashed; vegetation had grown over the body. Moss covered most of it, painting it green instead of white. When you peeked inside the cabin, you realised it was flooded, all electrics wet. It was truly done for ― if you ever had any hope of leaving this planet, it would not be aboard your X-wing.

Din stood watch as you foraged for the item you were here for. After a few minutes, you located the star compass under the seat in the cockpit, drenched. Looking over your shoulder to see where Mando was, you opened the compass and water leaked everywhere. The black lodestone was static, unmoving ― maybe it just needed to dry off. Despite how damaged it was, you hoped it would still work. You were not planning on using it, obviously, but it was a reminder of your old life, one that now seemed very far away.

You couldn’t say you missed your previous life. The constant travelling had taken a toll on you in the last few years, having almost lost sight of searching for the Darksaber. Now that your feet were back down on the ground, gravity keeping you centred, this new life was not so bad after all.

“You found it?”

“Yeah!”

You quickly clasped the lid back down and jumped out of the cockpit. Perhaps you had lied to Din about what you were really looking for, but something in you told you not to tell the truth. So, when he asked you that morning why you wanted to go back to the shipwreck, you simply lied, telling him you were looking for your family’s locket ― a relic that had been passed down for generations.

The object was small enough to pass for one. You waved it at him quickly, not really showing it to him, before you shoved it in one of the pockets in your vest. Luckily Din didn’t ask for it, otherwise he would have realised it was made of beskar.

“Let’s go back then.”

“You’re bleeding,” Din’s fingers grabbed you by the elbow, yanking you back before you crossed the door to your room.

You looked down, having forgotten about the wound on your leg. You shrugged, downplaying it.

“It’s nothing, I’ll just take care of it now.”

“Like hell you are,” he growled with clenched teeth while dragging you inside.

He only let go of your elbow when you were by your unmade bed. Din stopped right in front of you, hands on hips. He nodded to you, commanding you to remove your trousers so he could see.

Your eyes rolled in frustration and clicked your tongue.

“It’s fine, Din. Don’t worry about it,” you dismissed him with a wave of your hand.

“I’ll decide if I have to worry or not.”

And, without prompt, he pulled down your trousers in a swift movement, leaving your legs bare. You huffed but let him help you out of them and remove your boots. Mando signalled you to sit on your bed and so you did. Din knelt in front of you, grabbing your hurt leg by the ankle until your heel was resting on his bent knee.

He inspected the wound for a minute after having removed his gloves. His fingertips burnt your skin where they ghosted over it.

“It’s not too deep, just a scratch.”

“I told you it was nothing. You have some unresolved trust issues, Din,” you joked, slightly leaning back with the heels of your hands flat on the mattress.

You couldn’t see but knew his eyes squinted under the visor.

“I’ll go get something to clean it. Wait here.”

Mando walked out and you took the chance to remove the uncomfortable coat. A minute later, he had returned with a clean rag and a small container with lukewarm water. He knelt in front of you again, grabbing your leg, and dutifully cleaned the wound.

You couldn’t help but sigh at the feathery touch of his fingers on the back of your knee. His proximity was enough to lighten your need for him. Also, being only in your underwear and a shirt while he was knelt between your legs did not help at all. Your imagination was already running wild ― and so your legs parted slightly, almost involuntarily.

Din’s attention shifted from the wound to your core. He tried to hide he was being distracted, but the helmet kept tilting to one side so he could have a better look at where your thighs met.

You chewed on your bottom lip, slick warmth pooling in between your legs.

“Din,” you hushed his name, your hand searching his so he would stop cleaning the wound.

The Mandalorian didn’t need much prodding after that. He towered above you rising to his feet, his hips at your eye level. You knew he was hard already, so couldn’t ignore the call of the siren.

With rigid steps, he walked towards the chest and placed the container dow. He scrunched the rag so the water dripped back into it. Soon enough, he was in front of you again, clean rag on hand.

“Do you trust me, mesh’la?” his modulated voice was low and husky.

You nodded vehemently.

“I want to try something different this time,” he murmured, the rag twisting in his hands. “But you gotta promise me you’ll behave for me.”

“I will,” you promised, breath hitching in anticipation.

“I’m going to blindfold you and remove my helmet. But I have only two ground rules: you can’t take it off and you can’t touch my face. At all. No excuses. Are we clear?”

A rush of lustful excitement ploughed through your veins. You found yourself nodding again, your neck hurting.

“Use your words, cyar’ika (beloved).”

“Yes. Crystal clear, Din,” you mumbled, widened, almost adoring eyes staring at him. You hadn’t missed the endearment term, although he seemed to not have noticed.

“Good,” he curled one finger at you.

You sat back up, hands laced on your lap patiently waiting as Din blindfolded you with the damp rag. He secured it with a very tight knot on the back and made sure three times that it would not go anywhere.

“If you break your promise, I’ll have to kill you,” the threat was very real, not even a hint of joke in it.

Your mouth went dry and your clit irremediably pulsed ― your pussy was already wet and warm for him. You shouldn’t get off on a death threat, but apparently Din could reduce you to a slick mess just like that.

“I-I won’t remove it. You have my word. Please.”

“Be a good girl for me and lay down on your back,” he commanded you and you happily obliged.

Your heartrate spiked as you heard Din discarding the beskar pieces over his body stocking. Maybe you were too eager, but he was taking too damn long. Then a hissing sound told you his helmet was gone.

This was fucking torture. You wanted to see him, to see the face of the man who made you wet with just a few words. It was cruel of him to impose something like this on you, such a prohibition. However, you understood what his Creed entailed and respected it.

Hated yourself right now for respecting it, but you did.

Din placed his hands on the back of your knees and lifted your legs up, the soles of your feet resting on either side of his naked hips. The warm palms of his hands caressed your ankles, massaging them briefly, before travelling up your calves and inner thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Unceremoniously, his fingers curled around the hem of your panties and pulled them down your legs; you couldn’t see but were sure he had thrown them away.

The Mandalorian exhaled audibly the moment his hands landed on your knees and pulled your legs apart. You squirmed, knowing he was devouring you with his eyes.

“Din, please, just―” you whimpered, moany and needy, anticipating.

“Shush. Don’t be so impatient, mesh’la,” he chastised you while stepping back.

That was the first time you listened to his real, manly voice. It was deep and raspy, surly yet sweet.

Your feet, no longer supported on his hips, dropped to the ground.

“Go on your fours,” he talked you through the position he wanted you in as you obeyed. “Now lean down, rest that pretty face of yours on the mattress for me.”

With your perky ass up in the air, you felt very exposed with your inner thighs pressed together and framing your swollen pussy like a pretty picture just for him.

One of his fingers traced your wet slit and you had to stop yourself from wiggling your hips until his finger was partially inside you.

“Look at her, all drippy and puffy for me. She knows what’s coming, doesn’t she? That’s why she’s so fucking wet,” he hummed, shuffling behind you.

You couldn’t see him, but you were damn sure he was on his knees at the feet of the bed.

Din placed his hands on your ass cheeks and parted them, the skin in your sticky furrow stretching while his thumbs caressed your labia. Your cunt was on full display, and you could feel the cold air of the room against your damp, sensitive skin.

“At last, I can claim her as mine,” Din whispered, his hot breath fanning on your pussy now, sending shivers up your spine.

You moaned, finally understanding what was coming.

He didn’t keep you waiting. Din’s tongue lapped your whole pussy in one go and your entire body trembled at the wet touch, his beard prickling your skin. Covering your mouth, you swallowed a pitiful whimper while your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. Mando’s broad hands squeezed your ass, grounding you, as he leaned forward again to drink from the fountain of your pleasure.

His tongue dipped in your creamy slit and stroked it slowly, deliberately loitering around your clit, but never really paying it much attention. He kissed your swollen lips, making out with them as if they were your mouth, the tip of nose intimately caressing your perineum. With the help of his fingers, he splayed open your quivering cunt, your hole accessible to the apex of his mischievous tongue.

Din licked you for minutes on end, ignoring your pulsing clit on purpose. The tension inside you coiled almost uncomfortably, so intense it would snap at any given moment. His devilish persuasion was relentless, more so when he would introduce his tongue in your very core.

You bucked your hips against his mouth, grinding. Desperate.

“Din, please, please, here,” you begged, slipping one of your hands down your belly and in between your legs.

You parted your slippery pussy lips, your clit hitching between them, showing him exactly where you wanted his goddamn tongue.

“Here, please,” you insisted, teary-eyed, at the edge of your patience.

“So impatient, mesh’la,” he chuckled behind you, still on your fours for him.

Finally, his lips latched onto your clit, and you whined out loud, pure elation running through your veins at the sweet suckling of his mouth. His teeth grazed the sensitive nub, and you saw stars behind your eyes, head slightly tilted backwards as you mewled until your throat felt raw.

Din sucked on your clit harshly at the same time two of his thick fingers found their way to your oozing hole. You screamed a resounding “fuck” at the perfect intrusion. The combination of his tongue and his digits were more than what your nervous system could take. Lick, pump, lick, pump ― the perfect rhythm making your toes curl, your pussy clench and your clit set ablaze.

The whole pussy-eating-from-the-back situation was too much ― his fingers ever so tantalising, you surrendered. Rubbing your cunt against his mouth, you moaned his name as the best orgasm of your life almost rendered you unconscious. You came on his mouth while Din just sipped from you, drinking all your discharge as if it was the last drops he would ever taste.

You could only hear your heart beating in your eardrums, all your senses overwhelmed. You were so out, you had almost forgotten the rag blindfolding you.

“You’re gonna come again for me, mesh’la,” only then did you realised his fingers were still inside you.

You panted, gathering your thoughts.

“I don’t think I can,” you mumbled, entranced.

“Oh, you can and you will,” he groaned, accepting the challenge.

And with that, his wicked lips pressed against your cunt, and he started all over again. As it turned out, he was fucking right. His tongue and his fingers were working you so well, there was no way you could resist. However, this time, there weren’t two fingers stuffed in your whole, but four. Your walls were so outstretched it should have been painful, but it wasn’t ― he had made sure to get you ready, pliant under his dutiful care.

“I wonder if you could take him. Bet you could,” Din whispered in a moment of respite.

“Huh?”

All thoughts dispersed when the second climax spread across your entire body, leaving you exhausted; a pitiful, sweaty mess on the bedsheets.

“Turn around and lay down. I’m gonna fuck you stupid,” the crudeness of his words should have made you frown but instead you smiled, completely blissed out.

Din made good on his promise. On your back and with your legs parted, you heard him moving around until he was between your thighs. Then he leaned forward, his hands on either side of your shoulders to keep his weight off you, and his hard shaft dove inside your cunt with no resistance. When he bottomed out, he snapped his hips back and then forth, until he was rutting into you like a man on death row.

Your hands held onto his back, your nails digging in his skin. You wanted to move them up and sink them in his hair so badly, your palms were itchy with longing. He had said you couldn’t touch his face; he hadn’t said anything about his hair. Hoping he wouldn’t notice your intentions, your hands drifted up his back, arriving at the nape of his neck.

So close to burying your hands in his hair, so fucking close…

“Don’t,” he growled at you, the snapping of his hips against yours unforgiving. “The fucking audacity. I. said. don’t. fucking. touch,” he punctuated every word with deep, sharp thrusts.

You winced and gasped at the depth of his dives, your mouth shaping a perfect O, back arched off the mattress below you. Every stab of his dick kissed your cervix, and you just couldn’t stop moaning uncontrollably. The mild pain quickly blossomed into ecstasy; your skin electrified with pleasure.

Suddenly you felt his mouth ghosting over yours; his unfiltered, gruffy grunts were music to your ears. You reached up, wanting to steal a kiss from him to taste his lips for the first time, but he slithered back.

“You don’t respect boundaries, do you?” Din rumbled.

His voice should have had a tinge of anger, but instead it sounded… amused?

“You have had a taste of me, it’s only fair I get something in return, Din,” you bargained breathlessly, but got no reply. “Please?”

Imploring for a measly kiss from your captor while he kept on fucking you. That had to be a new low in your book.

You couldn’t see him as he jackhammered you into the mattress, but knew he was debating. Whatever inner debate he had, the side you were banking on won.

“You keep your hands on my back at all times. Yes?” One of his hands moved to your neck, his dextrous fingers wrapping around your throat. “Or I’ll―”

“Kill me. I know. Elek, Alor (yes, Master),” you whispered in Mando’a, breath hitching.

His mouth came crashing down on yours, teeth colliding in a very messy kiss. His tongue sought yours with fervour and sucked it into his mouth. He tasted like you.

You couldn’t help but moan in midst of the sloppy kiss, your heart finally content at his small yet meaningful surrender. The grip of his hand around your neck softened but didn’t dissolve, adding another layer of excitement to his unabating thrusts.

“Gar serim, cyar’ika (that’s it, beloved). You’re so good, so fucking good for me. Warm, tight pussy always ready for me when I need her. She never disappoints,” he maundered, your brain spiralling with his praise.

Praising your cunt, not actually you, but you would take anything he would give you.

A few minutes later, the breathy groans of your making out along with the squelching sounds of your lust filled the air, quickly followed by the loud moans announcing your climaxes. Your cunt clamped on Din’s dick―a promise you’d never let him go―and he blew his load inside you. The tackiness of his cum filled your insides as his cock pulsed one last time and his lips pecked yours.

Din dropped to your side, panting with exhaustion, and you just laid there pondering all the decisions that had taken you there.

You’d never let him go.

When the fuck did that happen?

“How long does winter last here?”

“A good part of the year, around six months,” he replied dryly.

He was aware of the fact that you had been trying to get words out of him for the past week. Make conversation, talk about his story, his past, his interests. See if there was any common ground between you. But Din couldn’t bring himself up to actually share personal details.

And every time you tried, and he would dodge your attempts, he would see the disappointment painted across your face. And every time, something unknown would uncomfortably stir within him. He suspected you had started to harbour feelings for him ― and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t reciprocate you. Didn’t want to break your heart.

It was his fault, really, for seeking you out every night. You were so giving and him so greedy, he just mindlessly took what you offered without giving you anything in return except for a few orgasms and a good time.

“What did you do last winter? Bet it was boring being home with just the droids…”

Din knew very well what answer you were expecting: It was. Your presence has been a great improvement. You make my days―and nights―more bearable.

But instead, he shrugged.

“Dunno. Kept myself busy with stuff,” he muttered frugally.

He kept on walking before you, making the way back home after a quick stroll around to breathe some cold, fresh air.

The Mandalorian did not expect to be attacked by a snowball, which hit the back of his helmet. He quickly turned around.

“What the hell are you―?”

Before he could finish his question, you hit him again with another snowball, dead centre on his visor.

“You are such a prick, Din Djarin,” you snapped between gritted teeth, patting another snowball between your gloved hands. “Would it actually kill you to be a bit more open, hm?”

This time he saw the attack coming and was able to duck, avoiding the next snowball.

“Are you mad?”

“Yes, I’m mad, you fucking idiot!” you yelled at him, trudging forwards with another snowball on hand. “I’m mad for you, but either you’re fucking blind or you’re a cold-hearted jerk.”

Little did you know he was actually blind in one eye, but it didn’t seem to be the time to point it out.

