#sl fic challenge

[modgirlyreposts-revamped]

Millie's grandpa when he sees CTW Funtime Freddy

[captainsophiestark]

The Richmond Vampire

Damon Salvatore x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: TVD/TO

Summary: Damon's come to retrieve his SO for involvement in some Mystic Falls drama, but unfortunately for him, they're not willing to miss their favorite class at Whitmore, which just so happens to be covering vampires.

Word Count: 1,699

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Hey! Babe!"

I stopped short of the door to my lecture hall, letting my classmates go ahead at the sound of my boyfriend's voice from behind me. I turned to find none other than Damon Salvatore heading towards me, weaving through the undergrads with incredible impatience.

"Hey yourself!" I called out to him with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

Damon huffed at the last college student in his way as they wandered past, before turning his attention to me.

"I need your help. We've got... business we need to take care of."

The smile immediately dropped off my face. I'd been dating Damon long enough to know that 'business' was code for some supernatural problem that had somehow managed to follow us out of Mystic Falls. I shook my head.

"No. No way, Day. I have class."

"Oh, come on," he said, rolling his eyes a little before taking a step closer to me, into my space. One of his hands came up to play with the ends of my hair. "Don't tell me I'm gonna have to convince you to cut class with me."

He lowered his voice, teasing and flirting at the same time, but I just put a hand on his chest to stop him moving any further.

"You know I love you, and if it was you in trouble, I'd drop everything to help you in a second. But I'm not missing my favorite class, especially not the lecture I've been waiting for this whole semester, just to involve myself in the latest Scooby Gang drama. Whatever it is, it can wait, like, two hours."

Damon opened his mouth to continue making his case, but I just gave him a smile and a wink, then pulled out of his grasp. I slipped through the door of the classroom before he could stop me and headed for a seat near the front. When I sat down, I wasn't surprised to see Damon following right behind me, settling a moment later in the seat next to mine. I turned to him with a grin.

"Last chance to leave before class starts. I can call you when it's over."

He turned to me with a fake smile I knew well.

"Nope. If you won't leave, I might as well stay here with you. Then we can leave even faster once it's over."

My smile only widened. "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Damon raised an eyebrow at me, but I was able to avoid answering him as our instructor began class, drawing my attention back to the front. Still, Damon didn't have to wait long to see what I was talking about.

"Alright, everybody, it's time for our much-awaited, headlining lecture for myths and folklore. Today... we're talking about vampires."

Damon didn't even bother to hide a snort, but I just grinned. Despite dating a real vampire, their place in mythology, folklore, and other storytelling had never lost its appeal for me. I loved reading and studying about them in all forms, and I'd taken this class largely for this part of the course. Having a real life vampire sitting next to me for the whole thing could only enhance the experience, as far as I was concerned.

"Everyone's heard a vampire story at least once in their life," the professor continued at the front of the class. "Whether it was Dracula, Anne Rice, or just second-hand knowledge of Twilight, as creatures, they're ingrained in our cultural conscious.

"However, not all vampires are the same. Stakes, crosses, cutting off the heads, garlic. Even whether or not sunlight will kill them, although sparkling is a bit of an outlier. Each myth of the vampire, or a vamprie-adjacent creature, has a slightly different description of exactly what makes a vampire. We even have our own local variety, with the myth of the Richmond Vampire existing for just over a hundred years now."

I leaned over to Damon, getting close enough to whisper in his ear.

"How many of these myths do you think you're responsible for?" I asked.

"All of them," he deadpanned, without even glancing over at me. "Except Edward."

Now it was my turn to snort. Luckily, my professor didn't notice.

"Today begins the unit of our class where we look at the permiation of the folklore not just of vampires, but of all the undead creatures that stalk the night. Is it simply a fascination with death that has led to most cultures telling a tale about some kind of undead creature, or is there something more? Something beyond the legends?"

"What do you think she'd do if you turned in a paper theorizing the vampire myths were mostly created and spread by this group of really old assholes we know?"

"Shh."

"Oh, so you're allowed to make little comments to me but I'm not allowed to make them to you?"

"Yes. That way I can make sure I don't miss anything I want to hear."

I didn't need to look at Damon to know he was rolling his eyes.

My professor continued her lecture, digging in a little on some specific examples of the vampire myth. I took dutiful notes, mostly blocking out the comments from my boyfriend, and eventually he settled for just doodling his own, much more sarcastic notes in the margins of mine. I smiled as he drew a particularly cartoonish fanged vampire. That'd make studying a little more fun in a couple weeks.

Damon managed to sit through the whole hour and a half class with me, all in all with much more patience than I'd been expecting. I should've known he was just waiting for his moment.

After class was dismissed, I quickly packed up, ready to head off with Damon to handle whatever ridiculous drama he'd wanted me to get involved with in the first place. When I stood with my bag, however, I found him heading for my professor at the front of the room. I frowned.

I walked quickly to catch up to Damon, hearing the tail end of his sentence as he shook my professor's hand.

"...incredibly interesting lecture to get to sit in on," Damon said, his voice dripping with charm and a fake smile plastered on his face. "Really, it was outstanding. The vampire myth is just so interesting."

I barely managed to stop myself from laughing out loud. For anyone who didn't know Damon, they'd likely be swayed by his apparently genuine interest, rapt attention, and dazzling smile. I'd seen him flip the switch to manipulative people-person enough that it didn't convince me anymore, although my teacher sure seemed to be falling for it.

"I'm glad you agree. It really is a most fascinating topic. You'd be welcome to sit in on future lectures, if you'd like."

"Thank you! I just might have to take you up on that. You know, I had a friend once who swore she saw a vampire in some small town bar around here."

My professor laughed. "I've heard of small town Bigfoot and Mothman sightings, but small town vampire sightings might be a new one."

"Right? I mean, I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but it's a little unbelievable to think a vamprie could be standing right in front of you, isn't it?"

I stepped up to Damon's side and discreetly elbowed him as my professor laughed. He just grinned at me in response.

"Well, it was almost as much of a pleasure talking to you as it was listening to your lecture," Damon said, holding out his hand again for a fairwell shake. My professor took it, and I caught the glint in Damon's eye as he shot the man a wolfish smile. "Take care. Don't let the vampires get you."

He chuckled again, giving both of us a smile as Damon finally dropped his hand.

"I promise, I won't."

Damon hummed and smirked while I fought through the most forced smile of my life as I hustled Damon out of the room, just barely managing to maintain a casual facade. The minute we cleared the classroom door, I turned to my boyfriend with a scowl.

"You laid that on a little thick," I said. Damon just scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You're the one who insisted on sitting through that class. I just decided to engage with the lecturer and the content a little more."

I snorted. "Yeah, sure. I take it you enjoyed yourself then?"

Damon grinned. "Very much."

"Should I be changing your name in my contacts to 'The Richmond Vampire'?"

Damon smirked. "That wasn't very subtle."

"Neither was a single word you said to my professor."

He huffed a laugh. "True. Then sure, if you really want to. Just don't ask me to help you test which vampire myths are true and which aren't. You already know real vampires burn in the sun."

"I promise not to use you as a vampire lab rat as long as you promise not to take a bite out of my folklore professor."

"Hmm..."

"Damon."

"Fine. I promise not to bite your folklore professor. At least not this semester."

I rolled my eyes, but decided to let that one pass without comment, at least for now. Damon gave me his real smile as he took my hand, and I sighed as I leaned into him, the two of us heading for the doors to the building together.

"So am I going to be hearing about your vampire mythology theories for the next few weeks?" he mused as we walked. I hummed.

"Probably, yeah. It's part of being there for each other, right? I get involved in your little brother's teen drama, you listen to me talk about vampires like they're not real, and like the Mikaelsons had nothing to do with the global spread of the myth."

"Sounds like a match made in heaven."

"I'll say."

Damon and I shared a smile, and as we reached the doors, he paused long enough to pull me to him for a long kiss. I smiled into it as one of his hands tangled in my hair. Damon could be absolutely ridiculous sometimes, but so could I. At the end of the day, we made a pretty damn good couple as a result of it.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[inuyashaluver]

hello hello! not sure if you write for her... but can i request a childhood friends to lovers fic with leah galton?! love your writing!!!

pinky promise - leah galton

leah galton x reader

description: in which you and your childhood best friend fulfil a promise that you made years ago

warnings: it’s a long one, babies!

a/n: hiya, lovey! thanks so much for the request and the love! i hope you enjoyyy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your childhood best friend, leah grew up together joined at the hip. you went to school together, bonding through a mutual love of football from a young age. wherever you went, she went and vice versa.

you were extremely close, both of you each other’s favourite person in the world and no one could come in between that.

so much so, when you were younger, you both made a sacred promise that you both held close to your heart.

when you both reached 16, leah was the first one to explore romance, you were the person she came to for advice, her wingwoman, her best friend. You were more on the reserved side, particularly focused on football and school rather than anything romantic.

–

it was a commonly chilly friday in england when leah invited you over to her house to ‘study’.

“you, leah galton are inviting me over, to study on a friday night?” you quirk your brow, a hint of disbelief evident in your tone.

“yes, (y/n) (y/l/n), i am” she mocks, cocking her head to the side teasingly as you ate lunch together. you take another bite of your sandwich as you narrow your eyes at her, she stares at you challengingly, waiting for you to agree.

“nah, there's a catch for sure” you concluded with a cheeky smile, making the corners of her mouth upturn as well. while you both stare at each other with challenging glares, you watch as leah’s eyes trail from yours to another point in the room.

you look at her confused and follow her gaze to one of your classmates, the girl waves at leah shyly before sitting down with her friends for lunch.

“ah, there’s the catch” you laugh teasingly, watching the girl in front of you look down in embarrassment.

“we’re going on a date next week and i need you to help me” leah pleaded, reaching for your snack you were about to open before you promptly slapped her hand away.

“hm, what’s in it for me?” you smirk teasingly, she rolls her eyes but thinks for a moment. “i’ll buy you an ice cream?” leah tries, gaining a shake of your head when her hand manages to steal some of your snack.

“oh, come on, galton, you can do better than that!” you scoff, she shakes her head at you, “i’ll do that assignment that’s due on monday?” your eyes widen at that, “well, you're doing that regardless if i agree or not” you scold, she internally curses herself for telling you that, you were always the academic out of the two.

“i’ll do the assignment and whatever you want for two weeks” leah pleads, you ponder for a moment, mockingly rubbing your chin with your hand to take the piss out of her, the girl immediately rolls her eyes at you.

“make it three and you’ve got yourself a deal” you say smugly, putting your hand out for a handshake that she reluctantly takes, “deal” she sighs.

–

you went home with her, and as soon as you both entered her room, she promptly got into business, dragging you to sit on her bed while she sat in front of you.

“what about the movies?” leah tries, you shake your head, “too overdone” leah nods along with you. “should i invite her to a game and then go out after?” leah attempts again, gaining you crinkling your nose in dislike.

“babe, no offence but you’ll be all sweaty and that’s not attractive” you tease, leah gives you a playful slap on your knee. “not funny” she grits out, “why don’t you just do a little picnic or something?” you suggest with a shrug, “would you be happy with that?” leah questions, somewhat nervously but you dismiss it.

“well, yeah, if you’re there, you’re great company” you smile shyly, looking down at your lap. you miss the way leah looks at you in slight shock, mildly spaced out from your words.

“oh, okay, i'll call her later ” when leah smiles at you, you wondered what it would be like to go on a date with leah, quickly shutting down the thought, she was your friend, you can't like her like that.

–

one week later, leah goes on the date. it wasn't at all enjoyable like she had hoped. the girl didn't understand her humour, you always did. the girl didn't like football, you did.

and, as it turned out, the girl thought the date was a hangout between friends. the list went on, no matter how hard she tried to block out the thoughts, it always came back to you.

she didn't know why, she didn't like you like that. you were her best friend. just because she thought of you every night before she went to bed, bought you things she thought you'd enjoy, and maybe had one too many lingering thoughts about you being the one on this date meant nothing, right?

—

it was the morning after the date and you were slightly worried leah hadn't called you last night after it like she promised she would.

it was a monday, meaning you have school, you lay in bed, lightly sleeping before you needed to get ready. suddenly, the door opens after a quick knock, not even giving you time to respond.

you open your eyes and in walks leah, a glum expression evident on her face. without another second, she trudged over to your figure on the bed, flopping her body overtop and sinking into you.

“good morning” you laugh, the girl on top of you groans in response, her face buried into the covers over your stomach. “not good?” you ask softly, running a hand over her back in comforting circles.

you feel her shake her head, burying her face further into you, making you slightly nervous before you shut down the thoughts, she needed you as a friend.

she lifts her face up and looks at you, “really not good” she sighs, rolling off your body to lie next to you. you both stare up at the ceiling in a comfortable silence.

“i'm sorry it didn’t go well” you look over at her, she turns her head to look at you, “don't be” she shrugs, lifting her hand up to gently move a stray hair resting close to your eye. the gesture was so intimate, it gave you a funny feeling in your stomach.

you both look at each other with soft expressions, the two of you unaware of the racing minds and lingering thoughts about each other that had you both questioning your friendship.

“i think i might leave the dating scene for a bit,” leah admits, turning onto her side so she could look at you better, “joining the single life with me, huh?” you tease, copying her action and rolling onto your side.

“mmhm” she hums, both of you giggling with each other.

“sorry to ruin our little moment in solidarity, but i need to get ready” you pinch her cheek teasingly and she immediately groans in protest. her eyes linger on you as she watches you move around the room, so fluid and satisfying for her to watch.

you change in the bathroom and come back into the room to see a waiting leah on your bed, you stick your tongue at her, she returns the action with a laugh. you begin to pack your bag while you both chat about the date.

leah making an effort and leaving out some specific thoughts she had during the date.

it was during lunch that you made the promise, you had separate classes which had you both a little sad. you watch as leah’s face visibly brightens when she sees you sitting in your usual spot.

you both chat and laugh as you eat, having genuine, heartfelt fun, even if it was just the two of you.

when a conversation sparks up about the date again, you both laugh as you tease her. she covers her ears while slightly cringing at herself while replaying the ‘date’ in her head before she looks at you with a cheeky expression.

“let’s make a deal,” leah challenges, you raise your eyes amusingly at her, encouraging her to continue.

“if we’re both single by the time we’re 25, let’s date and get married later” leah says simply, taking a sip from her water as she watches you for your reaction, she’s surprised at seeing you nod.

“sounds good” you shrug, “make it official?” you smile, holding out your pinky to her. she grins brightly, interlocking your pinky with hers.

—

years and years go by and the both of you are pining over each other painfully. it was so incredibly obvious to everyone around you that you were both head over heels for one another, it was frustrating.

you both got signed to the same clubs for football, both of you asked by almost every teammate in different teams if the two of you were dating, always having to turn it down, leah always loved to say, “not yet” every chance she got.

it was during both of your years at manchester united that acted as a catalyst for your relationship. you were both 24 at the time, both of you would tease each other about how 25 was swiftly approaching for the two of you. you both wanted it to come as soon as possible, you knew you loved each other but chose to painfully wait.

—

“still gonna keep your promise, love?” leah says cheekily as she kicks the ball to you, her birthday was coming up extremely soon.

you receive it and shake your head with a giggle, “of course, we swore on our pinky’s” you scoff, almost like it’s common knowledge, she knew all too well of course. you swiftly kicked the ball back to her.

“glad we’re on the same page” she said with a bright grin, stopping the ball before walking up to you and giving you a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“leah!” you laugh brightly, attempting to push her off you but the girl wouldn’t budge. she pecks your cheek repeatedly while she giggles against your skin, her hand lingers on your waist to pull you closer and your stomach flutters.

“we need to get used to kissing, wifey” she mumbles against your ear, a few of the girls watch the interaction and shake their heads. they’ve had to deal with your casual flirting for years, but none of them have suffered as hard as you and leah.

you laugh and she moves off you, slinging an arm over your shoulder to walk you over to the rest of the team to wrap up training.

—

leah’s 25th birthday arrives, you decorate your shared flat with balloons, streamers, flowers and a little banner with ‘happy birthday’ written across it. you were so giddy, excited to spoil your best friend/future wife.

you both had training today, so you wanted to make some parts of the day nice and special for your special girl. you walk into her room, expecting her to be sleeping but are instead faced with a changing leah, the girl standing in shorts and her sports bra about to shrug on her shirt.

she smirks at you surprisingly and you turn around instantly “sorry!”, your cheeks flushed red. you’ve seen each other change countless times, but seeing her changing in her room felt too intimate, it made you nervous.

she lazily giggles, chucking on her shirt and standing behind you. “i’m 25 officially, babe, get used to it” you can hear her smirk in her words and you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth.

her arms experimentally wrap around your waist as she pulls you against her front, giving you a loving hug from behind before turning you around.

you smile sheepishly, your arms going around her neck to pull her into a tight embrace, “happy birthday, beautiful” you breathe out with a smile, kissing her cheek affectionately. she holds onto you tightly, never wanting to let go.

you part with shy smiles, “thanks, babe” she lifts her hand up to stroke your cheek gently before you grab her hand and pull her out to the decorated living room.

she gasps as soon as she sees it, stopping in place and halting both of your movements. “when did you set this up?” she exclaims in awe, looking at you with lovesick eyes that had you swooning.

