#that diverted from Din

[merrysithmas]

Alright im going public with my bad opinion explanation: I hate the adoption scene because in order for it to make sense you have to ignore almost everything that the previous seasons were doing.

First, foundlings are not orphans, JON.

Foundlings are literally just children adopted by Mandalorian warriors. Something Din had made clear, he repeatedly calls Grogu a foundling and the only one who would have adopted him is Din himself. So they got that totally wrong, they do not understand how foundlings work or what they are.

Second, Din has not struggled to accept he is a father. He struggled to let himself refer to himself as a father because he has always been afraid of losing Grogu. Season 1 he isn't afraid of being his father but he doesn't let himself call Grogu his son or himself his father because hes scared he is going to lose Grogu because theyre always on the run from those hunting for Grogu.

Season 2 he is even more seeing himself as his father but he now is scared to call himself that beacuse he thinks hes losing Grogu forever to the Jedi.

Its never been Din has to learn to see himself as a father its been Din was too scared of losing Grogu so soon after calling himself as such. Season 3 he has NO reason to not already fully consider Grogu his own son.

ALSO ALSO ALSO

So theres a direct comparison to tlou here. The end of the show/game, you have Joel fully cementing himself as Ellies father by going against all odds to save her life.

Episode 3 of season 1 is that story for Din. His first interaction was to murder the droid with him and hold out a gentle finger to this baby. He is a true Mandalorian. This child is alone and needs someone to protect him. He knows what this means he knows Grogu is his foundling when he does this. Foundlings for this covert are so important.

Episode 3 has Din struggle to accept handing him over and even as hes still doing so you see his regret. He goes back for Grogu and fights to the point where he is looking at a bundled barley awake Grogu thinking they both might die here. But he looks at him knowing it was worth it.

THAT to me is Din accepting fatherhood. That is Din willing to die for the baby he considers like his own.

Ahsoka literally tells him Grogu sees him as his father and Din doesn't ever refute or question her about such a title. Cara calls Grogu his kid and Mayfield instantly knows his kid is "the little green guy".

Its insane to me that season 3 literally starts with Bo calling Din "your dad" but for the REST OF THE SEASON we downgrade to words like ward or apprentice. Even in the goddamn adoption scene he still is called an apprentice. Season 3 just pretends Din doesn't accept he is already Grogus father when we had 2 seasons showing us that he did see Grogu as his son.

But fear of losing him made him to scared to voice such a thing outloud and by the time Grogu goes with Luke he regrets not saying it earlier.

Never in a million years do I believe season 1 and 2 Din would think he has to "adopt" Grogu formally to consider himself Grogus father. He always has. That was what made Din special in this genre.

He didn't spend the story growing to see himself as a father. He was as Grogus father from minute one and decided he unquestioningly was by episode 3. His story isnt accepting fatherhood its about overcoming the obstacles that would thus take his son from him and the fear of voicing it outloud because of it.

Season 3 pulls so much nonsense by showing Paz with what is clearly a newer foundling that he sees as his son. And then has the audacity to say that it took until the end of 3 seasons for Din to come to the same conclusion about his own foundling.

Dins always been Grogus father, he's always seen himself as such and thats what made their bond so special.

Also again, JON. Foundlings do not stop being foundlings. They are always a foundling because a foundling literally is a child adopted by Mandalorians. Jango didn't stop being a foundling because he was adopted by Jaster. No being adopted is what MADE him a foundling.

Like, just no understanding from Jon or Dave about why everyone but Din called them father and son. And no understanding of what Mandalorian foundling culture even fucking is. Formal adoption doesn't exist like that beacuse thats dumb. You take in a child, and you ARE their parent. Thats it.

It's not the biggest or most egregious fuck up of the season, but it makes me mad because now I have to pretend that THIS was the moment Din fully accepted fatherhood. Not when Grogu was cradled in his arms as they were surrounded about to die, but maybe it was okay because at least he did everything he could to save his child and they would be together.

So yeah. Thats why I hate the one scene everyone in the fandom apparently adores, whoops ✌

Ooh good point! I didn't see this in my ask box. Yes this is just another thing to add to the Fuckery of season 3. I did think it was incredibly odd for Din to have to publically adopt Grogu after he was already a foundling and Din was already OBVIOUSLY his caretaker and parent figure. They also totally ignored the traditional Mandalorian adoption ritual in Mando'a - the Gai bal manda.

Also the Armorer literally tells Din to his face he is "as Grogu's father" until he comes of age or is returned to the Jedi in TBOBF (the last time the Armorer was a character and not a Faux Katan plot device lackey RIP). So that ends the necessity yet again of that scene and proves it was only added to spoon feed the GA who didnt watch TBOBF.

But it goes to show in this season of alleged exploration of MANDO LORE AND CULTURE we yet again got absolutely nothing, confusion, doubling back, and bullshit plain and simple.

[sun-kissy]

🧣 james potter, or poly!marauders, whatever you prefer really + “can’t believe it took a near-death experience for you to let me hug you" with reader who doesn't really enjoy physical touch... and maybe they aren't really lovers YET. btw, i love your account! 💞

thank you for the request, and the love! 🥰🫶 here’s your scarf lovely🧣

hailstorm | j.p.

— “Can’t believe it took a near-death experience for you to let me hug you.”

james potter x reader

summary: you’re on a roadtrip with your friends when a hailstorm strikes, and james protects you

tw: fluff, reader who doesn’t really like physical touch at first, there’s a lot of a grumpy x sunshine trope going on here, since you said james or poly!marauders i decided to include the marauders + lily (platonic) for fun haha

“Potter! Get your filthy hands off me.”

“Okay, jeez,” James chuckles, sliding his arm off your shoulder. You shoot him with a glare you hoped conveyed every bit of your distaste.

“Yeah, Potter, get your hands off — ow!” Sirius snickers and flinches away when you reach forward to smack him. Remus sighs exasperatedly from across the console, fingers idly drumming on the steering wheel.

Lily gives James a look from beside you. “Leave her be, James. And you —“ she turns towards Sirius in the front seat, “shut up and let your boyfriend drive.”

You shrink into yourself, wondering which part of you was sane when you made the decision to go on a road trip with these maniacs. That too, in the middle of winter.

The snowy mountaintops did make for a pretty view, though. The white flakes continued to fall around you, and you were sure you could catch them in the palm of your hand if you were to slide the windows down. The only problem was that you were seated in between James and Lily — no windows in reach.

“ — but the map is telling us to go left!”

“You’re looking at it upside down.”

“Am not!”

“Just —“ Remus exhales, rubbing his forehead. “There’s a reason why I’m driving, James. Just trust me.”

James opens his mouth to argue but decides against it. He crosses his arms and sits back like a pouty baby, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like there’s also a reason why you’ve been driving for hours under his breath.

Sirius giggles at the comment, but no one else does. Most of you are in a sour mood considering how right James actually was — you’d been stuck in traffic and heavy snow for almost the entire day. On another note, you were just always in a sour mood.

There’s a terse silence that falls over the car. It’s broken by the sound of radio static, Sirius fiddling with some console buttons up front. A few shrill sounds pass before music starts to play.

There’s a starman waiting in the sky…

At first, the only voice that could be heard was that of the long-haired dramatic. But you could see him lean over to press a kiss to Remus’ cheek, who immediately softened. His gentle humming slowly grew louder.

Soon enough, you were the only one not singing along. James was boisterously loud from beside you, almost annoyingly so. His arm brushed against yours way too many times as he grooved.

You open your mouth to say something rude but he beats you to it.

“Come on, Y/n,” James almost shouts to be heard over the din. He’s grinning like a fool as he bumps your hip obnoxiously. “You’re not gonna sing?”

“No.”

“But —“

“No.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “What a wet blanket. You know, if you were just a little less grumpy —“

“Guys.” Remus’ soft humming is replaced by a panicked voice, breathless.

James ignores him. “— and smiled a bit more, you’d look a lot lovelier —“

“Guys!” Remus raises his voice, and the finality in his tone shuts everyone up. “There’s a hailstorm coming our way.”

You divert your attention to the windshield, eyes widening at the sight. There’s hailstones hurling downwards, closer and closer to the car. You feel anxiety start to thrum in your veins.

No one objects as Remus takes the reins. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he says calmly, cutting across lanes. The traffic gets crazier by the second, everyone scrambling to get to safety. “This is a highway; there’s nowhere to hide. But I’m gonna stop near that creek over there, so hopefully, it shields us from the worst of it.”

You all nod along helplessly. Lily’s biting down on her fingernails, knee jerking up and down. Sirius looks close to tears. James is frowning, staring straight ahead like he’s lost in thought.

“We may still get hit as the storm passes over us, though,” Remus emphasies as he pulls the car to a stop. “Brace yourselv —“

He’s cut short by said hailstorm. There’s collective sounds of panic as a loud thud sounds, the ceiling of the car bending downwards in a pathetic dent. You think maybe your heart stopped beating, and your limbs are paralysed in place.

You feel strong arms pulling you close as another stone hits the place where your head had been seconds ago. James. There’s nothing you can do but to scramble closer, letting him protect you with his arms around you and head on top of yours.

You stay there for what feels like forever. His breath tickles the top of your head, his musky scent all too enveloping. It’s hard to make out over the loud, crashing noises. But you think maybe he murmurs it’s okay more than a few times.

The storm passes over the car as quickly as it came. Remus peers out the window multiple times before telling everyone that it’s over, before he lets go of Sirius to press a kiss to his lips. Not you, though.

Relief seeps through you. But you hold on to James, face still buried in his chest as you cling impossibly tighter. You don’t know why; maybe it’s the lingering fear, or maybe it’s to show him how thankful you are.

He seems to realise your need for comfort, rubbing his hand up and down your spine. “You good?”

You make a noise of assent.

“Okay, good. I can’t believe it took a near-death experience for you to let me hug you,” he huffs out quietly. Your heart does a flip, and you’re glad he can’t see the smile on your face.

A little while later, the lot of you continue on your journey. This time, you let James loop his arm round your shoulder.

san’s christmas sleepover

[agirlnamedelia]

Hate Sex || Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

cw: cussing, begging, forced kiss at first, office sex, teasing plot: Y/n and the character are co-workers who can't keep bickering with one another. What happens when they are left at work--alone--with intense feelings of hatred(?) with each other.

The battlefield was chaos, smoke and debris clouding the air as you and Bakugou exchanged heated barbs while simultaneously dodging the villain's relentless attacks. Kirishima and Mina flanked the enemy, their movements precise and coordinated as they tried to subdue the hulking figure with glowing gauntlets.

"Watch your left, dumbass!" Bakugou barked, launching a fiery explosion at the villain to divert their attention.

"I don't need you telling me what to do!" you shot back, leaping to dodge a stray blast and firing your own attack in retaliation. The force sent the villain stumbling, but they quickly regained their footing.

"Could've fooled me with how sloppy you're moving!" he snarled, his voice cutting through the din of battle.

"Sloppy? At least I'm not blowing up half the city trying to show off!" you snapped, landing beside him just as another shockwave rippled through the area.

Kirishima's voice cut in, strained but still upbeat. "Guys, can we save the bickering for later? Focus on the giant dude trying to kill us!"

Mina slid into view, her acid sizzling as it hit the villain's armor. "Seriously, you two are like an old married couple! Can we please just work together for five minutes?"

"Tell that to Mr. Ego over here!" you said, pointing at Bakugou.

"Mr. Ego? I'm the only reason this fight isn't a total disaster!" he shot back, his palms sparking with another explosion.

The villain roared, cutting off your argument as they lunged forward. Kirishima hardened his body to block the attack, gritting his teeth as the impact sent him skidding back.

"Little help here!" he called out.

"On it!" you and Bakugou said in unison, momentarily setting aside your feud. You launched a coordinated attack, your combined power finally breaking through the villain's defenses. With a final, earth-shaking blow, the enemy collapsed, unconscious.

The dust settled, and the four of you stood there, catching your breath. Kirishima clapped a hand on your shoulder, grinning despite the exhaustion. "Nice teamwork, guys. Even with all the yelling."

Mina smirked, wiping sweat from her brow. "Yeah, you two might actually make a good duo if you stopped trying to kill each other."

"Not happening," you and Bakugou said at the same time, glaring at each other.

As emergency crews arrived to secure the area, Kirishima and Mina exchanged knowing looks. By the time you piled into the cramped SUV for the ride back to Bakugou's agency, the tension had shifted back to its usual, volatile state.

The engine rumbled softly beneath you, the faint hum filling the awkward silence that Kirishima and Mina desperately tried to maintain. You sat across from Bakugou in the cramped SUV, arms crossed, glaring daggers at the blond like it was a sport.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" you muttered under your breath.

Bakugou scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Coming from the person who tripped over their own feet mid-fight. Real rich, Y/n."

Kirishima groaned from the driver's seat. "Guys, can we not? It's been a long day."

Mina twisted in her seat to face both of you, a tired smile on her face. "Seriously, just five minutes of peace. Please."

You opened your mouth to fire back, but her pointed glare shut you up. You huffed, leaning back in your seat. Bakugou mimicked your pose, but not before shooting you a smug grin. You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out like a child. Barely.

The rest of the drive to Bakugou's agency was mercifully quiet. Kirishima pulled into the lot, and Mina clapped her hands together, an exaggerated cheerfulness in her tone.

"Alright! We're here. Time to split up duties," she said, hopping out of the car.

Bakugou raised an eyebrow, suspicious. "Split up duties? What the hell does that mean?"

Kirishima grinned sheepishly. "Uh, well, Mina and I have some... stuff to do."

"Stuff," Bakugou repeated, his tone flat.

Mina waved a dismissive hand. "You two can handle the paperwork, right? It's not like you're doing anything important."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "Paperwork? You're ditching us to do paperwork?"

"Think of it as bonding time," Kirishima said, already backing away toward the exit.

"You little—" Bakugou started, but the door slammed shut behind them. You both stood there, dumbfounded.

"Unbelievable," you muttered.

"Those assholes," Bakugou growled.

The fluorescent lights in the agency's office buzzed faintly as you sat at the desk, a stack of reports taunting you. Bakugou sat across from you, furiously scribbling notes on a file. His pen scratched loudly against the paper, grating on your nerves.

"Can you not?" you snapped.

"Can I not what?" he shot back, not looking up.

"Write like you're trying to murder the paper."

"Maybe if you did your part faster, I wouldn't have to pick up your slack," he said, finally meeting your glare.

"My slack? I've done more than you in half the time!"

He leaned back in his chair, smirking. "You call that chicken scratch 'work'? Pretty sure my two-year-old niece could do better."

"You don't have a niece."

"You don't know my life."

You groaned, slamming your pen down. "I can't believe I'm stuck here with you."

"Oh, trust me, the feeling's mutual," he said, leaning forward on his elbows. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, and for a second, the tension shifted. It wasn't the usual exasperation or anger—it was something heavier, more charged.

"If you stopped yapping for five seconds, maybe I'd actually get some peace," he added, standing up and walking around the desk toward you.

"Peace? You're the one who keeps starting shit!" you fired back, rising to meet him halfway. The distance between you closed rapidly as the argument escalated.

"You're impossible!" he snarled, his voice raising to match yours.

"Impossible? You're the one who can't go two seconds without throwing a tantrum!" you shot back, your voice now echoing through the quiet office.

"Tantrum? The hell do you think you're doing with all this whining? Just shut up and do the damn paperwork!" he snapped, slamming a hand on the desk for emphasis.

You stood abruptly, knocking your chair back. "I wouldn't have to whine if you weren't such a self-absorbed jerk who thinks everything revolves around him!"

Bakugou scoffed, stalking around the desk toward you. "Self-absorbed? At least I get shit done instead of sitting around crying about how hard everything is."

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, your face heating up. "You are so full of yourself it's a miracle you haven't floated away like a balloon!"

"Yeah? Well, you're so damn annoying it's a wonder anyone can stand to be around you!" he yelled, stepping closer.

"Oh, like you're a ray of sunshine to work with? Newsflash, Bakugou: your personality is toxic enough to melt steel!"

"Better toxic than useless!" he snarled, the gap between you now almost nonexistent. His crimson eyes blazed, and you could feel the heat radiating off him.

"Useless? I'll show you useless, you oversized firecracker—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Bakugou's lips crashed onto yours, cutting off your tirade mid-word. The kiss was fiery and demanding, just like him. His hands gripped the edge of the desk behind you, caging you in as his lips moved with a fervor that left you breathless.

Your mind short-circuited, the words you'd been ready to yell dying in your throat. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights and the pounding of your heart.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his eyes searching yours. "You talk too much," he muttered, his voice low and rough.

You blinked at him, still processing what had just happened. "You... you kissed me."

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his usual cockiness returning, though his flushed cheeks betrayed him.

You stared at him for a beat, your chest heaving as the tension hung thick in the air. "Don't you dare stop," you said, your voice barely above a whisper but full of conviction. Without giving him time to respond, you grabbed his collar and pulled him back down, crashing your lips onto his in another deep, searing kiss.

The kiss quickly turned desperate, both of you clinging to each other as though the world was slipping away. Bakugou's hands slid down to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. You stood up, leaning into him to deepen the kiss, your fingers threading through his wild blond hair. The motion tipped over the chair you'd been sitting on, but neither of you paid it any mind.

The edge of the desk dug into your back as Bakugou's lips moved feverishly against yours. Without breaking the kiss, he maneuvered you away from the desk, his hands never leaving your body. The two of you stumbled through the office, nearly knocking over a filing cabinet as you went. A muffled laugh escaped you as his lips left yours momentarily to nip at your jawline, the sound quickly replaced by a sharp intake of breath when he found a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

"Bakugou..." you murmured, your voice half a plea, half a challenge.

"What? Can't keep up?" he teased, though the roughness in his voice betrayed his own impatience.

You didn't dignify him with a response, instead pulling him back down into another heated kiss. His hands fumbled briefly behind you before finding the doorknob to his office. He shoved the door open with more force than necessary, practically dragging you inside.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, the urgency escalated. Bakugou's hands moved to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up and over your head in one swift motion. You followed suit, your fingers working hastily to unfasten the straps of his hero gear and toss it aside. His shirt followed quickly after, revealing the taut muscles of his chest, gleaming faintly under the dim office light.

Your hands roamed over his skin, tracing the scars and lines that told the story of his battles. He groaned at your touch, his lips finding yours again as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants. Every movement was hurried, each article of clothing discarded with reckless abandon, leaving a trail across the floor of his office.

By the time you were both standing bare before each other, the air between you crackled with tension and raw desire. His crimson eyes met yours, a mix of hunger and something deeper flashing in his gaze.

"You're sure about this?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft as his hands cupped your face.

You leaned into his touch, a small smile playing on your lips. "Shut up and fuck me, Bakugou."

His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Not so fast," he murmured, his tone laced with mischief. His hand slid down your side, gripping your hip as he pressed you back against the desk.

The heat between you grew unbearable as he positioned himself, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. His touch was deliberate, agonizingly slow as he moved just enough to drive you insane. Your breath hitched, and you gripped his arms, your nails digging into his skin.

"Katsuki," you gasped, your voice breaking with frustration.

He chuckled darkly, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with a mix of hunger and amusement. "Not gonna happen unless you ask nicely," he said, his voice a low growl.

You clenched your jaw, refusing to give in to his taunts, but the way he continued to tease you—just barely pushing, then pulling back—left you trembling. Your pride waged war with your desire, but the ache in your body was too much to bear.

"Please," you finally whispered, your voice cracking.

He tilted his head, pretending not to hear. "What was that? Didn't catch it."

Your grip tightened on his arms, your face flushed. "Please, Katsuki. I need you," you said, louder this time, the desperation evident in your tone.

His smirk widened, and he leaned in to kiss you, the motion firm and possessive. "That's better," he murmured against your lips, finally pushing into you with a slow, deliberate thrust.

His smirk only deepened as he leaned down, capturing your lips again in a searing kiss. The way his hips moved, slow and unrelenting, made you arch into him, desperate for more of the friction that he was so cruelly controlling.

"You're so needy," he teased, his voice rough against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Thought you were tougher than this, Y/n. Can't even handle a little waiting, huh?"

You let out a frustrated groan, the sound muffled against his shoulder as your nails raked down his back. He hissed at the sensation, his muscles tensing beneath your touch, but the devilish grin on his face never faltered.

"Katsuki," you whimpered, your voice trembling. "Stop... teasing me."

He chuckled, low and almost predatory, the vibration of it making your breath hitch. "Where's the fun in that?" he asked, his tone mockingly sweet as his teeth grazed along the curve of your neck. "You like it. Don't even try to deny it."

Your hands slid up to tangle in his hair, pulling slightly in retaliation, earning a sharp inhale from him. The smug look on his face faltered for just a second, and you seized the opportunity to push your hips up against his, drawing a strained groan from his lips.

"Oh, you wanna play like that?" he growled, his voice dripping with challenge. His grip on your hips tightened, and before you could reply, he rolled his hips with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. Your head fell back against the desk, a moan escaping your lips as he finally gave you what you'd been craving.

"That's more like it," he murmured, his tone laced with approval as he set a rhythm that had your head spinning. His movements were calculated, hitting all the right spots with precision that made your toes curl.

Your nails dug into his shoulders again, and you struggled to keep your voice steady as you said, "You... drive me crazy."

He leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a taunting kiss. "Good," he replied, his breath hot against your mouth. "I'd be disappointed if I didn't."

The heat between you grew more intense with every thrust, his name falling from your lips in breathless gasps. His hands roamed your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and the smug look on his face only grew as he watched you unravel beneath him.

"Look at you," he said, his voice rough with barely contained hunger. "Completely mine."

The possessiveness in his tone sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you met his gaze, your eyes half-lidded with desire. "Always," you whispered, the word barely audible over the sound of your ragged breathing.

His pace quickened, and the room filled with the sound of skin against skin, your moans mingling with his low groans. The pressure building inside you was almost unbearable, and you clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded.

"Katsuki," you gasped, your voice trembling with urgency. "I'm..."

"I know you're close," he said, his voice dropping into a cruel, teasing purr. "But you're not gonna get there until you beg for it."

Your breath hitched, frustration and need coiling tight in your chest. "Katsuki, please," you whimpered, but he shook his head, his grin all sharp edges.

"That's not good enough," he murmured, his hips still moving torturously slow. "I wanna hear you say it properly. Beg me, baby. Tell me exactly what you want."

The tension in your body was unbearable, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. "Please, Katsuki," you said, your voice breaking. "I need you. Please let me... please let me come."

For a moment, he only stared at you, his crimson eyes dark with something possessive and raw. Then his smirk softened, and he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a fleeting kiss. "That's my girl," he murmured.

Without warning, his pace quickened, and the sudden intensity made your head spin. The coil in your stomach snapped, and you cried out, your entire body shaking as pleasure tore through you. Katsuki followed seconds later, his growl low and guttural as he buried himself in you, his hold on your hips bruising.

The two of you stayed locked together, your heavy breaths mingling in the aftermath. His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear as he pressed his forehead to yours. "Was that so hard?" he asked, his tone still teasing but softer now.

You huffed, weakly swatting at his chest. "You're the worst."

He chuckled, leaning closer with a cocky smirk that made your blood boil. "Yeah, but admit it," he said, his voice low and teasing. "You love the way I make you beg."

Your mouth opened to retort, but the intensity in his gaze froze the words on your tongue. Instead, you scoffed, looking away to mask the heat rising to your face. "You're insufferable," you muttered, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

He tilted your chin back to meet his eyes, the smugness in his expression softening just slightly. "Maybe," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek in an uncharacteristically tender gesture. "But you can't deny the way you clenched so hard for me when I made you beg for it."

And as much as you wanted to argue, the truth lingered unspoken in the silence between you.

Hi hello! I hope you all enjoy this lil' smut of mine. If you want more of this, I actually have a Youtube channel where I create stories like this too.

CLICK HERE to check out my Youtube channel. (Also your sub will help a lot! Thank you. <3)

[skzdarlings]

the kingsguard ; jisung x reader ; part ii

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | tba | ao3 link

pairing: han jisung/reader summary: You are a queen. He is a kingsguard - a member of a holy order that vows to defend the king in the name of the gods. They forsake all earthly goods and swear a vow of chastity to avoid worldly temptation. When he stands in as proxy for the royal wedding, all those vows are tested.

content info: reader is described with curly hair.

content warnings: a royal affair between queen reader and guard jisung. the king is a violently abusive man and continually disrespects reader in this part. this chapter has an additional content warning for emetophobia.

word count: 5100 words.

<3

-

Morning dawns with a cool, clear light, but it fades as quickly, dissolving in the burning sunshine.  Every hand is at work, preparing the royal retinue for its return journey to the capital. 

You watch as the last of your trunks are loaded onto a wagon.  Each click and latch echoes inside you.  Your life is bound in iron. 

You walk to exert the worst of your nerves, fluttering inside you like a thousand frantic butterflies.  You lift your gaze to the sky and will those butterflies to carry you away, but then you see your family waving from a balcony. 

You cannot let them see your pain.  It is too late to do anything about the marriage, even if your parents expressed some regret for the arrangement.  That regret was tentatively posed to avoid treasonous speech but they were undoubtedly taken aback by the king’s poor behaviour.    

Your mother insisted on dressing you this morning.  She was teary-eyed so you faked your best and brightest smile.  There was no sense in you both suffering. 

The child in you wants to fling yourself at your family.  The woman you are, the queen you have become, forces a smile and waves back. 

You continue your walk.  Your mother dressed you finely but comfortably, a long, loose gown with flowing sleeves, your curly hair pinned in a twisting up-do, a flower behind your ear in lieu of a crown. 

There are courtiers milling about.  Some are travelling with the king’s party while others will divert course to visit their own lands.  Judgemental eyes trail the sweep of your hem across the earthen path.  You feign indifference as you weave in-and-out of the bustling bodies.

The courtyard has never been so busy.  The clamour of trunks, the stomping of horses, and the din of busy chatter blend into cacophony. 

Distantly, you hear a guitar.  

Han Jisung.  The first name you associate with music. 

You are flushed with embarrassment, remembering last night’s sorry return to your room.  Jisung escorted you back, a silent trek that agitated your frayed anxiety at the time.  In the light of day, you realize just how much he did for you.  You would not have survived the journey, at least not in one piece, and if anyone else had caught you, your life would have been equally forfeit. 

He committed an offense against the crown, a sin in his faith, one that would have demanded a great deal of reconciliation.  You have heard stories of kingsguards self-flagellating in the pursuit of forgiveness for even meagre transgressions.  The fact Jisung understood your betrayal, the fact he forgave it, the fact he saved you, is not insubstantial. 

You wonder who this man is, to wear the cloth but help his friend first, to keep secrets for a woman he hardly knew because he sympathized with her pain.  To have a sword at his hip and a song on his lips. 

You follow the guitar.  It leads you to the royal carriages and a circle of kingsguards in a hushed argument.  Jisung is playing a comically frantic tune while they debate. 

“What’s going on?” another kingsguard approaches.  It is the shorter, stocky one from the ceremony.  You learned the names of the other kingsguards at the evening festivities.  You recognize this one as Seo Changbin, an undoubted force of brute strength, striding up to his brethren with a hand on his sword hilt. 

“Felix disappeared,” Jisung trills, fingers dancing over the guitar strings, “and the kingsguard is afeared, because the king is not too dear—”

“What?” Changbin interrupts, looking at the others.  “Felix is gone?”

“Not just Felix,” a brown-haired guard, Lee Minho, says.  His brow is pinched.  “The king’s mistress is missing too.” 

Your eyes widen, your careful mask cracking under the assault of shock. 

The woman who ran off with Felix was the king’s mistress?   

It does not take much knowledge of the inner circle to deduce that does not bode well for anyone.  A kingsguard breaking his oath is one thing, a kingsguard running off with a woman is another still.

A kingsguard conducting an affair with the king’s mistress is a personal betrayal heaped on top of sin.  The only worse crime would be if he pursued the king’s wife. 

Jisung looks at you. 

He spots you across the crowd and strums a foul note, fingers clumsy with surprise.  The bad note draws attention to him so the other guards follow his line of sight.   They all straighten when they see you, their strong shoulders tense with anxiety.

Minho and Changbin immediately duck into a bow.  The other two, Kim Seungmin and Yang Jeongin, exchange a glance before following suit.  Hwang Hyunjin, the preposterously beautiful one, bows but not before he grimaces with discomfort at their conversation being overheard by the queen.

