#one day i'll be free of this brainrot

[jays-therapist]

okay last post before i drop off the face of the earth:

So I was kind of thinking about why Nadakhan didn't just nab Jay's ass with the djinn blade. Like I understand that he was feeling vengeful and all after his realm was destroyed, but Jay's capture was lowkey integral to the strengthening of his powers and the creation of djinnjago??? Once Nadakhan was starting to get desperate (and remember, the djinn blade only needs to strike someone to take their soul or whatever) why didn't he just,,, rock Jay's shit?

So, I have three theories that aren't just "the writers probably forgot lmao". One of them is really leaning towards headcanon so... sorry about that.

Reason #1: It's a matter of pride. Nadakhan likes to be in power. He likes to be the one pulling the strings. To manually force Jay into the sword is to admit defeat, in a way. It means that Nadakhan gave up in the long run, it means that when he said, "on my ship, I will break you," he was wrong. It means that no matter how much power he acquires, he'll have always been psychologically bested by some junkyard kid he found in an alleyway.

Reason #2: Nadakhan is a Dumbass. Like he just never thought of that and no one on the Misfortune's Keep brought it up. Well, Clancee did while Jay was cleaning the hull again but no one listened to him.

Reason #3: Okay, this is very dumb and unlikely and it might contradict canon but stay with me. Nadakhan can't. The djinn blade, when in a djinn's hands, operates by djinn rules. Its magic is only meant to serve/fight for others. If Nadakhan uses it, it's just a sword, but if, like, Flintlock uses it, than it's some pocket-dimension teleportation machine. And Nadakhan knows this but he hates the idea of anyone other than him holding his sword. So this solution is never brought forth.

[bunsuuu]

[Caught]

I. Am. Indulging

Anatomy is real bad but it was almost 2 am, I do not care. I might redraw it eventually when I actually want to (I most likely will when the brainrot gets too bad again, give or take in a week 😩)

Besides, I just drew that for sillies

And because I can

[s2pdoktopus]

been around twitter X lately and I've seen the brand of drawing tablet I use give away their product to those I assume to be famous artists in Instagram. I want free stuff too!

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

*runs around the room at breakneck speed* so um. Kaeya’s skin hehe

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE PART THREE

pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fanfiction

notes: Imaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]

warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR

Lucifer paced back and forth in his room, worried. Walking around the large master's bedroom, passing by many piles of rubber ducks he made.

“She should be back by now.” Lucifer murmured to himself, sighing.

His eyes landed on to the framed pictures decorating his walls.

He prayed that Charlie met [y/n] up there, the one angel he trusts. Though, it has been eons since he's last seen her, he wonders if [y/n] changed after all these years, especially after he had fallen from grace.

Did she hate him? Did she miss him like how he misses her?

As he sat on his arm chair, a gold sealed white envelope manifested on top of the coffee table in front of him, pink glittery smoke surrounding the letter.

“...What the...?” Lucifer murmurs, hesitant and cautious, eyeing the envelope. What if it's a trap?

Suddenly his phone buzzed, he immediately checked it to see it was a text message from Charlie.

“I just left a letter on your table, it's from someone you know. I'll tell you everything that happened in heaven but I'll rest for a bit. Love you dad!”

Lucifer smiled though a tad bit worried, he can tell that the meeting didn't go as his daughter hoped. He can only give her time.

Lucifer then now turned his eyes back on the neat envelope, sparkling a little. He turned the letter around to see it was specifically addressed to him, written in an oh so familiar handwriting to him. Unknowingly, just by seeing the handwriting was enough for his eyes to tear up a little.

“[y/n]....” He murmurs, finally opening the letter. Using his sharp nails to scrape off the wax without breaking it or tearing the envelope. Taking out the carefully folded light yellow paper, unfolding it to reveal her letter to him.

My Dearest Lucifer

His cheeks flushed slightly, with a comma after dearest. My Dearest, Lucifer

“Oh [y/n], this will keep me up at night.” Lucifer murmurs with a small dorky smile on his face, his sharp teeth shining against the light, eyes watering.

My Dearest, Lucifer

       It has been awhile hasn't it? A couple of eons since we've last seen each other. You have no idea how excited I was when I heard your daughter would be coming here in hell. I made sure to write a letter in advance a day before her arrival. I have a lot to tell you, first and foremost, I truly missed you. You sly man, you really got married without inviting me. How's your time down there? I hope hell is treating you right, I really hope I'll get a chance to see you again. I hope we'll get a proper chance to talk, I want to personally hear you how you've been doing. I hope you'll get the chance to see the good of humans after giving them free will, I promise to find a way for you to leave and visit earth. I am running out of paper to right on but I promise to help your daughter up here and lastly, I want you to remember that I adore you always.

“Sincerely yours, [y/n] [l/n]” Lucifer softly reads out, voice shaking. It felt like he could hear her as he read the letter. The same kind [y/n] who always believed in him. His heart swells knowing that she's still trying to help in any way she can despite their distance. She never stopped believing in him despite him leaving without notice (not that he had the chance to).

“If only you knew how much I adore you too, [y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs softly, his finger tracing the outline of the paper ever so gently.

“I want to see you again, I have so many things to say to you... So many unsaid words I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you that I love...” Lucifer's eyes widened ever so slightly, cheeks turning red. He knows he loves her and he still does but he also loves his ex-wife, Lilith. Does he? Or is he just holding into something that no longer exists as it was something he had for a long time and now it's gone?

Everything in his life changed, Lilith's love for him changed, he changed.

Despite all of this, [y/n] remained unchanging inside his heart. Sure, Lilith held the majority of his heart but now? He is not sure but he is 100% sure [y/n] never left, he still has affections for the angel.

How can he not? She's the only one who believed in him when he was up in heaven? She comforted him whenever the elders said hurtful things to his ideas.

But now...

Her letter gave him a sense of hope that his decision of giving mankind free will might not be useless after all.

Lucifer closes the letter, gently folding it back on how it was folded before he opened it. Bringing the piece of paper to his nose, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. It brought back memories of his time with her in heaven.

“I'll ask Charlie about what happened up there later but for now, I'll take a moment to process this.” He says with a small sigh. Slipping the folded paper back into the envelope.

Lucifer sighs as he gently places the envelope back on his table, walking to his balcony. Eyes staring up into the smoky red skies of hell, devoid of any moon and stars.

He used to stargaze with her when he was still in heaven.

[y/n] was his moon, who shines during his darkest days.

Waving his finger in the air, specks of golden dust flickers out of his fingers. Forming a crescent moon.

Lucifer leans into the railings, eyes staring at the faux moon he created.

“Moon, tell me if I could...” Lucifer softly sang, eyes tired but hopeful. “Send up my heart to you...?” he asked softly, unfortunately no one answered.

A bit of a timeskip....

It has been a few months since Charlie's visit here in heaven and the next extermination is getting closer by the day. Emily and I are still trying to look for ways to help Charlie.

Sera adores Emily, I am sure that she wouldn't get punished. I on the other hand, Sera has been keeping a close eye on me. Criticizing me. Lute being tasked to watch my every move.

“Sera, this is utterly ridiculous! We should give those poor souls a second chance.” [Y/n] says, clenching her fists as she looked at Sera who was sitting on her chair inside the Seraphim office.

“That is enough, [y/n]. You keep this up and you'll end up fallen like Lucifer.” Sera said sternly, eyes glaring at the [y/n]. “You barely managed to escape that fate before, you could've fallen the same time as Lucifer but thankfully your actions weren't as severe as his.”

[y/n] slammed her fists against the table, angel eyes appearing on her wings with fury, “We aren't God, Sera! Who gave you the right to judge those sinners and claim they don't deserve a second chance?” she exclaimed.

Sera stood up from her seat, anger evident on her face. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! You're on thin ice, [y/n]!”

[y/n] rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over chest, “What are you going to do? Huh? Kick me out of heaven?”

Sera's glare sharpened, patience running thin. “Keep that attitude up and you just might.”

“Lucifer doesn't deserve this treatment! You cursed him to not see the good of people! You cursed the people who have a chance to redeem themselves by taking their life! How does it feel that so much blood is spilled because of your decision?!” [y/n] asked angrily, tears running down her cheeks.

“We have our own souls to protect! This decision wasn't easy to make!” Sera remarked angrily, her wings spread out intimidatingly.

“Protect them from what?! As far as I know, it's only us angels who are a threat to them? If they do something that doesn't fit your standards or the elder's standards they are bound to fall from grace!” [y/n] says mockingly, rage and annoyance evident on both women's eyes.

“That's it, you've crossed the line!”

“You don't want to admit that I am right, angels are such selfish, greedy, and filthy creatures. I cannot believe I am associated with beings whose hands are stained with blood.”

You know, falling doesn't seem so bad.

Strong and harsh winds are blowing against my back, thankfully I still have my wings. It is currently useless, unfortunately. I don't have the energy to flap them to save myself from the approaching pain.

After that argument with Sera, the higher seraphim thought I was already way out of line and disrespectful. I was placed on trial, handcuffed with the type of handcuffs that prevents me from using my angelic powers while it simultaneously sucked the energy out of me.

I was deemed guilty, shameful, and ungrateful and a threat to the order of heaven.

Tossed out of the pearly gates of heaven by none other than Adam, that asshole really grabbed me by the hair.

[y/n] sighs softly, vision blurring. Trying to focus it as she falls from grace. The skies looked so beautiful.

Lucifer would've loved these skies, we've stargazed during the night before. When he was still in heaven with me.

Lucifer, I can see Ursa Major tonight. Someday, I'll bring you back here on the surface and stargaze like we've always do. No matter how many stars are in the sky, you always take my attention. You're like my star, you shine so bright and so pure.

I'll join you in the pits of hell, I hope you didn't forget about me.

I should be happy that I'm finally leaving that god awful place.

Why am I so scared of falling to my demise?

For a moment, I can see a glimpse of how Lucifer felt when he fell from grace.

Terrifying.