“when you went to sleep” you say proudly, feeling leah’s grip on your hand tighten. she looks at a loss for words, her mouth opening to speak but nothing comes out. instead, she pulls you by the hand into another hug, her face making its way to the crook of your neck.

“i love you, thank you” you both feel too warm, you knew the feelings were mutual and it only made you both nervous about what you two could become.

“i love you too” you say sweetly, giggling when she nuzzles her face into your neck.

—

you both arrive at training with bright smiles and the girls immediately giggle at the two of you. starting with the birthday wishes immediately before settling into the teasing.

“25, galton, you dating yet?” ella teases, millie laughs immediately, spurring the girl on. “not yet, someone else needs to be 25 first” leah grins, nodding her head towards you before throwing you a wink, your cheeks are on fire. “well that's about..” millie ponders, interrupted by an excited leah, “28 days, 12 hours and 43 minutes” she said simply, sitting down next to you in her cubby to lace up her boots.

you swore your heart stopped then and there, your eyes were wide and your mouth was slightly agape as the room erupted into cheers and teasing.

she nudges your thigh with her own to prompt you to look at her. “you okay?” she mocks, she knew she was affecting you, her smug smile making it hard to breathe while her thigh rested against yours. you nod in response, tearing your gaze from the girl and lacing up your boots as well, her thigh never left yours.

—

it was your 25th birthday, leah has been excitedly reminding you almost every second for the past week. you were both excited, and obviously you both knew why. you could have dated years ago, sure, but something about the promise you made at 16 was just so special to the two of you. you mutually wanted to wait and it was sure worth it.

you woke up to leah hugging your body on top of the covers, an arm slung around your waist while she hugged you to her chest.

“happy birthday, baby” she whispers in your ear, kissing the tip of your ear while she snuggles into you. you stir and turn to her, pressing your face into her collarbone and hugging her tightly. she hums at the contact, resting her cheek against the top of your head.

“thank you” you mumble into her shirt, moving up slightly to kiss the base of her neck which made her squirm, you smile lazily into her skin. “i’m 25, you need to get used to this” you mock, looking up at her with tired eyes, she chuckles as she takes in your appearance. she moves the stray hairs adorning your face, her finger tracing over your nose gently before she boops it.

“i know i tease you about it but we don’t have to keep the promise if you don’t want to” she utters, her hand cradling your cheek as you look up at her, now completely awake.

“of course i want to” you say almost offendedly, leah smiles brighter than you’ve ever seen, kissing your cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your mouth. she pulls back to look at you, you looked at her with so much love she could’ve cried.

“come on, my girl has a birthday to celebrate” she winks, kissing your forehead quickly before getting up to run off to the living room.

like you did, it was completely decorated with flowers, balloons, streamers, the whole works. you trudge out into the living room to a very happy looking leah standing in the middle with a small cupcake in her hand with a little candle lit on it.

you smile at her, placing a hand over your heart as you made your way over to her.

“i won’t sing happy birthday because i know you hate it so make a wish, beautiful” your heart soared that she remembered your dislike for the song. you close your eyes and clasp your hands together, smiling contemptly before blowing out the candle.

she lets out a little cheer, smiling as she hands you the cupcake. you look at her slightly confused, “you didn’t get one for yourself?” you look around for another cupcake but the girl only got you one, you pout a little at that and she waves you off.

“i don’t want one, baby, eat it” she ushers you, shoving the cupcake in your face and causing a little frosting to smear on the tip of your nose.

she laughs at your appearance. “do you want some?” you ask her, she swipes her thumb over your nose and licks her finger with a wink. “i’m good” she giggles, you grab the cupcake and squish it on her lips and she squeals in surprise, frosting all over her lips and nose.

“sorry, let me get that for you” you mock, wiping your own thumb over her nose, stepping close to her, she tenses at your proximity, your lips a few centimetres apart.

you look into her eyes for a second and she grins, taking it as confirmation, you kiss her. its frantic, loving and better than the two of you could ever imagine. the cupcake frosting makes you smile against her. she parts your lips almost immediately, asserting her dominance and taking charge immediately.

your tongues move together and you can both taste the frosting. you whine into her mouth when she presses you against her, her hands exploring your waist. she pulls away breathlessly, a little frosting lingering on your lips, you chase her mouth and kiss her lips gently before pulling away and giving them a little wipe with your thumb.

“pretty good cupcake” she breathes out, you both laugh brightly and she pulls you into another sweet kiss. her thumb grazes your jaw and she hums into your mouth, pulling away with a final kiss.

—

in present times, you’re both 29, the final part of the promise finally coming into play. you’re both happily about to get married, everyone was extremely excited to see their favourite couple finally get married.

when you both exchange your vows, you smile at each other with all the love you had. when you’re both told to kiss the bride, you hold out your pinky to leah and she takes it immediately while interlocking them, kissing you with a big smile as everyone erupted into cheers.

you both didn’t break your promise, and you’re happy you had it in the first place.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - just pretend it’s youuuu!! xx

liked by ellatoone and 44,232 others

leahgalton21: tip for the young ones in love with their best friend, make a promise you’ll get married at 25, confirmed, it works

view all comments

yourname: actually does work

↳ leahgalton21: my best idea

yourname: it actually needs to be a pinky promise, don’t spread false information, galton

↳ leahgalton21: oh, sorry, baby

yourname: you were in love with me?!

↳ leahgalton21: we established this, baby

↳ yourname: i know, i wanted to hear you say it

↳ leahgalton21: little shit

[scribbleseas]

in love & in war, drabble 3: the one where he trips you up…?

Description: Join Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, as he embarks on one of the most difficult challenges of his professional life: getting you to fall in love with him in order to become the next chairman of TransAtlantica— your father’s vast shipping empire.

Warnings: There’s a minor mention of blood in this drabble—that’s all that comes to mind!

Author’s Note: I’m sorry this is a day late, haha! Last night, my amazing friend @mylostleftfootsock and I were having some crazy story breakthroughs for an upcoming work of mine. They were, in fact, hitting so hard that I had to make the fic outline as we were both losing our minds. That being said, here is a pretty long drabble! I hope you like it—and that it’s a nice palette cleanser from SL. I’m purposely trying to keep this one as light as I can <3

I’m also trying out the taglist for this post! If you would like to be added, just specify for which fics (or if all!) and I will tag you in all my content posts!

Happy Reading!

- Dan

Fun fact: I’m also 2,031 words into Staight Laced 10. I’m on a bit of a roll this week, woohoo!

⇐ PREVIOUS DRABBLE | NEXT DRABBLE ⇒

MASTERLIST

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

The North Pier, Lancashire, 1895

“It is impossible to understate the importance of this promenade, my Lord,” Sebastian explained, matching Ciel’s walking pace to the centimeter as they walked down the cement, having exited the carriage a block away from the beachside pier’s entrance. Sebastian always remained in the same stride as Ciel, a fact that the Earl knew would only delight the demon if he commented on it.

Ciel had no desire to feed the ego of his condescending demon for a butler. Sebastian already gloated endlessly about his upholding of a certain ‘Butler Aesthetic’ that he’d created for himself the first night of his employment.

“You should tell her that her family always hosts the most inspired events, such as this—and you should be sure to show gratitude for her time. Dozens of men not unlike you would do anything for this opportunity,” Sebastian added, emphasizing his words purposefully when he caught on to Ciel’s lack of focus. His butler was correct: a promenade with Lady Y/n at one of TransAtlantica’s seasonal galas for its shareholders, business executives, family ties, and anyone from the business world who mattered. Every year, the shipping company rents out the entirety of the three piers, leaving its multitude of small shops and taverns open for the casual party.

TransAtlantica always picked a weekend that sat towards the end of the spring, the weather a weekend or two away from scorching the Earth. The decision always ensured the best weather—clearer skies, a light breeze, docile sun and seawaves.

Until this year, Ciel would send his regrets, in the same fashion as he would for the company’s fundraisers at the Langham Hotel each season. This event was too crucial to skip, especially after securing himself a promenade. A lot of Britain’s polite society—not just those typical of London’s social hemisphere—would be present. There were no dance cards restricting Ciel’s time with the heiress, and that meant he needed to be especially strategic with the time he managed to have in front of the Y/l/n family.

“I know,” Ciel grumbled. “The color of her gown brings out the…shine in her eyes, or something like that,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes to further his point. Another quick look around them assured him that there were no guests leaving their carriages blocks away from the entrance.

“And that cavalier attitude was what ultimately led her to all except rebuke you, sir,” Sebastian scolded, eyebrows drawing together in a brief show of frustration. “Make her feel as if she is the most important person to you—the deciding factor in which you succeed or you fail. She is just that, after all.” He said purposefully, mahogany eyes interrogating Ciel’s expression. The Earl kept his gaze resolutely forward, watching guests meet the Y/l/n family at the pier’s entrance archway, alongside a handful of the company’s executive board members. “We will be within their natural sightline in about fifteen paces, sir.”

Y/n was dressed sensibly in a light gown, the bodice appearing to resemble a man’s sophisticated white vest, which cut into a feminine design with ruffled short sleeves and lace lining the square neckline. A lot of her clothing tended to include a hint of masculinity—an effort to be taken more seriously in these executive circles, Ciel guessed. Her long blue skirts matched the clear sky, the shade matching the accents in her mother and father’s attire for the afternoon.

The Richmond Earldom always appeared as a matching set, stressing the importance of Ciel’s own apparel during these events. Lord Richmond, Y/n’s father, was searching for an intelligent man who could manage his legacy just as perfectly as his company’s prosperity. All of these simpering suitors could never seem to comprehend that they were vying for more than just a young woman’s hand. They were romancing a company and ultimately, Y/n wasn’t marrying anyone without her father’s approval.

“Remember, my Lord, I can only tip things in your favor so much when it comes to matters of the heart,” the demon lowered his voice, now that they were within earshot of the family, among the last few straggling guests stepping onto the pier.

Ciel fought the strong urge to roll his eyes at his butler’s joke. Tipping things. How cheeky.

Lady Y/l/n, Y/n’s mother, noticed Ciel first. Quickly excusing herself from the conversation she was entertaining, she aimed her publicity smile at him— Y/n always seemed to default to the same empty look without failure.

“Lord Phantomhive! How lovely it is to see you here,” she greeted, accepting Ciel’s hand in a firm handshake. Lady Y/l/n’s short lace gloves matched her daughter’s. “We’re all so thankful that you could make it all this way.”

“The pleasure is completely mine. You’ve picked an auspicious day for this gala once again,” Ciel answered, pleased with Lady Y/l/n’s social intellect. By greeting him so brightly, she had also caught the attention of her husband and daughter, allowing them to respectfully finish their current engagements.

Y/N Y/L/N

You watched Ciel enchant your mother with an entirely faux smile, not unlike the one you kept stretched across your glossed lips. He always managed to look painfully smug, no matter how he tried to soften his expression.

“Lord Phantomhive,” your father greeted, taking the Earl’s hand. He gave it two shakes, never one to waste words. “I understand you will be promenading with my daughter today?”

You flushed, now the object of Lord Phantomhive’s stare. You could also feel the craning necks of others around you, arming themselves with gossip about you.

‘Lady Y/n is promenading for the first time this season, with Lord Phantomhive!’

‘Do you think they will get married?’

You could already see the headlines. There were already peering camera lenses around each corner, the only warning being their blinding flash.

“If she wills it, we shall. A good day, my Lady,” it was your turn to offer your hand to the Earl, but not in a shake. Instead, he took special care in accepting your gloved hand and equally raising your knuckles to his lips and bowing his head to avoid moving your arm too high. His lips hardly grazed your glove.

“To you too.” You dipped into the shallowest version of a curtsy you could manage without being impolite. You hadn’t quite made up your mind about the Lord of Phantomhive, finding him to be contradictory. Sincere enough one moment, crude the other. He reminded you of a puzzle with pieces that didn’t quite fit together to make the complete picture.

Thankfully, he didn’t waste time in releasing your hand.

Lord Phantomhive righted himself, clearly attempting to dissect your tight expression. You suspected that you could see through one another as plainly quite easily, no more transparent than glass. You felt a small lump form in the back of your throat, as you were unsure how to proceed.

Unfortunately, your mother could also read you like an open book. “You’ve greeted most everyone already, Y/n. You and Daphne should join Lord Phantomhive and his butler,” she prompted in a gesture that was both helpful— and embarrassing. Particularly in front of your father.

“Right,” you answered. At the sound of her name, your maid appeared. Daphne was always close enough to be a call away—except for when she wasn’t, you thought about your first run-in with the Lord Phantomhive. Was he truly charmed by you from that encounter? You had been, admittedly, short with him because of how nerve-racking the situation was. “We will walk the pier,” you said, forcing your shoulders to drop. High shoulders suggested tenseness, which then, in turn, implicated anxiety.

You couldn’t help but feel the Lord Phantomhive could sense weakness. That was how breakout corporations like Funtom were made, weren’t they? With leadership at the helm.

“Be safe, please,” your mother gave your hand a meaningful squeeze and joined the rest of the guests with your father. Your stomach sank as if they had left you flailing in the middle of the cool sea beneath the boardwalk.

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

“Did you hear about the ferris wheel they are constructing here? Apparently, it is set to open this July,” Ciel said, breaking the silence with one of the many anecdotes Sebastian armed him with. While the Earl preferred silence whenever possible, apparently long silences unnerved the social butterfly in Lady Y/n. Sebastian had instructed him to keep a steady conversation flowing between them at all times—he’d hypothesized she would feel they were compatible intellectually, if he could manage.

“Oh, I certainly have,” the heiress answered brightly. “Isn’t it fascinating? My father and I visited Chicago’s Columbian Exposition about two years ago. The fuel source are steam boilers with underground main pipes that then funnel the steam into pistons that then power thousand-horsepower engines. It’s an enormous axel,” Y/n explained with an intriguing willingness and clarity.

She knew the intricacies of engineering? How curious of a young noblewoman.

“Did you manage a ride on it?” Ciel asked, not offering his arm to her. That would foil his plan, and he figured Lady Y/n wouldn’t appreciate it at this stage. She valued her independence—or the appearance of being self-sufficient, at least. Ciel had yet to make his final verdict of her disposition. After all, the rumors were that her father trained her with the same intensity he would have a first-born son.

“Heavens, yes.” Lady Y/n said, making a clear effort to look ahead as they walked and maintain casual eye contact with him. Their servants lurked behind them, Sebastian entertaining Daphne with some mindless chatter while picking her brain for more information about her mistress. “There was no chance I would miss that sort of opportunity, being up so high like that.”

“I couldn’t imagine it, myself,” Ciel answered. They spoke aimlessly, cycling through topics they had in common: they were each accomplished linguists, readers, instrumentalists. Y/n even claimed to be a worthy fencing opponent, of all things.

“You are half my height,” not even the Earl could fight the amused twist of his lips at the thought of Lady Y/n parrying his advance. The top of her head just barely reached his chin by a handful of centimeters. And that was in addition to her stately heels.

“But Lord Phantomhive, all warfare is based on deception,” Y/n answered, blinking at him guiltlessly.

“Are you quoting The Art of War?” Ciel asked, raising an eyebrow. That would insinuate Y/n was competent in Classical Chinese, since Sun Tzu’s piece hadn’t been widely translated into English yet. A language that Ciel had still been in the process of mastering with Sebastian. The demon claimed to have been ‘around’ when the military strategist created the ancient military treatise. Presently, he felt it had important lessons for Ciel to understand.

Apparently, Y/n’s father—or her tutor—were incredibly insightful to pick such an ancient text to add to her studies. That was quite an advanced piece of literature. Honestly.

”Yes,” Lady Y/n said, as if this was obvious. “Who better to reference?”

Of course she read it. And learned it well enough to have quotes on hand. She could probably recite it in its original language, Ciel guessed. That wasn’t an unattractive quality in a woman—in fact, he felt a dim respect for it.

“I also quite appreciate Machiavelli’s inspired piece, The Prince,” Ciel answered, finding himself confident that Lady Y/n might understand his reference.

Y/N Y/L/N

His remark made you smile.

Of course, you’d heard the rumors about Ciel Phantomhive, The Queen’s Guard Dog, King of the Underworld, Police of the Underworld. While most of the public could only speculate the sorts of private investigative work that Her Majesty requested of the Phantomhive family, plenty of rumors swirled in the absence of the truth.