Jisung is still staring, his eyes darting from your face to the flower behind your ear.  He meets your eyes.  For a moment too long, he holds your gaze.  The events of the previous evening seem to play in the space between you, every panicked whisper and solemn glance.

Then he notices the rest are bowing.  With a yelp, he swings down into a bow too. 

You take a breath to steady your voice.  “What’s this about a missing person?” you ask. 

They straighten one by one, sharing uncertain looks.  Minho and Jisung have a mute conversation, Minho clenching his jaw and lifting his brows as if mutely scolding Jisung.  Jisung stares back with furrowed brows as if challenging it.

In the end, it’s the youngest one who speaks.  Jeongin is a shaggy-haired youth and his whole face is scrunched with worry. 

“A kingsguard is missing,” he blurts.  “But he’s not a bad guard!”  He frantically waves his hands.  “Really.  We don’t know what happened.  It’s not like him.  And the king’s mistress is missing too, but that doesn’t make sense.  No, it doesn’t make any sense at all.  Felix wouldn’t do that.  It’s not like Felix.  It’s really very strange, your Majesty.  We don’t understand, Your Majesty.  Your Majesty.”  He dips into a bow every time he utters your title.

Seungmin kicks him. 

“Stop talking, dummy,” Seungmin says out of the side of his mouth. 

“Right, I’m sorry,” Jeongin says, bowing again.  “We’re all very loyal.  We’re the kingsguard.  You know that. Of course you do.”

As if anyone would not recognize the cluster of black-robed soldiers, looking very austere among the courtiers and servants. 

You cast your gaze around the assembled soldiers, doing your utmost to avoid Jisung lest you betray too much secret knowledge. 

“There is no cause for concern,” Minho says, drawing your attention.  “Everyone is just… surprised.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin mutters.  “Surprised it wasn’t Hyunjin.”   

Hyunjin whips around to glare at him. 

“Excuse me,” Hyunjin says, catty in tone. “I let them look, but I don’t touch.”

“And what do they touch?” Seungmin teases. 

“Yah, knock it off,” Changbin says, waving them apart. 

“We’ll fix it,” Minho says to you.  “Have no concerns, your Majesty.”

You do not say that you are very concerned.  You worry the king’s attentions will return to you sooner than he threatened.  If that was his conduct when he had a mistress for pleasure, you are loathe to imagine how he might behave in her absence.    

But that is not an admittance you can make to the holy order sworn to enforce the will of the gods-blessed crown.

The king is wearing that crown as he storms over.  He is already ranting and raving, barking at the leader of kingsguard.  Chan follows him, hand on the hilt of his sword, stoic face not betraying a hint of anxiety.  He nods patiently at the king’s ranting. 

When they reach the guards, a single look from Chan compels them all to stand in formation and bow before the king.

“I want them found!” the king hollers.  “I want their heads on pikes outside my window!  And if I find any conspirators in this fucking plot—”   He shoves a passing servant.  “They too shall pay the price of treason.”   

The servant crawls into full obeisance, prostrate on the ground.  The king snarls and steps over him. 

“Sire,” Chan says curtly, a vague acknowledgement before he helps the servant up and sends him on his way. 

The king has already moved on, still ranting to himself as he storms across the courtyard.  He starts shouting about his wife, evidently missing you in the crowd.  You swallow down the choking terror in your throat and follow him. 

“If that whore ran off too—” He turns around and finally sees you. “It would have been preferable,” he says with a sneer.    

You say nothing.  You dip into a respectful bow and keep your eyes down.  It conceals both fear and frustration.  You hope it is interpreted as submissive.   

“It is not necessary we overindulge in company,” he says.  “You will ride in the carriage behind mine.  The kingsguard will surround us.  You will not bother them.  You will not be a grievance to me.  You will be quiet.  You will be obedient.  You will do as told and move only when bid.”  He does not wait for a reply, turning to look at the guards.  “We depart.  Now.  I want to leave this disgusting territory behind me.”

He spits.  It is just on the ground, a slight against the land, but it falls close to your feet.  It is abundantly obvious what he is actually spitting on. 

You take another steadying breath, staring at that spot on the ground.  When you find the strength to lift your gaze, the guards are staring at you.  Their expressions run the range of pity and irritation.  You suppose they would be offended by the king insulting you so outright.  Though his blood is divine by birthright, they believe the gods control the fates of men, so if you are queen it is because the gods will it so.  You have also been chosen by heaven and it is not appropriate for the king to conduct himself thusly. 

They are visibly disgruntled, Chan included, his brow furrowed as he stares after the king.  The shake of his head is nearly imperceptible.  You would have missed it if you were not looking at that precise moment. 

The king leaves an awkward silence in his retreat.  It is broken when Jisung strums a melodramatic chord on his guitar. 

Chan shoots him an unimpressed look.  Jisung giggles nervously.   

“Put it away,” Chan says.

“Heh, right,” Jisung says, spinning on his heel.  He putters towards his horse where he packs his guitar with his saddlebags. 

In spite of yourself, you feel the tug of a smile, very small but very real.  Your eyes follow Jisung until Chan steps forward, his hand over his heart as he bows politely.

“Your Majesty,” he says.  “I’ll escort you to the carriage.” 

You start to follow, casting a final glance back at your home.  When you do, you see something that draws you to halt.  Your heart pulls like a lead weight. 

“Your Majesty?” Chan says, tilting his head.  He holds out his hand. 

“I’m sorry,” you say.  It comes out on a breath.  You clear your throat but your voice is still shaking when you say, “Can you give me just one more moment?  I’ll be fast.”

His squints, perplexed, but he nods. 

You gather your skirts so you can run quickly over the courtyard bricks.  You hurry to the cluster of household servants who are gathered in a teary-eyed throng by the palace.   When they see you coming, they all rush forward.  You meet them halfway, throwing your arms around the woman directly in your path. 

You manage to restrain your tears, enveloped in the friendly embrace of the household that raised you.  You spent more time among these people than anyone else, always respectful of their important duties, cherishing their friendships as dearly as any noblesse. 

You know it is inappropriate for a queen to hug her servants one-by-one.  You suspect you will draw ire regardless so you hug and thank them, wiping a few teary faces as they wish you well. 

“You’ll come back and visit, right?” a little girl asks.  She is the daughter of a handmaiden your own age, a woman you consider a friend.  You spent many hours entertaining the little child, helping with chores, giving gifts, watching her grow. 

You crouch down to her level, holding back tears as you nod.  You know it’s not true, that the king will undoubtedly forbid it given his contempt for this place, but you say, “Of course I will.  This is my home.  I’d miss you all too much.”

“We’ll miss you too,” her mother says, hugging you next.  When she does, she slips something into your hand, a small phial of a dark liquid.  “Sleeping draft,” she whispers in your ear.  “For the nights the king needs his rest so you may have yours.” 

You laugh through your tears, kiss her temple, and a mouth a thank you as you withdraw.   You tuck the phial into a pocket pouch inside your gown. 

After a few more goodbyes, you stand before them and bow.  You offer a smile as they return it.  It carries a very different respect than the terrified cowering of the servant before the king. 

You are not the only one who thinks so.  When you turn, you find the guards all staring at you, their faces a wall of blinking surprise.  Jisung is the worst at hiding his thoughts, his brown eyes the widest.   Chan is the best, but even he cannot hide his contemplation.  

“I’m ready,” you say gently. 

You lift your hem and walk onward.  You do not look back.  You wait until the carriage door is closed behind you, then you bury your face in your hands and cry. 

-

Your sorrow passes, bleeding into frustration then fury.   Alone in the carriage, you have time to stew in this myriad of emotions as you deliberate on your circumstances.  You resolve to stand firm before the king, to not crumple beneath his cruel sneers, to bear his wickedness with grace.  You will make him ridiculous in comparison to your obvious virtue. 

This commitment falters very quickly. 

For the first hour of travel, you are passing through your family’s property then the village.  The roads are paved and the passage is smooth.  When you reach the forest path, it is a different matter entirely.  Though there is a road that cuts through the great woods, it is a trail of gravel and packed, uneven dirt.  The carriage jostles constantly, bouncing up and down at inconsistent intervals.

You last three hours.  By the end of that third hour, you are so queasy that the scarlet interior of the carriage turns to a murky green.  Your spotted vision swims through that grime even with your eyes closed.  You do everything you can to ease the discomfort, taking down your hair pin-by-pin until every curl is loose, even discarding the flower because its scent was too strong.  You sit in every possible position, craning towards the window and fresh air, but the nausea only worsens as the trail gets bumpier.  

You try to distract yourself, listening to the aimless chatter and laughter from the kingsguards.  Their horses trot along at an unhurried canter, far smoother than the carriage wheels jumping over rocks and earth. 

After a particularly violent jostle, you give up.  You are going to be sick and you would rather not do it in the carriage. 

“Excuse me,” you say, waving to the first guard you see.  Minho is not far from the window.  “I’m sorry but I need to stop.  Right now.”  You want to elaborate but your stomach rolls and your voice catches. 

You must look sufficiently ill because Minho clicks his boots and quickens his pace, riding up to Chan near the king’s carriage.  You slump against your seat while they have a quick discussion.

Chan lifts a hand and the whole train comes to a halt. 

You do not wait for them to open the door, bursting out of the carriage in a clumsy frenzy.  You run to the treeline where you fall to your knees and promptly empty the contents of your stomach. 

You feel hot and frantic, heaving as you struggle to hold your hair off your face.  Your lips quiver as another wave rises inside you. 

Someone jumps off their horse and lands beside you.  You spare a brief glance up at Minho.  His brow is pinched with concern.  You want to reassure him but then the king shouts out aggravations, so you throw yourself forward to vomit some more.

Minho helps, gathering you hair as best he can and holding it out of the way.  Hyunjin is the next closest soldier so he also dismounts and approaches. 

Vomiting is not exactly dignified.  It feels even worse to have every single person in the royal retinue watch you spew your breakfast over the forest floor.

You lift your head, turning to offer an apology but your voice is shot.  Minho still looms rather protectively, Hyunjin nearby.  You look around for Chan to address him, but your eyes find Jisung first.  He is the farthest away, perched on horseback, fidgeting with the reins.

The king shouts again.  It’s a block of noise to your ringing ears, but you suspect he is angry at the delay.  He told you not to be a grievance.

You try to stand but your knees wobble.  You use a rock for balance, then Minho when he takes your arm.   Hyunjin steps in and takes your other arm.  Together, they get you back on your feet. 

“I don’t think she can continue yet, sire,” Chan says, riding into view.  “Maybe we should rest here for a bit.”

“We are stopping to rest in an hour,” the king snaps.  “I will not be delayed so near to our schedule.”

“What made you sick?” Minho asks.

“The carriage,” you say.  You groan as you wipe your mouth.  You are certain you make a ravaged sight.  At least your stomach is empty now, the worst of the nausea passed, but you cannot imagine climbing back inside that rattling monstrosity.  

You step forward, away from Minho and Hyunjin.  Your legs quiver but you steady yourself. 

“I’ve never ridden a carriage so far,” you say.  “I’m very sorry, I am.  The terrain is just so uneven.  I’ve only ever ventured to the village and back.”  Even then, you travelled on horseback with company.  Sometimes you would sit on the back on a wagon or two, but it never went farther than the ends of the property. 

“Why doesn’t she travel on horseback?”  That sounds like Seungmin, speaking somewhere behind you. 

“Can you ride a horse?” Hyunjin asks, to which you nod emphatically. 

“It might be less intense at this pace,” Minho agrees. 

They look at Chan.  There is something significant about the fact every guard looks at Chan and not the king, but you are too unsettled to contemplate anything too deeply. 

Chan is the one who looks at the king, lifting a questioning brow. 

“There are no horses to spare,” the king says.  “If one of you wants to wrangle the brat, then take her.” 

Hyunjin promptly steps forward and offers his hand. 

“No,” the king says sharply.  “Not you.” 

Hyunjin steps back again.

The king, who is still in his carriage, cranes his neck to look around the gathered guards.  He snaps his fingers. 

“Bard boy,” he calls.  “Take the queen.”

“Jisung,” Chan says, waving him forward.  “Come here.” 

You look at Jisung who is visibly startled by his selection.  His black hair is windswept, the longer tufts curling up at his nape.  Wide, brown eyes find yours, slowly blinking to attention.  With a shake of his head, he picks up the reins and rides over to you.   

You step back, staring up at him on his perch.  He says nothing but extends his open hand, blinking those captivating eyes at you.  You are not sure why they ensnare you so, nor why your heart skips a beat when you delicately place your hand in his and his sword-calloused fingers grip yours tightly.  It is not like you to be flustered by a glance or touch. 

Minho and Hyunjin boost you, Minho holding your waist while Hyunjin guides you.  You seat yourself side-saddle in front of Jisung, ramrod straight so you are not pressed against him.  You do not look at his hands when his arms come around you to take the reins. 

Despite the king’s presumption, Hyunjin would be less distracting than Jisung.  The king simply sees what everyone else sees, that Hwang Hyunjin is startingly handsome for a kingsguard.  The black cloth does not diminish his elegance but exaggerates his devotion and competence, his appearance as intensely maintained.  His long black hair is tied back, sleek and pristine, and he has sharp features and a fine figure. 

However, a handsome face has never much moved you.  You always thought yourself too logical of a character, your heart shaped oddly next to others.

Now you are looking at Jisung’s dark-painted nails, his soldier’s hands on the reins.  Now you are feeling his breath at your nape, the warmth that emanates from his body, hot from wearing black in the summer sun.  You are very aware of him and it is not merely because of his athletic body or handsome face or any obvious charms.  No, instead you think of him helping his friend.  You think of him helping you.  In the span of a few moments, he risked himself to help multiple people even though there was nothing in it for him.  This makes him more than a handsome face. 

Your stomach twists in a very different way than before.  That feeling is exacerbated when he reaches into a saddlebag and retrieves a waterskin. 

“Here,” he says in a soft voice.  “Drink. Go on.”  He puts it in your hand. 

You take a deep drink, purging your mouth of the foul residue of sickness.  You thank him just as softly and hand the waterskin back.  

Once settled, the train resumes course.  Chan waves and everyone marches on.

Despite your best effort, movement knocks you into his chest.  Jisung sputters as your undone hair flies into face. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, desperately smoothing it down.  All your pins are the carriage and you suspect the king will not be too enchanted if you stop the train to fetch them.

“It’s okay,” Jisung says.  “One second.”  He lays the reins down, his thigh muscles clenching behind you to maintain balance. 

You feel the brush of his fingertips on your bare neck.  It sends an immediate cascade of shivers shooting down your spine.  He gathers your hair carefully in his hands and guides it over your shoulder, away from his face. 

Minho also pulled back your hair, but it was a very different sensation. 

This you… feel.

He takes up the reins again, arms circled around you.  You pull yourself upright as the horse moves along. 

You think this might be a stiff, uncomfortable ride, but then he begins to hum.  You find the gentle melody placates your nerves.  Your frantic energy simmers to a cooler calm. 

After a while, conversations resume.  Jisung tells some jokes to the other guards and you smile, though it is weak.  Their camaraderie makes you miss your own friends already. 

Jisung resumes his humming, almost like he can sense your discomfort.  It is most likely a coincidence but you still find yourself sighing pleasantly. 

With the worst of your anxiety tempered, at least for now, you ask him, “Where did you learn to play music?”

“Sorry?”  The question catches him off guard.

“I don’t mean to pry,” you say.  “I’m just curious.” 

Though there is often a bard-like character in the kingsguard, it is nonetheless an intriguing amalgamation of skills.  They do not let just anyone into the kingsguard service, even if they are willing to take the vow of chastity and surrender their earthly goods.  Jisung must be an exceptionally skilled swordsman to be admitted, an interesting background for such a talented musician.  Though he was joking with his music earlier, he is very capable of composing melodic poetry.

“Music and swordplay just seem an odd match,” you say.

“Maybe,” he replies.  “Maybe not.  They both require dedication.  Time.  Practice.” 

“You are a devout man, I suppose,” you say. 

“Of course,” he answers confidently.  “I am absolutely the most devout and most impressive one here—ow.”  Someone, probably Seungmin, chucks a coin at his head.  

You laugh, looking at Jisung over your shoulder.  His eyes dart briefly to your smile, his own face brightening at the sight.  He laughs back and nods. 

“Honestly, I grew up with music,” he says.  “I didn’t, uh… I didn’t exactly grow up in a palace to say the least.  But, you know, it was definitely palace-adjacent and not a hovel on a street in the capital,” he jokes.  As he talks, you picture a little boy with a guitar, strumming on the busy city streets.  “I used to write songs and sing for money.  Then I got older.  I was looking for work when the war started.  I got recruited like a lot of boys, but I was pretty disciplined and a fast learner.  After the war, I met Chan.  He put in a good word for me, so I was able to put myself forward during the new recruitment season.”

“So you haven’t been there long,” you say.  The war only ended a year ago. 

“Ten months,” he says cheerily.  “But it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“That’s commendable,” you say.  “I can’t imagine making so many sacrifices.”

“Can’t you?” 

The question is posed softly but lands heavily.  You suppose Jisung is correct; you have both made sacrifices to be where you are, though the journeys were very different and your futures more so. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly.  “Fuck, that wasn’t my place.  Your Majesty.  Oh, fuck, I swore.  Fuck, sorry.  Ignore that.” 

You laugh in spite of yourself, catching the sound in your palm.  He laughs behind you.  Even with a sliver of distance between you, you can feel his chest shaking.

“Good thing foregoing curses is not one of your oaths,” you say.

“Oh, fuck, no, I’d fail that one for sure.  Sorry, ignore that too.” 

He is being purposefully silly but you appreciate it, smiling as you move beneath a canopy of trees.  It is much cooler in the shade, alleviating the discomfort of the hot sun.  You exhale and let your posture slacken, just a bit, just enough your bodies touch on every downward canter. 

“Were you ever scared?” you ask.  The king’s carriage is ahead of you.  You watch the wheels turn and turn. 

“Yeah,” he says.  “A bit.  A lot.  Completely.  Entirely.  But not about the vows.  I was just scared I’d let everyone down.  Especially Chan.  He put his own reputation on the line when he stood for me.  I don’t know what he saw in me.  The gods only know no one else ever saw it.  Me included.”

He laughs at his self-deprecation but you do not.  You fall into thought as you watch the shadows of the forest roll over the carriage.  You think of Jisung in that barn, risking everything for the wellbeing of someone else.  Your cheek tingles, remembering where he wiped your tear during that lonely ceremony.  Your heart still races at the memory of him singing a springtime song, dedicated to you despite the antagonistic crowd.    

“I do,” you say.

“You do what?” he asks casually. 

“I see something good in you, Han Jisung,” you say. 

“Ohh.”  He is stupefied for a moment.  You are not sure of his expression, too shy to look at him.   “Well, I don’t know about that,” he eventually says.  “I’m definitely the lowest ranked in the kingsguard.  Sorry for that, by the way.”

“Sorry?”  Now you look back, meeting his gaze.  “Why would you be sorry?”

“Well, uh…”  He looks away, to the road ahead, his voice strained with awkwardness.  “There’s a reason I was picked for proxy at the ceremony.  I’m not the best swordsman or the most pious priest.  I’m, uh, bard boy.  And the king – His Holy Majesty – he uh… well, I mean…  It had to be someone like a kingsguard but he didn’t want… I mean, that is…”

“It’s all right,” you say.  “You don’t have to say it. I understand.” 

Yes, that makes sense.  The king was heaping insults on you and your family so of course he chose the lowest ranked kingsguard to stand in as proxy, just like he chose him now. 

Irritation creeps up your neck, heating your skin.  You glare at the carriage. 

You are not even annoyed for yourself.  What a disrespectful insinuation for the king to make about his kingsguard!  The kingsguard service is as ancient as the regime.  They are a respectable, powerful order.  Admission to the order requires a great deal of work, more than simply being born in the right house.  The king has no right to insult a soldier like Jisung.  A good king should not insult any of his subjects.    

“So yeah,” Jisung says.  He clears his throat and tries to sound cheery as he says, “That’s why I’m sorry!  Anyway, it all worked out.  I’m sure I’m your favourite already, right?  I’m everyone’s favourite, obviously.” 

He is speaking jokingly but your heart skips a beat anyway.  In the next moment, the horse jumps, manoeuvring around a ditch in the road.  You fall against his chest with a thump, throwing your hands out instinctively.  You catch his wrist and hold tight. 

“Sorry,” you say in unison. 

“It’s all right,” he says.  “I got you.”

With a flush of embarrassment, you rip your hand back.  In your flustered state, you quickly say,  “I’m not sorry the king picked you.  I’m glad it was you, Jisung.” 

You turn, finding your faces closer than before.  He stares at you, as surprised as he is rivetted. 

Softly, so only he can hear, you whisper, “I believe you saved my life even before you found me in that barn.  So yes.  I’m glad it was you.  I’m glad he chose you.  I would have chosen you too.”    

“Oh,” is all he says, moved to silence. 

You remain in his arms, leaning against his chest.  You pick up the melody he was humming earlier and hum it yourself, making him laugh on an exhale.  You feel the tension leave his arms and his heartbeat skip then resume its normal cadence. 

[legalmente-loca]

Always His Eyes

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: You always saw his eyes as something glorious. But something is missing now that he is gone.

Word Count: 1,368

Tags/Warnings: angst, violence, blood, death.

Your ears were ringing. That was the first thing you felt.

What had happened? Am I dead? Is this heaven?

Lilith had tried to kill you along with Sam, you even saw a glowing light and you closed your eyes because it hurt the sight.

But you didn't feel... Dead.

You opened your eyes and the first thing you saw was Dean's feet a few feet away. You were lying on your side, your head hurt, but little by little you were more aware. You shook your head and felt a hand on your shoulder, shaking you slightly.

“Hey, are you okay?” You heard Sam's voice next to you.

But your vision was focused on Dean, his body still. You propped yourself up on one elbow and simply watched him. What happened playing over and over in your mind, like a recording you don't want to let go.

"Dean?" You barely heard your own voice, so low and strange that you thought you had thought of that name.

Sam heard it anyway, and made his attention move to his brother's body. He slowly got up and walked towards him. Meanwhile, you continued to stare at his body, as if you were hoping (no, wishing... Yes, definitely wishing) that he would move.

But that was impossible after the attack he had suffered by the hellhounds.

You stood up slowly, being able to see more of his body, but decided to keep your distance. You really didn't want to admit it, admit that he... That he...

He...

“Sam?” You whispered his name when you saw him kneel next to him. “Sam, tell me he’s okay.” You heard him cry softly, saying Dean's name.

Only at that moment did you decide to approach the opposite side where Sam was, falling to your knees while you saw how his brother lay limp in his arms. Dean's chest was torn, his own blood splattered across his face. A truly horrible scene to watch, a scene that made you squint your eyes and focus solely on his.

"Dean…” You shook your head, feeling a tear run down your cheek as you slowly extended a hand towards him. “No…” You even stopped breathing normally.

You entered the office without bothering to knock on the door. Likewise, you could barely carry the coffees in both hands. What did it matter if you didn't announce yourself before? But as soon as you looked up, you noticed that your boss wasn´t alone, but in the company of two young men about your age.

“Oh, excuse me, I'll be back another time.”

But your boss's voice made you stop your movements.

“She´s my assistant.” He said, standing up and calling your name. “Dear, they're from the FBI, they're coming for the disappearances.”

Both guys stood up from their seats and the first thing you noticed was the height of both of them, one taller than the other, but that din´t detract from the other. You looked between the two of them with a slight smile. They were both attractive, you had to admit, dressed in their suits and with almost angelic faces.

"Hi." The taller of the two said, looking at you with a friendly smile on his face.

You waved back and your gaze moved to the man next to him, his green eyes probably being the first thing that caught your attention. But the freckles near them made you tilt your head in attention.

"Hi." He stretched out his hand to shake yours, but you hesitated, diverting your attention to the cardboard in your hands that was keeping the coffee cups afloat. He seemed to notice that your hands were full. “Lemme help you with that.” He said before pulling the cardboard off of you, your fingers brushing together, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel electricity run through your body.

He passed the coffees to his partner (who almost dropped them due to the unexpected movement) without even taking his eyes off you. He extended his hand to you again and you smiled at the charm that seemed to emanate naturally from him.

"Hi." You shook his hand.

"Hi." He repeated softer this time.

You think you got lost in his eyes...

“Please don't…” You sobbed over his corpse, leaning over him slightly as you brushed his cheek with your hand, afraid to feel the skin of an uninhabited body.

“So, vampires, werewolves, Chupacabras... do all of that exist?” You walked next to him, your hands inside your jacket while the lights of the ambulance were meters away from both of you.

You had a wound on your cheek that professionals had already taken care of, although of course you had to lie to them about how you got it. Surely they would have sent you to a special hospital if you told them that you got it when a Wendigo kidnapped you along with a hunter of supernatural creatures who wears jeans to the forest.

“Pretty much yes.”

“Even Bigfoot?”

“Well, we haven't crossed paths with him yet, but I'm ready.” He responded with amusement, stopping walking to turn to look at you.

You laughed and your gaze met his, stopping walking too. Hell, his eyes could be brighter under the moonlight. Incredible, but possible.

“Okay, smart boy, for most of us college was enough,” you shrugged, your shoulder aching slightly at the movement and you wondered when your body would feel like new again, “well, for those who went and didn't have than being a secretary.”

“It's more something you are born with than something you can decide.”

You nodded your head slowly and watched him. It must have been a lonely lifestyle and you even wondered if at any point in his life he thought about doing something other than a hunter who put his life in danger on every hunt, but you didn't dare ask him, believing it to be invasive. Instead, you sighed and swayed on the spot, adopting a more timid attitude as you briefly lowered your gaze to your feet before returning it to his eyes.

“I don't know how I could thank you.” A flirtatious smile made its way onto his face and you looked at him in disbelief, but you couldn't hide your own smile. “And you had to ruin the moment.”

"Yeah!"

You shook your head in amusement and bit your bottom lip. You didn't know where your shyness had come from since Dean had actually been flirting with you at all times since you met him, sometimes being more subtle than others.

He tilted his head and brought a hand to your lips, pulling your lip out from between your teeth with his thumb. Your entire attention was on him. Suddenly, the lights of the ambulance no longer blinded one side of your face and, instead, made his shine.

And those eyes... Always his eyes...

He brushed away a strand of hair covering your eye and stroked his thumb over the bandage the paramedics had placed over your wound, so gently it felt like a feather brushing your face.

And at no time did you dare to look away from his eyes.

You ran your fingers through his hair as you whispered his name once more, your hands shaking and your chest hurting like it had never hurt before. Your tears fell on him and you just wished it was like in the movies, and that your pain would bring him back. This wasn't supposed to happen, you were supposed to find a solution and Dean would be saved. You had tried everything in one year. So much effort to prevent what you now knew was inevitable.

You looked into his eyes and had to blink because tears blurred your vision. Those eyes no longer shone. They no longer shone with the moonlight that was currently coming in through the window. They were empty, not even looking at anything in particular. They were simply two spheres without a soul to guide them. And they seemed like the most horrible thing you had ever seen in your life.

You understood that his eyes were only beautiful because they had his life inside them.

Dean Winchester One Shots

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[gracemain919]

The Priest (oc): Short story

(The Fungus universe)

Summary: You try and distract the Priest from a very important duty.

Tw: Yandere, oral sex, slight mentions of murder and abuse

You Can’t Leave Without a Reward.

No… you shouldn't have heard that. Yet, you did. An unintentional snoop that caused you to overhear a certain mission. One where the Entertainers would wreak havoc over an enemy site… The mere mention of such actions struck fear into your mind. The site wanted any enemy to stay weak, so this could cause so many losses… So many deaths…

This leaves you with the results of many unsure decisions. Body covered with the most unstable towel at the empty dinner table.

You were never a flirt, you had never tried to get any of their sexual attention, yet strangely enough, this was your first idea. Which to come to think of it? You were regretting it by the second. God, if you fail you are just going to look stupid and idiotic, but you had to at least try.

The entertainers worked in a group, special missions like that required the three of them. If one doesn't show up, the mission gets delayed along with a very long earful by the present members.

So you just had to hold one of them back just long enough… and the only one that felt less dreadful to choose was Henry. The Priest. He was strong-willed but… it was better than choosing Doppelganger.