The sudden love confession caught him off guard. You were not supposed to say that. You were not supposed to feel that way, not for him.

Din remained calm as you cut the distance and tried to smash the fourth snowball on his covered face. His fingers gripped your wrist before you were able to do so.

“You’re just confused, mesh’la. All the sex is blindsiding you, but you really don’t feel anything for me,” he reasoned.

You looked at him as if he had slapped you and took a step back.

“Of course, because you, the freaking Tin Man with a dead heart, know better than myself how I feel. Un-fucking-believable, honestly. Go fuck yourself, Din,” you scoffed, pushed him to one side and walked past him.

Din saw you disappear through the sliding door, while he stood there in disbelief.

What the fuck had just happened?

You kind of expected Din not to show up at your door tonight, but his absence in your bed stung either way. Sure, you had told him to go fuck himself, but now with a new―horny―perspective, you would prefer if he fucked you instead.

Infuriated with him, yourself and the situation, you sat back up on your empty bed. You reached for the drawer in your nightstand and opened it, grabbing the star compass inside. Fidgeting with the aurodium clasp, you wondered why the fuck Din didn’t open up. After three months and a half with him, you had thought you had been able to break through his armour ― the figurative one, not the real one.

Every time you tried to talk about your relationship with him, Din would shut you out or wouldn’t even engage in the conversation at all. He was more stubborn than a falumpaset, and that was saying something. Despite his indifference, you believed that, deep down in that cold, dead heart of his, he cared for you. Maybe he didn’t love you, but at least cared for you.

You didn’t even know if you loved him, anyway. Infatuated was, most probably, more accurate, you’d like to think. Most days you pushed that thought to the remotest corner of your mind, not wanting to consider it. Because, after all, you were his prisoner ― you might forget it some days, but the reality was that Din Djarin was your captor. So maybe it wasn’t love ― perhaps it was just a survival mechanism. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Amid your pondering, you almost didn’t realise that the hands of the compass had moved, and the lodestone was humming, the plasma inside slowly swirling around. Your heart jolted in your ribcage, almost dropping to your stomach, when you finally paid it attention.

“Shit!” you exclaimed, jumping out of bed.

You had hoped it would work once it fully dried, but you were not expecting it to be actually functioning. It seemed to sense the Force emitted by the Darksaber, but that couldn’t be possible. If the Darksaber was here, in Mandalore, Din would know―would have told you. Right?

No, he wouldn’t have.

With that thought in mind, you put on some more decent clothes and cracked open your door. Carefully, you peeked in the corridor to confirm the coast was clear. It was close to midnight, so you hoped everyone―Din and the droids―would have gone to rest.

Tiptoeing through the hallway, you followed the path the star compass was pointing to, only to find yourself in the west wing after a few minutes. You knew you shouldn’t be here, but the compass hummed louder, vibrating on the palm of your hand, as you turned another corner. Looking up from your family’s relic, you saw a door at the end of the hallway.

“BEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEP BOOP! BIP! PIP!” Din’s astromech robot, an old R2-D2 unit, screeched at you loudly, skidding and coming to a halt in front of you. It even had a red light flashing at you.

You almost threw your heart up there and then, the little robot giving you the biggest scare of your life.

“CA’NARA!” you told him off as your heartrate slowed down. “Fucking hell, you almost killed me, little devil.”

“BEEP! PIPIPIPI!” the droid beeped at you, going around you in circles.

“I know I shouldn’t be here, sorry!” you whispered, “I-I’m a sleepwalker!”

Ca’nara seemed to calm down, only for Nau’ul to appear in scene.

Great, fucking great.

“Ca’nara, what’s going on?” the protocol droid turned the corner, almost bumping into you. “Oh! What are you doing here?”

“I- Uhm, I was just telling Ca’nara that I’m a sleepwalker. He literally just woke me up. I didn’t mean― you know I cause no trouble, Nau’ul,” you pleaded with the affable droid.

“Of course, of course,” he took a couple of stiff steps back. “What’s that on your hand?”

Fuck. You looked down, coming up empty with a lie.

“I don’t know. I literally just woke up, I don’t know where I got it from,” you stammered a bit, but the droid didn’t pick up on it.

“I’ll take it. Alor will know what it is and where it belongs,” Nau’ul extended his hand towards you.

If you didn’t give it up, it would arouse suspicion. So, unwillingly, you passed it on to him.

“Where’s he?” the question slipped your tongue before you could refrain.

“Alor is… indisposed, miss. He needs to rest,” he replied cryptically as you both walked back to the main corridor where your bedroom was.

“Indisposed? Is he sick? Is he okay?” you instantly worried.

“He’ll be better in the morning, fret not,” he paused in front of your room, and you opened the door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nau’ul,” you mumbled before closing the door behind you.

What a varping disaster. Nau’ul had confiscated your star compass, which meant that Din would eventually see it. If it came to it, you were not sure what you would do. And you still didn’t know what was in that room, why the compass had gone crazy as you approached it. But you had a pretty good idea. Chances were, the Darksaber was on the other side of that door at the end of the west corridor.

Sighing, you sauntered towards the big window in your room. Two perfectly aligned full moons dominated the night sky, their white, sparkly glow bouncing off the walls. It was a beautiful sight.

Something in the path below caught your attention. A metallic reflection. Your eyes drifted down just in time to see Din running towards the Civic Center, as if a thousand ghosts were on his heels.

You frowned, confused. Where was he going at this witchy hour? Wasn’t he sick?

A scary thought formed in your head. Were you under attack? Had Ash come looking for you after several weeks without returning his messages?

Heart pounding with worry, you darted to the door and then the lift. Whatever threat was coming, you would face it with him. With such resolution in mind, you followed his trail.

Your concern for him skyrocketed when you arrived at the Civic Center and saw nothing but pieces of his armour scattered around. You snatched the shin and thigh armour off the steps to the main door, only to look up and find more bits spread around the entryway.

This made no sense at all. Why would Din dispose of his armour? Something was wrong, very wrong, but you were not under attack.

You gathered all the armour pieces in your arms while calling his name but heard nothing except the whistling of wind passing through cracks and crannies.

Suddenly, you felt the need to look down the stairs to the Living Waters. A hunch rooting in your core, wrapping around your heart. Then a faint, painful growl came from underneath and all your senses flared alive.

What was Din doing down there? In the Mythosaur’s lair?

Panic hiked up your throat as you hiked down the stairs, the animalistic snarl louder now as you drew nearer. At the bottom of the steps, eyes fixed on your shoes, you dared to glance up.

His armour fell from your arms on to the ground, clattering. You were not prepared to see what you found.

Din was half curled up on the floor, naked and dragging himself towards the water. Only he was way bigger ― almost seven feet tall, his body much more muscular with chiselled, blueish veins across the whole of him, hands big as paws with his nails digging the dirt underneath.

You took a step forward, catching a better glimpse of him. Then you truly saw ― his skin had a viridescent tint to it and had started to scale. Rugged lumps raised from the skin on his back, tiny bones protruding through. No, not bones ― small horns, like those of a reptile.

Not like a reptile. Like a Mythosaur. Only smaller than the beast you saw a few weeks ago.

With a guttural bellow, he removed his helmet, throwing it to on side as he crawled towards the rippling water. His head was crowned by thick, short, greyish curls ― exactly what you had imagined.

“Din?” you whispered, taking a precautious step towards him, one hand extended in front of you to appease him.

His head snapped around at the sound of your voice.

You gasped at the sight of him. What first struck you was the scar across his face, one that would perfectly line up with the mended crack on his helmet. It ran diagonally through his rugged features, distorting them and hugging that crooked nose. His teeth seemed slightly pointier too. The next thing you noticed were his blown, bloodshot eyes with pupils as big as his sclerae.

Not eyes, one eye ― the right one was completely discoloured, covered in a white sheen.

He still looked like Din, but… not really.

The vision in front of you should have scared you. Even more so when Din stared at you, and you saw nothing in his expression ― he didn’t recognise you. Whoever, or whatever, this was, he wasn’t the man that had kept you company for the last few months.

Logic dictated you should run in the opposite direction. Instead, you propelled forwards towards him, knees skidding on the dirt and landing by his side.

The warm touch of an alien hand grounded him for an ephemeral instant. The bitter cold crawled under his scaled skin, rejecting the heat like a limping animal avoiding the helping hand of a human.

He snarled, creeping back and away from you, as if your mere proximity was a threat to him.

Because it was.

“Din, I’m here, let me help you,” you besought, dragging your knees towards him again.

He didn’t know who Din was. Where he was or had gone. Did he ever exist? The Beast didn’t know―didn’t care. So he growled again, but his futile attempt didn’t keep you at bay. Guessed you had a death wish, only that could explain your blatant refusal to his rejection.

Both your hands fell upon him, like warm blood spilling and enlivening his senses. For once the cold running wild through his veins minimised, giving way to a hot flush that was foreign to him. The sudden warmth surprised him ― but what shocked him the most was how soothing it was, how easy was for him to crave your touch. A primal need.

The Beast had forgotten what warmth was, having been cursed to a lifetime of coldness for as long as he could remember. Crazed by this newfound feeling, he slowly sat back up on the ground, eyeing you like a predator watching his prey.

Your hand reached up to him to cradle his cheek and the Beast closed his eyes, that warm feeling running down his neck, wrapping around his dead yet beating heart.

“You’re so cold,” you mumbled as you cut the distance some more, your chest nudging his side.

Another heatwave flashed through him ― your warmth beckoning, your body too inviting. He wanted to dive in, to let your warmth surround him, make him surrender. He craved it so bad, so fiercely, the Beast bowed down to sink his forked tongue in your mouth ― unannounced, unrequited.

You moaned at the intrusion, your hands lacing on the nape of his neck, and that only spurred him on. He gave in to your warmth and gave up his restraints. Growling, he plundered your mouth as he forced you down onto the ground.

Towering above you, his tongue slipped out of your mouth to graze your neck, and you shivered under him. Biting your chin, he returned to your lips to kiss you, to suck out your warmth to replenish himself. Like a leech he drank from you while his rough, broad hands roamed your body.

“Din,” you mewled.

He didn’t like this Din whose name you were moaning. So he kissed you, not wanting to hear it again and tugged at your clothing. Impatient, he almost tore your garments apart and only relaxed a little when you were completely naked beneath him.

Pressing his bare body against yours, he revelled, soaking in your heat. But there was a part of you that was hotter, and he could sense it ― like a tracking fob, he pursued the warm feeling as he slithered down your frame.

The heat pulsing from between your thighs called him home, hypnotising. You pressed your knees together and he snarled, his sight darting to your glassy, dreamy eyes, silently distraught at your denial.

He leaned down over you to graze one of your nipples, smothering it raw to show you what he could do to you down in your balmy core. His demonstration worked, because the next time he coaxed your legs apart, you showed no resistance.

So down he went on you, fingers splaying out your puffy folds to display the focal point of his desire. Like a thirsty animal his bifid tongue darted out and swept the length of your damp slit in one slow, sweet sweep. He howled into your pussy, besotted, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he devoured your seeping cunt. Warmth poured from your clit, and he latched onto it rather harshly, finally finding the beacon that reeled him in.

“Fuck, that― Mhmm,” whatever you were going to say died in your lips as a moan hitched in your throat and your body trembled.

A rush of liquid fire met his tongue, and he accepted your offering as your thighs quivered around him ― the strength of your release eased slowly, but his tongue didn’t.

His fingers found the warm cave he needed to nestle in. But before he could do that, before his brain got fucked out into oblivion, he had to prepare you to take him. He massaged your leaking entrance one digit at a time until you were sweetly stretched around four of his fingers.

You whimpered with the first pump and slowly you eased into it, into the feeling of being full to the brim. He licked and flicked your throbbing clit, the hot nub driving him wild. Your inner walls tightened, announcing another climax, and he pulled it out of you with his fist still immersed in your pussy.

Once you came down from your high, the Beast unburied from between your thighs and loomed over you. Your half-lidded eyes and fucked-out expression only made him harder, hotter. He hungered for the moment your bodies would connect; the moment he would finally feel only warmth running through his veins. The moment the cold was forgotten, albeit only fleetingly.

The tip of his cock nudged at your pliant entrance, and he trailed the head up and down your dewy furrow a few times. Your eyes blew open the moment he poked at your hole, parting your flesh, and you looked down at his dick kissing the mouth to your cave.

“Din, I don’t think― Oh, holy FUCK,” you mumbled something uncoherent afterwards, head tilted back and your teeth sinking in your bottom lip as your pleading metamorphosed into moaning.

His whole frame blanketed yours as he supported his weight off you by placing his forearms to either side of your head.

Slowly, inch by inch, he buried himself in you, suffocating heat radiating from where you two met. He growled, an animalistic bellow bubbling up his throat as he felt your walls swallowing him, sheathing his throbbing cock. And when he was fully embedded in you, buried almost down to the hilt, you whined as he remained still ― your walls adjusting around him. He was maddened by the warmth of you.

Only when he felt you relax around him, did he start pumping in and out of you. His mind went blank as his sight transfixed on yours and your foreheads touched, another bridge between you. The Beast rutted into you, first paced, then madly, as he stared into your soul. Your body rocked up and down underneath him, your back arched so your nipples caressed the bare skin of his chest.

The movement of water behind him made him look over his shoulder. The Great Mythosaur had resurfaced, only the top of his head and his eyes were above the water table. Watching, ever present and lurking. Eager. Wanting.

He growled at him, a warning to back the fuck down ― he wasn’t sharing you; you were all for himself and himself only. His exclusive prey, no one else’s. With a low rumble, the Great Mythosaur disappeared under the water, and he refocused on you.

Tension built up at the base of his spine, his cock pulsating so hard it was difficult to ignore it any longer. And then your pussy clenched around him as you orgasmed once more, and that inevitably milked him dry ― both of you moaning in unison as ropes of thick, white cum painted your inner walls, leaving a lasting imprint in your core.

The Beast panted above you ― all coldness deserted from his body, destituted by your unique warmth.

He sat back up, his engorged cock leaving your entrails. Through the daze in your eyes, you looked at him with a satisfied grin. As you sat up straight, you lifted one hand towards him, softly placing it on the center of his chest.

“Come back to me, Din,” you begged, and all hell broke loose within him.

The pain, the shearing pain, blinded all his senses as his bones snapped and rearranged again. His jaw clenched to stop the agonising screams hiking up his throat. Din hunkered down as his body adjusted back to normal size.

As grievous as it was, it was over very quickly. Too quickly. He had not fully transformed into the Beast, which meant easing out of it was not as traumatic.

What was traumatic was the sudden landslide of overwhelming feelings taking form inside him. Almost a decade of apathy meant years’ worth of emotions repressed ― emotions that would emerge to the surface if given the opportunity. And whatever you unleashed within him, flooded his brain and his heart.

A myriad of sentiments rushed through him ― joy, anger, hope, disappointment, serenity, desperation. All at once, a cacophony bursting his eardrums. So loud were his emotions, all boiling together inside him, his thoughts were drowned. He couldn’t think ― panic was setting in.

Din panted as his arms and legs trembled uncontrollably, lungs vacating all oxygen in sharp exhales. His ears rang and his heart threatened to climb up his throat and run. Eyes closed shut, he grasped for control.