You heard whispers of no one daring to cross the Earl, for fear of severe repercussions. Life-threatening ones. You heard of the uncertainties surrounding the fatal inferno that burned down the manor so long ago, killing his family. His miraculous reappearance two years later. Apparently, now the Earl Phantomhive was reportedly a hardened man, callous and willing to crush any opponent in his path.

“You find you relate with the Italian diplomat?” You asked, curious about Lord Phantomhive’s response. Did he read this body of work as a step-by-step to creating a tyrannical regime, or did he perceive it as a frank reading of politics and the nature of diplomacy? It had been so long since you had a proper discussion about such matters with someone besides your father, your tutors, or Daphne, and you were decently assured they were weary of your constant need for knowledge.

The Earl seemed to enjoy this type of logical sparring, embracing it, even. It left you…curious to have more. If not, interested.

Lord Phantomhive took a brief moment to reply, leaving you to appreciate the scenery around you. The sky was impressively clear, no hint of any clouds near the horizon. Seagulls wailed to one another, fluttering about the long piers and across the empty coastline. As warm as it was, the weather wasn’t quite hot enough for there to be beach galas.

The air smelled of salt, gusts of air determined to pull strands of your hair astray. They were certainly doing a number on the Earl’s raven hair, tousling it playfully. This whole promenade, you had walked away from the direction of the gala, and now, as you reached the end of the pier, the two of you turned around, starting back.

“I think there’s more nuance—” Ciel started, “are you alright?”

Before you could process your fall, you were face-first on the sandy boards. Your knee erupted in pain, your bare skin touching your dress. You must have ripped your stockings? How could you have tripped? You had only allowed your mind to wander for a second, and there had been nothing obstructing your path, either!

Not to mention, your balance was typically impeccable. You were no ballerina, but years of fencing helped you regulate your posture and weight distribution.

It was as if the wooden board had simply decided to loosen, give somewhat under your weight, and catch your heel between the planks in order to trip you! How peculiar.

“I’m…fine. I only scraped my leg, I think,” you said, more mortified than pained. Your face reddened as you accepted Lord Phantomhive’s helpful hand, dusting off the sandy front of your dress with the other. You forced yourself to give him a weak smile, looking back down at the flooring. The wooden panel seemed to be perfectly in place.

“I’m not sure what could have caused that,” you added awkwardly, releasing the nobleman’s hand.

You were thankful that no one else was present to witness such an unbecoming moment of yours. It was a contender for one of your worst moments with a suitor.

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

The panic in Lady Y/n’s face should have been enough to make Ciel regret his and Sebastian’s plan. However, he’d found it to be rather promising. If he could nail the proper response her ideal gentleman would give, Lady Y/n would feel vulnerable around him. That was key to making love inevitable. She might look to him for support going forward.

Of course she didn’t know what had caused her trip. Sebastian was fast enough to loosen the plank just enough for it to shift under her confident step and throw her off balance, only to re-tighten and return to Daphne’s side in milliseconds. Faster than a blink. That left Ciel to provide Lady Y/n with a helping hand, some validation…and apparently a young woman appreciated a man who could bandage her wounds.

“Oh dear,” Ciel said, his eyebrows drawing together in a construction of curiosity and concern. He ignored his own nagging thought that he sounded like his butler, swallowing down the embarrassment. He could feel Sebastian surveying his performance, having coached Ciel on this part of the interaction. “I wouldn’t wish for it to continue bleeding, you did scrape it,” he said carefully.

“Why don’t you take a seat? I have a handkerchief.” He gestured to one of the pier’s benches with his chin.

“It truly doesn’t hurt,” Y/n attempted to deflect, still staring at the plank curiously. Of course, she was smart enough to know that there had been something amiss, but of course, smart enough to never consider the supernatural.

Judging from the way her fist squeezed at her side, the superficial wound stung more than she wanted to admit. There was likely sand around the injury or near it, only an added irritant.

Ciel merely met her eyes, asking her if she truly intended to push ahead in mild discomfort. Y/n surrendered begrudgingly mumbling a mildly unladylike, “Oh, alright.” Not always so untroubled as she seemed, was that it?

“You’re not in any other pain?” Ciel asked, kneeling to get a closer look at Y/n’s scrape. Daphne, unconicidentally, didn’t have any medical supplies with her. Sebastian had conveniently hid them from the maid to afford Ciel the right to tend to his intended.

“No,” she confirmed, cringing at the light pressure Ciel applied to stop the bleeding and clean the debris. “Honestly, the plank had a mind of its own, it feels like,” she mused, her tilted head racing for some logical explanation. There was none.

“And you are positive you didn’t hit your head on the way down?” Ciel asked her, appreciating the ghost of a laugh that escaped her lips. That was the right thing to say, he could tell.

This battle of love was only growing easier. The Earl was growing confident, fashioning his dialogue to that of a novel protagonist’s. Bland and kind, slightly humorous.

“Positive. Unless I hit my psychotic break last week in agreeing to have you join me for a promenade,” Lady Y/n said, standing once Ciel tied the handkerchief around her leg tightly, stopping any more bleeding. “In which case, we might need some more urgent care.”

“Would it take another such reckoning for you to agree to meet me again?” Ciel asked, adding a new flair of seriousness to his voice as he righted himself in front of Lady Y/n. He took a quick moment to dust the fronts of his trousers free of sand before refocusing on Y/n, urging her for the answer he craved. The key to becoming an official suitor of hers.

One outing was a trial. Two was one step closer to serious consideration.

“No, it would not,” the begrudging grin at the heiress’ lips told Ciel that he’d offered her a masterclass in lying and deception. “Perhaps, the 1895 Grand National next weekend. My family loves to attend.”

Y/n Y/l/n was already inviting Ciel to the 57th renewal of the Grand National horse racing event? Perhaps, this endeavor was going to be easier than Ciel originally thought….

Tag List: @vixxzill, @theblueslytherin

[sturniololoco]

Heyy sorry I love you fics sm!! Can you do one where SLS gets into a argument with one of the triplets and they push her and she cries so they make it up to her?

Cuts

Sturniolo little sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

Warning: ⚠️ Self Harm ⚠️ , blood, panic, etc.

Unedited

SLS/N’s POV

To say the least, the argument was stupid.

The boys let me be in a blind, deaf, and mute baking challenge for a Wednesday video. Nick was deaf, Chris was blind, I was mute, and Matt was blind and deaf; since we had four people.

We were making Brownies today, which I thought would be pretty easy.

Boy was I wrong.

The boys were starting to get frustrated, instead of just reading the fucking instructions like I tried to tell them.

I waved the empty box, with the instructions on them, in Nicks face, trying one last time before I gave up.

Instead of just taking them like I thought he would, he slapped me on the arm, hard, saying,

“GET THE FUCKING BOX OUT OF MY FACE! HOLY FUCK SLS/N!”

I quickly backed up, not wanting to get yelled at or hit again.

-

My next tactic was to try and help Chris.

Big fail.

I tried to grab his hands to help him stir the mixture and get all the clumps out. Only to be hit in the gut by Chris while he yelled,

“Oh my fucking god! I’m not fucking stupid! I can do it myself!”

The breath knocked out of me, I tried to back away from him, only to back straight into Matt, who smacked the back of my head.

“Watch where your fucking going! Jesus Christ you do t even have the blind food on!”

This was to much.

Feeling the tears in my eyes I back out of the room and up the stairs, my brothers to busy arguing to notice.

I get up the stairs and sprint to my bathroom. I sink into the floor finally letting my emotions out.

But not for long.

Wiping my eyes, I open my cabinet, reach all the way to the back left corner, and pull out what I was looking for.

My blade.

I open it fast and drag it across the top of my thigh, where my shorts cover the old scars from previous arguments.

I immediately feel relieved by the pain.

You deserve it. You shouldn’t have got in Nicks face, you shouldn’t have tried to help Chris, and you should have stayed out of Matt’s way. Your so stupid.

I drag my blade across my leg a few more times, knowing very well I deserve it.

But in my last swipe, the door opened.

Nicks POV

I do t know why we still do this challenge. We all hate it and it only makes us argue.

Chris was starting to put in oil we didn’t need into the batter, telling me, or rather showing, that he knew what he was doing.

Damn it, where is SLS/N with that box she had earlier? I turn to Matt and SLS/N.

But only Matt stands there.

I take Matt’s head phones off and he rips off his blind fold.

“Where’s SLS/N?” I ask him.

“How should I know? I couldn’t see or hear dumbass.” He replies, sassily. I roll my eyes and turn to Chris, who had taken off his blind fold and turned the camera off.

“Maybe she got stressed and went upstairs.” Chris suggested.

This wouldn’t be the first time this has happened. SLS/N get stressed or anxious sometimes, and just needs a break, so we let her hang out in her room for a little then go talk to her.

Matt, Chris, and I make our way upstairs to SLS/N’s room, but the door is open. However, her bathroom door is cracked open, and we could hear light sobs coming from inside.

We walk over and I open the door, shocked at what I see.

SLS/N’s POV

Nick, Matt, and Chris are standing in the doorway, looking completely shocked.

Nick is the first to break out of his trance. He kneels down next to me, takes the blade from my hand, and whispers,

“Why?” His voice cracking as he’s on the verge of tears.

I look at him, my tears already falling down on my face.

“It was all my f-fault! I ruined the whole challenge by getting in your face and getting Chris all upset and getting in Matt’s way! I deserve it! And when you guys hit me it’s the least you could do, so I have to do it myself.” I say talking fast, walk ting for one of them to scold or get mad at me.

But they don’t.

To my surprise, Nick pulls me into a hug, and I couldn’t help but sob into his chest. Matt and Chris join in, all of us teary eyed.

After about a minute, we break the hug.

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up, huh kiddo?” Matt says to me, scooping me up and running along me on the bathroom counter and bending down to get the first aid kit. Nick and Chris leave the room. He comes back up with the first aid kit,

and my extra blades.

“SLS/N, why didn’t you just talk to us?” He asks me, putting the blades in his pocket and getting to work on my cuts, wiping them, then putting some alcohol on them.

I his at the sting, but reply,

“I didn’t want to bother you. I already upset you enough.”

He looks at me in shock at he covers the cuts with bandages.

“You need to understand that nothing you do could ever upset us to where we would want to intentionally hurt you. You’re our baby sister, and we love you so much! Please don’t do this to yourself sweetheart. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Matt says, tearing up again as he brings me in for yet another hug.

I nod, not being able to speak without crying. I lean into his warm embrace while he rubs my back.

Chris’s POV

I am quick to walk out of the bathroom when Matt starts to patch SLS/N up. My breathing was sped up and my eyes were full of tears.

Nick followed me out as I sat on SLS/N’s bed, my head in my hands.

Nick comes over and rubs my shoulder.

“She’s gunna be fine Chris.” He says comfortingly. But I wasn’t having it.

“Nick it’s all my fault! I hit her and screamed at her! I can’t believe I did that, I’m such an idiot!” I say jumping up and fisting my hair, the tears falling freely now.

Nick stands up and takes my hand away from my hair and holds them in his.

“Christopher don’t you dare say this was all your fault. I yelled and hit her, you yelled and hit her, and so did Matt. None of us should have ever done that to her, so don’t go blaming yourself. It is what it is and we’ll all get through this together. Do you understand?” He said, still gripping my hands to make me listen.

I nod and give him a hug, trying to calm down before SLS/N comes back out.

SLS/N’s POV

I walk out to see Chris and Nick sitting on my bed, and Matt walks out behind me. I walk over and sit in between my brothers and say,

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you worry.”

“No SLS/N, we’re sorry. We never should ya e done that to you, and it will never happen again. But if you ever feel like that again, please come talk to us.” Nick says.

I nod and fall back onto the bed, my brothers close behind.

I snuggle into them knowing that everything is going to be okay, as long as I’m with them.

Note: if you ever feel the need to sh or feel down, please talk to someone. My dm’s are always open if you need.

[mydearestbeloved]

okay chapter 5 review here bc word limit.

amazing how your very first and latest draft can change how I feel about your story as a whole lmao. ngl the jinwoo in your first draft reminds me of those daydream yandere!jinwoo fics lolololol so imagine my whipslash when i read the revised and expanded draft of this.

i love those to death i will be honest here but sl reader fics that depicts jinwoo more closely to his canon counterpart always hit different fr. i love how jinwoo isn't trusting of reader and constantly trying to figure her out. he's so inquisitive and smart when trying to piece everything he can find about reader (that makes a lot of sense since he becomes a detective in the revised timeline).

i really appreciate you writing him like this and it's a shame canon kinda stop writing the strategic and observant jinwoo after over the half of the story. of course if you wanted to be more canon compliant (and an excuse to keep reader involved), jinwoo would have to be more suspicious and distrustful of her and monitor her (such a jinwoo move) bc yk his deep trust issue (that has been forgotten or somehow resolved on its own in the canon story just bc. no im not bitter about it nope). therefore, it's so intriguing to read fics where his issues being addressed and his worldview being challenged. i know solo leveling is a power fantasy but it's frustrating to see our protagonist keep proving right about his very flawed and detrimental outlook, carrying the world on his shoulders alone and all that and the story acts like none of that affects him negatively or has any long lasting consequences. again it's a power fantasy but i think i can overlook this very real potential issue only if the story isn't set in a modern and semi-realistic urban setting.

anyway i skimmed through all the drafts you have and i love how they are mostly about him slowly opening up to reader. my god i cannot wait until jinwoo becomes absolutely whipped for our fae queen like in the old drafts. i know it will be absolutely satistfying and worthwhile. (can't believe all the chapters are still drafts???)

?System¿:

[ Review of (14/11/2024) has been submitted.

We thank you for your feedback, Reader.

System will now connect you you to 《AUTHOR》 ]

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Thank you for sending your review, this genuinely made my day! 💞

Now onto your review:

Original vs Now

Funny story, this Trial Player AU's original idea was just supposed to be a single, one-shot thing. So, you're not wrong to think that it feels like a daydream yandere!Jinwoo fic, because IT IS.

I even format it like so because I didn't want to get overboard, and that I was afraid of losing interest if I held onto it for too long just because I don't have enough time to write it as long and detailed as I would've liked.

But as it turns out, I just fooled myself, because here we are with a full blown series. And me with too little time still.

The original concept of a trial player isn't even mine. I was inspired by one of @circeyoru's fics, where I just wanted to write a similar story but with a Reader that have different powers and personality.

I ended up having too many interesting ideas to expand this after posting Imagine #1, which now became the summary of this series instead of its original purpose as a one-shot, one-time thing.

To simplify: I hyperfixate. Drafts started piling up. I wanted to work out the details little by little but they were too messy for me to find the time to sit down and edit them. New method: try posting it. I can edit them as I go as long as I gave warnings beforehand to Readers that my writings can change. If this goes well, there's a chance I can receive feedbacks to improve further. Two birds with one stone. A win-win scenario for me.

I mostly write when I'm stressed out from studying and needed a temporary escape. So, it brings me extra joy when people actually enjoy my stress-induced vomit of words. 🥰

How I write canon characters

I LOVE Reader Inserts/x Reader stories, and one of the things that most of the time ruined them for me personally is if the canon intended act too OOC.

Like, I get it, we Readers aren't in the canon story, of course the canon characters will act out of script since they literally are. But if they act like a different person all together with little to no explanation, no reason that can tie them back to the essence that make them just them, then what's the point of canon x reader when it's just the same as oc x reader?

At least add a warning/note/anything else to inform readers if you're going to do that, or if you're not too sure you can write them to stay true to their canon counterparts (like me 😓).

In real life, we already proven that we are fickle beings. We kept changing for one reason or another, but we can still stay true to ourselves or be recognize as just us.

And that is what I tried to do in writing the canon characters, especially the MCs since we readers follow their story the closest, which resulted in us knowing about them more then the side/supporting characters.

We don't truly know them, we never will, but we can predict them when we put those characters in different scenes/scenarios/settings because they already have a pattern that we know.

That is what we readers of Readers Inserts ultimately sought after, to be able to imagine interacting with those same characters that we know through the pages.

At least, this is what I want. Different people, different views and opinions. This is mine.

How I write Sung Jinwoo in this alternate scenario

I only know of Solo Leveling through its webtoon/manhwa and anime adaptations. I know little no none how they are in the original webnovel/novel and game, and the little that I know are form spoilers, tidbits of them.

With this in mind, I do feel that the manhwa are missing some things, and as it turns out (from the spoilers I read), it does skip many scenes from the novel.

No hate for the artist though, if it were not for him, I wouldn't have known Solo Leveling. And I could only imagine how hard it would be to draw everything from the original.