[Y/n] closes her eyes as she finally goes past the Earth's crust. Ichor flowing out of her hands from the handcuffs she had to wear.

“I am not allowed to die, I still need to see him.” [y/n] murmurs before eventually crashing into the fiery grounds of hell, she fortunately crashed somewhere where there weren't any people, a wide space of nothing but dead trees, a hotel can be seen in the distance.

Pain, pain shot everywhere her body. She let out a sharp scream of pure pain. Blood spilled everywhere before she eventually passed out.

It didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She's here now. She'll look for him or Charlie.

She doesn't know Charlie would find her first.

END NOTES: YUHHH THEY'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE NEXT UPDATEE

TAGLIST:

@n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya (I can't tag you </3) @many-fandoms-lover

[dalliesque]

Mr. Nice Guy, Fresh Guy

𐙚 sypnosis let me introduce myself, nice guy, fresh guy of the night (alright) everybody tells you better watch out girl.

꒰ png flirty!HAN TAESAN x fem!reader , fluff , neighbours to lovers , coworkers to lovers , mutual pinning , flirty taesan , lower case intended . cw petnames. wc 890 words, proofread ꒱

yu notes : oh no i think i have the taesan brainrot 👻 shout out to @sanaxo-o for proofreading this, without her this would actually flop 😵‍💫 thank you sm hon <33

𐙚 Wednesday

“let me (re)introduce myself, nice guy, fresh guy of the neighbourhood.” taesan raises his eyebrows in a flirty manner, his hands sliding through his hair in a slick motion before leaning once more on the fence separating his and your front-yard. you hold in a chuckle, nodding. as you glance his way, soon looking away, your focus still solely on the plants in your yard, badly needing your care after being left for so long by the previous owner.

“so..” taesan continues, clicking his tongue watching you curiously. “you free this weekend? you know since i helped you and all” hearing this, your head snaps towards his direction not believing the words escaping his mouth. taesan simply shoots you a wink, and you can't help but to chuckle. your head returning to it's original position, fixed on the plants.

thinking about it, his words were true. he did help you with stuff (moving things around to your new house, since he's strong and all;) and what's the hurt in repaying the favour and let him take you out? wait.. is this a date? “i can make time for you.” you reply to his words, which did take a bit longer than it's supposed to be. a shit eating grin slowly appears in taesan's face. so shitty you can feel it from the back of your head actually, “i can feel your stupid grin from here” you roll your eyes playfully, looking back at him spraying a bit of water his way.

taesan laughs as he dodges the water you're spraying mercilessly towards him. “is this your way to repay my deeds?”—”no but it would be if our hang out isn't a date” “oh.” taesan stops dodging the water fully just standing there while staring right at your eyes. a little smirk on his face. oh how bad you want to wipe it away from his stupidly handsome face. taesan lets out a chuckle, about to jump over the fence. “i'll spray you with the jet if you get any closer!!”—”fine!!”

𐙚 Thursday

“can you rate how excited are you for the date from 9 to 10?” taesan appears behind you, whispering close to you. his warm breath tickles your ear, sending shivers down to your spine making you almost jolt out in surprise. “a hello would be nice??!”—”hello” you roll your eyes, sighing as you shake your head in disbelief. what the hell is he doing in the ladies locker room? “what are you doing here? it's the ladies lock—” you pause, oh there's no such thing as a ladies locker here. a smirk grows on taesan face, leaning in on the lockers.

“this is not the changing room babe” you scrunch your nose looking away, feeling heat from your neck slowly going up your cheeks from the embarrassment. oh how you wish to just dissappear under a big rock. “don't call me that.” you utter, going back to your locker to continue arranging your stuff. “oh sorry, i was just warming up. who knows i'll use it often in the future” your whole face is crimson red by now, forcing you to exit the shared locker room “hey wait you haven't rate the date yet!” “it's still in two days!!” “well should we do it now?”

𐙚 Friday

“one more day.” taesan teasingly whispers, his voice entering your ear gently and swiftly exiting the place as if nothing had happened. as if he didn't relentlessly tease you today, and as if his words wouldn't bother you the whole day and of course not forgetting the playful wink he'd send you before going out through the door. this is really bad for your heart. it's the second day of your shift here on the pizza store, but you're already pondering whether to quit or not. he really knows your weak spots. you thank the universe for making him work in the delivery rather than cashier or anything else involving being close to you 24/7. cause you would definitely would not survive.

𐙚 D-DAY(TE)

taesan rests his head on the palm of his hand looking at you intently as you twirl the pasta around your fork nervously. “look at my eyes” you give him a quick glance before holding in your laugh, looking back at your plate. “stop looking at me that way!”—“with these sexy eyes of mine?” you roll your eyes playfully still not looking his way. “oh come on just give in my shawty”—“shut up!!” taesan let out a small ‘ouch’ when you nudge his legs with your own under the table. he soon laughs holding his hand up in surrender. “atleast you're looking at my eyes now.”

you smile, okay, maybe his eyes are... what's the word? sexy? no, not that, but whatever the way to describe his shining, shimmering eyes, you wouldn't be able to say it out loud. it would obviously bruise your ego. “swooned by the nice guy's charm?” taesan raises his eyebrows, a mischievous smile overcoming his lips. yeah, that's it his eyes are charming, and yes, you probably did get swooned by the ‘nice guy's charm.’

striked cannot be tagged !!

@ :: @gyuvinreblog , @hyunhanie , @keii-starz , @starryriize , @eun-luv , @bambisnc , @intakstars , @enhacolor

@yochubi

[binniesbooks]

HI FAYEEE hruuu?!?! Missed requesting fics from u uheheeu. so ermmm i watched the new txt vlog in us and holy shithffj huening got so fucking buffed rn and im legit having a huening brainrot rn😭

Soo if u dont mind, may i request a dom!hueningkai x sub!readerrr

Scenario is reader and hueningkai are only together for a few months. The boys and you went to a bar to drink and the members teased kai for being so obsessed with reader and like a "perv" type? is that what u call it IDK and reader knows kai as a like very shy type boy so its kinda hard to believe. BUT, when they get home, huening snapped and proved that he's not innocent and shit. She didint knew that huening got so strong and buff. (rest is yours to write:))

Idk if this is good enough but feel free to ignore this if u get uncomfortable with my request!!

• SWEET LIES

HK 002 .F22 2024

wc 3k

pairings slightdom!Kai x subfem!reader

warnings safe sex, slight dom heuning kai, choking, oral (f receiving), marking, spanking (+ anything else I missed)

faye's note I didn't actually expect that someone would miss requesting from me??? 😖❤️ Sorry, this took me so long to finish this too ☹️☹️ but yesss! Buff Kai! Fuck fuck fuck 🙂‍↕️

p.s. I just got home again from uni, immediately pulling out my phone to post this lolololol

It had only been five months since you started dating Heuning Kai, and each day felt like a new adventure. His smile was infectious, and his laughter was a melody that lingered long after conversations ended.

He's a sweet guy, not so shy but not so laid back. In public, he was charming, the boy-next-door type who could melt your heart with just a glance. To anyone else, including you, he seemed innocent—perhaps even a little shy.

"Kai, do you mind going with me to the grocery store after class? I've run out of stocks." You leaned a bit, whispering to your seatmate—Kai, your boyfriend.

Kai glanced back at you, giving you a reassuring smile.

"Sure, let's go later," he said, patting your head.

Eyes were always watching you. Inside the school premises, on your morning walks, in the grocery—anywhere.

You could only smile to yourself, because who wouldn't? Kai, the famous and versatile band member of your campus, started dating you. He is known to be shy among others, therefore people were shocked to see you two dating.

You held his hand, walking side by side, squeezing it thrice, silently signaling the "I love you" unknown to him.

Kai pays for your groceries most of the time. He never lets you spend a single cent, even when you insist. Therefore to at least give back to him, you often visit him with groceries and gifts too. Because even though you're independent, you feel bad that he was the only one who was spending money.

Your take on dating? 50-50.

But these days, Kai started giving you expensive gifts. He has been giving you perfumes, jewelry, clothes—anything that costs a fortune because of its brand name.

Kai is a sweet boy. The sweet and gentle type of boyfriend. Takes you on cute picnic dates to entertaining arcade ones. Kisses the top of your head, and your forehead, and intertwines your fingers. Sings a song for you, serenading you when you're sulky. --- you couldn't ask for more.

So when he invited you to one of his friends's parties, you gladly obliged.

"Y/n, do you wanna go with me to the party tomorrow night? I also want my hyungs to see you in person," he asked on one of your usual Friday movie nights.

"Mhm! Sure!" Of course, you're more than happy to go with him. Your heart flutters with the thought that he will finally introduce you to his friends.

"Kai, do you wanna change places tonight? I'll sleep on the couch, take the bed," you suggested. It is because even though Kai sleeps at your place, he never sleeps beside you. He always takes the couch. It's not like he doesn't want to, he just thought that you might not like it. But you, on the other hand, think that your boyfriend is just too pure and cute, so you never ask him to sleep beside you.

"No, no! I'm okay here on the couch. Please take the bed." Kai mutters as he pulls you closer, hugging you tight and planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Are you sure? You can take the bed tonight. I don't mind."

"No, you take it. And have a good rest, pumpkin. I don't want you to have a sore body when you wake up the next morning," he says.

"'M'kay..." you muttered.

"I love you, pumpkin," he whispers.

"I love you, Kai." You pulled away and stared at him for a while. Kai's gaze drops down to your lips as he gulps. It didn't escape your sight, you felt your heart thump a little harder. Is it bad that you want to kiss him too?

He quickly averts his gaze, pulling the pillow towards his body. "Goodnight, pretty. Sleep tight, yeah?" He smiled at you as he laid down on the couch. He watched you trudge towards your bedroom, grunting when he heard the soft thud of the wooden door.

Kai drapes his arm over his eyes, gently shoving another pillow on his lower half.