“Din, I’m here,” your hands slid on his back, grabbing him by the shoulders.

A soothing balm taking many of his worries away. Your palms smoothing out his skin felt like an anchor. One he desperately tried to hold onto.

Through the fog of his anxiety, he saw you knelt by his side, hugging him close. Naked as he was, a sweaty patina clinging to your skin. Although Din had not been in possession of his own body, he had been relegated to the background and had been witness to everything that happened. Forced to watch him take you.

He felt sick to his stomach.

“I’m sorry. I can’t control him, I just―,” he wheezed as he sat back up.

Your soft eyes sparkled, a faint smile curling up your lips. Your fingers snaked through his hair, combing it back.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Din,” you hugged him tighter, reassuring, kissing one of his shoulders.

“Are you hurt? Did I― did he…?”

“I’m completely fine. A bit… sensitive and raw. But in a good way,” you added with a faint chuckle.

The comforting caress of your hand rubbing his back and your lips brushing the skin on his shoulder made him believe you.

Even though the look in your eyes had not changed, he could see the questions dancing in your pupils. Questions you were holding back, but that would eventually spurt out.

Your free hand reached for his left cheek, and he almost flinched at the proximity. Your thumb had come too close to the scar, sending a shot of pain down his neck. But he didn’t lean back away from you. Instead, Din stilled under your touch.

“I knew you’d be gorgeous underneath that helmet,” you whispered, your mouth close to his.

Din grunted, taking your compliment as an offense. Why were you mocking him? He knew how he looked ― he didn’t need you making fun of him for it.

And why was he upset? He shouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Your tiny fingers wrapped around his wrist when he reached for the helmet nearby. You yanked his forearm until his eyes met yours.

“I wasn’t joking. I mean it, Din. Truly,” you husked, hand again on his cheek and thumb too close for comfort.

He couldn’t see a sliver of jest in your features. You were deadpan serious. And that scared him.

Din looked away, coming to terms with the flaring emotions. Emotions. Even the unspoken word tasted weird on his tongue.

You moved away from him to quickly gather your clothes and put them on. Then returned to his side with his armour and clothing.

“Let’s go back home, Din. You look knackered,” you mumbled, kneeling by his side again.

Din didn’t reject your aid when you helped him get dressed again. Taking the helmet between your hands, he bowed down his head so you could put it on for him.

His body ached in places he didn’t even know could hurt ― all the restructuring his bones had to endure always took a physical toll on him. So much so, he needed your help to stand up ― his legs felt like those of a newborn humbaba.

But today… today it also took an emotional toll on him.

He really was exhausted.

You probably needed time to process what had happened tonight, a whirlwind of questions and doubts battered around in your mind. But you didn’t want to leave Din alone, not when he looked so fatigued, a moment away from breaking.

Walking down the silent corridor beside him, arm draped around his waist, you went past your room. You had never been to his and hoped tonight would be the night where he would let you spend it by his side.

Hand heavy on the handle, you pushed it down and the door swung open. You didn’t know what to expect and, somehow, the bareness of his room did not surprise you at all. The metalwork on the walls had been painted black and the furniture was sparse. A massive bed with black bedsheets dominated the room.

Despite the monochromatic theme, it felt cozy, inviting even. Dragging him towards the bed, you gently pushed him down on to the mattress and knelt in front of him to remove his boots.

“I can do it,” his words slurred.

“I know. But let me do it, please,” you muttered, throwing the shoes to one side.

Din hummed in agreement, so slowly you unfastened all the beskar pieces again. Removed the vest underneath and unzipped his body stocking down the side, helping him out of it.

There was something extremely intimate about undressing him. Not with a deprived end in mind, but a caring one.

I could do this forever. Only if you’d let me, the intrusive thought didn’t startle you. Because it was true.

Last, you placed your hands to either side of his helmet to pull it up. By pure instinct, his hands darted up to yours to stop you from uncovering his face.

“It’s okay, Din,” you reassured him softly.

Din crooned again, arms falling to his sides, surrendering, and you took it off, leaving it on the nightstand.

You could truly get used to this; you’d never tire of looking at him. His rugged features, although distorted by the nasty scar, were pleasant. His soft, brown and white eyes, the aquiline nose, the moustache blending in with the beard, the strong jaw. You only saw beauty, no beast.

Mando let himself fall backwards and you stood there by the side of the bed, unsure of what to do with yourself.

He decided for you.

“Stay, please,” he purred, half asleep by the time his head touched the pillow underneath.

He didn’t need to say more. Removing your clothes, you joined him under the bedlinen with a smirk.

The first lights of the morning filtered through the big window in Din’s bedroom. You had been awake for an hour now, but he had been so peacefully sleeping, you didn’t want to disturb him.

A tangled mess of limbs you were, your legs intertwined with his while your right cheek rested on his bare chest. Your left forearm was splayed across his abdomen, the tips of your fingers mindlessly caressing his ribs.

Pressing a kiss to his left pec, he stirred under you, slowly coming out of his slumber. You hugged him tighter, an easy smile surfacing.

“Good morning,” you husked when he looked down at you with just his left eye open, lips slightly curled downwards.

His addled expression made you snicker as you kissed his jawline.

“Morning,” he hushed back once his brain registered your words.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Everything hurts, but I’m okay.”

The arm of his under you moved, bringing you closer to him in a half embrace.

“I know you have questions,” he said a few moments later.

“Understatement of the year,” you joked, lifting your head slightly up to rest your chin on his chest. “Is now a good time?”

“Might as well,” his reply was accompanied by a smirk.

“You didn’t transform fully last night, did you?”

Din shook his head. “No, just halfway. I think your presence stopped it from happening.”

Did that mean that you could soothe the beast? That you could help Din in a way that really mattered? The mere possibility filled your belly with butterflies.

“And, well, the most obvious one… How?” you emphasized the last word.

“A witch cursed me before I killed her,” you looked at him quizzically, eyebrows raised, and he sighed. “A man by the name of Moff Gideon had someone I held dear under his grasp. A kid I was fond of,” he paused to gather his thoughts while your breath hitched at the name of Moff Gideon. “I fought Gideon to free him. I won, but he had backup I did not see coming. A witch named Morgan Elsbeth. She came to his rescue and I ended up killing her. Her last breath cursed me to an existence of apathy and becoming a beast. Guess it worked,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “That was eight years ago and ever since then, my ability to feel has been dying out while the beast has only gotten stronger.”

Your head spun with so much information, you almost felt dizzy. Did Din fight Moff Gideon? Was it his halo you chased eight years ago?

“Is that how you got the crack on your helmet and the scar?” you ventured, heart pounding.

“Mhm,” was his only reply. “How I lost my right eye too.”

The helmet was made of beskar, one of the strongest alloys in the Galaxy. Only a weapon strong enough would be able to melt it. But you couldn’t push him for more details, or it would be suspicious.

And did it really matter? Did you care that much about the Darksaber? Yes, you had spent your whole life looking for it; yes, you had promised your dying father you would finish the mission. But that felt like a lifetime ago.

“What was the kid’s name? What happened to him?”

“Grogu. He is Force sensitive, he went to the Jedi for training,” he pursed his lips, and your fingers smoothed out the crow’s feet around his right eye.

“You miss him,” you hummed, your fingertips tracing imaginary lines on his skin.

“I didn’t think I did. Till now,” he confessed, stirring under you. “I don’t know, it’s weird. Since last night I have started to… feel again. And it’s overwhelming.”

Your heart did a little jump against your ribcage. If he could feel now, did he feel for you?

You were too scared to ask, so didn’t.

“Maybe the curse is fading?”

“Maybe,” he said back, sounding unconvinced. “You hungry?”

You nodded.

“I’ll go get something. Bet Nau’ul has prepared a feast. Whether it’s edible or not, I don’t know.”

You chuckled at the joke and moved off him so Din could get up. In silence, you watched him dress, his back muscles rippling with every movement.

Yes, you could get used to this.

Fuck the Darksaber. Fuck everything. You just wanted to live your life. With him. Here, in Mandalore. Only if he’d let you.

It was selfish of you to think this way, but Din’s curse had become your blessing.

Every night since you discovered his secret, you’d go to his room and spend the hours of darkness with him. He would reluctantly take the helmet off, but each time you would reassure him he couldn’t scare you away, that what he thought he looked like didn’t matter in the slightest. And you meant every single word. In your eyes, he was perfect just the way he was.

There was still the issue of his Creed forbidding him, but you wondered if it was more habit than anything else.

And every full moon, you would follow him down to the Mythosaur lair to let him take you, excitement running through your veins every single time. You knew you shouldn’t enjoy it but allowing him to fuck you in beast form was exhilarating. Even with practice you had still not been able to take him fully ― his cock too big to bear. It was worse when you attempted a blowjob on him ― your jaw almost dislocated. But you were more than happy to try, obviously.

And of course, it helped him regulate, which was the most important point of all. He had told you he didn’t feel as cold either. Even if his body was hot to the touch, Din had explained how his organs, his blood, felt like icicles. Ever since the beast had had a taste of your warmth―Din’s words, not yours―it seemed like his feelings were slowly crawling back.

That had been interesting too. After so many years spent numb, Din had had a bit of trouble dealing with his emotions. Sometimes they were extreme, out of proportion even, but he was learning how to manage them. Although most days felt like one step forward and three back, especially when it was a touchy subject such as love.

You had tried, but Din was still of the idea that he couldn’t truly feel ― that this was just a glitch, a shortcut, but not the real thing. And because of his stupid theory, he didn’t want to hear you say anything about The Matter. You had seen how much he had improved, how much better he could deal with everything, and yet he wouldn’t listen to you in that respect.

You rolled your eyes, still thinking about it, as you trekked through the mud. It was a crispy morning, but the cold had started to recede. Poor Ca’nara had a faulty retractable third leg ― the inside mechanism was getting jammed regularly. You had decided to be proactive and walk to the landing site of your X-wing, in the hopes that some parts of your astromech droid were salvageable. An extremely long shot, yes, but you had to try at least.

In full armour, Din sauntered towards the dining room, where the three droids seemed to be conferring about something.

None of them heard him coming, and Nau’ul startled dramatically when he saw him.

“Oh! Alor! What― Uh, do you want something to eat?” he asked, looking at Mrs. Kri’gee and Ca’nara nervously.

Din frowned, suspicious of their jumpy, evasive behaviour.

“No, I’m fine,” he mumbled as his eye caught a glimpse of something shiny Nau’ul was holding, trying to conceal it. “What’s that?”

“Ah, this? Well. You see, I― It’s― Nothing really. I don’t really know what―” his stammering was riling Din up.

He was a damn droid, not a fucking human. How could Nau’ul get edgier than himself? Unbelievable.

“Give,” he extended his hand towards the droid, palm up, and curled his fingers with impatience.

The three droids shared weird looks, but Nau’ul finally handed him the object.

Din turned around the metal item and as soon as he did, he recognised the beskar. Brows knitting, he inspected the grooves and quickly identified them as astromeridian lines. This was not a simple object; it was a Jedi star compass. Confused as to how this came to be in the possession of Nau’ul, Din unclasped the compass and lifted the lid.

His breathing hitched and his heart skipped a beat. This was not any star compass; this was the star compass. One that all Mandalorians believed to be a myth. But the black plasma in the lodestone didn’t lie. In his hand he was holding the very same star compass that Tarre Vizsla had commissioned to keep track of the Darksaber in case it ever got stolen.

“Where did you get this?” he snapped, fingers clutching the device tight.

“I― Well, it’s complicated. I thought―”

“It’s hers, isn’t it?” he interrupted.

The memory of that day trip to your ship came back to him. A locket, you had said. Bullshit.

Nau’ul nodded.

“How long have you had this?”

“Weeks, Alor. I did recognise it from the lore I knew about House Vizsla, but we didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily. She’s doing you good, Master, you’ve improved―”

“Unnecessarily? Are you for fucking real, Nau’ul?” Din replied angrily, teeth gritting.

Without expecting an answer, he turned around and stormed out of the room.

You were kneeling on the ground, elbow’s deep in the core of your old R3-D3 unit, trying to reach a hidden screw, when you heard heavy steps approaching.

“Good you’re here, I can’t get to this screw. I’ve been at it for five minutes now. Can you try?” you asked Din, who stopped inches away from your back.

When he didn’t say a word, you turned around and glanced up at him.

He radiated tension through every pore, his posture stiff and shoulders squared. Eyebrows furrowed, you got up, cleaning the palm of your hands on your trousers.

“What’s the matter, Din?”

“This. Why did you have this?” his voice transpired how mad he felt as he handed you an object you quickly recognised.

The star compass that Nau’ul had confiscated from you weeks ago. You had assumed the droid didn’t know what it was and hadn’t bothered to show it to Din.

Your eyes shot up to where you knew his were.

“I can explain,” you reached for him, your fingers wrapping around his forearm.

“You better start talking now,” even if he hadn’t backed away from you, he felt so distant.

Your mind raced and your heart galloped inside your chest. You could lie your way out of this situation, but you didn’t want to. You loved him, and nothing else mattered. He would understand. Eventually.

“Din, listen to me, please. I’m not gonna lie to you: it is exactly what it looks like. My family, my tribe― we are trackers. Have been tracking the Darksaber for generations. I was raised to hate your people, but the message never really sunk in for me. Our purpose was to find the Darksaber and destroy it,” you explained while he remained deadly silent. “That was why I was travelling through the Mandalore system. I was tracking the Darksaber. I was going to Concordia, but I ran into technical problems with my X-wing and had to divert here. I think― I thought it was there.”

Until that night you sneaked out to the west wing. You had been caught before you could confirm your suspicions but were pretty sure that was what Din was hiding in the west wing. The reason he wouldn’t let you be anywhere nearby.

“But now you know it’s not in Concordia,” he finished for you.

You nodded.

“But I don’t care for it anymore, Din. Once I figured you likely had it, I made a choice. I chose you,” you whispered, closing in on him until your bodies met. “You have to believe me.”

He didn’t talk at all. Silence strung between you, dense and worrying, like a rope wrapping around your neck, forcing the oxygen out of your lungs. You didn’t want to panic, knowing that Din probably only needed time to think, to digest and ruminate.

Minutes went by and your grip on his forearm loosened. You were ready to take a step back, give him some space to process, when Din finally spoke in his modulated voice.

“I believe you,” a wave of relief washed over you, “and I choose you too.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach and then climbed up your oesophagus. It was beating so hard, so fast, you were seconds away from passing out.

He chose you.

Before you could throw your arms around his neck with pure elation, Din took a step back and one hand reached towards the back of his belt. Confused, you followed the movement of his hand, a deep wrinkle burrowing between your brows.

Din presented you a black hilt, waved it a little, and then the black and white blade appeared, humming very loudly, although dimmer than what you expected. Your eyes widened at the sight of the Darksaber ― the item your whole family had been searching for, right there, in front of you, an inch away from your fingers.

Lifting your right hand, you reached for it.

Suddenly, a firing sound broke the silence and, inexplicably, Din leaned forward towards you, the Darksaber dropping from his hand.