As for Jinwoo, I'll try my best to stay true to his character from the manhwa. But note that I also added the 'Yandere' element. So, to make him not too OOC, I'll explore his thought process from the start to then falling in love to the point of madness with someone like Trial Player!Reader.

Back to the topic, this Trial Player AU of mine will mostly follow the manhwa, and I'll be using the manhwa-specific plot-holes/gaps to further integrate Trial Player!Reader into the story.

That said, I won't write/in detail all scenes there are in the manhwa. I'll only detailed scenes where I can show Trial Player!Reader's impact, while the rest are either skipped or summarized for the purpose of smooth transition between one scene and another.

I don't want this to be a slowburn, but I also needed to work out the details to Jinwoo's feelings if I want to execute this as smooth as I can get.

Hence, I apologize for the later instances of Jinwoo acting not himself, I'm still figuring out the details for those scenes, that is why I still labeled them as drafts.

Extra related topics

There is two points I shared that can be tied back to Player!Reader's personality:

One, she is a casual fan of Solo Leveling. To make this easier to write, what she knows about the original story is what I know. Reader reads the manhwa, watches the anime, and knows little of the game and original novel from spoilers only.

Second, her view of the Yandere trope. I already I wrote it somewhere in the (for now) unknown chapter 0.1, the only writing that I managed to finish.

I explained there how Reader views this particular fiction trope. It is in many ways similar to mine too. It's just so interesting to see how different people with different personalities spiral down to the far end of the emotion called love, more often associated with warmth and healing.

Emphasis on 'how', I want to see the process. Tying back to how I write Jinwoo.

It is just such an fascinating concept to imagine. And fiction have less restrictions to express that ideas than in reality, as long as we can (and should) differentiate which is true or not, which is good and bad, even if the line that separated them often blurred.

I DON'T condone yandere, toxic and extreme behaviors and actions in real life. All of my works are purely FICTION.

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I think that's all I can say for now. Thank you once again for reading my stories and for sharing your reviews. I really means a lot! 💞

Also, a piece of advice:

Perhaps you should hold off reading the last two chapter for now (9 and 10) until I updated them. Because they are of the newer drafts, there are certain 'too-fast-of-a-development'/OOC instances there that you might find a bit weird if I assumed through this review of yours.

I just feel responsible to point this out.

You're still free to read them, of course. After, you can just keep watch if I updated them, though by then you might want reread them. Hopefully, this is not too much. This is the downside of posting drafts. I apologize for the inconveniences.

I'll always inform a major draft update in my Masterlist. So there is no need to check each draft individually everytime.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi, do you know any (longish) fics where one of them has to discorporate the other to save him or for whatever other reason? Preferably not explicit/mature

Hello! We have a #temporary character death tag which includes discorporation fics. Some of these are explicit and mature, but these are the only fics I could find where one of them discorporates the other...

Paperwork by Princip1914 (E)

“Look, it’s ridiculous to go around discorporating one another!” Crowley sloshed mead from his tankard. “It’ll jus’ sl...slow us both down.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale suddenly had a brilliant idea, helped along by early experiments in fermenting honey. “Have you ever actually been discorporated?”

Bitterness of Grief by EdosianOrchids901 (M)

When Crowley and Aziraphale run into Archangels, Crowley prepares to fight despite the odds. He’ll do anything to protect Aziraphale—but Aziraphale betrays him. Is there any hope for their relationship or is it all over?

Caught in this Wicked Game by orphan_account (T)

Crowley finds himself tangled in demon trap set by some amateur angels. It wasn't exactly craftsmanship, but it burned him nonetheless. Luckily, Aziraphale just so happens to turn up the nick of time. So everything was going to be just fine.

You Never Had A Heart by HotCrossPigeon (T)

Aziraphale finds himself unwittingly ensnared in a demonic trap.

Unfortunately for a panicking Crowley, there’s only one way to get the angel out of it.

Approaching Terminal Velocity by summerstormspirit (E)

To Crawly, Aziraphale is a beautiful, horrifying, precious object to be played with and challenged and adored hard enough to crack. Sometimes he gets discorporated for his troubles, and the intimacy of it would leave him breathless, if he had to breathe.

Crowley, eventually, has some different ideas. They might be a little more dangerous.

Wednesday by Raphaela_Crowley (T)

After a bizarre confrontation with Hastur and one really bad cup of tea, Crowley finds himself in an alternate universe wherein he's back to being the archangel Raphael, there's no Arrangement, and Aziraphale is actively trying to discorporate him.

The worst part?

Every time Aziraphale succeeds in offing him, and "Raphael" is returned to earth with a new body, the day resets. It's always the same doomed Wednesday, over and over and over again.

Getting into this time-loop was an accident; getting out and back home again (if Crowley ever manages it) will have to be something entirely else.

- Mod D

[renegadeknight]

1, 3, 6!

Hope you have a happy new year!

Describe your journey this year in three words adventurous, challenging, and joyful

3. A fic or artwork you enjoyed there really are so many that I am spinning a mind wheel to pick one right now... but Migrating Monarchs by ciaconnaa is renting most of my brain space for free right now, very much worth a read, kudos, and wordy comment!

6. A scene you struggled with uh the entire Tommy POV chapter of SL haha that was the first time I wrote anything from his POV and rewrote it so. many. times. I think the fact that so much of it takes place at the hospital, I just really fought for it to not feel boring and repetitive (so hopefully it doesn't) and also pull off the fact that Tommy was a mixed bag of emotions the whole way through

Artist and Fic Writer EOY Asks

thank you for the ask and I hope you have a happy new year as well!

[luukeskywalker]

ficlet for beefleaf and number uh.... 7?

HIII I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I HAVE BEEN. SO BUSY. and also i was trying to make this fit very hard because ermm the song has no lyrics it is in fact a song from the hit video game jedi: survivor and all the ideas i was coming up with didn't have the same energy that i wanted for them LOL (BUT THANK YOU FOR PICKING THIS BECAUSE IT WAS SUCH A CHALLENGE AND I LOVE CHALLENGES!!!!)

so anyways this is ermm. a jedi: survivor au and truthfully this in my mind is like chapter 1 of a 100k one sided enemies to lovers slowburn because that's how every beefleaf fic should be. TO ME

Shi Qingxuan did not know why the stranger, suspended in a strange bacta tank for who knows how long, seemed so familiar. There was something in the gentle, floating swoop of its ink-black hair that called out through the Force, that pulled him closer to inspect this beautiful being. Or maybe it was the pale blue hand that was almost outstretched, as if it had been suspended in animation before fully expecting it, that beckoned him towards the controls to the tank. 

“Qingxuan?” Shi Wudu’s voice crackled over the comm, startling him out of his near-trance. “What did you find in there?” 

He brought the comm unit on his wrist up to his mouth. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” 

Shi Qingxuan had snuck her way through countless hordes of the rogues that had holed themselves away on this ancient planet, and had finally found safe passage through the near-decrepit Jedi temple they guarded. Her brother had argued against it, almost demanding to come along, but something had told her this was something she’d needed to do by herself.

And now she could see why. 

The being in the bacta tank called to her. Her head began to pound with some sort of energy with each step she took, as if the person trapped inside could sense her presence. It was as if she couldn’t control her own hands as they flew across the controls. 

Steam hissed as the bacta began to drain out of the tank, and the being inside – Shi Qingxuan vaguely recognized it was Chiss – started to sink down along with the gelatinous fluid. She was quick to dash up the steps to the top of the tank (how old was this one, anyways? All the tanks she’d seen had harnesses to keep their occupants steady even if the bacta was drained) and grabbed it under its arms, yanking him out of the tank. 

The Chiss coughed wetly as Shi Qingxuan removed his respirator, and groggily opened his eyes, fixing her with a glowing red glare. 

“Qingxuan!” Shi Wudu’s voice over the comm again. “What’s going o-” 

He shut the comm off. Shi Wudu could wait. 

The Chiss was slow to come back to full awareness. Being suspended in bacta was disorienting even for just a few hours – he had no idea how long this handsome stranger had been locked away here, where time had nearly forgotten it. 

“...Qingxuan.” 

That was not his brother’s voice. 

The Chiss, still curled on the floor, gave another weak cough. “I thought you’d leave me here to rot.” 

“Why would I do that?” Shi Qingxuan asked, taking a step back to give it some space. Even if he hadn’t been compelled by some strange, other force (not The Force, mind you, but something else, something deeper than that, if that was even possible), he still would have tried his best to free them. No one deserved to be forgotten like that. 

The Chiss narrowed his eyes in something that looked like almost baleful confusion, and something about it was so familiar that Shi Qingxuan’s breath caught in his throat. “How long has it been since you put me in here?” 

“Um, well, I don’t know how long you’ve been in there, but I think it’s been a while. This temple was abandoned nearly two hundred years ago.” Shi Qingxuan laughed nervously. “I wasn’t alive that long ago, so I definitely didn’t do that to you.” He held out a hand, as it looked like the Chiss was finally getting its bearings. “My name is Shi Qingxuan. And you are…?”

The Chiss did not take his hand, instead opting to slowly and carefully rise to his feet on his own. “Two hundred years…” 

It staggered slightly over to a small compartment next to the controls, then pressed a few buttons that Shi Qingxuan couldn’t understand. The compartment opened, and the Chiss removed a dark-hilted lightsaber from inside. 

“I shouldn’t believe you.” He turned to face Shi Qingxuan. “But I sense the truth. The world is…different. Clouded. Dangerous.” Shi Qingxuan suddenly got the feeling that maybe she’d just made a terrible mistake. “You don’t remember me.” 

“Umm,” Shi Qingxuan said, “No?” 

“Then let me introduce myself properly,” the Chiss ignited his lightsaber, and they were both met with a hissing, snapping red blade, crackling from hundreds of years of disuse. “My name is He Xuan. You betrayed me. And now you will pay the price.”

[zerolostwalks]

Get to know your fic writer:

47, 55, 59. and 67

Thank you thank you!! ^_^

47. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Honestly depends on how long it takes for me to finish writing it. I am terrible about revising/editing. I will go into a writing frenzy(sometimes editing as I go) if I step away from the fic for a significant amount of time, I will reread what I have which means some level of editing. Once it's all complete sometimes I will reread it one last time before posting, sometimes not. This means the only three fics I know went through any amount of significant editing are All I Ask and Keep Smiling, Keep Shining which were for SLS fest and sat in my WIP box for a significant amount of time just waiting to get posted, as well as A Matter of Time which I originally planned to sit on and post with the appropriate month. Seriously, the originally posting schedule was going to last a year. I just got impatient. Usually I write a fic and immediately post it before I can overthink it too much.

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

Oooooh, I know I used to have an immediate answer for this. Carrie is a blast to write when I get her right. Getting the balance of mean girl confidence with underlying insecurities, the witty snark but competent leader. Reader reactions sometimes do sway what I write but not so much my opinion of my writing.

59. Does anyone in your personal life know you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

Several people in my life know I write fic. I don't remember how we clocked this about each other but a coworker and I both write fic and will often gush about writing things. We don't share any of the same fandoms but we have a blast discussing some of the universal truths of fandoms and fic writing. My wife is almost dangerous knowing I write/read fic. She'll clock what hyperfixation I may be slipping into and try and use it to bait me. In a fun teasing way. Like during JatP she teased me about my love of bass players (she played bass at one point), she drew me a little Reggie, bought me a Cameo from Jeremy Shada for our anniversary. When she saw the starts of the TMNT phase she was like "Hey, I have this game on switch we can try, you can play as Donnie!!" There are so many instances in mine and my wifes chat where I ask her a question and her immediate response is some version of "what fic is this for?"

67. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

A mix of both. Like my own ideas a great I love them and it's amazing when other people also enjoy them but there is also something special about having to work within the confines of challenge or seeing someone gushing over something you wrote especially for them.

[sl-walker]

Ad Astra News - 5/21 - 5/27

State of the Archive

Currently the archive is up, running and stable on otw-archive.  Technical issues include: Links from e-mails not landing on the correct subdomain, so if you want to join up, you have to add beta.adastrafanfic.com/[insert validation link] in order to validate your account.  If you don’t want to or can’t, though, just hit me up and I’ll do it from the back end!  Another technical issue is that dates/times aren’t populating correctly on newly posted stories, but that’s a pretty minor thing.  If you see a bug, let me know!

If you do join up and want to post, please make sure you read the Tagging FAQ.

The original eFiction archive will become a static-only monument on September 1st, 2023.

Weekly Challenge # 6

On our chat server that starts with a D, the current challenge is New Homes; between 100 and 700 words of fic about new homes, be they literal places, new ships, new crews or people in general.

Stories Archived

Star Trek: Enterprise

By Jespah

The New House - G - Malcolm Reed/OFC

By @merfilly

The Unquiet End - T - Takashi Kimura/Hoshi Sato

Star Trek: The Original Series

By @beatrice-otter

Undiscovered Stars - G - James T. Kirk/Lando Calrissian (SW x-over) The One Great Choice - T - Cleante al-Faisal, T'Shael, Jasmine al-Faisal

By @merfilly

A Breath of Fresh Air - T - Emony Dax/Leonard “Bones” McCoy Dreams - G - Hikaru Sulu Feelings - G - Spock Introspection - G - James T. Kirk Diplomacy - G - Mara, Pavel Chekov Storyteller - G - Nyota Uhura Serenity - G - Leonard “Bones” McCoy, Julian Bashir (x-over with DS9) So Much - G - Montgomery “Scotty” Scott Enterprise - G Contemplation - M - David Marcus/Saavik Strong Ones - T - Una Chin-Riley/Nyota Uhura A Gift - T - James T. Kirk/Spock One Friend Lost... One Gained? - G - James T. Kirk A Shore Leave to Remember - G - Leonard “Bones” McCoy, Nyota Uhura Necessary - T - Leonard “Bones” McCoy The Sound of His Engines - G - Montgomery “Scotty” Scott Frayed - G - Christine Chapel Sippin' Time - G - Leonard “Bones” McCoy Complications of Empire - G - Kang Farewells - G - Christopher Pike Just One Man - G - Leonard “Bones” McCoy Change of Command - G - Christopher Pike, Robert April Points of Communion - M - David Marcus/Saavik She Would Have Known - G - Spock Acceptance - G - James T. Kirk, David Marcus Memories of Smoke - G - Nyota Uhura Assumptions - G - Spock, Sarek

By @sl-walker

'Cross the River - G - Spock Iron - T - Montgomery “Scotty” Scott & Spock Not Too Soon - G - Sarek, Amanda Grayson, Spock Maps, Rules and Moderation - G - James T. Kirk & Leonard “Bones” McCoy

Star Trek: Alternate Original Series

By @beatrice-otter

Those Left Behind - G - Christopher Pike, Sarek

Star Trek: The Next Generation

By @beatrice-otter

the simple secret of the plot - G - Guinan/Jean-Luc Picard Hope of Thee (The Zombie Remix) - G - Lwaxana Troi, Kestra Troi Processing - T - Data, Deanna Troi Reboot: The Chase - G - Jean-Luc Picard (x-over with Stargate:SG1) Reboot (Legacy) - G - Jean-Luc Picard (x-over with Stargate:SG1)

By @merfilly

Game in Town - G - Q Intimidated - G - Worf Admiral Compensations - T - Jean-Luc Picard Fell For Him - G - Beverly Crusher

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

By @beatrice-otter

Nerys and the Emissary - G - Kira Nerys & Benjamin Sisko In Due Season - T - Prophet/Joseph Sisko (Rape/Noncon) Ornament - T - Kira Nerys, Lupaza

By @merfilly

In a Different World - T - Elim Garak (Mirror)

Star Trek: Voyager

By @sl-walker

Idle - G - Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay

Expanded Universes

By LordMcCoveyCove

Communiques - G The New Threat - M - Tenth Doctor (x-over with Doctor Who)

[llycaons]

Section Four: Part XI

In another life: modern AUs - no magic

*giant mancala* by astrolesbian

summary: uh oh! wwx, jc, and jzx get locked in the basement the day before the xuanli wedding! they proceed to get smashed. family bonding ensues. I just love this fic - very funny and heartwarming work issues: none author issues: has written genderbends

A Temporary Fix by bosgood

summary: wen qing, wen ning, and wwx are living paycheck to paycheck and on the run from us immigration authorities, who will deport them to face death if they’re discovered. wq pov, and not long, but a harrowing and painful journey, especially when they run into a familiar face while seeking medical care. this fic is devastating, but it’s really well-done, it does not end on as depressing a note it could have, and it’s not without its moments of levity and humor work issues: none author issues: jl/lsz