The atmosphere was electric when you arrived at the bar the next night. The dimly lit space echoed with laughter and music, a vibrant backdrop to the chaotic energy of his friends.

You felt a thrill in your chest, happy to be part of his world, to finally meet his friends. "Hyung, this is y/n, my girlfriend." Kai proudly introduced you to his friends.

You waved your hand and meekly muttered a soft hi.

"Are you sure about Kai?" one of them asked with a playful tone. He's tall, but among the five of them, you can tell he's the shortest.

"Hyunggg!" Kai pouts.

"Hey, don't be like that!" A tall and fair-skinned guy chimes. "My name is Soobin, you can just call me Bin. Nice to meet you," he added as he reached out his hand.

You smiled at him and shook his hand. "This guy is Taehyun, don't mind his comments, you won't predict anything that comes out of his mouth," Soobin chuckles, emitting laughter from the other.

"Hi pretty, I'm Yeonjun, you can call me Jjun." You might be a little judgmental, but you think he's a womanizer. Just by how he winks at you—not to mention his wink isn't perfect, both eyelids closing—and also with the aura he's giving off.

"I know what you're thinking. Yeonjun Hyung is really a womanizer," the long-haired guy cackled, receiving some scolding stare and a swat on the shoulder from the Yeonjun guy.

You sweetly smiled at them as Kai pulled you closer to himself and planted a kiss on your temple. His hand almost squeezes your side as he stays silent with only a smile plastered on his face.

"Oww!" The long-haired guy dramatically cries, making you smile. His group of friends are really different from each other, yet there's something that makes them similar.

"I'm Beomgyu, by the way," he finally adds.

"Nice to meet you guys."

As the night wore on, stories poured out—a mix of warmth, and playful banter, and teasing.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he? ”One of his friends, Taehyun, said teasingly, nudging you with a grin. You nodded enthusiastically, believing in the simplicity of your love, as you glanced at Kai who has been laughing with Beomgyu. You haven't seen this side of him yet, and it makes your heart swell. He looks so comfortable with the other boys to the point that he laughs to his heart's content.

Yet as they sipped their drinks, the tone shifted slightly. “But you know he has a possessive side, right?”Soobin, with a playful wink, chimed in. The words sent a flicker of confusion through you. You couldn’t imagine Kai being anything but sweet and loving.

“No way, you guys are just kidding! He's actually gentle,” you laughed, waving the comments away. Kai caught your gaze and smiled, his boyish charm pulling at your heartstrings.

"See?" you motioned, the two older guys shrugging with a wide grin.

The night continued, filled with games and laughter, but the whispers about his “other side” lingered in the back of your mind.

You returned home, feeling conflicted but convinced of your own truth.

Once inside your apartment, you were greeted by the comforting silence of solitude. But the peace was short-lived. Just as you began to relax, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps behind you. It was Kai, his presence instantly filling the space with warmth. The guys actually insisted Kai to escort you home as you were already tipsy.

“Hey, I'll be on the couch, okay? Just tell me if you need anything,” he said softly, stepping closer. The way he looked at you made your heart race, but memories of the night still gnawed at your thoughts.

“I had a great time tonight!” You said, forcing a bright smile. “Your friends are… different.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Different? How?”

You hesitated, weighing how to voice what was bothering you. But the flicker of darkness in his gaze made you reconsider. “They just said you have a possessive side.”

His expression shifted, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, did they?” He mused, stepping even closer until your back met the wall, the playful tension rising between you.

"But I told them you're just... cute... and gentle... aren't you?" Your fingers fiddled on the silver necklace dangling on his chest.

Yet he moved faster than you could comprehend. With a swift motion, he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you slightly off the ground, making you sit on the drawer just beside your bedroom door, as he pressed against you. There was an intensity in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.

“Let me show you what they mean,” he whispered, a low tone that sent your thoughts spinning. In that moment, the innocence you had associated with him faded into a sultry gaze that spoke volumes.

You wanted to protest, to argue that he was cute, sweet Kai. But as his lips crashed onto yours, all coherent thoughts vanished. Every ounce of confidence you had melted away, and you felt the heat pooling between you, igniting an undeniable spark.

"K-kai..." is the only thing you were able to whisper when he pulled away for a while and lips came back crashing against yours once again. You tugged at his shirt, making sure to keep yourself grounded from everything that's happening. His kisses traveled down your neck, his hands wrapping around your back, slowly unzipping your dress.

"K-kai, please..." Kai felt his cock throbbed from your strained begging voice.

It stirred something inside him. He gently pulled down the flimsy clothing that barely covered your thighs earlier, discarding it on the floor, and leaving you in your bra and panties.

Your hands quickly flew, covering your chest as you turned beet red when he stepped back a little to admire your naked figure. His gaze felt like a black hole sucking you in. "Don't let Yeonjun hyung go anywhere near you, hm?" he warns, his hand reaching out to your face, gently brushing your cheek. "I know him too well."

And it sinks in. The question of why Kai pulled you closer to himself earlier and why he was almost squeezing your side has now been answered. You nodded, your eyes looking for praise from him. And then he moves back closer to you, prying your hands off your chest as he lifts you up and marches his way to your bedroom.

"I'm giving you the chance to stop me right now, pumpkin. I don't want our relationship to go to waste just because of a drunken mistake," he sighs, his huge figure hovering above you.

You shook your head, which made Kai shut his eyes. It seems like he was trying to calm himself.

"Pumpkin-"

"Don't stop, Kai. I need you... Please..." you whined, biting down on your lower lip. It was Kai's last straw—you begging.

He moved with such dominance, guiding the pace and intensity of the moment, the way he manhandled you filled you with a mix of excitement and exhilaration. You were at his mercy, and instead of fear, an overwhelming sense of trust washed over you.

He pulls away, "You're not gonna regret this?" he asked while removing his shirt.

It's not a secret that Kai has a big body build, given that he has a huge frame. But you're not expecting this from him, the guy in front of you is so buff that you almost refuse to believe he's Kai.

He chuckled when he saw your reaction. "Should I pick your jaw from the floor, pumpkin?"

Kai slides his hand under your head before he grabs your hand and lets you touch his firm chest. "Last chance to answer. Are you sure about this?"

"Please Kai. I've been wanting to touch you. To kiss you. To make love with you." Your eyes are glossy from how happy you are. No doubt, he's really a loving and caring boyfriend.

This time, you pulled him, kissing him in the most gentle, loving, and emotional way. His soft lips felt like a cloud on yours. His warm tongue ignites a pit of fire in your stomach. His teeth biting and grazing your lips made you reeling. He pulled away with a string of saliva hanging.

He tucks your hair behind your ear, planting another soft kiss on your forehead. However, you could feel the possessiveness he’d hinted at—the way he claimed you as his, how he sought to leave his marks on your neck and chest. You were a hundred percent sure it would leave marks for a couple of days.

He was a force, the kind of passionate energy you never knew you craved. His touches were both gentle and commanding, and soon you surrendered to the pleasure, allowing him to take control. You don't mind his dominance, right? If anything, you loved it—submitting to your buff boyfriend who's taking the lead.

Your soft mewls and moans made his cock throb once again. And it looks like he's not leaving any part of your body taken for granted.

Your lips were swollen from his kisses. Neck and shoulders littered with hickeys. The soft skin of your arm is filled with love bites. Your mounds slicked with his saliva. Your waist was marked by the tight grip of his hand. Your ass cheeks are red with his spanking. Your plush thighs were marked with how his fingernails dug at your skin. Your gummy walls are clenching on his tongue.

"Kai... K-kai... Hah.. ahh..." You're spent. Yet you're loving how his slimy tongue explored your insides. You gripped his hair, and your soft sobs of pleasure resonated within the enclosure of your room.

He carefully pulled away, licking his lips as he locked his gaze with you. "Wanna know, I don't want to share the same bed with you, pumpkin? Why don't I want to use your room?" Kai tilted his head sideways with a grin.

"W-why?" you pant.

"I can't let you hear me when I touch myself at night. I can't let you see me fuck my fist imagining it's yours. I can't sleep in your room or else I might end up cumming and soiling your bed," he chuckled, his eyes full of desire.

"Kai," you whimpered at the thought as you closed your eyes, imagining everything he just confessed.

"Maybe my friends were right after all, hm?" His fingers started prodding on your entrance. "Maybe I wasn't as innocent as you think, pumpkin. I'm sorry," he mutters, slowly pushing his digits in.

"F-fuck ahh... H-hah, Kai!" You held his wrist as you let out whiny moans. His tongue already made you see a glimpse of heaven. His fingers would totally let you fully see what heaven looks like. Your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your moans until you ended up cumming on his fingers without warning.

Too embarrassed, you covered your eyes as you saw his glistening fingers. Sticky and wet at the same time. You heard him let out a soft chuckle before a moan came from him.

You quickly open your eyes, only to him deliciously sucking his fingers with his eyes closed.

"K-kai that's dirty!" You quickly got up to stop him, but he only pulled your thighs and raised them up. Your ass now lifted from the bed as your back was gently bent. He dipped his head down on your sopping cunt as he slurped on your dripping cunt.

It felt dirty. Nasty, even. Yet Kai seems to enjoy eating you out. His eyes filled with lust when he opened them, looking at you as if you were his prey.

"D-do you mind if I p-put it on you?" you stuttered, suggesting to put the condom on him for him.

Kai hums. You quickly reached above, frantically pulling the drawers to grab the pack of condoms you bought three months ago, thinking you were gonna get laid.

He pulled his pants off, his girthy cock slapping on his abdomen, tip leaking from pre-cum.

Kai winces when you slowly roll the condom on his hard cock. The red tip looked as if it was gonna burst anytime. His hand clamped on his mouth as he watched you wrap him up, muffling any noise.

Kai sat on the bed, leaning on the headboard just beside you. "Take a seat," he motioned, tapping his lap.

As a good girlfriend, you gladly obliged. Straddling him and lifting your waist, sinking slowly on his erect cock.