Waiting around the empty room, the clock getting dangerously close to the hour. He always showed up in the dinning room before missions. For the mere fact of grabbing a drink. He would get there… At any moment… He should…

As more time passed, the sweatier you felt. The towel felt like it was crushing your lungs by the way your breath was being stolen by panic. If he didn't come… No, he will. He will-

It was like an angel had come. The door suddenly being opened to reveal the familiar older man. Bag in hand, he strolled inside before abruptly stopping. He seemed surprised by your presence and attire, his eyes only glancing at your body before diverting his gaze toward your face with haste. As if ashamed of his wandering eyes.

“My lord, didn't expect you to be here. Did no one wash your clothes?” he asked, making his way to the fridge… Grabbing himself a drink, turning back to you.

Ok, you had his attention… Now… what do you do? You didn't think so far ahead. Fuck!

“Uh, no. I had… clothes. I just thought…”

Come on, you had to think. You could say something better. You just had to think.

“I thought you… uh, deserved a reward today. Yeah”

Came out with the worst stutter you ever thought was possible. No joke, no one would ever even consider that as flirtation. Nevertheless, the man seemed moved. Curiosity displayed clearly on his features, along with a slight shade of red on his cheeks. Almost unnoticeable if you aren't paying proper attention.

“A reward? I must say I would appreciate anything you give me. Yet… for what reason may I ask?”

“Uh, because… because,” Your eyes lowered for a second, trying to come up with an answer. “Because you are extremely… helpful and you have worked hard for the people on your floor… so I want to thank you for that.”

You smiled, trying to push away any doubt in his mind, but his broken gaze towards the clock scared you. He eyed the time with slight worry before turning toward you once more. “What may the reward be?”

God, he isn’t an idiot… Why is he acting like this?

You fiddled with the towel, your fingers playfully circling the fabric. Your bust was practically on display, the towel only covering the bottom half: barely. “Just a very well-known reward… Wouldn’t you like that?”

You would think you look like a good meal. The corrupted flaunt over for ankles, so imagine your surprise when he looked away. “I’m sorry… my lord. I have something to do. Maybe when I come back-”

“What!” your anger couldn't help but show, but you quickly retracted your sentence. Eating away your own venom and swallowing it whole. “I mean why?”

“I… have something to do. I'm truly very sorry I can't indulge you in such acts at this moment”

“If you refuse you will return to nothing” the words came out suddenly and coldly. Failure wasn't allowed and if the sweat that coated your skin was any indicator, it would indicate how little options you had. “I got all prepared just for you… to turn me down?” You played the part, pouting, and everything. Observing as his resolve and will started to falter with each passing moment. Just for a little while… that's all you needed.

However, he didn't seem sure. His eyes returned to your form, tearing into your skin while debating the clock. Every single flick to the clock breaking your already hurt dignity. So, in a moment, in a mere moment, you made a decision. One that barely crossed your mind, still your body followed. You let the towel drop to the floor showing everything you had to offer. Every inch of your skin was exposed, while the bottom half of your body was hidden by the dinner table. A treat just inches away from his grasp…

….

To hell with the mission. How many times has the Doppelganger come in late for less dire reasons? Hundreds!

It was as if a light switch was flicked. Suddenly the distance between the both of you started getting smaller and smaller, each step around the table sending shivers down your spine.

“Fine, I will take your… gracious gift. My lord,” the man muttered, his voice breathless as he stood by your side. Fingers up your neck in gentle caresses while his eyes were focusing on all the wrong places. His eyes showed glee, the clock long forgotten by the way he tilted your head, trapping you in a deep kiss.

A familiar warmth invaded your mouth but you accepted the sensation. The man himself let out a sly moan before taking a moment to breathe…

“I love you. Truly” the man said, a sigh leaving his lips as if he was in a dream. “Let me just…”

“You can do anything,” you said plainly, not being able to hide the blush on your face, but Henry chuckled shaking his head. “I don't wish to do anything with my clothes off, my lord.”

Huh… peculiar.

His hands settled on your closed hips, a faint smile on his face. He gave the flesh a squeeze before gently prying your legs open for his patient gaze. He took his time eyeing every nook and cranny you so kindly bestowed upon him, yet the main event had to be done, and he was more than willing. He got down on his knees causing your mind to backtrack on everything you had ever wished for. You wished for failure and success, so the end result was never going to please you. So it only made sense the disdain building in your heart by his every touch.

In spite of the disgust you felt, you couldn't lie and say that they didn't make you feel… pretty. You felt wanted… in a way even if it only was for your body or your presence.

The way his soft hands sunk into your things before dipping his head. You felt his breath on your regions and any proper lover would look and watch their partner during such acts but you preferred to observe the clock. Anything to distract you from the wet feeling of his tongue giving your cunt some delicate attention. One hand poked at your thigh, pushing it aside while the other opened your precious flower for his ministrations.

The quiet room soon started to echo your decisions. The laps of his tongue along with the slight moans leaving you both. He acted as if eating a divine meal and you felt disgusting in a way… You weren't divine, you weren't anything special, yet he practically drooled by your mere taste.

The sensation almost made you forget the time… 25 minutes. 10 trying to convince him and the other having to sit in this humiliating position. Legs raised in order for him to indulge in his tastes, hardly taking breaks to breath air. Truly impressive, you could feel flattered…

Your body started feeling hot, resting your head against the chair as your legs tightened against his head. Practically griding your body against him in search. In search of a release, one he felt happy to give, only if the door didn't open right in the middle of it.

….

It seems the entertainers will have to reschedule such a mission. Oops.

(Since he won the pull. So here is the story;-;)

[snowy-vee]

BSC: Back to School (1)

n/a: You all know the drill, enjoy and let me know <33

INDEX

It did not hit you that the summer was over until you were in your shared room and a T-shirt landed in your face. You throw it back to the owner, your best friend and the most fabulous person in the building, Dina.

“Are you not going to unpack? We have to get ready for the ‘Welcoming dinner’, hurry up, put your uniform on!” She was almost done with her suitcase, putting it under the bed once she did. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, she could see that as she approached her vanity with a brush, freeing her hair from the tie, her dark curls fell gracefully on her shoulder, she was focused on brushing them until her eyes looked at you in the mirror.

You were sat in your bed with a frown in your lips, you had such a nice summer and you wanted to extend it more, It’s not like you hated the school but homework, exams, activities you are obliged to do… that’s not something you like. The stare of Dina was too intense making you stand up and start undressing to put on the uniform which consisted in a dark brown skirt, a plain white shirt with a red, white and black tie and a light brown blazer with the pin of the school.

This year you had a glow-up, it’s not as if you were bad looking the other years, but this one? You were radiant not only because the uniform finally hug your body in a right way but because you caught Jesse watching you once you enter accompanied with Dina, that made you jump a little bit once you two were out of his sight, screaming on Dina’s ears. The cold bedroom made your enthusiasm go down and that’s when you sat on your bed and realized that you were at school.

“I can feel it in my bones, this year is my year” you said applying kiwi chapstick in your lips, doing the sound ‘pop’ twice “The way he looked at me? He’s obsessed”

Dina couldn’t help but laugh opening the door of the room “He soooooo is, now, let’s go dine, delulu”

“I’m not delusional!” you protested following behind her “Why are you walking so fast?”

You catch up to her her, linking you arm to her as you two laughed in the hallway, casually saying ‘hi’ to others girls that were heading to the dinning room. The school was enormous, so the girls and boys rooms where in different ends, each of the with the same installations such as common room, community showers, etc.

In the middle it was the dinning hall, the library, the music room, the principal and professor’s offices and more, there were three hallways that connected to the other building where classes where taught, you could find you locker there and the study room. The school was surrounded but a lot of woods and deep into them, there was a cabin where sometimes people threw parties but it was mostly for the third years to use exclusively whenever they wanted, you needed an invitation to go there.

“Hate this” You said standing behind your chair “Why do we have to wait? Can she just give her speech while we eat?”

Dina rolled her eyes shushing at you, you rolled them too looking around the room while the principal was giving the speech on how this was a new year and blah blah blah, you couldn’t care less as your eyes landed on the most amazing guy in the room, Jesse. A dreamy sigh left your mouth as you look at his perfect styled black hair, how amazing that shirt was on his chest and arms ¡Oh, his muscles! You could moan just to think of touching them.

The silly smile that adorn your daydreaming face faded as you saw a hand on his shoulder, your eyes diverting your attention to the girl besides him, his “bestfriend” Ellie Williams. Of course, she couldn’t be one minute away from him, always by his side, you’ve heard rumors that she usually sneaks to go to his room AT MIDNIGHT.

You found it outrageous, they never officialese anything but you knew there was something between them. Everyone in the room started clapping and so did you, shaking your head to let those thoughts fell ans sit down to start eating. “I’m so mad right now, I feel less hungry”

“Then why are you filling your plate?”

“Because I am hungry, Dina!”

“I am not your enemy, don’t talk bad to me” She put some rice and peas on her plate and filled her and your cup with water.

“I know, sorry, It’s just- Doesn’t she have anything else to do then be around him?”

Dina looked at the direction you were so fixated, watching Ellie and Jesse eating and laughing with the rest of the people in their table “They are best friends, you and I are always together, attached to our hips”

“It’s not the same and you know it”

She huffed exhausted knowing that you could go for hours talking about those two, so she just started talking with somebody else, you later joined in once your stomach was relaxed and you felt more happy and enthusiastic. When the dinner finished, everybody left slowly the room, some talking with other about the summer, others on their phone or simply walking but ¿You? You were sprinting to your room, tugging your bestie with you.

There was going to be a party in the cabin, everybody beside first years was invited, that meant more time to appreciate the beauty of your soon to be boyfriend. You were excited as you opened your wardrobe searching for something good but not too much.

“I need to look like a slut but not like a slut, you know hat I mean?” you asked Dina showing her two tops and waving them, she pointed at the one in your right “Cool”

She started getting ready too, flared jeans and a cute top was her outfit, she was not going to touch her hair again, she just applied some mascara and she was done. You felt kind of jealous of how pretty she was, and her personality? She was amazing.

“Look at that ass, girl!” you hyped her up slapping it “Are you trying to end the year with boyfriend just like me?”

“Something like that…” she shrugged. Her phone started vibrating, it was a call, you assumed, because it kept going “I’ll take it outside, are you ready? let’s go in five”

You nodded looking at her taking up the call with a ‘wait, I’m not alone’ as she went outside. Whatever, you had to practise your smile and the tone you wanted to use, ugh, this was hard, flirting was hard ¿Why couldn’t you just cast a spell on him and start dating? Skip all the awkwardness and straight to be the love of each others lives.

The door opened and Dina knocked looking at you “Come on! Everyone is gone!”

“I’m ready”

The walk towards the cabin was more sneaky than anything, it wasn’t until you were close that you could hear the music and see the bonfire outside, most of them were already drinking or smoking. The nervous feeling in your stomach was growing, you were hoping to look good, you were hoping for tonight to be the start of something good.

“Let’s have a drink to calm you down, honey” She said sensing how tense you were “Something light but enough to relax”

Inside the cabin there was too many people, you did not cared about that, you cared about not being able to spot Jesse anywhere, not outside, not inside. “Maybe coming today was a mistake”

You look at the inside of the cup that was handed to you frowning your lip in a sadly way, Dina shook her head holding your hand and taking you to the middle of the room, spin you and make you dance. Rolling your eyes you started dancing with her, having fun for a moment, sipping on your cup and maybe adding a little bit of more liquor in it.

Dina had her phone on her hand, checking time to time “Uh- I have to go outside for a moment, I’ll be right back!”

“For what? Dina!”

She was gone from your eyesight, you hated that, this has been her behaviour the whole summer too. You thought that maybe she had a sneaky link but eventually she would talk about it with you ¿Guess what? Almost 3 months and she didn’t.

You let yourself fall in a space in the couch, taking out your phone and replying to some messages from other friends, it’s not like you were 100% a loner but the only one who got you and you could be yourself was Dina.

“Why the sad face? This is a party”

You turned facing the stranger that was talking to you, just to find the face of the last person you wanted to engage in a conversation “None of your business”

She laughed while drinking whatever was left in her cup “Hey, I was just trying to be nice, your loss cause I’m actually very funny”

“If I need someone to make me laugh, I’d hire a clown, are you a clown?”

“Whatever you want me to be, I could” Ellie lock her eyes in yours, your mouth opened slightly narrowing your eyes as you moved aside.

“Yeah, no… Where’s Jesse? I mean-” you cleared your throat, you couldn’t give yourself away, letting Elie know your feelings for her best friend “You guys are always together as if you too were something more than friends”

There, you said it, now just wait to see her reaction or response. She stayed silent for some seconds before bursting into laughter, what was so funny? You didn’t get it.

“Oh, god, you are so funny” She wiped away a tear that came from laughter. “First of all, I like girls”

“You like girls?! Since when?” You were confused, you’ve never heard of this, not even in the gossip forum. That meant that Ellie was not competition any more, this was your year! You were screaming mentally and jumping all around.

“Yeah and I don’t know”

“Cool” now you could gift Ellie one of your friendly smiles, you turned your body on her direction, putting all your attention on her. She must have felt the shift in the whole vibe because now she was the one moving aside. “What were you saying about you being funny?”

The time went flying, you found her very entertaining, she actually someone you could easily talk to about anything ¡Gosh! You could have befriended her a long time ago if you weren’t so judgmental. You barely noticed when Dina came back and touched your shoulder.

“Finally! Where were you?” She sat in your lap.

“Outside, I told you. Hi, Ellie”

“Hi, Dina” she said kind of nervous, scratching the back of her head. You looked between them two as the energy was starting to feel off, that was until Jesse appeared in the picture in front of Ellie.

“Ellie, some of us are going to play poker, do you want to join?” He turned to look at you and he smiled “Hey, girls”

You silly laughed, biting your lip slightly before saying ‘Hi’, you couldn’t believe he was talking to you, even if it was just courtesy, HE WAS TALKING TO YOU. He said ‘Hey, beautiful lady that I want to marry soon’ with his eyes.

“Yeah, let’s go” Jesse helped her get up from the couch and you wished to be her at that moment to just casually touch him “See you around”

She was talking to you, but your eyes were only on her friend, Dina had to pinch you discretely for you to react “Oh, yeah, see you!”

Ellie waved ‘bye’ before disappearing from the room. You finally could breath and giggled pushing the dark haired girl out of your lap and to the couch, not only you found out Ellie liked hers but also Jesse talked to you, the tarot reader was right, this year was the year of love for you.

“Can we go? I’m so sleepy”

“Yeah! We have so much to talk and scheme tonight, I just found out about something so fundamental!”

“Fine by me if that means you’re going to talk alone and let me sleep while you pretend I’m not”

“Yeah”

[hunnysnoops]

₊˚｡⋆❆ 𝔹𝕦𝕣𝕟 𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖 ❆⋆｡˚₊

Chapter Two: Vanilla Baby

Kenny McCormick x fem reader

Pages after pages I write for me and no one else. Standing tall, no brick in the wall, I take care of myself. Fickle is as fickle does as solitary links. My, oh my, it's hard because she says just what she thinks

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: Family dinner diverts a bit from what you’re used to.

Warnings: crude language and humour / EDNOS alluded

MASTERLIST

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

You reluctantly step out of the car into the crisp winter evening, your breath visible in the cold air. The restaurant in front of you is grand, its large windows glowing warmly against the dark night. You pull your coat tighter around you, wishing you could just stay in the comfort of your room with your dog and a nice playlist. But Todd had been pushing both you and your mother to come to the restaurant he frequented with his buddies from work.

As you walk through the heavy wooden doors, you're immediately greeted by a wave of warmth and the sound of clinking glasses and murmured conversations. The noise swallows you, making you feel even smaller and more out of place. Your mom gives you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and leaves her hand to rest there.

Todd was already rambling, deep into a story about his day at work. "So, there I was, in the middle of this big presentation, and wouldn't you know it, the projector decided to quit on me!" he says, chuckling. "Had to wing it with just a whiteboard and a marker. Felt like I was back in school, you know? But hey, I think I nailed it!"

"I'm sure you did," Your mother smiles in return. The restaurant is beautiful, with chandeliers sparkling above and elegant decorations adding to the festive atmosphere. But all you can think about is how overwhelming it all feels, the lights dimmed to the point it could've been a nightclub.

Todd is still talking, his voice rising above the din of the restaurant. "And then, Jim, y'know, Nancy's husband- oh man, that guy's a character, he-" Todd cracks up in a laugh before even finishing his story "He said-" He tries to speak between his muffled giggles "He said 'did you hear about the guy who dipped his balls in glitter?' and I'm like 'no, what the heck, that's weird,' and then Jim says 'pretty nuts, right?'"

You weren't sure how your mom ever came about liking Todd, she was standoffish, albeit not as quiet as you. She always wrinkled her nose in distaste at loud and obnoxious people, and then she married one and was happier than she had ever been.

A hostess with a sleek black dress and a bright smile approaches, Todd breaks apart from you and your mother for a moment to speak to her, he's still stifling giggles as he does so. The hostess your group to a table near the center of the dining room. You cringe internally at the spot, feeling far too exposed for your liking.

You sit down and try to focus on the menu, though the unfamiliar dishes and elaborate descriptions only add to your stiffness. The menu is printed on heavy, cream-coloured paper, the kind that speaks of luxury and refinement. As you scan the options, your eyes widen at the prices. Everything is so expensive. The entrees are listed with descriptions that go on for several lines, each word seeming to add another dollar to the price.

"Jeez, enough about me," Todd finally caps off yet another story, turning his attention to you "How was your day, kiddo?"

"Good," you reply, glancing down at the menu.

"How was skating?" He asks and then lowers his voice, a little smile on his face while he raises a brow "How's Craig?"

"Oh, Craigs gay," Your mom gives him a little swat on the arm.

"Really? That's awesome," Todd does a little fist pump under the table "He's way nicer than that guy you were dating. What's his name? Y'know the one with the horse teeth."

"Spencer," Your mom fills in the blank and you feel the heat rise to your face, sinking deeper into your chair, lips pressed in a thin line.

"Yeah, Spencer. What an asshole." Todd mutters as he surveys the drink menu. "He was very ratty."

"Wouldn't be surprised if he was in that kitchen under a chef's hat."

Todd huffs a loud boisterous laugh, slapping his knee and wiping tears away from his eyes. With a shaky breath, he steadies himself and looks up at you through his brows "You're driving tonight."

"What?" Your heart picks up. Driving never came easy to you, it made you nervous. You had to go through driving school twice and take your N test three times before you were finally given a license, you thought that they let you pass out of pity.

"I'm drinking, your mom's drinking. Everyone's drinking except you,"

You don't say anything, eyes going wide as you look to your mom for confirmation.

"Yup, I'm getting wasted," She says, looking down at the wine selection "That's why we brought you."

"Not quite," Todd holds out a finger "Speak for yourself, I brought you for some quality family time and some thick juicy cuts of steak."

"Honey, you should get the tomahawk," Your mom murmurs leaning into Todd on their side of the table and pointing at her menu. "What are you getting?" Your mom asks to which you shrug.

"Did you paint your nails?" Todd looks up from his menu, you nod in return. He reaches across the table and grabs your hand, holding it up and inspecting your nail art skills, "Wow, pretty, right?"

"Very," Your mom smiles at the pair of you.

"Should I get this colour?" He asks your mom, comparing your hand to his own. He turns his attention to the waiter who now hovers by the table, Todd holds your hand up "What do you think?"

"Great colour," Kenny says with a smile, his voice smooth and professional, but with a hint of friendliness. Your face drops at the sight of him, eyes going wide like your roadkill caught in headlights. He's wearing a white button-up rolled up to his elbows, a black apron tied around his waist, and you can see the tattoo on his forearm that you never even knew existed. At first, you thought it to be a butterfly but on a second glance, you can see it's a moth with stars on the wings where spots should be. "Good to see you again, Todd."

"Likewise, Ken," He smiles, slinging an arm over your mom's shoulder "This is my gorgeous wife and my beautiful daughter, well step-daughter, same difference. They're pretty quiet but it's okay, I talk enough for the three of us." That statement was surely ringing true as he grinned brightly at Kenny. His voice is loud, and confident, and carries across the room, contrasting sharply with the quieter murmur of the surrounding conversations.

"You must have beat men off with a stick," Kenny grins at Todd, casting a brief glance at you.

"You'd think, right?" He laughs "She doesn't leave the house long enough for the boys to even see her!" Silently, you curse him. Your mom pinches her nose bridge, gently tapping Todd on the thigh as a signal to reel it in. "Anyways," Todd clears his throat "This is Kenny, best guy around."

It was moments like these you wished you wished that Todd wasn't so extroverted. While you thought it was sweet he and your mom balanced each other out and he always had good intentions, his mouth moved faster than his thoughts and he was never able to stop himself from talking at a mile a minute. "Thank you, thank you," Kenny tilts his head in the slightest "Can I start you off with something to drink?"

"Red wine please, malbec, if you don't have that then the merlot," Your mom gives him a thin-lipped smile.

"We do indeed have Malbec," Kenny jots it down onto his notepad and looks to Todd "Let me guess, soma?"

Just when you think it isn't possible for Todd to smile anymore, he does "What did I tell you?" His gaze flicks between you and your mom "Best guy around, he knows me."

"I try," Then, Kenny turns to you, and you can feel your cheeks heating up. "And for you?" he asks, his eyes meeting yours.

You look down at the menu, your mind racing. "Um, water, please," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kenny nods, scribbling it down. "Alright, I'll get those right out for you."

When Kenny retreats back to the server station by the bar to fill in your orders your mom nudges Todd "Can you calm down a bit? you're embarrassing her."

"Me?" Todd asks, looking at you with a hand pressed flat over his heart. Todd chuckles. "Kenny doesn't care! he's a good kid. Plays hockey, works hard. And he's cute, right?" Clearly, you had underestimated how close Todd was to the staff here. You would've thought he had known Kenny for years but in reality, he was just an overly friendly regular.

You bury your face in your hands, wishing you could disappear. "Please, stop."

"Someone's blushing," Todd leans over and pokes your shoulder. "You got a crush?" You quickly shake your head, no. Todd waves you off "You go to the same rink, y'know?" He sits up like a brilliant idea just brushed his mind "You should be friends with him!"

Just as a deer might freeze at the slightest rustle of leaves, you tense at the unexpected words as the conversation turns toward you. Your eyes, wide and panicked, dart around nervously, searching for an escape route or a safe place to retreat and silently pleading that he doesn't push the conversation further.

"Honey, you know she doesn't make friends easily, she can't just become buddies with the waiter," Your mom says. It seemed like every word that came from their mouths was worse than the last. If you were loud enough you might scream from frustration.

"I know but it doesn't hurt to try," He says "How did the brownies go at school? Did everyone like them?"

"Todd, she's almost an adult, not a child." Your mom answers for you "Brownies don't make friendships in high school."

"Why not?" He asks "Everyone loves brownies, if someone gave me a brownie, we would be friends right away. Make twenty brownies and you have twenty new friends."

"She has Craig, and I'm happy with that. Just be glad she isn't crawling the streets with junkies and shooting up heroin."

"Okay," Todd raises his hands in defence "I'm glad."

Kenny comes back to the table, placing your drinks down in front of each of you. Your mom wastes no time in reaching for her glass and taking a sip. "So, how's figure skating going?" he asks casually, surprising you as he places your father's beer down.

Your heart skips a beat. "Fine," You mumble. Your parents look at you expectantly "Uh, how's hockey?"

"Pretty good," he says with a smile. "Got a tournament coming up so there's extra practice on the table."

Your mom and Todd exchange amused glances, clearly noticing the exchange. Todd grins. "Ah, so you two know each other from the rink, huh? Small world."

"Yeah," Kenny says, still looking at you. "She gave me some pointers the other day, she's really good."

"Why didn't I hear about this?" Your mom asks with a smile though there's something brewing in her eyes that tells you that you'll be discussing this later. You answer her with a brief shrug.

"Are we ready to order dinner?" Kenny breaks the unspoken tension between you and your mom.

"I'll have the grilled salmon with lemon butter sauce," she says, handing her menu back to Kenny. "And could I get a side of roasted vegetables with that, please?"

"Absolutely," Kenny replies, jotting down the order. "And for you, sir?" he asks, turning to Todd.

Todd grins, clearly enjoying the interaction. "I think I'll go for the tomahawk steak, medium rare," he says. "With a side of garlic mashed potatoes and sautéed spinach."

"Great choice," Kenny says, his pen moving swiftly across the notepad. "And for you?" He looks at you, his smile softening as he meets your eyes.

Frantically, you scan the menu again, searching for the cheapest thing. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just the garden salad, please."

"Any protein in that?" He asks "We've got chicken, salmon, kidney beans, goat cheese, edamame, tofu, prosciutto, mozzarella, tuna, shrimp."

"No, thank-

"Yes," Todd cuts you off "You need to eat more, you're an athlete. Do you remember what I told you about lean proteins?" He says "Can you throw some chicken in there?"

Kenny looks to you for confirmation "Do you want chicken in your salad."

"Sure," You press your lips into a thin line and hand him your menu.

"That's my girl," Todd nods, taking a swig of his beer. Todd decides to take his teasing to a new level. "You know, Kenny," he starts, leaning back in his chair with a grin and motions for Kenny to come closer. Kenny leans down slightly to hear Todd "My daughter thinks you are SO cute."

You freeze, eyes shooting to avoid making contact with anyone at the table face carefully blank and growing hot. Kenny looks momentarily surprised, but then a wide, amused grin spreads across his face. "Is that so?" he asks, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he looks at you.

Your mom chuckles, trying to smooth things over but clearly enjoying the moment. "Todd, that's enough."

You sink lower in your seat, wishing you had faked an illness and were curled up under your duvet. Kenny, however, seems to be enjoying every second of your embarrassment. He leans slightly closer, his grin never faltering. "Well, I'm flattered," he says softly. "I'll go get your orders in," he says, though his eyes linger on you a moment longer. "But I'll be around if you need anything else."

"Why did you say that?" You exasperate, keeping your voice hushed "You were the only one who called him cute and you're a fifty-year-old man."

"You need to face these things head-on sometimes," Todd says, his tone light-hearted though you felt heavier than you had ever been "You can't just put your headphones in and run off to hide somewhere-

"I'm going to the bathroom," you say abruptly, pushing yourself from the chair and begin navigating your way through the tables. As the initial embarrassment from Todd's comment hits you like a wave, you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. The friendly chatter around you fades into the background, and your heart starts to race.

"Oh," Todd raises his eyebrows in slight surprise "I stand corrected."

You catch Kenny's eyes while fleeing the scene, he looks at you and opens his mouth to speak but for once you beat him to it "Imsosososososorrypleaseignoremyparentshesmakingthingsupthanks." You say so fast that he doesn't even process the words and in the blink of an eye you're gone.

Once inside, you lock the door behind you and lean against the cool tile wall, taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself. The soft hum of the restaurant is muffled here, giving you a brief respite from the chaos of your thoughts. You start to pace back and forth, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

Why did Todd have to say that? You run your hands through your hair, feeling the frustration and embarrassment bubbling up.

You replay the moment in your mind, cringing at the memory of Todd's teasing and Kenny's amused grin. Pacing around the small bathroom, you try to calm your racing thoughts. You focus on your breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, willing your heart to slow down. Despite your best efforts, the blush remains stubbornly on your cheeks.

It's not that you don't like Kenny. In fact, the opposite is true, and that's what makes it all the more overwhelming. His clear advances in days prior- it's all too much to handle at once.

You stop pacing and lean against the sink, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks are still flushed, your eyes wide and uncertain. You splash some cold water on your face, hoping it will help cool you down both physically and emotionally.

Had you been on your own, you wouldn't be worked up. That's how you liked it. Everything was easier when you were able to cut out what you didn't want but Todd's boisterous laughter was ringing through your head like a fork shoved into a blender.

Everything was embarrassing; Todd's rushed and unthoughtful comments, your mom's reminders to quiet down, and your reaction to all of it were only making it worse. You compose yourself the way you would a song or a speech, trying to remember who you were away from all of this humiliation.

You had been hiding in the bathroom far longer than you would've liked, to the point your mom was texting you to see if you were okay. You look back up at yourself in the mirror, giving a little thumbs up before pushing the door open and navigating back to your table.