*Unstrictly Ballroom by Ariaste

summary: WOW. professional dancing AU. lwj reunites with wwx after 13 years away from the scene and they embark on a quest to challenge heteronormative dance regulations. the characterizations are good! the writing flows well and is funny. the juniors are really a delight, jc is great except he’s maybe too heroic, and wq is a bit too mean :( also we never saw jyl which bummed me out. but mianmian had a really prominent role, and I loved how they incorporated sl and xxc wwx is well characterized as a wonderful but not perfect teacher, and someone who masks constantly to avoid letting his true feelings or wants be heard. maybe a little more insecure than I’d like. lwj is correctly portrayed as an intense, obsessive, harshly disciplined professional who cares about doing right. however in the flashback part in his early 20s he was totally normal about stripping which I really don’t think would be faithful to his rigid, judgemental, traditional outlook as a younger man the drawn-out miscommunication plot is really annoying but their dynamic and chemistry is so good and the final scene is such a brilliant amalgamation of the setting and canon themes and characterizations. really blew my expectations out of the water and definitely worth reading. either canon work issues: the issues with the drunk kissing scene were not as well examined as I would have liked but it was whatever author issues: xiyao, jl/lsz

*strangers on the shore by seularen

summary: a super fun cold war-era spy fic where wwx and lwj, together and on the run, have to outmaneuver a nefarious blackmailer! on the ocean! not quite a modern AU, but close enough. switches between jyl pov and wwx’s. all the characterizations were excellent, especially lwj. special shoutout to this jyl, too - she’s personable, kind, bright, protective, daring, sneaky, and very human. the wx was really lovely. I enjoyed the drama and interpersonal tension and secret identities and intrigue, and the way relationship dynamics mirrored canon was very impressive. extremely well researched, and not really taking the side of any country, but instead exploring the people and philosophies behind the conflict, and the injustices all government commit. all the espionage in this fic is really for the safety of the characters, not to benefit any government. there is some violence but really not as much as the tags make it sound. easily one of the best fics that actually confronts societal homophobia and how it would impact a wwx who knows he’s into men and knows that’s dangerous for his family. not ignoring homophobia, but recognizing it without making it gratuitous unfortunately the jc in this one is awful. just really disrespectful and ‘jokingly’ homophobic and he’s never called on it and he never apologized and I hate him, but him and wwx work together for some action scenes. and I think the writing also got a little away form the author at certain points, because the pacing got weird at the end and events seemed disconnected, and I could never tell where anyone was, country-wise. it was a bit confusing. still a satisfying finale, though! work issues: none author issues: none

你吃饭没有 / have you eaten? by heuheu_the_goose

summary: so lwj hasn’t seen wwx in almost a year, and neither has anybody else. he’s still in touch with some of his friends, but hasn’t contacted lwj once in all that time. why did he vanish? where has he been? is he okay? what was their relationship before he disappeared? what happened between them? and will lan wangji ever be able to speak to speak to him again? this modern AU has lovely characterizations - it's about recovery from grief, and the expression of love through food, with a well-written trans lwj. the mystery is fun in the first few chapters but I think it spends far too little time on actually dealing with grief and too much time getting really elaborate on the minutiae of self-analysis and guilt and ‘he’s going to hate me!!! he should hate me!!! which gets tiresome. it’s overall nice, and I liked it a lot, but it wasn’t quite as magical or romantic towards the end as I would have liked. the wq and a-yuan were really great though, as well as the lwj and wwx. work issues: none author issues: none

on your marks, get set, bake! by BlackWiresOnHerHead

summary: if you don’t already like great british bakeoff, you probably won’t enjoy this fic. but I watch gbbo and I am just floored by how accurate this fic is to the show in terms of structure, dialogue, judging, tone, atmosphere, and food. a bit ooc by necessity, but not too much. mostly a lighthearted, funny, and engaging work depicting the characters we all know and love competing in this baking competition, with a satisfying conclusion. half of the fic is the juniors watching the show from the future and getting super invested, but I think that section is bad so I skip it. also there is wx at the very end, but I find the lwj and the romance very dull and forgettable, even cringe work issues: wwx (the juniors’ RA at college) just loves calling himself their mom. super fucking annoying author issues: well. see above

An Ache Like This by sofriel

summary: trans wangxian! fic starts with lwj mourning his mother and follows him through his childhood and young adulthood. it skips through years and arcs and ends at a really tender postcanon get-together scene work issues: none author issues: none

Everything You Wanted to Find by brooklinegirl

summary: wwx and lwj visit the jiangs as a couple and things are good! it’s a sweet fic, I thought the character dynamics were all very natural and I enjoyed it a lot work issues: none author issues: age gaps, lsz/jl, and sex pollen

*and after all…by BlackWiresOnHerHead

summary: a funny little oneshot where characters keep trying to play wonderwall and other characters get mad and interrupt them before they can finish. that’s it. wangxian are cute. jyl is horny for her boyfriend. nhs is secretly a menace. jc is clowned upon. it’s good fun. note: this work uses the term ‘chengxian’ in the tags to refer to wwx and jc’s platonic sibling relationship work issues none author issues:: genderbends, wwx calling himself a mom

varied my velocities by fantasiavii

summary: ballet dancer lwj and soccer player wwx. lwj is gnc and works through internalized homophobia exacerbated by other members of the ballet community. emotionally powerful and clearly written out of personal experience, so I both cried and learned a lot about ballet as an art form lwj’s issues here are rather specific to ballet, so he feels somewhat disconnected from his canon character. and wwx isn’t quite ooc, but he’s rather generic and nothing jumps out about him that the reader would recognize as wwx without being told. it read almost as original fiction, and therefore I found the chemistry rather lacking because I didn’t feel like I knew the characters. but it’s a good story nonetheless lwj is a sub in this and it’s actually explored quite thoughtfully and beautifully as an important part of his identity work issues: none author issues: none

My Heart’s Desire by phnelt

summary: established relationship. either canon. a funny and sweet little fic about lwj taking a shot at some jin event and getting drunk and trying to steal a painting and wwx wrangling him to take him home. really funny! I love how judgemental wwx is about the jins work issues: none author issues: has written genderbends, cnc, A/B/O, and sex pollen

the whole day alone with you by fantasiavii

summary: hurt/comfort oneshot - wwx is trans and having a bad period. a very loving little fic written by a trans author work issues: none author issues: none

merry christmas ya filthy animal by belovedmuerto

summary: jzx pov! he, jyl, and their baby fly from china to california to spend the holidays with wwx, lwj, and their baby. jzx is endearingly awkward in this fic and he clearly loves his family so much. it’s funny to watch him and lwj vibing without needing to talk while their respective spouses carry the conversation, and the writing for the babies was really cute work issues: it described wwx as a gremlin and make him kind of annoying and immature, but not to the point where it ruined the fic. also, wwx and lwj start celebrating christmas here, which I don’t love, but they’re taking it as a family holiday/tradition for themselves rather than a religious event. since this is modern AU and set in the usa, I can see it. my roommate did the same thing author issues: none

the thought of us seems wholly make-believe by fensandmarshes

summary: very short, very fun oneshot where wwx, jc, lwj, and some others play dnd. jc gets mad. it’s hilarious work issues: none author issues: none

Back to Start

[moonunwell]

Trying to write fic set in the Shadowlands is starting to become a challenge bc like. beyond game mechanics that require SL zones to be just like any other in-game zones, how DO they work in the lore? Do you really need to spend currency even in places like Bastion and Ardenweald? Are there any elements that a shaman would be able to call upon? What about ley lines?? WHat about nature magic how does that work???? Can a living being subsist on Shadowlands food? For that matter what biological needs do the dead have, if any??? Are there like. bathrooms?? in the Shadowlands?????

[emmikmil]

keep me in your heart for a while

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female!reader

Word count: 6,6K

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Warnings: Mild talk of injuries, a little sad, oral sex (f receiving) unprotected sex (this is fantasy ok IRL wrap that shit up and be SAFE)

Summary: You help Din after a chance encounter near your home. A friends to lovers with fluff, smut, some hurt/comfort and some mild angst. Set before and during season 1 of The Mandalorian.

A/N: This is part of the sl+ discord fic exchange and I wrote this for the amazing and lovely @koskareevesismyqueen   I hope you enjoy!! Also big love to @soyelfuegoquearde for the beta read of my monster fic! Fic title is from the song Keep me in your heart by The Wailin’ Jennys <3

It takes you by surprise to hear blaster fire breaking the tranquil silence as you walk home. You had taken your bi weekly trip to the bustling city close by to stock up on supplies and it was unusual for any person, let alone people with blasters, to be nearby. Where you live is quiet and peaceful, nothing violent has happened in this small corner of the galaxy. Your house was tucked deep in the forest, nobody using this trail but you in your trips back and forth to the city. 

You step off the path slowly to lean against a nearby tree to peer over to your left. The blaster fire had ceased for a moment but it renewed again, only closer this time. You drop down quickly, your heart jumping to your throat as an odd pinging noise rattles the air, like the shots were hitting something metal and a groan echoes throughout the trees. One last shot, then silence settles in the quickly dimming forest.

You take a few moments to breathe and get your heart settled before walking on shaky legs to the path. You have to get home, you can’t dwell on whatever fight has taken place. It’s over and it was best you got home before darkfall. As you continue down the trail, your adrenaline spikes again as you hear shuffling and more groaning. You pause and swivel your head back towards the sound. You had figured with the final shots there was no one left alive. Something inside told you to go, told you someone needed help. You pace for a moment longer, mind clicking into overdrive wondering what you were going to do. With a sigh, you walk off the path again, telling yourself you would just look and see. You doubt you can fix a blaster wound, but maybe your limited knowledge could help.

You make your steps as quiet as possible as you crept to the outskirts of the scene. Before you was a man, with his hands bound in front of him and several more men lay around him. None of them were moving and you assume it wasn’t them making those noises. Rustling to your left makes your gaze snap to another man, a very large armored man.

 A Mandalorian. 

You try in earnest to contain your gasp at the sight. Your eyes grow wide and you unknowingly take a few steps forward. You had grown up on stories about the Mandalorians. Their honor and creed at the forefront of every story about the armoured warriors. They had always fascinated you as a child and now one was right in front of you. He was trying to sit up now, struggling with his leg and holding a hand to his side. Before you could take another step his other hand snapped out, leveling his blaster point blank at you without even looking up.

“No, wait sir please, don’t shoot! I heard blasters and thought someone might be hurt, I just wanted to help!” You hold up your hands for good measure and back away a few steps. He finally looks at you, studying you carefully before slowly lowering his blaster. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “Can I- Will you let me help you stand up at least?” you ask, still eyeing his blaster wearily.

“Thank you, that would be appreciated.” His reply startles you for some reason. You thought perhaps it was the fact that a Mandalorian was speaking to you in the first place, but really it was that despite the modulator in his helmet making his voice sound tinny, it still sounded so warm. Deep, warm and husky were the best descriptions, the only thoughts flying through your brain as you stare at the sprawled out figure below you. With a small shake to your head, you drop your heavy bag and walk forward to offer up your hand. 

“You’re either very brave or not very bright for doing this-” His own words cut off with a grunt as he stands, leaning more on his right leg. He stumbles a bit before your arms reach out, grasping his forearms to steady him.

“It’s closing in on sundown, it’ll be cold. I didn’t want to leave a helpless person out in the forest alone.” You couldn’t help but huff, annoyed at his words, more so that he was somewhat right in his criticism.

“A helpless person with a blaster?”

“Hey, I only came closer because you’re a Mandalorian! Your people are honorable and you wouldn’t hurt an innocent person...right?” You hate the hesitancy in your voice, how it shakes a little in the pause before you finish your sentence. You had assumed, once he assessed you were not a threat, that the man in armor wouldn’t cause you any harm. Before you can doubt yourself or start to run, he lays a hand down gently on your shoulder.

“I won’t hurt you.” His voice, while still laced in pain, was soft and comforting, soothing any panic starting to swell in you. “If you could just help me to my ship, I can patch up before heading out.” You nod and gently take his arm to place it around your shoulders, slowly starting to lead him towards the path.

“Oh, what about the uh…” you point behind you to the bounty still on the forest floor before leaning down, heaving your bag to settle on your back before adjusting the Mandalorians arm back around your shoulders.

“Leave it, I’ll come back for them in the morning.” With that, you both start towards his ship in silence, which was parked not too far away from your own home. You had heard something late the night before, chalking it up to a dream and not paying much attention to it. That had to have been when he landed. You pause again for him to catch his breath, his movements getting more lethargic, his ankle dragging worse and worse.

“How much farther is your ship again Mandalorian?” you ask while steadying his form. It was nearly black out now, the only light visible was the stars above and the small twinkle of light coming from the small lamp in your window.

“It’s just there,” he points towards the right ”just past that treeline, down the hill. Another twenty minute walk.” you bark out a laugh and pivot him back to the left.

“No way, neither of us can last that long, especially in the dark. My house is right here, I can patch you up and you can stay with me for the night. No arguing” The last bit spoken quickly when you hear him take a breath to respond. 

You already knew he was quiet and independent, and somewhat stubborn, but you were not helping this man limp another twenty minutes. You guide him up the small path to your door, leaving his side to open it and gesture him to come inside, He limps in and stands in the middle of the room, watching as you bounce around the room, putting your supplies down on the table and rummaging in a drawer in the kitchen for your small medkit. You turn back and bite your lip in thought, glancing between the large Mandalorian and the now comically sized couch and armchair behind him.

“Go through that door, my bed will be easier for me to patch you up on.” You turn, setting water to boil for some tea before following him back to your room. “You have to take off some of that armor for me to take a look…” you flush slightly as he sits rigidly on the side of your bed. You turn away fiddling with the medkit, opening it, taking out some gauze and bacta spray as the sound of armor piling up on your floor echoes around the quiet house. You turn back around as he clears his throat.

The armor covering his leg, stomach, and chest were gone leaving only his worn pants and shirt underneath. The armor piled up in the corner along with both of his boots. You gulp, shaking your head as you bend to examine his ankle. Not broken to his luck, just twisted and swollen. The graze on his side from the blaster fire didn’t look too bad either. To fill the silence as you work you half-heartedly ask the story about this bounty. To your surprise, the Mandalorian, or Mando at his request, told the story of the bounty. How it had only become trouble when several of his crooked buddies came to “rescue” their friend, but ended in all of them dying in the quick battle. You both finish around the same time and he murmurs a quiet thanks as you clean up. You gently touch his shoulder as he goes to sit up.

“Hey now Mando, keep off that ankle. You may hurt it worse moving it more tonight. You’re more than welcome to stay here tonight. I’m making tea now and I’ll bring you some food.”

“You don’t have to go to the trouble” he begins to argue, just like you knew he would, and that thought makes you smile.

“I don’t mind. It’s nice to have company and...it’s cool to meet a Mandalorian. I grew up on stories about you, so-” you shrug at that, shuffling your feet before moving to the door ”besides, the bacta needs to work on that ankle. Should be fine by morning.” you threw over your shoulder before scurrying to the now boiling water. You could have sworn you heard a soft laugh but push that thought away, instead focusing on a small plate of food and tea for Mando.

-------

He sits in the cockpit of the Razor Crest, leaning his head back for a moment to watch the morning light break through the horizon. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, too on edge to rest his body how he needed to. The adrenaline of the day before from the ambush hadn’t faded as it normal did. Being hurt, feeling almost helpless as he heard a figure walk toward him. He is glad now he didn’t shoot first like he normally did. He won’t admit to being startled by this woman in the middle of forest, walking right onto a grizzly scene wanting to do nothing but help the person who was injured. It left his guard up, and he nearly rejected her, but that tree root twisted his ankle something fierce, and he was not looking forward to crawling back to his ship in the dark. 

Din knew he wasn’t the most gracious guest with his stubbornness and attitude but she didn’t even bat an eye. He hopes the credits he left on her table  would be enough to pay for the supplies she wasted on him. As he takes off, heading to take the now frozen body back to Nevarro, he finally allows his body to relax in his comfort space. He had seen very little kindness in his adult life, specifically kindness where some kind of reward wasn’t expected in return. Try as he might to ignore his exchange with the woman, images and conversation from the night before dance around in his head. He wonders when, if ever, they will fade.

-------

You admit you had been just a little disappointed that he had left so early, and he had been so incredibly silent. You had startled awake from the nest you’d made in your cozy chair well into the late morning. You had walked to your table to see his dishes from the night before, his empty tea cup and his plate that you had put bread and cheese on. You couldn’t help but laugh at the crusts, now incredibly stale, still left on the plate. The big, strong, and snarky Mandalorian didn’t like the bread crusts. Your laugh died  on your tongue as the light hit the large pile of credits stacked just behind the dishes. You shifted everything around, hoping he had left a note or explanation for the credits, but there was none to be found. 