Kai threw his head back, grunting at the tight feeling, gripping your waist and landing a spank on your still red ass. Yelping in pleasure, you forced all the way down, letting him fill your insides with his thickness. You buried your face on his neck as he rubbed your back, cooing at you.

"You're so good to me, baby, so good," he whispers.

He lets you feel the stretch for a little while before slowly bucking his hips up, thrusting agonizingly slow in you. His thrusts start slow and gradually add force and speed.

"Am I still innocent, pumpkin?" He asked as he pushed you away from his body, wrapping his hand around your neck, lightly squeezing it.

"Still your innocent and gentle Kai? Hm?" he taunts, even if you can't form any words to say.

Your mouth hangs open, gasping for air as he tightens his grip on your neck. You tried keeping your body still, holding on both of his shoulders.

"Fuck, you're sexy, h-hah..." he grunts. Your mind is hazy with his words and actions. It felt too much, that you started drooling.

"K-kai... B-baby..." Your words aren't almost heard as you were gasping for air.

"Let's do this often, yeah?" Kai suggested as he rams his cock inside your gummy walls.

@binniesbooks 2024

[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

[heartilywrites]

،، 𝓒loser ; G. Tomioka

request guide | masterlist

resume: in where your relationship with Giyuu seems to improve by day.

content warning: fluff ; comfort ; Giyuu Tomioka x fem!reader ; no breathing style mentioned ; r is a hashira tho ; no use of y/n ; not proofread yet, it's one in the morning and i was craving to do the fic, sorry for any mistakes-

wc: 2.1k

a/n: HI 👋🏼 this is my first fic for the kny fandom and im nervous about it– i hope you guys like it, if anyone would like to request any character please feel free to do so, i'm working on rqs for another fandom rn, but my brainrot for kny is strong too and i will 100% be writing for this fandom as well!!

“ I could be wrong, but the signals you send me... Baby, me too.

The sound of rocks being pressured by your feet announced your arrival to the butterfly estate. Your hand holding your side began to tremble while your mind was asking you to keep going, you were there, it was just a couple of steps away.

After a night fighting with a stubborn demon that had injured you below your chest, you assured the kakushi that was assigned to your help how you were able to walk to the estate. They fought with you, nonetheless, but were convinced to help you at least walk while resting upon them for support, by the time you were walking up the stairs your legs were feeling weaker and weaker with each step taken.

Shinobu was talking with the water hashira when your silhouette appeared on her view field. Trying to act as if nothing had happened to you, you straightened back up; in an attempt to greet them, your grip on the kakushi vanished and your legs finally gave in, tripping in front of Giyuu and, if it wasn’t by his fast reflexes, you almost hit the floor.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey, you guys! So good to see you, how've you been?” your voice asked, dragging words and feeling dizzy you hang into the man's arms that now were holding you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm so sorry!” the kakushi was quick to say, bowing before trying to take you back. “She has a deep cut in her left side, has been losing blood and didn’t want to be carried, we could've been here already hours ago.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “My legs work just fine.” you defended yourself quickly.

Giyuu's eyes moved from the slight embarrassed helper back to your face, blue orbs examined the tired traits and the small cuts on your skin.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Here, Tomioka, allow us to take her to a bed.” Shinobu talked, making the motion of move you from his grip, but the hashira was faster to take you in arms and walk to the community room.

A small complaint sound came from you by the sudden move. Your eyes tried to focus on the man and a weak smile met his gaze when he was laying you down with such care and caution, as if the most delicate of things he was handling.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm sorry,” a hoarsely murmur you said, he frowned confused. “You got stained.” your hand pointed to Giyuu's uniform.

His eyes looked down at him first and then back at you, shaking his head a little bit. “I'll wash it off, worry about yourself first.”

The water hashira stayed for a bit while the healers helped you out, first he made sure that you were okay before leaving the estate once you were finally asleep knowing there were very capable hands taking care of you.

If you weren't half gone and also didn’t know any better, such interactions could've been interpreted in different tones, but it was Giyuu we're talking about, right? There couldn't be second intentions in his actions. You've known him since a couple of years now after becoming a hashira yourself, you knew he was the most reserved out of all in the group and it was hard to read him, but you'd try time and time again until you were able to know more about him.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Tomioka!” you called him when his presence was noticed, walking to him, weeks after the encounter at the butterfly estate, completely heal. Now you were in the Ubuyashiki estate waiting for the meeting to start. Ocean colored eyes met yours. “Udon and onigiris.”

Your hands extended a piece of cloth tied up at the very top so it would be easier to carry, inside there were two containers with the mentioned food.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I brought everyone home-made food,” you pointed behind with your head, referring to the other hashira. Everyone had theirs in their hands. Giyuu took the food in his own hands, you move closer to whisper in his ear. “I didn’t get them any onigiris, though. If they ask, don't say it was me.”

You turned back to keep talking to the love hashira after smiling at him, you may never know it, but Giyuu's ears got red by the action. His eyes looked down to the well wrapped food and a tiny smile appeared in his face before walking to his place when the master's voice called for attention, turning his expression back to serious.

If he was to be honest, the way you treat him made the water hashira feel good. He had that feeling of warmth in his chest when you always greeted him with a smile, even if he didn't reciprocate the expression. His face usually felt a bit warm when he hears you laugh at something he just said, his mind would think about you when you get send to missions, would you be okay alone? If you needed back up, would you send for him? Or for another hashira you trusted more? Would it be disrespectful if he followed you in case you needed help? He questioned always meeting his own scolding: You're a hashira for a reason, you're able to deal with anything alone. But nothing could shake his worries away.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What is it?” you asked after seeing a tiny box being left on your side of the table at lunch, days after.

The water hashira took again his chopsticks in his dominant hand. “Open it.” he pointed with the wood sticks.

Your hands were obedient to what he said, undoing swiftly the ribbon, you took the superior part of the box. Your gaze was met with a pastry, the same type of pastry you would get when a mission was set at the south from your location.

At first, you were confuse on how he knew about it, but then you remembered going on a mission trip with him to the south and talking about this place that made the best pastries, how you always bought at least one when traveling near and if your memory wasn't betraying you: you did take him there in the way back after being victorious. Your eyes sparkled with excitement and moved to him, you were met with an expectant Giyuu trying to get a good look at your expression for the gift he just got from last night's mission.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Thank you, Tomioka...” a big smile started to form in your face, feeling the same getting warmer. “I'm... This is– thank you, truly.” your mouth couldn’t make what you wanted to say, but he understood nonetheless with just the 'thank you's'.

You were sure he was hiding a smile with a big portion of noodles in his mouth.

There was this unspoken connection you two had that was getting stronger with each interaction and it was clear to the most attentive hashira in the group (so, everyone, but Sanemi, Obanai and Giyuu himself apparently), the first one to clearly approach you about it was the love hashira, a full-blown interrogation was made by Mitsuri to only you. She had intercepted you one day after training and pulled you aside to talk and made all the questions her mind could think of.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Since when are Tomioka and you so close? Have you already went out together? When did you finally realize he liked you? How did it happen? Did you tell him or did he tell you? Can I be your maid of honor?” where all asked on one breath, making you feel dizzy.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What are you talking about, Mitsuri?” furrowed eyebrows painted your face. “We're just friends... I think we're friends.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Please, I know you well enough and I've seen how Tomioka acts to connect dots.” her arms crossed on her chest, your eyes stayed on hers, blinking a little bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Wait... Oh my gods... You haven't told him you like him!?” she screamed in a whisper, making you shush her, your head moved saying no. “Then what are all those glances and stuff and and why is Tomioka looking happier than usual?”

You shrugged, slightly timid. “He may like someone, but I don’t really think it's me.”

Kanroji looked at you pouting before sighing, tired. “I need to do something about this.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No, wait, you don't have to do anything.” you were so quick to intervene, shaking your head. “It's okay, Mitsuri, if he doesn't like me back then I'll have to move on.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Fine... whatever.” she took a breath in and after a big smile appeared on her face. “Want to go take lunch? Because I'm starving.” she changed the subject, tangling her arm with yours and walking while you laugh a little bit, amused by your friend.

After lunch, another session of training and one of gossips with Kanroji, you left her estate almost late at night making your way to yours with a lantern on your hand to see the way.

Close to the gates of your so called home, your wrist was grabbed. In a quick move you had slammed the foreign body on one of the walls, Giyuu showed a sly smirk when you recognized him and loosened your grip.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Didn't I tell you doing that type of things was a bad idea, Giyuu?” you asked, forcing your smile to stay unshown.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Did you?” his head tilted to one side, taking advantage of your distraction he turned the position the other way now making you be the one against the wall. His face got close to yours. “All that with one hand, I think it's impressive.”

One of his own hands took the lantern you were holding and left it on the floor next to you two. Under both the moonlight and the fire on the candle, his eyes looked darker than usual, but somehow you could distinguish that funny brightness you discovered he had when the relationship between the two started.

Both your arms rested on his shoulders and pull him as close as possible.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Well, I don’t know if you know, but I'm a hashira.” in a jokingly way was said, his eyebrows raised a little bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are you now?” he asked the same way, making you nod. “Must be my lucky day, then, I've been looking for one beautiful hashira that it's said to live around here.”

His hands now met your waist, you smiled. “Yeah? I've heard she has a boyfriend, the water hashira guy.” your fingers were playing with a couple of dark locks.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I think I can take her from that guy, he doesn't seem too strong to me.” a small slap on his shoulder was your initial answer.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “If you keep saying things like that I will send you home, Tomioka, we talked about it.” you warned, serious enough for him to giggle a little bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Sorry, darling, you left it in silver platter.” he purred for a second, his lips brushed against yours for a second before stopping and look you in the eyes again. “Did you tell Mitsuri anything?”

You blinked surprised at the question, how did he know that the love hashira questioned about the relationship between the two of you? You were sure you were alone, or at least too nervous to notice him hide and listen.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Nope, she said she wanted to do something about it, but I stopped her.” you answered, he nodded. “How long do you think we can keep this a secret?”