As you return to the table, you find Kenny already there, the food has been dropped off and he's chatting easily with your mom and Todd. He's standing with a confident, relaxed posture, his smile bright and engaging. It's clear that your parents are thoroughly charmed by him.

"-and that's how I managed to get the puck into the net at the last second," Kenny is saying, finishing up a story. "It was a wild game."

Your mom laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "That sounds amazing, Kenny. You must be a great hockey player."

Kenny chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck modestly. "I try my best."

Todd nods appreciatively. "That's the spirit. Teamwork makes all the difference. So, how do you balance hockey with school and work? That must be a lot to handle."

Kenny shrugs with a smile. "It keeps me busy, but I like it that way. Plus, it teaches me discipline and time management. And honestly, I enjoy all of it."As you take your seat, Kenny's eyes flicker to you, and he gives you a subtle, knowing smile. "Welcome back," he says warmly.

Todd, not missing a beat, leans forward with a grin. "You know, Kenny here was just telling us about his plans after high school. Sounds like he's got a bright future ahead."

"Oh?" you say, trying to sound casual "What are your plans?"

Kenny's smile widens as he looks at you. "I'm hoping to get a hockey scholarship. I've been talking to a few colleges, and things are looking promising."

Your mom claps her hands together, delighted. "That's incredible, you must be so excited."

"I am," Kenny admits, his gaze steady on yours. "But it's also a bit nerve-wracking. There's a lot of pressure, you know?" Kenny then shifts the conversation smoothly, including your parents again. "But enough about me. How about you all? Do you have any holiday plans?"

Todd laughs. "Just the usual family gatherings. Lots of food, lots of noise. You know how it is."

"Sounds like fun," Kenny says genuinely. "Family time is the best, especially during the holidays."

"Do you have a big family?"

"I do but I don't see them much, my older brother moved out and my sister lives in another city."

"That's too bad," Todd frowns exaggeratedly "Well, I hope you visit them."

"Yeah, as much as I can," He says, glancing around the restaurant "I really should check on my other tables but I will be around if you need anything at all."

You tune out of the conversation entirely, picking at your salad while Todd asks you questions before he answers them himself. "Why do you think it's called New Zealand? Was there an old Zealand or just Zealand?" He laughs "I'm just being silly."

The anxiety from earlier lingers at the edges of your mind, making it hard to fully enjoy the evening that you weren't fond of from the beginning. Your parents are engrossed in their conversation, Todd animatedly discussing a recent project at work while your mom listens attentively. You stay quiet, letting their voices wash over you as you try to push through the discomfort.

As you spear a leaf of crisp lettuce with your fork, your appetite feels as elusive as a whisper in the wind. Each bite is a struggle, the vegetables seeming to lose their crispness and flavour as soon as they touch your tongue. Your appetite had been curved by everything around you.

You try to force yourself to eat, pushing the fork through the salad. But each bite feels like a chore, the act of chewing becoming laborious and unenjoyable. Swallowing becomes a challenge, the food seeming to stick in your throat despite your efforts to wash it down with sips of water between each bite.

Your mom casts you a long glance, her eyebrows drawn in and lips downturned as she watches you place your fork down and push the remainder of your meal away, she bookmarks this little moment and decides to table it for another time.

Todd absolutely ravages his steak, tearing into the meat like a wild animal devouring what it could without knowing when it would eat again. You fought the urge to gag, instead turning your attention to your mom who elegantly sliced off bits of her salmon.

Just as you think the meal is winding down, Todd claps his hands together with a grin. "Alright, what do you say we order some dessert for the table? Can't leave this place without trying something sweet!"

Todd signals Kenny over, who arrives promptly with that ever-present smile. "Sounds like you're ready for dessert."

You immediately shake your head "No-

"You need to eat more," Todd says "Eat, eat, eat," He tries to create a little chant which your mom thankfully doesn't join in on. After silence falls over the table at his failed attempt to start a rally he clears his throat "Two chocolate lava cames and one tiramisu for the wife. This one bakes all the freaking time so she's a bit of a dessert connoisseur," He points at you and tilts his head.

A few minutes later, he returns with the desserts. The rich and enticing chocolate lava cake appears to have a molten centre just waiting to be found. The tiramisu is exquisitely layered, featuring creamy mascarpone and delicate ladyfingers dipped in espresso.

Kenny places the desserts on the table, but when he sets down the chocolate lava cake in front of you, you notice something extra. Right next to your dessert, on the edge of the plate, is a dollop of whipped cream shaped into a smiley face. You couldn't keep a straight face, your lips curved just the slightest though it doesn't go unnoticed by Kenny.

[fatuismooches]

Hello! Just dropping in with another silly question but what are dinner dates looking like with Zandik and the segments? Like if fragile reader was slowly getting better and decided to enjoy a little dinner date with one of the segments each, some not even going out but rather in a private dinning room within the place.

Though it sounds unbelievable to many, there's quite often a segment with you for meals, due to various reasons (shaky hands, lack of appetite/motivation, etc). Of course, over time their presence becomes less and less as you become healthier, however, it is certainly not what one calls a "date." Most of the time it's pretty much just you eating in peace while the segment attends to whatever work he needs to do while simultaneously keeping an eye on you. Which is why you wanted to change that up a bit, both you and your beloveds deserved a small break.

I don't think you would actually go anywhere with any of them. Both of you probably prefer being in the comfort of the lab much more (and also the effort of going out and dressing up and all... so much work... but here you can drag them to bed to cuddle right after! Yeah, is the lab kinda dreary and boring? Maybe, but you can spice it up! And it's the person in front of you that matters, after all.)

It'd be a pain to get Zandik himself to do this, he's always busy and locked up in his lab doing research and work... and furthermore, he barely eats... when he does, he does it too quickly and doesn't even savor the food properly, just so he can get back to experiments quicker. That's not proper for a dinner date! Not sure how you'd convince him, not very easy. Even if you do, it would be quite rushed and probably not what you wanted.

It would be a very special occasion whenever an actual dinner happens. Even though you two would have a lot of a lot of time, he would find it difficult to sit and simply eat for so long. He thinks of his segments and their work. However, just keep your hand placed on his and try to divert his attention. Getting him to start ranting about his projects is pretty easy. Once he gets into the atmosphere, he seems to forget this is a dinner date rather than a chatting one (still eats the cold food like it's no problem).

It's easier to get the segments to do this, mostly because they're vying for your attention as they don't get much from you sometimes...

Omega is by far the most suave with it. He wipes your face when you have something near your mouth, and he helps you recover from joking when he says something that makes you embarrassed. Also forces you to eat the vegetables. Webttore, well, it's pretty chaotic. The "romantic" aspect of a dinner date is lost on him. Be prepared to defend your dessert against him, he will try and take it. The Akademiya segment wouldn't have much of a taste for a good dinner, having become used to hardly edible stuff, but he would appreciate it the most if you cooked for him. His notes are always present at dinner, something that reminds you of being a student with him four hundred years ago. Of course, he'll let you read them if that's what you wish. (Please engage in intellectual conversation with him about them.)

The only segment that you can have an actual dinner with every day really is little Zandy. The conversation is always sweet and fun when you're with the child. However, sometimes you need to remind him to eat before the food gets cold or not to speak with his mouth full...

[ghostofaboy]

I Can Bring You In Hot

Summary: Maxwell is Din's latest bounty but in an attempt to ensure his freedom he's willing to offer the Mandalorian anything.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Maxwell Lord Rating: Explicit | Word count: 2616

Warnings: Oral sex, face fucking, facial, Dom/sub elements, Din's helmet stays on, light bondage

Note: This has not been beta read, so apologies for any mistakes. This was a request from @boliv-jenta as part of my 200 Follower Celebration. Divider by @saradika-graphics

"Please wait! I'll do anything you want, just let me go."

Din frowned under his helmet at the cowering man before him and sighed. Jobs had been slim on the ground for a while, and this one was barely going to cover the cost of his fuel. Usually he preferred to stick to the Outer Rim, but some rash young group of bounty hunters had snatched up all the local jobs by the time he'd gotten back to Nevarro last week. So it had been this, or a trip to Balmorra and Din really didn't want to be that close to the Core.

So here he was on Ord Mantell in the Mid Rim chasing some 'businessman' who ran out of his investors. Maxwell Lord had apparently been the toast of Coruscant just after the Empire fell, but three years on it didn't look like things were working out for him.

"Please." Maxwell repeated. "I just need another week or so, and I'll be able to pay them. Then the bounty will be called off. Please. I'll do whatever you want."

Din snorted. They all said that. This man probably could never imagine how many times Din had heard that over his career as a bounty hunter. 

"I can bring you in warm, or I can-"

"Please!" Maxwell cut him off, getting shakily to his feet from the spot he'd dropped to his knees to the moment Din appeared in his office. "I can't pay, I need the money to settle this debt, but there are other things I could do."

"Such as?"

"I can compensate you for your trip here." Maxwell gestured over to his terminal. "Refuel your ship, for example. I know the bounty on me isn't that high. To be honest, that's why I was so surprised someone took it. My investors, well, I think they put it out to scare me into getting their money."

Every instinct was telling Din to just grab this guy and take his payment. He would get his credits, be able to refuel... and then what? Damn it! Maxwell was right. The bounty was half what he'd usually consider taking. Most of his pay would go on fuel, with barely anything left over for food or to hand to the Covert. 

"I'm listening." The words were out of his mouth before the rest of Din's brain could engage.

"Good!" Maxwell smiled brightly at him. "Well, yes, I can refuel your ship and... and... if you let me go..." Maxwell trailed off, diverting his eyes from Din as he thought.

"You're going to have to do better than just fuel." Din shook his head. "Something much better."

Maxwell swallowed hard, nodding as his eyes rested on Din. For a few moments, he just stared, and the Mandalorian could feel the other man analyzing him. Those dark chocolate eyes were filled with worry, but there was an intelligence behind them that Din rarely got to see with his usual quarry. Finally, Maxwell straightened himself, brushing a few errant hairs from his forehead before looking Din directly in the visor.

"If you let me go, I promise to not only refuel your ship, but I will make any dream you have come true."

"Make my dr-" Din shook his head, almost laughing. "What?"

"You must have wishes, dreams, desires." Maxwell gestured to Din. "I've heard Mandalorian's have high libidos. Surely you have needs that require fulfilling."

This was a new one. Usually when trying to get away from him his bounties would offer Din credits but this definitely new.

"And what if my dreams are not to your taste?" Din cocked his head. He was intrigued now. If Maxwell was truly offering sex in return for freedom, Din wanted to see just how far the other man was willing to take it.

But to his surprise Maxwell laughed, not a dismissive one aimed at Din, but a soft surprised chuckle.

"I assure you my tastes are quite broad, Mandalorian. If you promise to let me go tomorrow morning, you can do whatever you want to me tonight."

He should have said no and placed the businessman in carbonite. He should have done his job, gotten his measly credits and taken the reputation merits with the Guild. But instead, Din let out a long sigh. 

"Deal."

The room Maxwell led him into was much more modestly decorated than Din would have expected. When studying him to learn where he might be, Maxwell had given Din the impression of a brash extrovert. The other man wore well tailored suits with bejeweled cuff links and large gold rings that screamed for attention.

His ads on the holonet were all smooth talking pitches aimed at making the viewer feel as though he were talking directly to them, all the while appealing to as broad an audience as possible. Some called him a con-man, but Din was sure Maxwell would have preferred holo-personality. The type of person who thrives in that environment of influencing others. But this room had Din second guessing his assessment.

While it was a large suite, with huge bed and plush furniture, it was by no means extravagant. Din had seen how some bounties spent their credits and the type of gilded facade that passed for wealth. This was understated, classy even. 

"Welcome." Maxwell spread his arms after throwing his suit jacket over the back of a chair. "I'd say relax and make yourself at home, although I doubt you'll be taking any of your armor off."

"No." Din turned back to face Maxwell, who simply nodded with apparent understanding.

"In that case," he swallowed hard, "what would you like me to do?"

In the short walk here from the office, Din had found Maxwell in his mind had been running through every fantasy he'd ever had. Some were immediately off the table. Either involving Din removing more clothes than he was comfortable with or requiring a level of intimacy that was part and parcel of the dream. 

Finally, he'd settled on something he'd always wanted to try but had never had the guts to ask for. With partners he knew Din wasn't sure how to bring up the subject, and when paying for sex he preferred to keep things simple. But with Maxwell, well, Din had the opportunity to really push things both for himself and the charismatic businessman.

"Take your clothes off."  Din's command was brief and to the point as he set his rifle down on a table close to the door. Never taking his eyes off Maxwell, Din's cock twitched to life as the other man didn't hesitate and began efficiently removing his clothing. 

With each layer more sun-kissed skin was revealed and Din started to marvel at the differences between them. By necessity Din tried to keep himself in good shape, not bulging with muscles like some of his brothers back at the Covert but toned at least, but Maxwell was beautifully soft. 

Thick, full thighs, a small round belly and a pair of tantalizingly grabbable tits were all bared for Din. Finally, as Maxwell pulled down his underwear, Din’s eyes locked onto the other man’s erection jutting out from under the slight swell of his stomach. He was much smaller than Din, but thick, with a heavy set of balls that swung as he kicked his underwear away to the side.

Din’s legs moved of their own accord and he began circling Maxwell, who to his credit stood proudly nude and erect for Din to appraise. As he reached Maxwell’s back, Din reached out and firmly pushed the other man’s shoulder down. Maxwell understood immediately and bend forward, planting his feet further apart to steady himself as he gave Din a better view of his ass.

Gently pulling Maxwell’s cheeks apart, Din could see a flushed pink ring of muscle and as ran a finger to teased at the flesh, Din smiled as Maxwell’s hole briefly gaped. He could hear a short intake of breath as Maxwell showed off for him, and Din instinctually knew the Maxwell must have a dildo he used on a regular basis. Slapping Maxwell’s ass, Din glanced back towards the bed. Perhaps he’d make Maxwell ride it for Din later, make the businessman put on a show for him with his favorite toy.

“Hands behind your back.” Din unclipped his cuffs from his belt and waited for Maxwell to obey.

After a slight hesitation, Maxwell shifted, positioning his hands behind his back, letting out a quiet whine as Din secured them with the cuffs. Then, with another firm hand on his shoulder Din helped lower Maxwell onto his knees.

Walking back over to the table where he’d left his rifle, Din quickly and efficiently removed his bandolier, explosive charges and any weapons he had on him. The last thing he needed during this was an accident and he was confident Maxwell wasn’t going to try anything stupid. After removing his vambraces and gloves Din returned to Maxwell, who had remained on his knees, his short, fat cock dripping onto the tiles between his knees.

Striding over, Din planted himself in front of the submissive Maxwell watching as the other man raised his head to look up at him. It was time. Now or never for Din to play out this fantasy or call it off and carry Maxwell back to the Crest as he was. Last chance to turn back.

Tugging open the fly of his jumpsuit, Din took in a slow steady breath as he pulled out his achingly hard cock. From his seat on the floor, Maxwell beamed up him, licking his lips as he waited for his instructions.

“You bite, you die.” Din growled, grabbing a fist full of Maxwell’s hair.

“I would never.” Maxwell sounded genuinely offended before leaning forward to gently suckle on the fat tip of Din’s cock.

He’d always wanted to try this and as Din watched Maxwell expertly work his length into his mouth he had to admit it felt better than he’d ever imagined. There was a certain amount of trust needed for oral sex and it pained Din that he’d never been in the position before to either give or receive. But here he was watching his bounty swirl his tongue around the head of his dick, each lap and flick of the other man’s tongue sending spikes of desire through him.

Din let out a long moan as Maxwell began tracing the vein along the underside of his shaft before returning to the head, teasing at his slit for entrance. Looking up at Din through long dark eyelashes, Maxwell parted his lips and began to work Din’s full length into his mouth, saliva running out of the corners as he opened wide enough for Din’s girth. As each inch disappeared into Maxwell’s hot wet mouth, Din’s skin prickled with arousal as he fought the urge to close his eyes. As much as he wanted to give into the bliss, he wanted to watch, to see Maxwell’s beautifully flushed face take his cock, to savor this moment.

Without the use of his hands, Din could tell Maxwell was struggling slightly. Obvious used to using mouth and hands in tandem, Din had stopped him from employing his usual techniques, but he was slowly adapting. After working along the shaft a few times, Din could feel as Maxwell flattened his tongue and finally took Din to the back of his mouth. As Maxwell’s nose nestled in Din’s unruly bush, the Mandalorian marvelled as he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of Maxwell’s throat. 

The burning wetness closing around him, enveloping his cock was almost overwhelming and Din’s head swam with heavy fog. Holding himself there for a few seconds, Maxwell spluttered slightly and withdrew, leaving Din slick with drool as he returned to gently suck and teasing on the fat cockhead. 

“Can you take more?” Din growled, tightening his grip on Maxwell’s hair and watching as the other man’s eyes flickered up to him.

“You want to fuck my face?”

“Yes.”

“I can take it.”

That was all Din needed as he pushed his length back into Maxwell’s throat, firmly and steadily, until the other man’s lips were stretched taut around the base. Slowly at first, Din began to move his hips, testing Maxwell’s limits as he used the other man’s mouth. Looking up at him, Maxwell was adjusting his breathing, sending puffs of hot air against Din’s exposed skin as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. 

“You’ve done this before.” Din teased, bringing his other hand up to grip Maxwell’s head fully. Maxwell responded with a wink and hummed around Din’s cock, making Din curse and buck his hips.

Shifting his feet further apart to steady himself, Din took a deep breath as he began to quicken his pace. The fire inside him was a roaring inferno now, and Din was not accustomed to ignoring it. Usually quickly seeing to himself in his bunk, Din was used to rapid bursts of pleasure, sprints not marathons, and this entire encounter with Maxwell was quickly undoing him. 

Each thrust into Maxwell’s waiting throat sent powerful thrums of pleasure coursing through him. Each time he hit the back of Maxwell’s throat, Din blinked away the dizzying urge to cum. His cock throbbed inside Maxwell, who gazed up at Din with lust blown eyes, urging him on, begging for more.

Din’s balls swung against Maxwell’s chin as the pace increased. Frantic, save for the briefest of pauses to allow the businessman to catch his breath, before pondering his mouth once more. Maxwell’s eyes watered, yet still he stared up at Din’s visor, as each blink sent tears cascading down his cheeks. 

The sound of the outside world melted away. There was nothing else now except the wet gagging sounds of Maxwell choking on Din’s cock as the Mandalorian hungrily fucked his face. Then with a vibrating whine, Din watch Maxwell pinch his eyes shut and felt the other man shudder. Peering down past his own length, Din could see Maxwell’s own untouched cock twitch as it shot bursts of cum onto the floor.

Din felt the tension inside him snap. Pulling roughly out of Maxwell’s mouth, leaving a long trail of connecting saliva, Din was just in time to stop himself from cumming down Maxwell’s throat. Instead, Din grunted and moaned as he began to paint the other man’s face with his seed. Rope after rope covered Maxwell’s beautifully disheveled features as Din spilled himself in hot spurts that landed and ran together.

Stepped back on trembling legs, Din panted as he took in the scene before him, the heady rush of his climax ebbing away and allowing him to fully appreciate his actions. A small puddle of cum sat between Maxwell’s legs, as his small dick soften and retreated, while Maxwell himself sat back to rest on his kneels panting heavily. His face was covered in cum and drool, dripping from onto his chest as the businessman gasped for air. Slowly, Maxwell reopened his eyes, searching the space in front of him until he found Din’s visor. 

“Face fucking and a facial.” Maxwell’s chest heaved as he blinked at Din. “Hard, fast and filthy. Was it everything you wanted?”

“I’m not through with you yet.” Din ran a finger through the sticky release covering Maxwell’s face before offering it to him to suck. As Maxwell suckled on the digit, swaying slightly with a playful smile on his face. “You look so perfect on your knees, ready for me to use.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Maxwell grinned. “What’s next?”

[stardusthuntress]

True Partners - Ch. 1

Din Djarin x femaleMandalorian!reader 

Word Count: ~3.2k 

Summary: Din Djarin finds himself in a bit of a sticky spot and calls in an old friend for assistance… one he may or may not have a thing for… 

TW: this one is pretty mild, but it will get spicy later… very spicy… canon-typical violence (Mando is pursued by an opposing party, nothing new there); but it does get a bit suggestive at the end and the next part will be very NSFW, so I’m just gonna rate this whole thing NSFW; Din and partner chat about getting intimate and where their limits are, trying to give this a healthy relationship vibes, you guys will have to let me know if I missed anything that goes back on that in any way! FYI, Din is starting to question his strict rules about being Mandalorian, I tried not to make too many conjectures about it, but just bear that in mind if dissenting about his culture is something you aren’t comfortable with! 

A/N: please enjoy this fun little snaggle and the Top Gun movie reference I snuck in there! Also I know very little about the N1, so please excuse any mistakes I might have made or conjectures/assumptions I made, consider it creative license required something to keep the story moving! 

Mando’a: 

Buir = parent, in this case, father 

Keldable kiss = a Mandalorian habit of giving a kiss without removing the helmet, consists of the tapping of foreheads together, usually two beskar-clad foreheads, but it doesn’t have to be 

dividers by: @/djarrex

Blaster fire scattered through the rings of the planet, as the Mandalorian took down his quarry, one by one. He’d managed to reduce their numbers back to something he could handle more easily, but it hadn’t been easy. 

Not long after they cornered him, one of them had managed a direct hit to his fuel hatch, and his fuel levels were steadily dropping. It was a slow leak, but it was still a leak. There was no way he was getting out of this one alone. 

Somewhere between reducing his opponent's game pieces from 14 to 11, he managed to send a single ping to an old friend. One he’d teamed up with for a few years, long before Grogu came into his life. Rumor had it, she resided in this sector of the galaxy. He wondered if she’d still be up for teaming up with him again. They’d parted on good terms, but he still occasionally wished they had let their team-up become something more. No matter, right now he had a few too many starfighters working against him, and his little one in his lap. Not the time for distractions. 

Fortunately, this planet had a magnetic field that interacted with some of the rocks in its rings in strange ways. Ways he could use. 

He dodged, dove, and spiraled his way through and around a few that would scatter his signature and make him hard to track. Behind him, one of the starfighters attempted to skim a rather large asteroid to cut corners and catch him faster, but a large obstacle is also a visibility gamble, and it hadn’t worked in their favor. He could see the reflection of the explosion in the transparisteel of his cockpit. 

Grogu babbled happily, arms in the air. Mando chuckled. 

Only 10 left. 

He pulled a tight turn and then diverted between several large rocky chunks, and flipped his engines to reverse and then up and low to kill his speed and add a slight rotation, lest he lose all his momentum and let his leak get worse. 

His prey fell for his trap, swerving around the rock right in front of him, trying to cut him off. One shot from his barrels and the clueless pilot was little more than a smattering of stardust. 

Just 9 more to go. 

As he swerved and dodged, closing in on yet another poorly trained pilot, his comm crackled to life in his cockpit, a familiar voice drifting through the void between them as a few blasts from a new ship entered the fray. 

“Hello, old friend! You look like you could use some assistance?” He didn’t have to see her face to know she was smiling. 

“You could say that,” He responded, trying to keep the giddiness from his own voice. 

“You sure got yourself into a fun little tangle here,” she quipped, zipping in behind him, between the Mandalorian’s N1 and his pursuers. “Brake right!” 

On cue, Mando abruptly changed course, diverting from the targeting system of the opponent that had been closing in on him. 

“You seem to be leaving a breadcrumb trail of fuel behind you. Is that why you called?” 

“It is,” he answered, in his usual short but direct habit. 

The metallic sound of an exaggeratedly exasperated sigh crackled through the comms. Mando felt a twinge of guilt for finding a reason to part ways all those years ago. He'd missed her. 

Somewhere in the distance, he saw blaster fire and a flash of orange and yellow. 

8 left.

As they chased and swerved like a coordinated team, he finally got a good look at her ship. 

“That’s a bigger ship than I remember you having,” he commented. 

Two explosions rocked the rings around them as debris scattered, only 6 more to go. 

“Yeah, got lucky. It was given to me by some good friends.” 

“Given to you? It looks like a Zyggerian Slave Ship…” Mando’s voice was laced with doubt. Was this the same woman he remembered? 

“It WAS, at one point in its history. But you know I take down Slavers on sight.” 

He chuckled with relief, “So that hasn’t changed a bit.” 

“Nope! How about you? Anything new in your life?” She asked, she always did have more fun with battles when they were paired with witty banter. 

“See for yourself.” He diverted up and left, soaring in front of her cockpit, allowing her to get a good look at the occupants of his little Nabooian starfighter, AND knock out his pursuer as it trailed unsuspecting through her sights. 

5 left. 

“Do I spy a little foundling in your lap, Djarin?” 

He chuckled, stealing a glance down at the little guy tucked into his bandolier. “That you do.” 

In his lap, Grogu squealed with joy, seemingly convinced they were riding the best rollercoaster he’d ever been on. 

“Sure sounds like a cute little one! Though I have to say, I think that leak you’ve got is getting worse. Tell ya what, why don’t we corral them over by that big dent of a crater in the obnoxiously round asteroid over there and finish this?” 

“How do you propose we get them over there?” He was getting nervous about his fuel levels too. 

“What else? Make ‘em think they cornered us, of course!” 

“That was always one of your favorite maneuvers,” he noted. 

“Yeah. It’s fun, and it’s fast, and it’s efficient. All of which are beneficial right about now.” 

A few maneuvers later, the pair crossed in front of the big crater and swung out and behind their pursuers, cornering them against the crater they were about to make larger, and opening fire. 

“See? Fast and finished! How about that?” 

“I might need you to come to me….” He seemed a little embarrassed about it, though someone who didn’t know him very well wouldn’t be able to hear the hidden pain in his voice. 

“Alright, hang tight. I’m gonna scoop you into the cargo bay and we can take a look at your ship. Can’t wait to meet the little one!” 

Din sighed, what an embarrassing way to say hi to an old flame. 

A few minutes later, Din stepped out of his ship into the cargo bay of hers. 

“No. Grogu, you stay there. I need both hands to take a look at the damage. Maybe she can take us to Tatooine if it’s too bad.” 

“I don’t know who or what is on Tatooine, but I should have all the tools you need here to fix it on this ship. Though if that’s an N1 I might not have the custom parts on hand you’ll need to get her running again.” She tried to hide the jealousy in her voice. Clearly Tatooine had something or someone meaningful to him. 

“It is. Good eye.” He notes, stealing a glance at her out of the corner of his helmet as he knelt beside his ship, reaching into the gaps between hull plates to better assess the damage. “I figure if Peli and the Jawas can’t get the right parts, maybe Boba can.” 

“Good friends of yours?” It was a good thing he wasn’t looking at her, she was struggling to keep the jealousy from making her look a bit put out. 

“Of a sort,” his voice held no clues as to their significance to him. So, he was back to being his usual vague self when he answered her questions. This would be fun. 

He stands, satisfied with his assessment of his ship, “Looks like it’s just minor damage, though I might need a new fuel hatch and hinge.” 

“If you want one that’s a little more blaster proof I could make you one with a touch of beskar, or at least reinforce it with a bit more shielding than the original design had. As much as I love the J-type Newbian ships, every ship flying between the stars has a few flaws, and that was one of theirs.” 

“And yet, you’re flying this,” he gestures to the ship around them, finally taking a chance to look around, and to take a good look at her. 

He takes a deep breath, just looking at her. “You’re still wearing the armor.” His voice has the twinge of memory in it. “But still sans helm.”

“I am still of Mandalorian heritage, the beskar was passed down in my family to me. I am still Mandalorian, according to some traditions, just not all of them… since I took off my helmet… I got tired of never seeing the stars with my own eyes, of never getting a chance to openly react to people’s expressions without coming across as gruff and unyielding. Though that can be very helpful, it can also be a negative thing at times. Children tend to fear a face they cannot read.” She clarified, unsure of how he would react to it given that he seemed to be handling that very scenario just fine. 

“I know,” he muttered. “I thought… you were the only one that did that…” 

“I take it you have met others now?” She asked. 

“Yes…” his tone implied he was still grappling with it, but he seemed to be accepting that it was a way to live and remain Mandalorian. “I had to atone for it…. But if I hadn’t taken it off, I would never have been able to rescue him.” His visor turned back towards the open cockpit of his little starfighter. 

A delighted gurgle from the cockpit of the N1 announced the appearance of a little green head with big ears and curious eyes. 