You held him by the elbows, not understanding what was happening, as his hands grasped for you. Then a second firing noise uprooted a painful groan from him while he almost dragged you to the floor.

“Din? Din!” you whispered, on your knees with him in your arms, as your hands roamed his body.

You felt the warm blood before you could see it and panic settled in fast. He was profusely bleeding from two gunshots on his back, right below the beskar piece that covered his six.

“No, no. Wait. What―” you sobbed as Din groaned, his consciousness drifting away.

You were losing him fast, and you didn’t even know how.

“Are you okay? Is he dead?”

A male voice came from behind a tree near the cliff. A voice you had not heard in a long while, but quickly recognised.

Ashton.

Blaster still pointing at Din, Ash had frozen several meters away from you. What was he doing here? How did he get here unnoticed? Why? Fucking why?

But none of those questions left your mouth, gutted as you were, holding onto Din, worried he would slip away from you. You couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, overwhelmed as you were.

Din stirred in your arms, and you saw the panic reflected in Ash’s eyes as he cocked the blaster in Din’s direction again. There was no time to think, to beg, to ask him to leave. To tell him you loved the man he was intent on killing.

So you did the only thing you could do. Your fingers found Din’s blaster in his holster, lifted it up, pointed to Ash, and shot.

The light beam flashed before it hit dead center between Ash’s eyes. He stumbled back and fell into the abyss behind him. And just like that, you had killed the only friend you had known.

You should have doubted your actions, but you didn’t. It all happened too quickly, and you had bigger worries than having killed one of the few people you cared about. Like losing the love of your life.

Dropping the blaster, you rushed to remove Din’s helmet.

“Din, please, just hold on. Please, stay with me. Please, don’t leave,” you screamed and cried, hands trembling and pressing on the wounds on his back.

His eyes fluttered open, only a tiny slit ― his gloved hand reached up, cradling your cheek.

“Cyar’ika,” he could barely talk. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum (I love you). Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

“No, no. NO. You ain’t saying goodbye. No,” your words slurred as your sobs intensified, your heart breaking into a myriad of tiny pieces.

You removed the glove of his hand to kiss the palm, your tears streaming between his fingers. Yours wrapped around his wrist, holding him there.

As you cried your eyes out, you noticed the Darksaber humming louder, almost deafening, and its light shining brighter. Its vibration called you, hearing your name inside your head. A Force deep within you awakening, beckoning you to touch it. A need as basic as breathing.

Through teary eyes, blinking fast, you gave in ― you grabbed it.

An electrifying sensation ran through you, all your muscles coiling at once. Your mind spiralled out of control, for a moment losing track of time and space. The Force was so intense, so primitive, you thought you would be obliterated by its magnitude.

When you could finally open your eyes, the blade had dimmed considerably and then it completely snuffed out. Your cries had not stopped though, so loud you almost missed Din’s voice.

“Mesh’la,” he rasped, trying to straighten his back, “you― you’re Force sensitive. You’ve used the Force of the Darksaber to heal me.”

Your wet eyes darted to him and then his wounds. Or where the wounds had been but no longer existed. Mouthing a gulp of air, you instantly dropped the Darksaber to hug him tight, crying louder than before.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. We’re okay,” he hushed, comforting you.

“I love you, Din,” you mumbled in the crook of his neck, relief running through you loosening your taut muscles. “Don’t you fucking dare die on me again or I’ll kill you myself.”

Din chuckled, one hand smoothing out your hair.

“Noted, cyar’ika.”

Cradling his handsome face, you pressed a kiss to his lips. Salty yet sweet. You kissed him again, looking for the solace of his tongue.

The wind carried some words you barely made out.

“Maker met.”

Four full moons had come and gone, and the beast was no more.

Din’s curse was broken. For good. Forever.

You couldn’t have asked for anything else. Anyone else. You loved him and he loved you back ― he had shown you many times. Right as he was showing you now.

Your lips brushed his tummy right above his belly button, leaving a trail of kisses as you found your way back to his mouth. Din was laying on his back, his rough hands caressing the back of your thighs as you kissed his scar and then his right eye, lips soft as a cloud.

He didn’t flinch anymore whenever you touched the sensitive skin or his blind eye. Instead, he sighed, as if your caress was soothing, calming. As if you could take away the pain he felt sometimes.

You sat back up on top of him, straddling his hips as his mushroom head hitched in your entrance, his hands compelling you to impale yourself. But you didn’t ― not yet.

Instead, you leaned over a bit, taking the helmet off the nightstand. It was heavy. Curious to know what it felt like, you put it on. The padding inside was soft, your face snug. It was slightly claustrophobic, but also comforting. Weird.

“It suits you, cyar’ika. You should consider taking up the Creed,” he mumbled, eyes full of desire, of yearning. Of love.

You chuckled and stirred your hips above him, the tip of his cock going in ever so smoothly.

“For you, I just might, Din.”

@baronessvonglitter @bishtrouille @natalieispunk @iknowisoundcrazy @almostfoxglove

[bunny-jpeg]

if I knew you write for jenson I would've ordered long time ago! can I get tiramisu with a side of champagne with jenson? (after he won his championship not very dilf yk)

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there are tons of things to submit and i do accept orders outside of f1, so hit me with it!! as for this anon, thank you for submitting a jenson button order, haha. i do think it is very funny that you had to specify before his dilf era, haha. but thank you for the clarification. there is tons of dirty talk (oops)

tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by jenson button (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, 2009 era, dirty talking, driver's room sex/semi-public sex, mean!jenson, couch sex, clothed sex, panty ripping (oops)

you should've known that the moment jenson got his hands on the trophy, he was going to be all over you. you had went to see him at the final race of the season, and when it was clear that he was pulling through points wise. you should've taken your panties off under your skirt.

because jenson was going to rip them off of you.

the sound of tearing fabric filled the driver's room as he got you thrown over the back of the couch, your ass on display for him. he tossed the fabric away, no longer unusable as any kind of garment.

"i liked those!" you squeaked.

he chuckled as he groped his cock through his driver's suit, "you act like i can't buy you new panties. you dumb little slut, i pay for everything else."

you swallowed and arched your back a little more. you knew your place, it wasn't your fault. you let a formula one driver flash a bit of money in front of your broke student face and you followed him to the ends of the earth.

and now when he wanted to poke the base of your cervix with the blunt tip of his cock. you let him. like a good girl should.

he got out of as much of the suit as he could and got his cock out of his pants. it was a bit awkward, but he couldn't have the luxury of undressing both of you. not right before the press circus.

he gazed at your soaked cunt for a moment and licked his lips. he flipped the skirt of your dress up and sank into your pretty little cunt. it was an easy fit, he had trained his girl quite well. all to lead up to this moment, he got to celebrate his win with his cock buried in his girl.

it was perfect.

his hands on your hips, feeling the meat under his firm grip. he was practically fucking you face first into the couch. he just wanted to feel his beautiful slut. the pretty hole that he gets to fuck between races. originally this sugar daddy agreement was to help you pay for the nice school you went to in england.

but you haven't been on campus in over a year, why would jenson let you? you were prettier on his arm at events than in between the stacks of books. you were both only in your twenties, but he wanted to make sure that you couldn't get out of his grip.

eventually you'll go back to school. just later.

for now, it was about celebrating. and he was doing that while your pussy drooled around his cock. he panted heavily and continued his forceful thrusts. you were a dream to him, making the lust throb in his back of his head.

"my little slut.' he groaned, "but you know that, you know that you get a nice little payment in exchange for letting me ruin your pussy." his words were venomous but it made you see stars behind your eyelids.

you whimpered, "please, jenson." you arched your back a little to get a better angle of his cock pushing into your soaked cunt.

“my little slut to ruin.” he said, "right? all mine." he continued to thrust up into you. his force was tight and his tongue was loose. he wanted to make sure that you knew that you were a taken woman.

that he was the champion and you were the cute little thing that he sank his cock into. he held onto your hips tightly and battered his cock up against you.

"pretty thing." he said, "you know how to be good for me." he groaned a little bit. you were still on the track, and the driver's room was only so private. but his mouth still ran, "pay for your rent, your clothes, anything you need. and you in return let me make a mess of your little cunt. i guess it's only fair. i empty my wallet for you and i empty my balls in you." he chuckled a little as he felt the sweat on his back.

the adrenaline was still high.

you let out a small whimper and he continued to thrust into you. you felt so good enough him, like a proper fit. his pace was aggressive as he pushed you further into the couch.

sadly the sex couldn't last long as he had places to be with you on his arm. he was the world champion after all. he licked his lips at the sight of your pussy trying to accommodate his girth.

a sweet little thing you were. all his.

he gave it a few more heavy thrusts before he came inside of you. he buried his cock as deep as it would go inside of you. he felt hot all over in the clothes he was still in, but his core throbbed with a deep need for you.

"mine. my little slut." he groaned as he gripped the back of your head to keep you pinned under him. he hissed through his teeth before he slowed to a stop.

he kept his cock inside of you as his other hand worked at your clit. which made you freeze up, the pleasure melted in your brain like chocolate in the sun. you whined a little louder and he told you to shut up.

he played with your poor clit, already throbbing for a deep need. you covered your mouth with your hands as you curled up as you came. you tensed all over as it washed over you. then you relaxed over the back of couch. a bit of cum stuck to your pussy lips and jenson loved the sight of that.

a beautiful little slut.

he patted your bare ass cheek before he got the skirt of your dress over your ass. he chuckled a little, "better pray that it doesn't leak out of you. because if it does." his tone got a little darker, "i'll just have to put it all back in you."

he watched you try to compose yourself before you both had to get out in front of the cameras. he hoped that the press got a picture of his cum running down your leg. after all, he was number one and he was allowed to stake claim on your sweet pussy. <3

[demusewriter]

I Loved You Too Early

Summary: You've been admiring the captain of the prominent football team in your school, whom you secretly admiring from afar. You thought he was out of your reach until you saw him studying in your brother's room. Genre: brother's best friend, slow-burn Pairing: Non-idol! Jungwon x Fem! Reader Word count: Part II: 14,297 (Overall: 26,179k) Chapters: 10 (Completed) (divided in two parts) Warnings: This is heavily inspired by the Chinese drama 'Hidden Love' so, there's a big resemblance, age gap (5 years difference), unrequited love, a little bit of sprinkle of angst, fluff, time skip, just a teeny-weeny bit of fist fighting (but not too much!), and not solid proof-read because its too long (╥﹏╥). Author's Note: Thank you for patiently reading my story! I’m glad you’re still with me through the second part, despite how long it’s gotten (≧∇≦). I really appreciate you taking the time to enjoy my work. I hope you enjoyed it! (´▽`ʃƪ)♡

Please don’t forget to support ENHYPEN and the members in their projects as well. Let's show them the love and appreciation we have on their crafts. ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅

Enjoy, and maybe I'll see you again next year? (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵) Haha!

PART I PART II

Chapter Six

Amidst the chatter of the crowd and the rhythmic pulse of music drifting from nearby venues, you find yourself enveloped in the energy of the night.

Tonight feels different, a subtle shift in the air that whispers of newfound freedom and possibilities.

For the first time, you find yourself standing amidst the crowded club, a cocktail in hands, embracing the intoxicating energy of the night as you celebrate along with your friends the milestone of entering your senior year of college.

As you glance around taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling club scene, you can't help but wonder how much has changed.

Ever since your move to the other city after getting accepted to your dream University, you started to learn to become independent which slowly shaped you into adulthood with each passing day.

As you watch your friends lose themselves in the rhythm of the music, you can't help but realize how time flies so fast.

It seems like yesterday you were a freshman, and now, you're already in your final year of college.

You shook your head with a soft smile as you put down your drink.

You look at your friends one last time before you sneak your way outside of the club to get some fresh air.

Stepping outside, you were greeted by the breathtaking sight of the city skyline glowing with lights, a mesmerizing contrast to the dimly lit interior of the club.

Leaning against the railing, you let out a deep breath, allowing the cool night air to soothe your senses. You lean your head down on your arms, which rest on the railing, and drown yourself in admiring the city lights.

The mesmerizing glow of the city lights illuminates another pair of eyes, making it look like there's a stars twinkle in their eyes.

With his arms leaning over the railing, he gently swirls the glass of champagne in his hands before bringing it to his lips for a sip.

Jungwon can't help but nod to the taste of champagne which leaves a refreshing sensation that lingers on his tongue.

He was supposed to be inside of the club enjoying the celebration of his friend's promotion but the noise was too much for him that he found the balcony as his temporary refuge from the chaos inside.

As his eyes went back to the city skyline, his head were once again flooded with loneliness.

It's been five years since he decided to move to another city to pursue his dreams, and despite achieving them and even reaching more than he expected, there is still a nagging emptiness in his soul that casts a shadow over his triumphs.

The success he had worked so hard for felt hallow, leaving him questioning whether the sacrifices he had made truly worth it or if he had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way.

It feels like something is missing that leaves a huge void inside of him.

As Jungwon's gaze wandered into the big city skyline that screamed mockery at his loneliness, his eyes traced the twinkling lights of the cityscape until they fell upon a figure standing five meters beside him.

Jungwon's felt his heart pound so hard for the first time as he watched her looking at the same city skyline with her head cradled in her arms in the railing with a same gentle smile that he used to adore in the past.

He can't believe that after so many years, he was now able to see some familiar face back in his hometown.

"Y/n?"

A familiar voice broke through your reverie, calling out your name with a hint of disbelief.

Startled, you glance at your side, searching for the source of the voice that had called out to you.

Your gaze settled on the figure meters away, and as you squinted to get a better look, a subtle beat stirred inside your chest.

As recognition dawned on you, your heart finally quickened its pace, its rhythm echoing a familiar tune that you haven't felt for five long years.

With each beat, the sensation grew stronger, enveloping you in a wave of nostalgia.

It was a rhythm so deeply ingrained, so unmistakably familiar, that despite the passage of time, you felt it once again, coursing through your veins like a rediscovered melody from the past.

After all those years, he is the only one that continues to stir your heart with this much intensity.

Standing beneath the glow of the city lights, he exuded an aura of masculinity that seemed to draw everyone's eyes effortlessly.

His once-boyish features had transformed into a striking display of manliness, with a jawline so sharp it could cut through the night air with ease

The black polo that he was wearing perfectly hugged his broad shoulders, accentuating every muscle beneath.

At that moment, it was as if time stood still, the world around you fading into the background as you found yourself captivated with disbelief.

"Jungwon?"

The simple sound of his name on your lips sends a rush of warmth flooding through him, igniting a smile that stretches across Jungwon's face in disbelief.

It's new that you didn't call him with the honorifics that you used to call him before yet it was the least of his problem—it's the fact that it's you, someone he hasn't seen in what feels like an eternity, who has spoken it.

"Yeah. It's me, Y/n," he softly said "It's been a long time"

His eyes sparkle with joy as he responds, and you can't help but feel a pang in your heart at the sight.

How is it that after purposely ghosting him for years, he still finds happiness in seeing you?

"Yeah, it is," you murmur, averting your eyes as guilt slowly consumes your soul. "How are you?"

"Everything's fine," Jungwon leans on the railing looking at the cityscape with a faint smile "although a little bit lonely for being away in home"

You nodded, clasping your hands behind your back. You anxiously chewed on the inside of your cheek, feeling the weight of awkward silence settling the atmosphere.