In his throat, a sound of vibration was made as a thinking expression. “Maybe a couple more months, they think we just became close friends.”

You giggled back. “They don't think that, have you seen how Tengen is–.”

The comment was interrupted by his soft lips crashing completely into yours, claiming them in such a sweet and needy action that made you sigh happy. It was definitely a torture seeing him all day and not being able to kiss him like you wanted to or be by his side just holding his hand, but there was this bet you two made of how long the other hashira would take to notice before you even say anything and you were not about to lose against him.

[the-writer-arrived]

In Sickness and In Health

Synopsis: how does your lover act when you're sick?

Characters: alhaitham; wriothesley.

Warnings: gender neutral!reader; established relationship (marriage); pre-4.1 release so wrio may be ooc; wrio is a duke, so i think he'll have a mansion and people working for him like navia and diluc have (servants? retainers? idk); wriothesley is portrayed to be a bit overprotective, but that's just his alpha wolf side talking lol.

A/N: this will be very self insert of me bc i'm sick and want my two husbands to take care of me :( also we can finally hear wrio speak!!! i melted at his first words <3 AND HIS THEME SONG??? ABSOLUTELY FIRE!!!!

(p.s: today may be my birthday, but this is a gift from me to you all <3 thank you so much for all the support and love <3 feel free to drop an ask, brainrots or just fangirl over the new genshin characters :D)

"I told--"

"Not another word."

You know exactly what Alhaitham is going to say and you really do not want to hear it right now.

The glare you send his way would be """intimidating""" to your lover (no, it wouldn't), if it weren't for the fact that you're buried under the covers, making you look like a burrito (a verycute one, in his opinion).

You see, there was a sudden shift in Sumeru's weather: the week began so very hot, even during the night, but then the temperature dropped and became chilly and rainy out of a sudden.

Alhaitham had told you to take an umbrella and you did have it with you! But it was just a few droplets of rain when you left work, so you didn't bother to use it, thinking there wouldn't be any consequences.

...Well, you felt the consequences when you woke up this morning with a sore throat and a stuffy nose.

Luckily for you, your husband, who's trying really hard to not say 'I told you so', doesn't have work today and can spend the day taking care of you.

Wether he really doesn't have to go to the Akademiya today or has decided that himself, you're not completely sure.

Alhaitham doesn't loom over you nor follow your shadow 24/7 asking you if you need anything.

He lets you do your thing, since you simply have mild symptoms of a cold, but checks on you from time to time, reminding you the right time to take your medicine, drink water and rest.

Of course, if he catches you overworking your body, Alhaitham will gently but firmly drag you to bed or the nearest couch, going as far as carrying you in his arms, if you refuse to concede.

When he asks you what you want for dinner, you jokingly say you want a soup, knowing that your lover isn't the biggest fan that kind of dish.

To your surprise, however, you wake up from your nap with a delicious smell in the air (which is a sign that your nose isn't as stuffy anymore) and find your husband taste-testing the soup he has prepared for you.

"You misunderstand." He says, after you question him about his dislike of the dish. "I don't hate soup, I just find it inconvenient to drink it while I am reading. Now, come eat dinner, I'll feed you."

You laugh, thinking Alhaitham is joking about feeding you.

...Jokes on you, he isn't. And if you continue to resist, he will make you sit on his lap while he feeds you. You obey, fearing you might get a fever from embarrassment.

When it's time to go to sleep, you offer to sleep in the guest room to avoid having him catch your cold.

"My immune system isn't weak, I don't get sick so easily like you."

You feel somewhat offended, more by the fact that you can't deny that, rather than by the words themselves.

Even if what Alhaitham says is true, you don't want to risk it, so the solution you come up with is: spooning!

...But with him as the little spoon.

It is quite an amusing sight, really. You look like you're hugging a giang body pillow by the way you're snuggling your face on the back of your lover's neck. He's glad you can't see his face while he tries not to show that action of yours tickles him.

Feeling that your breath has slowed down and you are asleep, Alhaitham turns around to face you, staring at your peaceful expression. You look much better now than in the morning, which he's glad he took the day off to take care of you.

He gives you a kiss on the forehead, before closing his eyes and allowing sleep to come to him.

'How troublesome.' He thinks.

'But, since it's you, it's always worth the trouble.'

"But, Wrio--"

"Absolutely not, you are to stay in bed while I call a doctor."

You huff, looking away when Wriothesley continues to frown at your sniffing figure.

Fontaine's weather has been crazy lately. One day, the heat is almost sweltering; in the next, it's cloudy and rainy for days. Only those with strong health can endure these drastic changes. Unfortunately, you are not one of those people.

Yesterday's weather wasn't exactly cold, but it was raining the whole day. You didn't have work, but still had one last errand to run.

Yes, you could let the workers of Wriothesley's mansion do that. Would you actually do that? Of course not <3

It was becoming late, afternoon quickly ending and you were starting to feel antsy. You looked at the window and didn't see the droplets hitting the glass, which makes you believe the rain had stopped momentarily. No way you would let that opportunity slip by, right??

Hah, sike!

The moment you step outside, you realize that no, the rain hadn't stopped and you were foolish enough to not grab an umbrella on the way out.

The smart thing to do was to turn back and grab it, right? Yes. That's what you did, right? Nope :D 'Too much work' was what you thought as you stepped onto the streets.

...It doesn't take a genius to know what happened then. No umbrella + very cold rain hitting your skin = sickness!

And it didn't even take long for symptons to appear. Goosebumps, runny nose, cold sweating, sore throat... Although things weren't looking serious, you looked for medicine to keep those symptons under control.

Also, your husband has been very busy with dealing with the Fortress of Meropide and coming home late, you shouldn't add more to his plate by making him worries about a simple cold... At least, that was your plan.

What you didn't count on was to have a fever in the early morning, which is what brought you to the current situation.

For outsiders, Wriothesley seems quite angry at you. However, the truth is that he's angry at himself.

He hasn't been able to spend much time with you lately, having to be up at the crack of dawn and come back home late into the night. As lovely as your sleeping face is, he misses your smile, your laughter and overall misses being by your side.

And now, you've fallen sick and he can't even stay to take care of you. Who wouldn't be upset in his place?

Your husband's tense shoulders relax by a fraction when the doctor tells him you're just with a cold, but he still tells the people of the mansion to take care of your evey need and not let you lift a finger.

The workers think it's a bit of an overreaction on their lord's part, but they know it comes from a place of deep care and affection for you, his lovely spouse.

Still, they are a bit more lenient after Wriothesley leaves for the Fortress, allowing you to get up from bed and do things on your own, but someone is quickly by your side when fatigue wears you down.

Another order the servants received from him is to send him frequent reports about your well-being throughout the day, which... quickly gets tiring...

Thankfully, you decide to take that task to yourself and turn the reports into a exchange of short letters to one another.

I sure hope this is by a (mechanical?) messenger pigeon or else, poor servant running through Fontaine LOL

For the first time in weeks, Wriothesley comes back to the mansion at a reasonable hour! Past dinner time, but oh well, he worked really hard to finish every task in record time just to go back to his spouse.

"What are you doing up and about? You should be resting, my love." He says, after you appeared to greet him like a puppy running to his owner.

"Darling, please, I already spent way too much time in bed. I'm not bedridden, for celestia's sake!"

After a much needed couple quality time, it is time to go to sleep... which brings a problem to your husband's mind.

Considering that he owns a cryo vision, his body is a bit colder than normal, so that may make you--

"I know what you are thinking and you are NOT going to sleep elsewhere. You are to sleep by my side and that's final."

Wriothesley, the famous Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide, the man who can maintain peace in that place by using his words or his fists, will always give up on doing or saying whatever that he had planned and concede to the words of his spouse. Especially when they use that particular tone that leaves no room for negotiations.

Still, it is true that your man's body temperature is a bit on the colder side due to his powers, but that will NOT get in the way of your cuddling.

You wrap yourself with the warmest blankets you have, looking like the most adorable burrito he has ever had the pleasure to love, before worming your way into his strong arms.

Wriothesley huffs a chuckle and holds you protectively to his chest. He has a good health, so he's not worried about getting sick.

"...Is it irresponsable of me to think it wouldn't be that bad to catch your cold?" He quietly asks, not expecting an answer while looking at your sleeping face.

"Heh, I can almost hear you scolding me for wishing for such things." He gives you a kiss on the top of your head. "Rest well, my love."

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

pink alhaitham and wriothesley banners (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

[fushitoru]

omggg gojo at the brothel but he's still a virgin is interesting to me..... like what if he's received/given a little sloppy but saved the main event for reader

yeaa..i've been brainrotting about this scenario. like going off of what @avaults said about walking in on geto at a brothel because geto invited him there for "business,"

warnings: oral sex (m recieving), 3sum at the beginning, 4sum at the end?, sex work, bridgerton era!gojo being a virgin and being gagged when he see two naked women, this is NOT CANON (unless i change my mind).

gojo walks into the room and sees two naked women with geto, one sucking his dick and one kissing him so sinfully.

gojo's trying to gain his senses, because he's just so shocked at the sinful display in front of him. it's so lewd, and he didn't expect to walk into that. but geto heard him come in, so his lips seperate from the other girl's so wetly and he easily turns his head, siren eyes meeting gojo's wide open ones.

"ah, so you've arrived," geto lazily remarks, while the girl at his side trails sloppy kisses down his neck. his free hand is entertwined with the girl licking at his member, taking it deep in her throat that geto lazes his head back from the pleasure.

gojo, now that the sight has finally settled in as reality, blinks. clears his throat. "well, it's absolutely wonderful to know you're having an amazing time. i'll leave you to your squanders---"

"no." geto cuts him off, still laidback, easy. he gestures to the woman he was kissing, just a slight move of his fingers, and now the lady is looking at gojo. as she prowls his way to him, his heart speeds up, realizing the situation he was in. the woman is naked, her breasts and the figure of her body carved softly. as she walks over to him, who is fully clothed, she alluringly glides him to a chair right by the foot of his bed.