“Well hello there, little one!” she cooed, excitement adding a happy glimmer to her eyes as she took small steps towards the ship.

The little green bean lifted his arms to her, like he wanted her to pick him up. 

She looked hesitantly back at Din. “Can I pick him up?” 

Din nodded, once, but watched, carefully as she stepped forward and scooped up his little bundle of joy. 

“Hello! Aren’t you a sweet thing!” She automatically began to sway back and forth when he was in her arms. “What’s your name?” 

The baby babbled gibberish at her, reaching up to put a little hand on her chin. 

Din found himself getting jealous. Perhaps there were pros to not wearing the helmet anymore. He’d been struggling with the issue of wearing the helmet at all times since he’d gotten Grogu back and Bo had been allowed to remove her helmet. Now, once again, he found himself debating. To distract himself, he focused on her question. 

“Grogu,” Din stated, “His name is Grogu.” 

“Grogu!” She repeated, and the little one looked up at her expectantly, “Is that you?” 

A little grin and bubbly laugh echoed from the child on her hip. And she laughed too, hugging the child to her. 

“Goodness, you’re a cute little one!” She giggled. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a chance to hang out with foundlings!” She told his contented little face. 

Din stepped forward, silent as ever, unsure if he wished she could see the smile he wore beneath his helmet. He was glad she was getting along well with the kid already. 

“Oh, does Buir want you back already?” She asked as Din approached. 

Grogu giggled and extended his arms towards Din. 

She smiled and passed him the baby, watching as Din stepped into father mode. Extra gentle hands cradling the baby’s head and back as he looked him over, adjusting his little coat, then tucking him into his hand, settling him to face outwards. 

When Din looked back up, he found her watching him closely, biting her lip. He felt himself release a silent sigh. So she did still want him too. Maybe it wasn’t too late for the two of them after all. 

They fell into a comfortable silence, content to just be around each other again. 

“It’s good to see you again.” Din started, voice a little hoarse, unsure of how much he wanted to say. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” she replied, laying a hand on his shoulder in her unyielding need to be nearer to him. Her face turned towards his pauldron, a look of surprise on her face. “You got a signet!” 

“We got a signet,” Din corrected, proud of his little clan. 

She hesitantly retracted her hand. “Oh! We! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were… uh…” 

Din had forgotten he hadn’t done anything to assure her that he too had not yet found a partner! 

“We’re a clan of two now,” Din said, his voice full of pride as he looked at the small bundle in his arms and it looked up at him. “I adopted Grogu. He’s my apprentice.” 

“Oh! Two!” She breathed a sigh of relief, the sparkle returning to her eyes. “Well, your clan is always welcome wherever I call home! Speaking of, if we want to be the most efficient with fuel, it’ll take us about 2 days to get to Tatooine from here. Why don’t you two come upstairs to the main cabin and make yourselves comfortable? I have food if you’re hungry, and space to lay down - with privacy! If you need to take that helmet off, or take a nap, or anything. There’s a spare room if you want it.”

“Grogu is always hungry,” Din comments, making her laugh. 

“Well, hopefully, I have something he likes! Follow me,” and she headed back up the ladder to the crew compartments. 

Grogu takes a nap after eating almost twice his weight in snacks. 

Din finds himself making a point to get to know his former partner again. 

“Well I gotta say, I remember you having a silver ship, but that’s a much smaller silver ship than I remember you having,” she says with a sly smile, echoing his comment from earlier. 

“Yeah, Razor Crest took too big of a hit…” Din explained. He couldn’t make himself say more. It was still a bit hard for him to admit he didn’t have a real space he could call home, for the kid’s sake. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” she looked at him with concern, eyes boring into his helmet. 

Sometimes he swore she could see through it like she had x-ray vision. Or at least she made him feel seen, the real man beneath the beskar. 

“Hmm, well, perhaps you don’t have one yet, but you could have space in a ship to call home soon… if you wanted…” she hinted. 

Din was ecstatic, but also debatably certain that he was reading too much into it, so he just stared at her, unsure of what to do or say. 

She could see his chest plate rising and falling rapidly, and knew her playful comment was starting to get to him. 

She smiled at him, and Din almost melted right there. He was sure she could hear his breathing through the modulator as he tried desperately to get his emotions under control. 

After 2 days he’s making excuses to stay in her company…. 

After 2 weeks he starts flirting more directly. A wry grin from a visiting Boba (also sans helm) followed by a laugh from Peli tells her they’ve never seen Mando act this way before and it definitely means what she thinks it does. Things just flow so smoothly between them, it’s like no time has passed at all. And even the few moments when they do catch each other off guard with something, it is always quickly resolved with a laugh and a teasing nudge or a quick chat and acceptance of differences or an alteration of habits to accommodate personal preferences. 

After 2 months, he finds himself pulling her into his lap and resting the metallic dome of his helmet against her temple after putting the baby to bed. 

She hums with a contented smile and leans into him, welcoming his first attempt at a keldable kiss. 

Din’s grip on her waist tightens. 

“You know, I had one hell of a crush on you when we were partners… I think I still do, actually.” She, a woman whom he personally knows to be a badass Mandalorian warrior capable of knocking him on his ass in minutes during combat training sessions, seems shy when she says it. 

Din chuckles. “I did too, and still do.” 

She swiftly turns in his arms and nuzzles into the cape covering his shoulders. 

“You seem to have made peace with my decision to not wear the helmet all the time?” She asks, still curious what his stance is on the matter now. 

“I have,” is all he says. “Are you okay with my decision to keep mine on?” 

“Yes,” she answers, and places a quick kiss on the side of his helm to reassure him. “Do you think Grogu will be okay with this too?” 

Din reaches up to put a hand under her chin so he can look her in the eye when he says it, “I think he’s already accepted that you’re not going anywhere.”

She laughs and hides in his shoulder again. 

“You’re good with him,” Din tells her. 

“So are you,” she answers. “He adores you, ya know.” She surfaces from his cape to say it. 

Din tilts his helmet up to look into her eyes, “Will you stay with us?” 

Her eyes widen with excitement, and she bursts into a grin. “Yes!” She shifts, fixing him with an expression that hints at a question for him too. “Would you like to move into my bedroom while we’re busy adventuring?” 

“Only if you’ll move into my cabin with us on Navarro when we’re more domestic.” He teases. 

She giggles and nods. “I would love to! Though, perhaps first we should try sharing a bed for a few nights, make sure everything works out smoothly?” 

“I don’t know if I’d be able to resist being more intimate with you if we try that.” He admits, quietly. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she whispers. 

Din masks his groan as a grunt as he shifts beneath her. 

She giggles. “Don’t hold back, Din. I need you too!” she croons, the cool beskar of his helmet brushing against her lips as he leans into her. 

“There’s a few things we need to discuss, first.” He seems nervous to even say it. 

“Okay,” she says with understanding, as though this isn’t such an intimate conversation. “Let’s talk about how to do this,” she encourages. 

He can take his clothes off, but not his helmet unless her eyes are covered… and he very much wants to be able to kiss her… everywhere, though he’s not sure he’s ready to admit that last part out loud just yet. 

So she offers to get a blindfold… and or a sleep mask so they can sleep together… 

Din nods, excitedly. “You would do that, for me?” 

“Even better,” she states, “I already use a sleep mask regularly, so it’s just a matter of adding you to the bed, Love.” 

Din grips her waist tightly with excitement. 

“Do you want to start tonight, or wait a few nights first?” She asks, letting him take the reigns since this is about his comfort level. 

“Let’s wait a few nights,” he thinks it through, “I want to tell Grogu about this change before it happens… so he knows where to find me… if he needs me.” 

“Okay, just let me know when you’re ready,” she states, placing a lingering kiss on the edge of his visor.

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI to finish it for me! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself! 

taglist: @bambambunny @kenobidevil @cw80831

[tootoomanycats]

PERFORMANCES: Chapter 1 -The Storm of The Century

Summary: In the wake of a historic hurricane raging across the treacherous waters of the East Blue and Grand Line, islands and their resilient inhabitants must either adapt or flee to ensure survival. Sleep Haven, a once-tranquil oasis, now finds itself shattered by the merciless storm. What took years to build and nurture with your own hands lies in ruins, demolished in mere hours. What should have been a fleeting tempest stretched into endless months of devastation. With little left but dwindling supplies and scant funds, you and your fellow islanders embarked on a desperate flight for survival. In your hour of dire need, you reached out to a mysterious benefactor whose aid came at a staggering price. The cost: to divert the attention of the clownish "Leader" of the Cross Guild. As events unfold on BariBari Island, amidst schemes and dangers, you find yourself grappling with emotions long suppressed. Is your interaction with the clown merely a facade, or is it awakening something you've denied yourself for years? Will the repercussions of this precarious pact only affect the flamboyant clown, or will it unravel the last vestiges of your guarded heart as well? The storm may have ravaged Sleep Haven, but the true tempest now brews within your soul and the choices you are forced to make.

Warnings for THIS chapter: None

Performances Master List

Pairings: Buggy/Reader

Word Count: 4,417 Words

AO3 Link

Warning for this Story:

Reader is a retired sex worker

Both Buggy/Reader are in their early to late 30's

There will be smut scenes

There will also be cute fluff scenes

Please note that betrayal does happen to Buggy in this and as of right now I still dont know if Buggy will forgive Reader or not.

Switch/Switch sexual dynamics so its really anyones game.

Author Notes: Hello everyone! Please note that this story already has some spicy teasers that can be found on the MASTER LIST. This story was origionally only supposed to be a few smut peices, but its become what will probably be one of the most intense and intricate stories I've ever tried to take a crack at. A few things to note before you should dig into this story. Reader is a fem presenting person and there will be pronouns of She/Her for this story. I am working on stories for nongender presenting works, but for this one it is a designated identiy. Anyway if you like it, please remeber that fanfic writers live off of Likes, Kudos and Comments of encouragment and conversation. Enjoy.

Chapter 1: The Storm of the Century

"Get to the bunker!"

Amidst the cataclysmic wail of the hurricane, screams became echoes lost in the torrent. The quaint island town, once a portrait of tranquility, was now an arsenal of airborne debris, propelled by winds that shrieked at a hundred miles per hour. Mari, a slender blond woman, sprinted through the chaos, clutching a young child to her chest like a precious gem. Her eyes were set on the concrete sanctuary that had morphed into a last haven for the island's residents.

Once safely ensconced inside, her eyes scanned the room in a frenzied dance, landing on face after face, each one not the one she was looking for.

"Where's the Mistress?!"

Silence strangled the air. The group of women inside exchanged worried glances; their faces etched with a mutual dread. Finally, the child's voice broke through the din, its pitch climbing to be heard over the relentless battering of the storm against the shelter's walls.

"She said she was heading to the Ustesse family's place! Their mom is 'bout to have the baby!" A wave of collective gasps swept the room, whispers and murmurs swirling like mini vortexes. "They're gonna be okay, right Mari?" The child clung to her leg, his small face etched with terror, tears cascading down his cheeks.

Bending down to his level, Mari swiped away his tears with the corner of her apron and tenderly swept his disheveled hair from his eyes.

"Don't you worry. I have faith she's hunkered down with our friends. I'll go check on them, okay?"

The child clung to Mari's skirt, his small fingers knotting the fabric tightly until another woman tenderly pried him away and cradled him in her arms. With a resolute nod to the remaining occupants of the makeshift sanctuary, Mari clenched the rustic wood handle of the door, leveraging her entire body weight to wrench it open against the ferocious wind.

Outside, the storm raged on.

Ominous, dark green clouds churned in a frenetic dance, intermittently pierced by jagged bolts of lightning that shot from sky to ground and an encroaching sea line. Amid the apocalyptic landscape, she nearly missed her turn; the familiar road marker had been uprooted, now likely a part of the storm's airborne arsenal. Navigating just ten feet felt like an insurmountable quest as she lunged from one gnarled tree trunk to another, grasping their deeply anchored roots to avoid being swept away, her fingers ached, and the muscle of her palms cramped at the strength needed to hold on. What should have been a brief traverse felt like an agonizing odyssey.

Finally, a welcome sight emerged: the door of the Ustesse residence, peeking timidly from the slope of a small hill. Its unique architecture had rendered it a fortress amid the devastation. With the final sturdy tree and fence line a daunting hundred feet away, Mari resorted to crawling on all fours, her body encrusted with a sludge of mud and saltwater, her hair a tangled net of debris.

Summoning her remaining strength, she rapped on the massive wooden door before leaning into it, a low groan escaping her lips as she exerted herself to budge the door just an inch. Once safely enveloped by the fortress of solid oak, she gave one final heave, sealing the door—and with it, the cacophony of the storm and the haunting screams of the world outside. Silence filled the space, air stale with its humidity from the storm.

Catching her breath and hastily combing her wind-tangled hair from her face, Mari delved deeper into the short corridors of the dwelling. Just as she was about to call out, a gut-wrenching scream echoed from the far reaches of a back bedroom. Without a second thought, Mari charged down the hall, heart pounding.

"Hello? Is everyone alright?!"

A bedroom door burst open, revealing the cherubic faces of two children—twins. The boy’s eyes brimmed with tears, while his sister, a portrait of grave concern, gestured urgently toward the bed. As Mari neared the warm glow of a flickering lamp, her eyes widened at the spectacle before her.

A woman in the throes of labor crouched on all fours, her fingers clenched around the headboard with such force that the wood itself seemed to wail in sympathy. A statuesque figure—her mistress—kneaded the laboring woman’s back, offering rhythmic chants of encouragement between her cries.

"Mistress?" Mari’s voice quivered as her eyes met those of, you, her friend.

"Mari! Oh, bless the gods, you have perfect timing. We need hot water and clean cloth—fast. The twins are too petrified to leave their mother’s side." With graceful, efficient movements, your arms supported the laboring woman, guiding her to sit at the edge of the mattress. "Listen, Hannah," you spoke, tone laced with gentle humor to try and lighten the moment, "I know this isn’t your first time at the rodeo, but with the baby being breech, we need to proceed with the utmost caution. Are you with me?" You watched the mothers body language with worry, the feelings tel-tail signs hidden behind a well practiced smile. The last thing needed was for the poor woman to panic because the person she was depending on couldn't keep it together.

Hannah's face was flushed, a vivid crimson, her hair clinging like wet tendrils to her sweat-drenched forehead. Cheeks puffed rhythmically as she exhaled forcefully, desperate for enough oxygen to ward off fainting. Gripping the mattress's edge with white-knuckled hands, she heeded your guiding words. Meanwhile, Mari stationed herself behind her, soothing her flushed skin with icy rags and murmuring words of encouragement.

"You're doing beautifully. Keep breathing, just like that."

While the intimate tableau of new life being ushered into existence unfolded within the sheltered chamber, the hurricane outside continued its relentless havoc. Hours slipped by like minutes, until finally, the culmination of Hannah's strenuous labor bore fruit—a tiny, newborn life. Arms carefully swaddling the freshly cleaned infant, lips curving into a tender smile as you approached the exhausted mother while whispering.

"Ten fingers and toes—a classic choice."

Exhausted but elated, Hannah chuckled as she cradled her newborn daughter, feeling the infant's minuscule fingers wrapped around her pinky. She looked up at you, her Mistress while reaching for your hand, and planted a reverent kiss on the back of it, before pressing it to her flushed cheek. "Thank you, Mistress Your presence—and Mari’s—made this infinitely more bearable, I think we would have been in big trouble without both of you."

Warmth spread from the hand on the mothers damp cheek, up into your chest and heart before being expressed through a smile that radiated love. Bending down, you bestowed a gentle kiss upon Hannah’s forehead.

"I’ll always do whatever I can to support our little village of misfits."

A sudden cough diverted everyone's attention to Mari, who stood in the doorway of the bedroom. Her eyes were a mix of exhaustion and sorrow, burdened with news she wished she didn't have to relay. "Mistress, there are urgent matters requiring your immediate attention."

The exhaustion from the last few hours gripped your shoulders, sagging them for a brief second at the added weight of remembering the growing storm outside, and the towns precarious condition. You had been called to the home so early, that everyone in town had still been a sleep, even the baker. Something told you that todays dawn of ominous black clouds that had filled the horizon, had turned into a much more worrisome outcome than just the usual tropical depression.

You needed a drink, a stiff one at that.

Something strong enough to not only burn your tongue but also this day away. With what little energy that could be mustered from aching joints and stiff muscles, your spine straightened, with head held high and a stiff upper-lip you nodded before exiting the room, Mari trailing closely behind.

"Thank you, Mari. Any indication of when this storm might subside? I saw some dark clouds on my walk here earlier, but I haven't had a chance to see what its damage is yet." Turning down the hall towards the front of the Ustesse earthen home, the round wooden door and windows stood before you. Windows that faced out to the front of the town came into view, but your brain was having trouble comprehending what it was seeing. Lead filled your feet and forced the once hurried forward momentum you had to stop. The sudden change causing the blond to bump into your lower back, but you didn't budge. Body unable to move at the new and terrifying view in front of where you both stood.

The islands usually calm, crystal clear, blue waters were the backdrop for the small islands only town. It had taken months to bring the supplies for just the first houses foundation, let alone the last three years for the rest of the buildings to be finished at the beginning of this year. Untold hours of sweat, blood and so many tears from your own two hands had been put into creating this safe haven from nothing.

Saliva built in your mouth, a normally wet tongue felt like blooming cotton in its dry texture. The sensation forced the already cord tight muscles in your neck to swallow. A new view showed through the windows glass, one that could only be what clothes perceived of the outside world trapped during the spin cycle of a washing machine. Wind howled by so fast that you were sure you could see bits of earthen chunks being thrown at breakneck speeds. The storms dramatic change of atmospheric pressure caused both window frames to bow and groan, threatening in anguish to break. Thank god you had splurged for the hurricane rated windows this time around.

This home and the bunker had been built as a test, trying to put less financial investment into the usual and expensive construction supplies and more into a sturdier outcome with what was already on hand from the land around them. Building them both into the side of the hill had been the hardest part, but it seemed that the gamble had paid off. You blinked as dust fell from the ceilings boards, realizing that the chunks of earth you had seen were from the homes moss roof.

The home still held up, so far.

How had that storm turned into this so fast? Normally the island had plenty of warning from the weather monitor to prepare. A den-den mushi connected to the stations from the main island, it had guaranteed constant updates and warnings. In the years you had lived here, not once did even a small ‘just in case’ not get sent out. A gut sinking question pushed its way to the front of your mind.

Had the main island been caught off guard by this storm as well?

Mari had stood silent next to you, the top of her head barely reaching your shoulders, her emerald green eyes observed calmly, as a blank expression took the place of a once truly happy smile of her friends face. Years of friendship taught her patience, especially when it came to the time that you needed when processing information. She stood in worry at the events outside, but also in confidence knowing that plans for multiple outcomes were already swirling in the back of your mind while taking in what was before you.

Finally moving, you walked to the front door and grasped the copper handle to pull it open when a sudden gust of wind slammed it shut, pulling you against the unyielding wood with a loud thud. "What the—?"

Mari intervened, gently brushing your hand aside. Taking a few long strides back you watched as the short blond braced a foot against the doors frame for leverage, she clenched the handle with a firm grip and mustered all her strength to yank the door open.

With a gritty shove, the door finally yielded, breaking the vacuum seal between the tempestuous storm and the home's still air. Both of you stood silhouetted in the doorway, squinting into the blinding onslaught of the storm—visibility reduced to a mere five-foot radius. Mari shuffled her weight from one foot to the other, her nerves starting to win against her patience.

“Whats the damage so far Mari?”

"The storm appears to be getting closer, Mistress. As it stands, only Hannah's home and our newly erected shelter have withstood the havoc.”

With wide eyes and mouth gaped in shock, you turn to look down at your friend before placing a firm hand on her shoulder. Another ball of saliva forced its way down as panic set in, had the people who had come to depend on you made it to safety? The words had to be forced out with what little air it felt your lungs could grasp, voice scratchy and hoarse as the question was asked.

“Is everyone…are they okay?”

Mari gave a small smile and nodded her head in reassurance. She understood intimately the fear you had; she had been a first-hand witness to this islands ceaseless endeavors, helping lost souls and vulnerable women find not just shelter, but a home and small community to depend on. It might have been humble, but it was one of safety, filled with love and warm meals. More than most had experienced before in their lifetime.

"Everyone is safe," Mari whispered, her voice tinged with solemn relief as her smaller hand lay gently across your own. “So far it is just the buildings that have been destroyed. This storm came on so quickly the others didn't even have time to grab any personal belongings.”

Both of you looked back out the door as the hurricane seemed to stay in place on the tiny island.

“I guess we will have to wait and see what we can salvage, hopefully we can make enough to repair everything”.

Now where was that drink?

Two Months Later.

That's the length of time the colossal hurricane had churned off the coast of the Grand Line, its path ever changing, sometimes even veering dangerously close to BariBari Island. The last hurricane of this scale had been the stuff of legend, occurring generations ago. The kind of things elders spun as eerie tales for younger ears at bedtime, recounting a storm that raged for an entire year before vanishing as mysteriously as it appeared. These stories painted nightmarish scenarios—mighty ships splintered like kindling under the hurricane's wrath, lush islands stripped to barren wastelands, and entire communities swallowed up, leaving nothing but memories and fear in their wake. Its unyielding presence disrupted every facet of maritime travel and daily life for the Cross Guild.

And now, the behemoth storm showed signs of further intensifying, prompting the leaders of the Cross Guild to recall their entire armada back to the island. They aimed to minimize the loss of their assets, salvaging whatever could be spared from nature's fury. But this strategy made from necessity had a double edge to it, while it saved their assets, it also lost them time and money in doing so. The lack of incoming funds creating great irritation in the largest of the three leaders, and terrified the shorter showman. A stop to income meant debts couldn't be paid fully or on time.

The formidable warlords congregated around a large circular worn table. Emptied wine bottles, extinguished cigar stubs, and disheveled piles of coins and playing cards surrounded them like the aftermath of a battlefield. Initially convened for a formal meeting, their gathering had dissolved, as it often did, into late-night poker and calculated wagers. The air was thick with a smoky haze, trapped by the room's tightly shut windows. Scant candles flickered on sparse furnishings, casting ominous shadows that danced in rhythm to the distant roll of thunder. Raindrops pelted the windowpanes, each gust of wind testing the mettle of their rusted latches.

Just as a new round of thunder shook the very foundation of the room, the silence was shattered, with a high-pitched whine. Slumping dramatically in his chair while disembodied hands remained frozen, Buggy sneered at cards that he had yet to reveal—a losing hand, if the theatrics were any indicator. After already losings the last four rounds, his mind was craving After four loses from the last few rounds, and his chips stacks getting smaller and smaller, his brain started to struggle staying focused. Weeks of being kept inside, no sunlight and temperatures fluctuating between sweltering and freezing would make anyone irritable. Even more so for someone who’s brain never seemed to stay quite or still.

"This storm has been raging for weeks. The longer this damn hurricane goes on, the more I’m starting to think its possible to die from boredom."

Buggy stormed from his grandiose chair, boots thudding against the floor as he glowered through the windowpanes. Just two hours ago the rain-droplets had been freezing to the glass, and now it was so warm that the inside edges were dripping in humidity. It was impossible to stay in one layer of clothing for the whole day now, having to now switch between snow and winter ware to summer beach attire constantly. His usual outfit was reduced to more comfortable wear for the late night. Long azure-colored hair held up in a high ponytail to keep anything warm off his neck, classic makeup smudged after hours of wear and humidity. The fur-lined coat draped over the backing of his chair, accompanied by his stripped bandanna.

Pouring another full glass of wine, Mihawk's eyes flicked from Crocodile to Buggy. Setting the crystal glass down, a pale hand tossed a few more coins into the pile as cards were discarded and new ones added. The usually well-poised swordsman felt his patience wearing thin with being cooped inside for so long, finding time alone to read had become near impossible. Add the irritation of never having a moments peace and the shifting weather it was no wonder he had grown more and more quite as the night went on. Even his normally immaculate appearance had loosened to something more casual. Hair tousled, mustache bristling in odd directions from the sweltering dense air. Hat and coat hanging on the wall, sword leaning next to them forgotten and left to try and stay cooler during this hours choice of temperature.

Crocodile delicately ashed his sizable cigar into a nearby used glass. Leaning back into his chair, he relished the sound of the wooden joints creaking under his weight. "I've got some old acquaintances that are going to dock on the island soon. They asked if they could stay until the storm passed, its a smallish group of maybe twenty at most.”

While still looking out the window, Buggy rolled his eyes in boredom. “Oh yeah? What do they do for work?”

The behemoth man paused in his reach for a new card, a self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips as he searched for a fitting descriptor. "They're a group of retired performers—some of the best at what they used to do." Plucking the new card, Crocodile grabbed an four of clubs to throw into the discard pile before nodding to the brunet next to him that it was his turn now.

Buggy perked up, spinning to face the table, his eyes alight with eagerness. "Performers?" Then, his excitement deflated. "Oh, wait. You said they're retired, right? So, they're old and boring." With a disheartened sigh, he laid down his cards and folded them, leaving the game to the other two men.

Silence once again fills the room, the clown could feel his skin crawl from under-stimulation and the banal environment, feeling the frenetic energy of his brain becoming louder.

“So when do the geezers get here?”

Crocodile stiffed a chuckle at Buggy's question, now turning to face the sword-smith to continue their card game, deliberately ignoring the clown's feigned indignation. “They should be arriving in the next few days, If the storm allows it.”

Shifting in his seat, Buggy swung one leg over the armrest and gazed out the window again, sulking in his boredom and already reaching for his coat as the temperature started to drop again.

A few hundred leagues away

Ornate tubes of lipstick danced like marionettes across the creaking floorboards, swept away by the hurricane's invisible hands as the storm outside orchestrated an all-out assault on the ship's integrity. Each howling gust and bone-jarring wave turned the vessel into a seesaw, rocking it in erratic patterns that defied gravity, from fore to aft, starboard to port.

When a particularly large wave crashed against the ship's bow the buckets in the room slid across from one corner to the other along with the smaller trunks of storage, their scraping noises adding to the symphony of the ship's already overstimulating orchestra. Falling to your knees with a harsh thump, a hand flew to cover your mouth as a particularly intense wave of nausea made itself known. Moans, groans, and the unmistakable retching of seasick passengers reverberated through the timbers as if the ship itself were in agony.

With a sense of urgency, the that Mari had help to adorned with delicate rings reached out in a desperate ballet, snatching up the errant lipstick tubes before they could escape into the narrow abyss between creaking planks. Then, as if provoked by your defiance, a colossal wave—fit for a sea monster's grand entrance—slammed into the bow. The impact sent buckets, dainty trunks, and sundry personal items skidding and screeching from one end of the room to the other. The shrill scraping of metal against wood joined the discordant orchestra, lending another layer of chaos to an environment already awash in sensory overload.

A knock at the door was heard before it slowly cracked open. A voice gently called out, "Miss? Are you alright?" In walked the familiar petite blond with a white apron cinched around her waist. Her eyes darted to where you stayed kneeling on the floor, curled over a bucket, trying to hold back from heaving up what little food you had been able to keep down so far.

"Oh dear, you poor thing. I knew this voyage would be trouble, especially with your seasickness." Mari helped guide you to sit up on the bed before wiping the sweat that had grown across the heat of your forehead with a rag dunked in a bowl of cool fresh water. "I didn't think it would be so rough when we're gaining distance from the storm's center. Are you sure we can trust this acquaintance of yours?"

Letting out a low, contented hum as the icy touch of the damp rag caressed your feverish forehead, taming wayward strands of hair that clung to moist skin. Head tilted back, eyes blissfully shut, you surrendered to Mari's nurturing touch as if each swipe of the cloth washed away a morsel of discomfort. "No, he is not someone to be trusted. I'm afraid turning back isn't an option, Mari. Since that storms appearance we’ve burned through almost all our emergency supplies. We’ve no money to speak of and nowhere to retreat to. Did the captain give any indication of how much longer this hellish ride will last—oh God!"

Even in so much discomfort and exhaustion your hand shot to a bucket tucked covertly under the bed, just in time for you to dry-have, retching into its emptiness. Mari's face crumpled in empathetic distaste, yet she remained steadfast, gathering your hair to prevent it from falling into the line of fire. "The captain assures us it'll only be a few more hours," she replied.