Your conflicted thoughts race through your mind on what to say next, wondering if you should apologize or stay silent.

As if Jungwon could read your mind, he broke through your reverie.

"You don't have to worry about anything, Y/n," his eyes find yours again, this time with more gentleness on it, making your heart beat a little faster. "I understand, you might have your own reason"

Despite the course of time, Jungwon remained unchanged. He was still the same person you remembered—understanding, reassuring, and everything you had once fallen in love with.

"Although, you owe me a dinner for all the lost time we haven't seen each other," he teasingly says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, matching it with a playful smirk.

Your eyes went wide, taken aback by what he said.

You spoke too soon; he's now become playful.

Jungwon's eyes formed into a crescent moon as he chuckles at your reaction.

"Sorry, I can't help but tease you. It's really been a long time since I've talked to someone I know from back home," he said, tucking his hands into his neatly ironed dark pants and leaning his back against the railing. "Besides your brother, of course."

"You still in contact with Riki-niisan?" You ask in surprise.

"We never lost contact with each other. I never knew your brother could be clingy" He joked, making you smile. "I also found out from him that you moved to this city to study"

His eyes found yours again, and as you looked into them, a hint of sadness reflected back at you, instantly making you feel like your heart dropped.

"I've been wanting to get in touch with you, but I'm afraid you might not want to talk to me."

As you continue to look into Jungwon's eyes, the regrets succeed in clouding not only your mind but also your heart.

Regrets about the times you had a chance back then to make up with him, thinking that if you had just been capable of handling your emotions instead of avoiding him and projecting your feelings onto him, there wouldn't be this series of "what if's" that has built in your mind.

But because of how childishly you handled the situation, you ended up hurting the person who had only pure intentions, and now he is doubting whether he was the problem when it was you to blame.

"Jungwon, I—"

"Y/n," your words were suddenly cut off when you heard one of your friends call you, her face showing signs of tiredness.

"I think we need to go home; Soo-ah is too wasted," she sighed, shaking her head as if she was stressed about something.

You peeked inside the club, trying to find the rest of your friends from the balcony. As you caught a glimpse of them, you couldn't help but feel worried.

The scene where one of your friends swaying side to side, raising a bottle of champagne, and shouting colorful words at the top of her lungs, is enough for you to end the night.

However, you were snapped back to reality when you realized Jungwon was still there with you on the balcony.

As you looked at him, he already had his arms crossed over his chest, still leaning on the railing. His eyes were on you, and a small, wistful smile played on his lips, carrying a hint of understanding.

"Go ahead, it's getting late," he said with a nod, gesturing for you to follow your friend, who was still standing by the sliding door, waiting for you to join her and go home.

Not wanting to bother your friend any further, as she looked exhausted, you nodded at him and proceeded to follow your friend to the rest of the girls to pack up.

As you walked away from the balcony, it felt like each step was stamping on your heart, making a cracking noise and echoing another layer of guilt that piled up in your heart.

You closed your eyes and clutched your chest, trying to soothe the pain you were feeling.

"What if this is the final chance?"

Your steps came to a halt.

"What if this is the last?"

As if your body took over, you turned around and ran back to the balcony with a pounding heart.

Maybe you acted like a child for ignoring him for years, thinking he might have moved on and forgotten about it, but you were so wrong.

Meeting him tonight, felt like fate had a reason.

"Jungwon!" you called. You found him still in the same position but now looking up at the sky with his eyes closed.

Those gorgeous eyes found yours once again, wide from hearing his name exclaimed by you.

"Let's do it," you said, still catching your breath. Jungwon frowned, dumbfounded by your words.

"Let's get dinner to catch up," you continued, the words slipped in your mouth feel like a weight you had been carrying for five years, slightly lifted, making you genuinely smile. "My treat."

At that moment, not only did your heart feel like it could finally breathe from the chains of guilt that caged you, but also the man who had been wishing to meet you could finally gather the courage to ask about the things he did that made you avoid him and formally apologize for it.

With a soft smile, he uttered words that came straight from his heart.

"I'm looking forward to it, Y/n"

Chapter Seven

Sometimes, it feels like the universe adores you, bestowing blessings that you don't always feel you deserve. Sure, life isn't as easy as it seems in the movies, but with the universe blessing you with people who become your strong support system, life becomes bearable.

However, just as much as the universe adores you, it can also seem to curse you with its worst imaginable trials. It felt like the universe was in that state with you when a realization dawned on you.

How can you keep the dinner that you promise when you have no means to contact Jungwon?

You slammed your head onto the open book placed in your desk with the rest of your study materials creating a loud thud. You groaned at your stupidity.

This realization have been bugging you for days.

You were ready to give Jungwon the details about the dinner you planned, but as you scrolled through your contacts, a sudden lightning bolt of awareness struck you.

You had deleted his number a long time ago.

You stomped your feet in frustration, you thought studying will help you ignore this feeling but it wasn’t working well for you.

"Still thinking about it?"

With your head still resting on the desk, you turned your head towards the sound of a voice and saw Eunhee standing in the doorway, a plastic bag in one hand and the other resting on her waist.

"Okaeri" you lifelessly greet.

After graduating high school, you and Eunhee decided to apply to the same university and, miraculously, both passed the entrance exam.

Her presence was one of the reasons your parents felt comfortable letting you move to another city for your studies; knowing someone would be there to accompany you gave them peace of mind.

"Tadaima" she greets back with a smile.

You and Eunhee had been roommates ever since freshman year, sharing both the challenges and joys of college life together, including the history you had with Jungwon.

The first time you told her about it, you got hit in the head, delivering a much-needed reality check.

She scolded you for how poorly you handled the situation, insisting that if you had told her sooner, she would have knocked some senses into you to prevent it from happening.

You couldn't help but agree and wish you had confided in her back then.

"I told you, just contact your brother; he surely has Jungwon's number" Eunhee suggested.

You knew she was right. It was an obvious solution to simply ask your brother, especially since Jungwon had mentioned they were still in contact.

It was an easy fix, a straightforward way to solve your problem. Yet, for some reason, it felt incredibly difficult for you.

The thought of reaching out to your brother and admitting that you needed Jungwon's number was daunting. It made you confront the reality of your past actions and the lingering feelings of guilt and regret.

Despite knowing it was the simplest way forward, the emotional weight of the situation made it seem far from easy.

Now, lying in your bed, you stared at your brother's message inbox. You typed out comprehensive sentences, trying to find the right words to ask for Jungwon's number, only to delete them repeatedly.

The task should have been simple, but each attempt felt like an impossible hurdle. The more you tried, the more the words eluded you, as if the gravity of the situation rendered you unable to reach out for the help you needed.

With a heavy sigh, you finally gave up and turned off your phone, placing it on your bedside table.

Ready to accept defeat and let sleep take you away from your misery, you closed your eyes.

Just as you began to drift off, your phone chimed with a notification. You reached for your phone again and squinted to the sudden brightness of the screen.

"Hi, it's Jungwon. I hope you haven't forgotten the dinner you promised ;)"

The content of the message nearly made you jump out of bed, totally erasing any trace of sleep from your mind.

The message took you aback, making you question if it was really him, as it was a mystery how he had gotten your number.

And with a wink emoji?!

It was all so new to you that it took a while to gather your thoughts and reply.

"Is it really you, Jungwon?"

As if he was waiting for your reply, he responded almost instantly.

"Yeah, it's me~"

You let out a gasp, covering your mouth in disbelief when he sent you a selfie. He was lying on his bed, wearing a black shirt with his hair visibly wet from the shower.

He was dashingly handsome.

The sight of him was enough to make your face turn as red as a tomato and cause your brain to short-circuit, rendering you completely speechless.

"I got your number from your brother when you started studying here. He insisted I have it in case of an emergency. I'm glad I kept it."

His message left you in a daze. All those years, he had your number?

The realization hit you hard, for all this time, the means to contact him had been right there, and he had known how to reach you?

The thought of him having your number all these years sent a whirlwind of emotions through you, from shock to a bittersweet.

"I've always wanted to reach out," Jungwon admitted. "But I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear from me."

His words words made your heart swell with emotion. You felt a mix of guilt, relief, and a new kind of happiness. You realized that despite the years of silence, he had always kept a piece of you with him, waiting for the right moment.

"Thank you for reaching out, Jungwon," you finally replied. You bit your lip, nervous about the next message you wanted to send, something you had been wanting to say to him for a very long time.

"I've missed you."

With shaky hands, you quickly typed the next message to divert his attention from the first one.

"And yes, the dinner is still up. Are you free next Friday night?"

As you sat there, staring at your phone, with all the details being set for the upcoming dinner, you felt a sudden shift within you.

The regret and guilt began to fade, replaced by hopeful anticipation. You knew that this was a second chance, a moment to reconnect and rebuild what had been lost.

For the first time in a long while, you felt a genuine sense of happiness.

This time, you were determined to make the right choices.

Chapter Eight

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, gently waking you from a restless sleep. The sudden feeling of significant weighed heavily on your mind.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Today was the day of your dinner with Jungwon.

Rising from bed, you went through your morning routine with a sense of purpose. This wasn’t just any day; it was a chance to make things right.

After a quick shower, you wrapped yourself in a towel and stood in front of your closet, contemplating your outfit. You wanted to look perfect, not just for Jungwon, but for yourself—an expression of the new beginning you were stepping into.

Next, you moved to your vanity, carefully applying makeup that enhanced your natural beauty. A bit of eyeliner, a touch of blush, and a swipe of your favorite lipstick completed the look.

You wanted to present the best version of yourself, one that reflected the changes you had undergone over the years.

Satisfied with your appearance, you slipped into a pair of comfortable yet stylish shoes and gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror. You felt a surge of confidence and a sense of readiness to face whatever the evening might bring.

With everything in place, you grabbed your purse and checked your phone for any messages from Jungwon. Seeing none, you took a deep breath, allowing a wave of calm to wash over you.

Today was about seizing the moment and embracing the second chance you had been given.

When the time finally arrived, you felt a sudden mix of excitement and nervousness as you entered the restaurant.

You took a seat at the table you had reserved, heart brimming with hope as you awaited Jungwon's arrival.

Or so you thought would happen.

You nervously swirled the third juice you had ordered with the straw, eyes constantly darting outside and then back to your phone, waiting for a notification. Thirty minutes had passed since you arrived, and there was still no sign of Jungwon. Restlessness began to seep in, and doubts started to creep into your mind.

"Just thirty more minutes," you told yourself. "He'll come."

Yet as the minutes ticked by, Jungwon was still nowhere to be found. You tried to convince yourself that he hadn’t intentionally ditched you, reasoning that perhaps he had forgotten since you hadn’t notified him today or given him a heads-up that you were already at the meeting spot.

Sighing in defeat, you felt a lump forming in your throat, tears threatening to spill. Gathering your things, you decided to leave, hoping that some ice cream might help soothe the growing sadness in your chest.

As you left the restaurant, your phone rang. Despite not being in the mood to talk to anyone, you still answered, seeing it was your brother.

"Nini?" you tried to casually greet Ni-ki, masking the sadness in your tone.

"Are you free tonight?" he asked. You were about to decline, assuming he was about to pull one of his usual stunts, flying over to visit you as if it were just a short trip instead of thousands of miles away.

You really weren’t in the mood for his crazy antics. But his next words stopped you in your tracks.

"Can you check on Jungwon? He hasn't been answering his phone since yesterday."

The sadness and frustration that had boiled inside you as you exited the restaurant evaporated in an instant, replaced by concern and agitation as you stood in front of Jungwon's apartment door.

Ni-ki had given you directions to Jungwon's place, asking you to check on him after he'd become unresponsive. Your brother wanted to do it himself, but work had him tied up, leaving you with the task.

"Jungwon?" you called out after ringing the doorbell.

No response.

You tried again, but just like the first time, silence greeted you from the other side. Your worry intensified, and you began chewing the inside of your cheek anxiously.

Glancing at one of your brother's messages, you carefully entered the passcode for Jungwon's apartment that Ni-ki had provided.

The door clicked open after you entered the passcode, and as you turned the knob, the trembling in your hand was a clear sign of your nervousness.

You had no idea what you were about to see behind that door, and the fear of finding something horrible gnawed at you. Images from the countless crime documentaries you had binge-watched replayed in your mind, making you gulp.

You pushed the door open slowly, and immediately, the darkness inside greeted you. Cold sweat formed on your forehead as you hesitated.

This was exactly how things started in horror movies!

With a swift motion, you swung the door wide open and frantically searched for the light switch, tapping the wall until, by some miracle, you found it. The lights flickered on, and you let out a sigh of relief as you scanned the room, finding nothing unusual.

You called for Jungwon again, but still, no response. Your phone was still clutched in your hand, already open to the call app, ready to dial for help if needed. Your heart raced as you faced another door.

Jungwon's room.

You knocked once more, calling his name, but it was the same as before—silence. Slowly, you opened the door, bracing yourself for what lay inside. The room was dark, but with the lights from the hallway spilling in, you quickly spotted Jungwon lying on his bed, wrapped in a thick blanket.

Rushing to his side, you immediately noticed he was drenched in sweat, his breath labored and pained. You pressed your palm to his forehead, and the burning heat of his skin confirmed what your instincts had already told you.

Jungwon hadn’t missed your dinner out of spite or to get back at you.

He couldn’t come because he was sick.

Somehow, knowing this brought a sense of peace to your heart.

The room seemed to swirl and twist as Jungwon slowly opened his eyes to a blurry world. His head throbbed with each heartbeat, and though his body was consumed by an insatiable heat, he felt cold to the bone.

As consciousness slowly seeped back into him, the realization struck—he was burning up with fever. Struggling to focus his blurred vision on the ceiling above him, fragments of memory began to return.

He was supposed to have dinner with you.

The thought hit him like an ice-cold bucket of water, sending a shiver down his spine that was ten times colder than the fever raging through his body.

Jungwon had felt under the weather the day before, but he had brushed it off, determined to finish his work. Even though he had felt worse earlier, he convinced himself that a little rest would set him right. He had been looking forward to tonight's dinner so much that he ignored the signs. But as the day wore on, his condition only worsened until he was now bedridden.

Panic surged through him as he tried to sit up, imagining you sitting alone at the restaurant, thinking he had abandoned you. But a wave of dizziness hit him, forcing him back down onto the bed. He closed his eyes in frustration, unable to bear the thought of you drowning in negative thoughts, believing he had stood you up.

He needed to get to you, even if it meant pushing through the fever and dealing with the consequences of his stubbornness.

As Jungwon gathered his strength to make another attempt to rise, he flinched when something cool and damp touched his forehead. His eyes snapped open, and he was greeted by the sight of your gentle face, leaning over him as you carefully wiped his forehead.

Jungwon blinked, struggling to process the sight of you beside him. The cool cloth in your hand was a stark contrast to the feverish heat radiating from his skin. He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was dry and scratchy, and only a faint croak escaped.

"Shh," you whispered, your voice soothing. "Don't try to talk."

Your gentle tone, combined with the sight of your concerned eyes, made something inside Jungwon twist with emotion. He hadn't seen you this close in what felt like forever, and the reality of you being here, taking care of him, was overwhelming.