"it is an honor to be able to pleasure you, my lord," she purrs, undoing his breeches with a practiced hand. he looks to geto in alarm, flustered yet enticed, as geto waves his hand dismissively.

"make sure you do it softly and don't overwhelm him. it's his first time after all."

a/n woahhh two things written in one day! sorry for the bridgerton!gojo drought pookies. did not have the balls to make this canon i'm still in a dilemma. but pls don't get your hopes up it's like a 2% chance i declare this canon

[just-jordie-things]

If possible, could you please do cuddling headcannons? Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to or can't for any reason at all

remember to drink water and take breaks <3

YES YES YES I CAANNNN also i need to start incorporating choso into these brainrots ok so pls feel free to send stuff specifically for him if y'all have thoughts and ino too i love him sm

gojo satoru

sleep cuddler and there's no escaping from it

he's happy with being the big or little spoon, happy if you wanna lay on his chest, he doesn't care how it happens but he needs it mkay

hopefully you don't overheat bc if you try to scooch away from him he will be heartbroken

he likes to tease about it but really he just loves the feeling of you falling soundly asleep in his arms. loves how you snuggle into him in your sleep

fushiguro megumi

likes it when you rest your head in his lap.

whether he's reading or finishing up a report, it's comforting to have you there. sometimes you scroll through your phone and sometimes you go straight into a nap, he doesn't mind what you do. he just likes to have you close whenever he can

one day you make him lay on your lap while you're both lounging on the couch and he probably laughs at you when he complies

but then he settles into your thighs and you run your hands through his hair and he's out like baby in minutes

so now it's your guys' thing <3

itadori yuuji

likes to have you on his lap

it's his favorite thing to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to his chest. it's so warm and comfortable

will set his chin on your shoulder as you watch a movie or something

definitely whispers in your ear one minute but then is yelling at the tv the next. the whispering is sweet though

kisses your cheek a lot too, you're just so close he can't help it

inumaki toge

prefers to smother you a bit

it was a joke at first, the night he climbed on top of you and went boneless just to hear you laugh

but it was actually so comfy for the both of you that he sorta just stayed there. like a heavy blanket.

wraps his arms around you and tucks his face into your neck and snoozes

he loves feeling your heart beating against his chest. it's the most comforting thing in the world

okkotsu yuuta

if he could have you on top of him 24/7, he'd gladly accept it.

can only sleep if you're on his chest. not just your head, either. your whole body.

he will not be content until your legs are a tanlged mess and your hair is messily sprawled out across his chest.

he needs easy access to kissing your head a million times throughout the night

this goes for casual cuddling too. you're watching a movie together? get on top of him.

if he can't actively lay down, he'll just pick you up and hold you against his chest, just high enough that you can't touch the ground and have to cling to him

when he's on missions away from you, he sleeps holding a pillow against him, but it's not the same :(

kamo choso

likes being a little spoon AND I'LL DIE ON THIS HILL OKAY

he's never been held before he had no idea the amount of comfort having someone's arms around you could feel, and i think he'd be shy about it at first but once he's more comfortable with asking for what he wants, he'll ask for it all the time

you press so close, warming up his back with your chest and pushing your feet between his legs just to get closer

loves when it's late and you're whispering to one another, how you press your lips to his spine and shoulder blades, or rub the tip of your nose affectionately against his skin.

with your arms wrapped around him he can easily hold both of your hands in one of his, and he always keeps them close to his chest all night

takuma ino

finishing off strong with big spoon lover

holding you is the greatest part of his every day, and he's not afraid to tell you. he'll text you on particularly rough/slow days just to tell you how he can't wait till you're in his arms again

if you get into bed and don't automatically settle against him, he will drag you into his embrace. there's no getting out of it

always tucks his face into the nape of your neck, smelling your hair and kissing your skin as he quietly tells you how much he missed you all day

wraps his arms around you and holds you tight against his chest all night. he can't stand to be apart from you anymore than he has to.

[omgjumin]

Collegebf! Nanami and Yn fooling around and making out in the dorms 👀👀👀?? Ugh my head is filled with FILTHY thought for this man 😭

making out with collegebf! nanami kento!

tags: suggestive, making out, choking (kind of, not rlly), hinted hand kink, mentions of hickeys, thats it, gn! reader

notes: literally ME TOO especially after this jjk season 2 trailer just dropped, i am having MAJOR brainrot with this man. (this was supposed to be done three weeks ago but writers block 🤕)

you didn't intend this to happen but with nanami on top of you, his legs straddling each side of your body while one hand is pinning yours to the bed and the other is wrapped around your neck and his lips dancing around with yours, it seems like this was on purpose.

his blonde hair that was once neatly slicked to the side, how it usually is, was now a mess. his hair stuck onto his face, whether it was due to how the hot the room was or how close to you he was, he didn't know and he didn't care. he was all over you, hands running up and down your sides, grasping any and every piece of skin he found. and oh my god, he was entranced with you.

today was the day you finally finished moving into your college dorm, everything was unpacked with the help from your friends, family and nanami, your boyfriend. and to no one's surprise, nanami had already moved in, a week before you did so he had all the free time to help you. and when he found out your dorm was no less than a hallway down from his, he couldn't help but let his thoughts become plagued with you.

"thank you guys. i'll finish the rest of my clothes myself, you can go now. bye bye, thank you." you said as you sent off both your parents and friends. "kento, you too. i don't know when my roommate will be back." nanami hummed softly as if he was in agreement with you but he did nothing to start leaving. "kento, seriously, i don't want to set a bad impression on my roommate by having a guy over already."

"mhm." he hummed once again, not listening to a word you said as he sat down on your bed. "kent-" the words escaped your lips as nanami pulled you in by the waist, hands wrapped around your body as you fell on top of him. you stumbled over nothing but you could've sworn something was there to trip you for you to end up like this. nanami's eyes were stuck on you. his eyes beamed with love but with the hint of mischievousness under the dimmed dorm lighting. his hands and yours were intertwined as nanami tilted his head up for a kiss. you take one glance down at his lips before looking over at the door, your ears perking up for any footsteps approaching. "just one kiss, i swear i'll leave after this." you hear nanami say, although you know damn well he won't.

this is what makes you think, you know for a such a serious academic student, he sure does play around a lot with you. you feel like a teenager again around nanami. you quickly meet his lips which only causes nanami to smile against you. a small hushed laugh comes out of his mouth before he completes the kiss, his hands coming up to push your hair out of your face. the kiss only lasts for a few seconds before you pull away, you aren't going to fall into his trap, well, at least not this time. "okay, that was one kiss, you can leave now." you mention his deal from just a minute ago however, it seems nanami has forgotten this as he hums in confusion while he presses soft kisses on your neck, surely with the best intentions.

"nanami kento, i swear, my roommate-" you want to warn him yet as your voices cracks due to his persistent kisses against your skin, you shut your mouth and just wish really fucking badly that your roommate does not walk through that door anytime soon.

nanami's lips are all over you, his breath tickles down your neck as he leaves small kisses near your shoulder. once again all nanami does is hum at your warning, well it's baseless to him anyway. his teeth tug at small parts of your skin to leave marks of some kind, wanting to mark you as his. as if your phone lockscreen, his initials on a necklace and your very apparent promise ring wasn't enough to show that already. his hands hold your neck, not enough to choke you but to hold you in place. your mouth opens in a squeak, your eyes followed his every movement. you ran your fingers through his ruffled blonde hair, nanami letting out a low groan as you did so.

his university sweatshirt the one that matches yours was becoming too hot for him. maybe it was you, maybe it was him, or maybe the dorm, he didn't know. he didn't get the time to think about it before he crashed his lips onto yours. his hands cradling your neck to get you closer to him as if you weren't close to him enough. "god, i love you so much." he mumbles into your lips finding himself way too entranced with you.

as soon as nanami connects his lips with yours, your heart rate picks up. you swear you could hear it from a mile away. it was beating so loudly but the only thing you could hear was your synced breaths with his. with each inhale, nanami deepened the kiss, his teeth biting your bottom lip, as if pleading for more. nanami needs more and so let him. your roommate was the last thing on your mind as you feel nanami's hand slide under your shirt. his hands are cold but nanami feels like he's on fire.

all you can think about is him, your lips moved together and all you can taste is him. the slight taste of coffee slips right into your mouth, probably from the coffee he had earlier this morning. you can't help but want to devour him more as your lips wrapped around each other. your heart was pounding and your stomach couldn't help but twist in butterflies from the way his cologne filled your senses. a small scent of a fragrant citrus with a hint of an earthy saffron. maybe you smelled hints floral and ocean breeze on him but as you continued to breathe him in, you couldn't help but to get drunk off of him. your head is starting to get dizzy. was it because of the lack of oxygen flowing in you or was it because of nanani, you didnt know but you didn't want to stop.

but then the door handle turned, voices were heard and footsteps coming to a hault. the silence was deafening as you stared at your roommate and back. your body froze in the act, even though you weren't doing anything scandalous (yet), you felt like a deer caught in the bright headlights in the dark. and finally all nanami could do was laugh softly, as your roommate murmed something about being back later. "i guess i get to have more time with you."

"kento, get out."

[leosxrealm]

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴄʜᴍᴀᴋᴇʀ

pairing(s): single dad! Carlos x male! teacher! reader

warning(s): mostly fluff! Carlos has a daughter named Lucia

(a/n): milo and i were brainrotting and he sent in this amazing request. Milo, my love, this one's for you♡ @miloformula123fan hope you like it :]

wc: 1.7k

!not proofread!

"Okay Lucia, do you know where your auntie is?" you crouch down in front of the 4-year-old girl as you question her. She shakes her head, hugging her panda stuffie closer to her. You could see the sadness in her eyes; all her friends had already left with their parents or guardians, but baby Lucia was still not here. You understood that her father was a busy man, so her aunt usually picked her up. It seemed like she was running late today.