With a groan that seemed to echo the creaks of the ship, you withdrew your head from the foul-smelling bucket, collapsing onto the bed that swayed like a pendulum in sync with the ship's motion. "By gods, thank you for that news. Please, check on the others. From what I was hearing they might be faring even worse than me."

Mari bit her lower lip, a visible manifestation of her brewing concern. Sensing this, an eye cracked open, lips stretching into a warm, reassuring smile as you gently squeezed Mari’s arm. " You are too good to us, Mari, there is no one else we could hope to depend on. Please, they might need you more than me.”

At the encouraging nod, Mari pivoted gracefully and moved toward the door. Pausing on the threshold, her eyes lingered, bathed in the dim light of the room. "If you need anything, just holler, Miss." With that, she vanished into the dizzying corridor, momentarily losing her balance in the ship's wild sway. Bracing herself against the wall, she pressed on, intent on delivering the same vigilant care to the other ladies enduring this maritime ordeal.

Back in the sanctuary of your private chamber, starring at the ceiling, transfixed by the droplets of water that seeped through the holes in the timeworn deck above. Each droplet felt like a punctuation mark in the million thoughts that seemed to swirl repeatedly—a relentless reminder of your dire circumstances. Letting the right arm go limp, fingers loosely clutching the now lukewarm rag before letting it tumble to the floor. Your thoughts careened like a tempest, mirroring the chaos outside.

"We're in desperate need of help," the words murmured softly, as if verbalizing it might summon the assistance you so urgently required.

Shout Out To: @gingernut1314 @oddmawd @fanaticsnail @diabolicemerald @hey-august @lemony-snickers for being such amazing authors. All of you have given me inspiration and strength from reading and experiencing your creations to to able to spread my own wings. Thank you.

[marketfreshfics]

Loving him: Sebastian

image: @starrysallow | More in this series: Ominis | Garreth (WIP) | Andrew (WIP) Includes mild nsfw content

Your love for Sebastian was always apparent; looking back now, it was abundant.

It’s a duel more of wits than spells, and he is the worthy opponent you’d craved crossing wands with. He’s a clever one, you realized, challenging your abilities with cunning finesse, goading you with a sharp tongue. Though you best him, he’s a good sport, even offering to accompany you to Hogsmeade for an errand or two.

It’s noticing how the afternoon sun brings out red tones to his hair, how he tries to keep up though he’s the escort, a playful tug on the hood of your robe to keep in-step.

It’s a midnight rendezvous in the library’s restricted section, sneaking close to him under a shroud of disillusionment, a hand on his back for guidance, warmth bleeding through his shirt. A close encounter is prevented with a firm tug of your sleeve, hiding face to face with bated breaths, with hearts hammering both for the fear of being discovered and for the sudden proximity.

It’s sitting across from him the morning after, his freckled cheeks a wash of pink, eyes warm and reminiscent of the coffee you sip. The clamour of breakfast time is rendered mundane din, the rest of the world vignetted around him. You’d never considered seeing the world through a gaze of affection like this, having scoffed at fairytales that depicted such folly, but now you’re not so sure.

It’s in the damp of a cave, the must of a tomb, eager to explore the unknown on a path towards a paradox of dark enlightenment. A moment of uncertainty brings you pause, a question of morals, of what is truly forgivable, but those eyes hold more knowledge than you suspect and he asks you to trust him. And in that moment, you oblige.

It’s evenings spent on his down comforter, books scattered about, dozing on his leg until he finds a passage that piques your interest. And his calloused fingers brush the hair wisps from your face, the earthy smell of ancient parchment clinging to the salt of his skin. Eyes meet, and an exchange of words is not necessary.

It’s what gives passion heat, and heat is all you understand in his embrace. It’s those exquisitely resourceful hands everywhere, gripping, tugging, attempting to caress though he cannot soften this all-consuming need. Its limbs that tangle of their own volition, a bed frame that creaks when he thrusts, and lovemaking so ardent it pulls the sheet up from the mattress. There are no hesitations here, only desperations. There is no doubt, only certainty. He’s a fierce friend, but as a lover, he’s never been more determined.

It’s following him with little regard for your safety, little regard for other obligations. Your heart is a foolish compass and he is magnetic north, though he guides you anywhere but home.

It’s watching him raise the dead from soil, all pulled up like roots, and caught somewhere in the fragile seam of fear and fascination, in awe of the downright awful. You wonder, as he stands surrounded by idle Inferi like some prodigal child of darkness, if you’ve underestimated him all this time.

It’s realizing then, when he felled his own guardian, that your underestimations knew no bounds. It’s running after him as he flees, frightened of the implications, of the circumstances, of the blood staining his hands. It’s not cowering in fear of him, but the sympathy you are quick to offer wholeheartedly, providing gravity when his world turned to hang in the balance. It’s reasoning his innocence to the law itself, seeing his guilt, the shame spreading.

It’s picking up the pieces after the fallout, reconnecting the bridges burned, plank by patient plank. It’s watching him grow, and with you he develops an understanding of the dark to counter it with light. He sees the errors of his ways, the forks of his path that led him astray, and you regret not having the foresight to divert him elsewhere.

But then, he shows you his love. Dedicated and devoted, the bond you’d forged unbreakable, built on trust. It was always there, waiting.

It reassures you. And it’s everything you want.

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Imagines

Again

pairings: kim sunoo x reader

synopsis: kim sunoo had decisions he regrets before. and so when given a ‘second chance’ he made sure he won’t make the same mistakes again.

word count: 5k

warnings: contains yandere themes, curses and mention of murder.

note📎: i may or may not got carried away on writing this one. i didn’t know sunoo and the word yandere can fit so well. anyway, i hope you enjoy this one. let me know about your thoughts by sending asks to me. thank you and have a nice day/night 🤍

© 2023 eeunoia — all rights reserved.

“Sunoo, sweetheart.” his Mom greeted him as he enters their dinning area. He gave him a short glance then dropped a quick kiss at her head before heading towards his usual sit.

“Yeah?” he ask then the helpers attend to him right away, serving him his breakfast.

“Your doctor called me last night.” she starts and Sunoo draws a strained sigh before looking away from her. “She said that you didn’t visit again last saturday for your session. You’ve missed months of therapy.” she sounded so worried.

He didn’t say anything and just kept his eyes over his plate while his hand plays over his utensil.

“Are you drinking your meds?”

Sunoo sighed, starting to get annoyed with the continuous questions his Mom are throwing him. He tried to flash her a small smile despite the irritation before answering her.

“I am drinking my meds, Mom. Don’t worry.” he looked straight to her eyes so she can see that he’s sincere about it. “I will visit my doctor soon.”

She kept her worried stares at him for a while before finally nodding her head. The two of them then continued eating breakfast, diverting the topic about something else. Sunoo’s glad his Mom don’t pester him more about the stupid medications and sessions. He’s so done with it. Does his parents don’t trust him? Does he seem unwell for them? He’s fine. He’s perfectly fine.

“I’ll see you later for dinner, son.” she caress his cheeks and he just nods at her before they both go on separate vehicles.

Sunoo waved at his Mom’s car as her driver drove it out of their driveway. His smile fell the moment it disappeared out of his sight. He stood there for a bit more and just stared at nothing. He sighed then unlocked his black range rover to get inside.

While on the way, his mind went over to what his Mom was talking about. His doctor is such a snitch. He did made himself clear last 3 months ago that he won’t visit again. Why does she have to call his Mom? Now, she’s worried over nothing.

When he got hold by a redlight, he fished his phone then dialled his friend’s number. It rang two times before he answered.

“What’s up? Isn’t it too early for you to call?” Jake.

“Can you do something for me?” he ask straight to the point.

He heard him draws in a sigh, “Depends. What is it?”

“Get Doctor Cha fired for me. She’s getting in my nerves.” he said.

“Your psychiatrist?" he sounded so confused why he suddenly wants her fired.

“Mhm,” he hummed as answer and glanced at the traffic light when it turned green. He was about to step on it when the car behind him honked at him like crazy.

He looked over the side mirror and smirked with no humor. He drove and saw that the car was still behind him. Sunoo tries to focus on his friend while thinking of how to deal with the vehicle behind him. How dare that person honked at him using that ugly ass car.

“She called my Mom and now she’s pressuring me to go see that doctor again.” the bitterness over his tone was evident. Jake couldn’t help but to chuckle at what his friend said. He just can’t with Sunoo’s patience. He can get irritated too easily.

“All right, I’ll see what I can do.”

He decided to pull over to the side and Sunoo’s eyes followed the car when it overtake his car. He made sure to remember that plate number so he can take care of them later.

“Thanks, dude.”

“No problem.” and he ended the call.

His attention went over to his phone background. It was a picture of a smiling girl. Not just any girl. For Sunoo, she’s the prettiest out of all the girls he had ever met. Too bad, she left him.

His fist balled and jaw clenches as he carefully caress his thumb over his phone’s screen. “If only you’re here...” he mumbled softly, yet the hint of pain lingers in every word. “I wouldn’t need any of these. I would only need you.” he added.

Sunoo decided to stop over a café before he went to his class. Since the encounter a while ago stressed him a bit. He wouldn’t want to attend class with a bad mood. He needs to freshen up.

“Good day Sir, may I take your order?” the lady at the counter asks with a bright smile. Sunoo didn’t waste any time to say his order and he was asked to wait.

He tried to busy his phone while waiting on the line for his order. Minutes after, he heard his name being called by the cashier. He locked his phone then lifts his gaze to accept his order.

“Thank you.” he softly said then turned around.

“Oh my gosh!” you gasps when you suddenly bumped into someone because you’re in a hurry.

You are stoned in your position while looking at the mess you just did. The boy’s coffee is now all over his uniform. His head was hanging low, looking at his now stained polo. He cursed inside his mind and can feel his head turning hot.

He can’t believe it. ‘Can this day be any worst?’ Sunoo thought to himself. He pursed his lips tightly, trying to control his anger. He can still hear you mumbling incoherent words. It was obvious that you are panicking. Well, you should be.

“I am truly sorry!” your words snapped him back to reality. He slowly raised his head to look at you.

He was so ready to burst out his anger, but instead no words came out of his mouth. His heart stopped and his stares remained at your worried face. You are trying to get tissues from your bag as you start to catch the attention of some of the workers of the shop.

Sunoo’s mouth fell open at the sight in front of him. He couldn’t believe it. He’s out of words. He don’t know what to say or what to feel first. Is this even happening?

“H-Here, I have tissues. Oh my gosh, your shirt is stained..” you reached over his shirt and tried to even fix the mess you just caused.

“J-Jane?” your hand halt from what you were doing and you eyed the guy in front of you.

He have this unexplained look on his face. Like the look of being reunited with someone after a long time. You showed him an awkward smile.

“I’m s-sorry, but you must have got the wrong girl. My name is y/n.”

“Thank you so much, Sunoo! You don’t know how you just saved this day.” you gave him this warm smile. He pulled over in front of the gate of your school and smiled at you.

Your stomach churns at the sight of the handsome man beside you. He offered to give you a ride after knowing that you are very late for your class. It’s exams today so you couldn’t bear to be late. Thank God, Sunoo is so nice to help you even after you spilled his own drink over him.

“No problem. I’m glad I could help.” he said.

You nodded and quickly grabbed a pen and a paper to write your infos. He watched you silently then wait before you handed it to him.

‘Y/n.’ he read your name silently inside his mind. Below it is some of your social media accounts and number so he can contact you.

“I’m really sorry again for your shirt. You can pm me about the bill to get it cleaned. I will surely pay for it!” you said and unclasped the seatbelt.

“I told you, there’s no need for that.” he says that you quickly disagreed on.

“Please! You already saved me, at least let me treat you for lunch or something!”

His face lighten at your suggestion. “That I can’t say no.”

You beamed and pushed his door open. “That’s great! See you then!” and you left after sending him a small wave of good-bye.

Sunoo stayed for a moment and watched how you entered the school. His eyes are warm and he couldn’t stop himself to feel so happy. He felt excited and thrilled. A lot of things are going on inside his mind. Its a little overwhelming, but that doesn’t matter. What’s important is that he saw you. He found you, again. And he will never ever let you get away from him.

“Woah, what happened to you?” Sunoo threw a short glance over his friend when he walked closer and noticed his ruined shirt.

To his surprise, he isn’t in the bad mood like how he expects him to be. His friend knew how he hates it whenever his clothes gets dirty and just by the looks of it, someone must’ve spilled their drink over him. Sunoo wouldn’t let it pass easily. It needs a miracle for that person to be saved from his wrath.

“Hi.” Sunoo says in a light voice then tried to find a spare shirt inside his locker.

Jake blinked a couple of times and tilted his head over to the side. Totally confused.

“Hi? That’s all it? What happened to that?” referring to his awfully stained shirt.

“Oh! This? Y/n accidentally bumped onto me causing my drink to spill over my shirt.” he explains like it was nothing.

“And you’re okay with it?” Jake asked totally weirded about the fact that Sunoo was not going ballistic over it.

He nodded his head, a small smile present over his lips. Jake shakes his head.

“And who the fuck is y/n?” he’s now curious about this girl who made Sunoo act like this. This isn’t normal. She must have something to do with this.

Sunoo smiles wider when he found a new shirt. He pulls it out from his locker then smiled to his friend. “My Jane. She came back, Jake. She came back to me.”

Jake’s face instantly turned worried for his friend. He shut his eyes and sighed before tapping him over his shoulder.

“Sunoo, look man,” he starts. “Are you taking your meds?”

The smile over Sunoo’s lips disappeared and his eyes grew cold. “Why do everyone needs to be so annoying? I don’t need those stupid pills! Specially now that I have her back.”

He swat his hand away and start walking towards the comfort room. Sunoo even walks across with some of his friends but he ignored all of them then just proceeded on his way. Jake’s eyes follows his friend in total silence. He is very worried and concerned about his behavior.

“What was that? What happened to him?” Jay asked curiously. Sunghoon stood beside him silently, together with Ni-ki.

“He said he saw Jane.” Jake announced that made all of them furrow their brows in total confusion.

They all decided to just deal with it later on. The students were asked at the school auditorium for an emergency announcement. Sunoo was there when they all arrived and they go straight to him. He isn’t mad anymore and just smiled. Jake just tried to shrug what his friend said a while ago.

“I called all of you here because of a special announcement.” the principal spoke over the mic, catching everyone’s attention.

“Someone from our school went missing yesterday. I am asking for your help. The authorities will come to our school later on so if you have any leads about (girl’s name), then feel free to step in my office.”

Sunoo tries hard not to show any suspicious expressions then eyed Sunghoon. He’s looking at the stage. To the large picture printed by the girl’s family and friends. He was looking at it intensely. He taps his friend’s shoulder then leaned closer.

“So you did it, huh?” Sunoo whispers.

Sunghoon’s lips lifted a little before shrugging his shoulders off. “I’d like to watch them go crazy searching for her while she sleeps soundly at my basement.” he mumbles that made a soft chuckle out of Sunoo’s lips.

“I should ask you for advice. I could use some of it.” he said and your pretty face pops inside his mind.

Sunghoon pursed his lips and tilts his head over to the side. “Speaking of. Jake said you saw Jane?”

Sunoo nodded his head, eyes sparkling just by your name being mentioned.

“Well, her name is y/n. Don’t call her Jane anymore because it’ll upset her.” he draws in a sigh then leaned backwards. “I really think God brought her back to me because I’ve been very good the past few months. Don’t you think?” He glanced over his friend, waiting for his answer.

Sunghoon nods his head, “Probably. What’s your plan?”

Sunoo trailed his eyes back to the stage as the principal’s incoherent speech became their background. “Be her friend. This world is so dangerous, Hoon. She needs me around.”

Sunghoon snaps his head back to the stage as well as the best friend of (girl’s name) is now giving her speech. A small smirk plays through his lips.

“It is a dangerous world.”

“I’m sorry, were you waiting for so long?” you ask while settling your things at the vacant chair beside you.

Sunoo smiles, “No. I just arrived a few minutes before you.” he lied. He couldn’t wait to see you again and so he stalked you for a while then go here at the restaurant.

You let out a sigh of relief then smiled at him. “So what do you want to eat? My treat!” you sound excited and so he couldn’t help but to smile as well. You looked so adorable.

He slid a glass of water towards you, “I’ll order, but you should drink some water first. Its hot outside, you must’ve been tired from all that running.”

Your heart faltered at how caring he is. With a blushing cheeks you drink from the glass and the two of you ordered. The whole dinner was fun for you. He’s totally nice and well mannered. You can tell right away that he’s from a wealthy family. From how he dress and talks. Surely, he is well off.

You didn’t realized how long you two were together, but it seemed too short. The conversation just keeps on going. It was crazy how the two of you just clicks with each other. This may sound crazy, but its like he’s someone you met from before. You admit, you may have a little crush on him!

“Sunoo, huh?” your friend gave you this teasing smile while she put down her things at the table in the library.

Its been a whole week of meeting and spending time with Sunoo. It was going so well, that your friend took notice of how you’ve always been in a good mood ever since. You can’t help but to tell her about him.

“Yeah. He’s so great!”

She nodded her head and sat down. “Mhm. Kim Sunoo...” she trailed then furrowed her brows a little. “Why do I feel like I’ve heard that name before?”

You opened your textbook, “His parents are very wealthy so you must have heard his name from tv or read it on tabloids.”

She shrugged her shoulders off, “You’re probably right. Tell me more!” she sounded excited and a big smile crawled over your face before you started telling her stories about you and Sunoo. Your mission to study, now long forgotten.

”Bye, y/n!” your friend waved at you as you walk towards Sunoo. He’s leaning over his car while patiently waiting for you.

He glanced at your friend and she gave her a small wave. Sunoo smiled and nodded his head insincere. Your friend’s smile faltered a bit, sensing something about him. When you glanced at Sunoo, he smiled brightly then meet you half way to help you with your stuff.

He opened the door for you. Even if he did this a lot of times already, you couldn’t help but to blush every time.

“How’s your day, pretty?” he asks and buckles his seatbelt.

You smiled, “Good! We have a lot of things to study. Ugh I hate out biology teacher.” you ranted that made him chuckle.

“You’re doing so well. You deserve a treat. Ice cream?”

“You are really my savior.” you mumbled and leaned in to give him a kiss at his cheeks. It made him happy, very happy.

And that’s the start of your unexpected relationship with Sunoo. You don’t have a clue when you started to feel this comfortable and happy around him. It just did. Days, weeks and then a month passed by and he didn’t changed. He remained the same sweet and caring Kim Sunoo. You must admit, he totally got your trust. You are falling for him.

It may not be noticeable by you, but to your friend it is. This thing that’s going on with Sunoo and you is bothering her. Yes, she can see that you are happy and as your friend, of course she is happy for you. Its just, Kim Sunoo. There’s something with the way he looks at her whenever she hangs out together with you. She couldn’t point out what it is, but she’s uncomfortable about it. She sense that something’s wrong with him.

She did tried to mention this with you, but you get defensive about. Saying that he’s just shy around new people and etc. There even a time where you totally got pissed at her for talking nonsense. That rarely happens. You aren’t the type to be pissed at her over these things. For some reasons, she feels like Sunoo’s taking you away from her.

One day, when you got stuck over some school project and you have to stay behind late, you suddenly started to get followed by someone. You are very scared and started to panic. Your phone died hours ago already so you can’t use it to call anyone for help. It is also pretty late so there are no one on the streets.

You thought something bad will happen to you when thankfully, Sunoo appeared and save you. He hugged you tightly and mumbled comforting words to calm you down. You are a crying mess, but you feel relieved that he was there for you.

“What?!” you heard your friend exclaimed from the other line after you informed her about what happened.

You sniffed and watched over Sunoo who’s busy preparing a meal for you at your kitchen. A smile creeped over your lips.

“Yeah, thankfully Sunoo was there to save me.” you said that made her brows furrow in suspicion.

“Did you call for him?” she asks.

“No. I told you my phone died hours ago, mainly why I only called you now.”

That’s what she has to hear to confirm it that you didn’t have a phone to use to call him.

“Why is he there?” she ask the million-dollar question that’s been bothering her from the start.

“He was taking a walk.” you answered what Sunoo told you a while ago when you asked him the same question.

“At this time? Y/n he even lives far from your place! How come he is coincidentally walking over the street at that time of the night and bump into you?” clearly, things aren’t making any sense and you are too ignorant to understand it.

“I don’t know! Aren’t you just happy that he saved me and that I’m okay?” you’re starting to feel upset.

She sighed and shut her eyes. “Right. I’m sorry y/n. I was just really worried. I will just change and go there, okay?”

You pouted, “Okay.”

The moment you dropped the call, the thought didn’t left your best friend’s mind. She’s sure that something’s wrong him and she won’t just sit here and let you be in trouble.

She quickly opened her laptop and went to search for any useful information about Kim Sunoo. She had done this weeks ago, but she stopped because she feels like she’s betraying you for actually thinking ill of someone that makes you happy. But now, she knew she had to do this. She needs to dig more.

After searching and searching, she almost gave up but then one single article caught her eyes. It was almost impossible to find and have no attention. She clicked it and hand flew over her lips as she read the big letters of the letters of the article.

“Shit.” she mumbled and quickly grabbed her keys to go drive towards your place.

“You feeling all right?” he asks softly and you nodded your head with a small smile. He nodded and placed a gentle kiss at your forehead.

“Yes.”

You two stared at each other’s eyes, nobody dares to look away. You can feel your heart thumping fast, thousands of emotions occupying your chest. Having him this close to you just makes you feel safe.

You got pulled out of trance when you heard the doorbell rang. Both of you turns your head at the direction of it.

“That must be (friend’s name).” you told him.

He flashes you a smile. “Great. I’ll let her in then you two can talk here in your room while I do the dishes.” he says then pats your head before he go open the door for your friend.

When the door swings open, she’s not surprised to see Sunoo. He have this same smile over his lips that she can’t explain. She smiled back and tried to not act too obvious. “Hi! Thanks for safely getting her home. Where is she?” she asks.

Sunoo didn’t replied right away, but then opened the door wider for her. “At her room.” he finally said then lets her inside.

Her steps felt heavier as she go in the apartment. She gulped and smiled before saying that she will just go and talk to you.

Your friend closed your bedroom door right after she managed to get inside.

“Y/n, I need to tell you something.” she whispered and even roamed her eyes around anxiously.

Your brows furrowed, finding her actions a little weird.

“Why are you whispering?”

She shushed you and held both of your hands. “Listen, don’t freak out. You have to come with me. We have to leave.” she continued whispering.

“What? Why? What’s going on?” you are starting to feel anxious as well.

“Its dangerous here. I don’t have the time to explain, we just have to go leave. Now.” her tone sound so serious and you can see in her eyes that she’s really scared.

It made you worried too. You’ve never seen her this way before.

“Wait. Where’s Sunoo? Is he all right? We have to tell him!” you exclaimed worriedly and stood up to come and get him.

Your friend grabbed by your arm to stop you. “Stop! No! You don’t understand,” he said and made you stop completely.

“HE is the danger.”

You stared at her with a confused expression that slowly turned into an unamused one. You sighed, “This again? Really? How many times will I have to tell you? Sunoo is the one who saved me!”

You are slowly getting tired of her telling you that there’s something wrong with Sunoo. This is getting out of hand. She’s seriously trying to break you two apart. Sunoo was right. She doesn’t like him for you and now you are doing this stuff to make you hate him.

“No! I’m sure now! I have proof,” she said, eyes starting to water. She go through her phone’s galler to find a screenshot she just took.

You shoved her hold away and moved back, “Leave.”

Her eyes darted at you. “Y/n...” she starts and took a step closer. “Its him! He’s trying to make you believe that he’s a good guy, but he isn't! He’s doing this to manipulate you into hating me!” she burst out, can’t really hold it anymore.

You slowly shakes your head. Your heart is aching because of her doing all of these. You just wanted someone to be there for you all the time, to love and care for you. And she knows that. Then why would she do this to ruin everything?

“I said leave!” you screamed.

She wipes her tears and nodded her head. “Don’t tell me I didn’t warned you.” was her last words before she stormed out of your bedroom. You plopped down the floor and cried.

Your friend didn’t saw Sunoo when she walks out, but that’s the last of her concern. Her mind is a mess and her heart is aching because of your fight. When she went out of your apartment, her steps halted because Sunoo was leaning over the wall.

He pushed himself off and put his hands inside his pocket. Her chest hammered in fear. She knows how he can be dangerous. Right after she saw and read that article, she knew what he’s capable of.

He smiled, “I’d give it to you for trying.” he said, taunting.

A tear left her eye, “You won’t get away with this. Leave y/n alone!”

He sighed, “But how can I do that if that will break her heart? You don’t want your friend hurt, do you?”

She kept her glaring stares at him. His smile slowly disappeared and that made her heart fell.

“The only person who should leave her life is you.” and with that, someone from her back suddenly covers her mouth and nose. She tried to fight back, hitting whoever that is from behind, but they were too strong. She can slowly feel her body giving in, her consciousness leaving her.

The last thing she can remember was Sunoo going inside your apartment, then everything turned black.

On the other hand, your head snaps at the door when Sunoo enters your bedroom. You quickly stood up and hugged him.

“Shh, I’m here.” he mumbled softly then made you sit down at your bed.

You followed and he kneeled in front of you so he can see your face perfectly. He handed you a glass of water.

“Drink this so you can calm down.” you accepted it and drink all of it.

“I don’t u-understand what’s got into her! She kept on saying that you are a bad person and that you are dangerous! She said that you’re making me hate her so I’ll push her away. She said you don’t like her around me.” you continued ranting and ranting while he holds your hand.

He just watched you, gently caressing your hands and placing kisses at the back of it from time to time. He didn’t talk for awhile, only your cries can be heard around your bedroom.

“She’s right tho,” he started that caught you off-guard.

“W-What?” you asked, confused.

Sunoo smiled, his sweet and angelic smile.

“I don’t like her around you. In fact, I don’t like anyone to be near you. It should only be me. You’ll only need me, Y/n.” he said that made your heart pounding hard.

You slowly pulled your hand off from his hold.

“N-No... I d-don’t understand.” you mumbled and started to move away from him.

Suddenly, all of your friend's words flashes through your mind, regret coming after. It was too late to even realize things. Sunoo stood straight and watch you silently. He didn’t seem like he’s in panic, he just stared at you.

Slowly, you start to feel tired and sleepy. Then you remembered the water he made you drink. It was too late, but you stood up and tried to run away. Sunoo grabbed you by your arm, and you’re too weak to even fight him.

“Its all right, baby. Everything’s going to be alright.” he mumbles and placed a kiss at your forehead before you finally lose your consciousness.

“Son, what is it? Are you okay?” her Mother’s voice sounded so alarmed because he ringed him so suddenly.

Sunoo sighed, “Something happened and I need help.”

His Mom instantly felt worried and excused herself from the meeting before going in a secluded place.

“Oh God, Kim Sunoo! What did you do again? Tell me you didn’t—”

“Mom, don’t worry. Its not like that. I just need you to clean some things for me.”

His Mom was silent for a while and her heart is aching for her son. A lot of people may find her unbelievable if they knew what things she can do for him. Can they blame her? Its her son! Of course she would do anything for him. Even if it means to clean after his mess.

She sighed, “Okay. I’ll send some people to do the job.”

Sunoo smiled, “Thank you, Mom. I love you. I’ll talk to you later, my friends are here.” he said and turns his head to the side when they saw his friends pulling over in front of their vacation house.

“Where is she?” Jake asked and Sunoo pointed the room on the left. He sighed and went there to go check if she’s all right.

Ni-ki sat down at the sofa together with Jay and Sunghoon. Jungwon came inside with Heeseung, both of them have this worried look for their friend.

“Sunoo hyung, you shouldn’t act impulsively.” the younger one scolds him. He just rolled his eyes at it.

Heeseung sighed and taps his shoulder, “Please get a hold of yourself and don’t get too carried away again.”

“Yes, Heeseung hyung is right. Take it easy, dude.” Jay followed.

“Calm down, I got this. Now that I have this second chance, I wouldn’t waste it.” he said, assuring his friends that he’s totally all right.

“You better not go lose yourself again, Sunoo.” Sunghoon warned him, eyes glued over his phone.

Sunoo scoffed and glanced at the direction of the room you are in. A small smile spreads over his face.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill her this time. I won’t make the same mistake again that I’ve done before.” he said then glanced down at the phone he was holding. It was your friend’s phone and the photo of the article she took was flashing over it.