Your touch was calming, a balm to the chaotic storm of thoughts and fever plaguing him. He felt guilty—guilty for worrying you, for not being able to show up like he had promised. But the guilt was slowly being replaced by something else, something he couldn't name as he watched you care for him.

"I tried..." he began again, his voice cracking. "I didn't want you to think.."

"I know," you said softly, cutting him off. "I know you didn't stand me up on purpose."

He wanted to apologize, to explain how much it had meant to him, how much he had looked forward seeing you again. But the words wouldn't come out right, and the exhaustion tugging at him was too strong.

Instead, he just watched you, his eyes heavy but refusing to close, afraid that if he blinked, you might disappear.

As he looked like you, he had noticed something in you that he failed to realized when he first saw you at the club.

You had changed.

Gone was the carefree, youthful face he remembered from before. Now, your features had matured, carrying a grace and poise that hadn't been there before.

The roundness of your cheeks had given at to a more defined structure, your eyes still held the same warmth but with the depth that spoke of experiences lived and lessons learned. There was a quiet strength in the way you moved, in the way you cared for him, that he hadn't noticed before.

You were beautiful.

Not just in the way he had always known, but in a way that took his breath away. The realization stirred something deep within him, an unfamiliar feeling that made his heart beat in a different, almost unsteady rhythm.

The longer he continue staring at your face, his vision slowly turning blurry with only your angelic face being in the focus. It feels like every blink there's slowly a heart shapes one by one appearing, floating around you.

'It's just the fever,' he told himself, trying to push the feeling down. His thoughts were muddled, and he knew better than to trust them when he was this sick.

But even as he told himself this, his eyes couldn't stop tracing your features, his heart couldn't stop its erratic rhythm. The sight of you like this, so close, so caring, was doing things to him—things he hadn't expected, things he wasn't prepared for.

It made him uneasy, yet at the same time, he felt drawn to it, to you.

"Jungwon?" Your voice broke through his thoughts, soft and concerned.

He blinked, realizing that he's been staring, his heart still thudding painfully in his chest. "I-I'm okay," he croaked, though he wasn't sure if he was saying it to reassure you or himself.

You gave him a small, understanding smile, one that made his heart twist in that strange, unfamiliar way again. "You should rest," you said gently, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "You need to get better."

Jungwon nodded, though his thoughts were far from restful. As he closed his eyes, he couldn't shake the image of you from his mind, couldn't stop the way his heart was responding to your presence.

He tried to ignore it, tried to convince himself that it was nothing, just the fever messing with his head.

But deep down, he knew better.

As he drifted back into a fitful sleep, one thought lingered in his mind: you had changed,

so had his feelings.

Chapter Nine

Jungwon never felt a relief in his entire life as he open his eyes from a good sleep. He lay there for a moment, letting the stillness of the morning settle over him, before finally pushing himself up, testing his strength.

After a sleepless night and days of feeling weak, the fever finally broken leaving him feeling lighter, almost like he was waking up from a long, hazy dream.

He stretched, feeling the tightness in his muscles, but it was the good kind—the kind that reminded him he was alive, that he was getting better.

All thanks to you.

There are no days that you are not there beside him while he was battling with his sickness. Without you it will make sure take him longer to recover.

As his thoughts drifted back to you, the way you'd cared for him so gently, the concern in your eyes, the way your hand felt cool and reassuring against his fevered skin made him smile, soft smile that felt like it came from a place deep inside him that he hadn't accessed in years.

He got out of bed slowly, steadying himself as got out bed slowly, steading himself as he made his way to the bathroom. The face that looked back at him in the mirror was pale, but there was a spark in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

He splashed some water on his face, feeling the coolness refresh him, waking him up fully. As he patted his face with a clean towel, he noticed a bright, bear shaped sticky note stuck on the bathroom mirror.

"Don't forget to take your medicine on time! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ – Y/N"

He can't help but giggled at the kaomoji that you used, quickly reminded him those notes he gets on the gifts he received when he was high school usually on his energy drink, so much similar.

He knows.

He continued his path though the apartment, finding more notes: one on the refrigerator door, reminding him to eat healthy foods, another on the nightstand urging him to rest, and even one on the kitchen counter suggesting he hydrate often.

Each note was a tiny piece of your care left behind, and with each one he read, a warmth spread through his chest.

Jungwon's fingers lingered over the last note, his mind replaying the moments when you must have placed them there. He hadn't realized how much these small gestures would mean to him.

The realization that you've been here, that you cared enough to leave these notes, stirred something in him.

With a smirk, he grabbed a pen and a small notepad, mirroring your approach. He walked back to the refrigerator and placed his first note next to yours:

"Only if you join me for the next meal"

He continued around the apartment, leaving playful and grateful replies to each of your notes:

"You've got great handwriting, by the way."

"Feeling much better, thank to your TLC."

Jungwon grabbed his phone, the weight of it in his hand grounding him as he scrolled through his messages. There were a few from his coworkers, a missed call from his boss, but it was your message that caught his eye.

"Went back to uni to attend some classes. Let me know if you need anything. :)"

He smiled and quickly typed out a reply.

"Thank you, I really appreciate everything you did for me. How about we reschedule that dinner? This time, I promise I'll be there."

He hit send, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. He hadn't felt like this in a long time—like a kid waiting for something exciting to happen, something that could change everything.

Jungwon walked into his kitchen, making a simple breakfast as he waited for your reply. He couldn't stop himself from glancing at his phone every few minutes, his mind racing with thoughts of what might happen next.

When his phone finally buzzed with a new message, he nearly knocked over his coffee in his haste to grab it.

''How about tomorrow night?"

Jungwon smiled, his heart doing that weird, excited flutter again. He quickly typed back a confirmation, his fingers moving almost on their own as he set the plan in motion.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. He spent most of it thinking about the dinner. Part of him was still nervous, still unsure of how to navigate these new feelings, but another part—a bigger part— was excited. He wanted to see you, to talk to you, to spend time with you.

By the time the day rolled around, Jungwon found himself standing outside your dorm, nervously rubbing his hands together as he leaned against his car, the soft glow of the evening lights reflecting on his face. His mind was spinning with anticipation, wondering how the night would go.

"Jungwon!"

The sound of your voice instantly pulled him from his thoughts. His head turned in your direction, and for a moment, everything seemed to move in slow motion.

There you were, walking toward him in the simplest of dresses—a light pastel that flowed effortlessly with the breeze. It wasn't flashy or overly formal, but in Jungwon's eyes, it was like the world had frozen just to capture this moment.

His breath hitched as he took in every detail—the way your hair swayed with each step, the soft smile on your face, and how the gentle evening light highlighted your features.

There was something so natural yet mesmerizing about you. You weren't just the girl he had known from years ago; you really had matured, grown into someone even more beautiful than he had imagined. His heart stirred, beating a rhythm he hadn't quite felt before.

"Something's wrong?" You asked in confusion with his sudden stillness.

Jungwon snapped back to reality, quickly composing himself before flashing a warm smile.

"You... you look beautiful tonight" Jungwon said, his voice slightly betraying his nerves. He looked down to cleared his throat, missing the way you blushed with his compliment.

Jungwon stepped forward and opened the car door for you, his movements gentle and deliberate.

"Shall we?" he asked, still feeling the lingering effects of seeing you in a new light.

As you stepped into the car, Jungwon couldn't help but let his gaze linger just a second longer, feeling that unfamiliar flutter in his chest once more.

The evening was pleasant, with the sound of your laughter filling the air as you caught up on everything that had happened since you last spoke.

Jungwon found himself smiling more than he had in a while, but there was something he couldn't shake—the weight of the questions he had buried for so long.

As the conversation drifted, he saw the way you fiddled with the napkin in your hand, your eyes dropping to the table for a moment.

He knew that look. You were nervous, maybe even hesitant, and his heart tightened in anticipation.

He had a feeling he knew what was coming next.

"Jungwon," you started, your voice soft, almost unsure. He immediately turned his full attention to you, his heart beating a little faster. "I wanted to apologize... for suddenly losing contact with you back then."

There it was.

Jungwon's chest tightened, but he didn't show it. He smiled softly, nodding, trying to ease the tension.

"It's okay," he said, meaning it. He didn't want to make this harder for you than it already was. "People grow apart sometimes... but, if it's not too much to ask—" he hesitated, feeling selfish for even bringing it up, but he had to know.

"Is it okay to know why?"

He watched as you expression shifted, the light in your eyes dimming slightly. You looked down, fidgeting with you napkin again, and for a moment, he thought you might actually tell him the truth. But then you gave a small laugh, almost forced, and shrugged.

"I guess I was just...really busy" You nervously laugh "School, life, you know. It all kind of caught up with me."

Jungwon smiled, but deep down, he know that wasn't it. Not the whole truth, anyway.

He knows.

He has always known.

When you stopped talking to him, when you disappeared from his life, he has sensed there was going on. The way you had distanced yourself felt deliberate, and it hurt more than he could admit.

But what really gave it away was the gifts—the little care packages, the foods, and sticky notes filled with motivational puns and quotes accompanied with cute doodles.

He had always suspected it was you. No one else would gone out of their way to make sure he was taken care of, not like you had.

The moment you stopped talking to him, those small, thoughtful gestures had stopped too. He has noticed, and the pieces had fallen into place.

But he didn't push it. Not then, and not now.

He nodded again, forcing his smile to stay in place even though part of him was disappointed. "I understand," he said quietly. "I'm just glad we're talking again."

And he meant that.

He was happy to have you back in his life, even if there was still questions unanswered. He wouldn't force you to explain what had really happened. You had your reason, and he respected that.

But deep down, he couldn't help but hope that one day, you'd tell him. One day, you'd trust him again to share the real reason you had pulled away.

For now, though, Jungwon take what he could get. He wouldn't push, because having you here, across from him, was enough.

It was more than enough.

Chapter Ten

After the dinner, your friendship with Jungwon began to feel like it had slipped back into the comfortable rhythm it had in high school.

The awkwardness of lost time seemed to melt away, replaced by an easy companionship.

Whenever you both had free time, you found yourselves spending it together—catching dinners, window shopping, or simply grabbing snacks for a quick break.

This time, it was Jungwon's idea to got to the movies after he learned you were eager to see the latest release in a series you'd both followed.

The two of you sat through the film, laughing at the same parts and exchanging quiet comments, surrounding the both of you with warm and familiar atmosphere.

As you sat in the car on the way back, a thought crossed your mind. Jungwon had been spending so much time with you lately, always eager to hang out, always suggesting things to do.

It made you wonder.

Did he have other friends?

Friends he shared these kinds of moments with?

You hesitated for a moment before asking. "So... do you hang out like this with your other friends?"

Jungwon glanced at you briefly before returning his attention to the road, his brows slightly raised at the question.

"Friends?" He repeated, as if to make sure he heard you right. You nodded, curiosity getting the better of you.

"I mean, I do have friends" he said, shrugging slightly. "But they don't really like doing this kind of stuff."

The answer surprised you a little, and it made you wonder something else. You knew he was good-looking, kind, and had that natural charm about him.

Surely, he'd had a girlfriend at some point, right?

But before you could ask directly, you found yourself hesitating.

Was that too personal?

You didn't want to pry but the curiosity kills you at the moment.

"I'm sure you've done these things with a girl before, though..." You said it casually, hoping it wouldn't sound too invasive, your gaze shifting out the window to avoid his reaction.

To you surprise, Jungwon chuckled softly. "No, not really."

Your head snapped toward him in shock. "Really?" The disbelief in your voice was clear.

Jungwon nodded, his expression calm and sincere. "Yeah, I've never had a girlfriend."

You blinked, trying to process that. Jungwon? Never had a girlfriend?

It was hard to believe, given how many girls had swooned over him back in high school—and probably still did. He seemed so...put together.

You were at a loss for words, but Jungwon didn't seemed to mind your reaction.

"Well," he said, a playful lilt to his voice, "if you know someone, maybe you could match me up."

His suggestion caught you off guard, and suddenly, a small but sharp pang shot though your chest, like a sting you weren't expecting.

You blinked in surprise, forcing a smile, but deep down, it hurt in a way you hadn't anticipated. You didn't understand why.

Why did the idea of introducing him to someone else—someone who might catch his interest—bother you so much?

The thought of seeing him with another girl, laughing, and sharing the same moments the two of you had been enjoying lately, made something inside of you twist.

Quickly, you shook your head. "I don't think I can do that." you said, trying to keep your voice casual.

Jungwon seemed confused for a moment. "Why not?" he asked, his tone still playful, unaware of the strange ache his words had caused.

You bit your lip, searching for an excuse. "I don't know any women around your age," you finally said, managing to sound nonchalant. "Most of my friends are close to my age."

It was true; you were twenty-two years old, surrounded by a vibrant group of friends your age, all still navigating the ups and downs of college life together. Your felt sense of comfort and camaraderie among them, but when it came to Jungwon, everything was different.

You couldn't help but wonder if he would actually consider dating someone younger. Surely, a guy like him would be interested in a women who were around his age—twenty-seven or older, women who had their lives more figured out than you did.

Jungwon fell silent for a moment, as if considering your response. Then, with a soft smile, his voice quieter, more serious than before said,

"Around your age, huh?" He looked at you, and there was something in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat.

"I'm fine with that."

His words hug in the air, leaving you momentarily speechless. There was something about the way he said it—something gentle but also bold, like he was hinting at something more.

The pain that you felt earlier sudden disappeared, totally gone like it didn't happen, only to be replaced with a quick beat of your heart and warmth spreading across you cheeks.

Was he... implying something?

You looked away, quickly, trying to steady yourself. Your thought were suddenly racing, a strange fluttering sensation stirring in your stomach. You weren't sure how to respond, or if you even should.

A part of you wanted to brush it off as causal banter, but the way he had look at you made it had to dismiss.

And then there was your heart, beating a little faster, making you wonder if maybe just maybe, this was more than just two old friend reconnecting.

As the weeks passed, your time with Jungwon grew more frequent and comfortable. Each outing felt like a glimpse into a friendship that had been rekindled, a spark that had never truly gone out.

You found yourselves laughing more often, sharing more stories, and creating new memories that felt just as precious as those from high school.

Being with Jungwon very often can't help but make you realize some moments that made you wonder if there was something more between you two.

During a spontaneous lunch one afternoon, Jungwon had leaned closer, whispering a joke that made your stomach flutter.

The way he looked at you sometimes, with that gentle smile and twinkling eyes, sent your heart racing.

Sometimes, you caught him watching you with fondness when you laughed, his gaze lingering a little too long, and each time you felt an electric thrill dance down your spine.

One day, as you were both walking through a local park, he playfully nudged you with his shoulder and said, "You know, I really like spending time with you. You make everything more fun."

You brushed it off, laughing it off lightly, but inside, your mind was racing.

Was he just being friendly? Or was there something deeper behind those words?

Then, one evening, everything took a turn. Your dorm experienced a power outrage, leaving you with no way to study for your major exam the next day. You felt a wave of panic wash over you. You needed to review, and the library was already closed.

However, Jungwon didn't hesitate to invite you to his apartment after hearing your situation.