You try to distract her. "How is Mr. Bamboo doing?" you question, smiling at her, hoping she would smile back. She does. A bright toothy grin blooms on her face. "Mr. Bamboo is so cool!" she exclaims, her eyes shining brightly, "He protected me from the monster last night!" 

"Monster?" you question, amusement dancing in your eyes. She nods rapidly, her expression changing. "There was a big monster under my bed," she says, eyes wide, and mouth slightly agape. She uses her hand to show the size of the supposed monster, Mr. Bamboo dangling from one of her hands. 

"And what did Mr. Bamboo do?" you question, copying her expression. "He scared them away!" She says, throwing her arms in the air.

"Uhm." You turn your head to the door when you hear someone clear their throat.

A tall man stood there, in a bright red jacket, his hair a bit messy. "Papa!" Lucia exclaims, running up to the man with open arms. He crouches down, opening up his arms for the little girl. "Hi, baby. How was your day?" He smiles at his daughter, tucking her messy hair behind her ears. "Mario asked me to be his girlfriend again! I told him I don't like him and he started crying and only stopped when  Mr. Y/N hugged him," she continues to ramble on, before stopping all of a sudden. 

She smiles brightly at her father, taking his hand, to drag him to where you were standing. "Papa! This is Mr. Y/n," she says excitedly, "Mr. Y/n! Meet Papa!"

"Carlos," the man says, extending his hand. "Y/n. Nice to meet you, Mr. Carlos," you smile warmly at the man. "Please, Carlos is fine," he says reciprocating the smile. "I insist," he adds, after seeing the hesitation in your face. "Okay. Carlos, it is." He chuckles, giving your hand a small squeeze before dropping it.

"You ready to go home, princesa?" he questions his daughter. She pouts shaking her head. "Why? What's wrong?" he crouches down in front of her. "Can we please ask Mr. Y/n to come over for dinner?" She asks him, looking up at him with her doe eyes, quite similar to her father's. "I'm sure Mr. Y/n has his own stuff to do. We shouldn't disturb him," he gives her an apologetic smile. 

Tears pool in her eyes, her bottom lips jutting out. "Please...?" she asks in such a tiny voice that you almost miss her from where you were standing. "Uh..." Carlos hesitates, but seeing the look on her face, he quickly gets up, straightening his clothes. He moves to stand in front of you. 

"Carlos, it's fine," you say, "I understand you're a busy man." "No, it's alright. I want to invite you as well," he says with a charming smile, "I would love it if you could join us for dinner when you're free. And Lucia too," he adds, his big brown eyes almost making you pack up right then and there and leave with them. "I would love to join you two," you give him an apologetic smile, "but I have some work to do right now. It would take me at least a few hours." 

"I understand. Maybe Saturday if you're free then?" he questions, a hopeful look in his eyes. "Um... Yes, I think I'm free on Saturday," you say, a smile gracing your features. Carlos thinks he just fell in love with his daughter's teacher. "That's great! Saturday it is then. I'll text you the details," he pulls out his phone, not giving you any time to think as he pushes the phone in your direction. 

You take the phone from his hand, your fingers brushing against his. Typing in your number, you hand it back. He pockets his phone, turning towards his daughter. All traces of tears vanished from her face. Carlos laughs; he knew it was all an act to get him to do something. Even knowing this, he couldn't deny his precious daughter's request.

You bring Lucia's bag to him, while he helps her with her coat. "I'll pick you up on Saturday. You don't have to worry about driving all the way," he takes the bag from your hands. "It's fine! Really. I don't want to trouble you with that," you try to politely refuse his offer. "You wouldn't be troubling me. It's the least I can do."

Welp, he seemed really adamant about it. You don't think you could have refused his offer no matter how hard you try, so you give up. "I'll see you on Saturday," he says, now, standing at the door. 

"We!" Lucia tugged at the hand she was holding. "Yes, yes, I know, forgive me," Carlos chuckles, looking down at his daughter. "We'll see you on Saturday," he corrects himself. "See you on Saturday!" you wave goodbye to them, going back inside to finish up the rest of the work.

---

You hear a knock on the door as you're fixing the collar of your shirt. You rush around the apartment to get to the door. "Carlos! Hi!" you open the gate to see Carlos standing in front of you, wearing a black button-down shirt, with black slacks; a small bouquet of red roses in his hand. 

"Y/n," he smiles, extending his hand towards you, "These are for you." "Ca- Carlos, why the flowers?" you ask with a bashful smile. "I don't like to come empty-handed," he smiles.

You take the bouquet from him, inviting him inside as you try to find a vase. "I'll be there in a minute," you say, peeking your head out of your room to Carlos who is sitting in the living room. "It's fine. Take your time."

"I'm ready. Let's go," you say as you emerge from your room. You pick up the keys to your apartment, Carlos following you out. You make idle talk with him as you make your way to his car. You didn't even notice it when he opened the gate for you. Giving him a smile and a quiet thank you, you get in the car; he gets in the driver's side.

You reached his house before you knew it, the entire ride filled with conversations. He opens the gate for you again. You chuckle as you thank him once again. Going inside, you were greeted with a bear hug from baby Lucia, "Mr. Y/n!"

"Hi, Lucia. how are you doing?" you ruffle her hair. She takes a step back, craning her neck to look at you, "I'm doing good Mr. Y/n! How are you?" 

"I'm good as well."

"Lucia, at least let Mr. Y/n get inside," Carlos calls to his daughter, a soft smile on his face. "Mr. Y/n, let's go inside," she takes your hand, guiding you. "Okay okay," you laugh.

---

Dinner went smoothly, with Carlos and Lucia both sharing embarrassing memories. In that moment, you felt more than just Lucia's teacher, you felt more like a friend. What really surprised you was the fact that Carlos had cooked all the food himself. You understood now why Lucia had been asking you all kinds of questions the last few days.

"Mr. Y/n! What's your favourite food to eat?

"Hm? Why'd you ask?

"No reason! Now tell me!"

You hear the sound of a door shutting softly. You look up to see Carlos making his way toward the couch, where you sat, his wine glass in his hand. "Is she asleep?" you question the man, taking a sip of the cherry-colored drink. "Yes," he exhales. " She doesn't even ask me to tuck her in anymore," a ghost of a smile appears on his face, thinking of all the times when his precious baby used to ask him to tuck her in with the brightest smile in the world. 

"She'll always be your little girl," you smile at the Spaniard, understanding where he was coming from. "She will be. Always," he says, his words getting quieter with every word. Maybe it was the wine running in your system, but you reach out to hold his hand. Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you try to change topics, to get his mind off that.

---

Half past eleven. Your eyes widen in surprise. You hadn't even realised it had been that late. "Oh! It seems like we both lost track of time," you look at the man beside you, "It's late. I should go home and you should get some sleep. You look tired." You put your glass on the coffee table, as you try to get up. "No wait," Carlos says as he pulls you back by the hand that was still holding yours. 

"Carlos-"

"I'll drop you. You don't have a car"

"Carlos, I'll take a cab. You're in no condition to drive," you say, lightly squeezing his hand once again.

---

"I could've dropped you home, you know?" he turns to face you. You're both standing outside his apartment building, waiting for the cab that said it would be here any minute.

"I know," you turn to him, giving him a small smile. A car pulls up in front of you two. You check it to see that it was, in fact, your ride home.

"Thank you for inviting me for dinner," you start, "The dinner was a nice change. Really, thank you." You give him one final nod, walking towards the cab waiting for you. 

"Y/n!"

You turn at the sound of your name, standing face to face with Carlos.

"Carlos? What is it-?" He leans down planting a small kiss near the corners of your lips. "Thanks for accepting my invitation," his lips curl up into a smile.

You lower your head, your cheeks turning a scarlet red. "Bye," it came out quieter than you hoped. You get into the car, glancing back at him one last time. "I'll call you later," he mouthed. You give him a smile in return, settling into your seat.

---

He didn't.

[satrs]

anything to do with professor rin or oliver omg im having brainrot rn🤲 (btw i luv ur works :3)

ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎Hihi nonnie >-<! I'm rlly flattered you like my stuff and OH MY GYATTTTT THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA BRRRRRRR I never thought I needed professor oliver so bad until now ERORR§$)))§ Maybe I'll do Rin sometime tooo >-<

𝕋𝕦𝕥𝕠𝕣 𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕤!

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; your professor Aiku was meaning to help you with your stuggling lessons. And he already had an idea how to.

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; professor!oliver aiku x college student!fem!reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 1.7k

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT. MDNI! nicknames(good girl ,dirty girl once, bonny girl). doggy. pussyjob(?). dirtytalk. creampie(?).

𝔸𝕃𝕃 ℂℍ𝔸ℝ𝔸ℂ𝕋𝔼ℝ𝕊 𝔸ℝ𝔼 𝟙𝟠+!

"So, Mrs. Y/N."

The mention of your name caused you to tense up, stiffening in your seat as you felt heterochromic orbs stare right at you.

You didn't dare to utter a word, only briefly looking up at the man seated infront of you before your gaze returned back to your thighs, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your flimsy skirt.

"You're failing your classes. If you won't get them back up or get a tutor of some sorts," you would drop out. it was already clear what he would say, your heart almost stopping in your chest.

You felt your eyes sting as you thought about the horrible outcome you so desperately tried to prevent, big orbs staring up at your professor whose lips formed into a thin line in empathy.

Finally, you managed to part your lips, quiet words ringing in Oliver's ears. "I- I don't think I could afford a tutor. But I really can not drop out. I need this, Mr. Aiku."

He leaned back in his seat, staring at your through his lashes as his gaze continued to linger on your face, briefly landing on your almost transparent blouse, getting a glimpse of your bra. He huffed out a breath in thought, eyes wandering around the office.

Your eyes nervously stayed glued on your skirt, heart beating in your chest at the uncomfortable silence.

"I can help you." This caused you to quickly stare up at the man, look of disbelief on your face. "I'm serious. You know, you're a-" he slyly took a peek at your bra again before lightly clearing his throat and returning his gaze back to your face. "a really dear student of mine."