Your mind drifts to him often in the next several weeks. Every time you use the credits you thought of him. You spent them to restock your med kit, and even treat yourself to some books you had been eyeing for too long now. Sometimes at night, curled in your chair by the fire with your new books your mind would wander. Mostly you wonder if he thought about you, if his own mind drifts to the quiet night you two had shared. It hadn’t been much. After patching him up you brought him some food and tea, slinking away with heat flooding your face when you realized he couldn’t take off his helmet in front of you. You two talked a bit later that night, when you came to check his ankle before bed. He had been quiet and watchful of every move you made. He did answer the few questions about his creed that you just couldn’t help but ask. You wish now that you had asked more, wanting to hear his voice more, but all you could do was commit the moments to memory, a tale to tell your future children of how you saved a real Mandalorian. 

Perhaps that is why you were so gobsmacked when said Mandalorian walked up to you several weeks later as you tend to the garden. His shadow engulfing your frame as you crouch, urging the crooked plant to stand upright.

“Are you...here for a bounty or something? I-shit i’m sorry that was rude.” You can’t help but smile as his shoulders shook under the armor as you fidget with your gloves.

“Had to stop and get supplies. Figured I would come see if you’ve saved any other strangers in the forest.” you scoff at his teasing tone, standing up to brush the dirt off your legs.

“I did actually, they even ate the crusts on their bread, unlike the last guy.” Your glare and cocky smirk  melt away to a large smile as the Mandalorian barks out a real genuine laugh. “Come on now Mando, I’ll put on some tea.” 

This interaction happens time and time again, he would stop by every month or so on his way to turn in bounties. After a few visits he brought you different teas he would find in markets around the galaxy, or even a book he thought you would like. The air between you two was easy, and you could tell he was more and more comfortable, having no problem lounging by the fire listening to your rattle on about the book you were reading or what your friends had been up to in the city. He never stayed overnight at your house again, but he would stay late sometimes and those were your favorite times. 

You two would sit close and talk more seriously, leaving your usual joking and playful banter to die out with the sunlight. He told you of his parents, his childhood, his early days when he was reckless and wild. In turn you shared your secrets, troubles and your dreams. Mando may not be the most talkative during some visits but he was always so attentive, soaking up every word you said. It was one of those moments where he first called you cyare instead of your name. As you looked at him confused, he confessed, quite nervously in fact, that it meant friend in mando’a and your heart swelled. You knew he was alone a lot of the time and it sent warmth  to flood your body knowing that he considered you a friend, a real friend. 

Before you knew it, it had been over a year since you two had first met. You never quite knew when he would arrive, but he did each time, gift in hand asking if you had picked up any more wayward strangers and each time you would accept his present and roll your eyes as he laughs. You believe it was in these moments, in the playful jabs, the afternoons spent talking, that you felt the joy of friendship blossom into a yearning unlike anything you've ever felt. It made you happy to be his friend, even if it stings with the wish to be more than that. So you took each visit and savored the moments,

This latest visit was on the shorter side, with him being behind from hunting someone down and he needed to turn them in ASAP. Yet  he still stopped in to see you, handing you more of your newfound favorite tea. Time went by fast as you talk and catch up and soon enough he stands, heading for your door before turning to look at you.

"Be safe cyare, don't bring home any strangers." You roll your eyes playfully like always

"You too big guy, watch out for those tree roots on your way out!" Your giggle echoes behind you as he dramatically flings your door open and strolls out to his ship. You follow and wave from your doorway as he leaves, only going inside as you see him fly away. Your heart aches but your usual goodbyes always soften the blow of his absence, the nicknames and inside jokes bringing a smile to your face,

You just wished that you savored that last visit more, wished it had been longer. That last goodbye echoed in your mind as the next month comes and goes with no sign of Mando. Then two months, then three pass with nothing. His voice bounced in your mind, echoing in the silent nights. You knew how dangerous his job was, had seen a small portion of it first hand, but you never questioned the possibility of him just being...gone. 

You had no way of communicating with him, knew of nobody else he knew. Asking around the town was hopeless, and with every month that passed, the more your heart cracked open.  By the sixth month you just stopped hoping, stopped imagining him walking through your doorway. You continued with life, work, friends, and shopping. Before you always enjoyed taking walks through the forest, but now it left such an ache in your chest, passing the spot near your home where you first met him. Going back and forth to the city was now a dreaded task that you put off as long as possible.

This is where you find yourself now, hurrying past that area with your head down, swallowing down all your emotions. Your only focus right now was to get in the house, put your items away and lose yourself in a book to unwind. You repeat this like a mantra in your mind, focusing so heavily on it that hearing your name almost makes you stumble backwards. Your head snaps up, eyes widening as you take in the sight of Mando walking towards you. The moment feels like it’s in slow motion, feeling so dreamlike and it's not until he touches your face with his gloved hand that the spell breaks. With a gasping sob you throw yourself into his body, holding him for dear life and whimpering out his name as you try to catch your breath.

"Oh cyare, I'm so sorry. I came as soon as I could."  He held you right to his chest as he soothes your hair back. He kept murmuring apologies softly in your ear as your cries finally dwelled and you two stand like this, clinging to each other in relief, only breaking away when a soft coo sounds from somewhere behind Mando. You sniffle and peek behind his body, seeing an orb floating midair with a small bundle inside. You look between the orb and Mando before stepping around him and walking forward. Sitting up inside the orb was the cutest little green baby staring up at you.

“Well hi there little one.” you say as you bend down to be at eye level with the baby. He stares at you with his large dark eyes before making another cooing sound and holding his tiny arms out to you. You glance back at Mando who nods, and you carefully nestle the baby in the crook of your arm, being careful of the obnoxiously big ears that now wiggle as he smiles up at you. The baby’s smile widens and he makes an almost purring sound as Mando walks up, placing one hand on your lower back and the other to pat the baby’s head with gentle affection. You smile as you look up at Mando. “Seems like you’re the one picking up strangers now, huh?” The low laugh Mando makes sets your heart leaping from your chest. You must be making a face because he slowly starts to rub circles into your back.

“It’s a long story, but the kid and I can stay awhile If...that’s alright with you?” He seems nervous and hesitant asking this, but on instinct you grab his hand and pull him towards your front door,

“I’ve got all the time in the world Mando. I’ll make tea and food while you talk.”

For the rest of the afternoon and early evening Mando tells you everything that happened with this small bounty, his change of heart, the harrowing close encounters and the overall life on the run these two had endured. While it hurt knowing how hard Mando pushed and fought to keep them safe, it made you happy that he wasn’t alone. It was easy to see how close they had grown, how much of a protective father he has become over this magically inclined green baby. 

The baby quickly attaches to you, eating up every ounce of food you offer him, and you give Mando a knowing look as the baby eats every piece of bread, even the crust. As darkness falls, the baby is put to bed, easily going down from his busy afternoon and silence takes over. Mando fidgets, seeming uncomfortable much like his first visit here and it sets you on edge.

After a while he finally breaks the silence. “I’m sorry again, you know it wasn’t safe to come here before. I couldn’t bring any danger to you. I know you were lonely-”

“Wait, wait. Lonely? You think I was upset because I had been lonely?” Your harsh tone cutting him off made Mando pause and shake his head.

“That’s not what i meant cyare-” You stand up abruptly, shaking your head at him, cutting off his words again

“I thought you were dead. This entire time Mando. I thought all I would ever have are the memories of our stories, our jokes, that your laugh would haunt my dreams. Don’t get me started on that damn nickname you call me,” you stop yourself before you wake the baby and try to compose yourself. Your hand goes to your heart, almost shielding it before you force yourself to take a breath and look Mando straight on. “This wasn’t a friend leaving with no contact for months. It meant so much more- you mean so much more.” 

Your confession hangs there between the two of you, making the air so thick in its resounding silence that you turn away, but a gentle hold on your wrist stops you from moving away. At his whisper of your name you turn, seeing him stand up slowly.

“Cyare means beloved.”

Those three words knock every ounce of air out of you and you blink away tears as you stare at him in wonder. “Mando does that...mean that you-”

“Yes, for a long time now.” He steps forward and bends his head, bringing your foreheads to touch. You then take hold of either side of his helmet, bringing him down even more so that you press your lips to his forehead. After he lets out a shaky exhale he asks quietly “Do you trust me?”

Without even an ounce of hesitation, you answer “Yes, absolutely I trust you.”

He gently takes your hand and  leads you back to your bedroom. He pushes the door open and closes it as you walk in. You hope he can't hear how loud you swallow as he closes the curtains, blocking out the moonlight and plunging the room in complete darkness.

The next moments would be engraved into your mind for the rest of your days. A gentle hiss filled the room before you felt hot air near your face. “Can I kiss you cyare?” His lips are so close to yours and you shiver as your mind struggles to catch up. With a hitch in your breath you realize…

His helmet. He took off his helmet.

With that realization you surge forward, pressing your lips to his and throwing your hands up and forward to bury themselves in his hair. Mando lets out a small gasp at the contact, the true first bit of touch he’s felt on his face, and you take the opportunity to gently slide your tongue inside his mouth; Deepening the kiss makes both of your brains go fuzzy and it's a sloppy and beautiful tangle of lips and tongues. You have no idea how long you two stand there and kiss, learning and exploring each other’s mouths, but you wish with every bit of your heart that this moment, this feeling, everything that you’re experiencing with him will never end.

However it does have to end, and you break apart to catch your breath, noses touching as you both pant. Mando takes no time however, and presses wet kisses all over your face, seeming to not want to keep his lips off of you. You giggle at his affection, pulling him closer to slow his movements, fumbling in the dark to find his lips as you kiss him sweetly before pulling away once more. “Let's catch our breath a bit, Mando.” He’s so close to you, you can feel his lips turn up into a small smile. 

"Sorry, got carried away there. I've never…" At his pause you want to smack yourself, remembering just how important this was. To take his helmet off to kiss you, even in the dark? You wonder exactly how inexperienced he is but his voice returns once more. "I don't regret it, this was-this was worth waiting for."

One of your hands leaves his hair and you cup his cheek, feeling the slight stubble beneath your palm. "Oh Mando, I-"

"Din. My name's Din. You can use it if...you'd like to." 

You felt his jaw shake under your palm, could damn near taste his nervousness and that just wouldn't do. You whisper his name against his lips before diving back into his kisses. At this his resolve seems to snap and his hands tentatively start to wander from their place on your waist, one tracing up and down your spine while the other grips your hip.

You slowly start to walk him backward towards your bed, but Din surprises you as he flips you two around and falls back, sending you both tumbling onto the bed. The movement was so quick and unexpected you couldn’t help but let out a giggle as you cuddle up to him and continue to press kisses on his lips, the tip of his nose, and back to nip at his jaw. That contentment you both had just standing and kissing in your room fades as his body settles next to yours. You lay on your sides facing each other, sharing kisses wherever you could reach. 

Before things could go further, you had a burning question to ask. "Din we can just do this. I don't want to pressure you into more, especially if this is your first time and-"

His laugh was somehow even more enchanting outside of the helmet and butterflies erupt in your chest before bursting into flames as he speaks. "I meant I had never kissed before, I have done...other things before, just with the helmet on."

You can't help but nuzzle his nose with affection before whispering "I want this if you do Din." The moment his pleas left his mouth you threw your leg over his hip and try to grind down on him as you pull him into a searing kiss.

He sighs into the kiss before he pulls away and starts tearing away his armor and clothes. At least that is what you assume he's doing by the dull thuds and clanks and muttered curses. You take the hint too, quickly peeling off your clothes. As you finish you feel his bare hand reach for you and he pulls you back into him, throwing your leg over his now bare hip and putting his lips back onto yours.

This lit a fire in you, unlike anything you’ve known. You wanted him now, needed all of him or else flames would consume every part of you. It took you a moment to realize the high-pitched whine you heard didn’t come from Din. He was currently whispering your name with his hand gripping your hip, stilling your hips.

“I just need, please I just-let me kiss you. I want to taste you, please.” he whispers against your lips and the desperate sound of his voice breaks through the kiss driven lust inside your brain. You remember with a jolt that he’s never kissed anyone, never tasted anyone before,and you take in a shaky breath before rolling onto your back. You couldn’t name what exactly that swell of emotions was inside you as he began to place kisses over your face and down your neck. Knowing that you are the first person he’s ever wanted or trusted to kiss brings a flood of warmth to your chest. That warmth however quickly rushed down to your abdomen as Din licks the hollow of your throat and presses a small kiss there. He takes his time as he kisses down over your heart and further to your breasts

He spends longer there than you expect, very clearly enjoying the feel of them in his hands as he massages and kisses every inch of them. He’s sucked more bruises on your breast than anything but you have no heart to complain. He only stops when you finally beg him to move, and he mutters a quick apology as he kisses and licks to your stomach. His hands move to your knees and prys your thighs apart. As he settles lower to place kisses along your inner thigh he stops. You realize with a rush of heat to your face, just how wet your thighs had become. You had been rubbing them together trying to find any relief as he devoured every inch of your breasts and you didn’t realize just how wet it made you. You suck in a breath as you feel Din’s fingers lightly trace over your slit and he groans as realization also settles in for him.

“We’ve barely...I haven’t even touched you here and you’re already this wet for me?” you can’t help but let out a breathless laugh at his voice, which sounds like he is in complete awe of you. Before you can reply his head dips down, licking your arousal from your thighs. He takes great care in licking both thighs clean and you nearly cry in relief when he licks from your entrance to your clit in one slow movement. You can feel his hands shake as he holds your thighs apart and slowly works you over with his tongue. 

You know Din has never done this before, so you let him explore you like this, enjoying the sensations of his mouth all over your pussy. His unsure kisses around your lips, the long licks up your slit gave way to him being more confident with your hums and gasps of approval urging him forward. While it feels amazing, you need more, so you take his hair in your hand and with a slight tug, you get his attention.

“Up here, right here at my clit just-” you let out a choked out gasp as he licks right where you need it. “There Din, just suck there and- and put your fingers inside me, just one to start.” Din was all too eager to please you and gently sucks on your clit while he pushes one of his thick fingers inside you. You kept one hand twisted around his hair and the other to cover your mouth from the very loud moans now tumbling out. With a particularly harsh suckle, you gripped his hair even more, pushing him forward as your hips lift to grind down onto his face. The vibrations from Din groaning into your heat only magnifies the feeling and you melt, doing nothing but writhe and muffling your gasps and moans. As you feel a second finger breach you to join the first, his other hand curling around your wrist near your mouth. You close your lips to try and keep quiet as Din gently pulls your hand down to the mattress and intertwines your fingers together.

“I want to hear you, please, I want to listen to you fall apart.” His lips barely leave you, his warm breath coming out in pants over your sensitive clit, the puffs of air sending goosebumps down your whole body. With that, he returned to licking, sucking, and even biting a little, and soon enough, you did exactly as he asked. You didn’t hold back the sounds and moans spewing from your mouth and you damn near scream his name as a third finger entered you just as your orgasm hit. His fingers never let up their steady rhythm, only slowing when your body releases from its rigid state and you melt into the blankets beneath you. You twitch and sigh as you feel his fingers leave you and his tongue replaces them, gently licking you, drinking up every bit of your release.

As your breathing slows back to normal, you feel Din shift between your thighs, and you hear him grunt as a slick sound fills the room. The heat that melted from your body with your orgasm came back tenfold when you realize those slick sounds were Din stroking his cock. Stroking himself with the hand that was just moments ago finger fucking you, making his cock slick and preparing to enter you.  Your every thought was lost in a lusty haze that you didn’t realize you began to murmur the word please over and over again, Din leans over you, pressing his lips to yours softly to quiet you down.

“Are you ok? You want to keep going?” His questions were so sincere, it was made funnier when you realize the fingers cupping your cheek were the same that were buried inside you and stroking his cock only moments before. Grinning, you push forward, kissing the edge of his mouth softly before wrapping your legs around his waist to guide him to fit perfectly between your open thighs.

“Yes, I’m good, please let’s keep going.” With that Din seals his lips to yours and shifts, slowly pressing inside you. You only broke the kiss when Din finally bottomed out, parting to both groan as your walls clenched around him. His thick cock stretches you just enough to almost be painful before it fades out into pure bliss as he grinds into you. You cling to his back as he starts to move. He keeps his thrusts shallow and deep, keeping himself buried in you as much as possible. All you can do is hold on for dear life as he steadily fucks you deeper into the mattress. His lips never leave your skin, mostly he keeps them on your lips to swallow down every gasp you let out. From this angle, his pubic hair was giving just the smallest bit of friction to your clit and while it feels good, you need a new angle. With every bit of force you can muster you clamp your thighs around him and roll the both of you over so you loom over him.

“Was that not good? Was I-" you cut off the questions  with a mess of a kiss, and even if he can't see you, you gave him the biggest grin.