"It's no big deal," he assured you, his voice warm and inviting. "I'll inform your parents and Ni-ki."

His last words gives you so much assurance to accept his kind offer.

Once inside his apartment, you immediately settled in at his dining table, books sprawled out around you. You tried to focus, flipping through your notes and practice problems, but the anxiety of the impeding exam loomed over you like a storm cloud.

As the minutes turned into an hour, you found yourself staring blankly at a particularly difficult math problem, your frustration mouthing with each failed attempt to solve it.

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. The numbers seemed to blur together, and your concentration slipped further away.

Jungwon passed by but quickly halted when he saw your miserable expression.

"You okay?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

You sighed dramatically. "I'm fine, just struggling with this problem"

He stepped closer, brow furrowed as he glanced at the paper in front of you. "Want me to take a look?"

Before you could respond, he pulled up a chair beside you, towel still draped around his neck from a shower, water droplets glistening in his tousled hair.

You couldn't help but stare, feeling a rush of warmth in your cheeks.

There was something effortlessly charming about him, even in such a casual state.

As he leaned over to see your work, your heart raced. It felt so nostalgic, the way he was explaining the problem to you, reminiscent of those afternoons in middle school when he'd patiently guided you through your studies. His voice was calm and reassuring, and you found yourself hanging on his every word.

But then, something on the table caught your eye. There, beside your notes, was the mug you had gifted him ages ago—the one with the garden design that reminded of you of his name.

The very reason you had stopped sending him gifts and pulled away.

The sight of the mug stirred something within you, a mix of nostalgia and warmth.

He kept it?

I thought his friends don't like it?

"Hey, is this the problem you're stuck on?" Jungwon's voice snapped you back to the present, his brow raised in curiosity.

"Yeah," you admitted, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the emotions swirling inside you. "I just can't wrap my head around it."

He studied the problem for a moment before his fingers brushed against yours as he pointed to the paper. You felt a jolt of electricity at the contact, and your heart raced again. Jungwon's closeness, his focus on you, everything felt changed with an energy you couldn't ignore.

"This part is tricky," he explained, his voice steady and clear. "But if you look at it this way..."

As he walked you through the steps, you felt a sense of comfort was over you. His presence was calming, and the way he spoke made everything feel manageable.

You focused on him, on the way his eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he explained the concepts. You were reminded once more of how much you valued not just his help but his company.

And as he continued, something deeper began to stir within you, a growing awareness of your feelings. It was becoming increasingly clear that your feelings for Jungwon didn't die down, not a single thing.

You were still in love with him.

And seeing that mug, healed something inside of you.

As you worked through the problem Jungwon had just explained, you could feel his presence lingering beside you. He hadn't left your side after finishing his explanation, and though he was silent, you couldn't share the feeling of his gaze on you. Your eyes stayed fixed on your notebook, but the heat in your cheeks grew as you became increasingly aware of him.

You stole a quick glance from the corner of your eye, and your heart skipped a beat.

Jungwon had his head resting on his arm, lying on the table just inches away, his eyes soft as he watched you. He looked so at ease, but there was a gentleness in his gaze that made your pulse race. His other arm lay near the open notebook, as if he was still ready to help but, at the moment, was more focused on you than on the math problem in front of him.

Feeling flustered, you looked down again, trying to concentrate on the numbers, but his gaze felt as tangible as a touch. You shifted in your seat, forcing yourself to refocus, yet you could still feel him looking at you, and it was making you incredibly self-conscious.

When you finally turned to him, cheeks flushed, you managed to stammer, "I-Is something wrong?"

Jungwon chuckled softly, lifting his head just a little to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was gentle, warm, and it made you freeze. He smiled, his voice a quite murmur, "Yeah, you look beautiful today."

Your heart immediately fluttered and a rush of warmth filling your chest as his words sank in. He kept his gaze steady on you, his expression unwavering and full of something that made you breathless.

"And it makes my heart go crazy," he added, leaning back slightly but never breaking eye contact. His eyes held a playful glint, but there was also something deeper, more serious.

You felt your cheeks grow even warmer as your tore your gaze away, attempting to hide the way his words affected you.

"D-don't be ridiculous," you mumbled, trying to downplay the fluttering in your stomach, even though you were sure he could see right through you.

Jungwon's smile widened, clearly amused by your reaction. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed," he teased, and you shot him a look of mock annoyance, though your blush betrayed you.

"Stop distracting me, I'm trying to study," you replied, attempting to sound stern but failing miserably as you couldn't help but smile.

Jungwon leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, still watching you with that soft look. "Alright, alright, I'll behave. But hey," he added, his tone becoming more thoughtful, "after your exam, if you're free, maybe we can go out and celebrate? Just the two of us?"

You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat at the hint of excitement in his eyes.

"Yeah," you replied, smiling shyly, "I'd like that."

He nodded, seeming pleased, and you noticed a spark in his expression, ad if he'd already made up his mind about something.

He turned his attention back to your notebook, giving you space to study, but you could still feel the warmth of his lingering presence. It felt comforting, steady and you couldn't help but feel that this moment was the beginning of something more.

After days of studying and pouring all your energy into the exam, the moment finally arrived. As you left the exam room, a wave of relied washed over you.

You'd given it your all, and now, the excitement of the evening with Jungwon took over your thoughts. He'd promised a celebration, and you were determined to make it one worth remembering, regardless of the results.

You met him outside, where he greeted you with a warm smile. "Ready?" he asked, his eyes shining with anticipation.

You nodded, and he led you to a narrow spiral staircase that wound up the side of a building. Just as you reached the base, he extended his hands, gently holding yours to guide you up. You felt your cheeks warm at the touch, but his grip was steady and reassuring.

He seemed to sense your nerves, giving your hand a slight squeeze as you climbed the stairs together.

When you finally reached the top, you gasped at the sight ahead of you.

Spread across the rooftop was a cozy setup: a blanket laid out under a canopy of string lights that twinkled like stars, a small table with a cake and some snacks, and a perfect view of the city skyline glowing against the evening sky. The lights of the city stretched out before you, painting a breathtaking scene.

Turning to Jungwon, you felt a surge of emotions welling up. He'd gone through so much trouble for this moment, and you hadn't even received your exam result yet.

"Jungwon... you didn't have to do all this," you said, your voiced tinged with both gratitude and a bit of worry.

"But I wanted to," he replied softly, meeting your gaze. There was sincerity in his eyes that made your heart flutter. "You worked so hard. You deserve a celebration, no matter what."

You gave him a small, grateful smile, and you both walked over to the edge of the rooftop, where you settled by the railing. As you admired the view, you found yourselves talking easily—about your exam, Jungwon's latest projects at work, and everything in between.

The conversation was light, punctuated with laughter, and the atmosphere felt intimate and warm.

As you finished a bite of cake, Jungwon suddenly cleared his throat, drawing your attention. He seemed a little nervous, which was unusual for him, and it made you raise an eyebrow curiously.

"So," he began, a small smile playing on his lips, "you said last time that someone was recently trying to get your attention, right?" You nodded, confirming that someone from another department in your college was indeed trying to pursue you. "What happened with that?"

"I turned him down. I don't have any feelings for him, and I felt bad letting him continue pursuing me without any feelings on my part. I might lead him on and waste his time." You took another bite, savoring the sweetness as Jungwon watched you intently. "Besides, I was too busy with school."

"So, if you weren't busy," he said, a bit more casually, "what kind of guy would you go for?"

You thought for a moment, pretending to consider it seriously. "Well... he'd have to be handsome," you said with playful grin, watching as Jungwon subtly brushed a hand through his hair, giving you a self-assured smile in response.

"Good temper?" he asked, as if he was mentally checking off boxes.

"Definitely," you agreed. " And he'd have to be at least this tall." You raised you hand above your head, gesturing a bit higher than his height.

With a chuckle, Jungwon straightened straightened his posture, lifting his chin proudly to meet the mark.

You giggled at his antics, playfully nudging him. "And, of course, he should be kind."

Jungwon looked thoughtful as he turned his gaze to the city lights. After a brief pause, he glanced back at you, a hint of vulnerability in his expression.

"You know..." he paused, nervous starting creeping up on him.

"...I think I possess the qualities you mentioned."

Your heart skipped a beat as you froze, fork halfway to your mouth. His eyes held yours, and he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.

"That's why I wanted to ask you..." He hesitated, his tone suddenly soft and serious. "Can I be the man who gets to be part of your life? To stand by your side, to laugh with you... to make you smile like this?"

You stared at him, feeling an overwhelming mix of emotions. Jungwon was offering you something you'd dreamed of, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were floating in a dream.

The boy you'd admired since middle school, the one who had occupied your thought through the years, the one who you silently cheering on the sidelines when he practicing for a football game, the one you effortlessly make pack gifts to cheer him up during game season... was here, confessing that he felt the same way.

It was the kind of moment you'd only ever imagined, a quiet hope you'd carried through so many stages of your life, never quite believing it would come true.

Your heart raced as you took it all in—the warmth in his gaze, the way he looked at you with such tenderness. It was like you were suspended in a beautiful, beautiful, fragile dream, and a small part of you feared that if you moved or spoke, you might wake up, and this moment slip away.

But it was real, he was real.

And he was right here, waiting for you, giving you the space to breath and to let the reality of his words sink in.

You felt a spark that immediately sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach when he reached for your hand and caressed it gently. He gave you a soft smile and continued, "You don't have to answer me right away. Take your time, okay? I just wanted you to know how I feel."

You could feel your checks warming, your pulse quickening, but there was a sense of calm that washed over you too. You squeeze his hand as you managed to whisper,

"Just so you know... the feeling is mutual."

Jungwon's face lit up with a soft, genuine smile, with his dimple deepening that you really love. You felt his thumb brushing over you knuckles that sent another waves of butterflies on your stomach.

He seemed content with the simple connection, knowing that there was no rush, and that the possibility of something beautiful had just begun to unfold between you.

The two of you continued to talk, your words filled with quite hopes and lingering glances.

Jungwon felt a quiet contentment settle within him, knowing he could now pursue you openly, with no reservations—only the pure, genuine love and admiration he held for you, hoping that his feelings would eventually find their way to your heart.

The days that followed Jungwon's quiet confession felt like a gentle unfolding of a dream you hadn't realized could be real.

True to his word, he started showing you, in every little way possible, how much he cared. From bringing you coffee on mornings when he knew you had early classes, to waiting for you outside the library after late study sessions, his gestures were sweet, consistent, and undeniably meaningful.

He was there with small surprises—an extra jacket when he noticed you'd forgotten yours, or a quick note tucked into your notebook remining you to take a break. And every time you looked up, he'd be watching with that soft, affectionate gaze that made your heart skip a beat.

It wasn't just the small gestures, either. When he found out you'd been stressing about an upcoming presentation, he organized a mini study session at his place, complete with snacks and calming playlist. And when he saw how nervous you were, he even practiced with you, listening intently, giving you feedback, and reassuring you that you were more than capable.

His consistency, his warmth, and the way he openly showed how much he liked you made you felt cherished in a way you hadn't expected.

And now, after a long day out together—an impromptu dinner date that had him sneaking you off to his favorite hidden restaurant—Jungwon was walking you back to your dorm.

His fingers were intertwined with yours, his thumb gently brushing against you knuckles as you both strolled through the quiet campus, sharing laughs and reliving moment from your date.

All of that with your pink purse dangling on his shoulder, a sight that made you giggle at how casually he carried it unbothered by how girly it looked on him. He wore it with a smile, squeezing your hand every now and then, as if to reassure you that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

As you strolled through the quite campus, your phone suddenly rang, and when you glanced down, you saw it was Ni-ki.

You answered immediately, expecting his usual check-in, half expecting his usual teasing tone, but instead, his voice came through dark and uncharacteristically stern.

"Have you arrived at your dorm?" he asked, and the strictness in his voice made you pause.

You glanced up at Jungwon, who squeezed your hand reassuringly, his warm smile grounding you. "Almost," you replied softly, trying to keep the peace.

"What's the matter?" you asked, hoping to keep things light.

There was a pause, and the Ni-ki's voice lowered even more. "There's a girl holding hands with a guy on campus right now..."

You were confused at what your brother saying, but his next word felt like someone throw an ice bucket over your head.

"that's you, right?"

You froze mid-step, your heart dropping as you realized what he was implying.

Jungwon stopped too, looking at you with a slight tilt of his head, concern flickering in his eyes. Your mind raced as you glanced around, searching for any sign of your brother.

And then, like a scene straight our of a dramatic movie, you spotted him—Ni-ki, walking towards you with dark expression, his phone still on his ear, eyes fixed on your intertwined hands with a cold expression that made your blood run cold.

"Riki-nii..." you whispered, pulling your hand back from Jungwon's, though he gave you a soft, reassuring look, his calm presence keeping you grounded even as a wave of worry swept over you.

A few moments later, Ni-ki was by your side, his gaze cold and intense as he sized up the situation.

Without a word, he took your purse from Jungwon's shoulder and held it firmly, then mentioned for you to walk with him. "Come on," he muttered, not giving Jungwon a glance.

You gave Jungwon an apologetic look as Ni-ki led you forward, your brother's silent insistence making it clear he wasn't in the mood to talk just yet.

Jungwon followed a few steps behind, hands shoved into his pockets, his jaw clenched but his eyes softened whenever you glanced back.

After a few moments of walking, you finally broke the silence. "I was going to tell you, Nii-san. I just wanted to make sure.... that you'd understand" you said softly, hoping he'd listened.

Ni-ki only gave you a sharp glare. "Understand? You could've given me a heads-up before I caught you sneaking around like this." He looked straight ahead, his face set in a stern expression, guiding you toward your dorm.

You sighed, trying to reason with him as you matched his stride. "We're not even together yet, Riki-nii. I didn't hide anything—"

But Ni-ki cut you off, thrusting your purse back into your hands as you reached your dorm's entrance. "Get inside," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"Nini, please..." you tried, feeling helpless as he kept his gaze away from you, his tone rigid. It felt as though the brother you knew, the one who always teased and protected you, had been replaced by a stern stranger.

Just as you were about to turn to Jungwon for some support, he stepped forward, his warm hand reaching for your elbow, his touch calming you instantly. You looked up, meeting his soft, understanding eyes as he gave you a gentle smile.

"You should go inside," he said kindly, his thumb grazing your arm soothingly. "It's already dark, and you have classes tomorrow."

You hesitated, glancing between Jungwon and your brother, not wanting to leave them like this. "But..."

Jungwon leaned in, his hand moving up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch calming despite the tension between you and your brother.

"I can handle this, okay? Don't worry." He spoke with a calm assurance, his gaze never wavering, and though you still felt anxious, his words helped settle your nerves.

Reluctantly, you nodded, giving Ni-ki one last pleading look, but he remained stoic, his gaze unwavering.

With a heavy heart, you turned and walked inside, glancing back one last time. You watched as Ni-ki and Jungwon turned and began to walk, their figures disappearing into the night.

The sight left a lingering ache in your chest, but the look in Jungwon's eyes reassured you that he would handle it.

You trusted Jungwon, and deep down, you hoped Ni-ki would see thins your way... eventually.