‘KIM SUNOO, HEIR OF THE KIM GROUP OF COMPANIES HAVE SAID TO BE THE SUSPECT FOR KILLING HIS OWN GIRLFRIEND, JANE CHOI.’ Read more...

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[slimybeth69]

Touch: Part 7

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary: Your future with Din seems bleak in the darkness of the ship, that is...until it's not so dark anymore.

Warnings: Consume at your own risk. No tags due to chapter spoilers. Non-spoiler disclaimer- Scenes from the Mandalorian season 3. The story arc diverts from canon, but it does follow the series pretty closely for a couple chapters.

wc: ~13k

a/n- sorry for another no tag/warning chapter. if you need to see a list of the potential things in here, refer back to the series masterlist to see what tags could be upsetting to you.

a/n pt 2: I try so hard to make sure that this is formatted correctly, and makes sense and flows well. I work on the dialogue a little bit-- and it's gonna have mistakes and maybe a spelling error. UNBETA'ED PROOFREAD BY TIRED EYES.

Sleep doesn't come to you easily that night. The only thing you can feel is the shattering of your heart- and it's turning into real, physical pain. It's like something alive and venomous crawled inside your stomach, and is twisting, stinging— biting you, as it moves all around, making you feel sick.

You wonder what Mando is doing now while you lay here all alone in the silence of your room— he probably is sitting in the cockpit, driving you right back to Cantonica. That's probably exactly what he did when he got up and left without a word! Turned the ship around so he could drop you off at Canto Bight Casino.

You could be a tender again, maybe a waitress too. Maybe your room in that woman's house was still available. You still had some credits saved up from before.

You'd be okay.

Everything was going to be just fine now that you didn't have to worry about Mando coming to ask to touch and watch, or put things inside you that weren't him- even though you've never stopped thinking about him, and those nights you shared together. They run through your mind at least once a day— sometimes more.

Mando won't bother you in the night to call you nice, sweet things, and to make your heart feel bigger and also lighter at the same time, somehow. Mando won't come to touch you and watch you and make between your legs feel things. too. Good things. Amazing things. 

Eventually, after every single tear left inside of you has been cried out, you drift off to sleep.

The heat that wakes you up isn't confined to just your upper arm like it had been the night you came home from the temple. It encapsulates you, it overtakes everything that you are, and you love it because it's familiar.

You hum, ignoring all the sadness and anger that had been inside of you just hours ago before your teary eyes closed for the last time that night.

Strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you in close. A calm, pacifying voice whispers, "You think I do not care for my little one?"

"You're mad at me," you murmur, pushing your body back against his as tightly as you can, savoring in all of this. "Gonna leave me," you almost whimper, stealing all of the warmth you can from him, even though it's almost too much.

Hands as hot as the sun roam across the supple, soft curves of your body through your clothing. It's hard to think about anything other than the way he feels pressed against you like this, the way that his fingers tease you, tugging the hem of your shirt just over the of soft, gentle curve of your stomach before his hands move to your thighs, or up over your chest to your neck.

He is all over you, and you feel drunk because of—Mando!

"Get out—" you huff, pushing his exploring hands off your eager and excited body. "-of my—"You've betrayed yourself at the hands of a trickster! A slithering sneak who slips into your bed under the veil of the void. "-bed!"

It's probably he fact that you're twisting and turning, pushing against him, and trying to get him out of your bed that brings an urgency to his explanations. Din grips both of your wrists in his hands, his fingers closing around them completely.

"Listen to me, please, pretty girl in her white dress," His soft whisper in your ear melt your spine into liquid that pools somewhere in the core of you. The words, and the way he says them so softly, smooth like the richest velvet you've ever felt, quell the rage inside of you. “You need to understand that I have to wear my helmet,but I would show you if it would tell you how much I care."

There is no inflection, or teasing in his voice. The Mandalorian is serious, and it makes your heart almost still completely in your chest.

“Mando—"

“If you call me Mando again," his voice growls in your ear, but he sounds almost hurt or offended, like he can't believe you're still calling him that. "Offers revoked."

Shit.

There isn't enough time for you to say anything else before he continues.

"I left earlier because I was upset with you…for being upset with me," he starts, his lips pressed to your ear tightly so he makes sure you can hear him. "I was selfish, I should have stayed here with you," he sighs, his breath plumes against the side of your face, and you inhale to take in the sweet scent of him, and it makes your head spin.

This isn't how you wanted this to happen! Din was supposed to show you his face because he wanted to, not because you guilt him into doing it!

The last two years you thought of all the ways you could get him to show you his face and now, you only want one way. For him to want to show you. Not because you made him feel badly for not showing you.

Maker!

“Din, you don’t have to show me— this isn't what I want.” There is hesitation in your voice because you're reluctant to say it, but it's the truth

Din stiffens behind you, his grip on your wrist goes slack, but his mouth stays pressed to your ear.

Everything in the ship is quiet besides him breathing quietly.

“You’re right, though. I should have shown you before I left, like I showed Grogu. I hoped the talk we had the night before was enough. You said you’d do it for free, and I thought…” Din trails off.

You hate when he does that. You never need to. All your thoughts are front and center at all times ready to be said fully at any given moment. And he’s always searching inside that head for something to say.

“I hoped the meaning behind me making Luke and Ahsoka let you stay was worth more than words," he breathes against the shell of your ear.

If you’re really thinking back on it right now in this bed…the man did wait two years for you. Beskar-man got you a pretty focus crystal, said he’d get you a lightsaber to put it in. Took you into his clan earlier…he’s never done that before.

He said he came to visit, and was denied entry.

Din only mirrored your reaction getting off the return ship to the hangar to see him. 

Shit.

"Why did you hope it would be enough?" It comes out a whisper, and croaked because of how dry your mouth is.

It feels like the ship hit turbulence, but really, it's just your body trembling— vibrating in anticipation.

What could he mean?

Din's breath grows shaky, like he might be just as scared as you. He starts to say something, but is so hesitant now, like maybe this was too scary, even for Din. 

There isn't a time that you can remember him being scared- not that you've seen at least.

"What if you don't like it— what if you don't like me?" He finally says, and the words stab you right in the heart. "Would you still… do all of this for free?"

Din releases your wrists from his grasp; you hadn't even realized he was still holding on to you because you had stopped fighting him the minute he asked. He places his hands on top of your shaking ones, and slips his fingers in the spots between yours.

Deep down you are kind of scared because…what if you don’t like it? 

What if he was warning you that first night about you doodles that he didn’t look the way that you thought? 

What if he puts that helmet on and never takes it off because what’s under it isn’t nice to look at?

What if the man who has been touching you, and being so good to you; who you think you could potentially be in love with…isn’t what you want to look at?

What do you do then?

Din can put that helmet back on all he wants, but you’ll know.

You’ll know, and you’ll never be able to un-know what his face looks like. 

Maker. Maker. Maker.You are a special star- you are. A sick star!

This is unfair. Absolute shit timing, and situation.

Putting you in this position to know? How dare Din, and Maker himself, do this to you!?

Even though this is all you want!

Just not like this!

Another part of you thinks that you couldn’t ever not care for the man who is under that helmet. Despite his looks, right? You’re not shallow, not really. As you think back on it right now, he’s done everything for you, and is willing to do the most everythingright now. By showing you his face.

How do the clans of Mand'alor work? What is their religion? Who are the people of that planet that had been destroyed so long ago?

Bathe in the living waters. What’s livingin the waters? Why does he have to wash himself in them?

You’re unsure. If it was explained in the cave— you blacked out for a minute looking at the nice sand. It felt like you had sand in your ears for most of the conversation.

It's no wonder you don’t know shit about fuck-all right now.

You stare at the wall in front of you, looking at all the rivets and welds that keep this giant, metal monstrosity together while it flies through the sky—

Hold on just one Maker-loving second! You can see things!?

There are all different shades of blue and purple and white filling the room. You tilt your head up and look out the windows, and all those colors are streaking past so quickly, it's all a blur. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You realize how fast you're moving when you look at it.

If you turned around right now…you'd be able to see Din. His voice has been non-modulated this whole time, his warm cheek and scratchy facial hair has been present against the side of your head since you woke up.

You shut your eyes so tight it almost hurts,

You flip around in Din’s arms, and pepper kisses across his entire face because you can. He's right here in your bed, and you can touch him, feel him, kiss him as much as you want- but you won't look.

You start speaking quickly, urgently— because you feel like such an ass, such a dumb idiot for because you were selfish. Everything he did for you, starting from the notebook, the credits to go to the market, the opportunity given to only you to train with the Jedi? How many others get that? The focus crystal?

He also could have completely kept you in the dark about all of this. Made you stay on the ship while the Armor lady Mandalorian reamed his ass out for taking off that stupid helmet.

Din didn't do that though, he gave you an opportunity to hear the truth and now, he's offering to show you his face.

“Din, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so ungrateful. I care for you so much- with the helmet. It’s enough. You’re enough with the helmet.” You keep your eyes shut tight–and you're glad you do, because you could cry again. You feel so foolish for not appreciating him more."

“Open your eyes, little one in the white dress. Please, before it’s too late and I have to put it back on again for good.” Din moves his face closer to you, the tip of his nose touching yours, his warm breath on your lips.

Din kisses you lightly, his lips are so soft, and so warm just like the rest of him. His hand gently presses into the small of your back.

“Is it going to change everything?” You mumble against his lips, worried.

You're worried everything’s going to be different. What does all this mean? You'll get to see his face once, and then never again? 

Do you get beskar’gam like Grogu did? Do you have to learn Mando’a? Because it’s hard! You hear Din speak it sometimes, and it sounds so hard to learn!

You don’t know anything, and you can’t find the strength in your lungs to make the words come out. What is going on? This is a dream. Has to be.

“I don’t want it to change. I want you to rest your head down at night knowing I care,” Din nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours gently. "Rest your head down on me at night— every night."

You exhale loudly—

"Were you holding your breath?" Din chuckles, and steals another quick kiss before you can say anything, or even react to what he said, “This way you know, you can stop wondering. You’d have something to think about besides the helmet.” Din’s voice is so soothing.

If your heart wasn’t about to speed out of your chest and hide somewhere else in the ship his voice could lull you to sleep.

“I willhave to leave again, like before, but I’ll ask you to come when it’s not too dangerous. I won’t keep you trapped here like before.” Din’s offering all you want. To be with him sometimes off the ship. To come with him.

“You want me to look?” You ask again.

This is really going to happen this is not a dream.

Din’s one-million-degree body lets you know that you're not still asleep. This is all really happening, and you’re going to see him for the first and probably last time. That’s okay with you.

Honestly, he could tell you he’s too nervous— and you’d say that you were too and you could both just go to sleep. Your heart, dear Maker, your heart is beating and pounding so fast, there is no way he cannot feel it pressed up against you like this. 

“Yes. Please look. I want you to see.” Din speaks so softly and so calmly and he doesn’t sound nervous or uncomfortable anymore. Just amazed to be here sharing this little bed with you. 

The calm quietness of the ship is ruined by screaming alarms. Loud ones. Bright, flashing lights fill the ship.

Everything inside of you feels like I could jump right out and lay beside you on the bed.

As fast as the alarms went off, you and Din start scrambling, limbs flailing. Your elbow connects with something hard, and then Din groans loudly.

"Did I!?" You exclaim, already knowing what you've done.

You clamor out of the bed Din is already standing beside, and has his hands covering his nose and most of face.

But you can see his eyes, and they’re dark and perfect—and he’s bleeding.

Fuck.

Everything is so loud, it feels impossible even form one single helpful thought with the alarms going off, you just stand there looking dumbstruck.

Din runs out of the room with blood dripping from his hands and elbows leaving little droplets on the ground.  You run into the main hull and look for some sort of first aid kit to help the man whose nose you just probably broke, but you see nothing.

The hallway back to your room is flashing red and white over and over and you think you’re going to pass out. It’s so fucking loud.

There is blood dripping all down the hall to where Din took off, probably the cockpit.

The kid is wailingfrom his room and now you’re on the verge of tears too. Grogu can wait. You need to clean up this blood first. You forget where everything is on the ship, your memory embarrasses you while you try to remember how to clean something up. You’re not thinking clearly. It’s so loud and so overwhelming. Oh, Maker. 

The alarms and the lights stop, and finally there is some semblance of calm.

It's so much easier to think clearly when the ship isn't screaming at you. Cleaning supplies are in the dining area, under the sink.

The drops of blood are focused mainly in the sleeping quarters. You can think again. You start to grab everything you need and start the job of cleaning the mess.

The whole ship rumbles enough rock you from side to side gently, and you hear the hydraulics of an opening door below you. There must be a carrier down there, but you're not completely sure.

There wasn't much Din wasn't willing to show you, but he said one door in this new ship was off limits to Grogu and you- while you were still angry with him- so you didn't even question him.

Where is Din going though? Why didn’t he come say goodbye?

Cleaning the little droplets of blood that start in the bedroom next to your bed, you work you way out into the hallway.

While you're cleaning, your mind races with what happened in the bedroom just a couple minutes ago. With everything that happened between him asking you to look, and right now, it feels like a lifetime has passed.

Din Djarin- the mystery man with a helmet and a secret face. A secret life that you know nothing about, as much as you wished you knew, Din doesn't talk about his life.

There hadn't been much for you to share about your life, either. So, the both of you had just fallen into a routine of being comfortable in each other's presence, touching and talking about easy things.

Grogu has stopped crying, but you’ll still go check on him in a minute. It’s just too much with the blood and the kid and the bleeding man. 

As you stand up Din rounds the corner in his full beskar minus his gloves—

With a woman…who is also in beskar. Her armor is nowhere near as loose fitting as Din’s, and doesn’t leave anythingto the imagination. She is beautiful with shoulder length red hair, and perfect lips that fit her face so well. She's a couple inches taller than you, but most of the people in beskar you've met are larger than you in some way.

“This is Bo-Katan.” Din's rasp cuts through the awkward silence that fills the ship. “I need to go with her for a while, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Then we will go to Nevarro. I’ve already turned the autopilot on so we’ll be closer when I get back. I won’t be long.”

Your eyes flick between Din and this woman, Bo-Katan. “Okay…” You force an uncomfortable, and awkward smile. Suddenly, you feel very exposed in only your nightgown. “Have…fun…okay.” You turn and walk into Grogu’s room and try to shut the door.

There isn’t enough space for you, and you have to stand on his little tiny bed to shut it. Now you’re standing on your tip toes, feet angled and shifting so they don’t step on the baby - who is now staring up at you, confused as to why you're in here, and possibly how. You don’t know how you got in here, either.

You’re pretty sure this is a broom closet that Din put a little tiny bed in.

Oh Maker.

Din and a woman? Out in the galaxy together? Alone? Doing what exactly? He didn’t explain.

You scoop the child into your arms and open the door, peering out into the hallway.

It's empty, so you take this opportunity to scurry down the hall towards the room you and Din share.

Bo-Katan comes out of one of the weapons rooms as you try and sneak by, and slam right into her.

Grogu makes an annoyed, sleepy warble and curls up into your arms.

“I’m so sorry," you apologize and hold your hand out and it lands right on her left tit. You stare at your hand on her breast for several seconds before removing it. “I’m so sorry about that, too.” You look at her. Your lips pressed tightly together. “I’m so sorry. I just woke up.” You lie and purse your lips again and point past her to the room one door past the weapons room. “That’s my room," talking for no reason is what you're doing.

You also just touched her boob.

Which is exactly what Din was probably running off to do with her in the night!!

“It’s okay. Don’t be sorry, I’m the one who crashed your slumber party.” She winks at you. She’s so pretty. Her pretty red hair and her perfectly shaped lips. You’ll have to ask Din later if she’s a good kisser or not.

Humph.

You hate Bo-Katan— Not really. She was wonderful– but why did she wink at you?

Why is Miss Pretty red hair and perfect lips here in the night winking at you? Because she can come in whenever in the night and steal Din right from under you?

Because she sure did. Stole him right out of your bed and made you possibly break his nose. She made you miss your opportunity to see the lower half of his face. 

“Where’s your helmet?”You blurt the question out suspiciously before you can even stop yourself from thinking about asking her. You just noticed that she had perfect hair and pretty lips and now, you’re just saying the first thing that comes to your head apparently. It just came out all fast and dumb, you couldn’t even control it. “I’m so sorry, again. That was so rude.” You’re so embarrassed. Could just crawl right into any one of these nameless holes in this ship and die kind of embarrassed. You’re here blurting out questions to the beautiful Bo-Katan in your nightgown that you realize now has some blood on it. Shit. 

“No, it’s okay! Don’t be sorry.” She shakes her head and puts a gloved hand on your shoulder. You look down at it and she removes it slowly but you wish she hadn’t. She was so gentle and small and felt nice. “I’m not from the same clan as Mando. We just bear different religions and ideas. I don’t have to sport mine all the time.” Bo-Katan winks at you again! Why is she winking at you!? “Our ideals aren’t as severe and old-fashioned as his.” 

Din himself comes from around the corner as she says this as you flick your head to him. He looks between the two of you and Grogu who has passed out again in your arms. 

“I’m sleeping with him tonight.” You say for no reason. Din nods and puts his second glove on. “I’ll see you…soon?” Din nods again and presses his forehead to yours, one hand on the back of your neck. He holds you there.

See this Bo? Hmm? Do ya? 

Din lets you go and rambles off the list. 

“Be safe. Don’t let anyone on. Don’t get off. I’ll be back tonight. Soon. Hopefully.” Din nods and then looks down at Bo-Katan. She is still looking at you, smiling softly. 

“I’ll make sure he gets back to you. Don’t fret.” You wait for her to wink again but she doesn’t this time. She puts another gentle hand on your shoulder; as if she’s trying to comfort you? Maybe she feels bad for you? Because she's about to go touch him like you do!? What is happening? Din gave youforehead touches, which you assume is a sign of affection from him to you when he can’t take his helmet off. You like it. 

Bo-Katan…and her helmet-less head. Who is this woman? How does Din know her? She’s an associateof his. You wonder how oftenand how wellthey’ve been associated.She was nice to you though. And gave you a gentle touch. 

Are you…touch starved?

The thought starts racing through your head as they walk down the hallway.

Why did her touch feel so good? So comforting. And that’s dumb because Din waited two years– Did Din wait for two years? Oh, my Maker. Was this a woman who he had been gallivanting around the stars with while his paid babysitter and touch womanwas indisposed? 

No. 

That didn’t happen. Nope. Not even a little bit. is just someone Din knows. Din can know people. You know people. You know Luke and Ahsoka. And Grogu. And some kids from the temple. And that guy from the sweets shop in the Outdoors Market or whatever it was called. Hmph. You had friends too. Din’s not the only one with friends. Hmph. 

You look around the room that’s still being streaked in all the pretty colors and you take all the blankets and lay them out on the floor. You lay Grogu down next to you and his eyes open. He makes a fascinated, intrigued warbling sound. 

“I know. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You whisper down to him.

He holds your index finger in his three little claws while you watch the stars pass by.

“Well...you’ve seen Din’s eyes, right?” You lift your head to look at Grogu and he coos softly. “Yeah, so those are the most beautiful, and then this is a close second.” You explain quietly.

The baby makes a sound like he could be agreeing with you.

“I know. They are so dark. And his forehead, Grogu.  And his hair. It was so curly and messy and dark.” You start listing off all the things you saw on Din’s face to Grogu who listens happily.

Grogu makes a shocked warble sound that stops you from your rambling list of things you saw.

"He does have a beard. I saw it tonight!" You exclaim. "When was the last time you saw his face? So long ago, it was. I saw him tonight, little green child," you taunt him.

Grogu blinks up at you silently.

"I don't mean to rub it in, I'm sorry," you cradle him to your side and press a kiss to the top of his head. "I just really can't believe it."

You look out the window and sigh. “Do you know Bo-Katan?” You ask the baby who can’t really answer you. He warbles softly. “Is she a good lady? Is she nice and trustworthy? She’ll keep him safe for us?” You look at Grogu again, but he’s asleep next to you. Fell asleep listening to your voice. 

You love Grogu. A real love. Dying for this child would be something you’d do easily. If you knew it would protect him. Grogu snuggles into you as you tuck him into the blankets and snuggle in yourself. It’s hard on the floor. It reminds you of the Crest and your mat. It makes you think of the first time Din ever touched you in the dark.

Sleep comes to you with all the blues and purples streaking overhead. 

“Little one..." Din's calm and quiet voice whispers in your ear as you feel him climb into the makeshift bed on the floor. “It’s me.” He sinks beside you and rests his head on your chest. “Touch my hair.” More quiet, non-modulated whispering.

You bring one hand sleepily to his messy, dark curls and twirl your fingers in it mindlessly. Din sighs, and relaxes against you. The child is still on the other side of you asleep. You’ve got your other arm wrapped around him.

“Is your nose okay?” You whisper to Din through a yawn. “Did I break it?” You try to sound apologetic in your sleepiness because you do feel bad. You never want to hurt Din.

Unless he’s trying to spar or fight you.

He had been being so sweet and trying to show you his face, and you hit him all because of Bo-Katan. 

“It’s fine.” Din murmurs from your chest, like he could be falling asleep. “Not broken.” A sigh and he’s got one hand on your stomach, touching your belly button under the blankets, tracing around it slowly. “W-Want to see?” You feel his body shake softly like he’s laughing.

The weight of his head lifts from your chest. You tilt your head and Din is looking up at you. He’s got one black eye and there’s blood still crusted under one nostril. You laugh at him and let your head fall back to the pillows. 

“Are you sure it’s not broken?” You smirk, your hands still in his hair. “You’re so handsome, even with the black eye and the blood.”

Din chuckles and pulls you into him by your waist, “C’mere.”

You make him rest his head back on your chest and continue to spin his hair in your fingers. You think of his face and how you just saw it and it felt so much more natural and exactly how you had wanted him to show you. Casual. Din cares. You can feel it in your heart now. “Perfect and beautiful.” You whisper into the blue-tinted darkness. “You are.” You wait for a response but Din’s already asleep on your chest. 

The next morning, Din pulls the hood over your head and covers Grogu with your robes. The child is sitting comfortably in his little bag that’s slung over your shoulder. You watch Din’s helmet as he focuses. 

“Am I going to hear any news that might upset me?” You smirk up at him as he clasps the robe closed around your neck with a small metal pin. His helmet snaps up and you can feel his eyes on you. His perfect dark eyes. 

“Stop that.” Din presses his forehead to yours. “No. Maybe. I don’t know?” He sighs, “You can’t get angry with me anymore. It’s the rules.” Then he shrugs his shoulders like he has no say in the matter. 

“You make the rules!” You exclaim.

Din nods down at you as he pulls away. “So follow them. Listen to me. Stay close.” Din rattles off more instructions as you walk down the ramp together.

This planet is nice. It’s got a nice town center and Din leads you down a stone pathway.

“Don’t stray, please.” His gloved hand reaches out for you as you take a couple of steps forward.

It’s been such a long time since you’ve been in a place with so many things, places and people to look at, it's hard to not be overwhelmed and want to explore. The city looks like it's in the process of being rebuilt, buildings are in the process of rising higher into the sky

“This is Nevarro?” You ask, looking up at Din as he looks around in the crowds.

He nods and keeps his head swiveling back and forth, observing. "It used to be a hub for pirates and the Bounty Hunter Guild, but the High Magistrate is trying to change that now." He leads you to a droid statue that’s standing tall in the center of town. "Make it nicer for the citizens that live here."

"That's very nice of the High Magistrate," you continue to watch the people walking by, and the buildings and shops that line the street.

“He’s what we came here for.” Din points at the nonoperational droid now in front of you. 

“What’d you need him for?” You raise an eyebrow and shield your eyes from the sun as you look up at the droid Din pointed to. “He’s a statue.” You point that part out to him.

Din tilts his head down to you. It’s almost like you can sense that his patience with you is worn thin already. You smile regardless, because you've seen his face, and he wouldn't show his face to just anyone. It brings you a sense of pride to know that he trusts you, cares for you enough to have let you see him like that.

and bring your hand back to your side. It slips into your robe and you rub your fingers along Grogu’s ears. He gives you a satisfied sound of enjoyment as you do. 

“Where are we going now?” You ask Din excitedly as he leads you into the crowd. His strong hand finds your upper arm and he holds you close to him. “Are we going somewhere nice? Ooh! Somewhere we can get food!?” You exclaim, seeing a bakery. “Din. Din. Din. Din.” You point to the tarts and sweets in the window excitedly.

Din pushes you past the bakery, obviously in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Okay… But I want to go there before we leave.” You look back at it over your shoulder. It’s been so long since you’ve had anything that wasn’t a bowl of broth or rations. 

“Fine. We have to be somewhere now though.” Din continues to lead you through the crowd. You catch people's eyes and smile at them politely. It’s nice to be out in the world again. Not on a ship caring for a child or in a Jedi temple getting whacked with sticks. It feels good to be integrated with the galaxy again. Not just looking at it through windows. 

“Mando!” A voice calls out from behind you. You and Din both spin around. “I heard you were back, but I didn’t believe it.” The man in gold and red robes booms as he walks towards you. 

“Magistrate Karga.” Din rasps from behind the modulator. Your eyes look up to Din as he talks. You’re unsure if he likes this person yet.

“That’s High Magistrate to you.” The man laughs and slaps Din on the shoulder. 

“My aliit.” Din speaks a word of Mando’a that you’re not familiar with as he gestures to you. You’ll ask later. Grogu peeks out from behind the robe as the four of you walk into the building Din had been leading you to before the Magistrate stopped you.

Din walks with Karga up the stairs and they speak quietly to one another. You follow with Grogu still behind your robes. They lead you into a large room with a giant balcony. The High Magistrate motions for you and Grogu to sit in the chair behind his desk as he and Din walk outside the doors and look over the city.

Grogu climbs out of the bag and sits in your lap. You’re suddenly being spun around slowly. You see Grogu holding his little hand out. You try to stop him, push his hand down into his lap or something but your chair is still spinning. You put your feet down onto the floor to try and halt yourself but you just end up kicking a metal trash can from under the desk with a loud crash. 

The chair slows down and when it finally stops, Din and the Magistrate are staring at you. Grogu’s head won’t stop turning from side to side like he is still moving. You’re still dizzy, if we’re being completely honest. The room is still moving in your eyes and you just smile at Din and Karga. Holding Grogu in your lap. The trash can is still spinning beside you. 

“Sorry. It’s hard to stop him when he’s focused on something.” It comes out stuttered and nervous. “He’s just…bein’ a kid.” You pet the top of Grogu’s head softly and he makes a purring warble you’ve never heard before. You look down at him and he’s chewing on something from the Magistrates desk. “I am…so sorry.” You press your lips together tightly and attempt to take whatever the child has in his mouth away from him but he holds on tight. “Do not...embarrass me.” You whisper into his ear and pull– what you come to find is a tracking beacon– out of his mouth and set it back onto the desk in a puddle of slimy saliva. “So so sorry.” 

Din hasn’t moved, or stopped looking in your direction once since he and Karga turned around.

The Magistrate looks at you up and down and then at the child in your lap. “...as I was saying… There’s a lot of money to be made on Nevarro. Set you and your group up in a nice tract over by the hot springs.” Karga points out over the small town and out onto the edge of the city. “You, the woman, the child. Hang up your blasters. Live off the fat of the land.” 

Is that why Din brought you here? To settle down? You’d have absolutely no issues with that at all. Being Din’s woman and Grogu’s mother doesn’t sound half bad. Sounds all good, actually. You see nothing wrong with this and love that Din brought you here to live with him. He’s so smart. Take his helmet off, settle down. You can try to bake tarts and sweets and breads like in the shoppe you passed earlier. 

“Grogu.” Din says curtly.

Karga looks at him oddly and then flicks his eyes at you. “Huh?” The Magistrate looks you up and down again like he can’t believe that’s your name. 

“His name is Grogu.” Din turns again and walks to you, taking the child out of your arms; leaving you just sitting in that nice comfy, spinning chair. All alone. Din walks back to Karga and holds him up. “Grogu.”

Karga curls a lip lightly and looks back at you once more before turning back to the town below him. “If you say so,” he doesn’t sound amused. “Like I said, there is a beautiful parcel down by the flats.” 