"Wanted to try something new. I can't let you always be in control Din, you have to learn to share." And with that you grind down and circle your hips, grinning even more at the gasp and slew of curses that escaped his lips. You set a faster past than before,  the fire building inside was growing stronger with each second. Next time you tell yourself, next time you two will take it slow. Right now all that matters is the burning in your belly, the chills crawling up your spine, and Din moaning your name into the dark room.

It seems it is Din’s turn, his patience snapping, he moves his iron grip on your hips to your ass, gripping them as he slams you down onto him as he thrusts up. This sucks every bit of air from your lungs and you fall forward, bracing yourself on his chest as he picks up the pace. Just as your breath returns to you and you moan, the air whooshes back out of your lungs as Din spits out through clenched teeth. “That’s my good girl, I knew you could take my cock so well. So. Fucking. Well.” Each of his last words were punctuated by bone rattling thrusts and you scream into his chest before sitting up, prying one of Din’s hands off your ass, bringing it to your clit. He takes the hint and swirls tight and fast circles around you and it is just what you need. With a broken cry you fall apart, collapsing back onto his chest and groaning into his shoulder. Din holds you close and meets his end after a few more thrusts, clutching your back and burying his face into your hair. You two lie there tangled together until you can catch your breaths. Eventually you lean up and you giggle as you try and fail to find his lips. He chuckles too as your lips find his cheek and chin before finally pressing against his lips. You kiss lazily like this, basking in the afterglow; tongues tangling, your hands twisted in his hair, and his nails slowly tracing lines up and down your back.

Din is the first to pull away, rolling you both over to the side before he starts to pull away.

“No, stay” you mumble groggily, the emotions and actions of the day weighing heavily on your now sated body.

“I’ll be back, we need to clean up.” he huffs as you whine and paw at his body, but Din easily gives in, letting you win this battle. He gladly lets you position him back down, lying flat on the bed as you cuddle into his chest.

“Clean later, just hold me for a bit.” He kisses your forehead and you hum in contentment. As your body falls deeper into relaxing, sleep slowly taking over, you hear him speak quietly, lips till pressed to your head.

“Good night cyar'ika.” 

This rouses you from your sleepy state enough to ask, “that one doesn’t mean friend, right?” You smile as you feel his body shake beneath you as he laughs.

“No, it doesn’t mean friend. Good night Darling.” 

You both fall asleep with smiles on your faces and hearts fuller than either of you even knew possible.

[knivesareout]

remain devious

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Smut (18!!!+ ONLY), slight sexism, oral sex (f receiving), mild breath play (under negotiated kink).

A/N: My fic for The SL+ Discord™ Fic Exchange! This goes out to the lovely @soyelfuegoquearde​​​ who I was graced with writing a fic for and here’s hoping I delivered. 💖

Read on AO3 here.

Summary: Javier Peña’s mouth was going to get him in trouble one day-- if only he’d put it to good use.

---

There weren’t many people who could go toe-to-toe with Javier Peña. You learned the first day on assignment in Bogotá that you could.

The embassy was a quick walk from the apartment complex they’d set you up in and while they had suggested you drive the standard issue bullet proof Jeep they’d provided, mostly for safety’s sake, it seemed like a waste.

A blonde man, who quickly introduces himself as Steve Murphy, was outside to greet you with a strong handshake and a grin. You almost anticipate him to be rude to you out of the sheer fact you were joining the fight late but he seems grateful, explaining to you the ins and outs of the different sectors in the large building that made up the Embassy: the DEA, the Mil Group, and the CIA-- all housed under one roof with a common goal: taking down Pablo Escobar.

“There’s another one, right? We have another partner?” You ask, turning a corner and almost running into a woman who looked beyond frazzled and you apologize quickly before catching up with Steve.

Steve turns over his shoulder to glance at you, a smirk curled on his lips. “Yeah. Peña’s usually late. You’ll meet him. At some point.”

Peña was two hours late.

You and Steve go through six briefs and four cups of coffee between the two of you in the small office shared among your team before your other partner decides to grace you with his presence. Your desk that was once clean was now a disaster with papers scattered and crumpled across the top and you now had a headache slowly creeping between your eyes.

“Well this just looks fucking sad,” a deep voice sounds from the doorway and you snap your head up to glare at the offending noise.

Steve lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “What’s fuckin’ sad is you showing up two hours late and not even bringing us lunch, Peña.”

So this was him.

“Shut the hell up, Murphy. Who is this?” Javi points to you and looks at Steve, waiting on an answer.

“I’m your new partner.” You stand up and fix him with an icy glare. “And you can ask me if you have any questions, Agent Peña.”

He doesn’t respond and walks back out of the room, mumbling something about coffee.

---

You realize quickly that you and Javier are more similar than you would personally like. Word around the office was that he was a bit of a slut and that was something you knew all too well. Your reputation back home was something comparable, the whispers more annoying than they were degrading. Who cared if you liked to have sex? You were a grown ass woman and it was nobody’s business but your own.

And if you hadn’t learned just from the regular old office gossip, you were quick to learn from having your apartment right next to his. The walls were thin, the calls of ‘Más duro, Javi,’ in the dead of night interrupting your sleep more times than you could count.

Javier would walk into the office refreshed, hours late, while you were there, on time, and in desperate need of caffeine.  

It wasn’t worth mentioning; at least not at first. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that you could hear his sexual escapades and how he was clearly a fantastic lover. There was a bit of jealousy, just on the surface, because it wasn’t you getting laid and you were sure if you asked him to keep quiet, he would be able to tell immediately that you were hard up.

And while yes, he was getting information from his CIs that was helping in the quest to catch Escobar, that didn’t make it any more bearable. In fact, it made him even more insufferable because he felt like he was doing an extension of his job by sleeping with these women.

It all came to a head three months into your stay in Colombia.

Three nights in a row, Javier had brought women, different women, if the tones of their voices were anything to go by, back to his place. You’d gone into work with dark circles under your eyes after the third night and Steve had long since stopped asking what was wrong after you went off on him a month prior.

After you’d snapped at him and took the time to explain why you were in such a foul mood, he had immediately understood and offered to talk to Javier for you. An idea that you quickly dismissed, as it was your problem and yours alone.

Your head was buried under your arms, the bright lights of the office only serving to make your headache worse. There were two empty cups of coffee stacked on your desk that you’d downed immediately after walking in, Steve having left them there as a peace offering of sorts. He could tell after the second day that you needed the extra help and you had shot him a grateful smile when you’d walked in this morning.

“So, I’ve got a lead,” Javier announces walking into the office only 30 minutes late this time.

“Thank fucking god,” you mumble, picking your head off the desk and swiping at your mouth in case there was any drool from dozing off.

Javier’s head whips towards you, his gaze a mixture of anger and curiosity; like he can’t believe you had the nerve to say anything.

The two of you, at best, tolerated each other. Snarky remarks, quick jabs, and blatantly ignoring the other was how the you two communicated and you knew Steve was getting sick of it. It was a surprise that he hadn’t yelled at either of you over the whole thing but you chalked it all up to his angel of a wife, Connie, helping him keep his temper in check.

“The hell is that supposed to mean, Agent?” Not even on a first name basis, it was how the two of you addressed each other.

You shrug, “Just been hearing a lot of information coming from your apartment every night for the last couple of days. It was about time you got something useful.”

Javi goes to speak but Steve cuts him off with a finger and shoots you a pleading stare that says ‘not another word, please’.

You only keep your mouth shut to appease Steve and sigh, tossing your empty cups into the trash and wait for Javier to spill the information he received.

Javier shoots you a nasty glare before going on to explain something about a brothel in Medellín and some of Escobar’s sicarios. There was a meet up of sorts happening tomorrow afternoon, where you were almost guaranteed to catch Velasco and maybe a few others. Javier distinctly chooses not to look at you when he’s explaining, his information relayed directly to Steve. For whatever reason, this is what seems to break the camel’s back and you stand, beyond irritated.

“Agent Peña, if you have an issue with me then I’m going to need you to be very clear about what it is and why. I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve the freeze out you’ve been adamant about since I got here and frankly, it’s insulting,” you start, chest heaving as you try to keep a level head. “I’m on time every day, without fail. I work just as hard, if not harder, than you do in this wild goose chase and to be treated as anything less is sexist. We all went through the same training, the same courses, to be here. I don’t know what it is about me that bothers you so much but I’m going to need you to get the fuck over it and get with the program if we’re going to get anywhere.”

Your outburst seems to catch him off guard, if his open staring at you is anything to go by. Taking your seat again, you nod for him to continue and he does-- this time making sure you’re included.

Things get better after that and while it’s not quite the comradery you have with Steve, it’s better than it was before and you’ll take it.

Javier now treated you with mild respect and that’s all you had wanted to begin with.

---

The week had been long; tiring and full of false leads. You were sleep deprived and overworked. A chase mid-week that had put you all over Bogotá and left you empty handed was still wreaking havoc on your back a couple days later. Case files were taking over your desk and the thought of looking at even one more had you wanting to scream, the low lights of the office once again giving you a headache that no pain medication seemed to help with.

Javier and Steve were starting to pack up to head out while you sat there, eyes starting to blur as you look at your 5th file in the last hour.

“We’re headed to the bar near the apartment. You wanna come?”

Normally you turned down the invitations Steve extended you, knowing Javi’s nicer attitude probably only extended to working hours only, but you were so desperate to have an excuse to leave that you nod quickly, standing up and sliding on your coat.

“Let’s go. Murphy, you’re buying the first round,” you tell him as you pass by out of the office.

You can hear his laugh behind you as you walk through the empty building, hoping you didn’t just make a mistake.

---

They’re not far behind you but you’re already a drink in when they walk through the front door, Steve finding you tucked in a booth in the back corner already with an empty beer bottle on the table while you’re nursing your second.

“I started a tab in your name, Murphy,” you explain with a grin as a waitress comes by and takes their orders.

Steve grimaces but nods, taking it in stride. “Should’ve figured.”

Conversation is light and superficial and you can tell Steve is working to keep things peaceful and on neutral ground. Javi’s mostly one worded answers are almost worse than the snide remarks from before and you have to take measured breaths not to say anything, for your sake and honestly, Steve’s too.

“Can you let me out? I need to piss,” he asks you and you stand up to let him out, sliding back into the booth and taking Steve’s spot so he can just sit down when he comes back.

It’s silent between you and Javier for a moment, the loud noises of the tv and the bar crowd filling the space until he glances over at you with a curious gaze.

“Did you ever wonder?” He asks without context, sipping at his beer.

You’re taken aback by his question, tilting your head as you try to think of what he might possibly be talking about. “Wonder what?”

“All those nights where you could hear me through the walls. Did you ever wonder what I was doing?”

You almost want to laugh at his question. The fact that he’d been holding on to certain parts of your outburst for months has pride blooming in your chest.

“No, not really,” you tell him easily. “It was pretty easy to just make my own assumptions.

“And what did you assume?”

“That either they were faking it for your sake or you’re actually as good as they say around the Embassy.”

Javier smirks behind his beer and nods, licking his lips to chase the beer that dropped.

“Oh, I’m better than they say,” he promises.

“Prove it.”

You swallow thickly, wondering if you’ve just backed yourself into a corner when Steve comes back, launching into some tangent about Noonan and a new policy she’s putting through. His voice goes in one ear and out the other as you try to focus on anything other than the man to your left. You know Javier will make good on his promise when you feel his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze and you breathe slowly, turning towards Steve with a smile.

“Yeah, agreed. She’s such a hard ass.”

---

You and Javi burst through your apartment door hours later and you silently thank whatever deity there is that Steve lives upstairs and is already home, your moans loud and carrying throughout the lobby before Javi can shut the door behind you.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the first day I saw you,” he admits, tugging at your shirt and undoing a few buttons in his haste to get you naked. His hands are everywhere once your top is pulled down your arms and you feel like you’re burning, the rough calluses on his fingertips creating a delicious drag across your skin.

It’s almost surprising to hear him say he’s thought about you in any context, let alone this one, but you mask your expression and cry out as his mouth finds your shoulder and bites down, sucking so hard you know you’ll be bruised come morning.

“And what did you think about?” You shoot back, arching your chest against his.

The yellow button down he’s wearing is your current nemesis as you fumble your way across the buttons and finally just yank it open at the neck, buttons scattering across the hardwood floors.

Javier grunts at the motion, moving his mouth down your chest, fingers finding the clasp of your bra and pinching it open until the material falls slack on your chest.

“Thought about how loud I can get you to scream my name,” he mumbles, leaning down to capture your left nipple between his lips while his fingers find the right and start pinching in tandem with the work of his mouth.

It’s been months since anyone has touched you other than yourself.

You’d made a promise to yourself before moving down to Colombia that your job was going to be your first and only priority. Work hadn’t leant itself well to finding randoms to sleep with anyhow, mostly keeping to yourself and the few friends you’d made around the Embassy that you’d grab lunch or coffee with in the very little spare time you did have-- so having Javier’s full attention on you, your body, was intoxicating.

“Is that a challenge?” You manage to get out, weaving a hand through his dark hair and tugging him away from your chest, angling his head to look up at you.

His eyes are blown wide, practically black and his hair is a mess but he’s never looked so fucking hot and you hate it.

Javi doesn’t answer your question, just moves up to slot his mouth against yours.

The kiss is angry. Teeth clashing, lip biting, angry. Even his hands feel angry as he tears off your clothes, leaving you naked before him.

Your chest is heaving as you try and catch your breath once Javier pulls away and you place a hand on his chest, making him take steps backward. “My room is back there,” you nod, pulling him in for another quick kiss and pushing him away.

Javier grabs you around the waist, pressing your naked chest to his own and noses against your ear as you both walk blindly towards your room. “I bet I can get you to scream my name so loud even Murphy’ll hear,” he tells you, dragging his nose up the side of your neck and latching his lips on the lobe of your ear.

His challenge makes you laugh and you roll your eyes before walking into your room and laying down on the mattress, crooking a finger towards him.

“Then fucking prove it.”

Javier’s on you in an instant, pushing your legs apart to settle between them. His mouth nips around your stomach, your thighs. Little love bites that you know will serve as a reminder of what a shit head he is, like he’s claiming his territory.

If they didn’t feel so good you’d push him away and tell him to get on with it but his mouth is so warm that you don’t care. Suddenly, you really don’t care that Javier Peña is the biggest fucking pain in your ass so long as he puts his mouth to good use.

His head moves lower and you can feel his hot breath on your pussy, his fingers sliding between the lips and exposing your heat to the cool air. Once his mouth makes contact with your clit, his name slips from your mouth quietly, “Javier.”

“Louder,” he tells you from between your legs while he drags a finger through your slick.

“Don’t get cocky, you-,” you start to warn him, going to kick him in his side until he slides two thick, longer fingers inside of you without warning and your leg goes straight, your head pushing back into the plush pillow behind you and you cry out his name at the feeling of being stretched.

Nothing is comparable to this feeling, no matter how hard you’ve tried and at that moment, you’d sing Javier’s name if he asked you to so long as he didn’t stop.

“More, please,” you whimper. Your eyes are screwed tight and you clutch the pillow behind you in a death grip.

“What was that?” Javi’s tone is smug and you take a breath, willing yourself to just submit to him.

“Please, Javi. More,” you tell him louder this time, voice strained.

He seems to like the sound of that, a third finger sliding home inside of you and you clench around his digits as he starts a steady pace, thrusting them slow and powerful.

The sounds that fill the air are pure filth. The wetness seeping out of you is coating the inside of your thighs and you’re sure you’re dripping onto the blankets beneath you. Javi’s tongue laps at your clit, bringing it into his mouth and sucking harshly.

That feeling is what brings you over the edge. Your body ascends and crashes in the same second and you take a shuddering breath as your cunt pulses long and hard around Javier’s fingers as you cum. Your whole body is buzzing like a live wire, your toes numb.

“What the fuck,” you groan, chest heaving.

“Never doubt me, Agent,” his tone smug.

“Shut the fuck up, Peña.” You push at his head and he laughs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

Javier’s lips trail up your thigh, across your hip and up to your chest where he finally lands on your lips. The kiss is the sweetest it’s been all night and you relish in the languidness of it, the way his tongue sweeps across yours and licks into your mouth like he knows what you want. What you crave.

His cock, hard and rigid, bumps against your hip as he moves and seeks friction, so you slide a hand down his chest to grasp the thickness of him. “Fuck me, Javi,” you whisper as he peppers kisses across your throat and groans when you squeeze him tight. “Prove to me that you’re just as good of a lay as everyone says.”

Your words seem to kick him into gear and he shuffles back away from your touch, leaning back on his legs while he sits between your thighs and takes his cock in hand. His other opens the lips of your pussy and he moves forward just enough to tap the head of his dick against your clit.

“Just fuck me Javi for fucks sake,” you whimper, still sensitive from your previous orgasm and you just want him inside. The teasing was unnecessary but wholly Javier and you curse again when he slowly starts to slide the head of his cock down until it notches against your entrance.