The silence between Jungwon and Ni-ki was thick, almost suffocating, as they made their way to the empty park under a dim glow of streetlights.

Jungwon felt his heart racing, the gravity of the situation sinking in with each step. He knew he was in the wrong for not speaking to Ni-ki first, for not even realizing that what he shared with you would hit his best friend this deeply.

He knew he should have asked Ni-ki's permission before pursuing you, especially since you meant so much to him. He understood the hurt and sense of betrayal Ni-ki must be feeling, after all, they were best friends, and here he was, holding onto a secret that concerned his sister.

When they stopped, Ni-ki remained with his back turned to Jungwon, his stance tense, fists clenched at his sides. Jungwon opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Ni-ki whipped around and swung a punch that landed square on his jaw, sending him stumbling back.

Pain shot through him, and he clutched his cheek, catching his breath. He barely had time to steady himself when another punch connected with his stomach, knocking the air out of him.

He doubled over, coughing as he tasted blood on his lip. Despite the pain, he didn't try to defend himself. He knew Ni-ki needed this release, needed to let out the anger and betrayal he felt.

If this was what it took for him to listen, Jungwon would endure it.

He braced himself, expecting another blow, but instead, Ni-ki took a deep, frustrated breath and ran a hand through his hair, as though he was trying to collect himself.

"Jungwon," Ni-ki's voice was hoarse with anger, "I don't care if you date someone younger. I don't care if you date someone who isn't in our circle. But why... why does it have to be my sister?" His voice broke a little, caught between fury and something close to betrayal.

"Out of all the girls who chase after you, why did it have to be her?"

Jungwon opened his mouth, but Ni-ki held up a hand, demanding silence. There was so much pain in his friend's eyes, and Jungwon knew that if he tried to defend himself now, Ni-ki wouldn't be able to hear him. So he waited, fists still clenched, willing himself to listen, to let Ni-ki's anger run its course.

Ni-ki's voice dropped, his words cutting like a knife. "Tell me, are you the reason she moved here? Are you the reason she wanted to study in this city?" The accusation hit like another blow, and Jungwon shook his head in confusion, trying to process what Ni-ki was saying.

"My sister... she's liked you since middle school, Jungwon" Ni-ki continued, his voice shaking with something deeper than anger. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Do you think I didn't see it—that you were the reason she insisted on having you as her tutor?”

Jungwon blinked, taken a aback. He'd known that you were gifted in physics, but he'd brushed it off as you just being a fast learner.

But the idea, that you had pretend to need help just to be around him—made his heart ache with mix of regret and tenderness.

Ni-ki let out a bitter, humorless chuckle. "She didn't need tutoring. She was already brilliant in physics. But she wanted to help you because she likes you, Jungwon. She went out of her way for you, all without expecting anything in return." His voice softened just a bit, and Jungwon could see the pain hidden behind Ni-ki's anger.

"Do you know how hard it is to watch someone you care about quietly sacrifice for someone else?"

Jungwon felt warmth spread through him at Ni-ki's words, realizing just how deeply you had cared for him, even he hadn't deserved it. You'd gone to all this effort, all the while hiding your own feelings, and now...

Now he'd understood why he was drawn to you, why his own feelings had shifted.

You'd shown him a quiet, steady love, even when he hadn't seen it.

Finally, Jungwon met Ni-ki's gaze, eyes filled with sincerity. "I didn't know, Ni-ki. I swear, I had no ideas she liked me. I thought she was just being kind, trying to help me without any other reason. But now that I know...I can't see her that way anymore. She's become so much more to me."

Ni-ki clenched his fists, his jaw tight as he stared hard at Jungwon, trying to decide if he could believe him.

"You don't deserve my sister, Jungwon" He said, bitterness lacing his words.

The statement hit Jungwon hard, a painful truth that he felt in the core of his being. He understood—you were someone precious, someone worth protecting. Maybe Ni-ki was right, maybe he didn't serve you.

You deserved someone who would give you nothing less than the world.

But that was exactly why he couldn't walk away. He had to prove that he could be the one to give you that.

"I know," Jungwon admitted, his voice low and filled with sincerity. "i know I don't deserve her—not yet. She's kind, selfless, and she deserves someone who can measure up to that. But please...give me a chance to prove myself." He swallowed, his gaze unwavering as he Ni-ki's eyes. "Let me prove to you, and to her, tat I can be the person she deserves. I'll do whatever it takes. I'll earn her trust—and yours—if you give me the chance."

His voice softened, tinged with quite desperation. " I want to be the one who protects her, who supports he. I want to worthy of her, Ni-ki. I may not be there yet, but I'll work every day to become that person. I swear it."

There was silence, the weight of Jungwon's hanging heavy between them. He hoped Ni-ki could see the honestly in his eyes, could feel how much this meant to him. Jungwon knew he couldn't erase past or change how things had unfolded, be he could promise one thing—

that he would never take your love or trust for granted.

"Please," Jungwon continued, his voice voice barely above a whisper, "I love her, Ni-ki. Just give me a chance to show you that I'm worthy of her."

A flicker of doubt crossed Ni-ki's face, and then something shifted.

The hardness in his gaze softened, even if only slightly, as he let out long, frustrated breath. Deep down, Ni-ki knew Jungwon was a good guy. He'd always trusted him with almost everything.

And maybe, as much he hated to admit it, he was a little relieved it was Jungwon and not some stranger he couldn't trust.

"You have one chance, Jungwon," Ni-ki muttered, his voice still sharp but with a trace of reluctant acceptance. "If you mess this up...if you break her heart... I will personally make your life hell. I will destroy you. Do you understand?"

Jungwon nodded, feeling a mix of relief and respect. He straightened, ignoring the ache in his bruised face and stomach, and met Ni-ki's eyes. "I understand. And I promise, I won't let you down."

They stood in silence for a moment, tension slowly giving way to uneasy truce. Ni-ki's glare softened just a bit, though he couldn't completely mask the protective worry lingering in his gaze.

"Don't make me regret this, Jungwon," Ni-ki said, the threat clear but a hint of acceptance in his voice.

"I won't," Jungwon replied, feeling a newfound determination. For you, and for Ni-ki he'd make sure of it.

Back in your dorm room, you can't help but pace back and forth, your mind whirling with worry. Every possible scenario runs through your head, each one making your heart race faster.

You can only imagine what your brother and Jungwon might be discussing right now. Would Ni-ki react calmly, or would his protectiveness take over, sparking a fight?

You've seen him play the role of the overprotective brother before, but this time feels different, heavier.

You pause by the window, chewing your lip as you stare out at the quiet campus, your chest tightening with guilt. You know you should have told Ni-ki about your feelings for Jungwon earlier. You've heard your brother's opinions on dating enough to know that your relationship with Jungwon—his best friend, of all people—might feel like a betrayal.

The last thing you want is to be the reason they grow cold toward each other.

An hour passes, your anxious pacing only making your heart pound harder. Eventually, unable to stand the silence any longer, you grab your keys and decided to go to Jungwon's apartment, hoping he's already back. You need to see him, to know what happened, and—if nothing else—to make sure he's okay.

When you reach his apartment and knock, he open the door, and your heart drops at the sight of him. There's a fresh bruise darkening his cheek, and another on his jaw. He gives you a small, apologetic smile, but the sight of his injuries makes your concern turn to anger in an instant.

"Did Riki-nii do this to you?" you ask, voice shaking with fury. "I'm going to give my brother a piece of my mind"

Before you can turn to leave, Jungwon catches your wrist, pulling you back. "Hey, hey it's okay," he says softly, his voice soothing. "I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

You narrow your eyes, a scowl replacing your earlier worry. "No, you're not fine! Look at you! I trusted him to talk things out, not..." You gesture to his face, a frustrated huff escaping you. "I'm going over there. He has no right—"

Your words were cut off when Jungwon pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as though your presence was all he needed to feel grounded. For a moment, the world quiets, and you feel his steady breaths matching yours, calming you.

"Please," he murmurs. "Don't be mad at him. We already talked it out, everything's okay now."

Your heart softens, but a part of you is still bristling with protectiveness for him. He watches your face, a gentle smile curving his lips, as if he can see the conflict within you. After a beat, you sigh and nod, choosing to trust him.

Once inside, you sit him down and grab a washcloth, dabbing it gently over the bruise on his cheek. Your touch is light, your fingers trembling slightly with worry.

Jungwon watches you in silence, his eyes soft, filled with something warm and unspoken. As you concentrate on his face, he feels a pang in his chest, remembering what Ni-ki had said:

You don't deserve her.

He lets out a sigh, breaking the quiet. "Your brother's right, you know," he murmurs almost to himself. "I don't deserve you."

Your hand freezes, and you look up, frowning. "Stop saying that." Despite everything Jungwon told you about his talk with Ni-ki, the thought of your brother's words cutting him like this makes anger simmer beneath your skin again. "I swear, if he made you feel—"

Jungwon chuckles softly, his eyes filled with affection as he reached for your hand, resting it against his bruised cheek, and leaned into her your touch, cherishing the warmth you gave, with his thump brushing over your knuckles.

"You're too good to me, you know that?" His gaze holds yours, tender and vulnerable. "How did I not see it before? All those years, I was so blind."

You shake your head, thumb tracing his cheek gently. "Don't blame yourself. I never wanted you to feel burdened by what I felt. I just...wanted you to know."

He holds your gaze, his own eyes soft with a mixture of regret and wonder. "You've always treated me better than I deserve, "he says quietly. "Whether it was back then or now, you've always seen the best in me." His voice drops to a whisper. "Maybe I don't deserve you , but I'm going to spend every day trying to."

Your heart skips a beat, and before you can reply, he leans in, his eyes searching yours. "Y/n," he breathes. "I love you."

The words send a shiver down your spine, your heart swelling as his confession sinks in. "Jungwon..." you whisper, voice with emotion.

"I'm sorry I took so long to say it," he continues, his gaze steady and full of sincerity. "I know I made you wait, that I hurt you without even realizing it. But because of you, I finally saw the truth. You deserve someone who will appreciate you fully—and I promise, I won't let you regret the choice you made."

Tears well up in your eyes as his words wrap around you heart, warm and reassuring. You've always struggled to find the right words, to articulate the depth of what you feel, but as you look into his eyes, you realize that you don't need to say anything.

Without another word, you lean forward, closing the distance between you, and press your lips to his in a gentle, lingering kiss. He responds immediately, his hand moving to the back of your head, holding you close as he kisses you with a tenderness that speaks of all the feelings he's been holding back.

It's soft, unhurried, a shared breath that feels like both an answer and a promise. In this single, heartfelt moment, everything you've held in silence, every hope, and every dream, finds its voice.

When you finally pull apart, foreheads still touching, he whispers, "How did I get so lucky?"

You smile, cheeks flushed, heart full, feeling like this moment was worth every hidden glance, every unspoken word. It feels like all those moments—years of quietly loving him, of small sacrifices he never even knew—were leading up to this.

You think back to middle school, how you'd linger at the edge of the field after school, cheering for him at his football games, hidden among the crowd so he wouldn't see the way your heart skipped with each play he made. Ever packed snack, every energy drink left "by accident" on his locker, was your way of showing care without a word spoken.

You'd insisted on become his tutor student, it wasn't because you needed help but to help him with his financial struggles, the extra weight he carried, and wanting to ease that burden in any way you could. Being his student gave you a reason to stay close, a way to support him without making him feel like he was in your debt.

It was never about him noticing; it was simply about making his days a little easier, seeing him smile a little brighter, and knowing you could play a part in it.

You used to wonder if loving someone silently was enough, if perhaps it was the purest form of love because there was no expectation, no demand, only quiet affection. And even though you thought it might go unrequited, your heart found joy in seeing him happy, whether he knew your feelings or not.

But now, as he stand before you, gazing back at you with the same depth and warmth you've felt for so long, fate seems has a way of hearing those hidden hopes, granting the quite wishes of a gentle heart.

Perhaps it was that purity of your love, the unwavering care you showed him, that allowed your feelings to reach him. All those moments you held your love back now feels like steps that led you to this moment—a moment that feels so much deeper because of all the waiting, all the silent sacrifices.

You realize that your patience, your quite devotion, has come back to you tenfold.

In this moment, Jungwon's love feels like it wraps around every hidden hope you held in your heart, filling in the spaces that were left waiting, growing over time. He sees you now—not just the present-day you, but the younger girl who quietly cheered him on, the one who made excuses to give him snacks, who silently offered help when he needed it most.

There's a quiet strength in his gaze, a tenderness that assures you that he won't just take your love for granted, as if he's promising not just to return your love but to honor it, to protect it with commitment that will last.

And you know now that he'll hold your heart with the same care you held for his all those years.

You feel complete.

Like you've finally come home to the love you've always longed for, only to find it more beautiful than you'd ever dared to dream.

As his hand lingers against you cheek, a soft smile on his lips, you know that his love for you is rooted not just in passion but in gratitude, in awe of the patience you showed.

His love isn't just a response; it's a promise—a promise to take care of your heart the way you took care of his, and to make you feel loved every day from here on out.

In his gaze, you can see the same warmth you've held for so long, a warmth that reflects back to you, returned and magnified. Your heart is no longer alone in its silent longing; it had found a partner in him, one who will carry it carefully.

'I might have loved Jungwon too early,' you think to yourself as you take in the softness in his eyes.

But he loved you at the perfect time.

©2024 Demuse Writer. All Right Reserved.

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Bro, you genuinely have no idea how much your “Pride and Joy” fic means to me.

As a guy, I’m not really the target audience for it considering the reader is fem (I know you were self-indulging and that’s freaking awesome /sincere) but, man, I love it so much. I personally struggle with having the confidence to show literally anyone, even my very closest friends, my self-ship with Puzzles because of how little I see him being self-shipped with a guy. So, to have a fic were Puzzles outright says that he likes dudes means so much to me.

I know the the reader in the fic is fem and Puzzles stays with her (as he should! Gotta make sure my girlies get all of his stupid tv love) but, my god, the little acknowledgment of him liking men means a lot to me.

So, keep up the good work as always!!!! And keep up with your delicious art!!! It’s all truly stunning! Five stars five stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

(and I’m really sorry if anything in this made you uncomfortable or weirded you out. I’m really not good with my words when it comes to stuff like this, haha)

ANON.... THAT'S.... THE MOST HEARTFELT AND SWEETEST THING ANYONE COULD HAVE EVER SAID TO ME..... ;—;

I want you to know this is one of the biggest honors you could ever give me;; It makes me so so SO DAMN HAPPY to hear how much it meant to you. Even if you're not in the demographic for that specific fic, you are so very welcomed into my audience and I appreciate and love you so much!!

No matter my demographic, I want you to feel safe and loved unconditionally, I want you to have a space that makes you feel comfortable and seen because I DO!! I see you!! I see all my guy self-shippers who struggle with lack of content made for them, with finding safe spaces in the community, who might receive backlash even!! I salute and appreciate every single one of you!!

I've been gushing over your nice words for literally 3 hours I genuinely don't think a thank you is enough!! So I made you a little gift!!

I promise you Mr. Puzzles would love you just as unconditionally, and just as loudly too!!

Anyone has my permission to use this base for themselves but this one... is catered specifically to you, dear anon <3