“I appreciate the offer, but I have matters to attend to.” Din explains, less curt and more in his normal, raspy soft tone.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. It was too good to be true. You knew it deep down inside you wouldn’t be staying here. Even if you do want to bake tarts and sew Grogu new robes in a nice little house with a yard to play in. 

“Oh? I’m…confused. I thought your mission was over, but you’re still with the chi—Grogu, and the woman I've heard about. They're still with you.” Karga waves a hand at you like you’re not there.

You sit quietly and watch, just happy to be involved. Happy to not be stuck on the ship, so they can talk about you like you're not here— because you could not be here. And you don't want it to go back to that.

“I completed my quest. My aliit returned to me. I removed my helmet and now I’m an apostate.” Your head turns to Din now, looking at him now instead of Karga. 

“All the more reason for you to stay here. Where you come from, you may be an apostate but here…but here you’d be landed gentry.” The Magistrate explains to Din as he looks down from the balcony. 

Karga is right and Din should listen to him. Stay here, on Nevarro. Din can watch as you bake him tarts and play with Grogu. It’ll be perfect. 

The door to the room opens and a droid walks in. Karga groans at the intrusion and lets his head fall back in frustration. The droid explains that there are pirates in the courtyard.

You stand but Din puts his hand on your shoulder and hands Grogu back to you. 

“Stay here. Don’t move.” Din sits you back down in your chair with the child.

You humph quietly, and are left alone in the High Magistrate's office.

There is a commotion down below the balcony right outside. You go to look because Din isn’t here to tell you not to. The balcony isn’t high, maybe three or four stories up. The wind blows the hood of your head as you peek over. You’re watching as Karga and Din walk side by side down the road in the center of the courtyard. They stop at a group of mismatched pirates outside of a building. You can’t hear what they say. 

Karga steps in front of Din and begins to speak to the pirates. Just talking. Din leans against a tree a couple of feet back from him and watches. They just talk for a while. Nothing crazy and then the pirate Karga has all his attention on; walks out into the street with his hands held out down to his sides. He speaks. You wish you could hear what he was saying. Din pushes himself off the tree he’s leaning against and takes two steps forward as the pirate talks to the High Magistrate. You swallow hard as Karga pulls his red and gold robes back away from his hip. You can see the blaster pistol strapped to his thigh even from all the way up here on the balcony. 

It’s so tense. People run past them on the street below you, a woman shouts for her kids to come inside. You swallow hard again as your free hand– the one not holding Grogu to your chest for dear life– grips the stone railing of the balcony. Everyone below looks like they’re frozen in place they’re still for so long. Your heart is pounding in your throat and then it happens. They both reach for their pistols but High Magistrate Karga is faster and unholsters his weapon, aims, and shoots all before the pirate can get his pistol up to his chest. Karga disarms him; shooting the blaster pistol right out of his hand. You let out a long sigh of relief as you can hear Karga say loudly enough,

“Tell Capitan Gorian Shard that Nevarro is no longer friendly to pirates. Now get outta here.” 

There is no movement from anyone below you. It makes your heart almost beat so fast you can’t feel it. Din moves his hand slowly to the blaster pistol on his waist and you hold your breath as you know what’s about to come. It happens so fast that you almost miss it when you blink. The rest of the pirates withdraw their weapons but Karga already has his own pistol out and Din had been fingering the trigger on his for at least thirty seconds before the pirates even reached to draw. Every single one of the pirates fell to the street except for the one Karga had disarmed first. The one he had been speaking to originally. 

The High Magistrate speaks again but you can’t hear him anymore. The pirate takes off running down the stone-laid street in the opposite direction. Din turns his head and sees you on the balcony. You wiggle your fingers at him from way up in the air and turn around, back into the office you were left in.

You set Grogu down in the chair and watch as he picks up little orange pieces of candy from a bowl on the desk and brings them to his mouth with the Force. 

“You cheat. You’re a cheater.” You say to him as you grab yourself a handful of candy and begin to pace, tossing them into your mouth as you think. They crunch delightfully between your teeth with a sugary coating and then the inside is fruity and chewy– you need to find out where the High Magistrate got these– they’re phenomenal. 

Din’s not taking any offer of land on Nevarro. It makes you sad but you enjoy your time on the ship. That’s your home, even if it doesn’t really feel like one. You live there, make memories there. Watch the child learn new things. You learn new things too. Inside the ship, you learn about Din. He wants to teach you how to pilot. You’ve seen his face even if it was all beaten and bloody by your elbow. Maybe Nevarro isn’t where you’re supposed to settle down if that was ever even an option. You don’t know.

You also need to learn more Mando’a. What had Din said to Karga and did Karga even know what he called you?

Grogu ate all of the candy out of the bowl on Karga’s desk. You may have helped- it was too good. You just kept scooping up handfuls and handfuls mindlessly as you paced his office. Grogu watched you from his place in the chair. 

“What did Din come here for? Did he tell you? I think he tells you more than he tells me.”

Grogu watches as you stand in front of the desk and talk to him.

“What does he need a broken-down droid for anyway? From what I can remember him saying long ago, he doesn't like droids...or they don't like him...or something about a dislike between Din Djarin and droids?” You rest your hands on the desk and lean into Grogu. “C’mon, kid... you've gotta give me something! Anything! What are we doin-”

The door to the office opens and you snap up, taking your hands off the desk. You bring them back up behind you and turn to see Din and High Magistrate Karga walking in. 

“Sorry about that, Mrs…” Karga looks at you and then glances back at Din, who says nothing to correct him. “Mrs.” He finishes. “Just had a couple of things to take care of.” He smiles at you apologetically for leaving you here in his office. You shake your head and take a small step to the left, showing him the empty bowl where candy used to be.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. Grogu ate all your candy.” It’s a lie. You ate it all. You couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Oh, it’s easy to get. They have it in stock down at the shop on the main road. I’ll send a droid to get more. Don’t worry.” Karga smiles at you, taking a couple of steps towards you. “Miss. Mando, it was a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard plenty about how exceptional you are with the ch-with Grogu while Din is away. Impressive. He’s a handful from what I can remember.” Karga is an attractive man, older with a dark complexion. His facial hair is white and contrasts beautifully against his skin. 

“Thank you.” You can feel yourself blushing for all different sorts of reasons. “He’s definitely a lot. Fun though. And a good bug catcher if I ever need one.” You smile up at Karga as he places a hand on your shoulder. 

“Don’t let Mando keep you out in the stars too long. Try to get him to accept my offer once he’s done with whatever matters he’s attending to.” It’s said quietly as if Karga didn’t want Din to hear him say that to you. Doesn’t matter, Din’s clearing his throat because he did. 

“Those service droids should have brought IG-11 in now, yes?” Din asks, walking to Grogu. He picks him up and cradles him in the crook of his elbow. Karga nods and keeps his hand on your shoulder as he leads you down the stairs. 

“I offered him the marshall position here in Nevarro.” The High Magistrate explains, again hushed as Grogu and Din follow behind. “If you can get him to change his mind, I’d also have a job for you here. There is plenty that needs to be done. You wouldn't be forgotten about, Miss. Mando.” 

Karga takes his hand from your shoulder and leads you all into a room. The top half of the droid statue Din showed you earlier is lying on a slab of metal in the center of the room. 

“Huh.” You look back at Din as he hands you the child. “You’re gonna fix it?” Din nods. You watch Din start pulling on wires, and removing things from the inoperative droid. “We need a droid I trust to help us explore Mandalore. This is that droid.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. We. Us. Mandalore. What’s he talking about?

“There. He’s hooked up to power.” Din says as you hold the child in your arms next to him. “Let’s see if we can wake him up.”

“Isn’t this an assassin droid?” Nervously, you look up at Din. He nods. “What are we doing with it then?” 

“Before I met you he was the one who took care of the child.” Din explains. He presses two wires together but nothing happens. You watch the droid's head and wait for movement, holding Grogu against you tightly. Nothing. 

“There you go.” Karga laughs and points to the droids pinchers at the end of his arms. 

“S-subparagraph sixteen-teen-teen of the B-B-Bondsman G-Guild p-protocal waiver.” IG-11 stutters as it sits up, its head twisting and turning right to you and Grogu. “Immediately p-produce said…” You look at Din with worry in your eyes as you turn the child away from the droid. IG-11 reaches for Grogu and you turn further away from it. “That b-b-bounty is mine.” You’re taking steps back but the droid has fallen off the slab and to the floor and is now crawling towards you. “Terminate asset. Terminate asset.” It’s repeating itself over and over. Now Din is shooting at it with his blaster pistol but it does nothing to stop the attacker directly in front of you.

“Miss. Mando!” Karga calls out as IG-11 reaches for and clasps around your ankle. It’s squeezing so tightly you’re sure it’s going to break your bones. It’s happening so fast. Karga holds his hands out and you toss Grogu to him. The droid immediately lets go of your ankle and starts crawling towards Karga with determination.

“Terminate asset.” IG-11 repeats over and over.

“Shoot it!” You shout at Din who is already shooting at it. The droid is about to pass under a large bust of High Magistrate Karga. Another droid, not IG-11 pushes the bust off the pillar it’s resting on and it falls onto the head of IG. 

“That’s one way to use your head.”

You stand next to Din with Grogu in your arms. You’re watching the Anzellans work on IG-11. Your ankle still hurts and you’re sure it’s probably already bruised. The little creature in front of you starts to talk in his native language. You understand everything and nod your head, pursing your lips together. 

“Huh.” You keep nodding.

“Uh…okay. I don’t understand. Do you speak Huttese?” Din shifts uncomfortably next to you. You look up at him with raised eyebrows.

“He said it broke.” You motion to the small creature who is still talking intermittently with the other Anzellans. You nod as you listen to them carefully.

“That’s no good. I need this one. This one is my friend.” Din speaks slowly to the creatures working on the droid so they’ll understand him.

“Mhm. Yeah…Okay.” You keep listening to the little creature speak. “Yeah. No. The memory circuit is busted. He said this droid is not your friend anymore.” You look up at Din. 

“How do you know what he’s saying?” He asks curiously. “Tell him to put in a new one.”

“I learned things while on Canto Bight.” You turn your nose up at him. “I know things.” You look back at the little creature and smile. You ask very nicely if he can put in a new memory circuit. The little man speaks up to you quickly. “Mhm.. really? Okay. Okay. No? Ohhhhh, okay.” You look back at Din and shake your head. “Not happening. The part you need is too hard to find. They don’t make them anymore. He said to buy a new droid. This one is…” You look back at the Anzellan in front of you and raise an eyebrow. He mutters something and you nod. “Poodoo.”You nod at Din. 

“Can they fix him without the memory circuit?” Din’s annoyed. The little creature pipes up now so Din can hear him. 

“Yeah. IG no think. No think.” His little accent is so cute. Din sighs.

“What if I bring you the part?” Din looks back at the little creature. 

“Oh. Then no problem. We fix.” The little man looks up at Din and says it so he can understand. 

“He said he can-” You start but Din shoots you a look. Grogu throws one of the Anzellan's wrenches across the room. He must have picked it up when you leaned over to listen and translate for Din. 

“I’m so sorry about that.” You apologize and reach for the wrench but Grogu grabs a chain hanging from the ceiling and pulls it as you walk by. It rattles loudly and something from above falls down to the ground. The Anzellans start to mutter again in their own language. “No. No. He’s not a pet. He’s a baby. He’s just young!” Now all the little creatures surround you as Grogu looks down at them from your arms. 

“Bad baby.” One of the little creatures says. Grogu throws another wrench you didn’t even know he had down at the creatures. They all scream and go running. 

“Yeah, he’s  a bad baby!” You growl down at Grogu who is still watching the Anzellans scatter down by your feet. “So bad.” 

Grogu is back in his bag. You have a bag of orange candy in one hand and a box of baked goods in the other hand. 

“Aren’t you so glad we stopped? They had those tarts! The same one from the market so long ago.” You look up at Din who is focused on getting you back into the ship. Din shakes his head and sighs. 

“Are you glad we stopped?” He looks down at you, one hand on your lower back as he gently pushes you through the crowd. You nod happily and lead him back to the ship. “Then I’m glad. C’mon. Speed up a little.” Din pushes his hand into your back and steps directly behind you. One gloved hand slides down and cups your ass while you're walking. It makes you blush. 

“What are you doing?” You whisper. Din doesn’t say anything, just gives your ass a nice squeeze or two before his hand moves to your back again. “Do it again.” You look around to see if anyone’s watching but no one is looking at you. Din slides his hand back down to your cheek, gripping it tightly as he presses his chest into your back. 

“Being bad.” He rasps into your ear as he continues to push you towards the ship.

Grogu is asleep in his bed. Din is waiting for you in the ship's dining area when you walk out after changing into your nightgown. 

“You look strong.” Din nods as you reach into the cupboard for your orange candy. You smirk and flex your bicep for him. 

“I’m getting lazy here on this ship with you. Eating candy and sweets.” You smirk at him and sit down at the table. You watch him puttering around with something from his beskar. The question you want to ask is a little scary, you don’t know if you want the answer. You ask anyway. “What does ‘aliit’mean?” The candy is just as good as it was in High Magistrate Karga’s office. “You called me that when you introduced me.” Munching happily on your sweets. Din doesn’t answer you for a couple of moments. 

“It means family.” The helmet tilts up to you and you freeze with a piece of candy in your hand. “I hope that it’s okay. Me addressing you like that.” Din looks at you. You toss the candy back into the bag and look at him. 

“Is that what we are to you? Grogu and I?” Din places his hand on yours as you speak and nods. “Then it’s fine. I like it.” A smile spreads across your face. “I liked Miss. Mando better but, it’s fine.” You tease as Din squeezes your hand gently. 

“C’mon. I wanna do something.” Din pulls you up from the table and leads you into the entry hull of the ship.

“What now? What could The Mandalorian want now?” Din tilts his head down to you and starts to unbutton the top of your nightgown. You watch and smirk down at him. “Ohh, what The Mandalorian always wants.” Din presses his forehead against yours as he slides the fabric off your shoulders. 

“You look strong enough for it now.” He rasps quietly.

Frowning, you pull your head away from his but his hands on your shoulders keep you close. “Strong enough for what? Do I want to know?” You’re nervous now. 

“I was too worried before. That I’d hurt you.” Din rasps from the modulator and pulls you in close, and presses his forehead against yours. “I didn’t want to hurt you but I think you can do it now.”

You’re still frowning. Hurt you? Do it? What is he talking about?

“What do you mean?” Din takes his helmet off and looks down at you and you almost cover your eyes with your hands but you remember you’ve seen it. He’s just as handsome as you remember. Even with a black eye. 

“Let me show you.” Looking at him while his non-modulated voice speaks is like standing under a waterfall you imagine. The weight of it just presses you into yourself. You feel so encapsulated by the deepness and softness and beauty of it. It drowns out all the other sounds you could hear.

Everything happens so fast. Somehow, the both of you are completely naked, even his helmet is off, and he has you sitting on the edge of the table in the dining area— his two thickest and longest fingers pumping in and out of you slowly, stretching you open for what you've been waiting so long for.

Din's forehead is resting against yours, his other hand is wrapped around the back of your neck holding you close to him as he pushes you closer and closer to that edge.

For the first time since you've met him- Din hasn't stopped talking.

"Don't want to hurt you," he whispers, his eyes locked onto yours. "Never want to hurt you."

You capture his words on your tongue and let them slide down your throat, and moan your own wanton desires out to him, "Want you to."

Din pulls back only an inch, giving you a perplexed look as his fingers curl against that spot inside of you once again, the heel of his palm now pressed and rubbing against your clit while he eases you back onto your elbows.

"Really, ad'ika? You want that?" His fingers move faster at the idea of bringing you some sort of pain that mingles with your pleasure.

The words what does that mean, leave your lips, but they're laced in with a moan, and a shiver through your whole body that makes it hard to actually speak.

"Means 'little one'," Din leans over your torso, his chest flush against yours. "You're my little one, yes? My ad'ika?"

Din is so beautiful. If you could etch his beauty into the back of your eyelids so he could be seen whenever you closed them, you would. You'd give all the credits you have saved, you would give years off your life just to know that there would be a place where you could look at him forever.

He was handsome in the dark that night when he showed you, but right now— it's well lit, and there is no sleepiness clouding your vision or hindering your ability to really be excited to drink him in.

And Din lets you. It's like he knows you're trying to memorize his face before he has to put that foresaken fucking helmet back on, so he's letting you take him in, hear him unmodulated— and watching him speak is like a work of art.

"Are you?" He questions, his fingers stalling their movements inside of you. His brown eyes haven't left yours since he got you on the table, it felt like he couldn't look away- even if he did want to.

Swallowing hard, you nod up to him- because you are his. You've been his for so long.

"Say it," his voice is stern, and he doesn't curl his fingers inside of you again, he pushes them further than he has yet, and it makes your eyes flutter.

"I'm yours."

The words leave your lips and Din withdraws his fingers from you, and places them into your mouth.

"Suck," he murmurs, placing himself between your legs. So you do, tasting yourself on his fingers, teasing him with your tongue between space between them.

The table feels like ice under your buttocks, but it's such a stark contrast to the heat radiating off Din between your thighs. Every single atom or fiber, or cell— whatever is holding you together as a person— is quivering. It's shaking like you might vibrate off the edge of the table.

"Ad'ika, are you ready?" Din whispers, pulling his fingers from your mouth and placing them into his. He half hums, half moans at the taste of you still lingering.

"I'm ready," you nod, eyes glued to his mouth. Everything inside of you is telling you to look down so you can watch him notch himself at your entrance for the first time, but you can't pull your gaze away from his face.

Din finally pulls his eyes away from yours, because he wants to watch. You're both trembling, you can feel it in the hand on the back of your neck. It feels time stops, both of you are still, just the heaving of your chests, and Din rubbing the tip of him along your soaked slit.

"Put it in," you whine quietly, eyes still locked onto his face, watching him lick his lips in anticipation.

Din's eyes flick up to yours, and a half smirk plays across his lips, "Ad'ika, I've waited just as long as you—"

"Put it inside," you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him into you.

Din leans in and presses a kiss, a real one- his lips to your forehead, very softly before he pushes just the tip inside of you.

It's breathtaking- you gasp at the sudden stretch and burn as he opens you up for him. With you jaw hanging open, and no sound coming out of your mouth you finally sit up and look down at him lewdly splitting you open around his throbbing, veiny length.

"Maker…"

"Maker…"

Both of you breathe the word simultaneously.

Then a soft whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it as Din pushes another inch of himself inside of you.

Din's eyes flash up from where he's pushing further into your dripping hole, to your eyes. "I'm hurting you?" He frowns, his brows furrowed together slightly.

You shake your head, then nod, and then shake your head from side to side again rapidly, "S'really good, please d-don't stop." You plead with him quickly, reaching out for him in any capacity.

Din's hand leaves the base of his cock where he had been holding it, and finds yours still searching for something to hold on to. He wraps your fingers around the back of his neck and they tangle in the mess of his loose, brown curls.

"Don't stop?" Din questions, his second hand now coming to the back of your neck to wrap around the one he still has there.

"Please don't stop," you confirm, beg, plead for him to move, to give you some sort of friction or satisfaction around the immense burn still happening as you mold to fit him inside you. "Please, p-please, Din—"

Din answers your supplications with a firm snap forward of his hips and he's entered you completely. His hips flush against yours.

The pained, moaned sound that's torn from your throat is loud, and it doesn't sound like it feels good— even though you want this. This is pain you're willing to give him— willing to go through to be close to him. It doesn't matter, it's a pain that stings in the sweetest way.

Din's eyes narrow on yours, a silent command for you to give him another confirmation that you still want this- that you still want him to hurt you just a little until it morphs into pure bliss.

You nod, mouth still hanging open silently.

Din groans, resting his forehead against yours once again, seemingly pleased with your silent need for more. "Fuck, little one, sucking me in so fucking good… Maker," he sighs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "You're so soft and warm, like I knew you would be."

All you can do is stare up at him, with tears in your eyes- mostly from the discomfort that has yet to settle into something you think you'll be able to enjoy. You'll will yourself to fit around him— you don't care because you love Din. You love him so much, and you wish you could say those words to him— but it's so fucking terrifying, and there are some scared tears in your eyes too.

All these feelings, and now this, this intense wave of new adoration for this man who usually dons beskar and a helmet, naked between your thighs right now. Din migrates his kisses to your cheeks, and the side of your face as his mouth settles directly in front of your ear.

"Shhhh, don't cry, please don't cry— it'll feel good soon, little one."

It feels like a promise as he pulls his hips back from yours slowly.

"Ohhhh fuck," you clench your eyes shut tight, and grip the hair at the base of his neck even tighter, as if that'll keep him in place, keep his massive length from leaving you fully.

"That's it," he coaxes, his thumbs rubbing circles at the base of your jaw, his fingers still intertwined around your neck.

"Take me, take every inch." He rocks forward then, and you whine at the movement, your entire body heating up from the inside out.

You can't think, can barely breathe, consumed by his intimidating size and the pressure of his body against yours, surrounding you completely.

"You're so perfect for me," Din praises, voice low and rough. "So beautiful and tight, and fucking perfect." He grunts.

He starts thrusting then, languid movements that have you arching up into him, feeling overwhelmed by too many sensations. "This okay?" he asks, voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I'll stop-"

Pleasure starts to peek through the veil of discomfort, winding its way up your spine until you're gasping, high and breathy. "Din, Din, fuck," You babble, hands scrabbling for a hold on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. "Don't stop— don't stop, p-please keep going."

He groans at that, hips stuttering. His rhythm falters but doesn't cease, picking up speed. "Greedy girl," he teases. "It feels good now?"

"Yes," you sigh.

"Good, c'mon on."

Din has both hands pressed against the wall of this new ship by his waist. The bend in your knees is draped over both of his forearms and he’s holding you against the wall. Your back is pressed against it and your hips are pulled away, supported by Din. 

His thrusts into you are not gentle or feather touches like the first night he woke you up in the dark. The loud smacking of skin against skin and your dripping cunt echo in the empty, quiet ship every time Din slams his hips into yours. He’s slamming them so hard your back moves up and down on the wall behind you. You're slick with sweat. 

Din wasn’t wrong when he said he would have hurt you before. The man cannot hold himself back now that he’s inside you again. He held back on the dining table, but he cannot anymore.

One of your hands is behind his neck, holding onto him tightly. You can feel him at your cervix, it’s a shock when he drives his hips into you. Din’s pushing every sound and every single ounce of air out of you. You are a squeaking mess against the wall behind you. The only sound coming out of you as he’s fucking you is a strained, small, quiet little pant with the tiniest exclaim of pleasure that your body can find inside of you. Your eyes are closed tightly, the grip on the back of his neck has got to be hurting him because what he’s doing to you is sending a completely new tsunami of goodness through you. These are not waves. 

It’s been one big orgasm since he started these thrusts into you. You haven't stopped. You’re dripping down Din’s thighs you’re so fucking wet. His sounds of pleasure are filthy. Deep grunts from his chest and guttural moans, unable to control how hard he fucks you. 

"You like this?” Din grunts deeply at you. All you can do is nod. “Say it.” He’s demanding it, no stutter, no soft voice of amazement or awe. He’s fucking up into you so deeply, “Say it," Din demands, needing your voice.

“Yes.” You finally find enough air inside you to force it out. Your head is spinning and you haven’t been able to form one clear thought since you and Din watched him slide his cock into you for the first time. You couldn’t even speak over the feeling of it stretching you. It felt like it was going to split you in half at first. 

“Yes, what?” More thrusts into you, quickly knocking you back against the wall each time, your sweat keeps you sliding up and down in rhythm with him. Din’s being so aggressive. You got a little tiny taste of it the other night when he face fucked you, but he held back then. He’s not holding back now.

“Y-yes. I-I l-love it.” You’re stuttering with each smack of his hips against yours. Din’s thrusts get faster as you speak to him like you’re the one controlling how fast and how hard he moves. 

“Say forever.” Another guttural demand forced out between hard upward slams of his hips into yours. 

“Oh my Mak- For-ever,” It comes from somewhere deep inside you like he just forced it from within you with those thrusts.

“Little one-” He’s looking down between you now, watching his hard cock disappear into your velvety wetness as he bucks his hips up into yours. The base of him is gleaming in your leaking slickness. It makes him groan, watching it. Encourages him to move faster. “-so per-fect.” He draws the word out, his forehead finds your shoulder. 

You’re suspended in the air, you can no longer even find the energy inside of you any more to keep your head up. It’s leaned back against the metal wall. Your eyes are closed as he rips another orgasm out of you. You don’t even make a sound when it happens. The only way he knows is by the walls of your cunt tightening and squeezing around his cock thrusting inside of you.

“That’s a good girl.” It’s another low guttural sound in your ear. “Love w-when you come on me. Love feeling you c-come.” You’re obsessed, love when he calls you a good girl and tells you to come on him. It’s the soundtrack you want to fall asleep to when he’s gone. 

Then he’s withdrawing from you. Your feet touch the ground before you can even comprehend what’s happening. Din’s hands are on your waist, turning you. He puts his hand flat on the wall from behind you. 

“Hands.” It’s a guided instruction on what Din wants you to do. You follow it, placing both of your hands on the wall. “Beautiful.” He’s still behind you, hands on your hips again, pulling them back against him. Din’s feet kick yours apart gently and you let him open you up. Then he’s pushing himself back into you.

The sounds your skin makes when he jackhammers into you are obscene. Like someone’s being beaten up. You are being beaten up...technically. You’ve never ever been fucked like this before. Your supple mounds bounce below you as he rams himself into you over and over. 

“Perfect— everything about you is perfect. Your cunt, your mouth... your ass,” he grunts, checking the list in his head aloud as he fucks you. "All so beautiful.” Then you hear his mouth wetly suck something from behind you, and the thoughts of what he’s doing run through your head. He presses his thumb against your puckered hole. “I want it. Can I t-take it? Please?” Din grunts, but is still being so polite while he thrusts into you angrily.  

“Yes.” You’re able to whimper out. You want him to take it too, thinking back to the time he used the Amban on you. “Take it.” Whimpered again.

“My little one,” he whispers as he slips the tip of his thumb into you. 

The pleasure between your legs completely masks any pain that might have happened when he did that because you don’t feel a thing. Just being stretched around his digit. The feeling of fullness as he rests the rest of his fingers just above your ass. He pushes it in deeper and holds it there as he continues to slam against you, again the sounds in the ship are salacious and filthy. Wet-smacking skin, your choked on sobs of bliss as he made you come once more. 

“Fuck.” He groans and his hand grips your hip tightly. “Fuck, take it. Fucking take it.” His thrusts become more staggered and sloppy. Din slams himself into you one last time and then holds himself against you, still grinding his hips into yours. You can feel him twitch and throb inside of you as he releases.

You’re ebbing off your orgasm for the seventeenth time. One last thrust of his hips to fully empty himself. He’s quivering. It makes you smile as you rest your forehead against the hull. 

“Perfect.” Din’s out of breath but uses what he’s got left in his lungs to let you know. His forehead finds the center of your shoulder blades. He’s sweating.

You can feel him leave his sticky sweat on your back when he stands, slowly and carefully pulling himself from within you. You groan at the empty feeling, his spend dripping down your thigh.

You stay, leaning up against the wall like that until his hands pull you away from it. 

“I can’t.” You gasp. “Oh, my Ma-ker.” Another forced-out gasp of approval of what he’s just done to you. “I can’t. Tired. Sore.” You whine as you push yourself off the wall. 

“Tired. Bed. Sleep. Perfect. Beautiful.” Another list in his head that he audibly checks off to you as he leads you backward towards the softest sheets and the most perfect bed on the floor as long as Din is beside you. 

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New Orleans Terror Attack Suspect Shamsud-Din Jabbar Planned to Kill Family, Authorities Reveal | The Gateway Pundit | by Jim Hᴏft

🤔💬THE FBI NEED A NEW "SCRIPT WRITER"

SYAY ALERT 💥 STAY FOCUS 💥 THE CABAL WANTS & NEED CHAOS.

🤨New Orleans Terror Attack Suspect Shamsud-Din Jabbar PLANNED TO KILL FAMILY, Authorities Reveal

🤨👉THE FBI REPORTS that Shamsud-Din Jabbar had INITIALLY considered killing his family but ultimately DECIDED AGAINST IT, FEARING IT WOULD 👉DIVERT MEDIA ATTENTION from what he described as THE “WAR BETWEEN BELIEVERS AND DISBELIEVERS”