Javier moves slow once he’s fully sheathed inside of you and it’s the best and worst thing to happen to you, you’re sure. The feeling of finally being filled is worth the wait but the way he does it is infuriating because he knows just how good it feels. Javier slides a hand to your shoulder and fixes his dark gaze with your own and it’s over from there.

His pace is like nothing you’ve endured before. The push and pull of Javier’s hips hitting into yours is loud in the otherwise quiet room, the wetness between your thighs now coating his own. He’s sweating as he moves, grunts spilling from his lips, “Fuck your pussy feels so good around me.”

Normally you’d snark out a response but words are hard to form with the way he’s working you over. His cock fits you like a glove, hitting all of the right spots and playing your body like a well tuned instrument. It’s just missing something.

Your hand that was clutching the comforter beside you reaches out to grasp his forearm that’s on your shoulder and you slowly move his hand until it’s cupping your throat. Javier’s pace falters at your movement and he just stares you down, a curious look pointed at you.

You’d overheard at work it was something Javi was into, some water cooler chat you’d walked into only a few weeks prior. One of the CIA girls had been retelling her hook-up story with Javi from months ago to a new hire and they were all eating it up. While you had only passed them by, not managing to hear more details, you still decided to file that information away for later-- a bit surprised that you had something else in common with him after all.

“Two taps if it’s too much,” you tell him, tapping on his arm so he understands and he nods.

Javier’s hand slightly grips your neck, his thumb pressing in on the side and the pressure is delicious and you clench hard around his cock at the feeling.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groans out, his hips slowly starting to move again until he finds a rhythm.

His hand doesn’t do much more than lightly press against you but it’s enough. It feels safe, warm around your neck and you know Javier would never hurt you, the unexplained trust of having him as your partner translating now to the bedroom.

You both work in tandem, his hips pushing in and you chasing his as he pulls out only to slide back in. It’s probably the best you two have ever worked together and it’s irony at its finest.

Javier tilts your head back, baring the full length of your throat to him, his thumb tracing along your jaw and you cry out once he hits that spot inside of you that makes your limbs go numb in pleasure. He drags your bottom lip down and you suck his thumb between your lips, lightly scraping your teeth around the digit. He abandons your neck then, using his now wet thumb to press against your clit and that feeling coupled with his thrusts sends you over the precipere, your body baring down and clenching tightly around his cock as you cum.

Your whole body is shuddering, your mouth open as you try and find your breath as Javier continues to pound into you in search of his own release. He finds it just a minute after your own, his mouth dropping to your neck as he groans, hips stuttering as he pulses his release inside of you.

Careful not to just collapse on top of you, Javier rolls to the side and lets out a long breath before turning to you, eyes searching.

“If you’re looking for some sort of regret, you’re not gonna find it Peña,” you tell him, reaching over into your nightstand to find your emergency pack of cigarettes. You offer him the pack but he waves you off, swinging his legs off the side of the bed to stand up while you light up.

You watch as Javier moves around your room, slowly dressing himself. Jeans zipped back up and he’s left shirtless, his top somewhere in your living room missing half of its buttons.

“You want a shirt?”

He nods, “Yeah, that’d be good. Forgot you fucking ruined mine.”

Laughing, you stand and move around Javier to reach into your dresser and pull out a plain white shirt that you normally saved for laundry days. You toss it over to him and lean against your dresser, pulling a drag from the cigarette while you watch him tug it on. The shirt is a little too tight around the chest but it looks good on him and you’re almost sad to see him go. Almost.

“So I’ll see you in the office on Monday?” You ask, putting your half smoked cigarette out on the windowsill and leave it there, making your way out into the kitchen. Javier follows and tugs his boots on, shoving his socks into the pockets of his jeans and he nods.

You’re almost glad that Javier is the first person you’ve slept with while you’re here. He’s not expecting anything more than you are and despite the fact that you two work together, you don’t see any issues coming forward about your night together unless he wants to do it again. The prospect is nice and you pour yourself a glass of water, sipping as you watch him turn to leave.

“Yeah, Monday.” He gives you a salute and a wink. “I’ll see ya, Agent.”

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[koskareevesismyqueen]

Reunited at last

Pairing: Din Djarin x afab!reader

Word count: 2.8k

Rating: explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: oral sex (f&m receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex, breath play. Please be safe!

Summary: you were trying to get over ‘beskar boy’. That is until he walks into your local cantina and you’re reunited at last.

Author’s note: this fic has been written as part of the SL+ fic exchange for the amazing @louderrthanthunderr​! I hope you enjoy having some Din time my love ♡

This, this was the way you enjoyed spending your evenings. Leaving work, coming straight to the cantina and spending an evening laughing and joking with your girlfriends. Talking about stupid shit, about the latest work gossip and who everyone had been hooking up with or at least talking to. You had no ulterior motive, no not at all. Not a beskar clad motive.

You shake your head, as if that’s really going to get rid of your thoughts, and take another sip of the non-descript, bitter clear liquid in front of you. You try to keep your face neutral, not allowing yourself to wince as the liquid burns the back of your throat.

“Well,” one of your friends asks as she looks at you from across the sticky, glass strewn table as she gives you a light kick in the shin with the toe of her boot.

“Huh,” you say as you meet her eyes, puzzled. You had definitely zoned out for way too long.

“Anything happened since beskar boy?”

You screw your face up, hating that you can’t refer to him by his real name when you’re chatting with your friends. You had insisted that they at least called him Mando, but beskar boy had stuck and you hadn’t changed their minds since.

“I told you, since the last time he was here I haven’t spoken to him. Anyway,” you say with the most faked nonchalant shrug you can muster, “I’ve forgotten about him.”

The table erupts into laughter and you roll your eyes in response.

“Forgotten about him? Really? Okay then, who have you forgotten about him with?”

Defeated, you let out an exasperated sigh.

“Right, I’m going to the ‘fresher. Don’t cause any trouble while I’m gone.” You wiggle your way out of the booth, glad you sat on the end, and squeeze your way through the gaps in the crowd surrounding the bar until you find yourself in the ‘fresher. Grateful for a break away from ‘beskar boy’ drama, you muse your hair, adjusting it so it sits just right. You reapply your lipstick, adjust your outfit then make your way back out.

You walk right past the bar, glad that there’s more of a path cleared for you than there had been on the way in, then slide back into the booth. Your table is uncharacteristically, no, scarily quiet.

“What?” You ask as you pull a face, suddenly feeling anxiety rising through your chest.

“Uh, did you fail to notice anything…different?”

“What, apart from you lot all acting like the mythical Luke Skywalker just walked in, no. I have no idea what’s going on.”

Your friend gently pokes her index finger into your cheek, forcing you to turn your head around towards the bar. You immediately snap your head back round, heart racing.

“Kriff,” you hiss, “has he noticed me?”

“What, going cold feet on beskar boy are you now? Go. Go and talk to him.”

You fidget nervously, the lines on the palms of your hands suddenly the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. You can’t avoid him forever because he’s bound to see you at some point, then he’s either going to be hurt you ignored him and continue with his day or he’ll come and talk to you. At least if you go over, you’re in control. With a last deep, shaky breath you stand up. You smooth the creases out of your outfit and then stride over to the bar. You pull yourself up onto a bar stool a couple of meters to the right of Din and order your drink – something much less alcoholic. A little liquid luck had been necessary for you to get the confidence to come over by you absolutely didn’t want to have too much and embarrass yourself.

“Well well well,” you say with a smirk, the product of your false confidence, as you stir the drink the bartender had places in front of you, “I’d say look what the little green womp rat dragged in but I can’t see the tiny tyke anywhere?”

You almost hear the pain in Din’s next breath, despite the way you know he’s controlling it.

“He’s…gone to join other’s like his kind.”

You feel the way your eyes widen. “There’s a whole planet full of those little green aliens?” Half a question, half an exclamation. Din lets out a deep, soft chuckle in response and you feel the way your body quivers in retaliation.

“No. Other jedi. He’s gone off to train.”

You nod in response and place a hand on Din’s arm rubbing small, smoothing circles into the small space between his armour. You wonder if he feels the electricity run through him at the touch, despite how mundane and unsuggestive it is.

“I’m sorry, Din,” you say lightly, trying to read his emotions without much to go off. “I’m here if you need me.”

He turns to look at you and imagine the way his eyes look right into yours. “Actually, I’m really glad you’re here. I’ve been needing a distraction.”

“Oh?” You ask, suddenly realising that you’re shaking. Kriff, are you really this nervous to see him again?

“That’s if you’re up for it of course, Mesh’la?” You nod your head and Din wraps his fingers in yours, a strangely comforting gesture despite the barrier his gloves provide. He pulls you out of the cantina and you try your hardest to match your strides to him, but he’s taller than you and a trained warrior so it’s hard but you try your best anyway. He takes a sharp right out of the cantina and pulls you after him, taking the time to pull you in a little closer now. You’re never going to look like a perfect couple walking down the street with Din – him half dragging you after him as he rushes back to the Crest because he’s so desperate to fuck you is about as romantic as it gets.

Relief floods through you, alongside a fresh surge of heat, when you realise the Crest isn’t parked that far away. The ramp opens with a soft hiss of the hydraulics and closes the same way after Din pulls you in behind him. After the soft thud signifying the latches locking into place sounds, Din pulls you into him. You feel the way your breasts press between you against the hard layer of beskar, your nipples hardening at the thought of everything below his armour. He slowly pulls his right glove off then cups your cheek with his hand. You feel the way he strokes his thumb over your cheekbone and for a second you allow yourself to melt into his touch before he softly pulls his hand away.

You watch as Din slowly begins pulling off the pieces of beskar, undoing latches and buckles. He places them in a neat pile and the care he shows for them is obvious. He leaves his helmet and flight suit on, but the growing bulge is obvious and practically makes you drool. You close your eyes for a few moments as the familiar clunk of his boots over the metal floor clunk towards you, only opening your eyes when you can hear that he’s a few strides away. He pulls you back in close, the skin on skin contact so close it almost hurts, and wraps his hand through your hair. He pulls slightly, causing your head to tip back and he brings his head into the curve of your neck, his vocoder hovering next to your ear.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” He whispers, and you feel the way you clench in response, the dampness between your legs spreading. You nod your head, biting your lip to hold everything you want to say in.

Din steps away and you keep your eyes fixed on his visor. “Stand there. Don’t move. Watch me.” And you do. You watch as Din steps away and moves towards the little rickety bed. He sits down, then shifts his flight suit so that his cock springs free. In that moment you want to move, walk towards him, wrap your hand around it. Instead you bite your lip harder because you know you can’t move. You have to stay still.

You watch as he wraps his hand around himself, a bead of precum leaking from the tip as he anticipates everything. He slowly starts rubbing his hand up and down his length, occasionally pausing to gather the precum from his tip with his thumb, swirling it around to lubricate himself. You watch, as patiently as possible, but it grows harder and harder by the second. You feel the wetness between your legs, the way you feel yourself clenching at every slight movement. Din’s visor is fixed on your, your reaction, as you fidget around in an attempt to find some sort of friction.

“What did I say?” Din growls but you can’t help it now. You need to feel something, whether it’s Din or yourself. You start moving your hand and Din is there in a flash, thigh between your legs as grabs your hands, holding them aloft. You struggle a little but it’s all in good faith.

“I can be a good girl, Din. Let me show you,” you bat your eyelashes at him and bite down gently on your lip. Din doesn’t necessarily need a big show, but it doesn’t hurt to give one. You watch as his helmet gently tips, giving you the confirmation you needed, and you lunge at him claws practically outstretched. You kneel down on the floor between his legs – knees padded with a rough blanket he gives you – then wrap your hand around him. He looks big compared to your hand. You grip him tightly and begin moving your hand up and down, thumb pausing and smoothing over his head as you gather the slowly leaking precum, before you repeat the movement. You look up at him one last time, imagining the way his eyes – brown, you think – are hooded beneath his helmet as he looks down at you full of lust. You slowly dip your head down, opening your mouth to allow yourself to take his length. After a few moments you begin moving your head up and down, tongue swirling over him, hand gripping his base as you hollow your cheeks. You keep it up for a while, your other hand gripping the outside of his thigh, revelling in the way the normally quiet Din Djarin is slowly getting louder as he lets out a series of groans and moans. But eventually, he brings his hand to the back of your neck and slowly pulls you away. You release him from your mouth with a soft pop and look up unexpectedly, a mixture of drool and precum covering your chin. Din gently wipes it away and you try not to melt back into his touch.

“Enough,” he whispers softly, the deep bass of his voice echoing through the vocoder, “on the bed.”

He shifts himself out of the way and you take his place. You watch as he makes his way across the Crest, opening a draw and rifling through until he pulls out a couple of items. The first is the familiar blindfold that Din always puts on you when you’re together. He knots it at the back of your head, checking to make sure it’ll stay in place but also isn’t hurting you, then runs the tips of his fingers down your arm leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You let out a slight shiver, the beginnings of ecstasy starting to course through you.

The soft clink of metal on metal sounds out throughout the room and you realise that Din has taken his helmet off. He picks up your hands, holding them carefully in his, then softly runs his lips over your knuckles. You feel his soft breaths and rough stubble against your skin, a stark contrast to anything you have felt for a long time.

He parts your legs with his hands, a firm push, then you feel him shift into position. It shocks you a little when he buries his head between your legs like a man starved but the shock is good. Stars, when was the last time you had felt something this good? Not since you had seen Din last, months ago. He laps out you, long strokes of his tongue lapping among your folds, tongue diving into your core then focussing on your clit. Your head tips back in ecstasy as your mouth litters out a series of moans and curses of kriff and stars. You had forgotten how good it feels as the pressure builds and you feel the wave of your orgasm building and rolling over, your body suddenly becoming ultrasensitive as Din continues to lap at you as your hips buck and writhe beneath him.

He continues, only slightly pausing to adjust his position. He uses one hand to pin you down over your hips and you feel the sheets shift as he reaches his other hand out, grasping around, followed by a soft and familiar buzz.

Stars.

The moment Din pushes the vibrator to your already oversensitive clit your hips buck, their movements more frenzied and jagged than before. He continues dipping his tongue in and out of you as he moves the vibrator around in small circles on your clit and its not long before you’re crying out as the second orgasm washes over you. This time, Din pulls away although you note that you can still hear the muffled vibrations. Your lungs take quick breaths in and out as you take the brief moment of respite before the next part that you know is coming.

Din picks you up and pushes you further up the bed so that he can lie on top of you. You feel the warmth of his body weight, the soft tickle of his chest hair and the thin layer of sweat between you. He brings his lips down onto yours, the kiss soft and sweet to start with but he soon pushes his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss and pulling the both of you closer together. His hand trails over your curves and you arch your back, shifting towards his hand.

“Are you ready, mesh’la?” He whispers against your ear, his voice still gruff but softer without the vocoder altering it. You nod your head, a little pathetically as you feel the head of his cock teasing against your opening. You buck your hips up slightly to meet him, reaching down with your hand to spread yourself open as he steadily pushes into you. His mouth reaches down to your neck, kissing and sucking along your collar bone as he begins slowly thrusting his hips into yours. Ecstasy and pleasure course through your veins as he hits your G-spot with every thrust, making you cry out every time.

The two of you begin to settle into a steady rhythm, hips meeting thrust for thrust, breathy moans and gasps against each others skin. But just as it becomes familiar, Din grabs you around your waist and flips you over, bringing himself up so he’s leaning back on his lower legs with you sat on top of him, one hand reaching round press the vibrator onto your clit again and the other snaking around your neck applying light pressure. Your moans becomes faster and louder, slightly constrained beneath his grip as he pushes deeper and deeper into you, the feeling of him bottoming out making you see begin to see stars.

“Din,” you whisper hoarsely, “I-I’m going to c-c.”

“When you’re ready, sweet girl,” he whispers back before you feel his teeth grazing your earlobe.

Your vision goes white as the final wave of your orgasm hits, your walls squeezing around Din as his thrusts stutter inside you. The two of you sit for a few moments, his arms wrapped around your middle holding you close.

“I should go and clean up,” you say lightly as you slowly extract yourself from his grip. By the time you come back out of the ‘fresher, Din’s helmet is back on which at least means you can take off your blindfold. You stand at the door, looking down at the blindfold which is now in your hands, unsure of your next move. For a second, you’re thrown back to being in the cantina, unsure if you’re going to see Din again. But now you’re here, naked on his ship. Even though you’ve seen him again, you’re not sure if and what this means for the future. But for now, Din is lying on his uneven mattress, arms open and waiting for you.

Yeah, the future is uncertain. But you can at least make the most of the next few moments in Din’s arms, reunited at last.

♡♡♡♡♡