Your brows slightly furrowed at his behavior, taking a glance at your blouse yourself as you noticed how visible your bra was, growing embarrassed as you tried to hide it with your crossed arms, heat shooting up your face.

His gaze was glued to your mesmerizing face, smirk adoring his features at your pathetic attempt. "Oh Y/N." The sound of his voice made you form your lips into a thin line, biting your cheek from the inside in a nervous manner. "There's no need to be shy. It's just you and me."

This was exactly the problem. Alone in the office with your professor- the professor who was quite popular with his students- especially his female ones. There was never even one day where he wasn't the topic of the day among the girls, dreaming and gawking at his handsome self, some even obviously flirting with him.

He loved the attention, he loved it all. But it just wasn't enough for him. He knew that every single girl he taught was head over heels for him or at least found him handsome, including you. But you were the only one among them who didn't try anything with him or flirt with him. This pissed him off, but also made him take a liking to you.

"So, what do you say?"

His piercing gaze made you shift in your seat. You had no other choice, did you? “Alright. When should I meet you-“

“What about now?” Your brows furrowed at his words, looking at him in confusion. He returned you a chuckle, leaning forward and placing a hand on the desk. “What about now? I’m free, you’re free, so let’s start with the lesson now.”

He let a smirk play on his face as he noticed your crossed arms falling to your sides, shamelessly gawking at your exposed bra. “Maybe we could start with the last test you failed, hm?”

You noticed his shameless stare, heat shooting up your face. Deciding to play right into his little game, you pushed out your chest a bit, breasts now mere inches away from your professor's grasp. “What do you have in mind, professor?”

He hummed in contentment at your action, orbs staring up at your face as he poked the inside of his cheek. He remained silent, hand reaching for his papers until he found your test, the grade ‘F’ in bright red written on it.

His finger pointed to the mark, eyes looking at you through his raven bangs. “We could arrange that to a better grade. If you put in effort in my tutoring, that is.”

You bit your lip, eyes shifting to the door to recognize any possible voices or footsteps, doubt filling you at the last second. “Is it even legal to-“

“Bend over.”

Your perplexed expression caused the man to playfully click his tongue, getting up from his chair. “Oh dear, dear Y/N.” His fingers glide along the wooden table, making his way around to where you sat.

His hand let go right as he reached your nervous form, placing it behind you an the edge of your chair. “Don't you think it's time to drop that innocent act by now? Hm?" This made your lips form into a thin line, eyes flickering frantically around, hot breath of the man right at the back of your neck, goosebumps adoring your skin as he whispered against your neck. "Be a good girl and do what I told you, yeah?"

With his next shallow breath, his hand found comfort on your back, soothingly stroking it, smirking in victory as he noticed your form slowly standing up, hands placed on the wooden table as you stared back at him in your embarrassing position.

"That's not bending over, is it?" You wanted to slap him across the face for his teasing tone, huffing out a breath as you leaned in more, slightly arching your back, flashing your panties in the process.

Oliver's tongue swiped across his lips as he caught a glimpse of your flimsy panties, leaning forward until his lips were mere inches away from your ear, a quick peak to your temple causing you to yelp in surprise. "There you go."

Your eyes screwed shut as you felt his rough fingers glide down your spine until they halted right above your waistline, tenderly unzipping your skirt, it soon falling to the ground and leaving you exposed to the cold air.

Your shiver made the man lightly chuckle, hand comfortably placed on your ass, fully neglecting his previous movements as his attention was back on the paper in front of you. " Let's go over the test properly."

You remained silent, back slightly arching more in need, shaking your head in protest. He put away a strand of hair from your face, tapping your cheek in a cooing manner. "Cat caught your tongue?"

Your frustrated groan was followed by a wiggle of your hips, leaving your professor rock-hard in his pants. "Aren't you a handful." You shot him a glare, desperately wanting him to continue his previous actions. But before you could protest, your words were cut off by a pleased sigh when his index and middle finger pushed your panties to the side, gliding in the wetness of your folds.

His thumb soon landed on your clit, drawing firm circles on the bundle of nerves as sighs and low moans escaped your lips. "Focus or I'm going to stop." You bit your lip in excitement as you heard him fiddling with his pants, hand now resting on your rear.

Your face contorted in an attempt to concentrate, failing to do so when you suddenly felt his angry tip on your folds, gathering your wetness on it.

"Mr Aiku, please." Your hand tightly gripped the edge of the table as he repeatedly teased you with his tip, slightly entering you before going back to swipe along your folds.

His breathing turned ragged at the feeling of your wet folds, succumbing to his desires as he bottomed out into you in one swift motion, whine escaping your lips as your eyes screwed shut again.

His firm hand was back on the back of your neck again, lifting you by it and pressing your back against his chest as he began to move his hips. Your back arched more into his touch at every move of his hips, his tip hitting that spongey spot inside of you over and over again. "Yesyesyes!"

He tried to hush you, hand covering your mouth as muffled moans managed to escape his palm, other hand fondling your tits through the fabric. He groaned at the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock, hot breath tickling your ear. "What was your mistake at Task A?" His voice was low and stuttery, low moans flying past his lips at the amazing feeling of your needy cunt milking his length.

You whined in return, lips stuttering as his hand left your mouth. "I d-didn't calculate the cause of- fuck!" Your loud sounds made you bite your lip in an attempt to drown them, hand flying between your legs to rub your clit as you felt yourself nearing your orgasm.

"God. Screw this shit." He quickly pressed you down onto the table, movement increasing as he felt himself nearing his limit too, leaving your mouth hanging open as drool escaped the corner of your mouth.

"Cunt s' made for me. So fuckin' tight." His other hand came in harsh contact with your ass, painting the flesh in a bright red. "You like this, don't you? Getting fucked by your professor. What a dirty girl you are."

You could only whine in return, pressing your forehead against the dark wood as your orgasm washed over your body, eyes rolling to the back of your head and thighs shaking at the intensity.

The tight grip your walls had around his cock was all it took for him to follow you, burying himself deep inside of you as he painted your walls with his hot cum.

You felt numb as you came down from your high, whining in protest as Oliver pulled out of you, legs growing weak. "Such a pretty girl. Felt good, yes?" You mindlessly nodded your head, observing the man behind you as he plunged some of the leaking sperm back into your abused cunt, pulling the thin fabric of your panties back over your folds.

"You did so well, pretty. I don't think you'll drop out anytime soon."

[pekoehoneyncream]

Captain John 'Bravo Six' Price Headcanons

Part One!

Words: 500~

TW: None (sfw)

Part Two

Okay! Here are the promised headcanons!

The brainrot is intense for these boys rn, so the volume of headcanons kinda got outta hand. I didn't wanna slam y'all with the full 800+ words of headcanons that I've made for Price alone, so I decided that I'll post half now and half later.

That said, Thank you all again for the Huge response my poll got, and without further ado onto the The Headcanons!

His preferred drink is Green Tea with a spoonful of honey. He loves getting to sit, relax, and slowly sip his way through a nice hot cup of tea. If he’s in a rush or just needs to wake up he drinks coffee instead.

Takes his coffee with the smallest bit of sugar and no milk. His team argues that three grains of sugar can't make any difference, but Price insists that he doesn't like coffee straight black, he needs that bit of sweetness. The team once tested him by switching out his coffee for an identical cup of straight black coffee. Price's disgusted spluttering showed them that he can indeed easily taste the difference.

Cannot just sit down and do nothing. Always needs to be doing something. This man is a category five putterer. Just goes about absently neatening up, putting things back where they belong, pulling books forward to be level with the edge of the shelf, squaring papers with the corner of the table, wiping down the surfaces, adjusting his kit so it’s settled properly. He’ll do the same to the team as well. Mindlessly untwisting straps, pulling tight buckles, zipping pouches, pulling down the rucked-up hem of Ghost’s mask, straightening Gaz’s cap, correcting a stray hair in Soap’s warhawk.

The absolute worst at remembering names, constantly asking the team what this or that person's name is. Has a little notebook full of reminders that are only useful to him, the privates and FNGs think he's marking down performance notes, but he's just desperately trying to remember that one rookie's name before they leave eyesight. “Price, this just says ‘Michaels - Red Hat’, do you expect him to always wear a red hat?” “No, but I remember the hat, then I remember the face that was wearing the hat, and that face is Michaels'.” “Price, that makes no sense.” “Give that back and get. Have you nothing better to do? Go on, get!”

Paints his nails. He got a voucher for a free spa day as a birthday present one year, it included hot-rock therapy, mud-baths, a massage, and a mani-pedi. He went into it with a ‘fuck it, when in rome’ mentality and just said yes to everything while he was there. They explained that gel-polish is hardier and longer lasting than regular polish, without being super hard to remove like acrylics, so he went with gel-polish. At the time he just got a clear polish, but these days he does it himself and wears whatever colours he wants to. Has his own polishes and his own little uv lamp and everything. He could die on a mission tomorrow, he doesn't have time for your small minded ideas about masculinity. Before he was Captain of the 141, he actually got written up by a superior, not for wearing polish, but for wearing a nail-polish colour that wasn't a colour that's in regulation.

Loves water. Yes in the staying hydrated sense, but mainly in the swimming sense. He grew up with a creek behind his house and he spent every spare moment he could splashing around in it. To this day his favourite place is the beach, or anywhere with a body of water. A swimming pool is a poor replacement in his opinion, but he'll take what he can get.

Constantly loses track of time in the shower, his personal water bill is consistently exorbitant. When he doesn't have time to spare he sets a timer, when it beeps at 5 minutes it reminds him he needs to actually start washing up, and when it goes off at 10 minutes he forces himself to get out. When he has the time he sets the timer for 30 minutes.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

If you have any thoughts on the headcanons or ideas you'd like me expand on or things you wanna squeal about or prompts you want me to write PLEASE hit me up! My ask box is open 24/7 and I'd love to hear from you!

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