#luxury hotel suites in London

[mensministry]

"Gormley Suite," The Beaumont Hotel London, United Kingdom

[wellourgerdes]

The Soho Hotel London

The Soho Hotel London The Soho Hotel, located 5 minutes’ walk from Oxford Street, boasts a fully equipped gym with an on-site personal trainer. This elegant boutique hotel in bustling Soho occupies a former warehouse and is only a 2-minute walk from Soho Square and  12-minute walk from the British Museum. Five-star luxury is an understatement; this hotel is magnificent for the posh and…

[blueorchidhotels]

Hidden Gems: Discover Central London's Best-Kept Secrets with Blue Orchid Hospitality Room Bookings

Embark on an unforgettable journey of discovery by booking your stay at The Tower Suites by Blue Orchid, a top 5-star hotel in central London. Located near the iconic Tower of London, our luxurious hotel offers stunning rooms overlooking the majestic River Thames. Take advantage of our best London hotel deals and packages to enhance your experience. Immerse yourself in the city's rich history, vibrant culture, and world-class attractions. From the moment you step foot into our exquisite hotel, you'll be enveloped in elegance and impeccable service. Create cherished memories that will last a lifetime with a stay at The Tower Suites by Blue Orchid.

[newzzwired]

Samsung launches luxury gaming suite with London hotel

Samsung launches luxury gaming suite with London hotel

Samsung has announced that it is launching a Luxury gaming suite in London in conjunction with hotel W London. This is apparently the UK’s first gaming suite at a hotel and it features a 55-inch Samsung 1000R curved gaming screen, the hotel room will set you back £1,500 a night. As guests step into the futuristic suite, they will immediately absorb the set-up of the Samsung gaming monitor, for…

[mydear-corinthian]

Dirty Diana || Thomas Shelby x reader

Synopsis: After the war, you and Tommy were separated leaving you in London alone with no money at all. Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader , Tommy Shelby x reader Warnings: SMUT +18, mentions of prostitution & misogynist, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk Notes: I saw this Dirty Diana edit of Tommy Shelby & Diana Mitford so why not do a fic about MJ's song?? I'm so happy that Dirty Diana is getting popular and getting the hype that it deserves !! This fic is terribly written and rushed :c Click here to see the MAIN MASTERLIST Click here to see the PEAKY BLINDERS MASTERLIST Click here to see the CILLIAN MURPHY MASTERLIST

Tommy and you were together before the war. His family happily accepted you and eventually treat you as one.

Unfortunately, you two parted ways following the battle. While you were stuck in London trying to become a banker, he was back in his hometown.

As a woman, landing a career like that hasn't been normalized yet. Often, men claim that it was a "man's job" exclusively. You met all the standards perfectly, but in the end, you were not hired. You were left with nothing as a result. No family, no home, and no money.

That's when you started working as a prostitute, something you never thought you would do. It was your last option since you could no longer survive without money. Given that you were making far more money at the job, you cannot complain about it. Constantly receiving enormous sums of shillings in a single night.

You decided to change your name, Diana.

Every night you wait on the busy streets of London for customers. Bending over their vehicle, seducing them.

It wasn't easy and it will never be easy to be working in this line of work. You've been sleeping with young, old, single, married, or even widowed men for money.

It was the usual night. Waiting for new customers as you stood on the busy streets outside of a hotel. Your black dress perfectly traced your curves, a white shoulder fur covered your elbows.

You finally saw a car stopping in front of you. A man wearing a neat navy suit, a newsboy hat decorated his hair, a cigarette burning between his lips.

Due to his hat, you cannot fully see who he was, only his mouth. You walked seductively towards the man's car, bending over the window. "Sir, I have to go home 'cause I'm so tired you see..?" you ask, pretending to be exhausted. "I hate sleeping alone, why don't you take me?" He took a bill out of his pockets and showed it to you. "My place. The hotel." he plainly said.

Seeing the large amount of bill made your eyes widened. Never in your job had you encountered a man giving you this big amount of money for one night.

"Well, I'll see what I can do with that, sir," he exited the vehicle, walking towards the hotel as you followed him. The anonymous man was walking in front of you so you cannot see his face.

You couldn't shake the thought of Tommy, no matter how many men you slept with. You still have feelings for him. You was hoping he could find you and look for you. Your first love was and is him. He was everything to you. It's not that you two split up; rather, it was more that you stopped seeing one another, no goodbye's or hello's after the war. You believed that his 'breakup' was final. that he had already had enough of your relationship. While a part of you believes he is better off without you, the other half of you longs to visit him in Birmingham. That he's already forgotten you.

The both of you were already inside his luxurious hotel room. It wasn't really that tidy but it was manageable.

The anonymous man finally removed his hat, showing his full face at you. As soon as you saw him, your eyes widened and your heart sank.

"Tommy?" you shockingly asked.

"(Y/n)." he greeted plainly.

"How did you- How did you found me?"

He actually haven't moved on from you too. Tommy tried to marry someone for you to leave his mind but that didn't worked for him as well. He just doesn't feel the same feeling that he was with his current wife than you. He wants to relive that feeling and he is hoping that he will be with you again.

"I searched for you. I searched every spot in Birmingham and you weren't there. And so I found you here. In London," he said. "And I know about your job, Diana."

His deep and sultry voice always gets you. Having the sudden desire to take him, make you his, and just be with him.

"How about you stay with me, tonight?" he asked. 

"Oh Tommy, I'm all yours," you answered. Your lips meeting his, passionately tasting him. Tommy's hands roamed all around your small back, allowing the kiss to get deeper and deeper.

He suddenly stopped, pulling his face away. "My wife is at home tonight, she's probably worried tonight. I haven't told her I'm alright." he sighed, walking up to the telephone on the desk just beside the door. He rolled the numbers before speaking. 

Before he said something again, you heard a woman's voice on the telephone, screaming at him. Tommy's wife was mad.

Suddenly, you grabbed the telephone, hearing the voice of his wife. The speaker was on your ear, "He's not coming back, he's sleeping with me,"

You dropped the telephone harshly, smiling at him. "Are you not worried she'll leave you?" you asked, your fingers tapping his chest seductively. Tommy's lips found yours again. The kiss is turning harshly and messier. "It's alright, she was using me for money anyways," he said in between kisses. "And Polly didn't approved my relationship with her but we got married anyway,"

"God, I've been waiting for you," your hands found its way to his hair, crumpling it as you felt his tongue explore your mouth. You moaned in between kisses, eager for more. 

You pushed him into the king-sized bed's soft mattress. You unbutton your wrinkled shirt while leaving your bra on as you crawl from his legs to his hips. He showed how hard he was by the way his pants were rising. Tommy's breath hitched, his skin heats up.

"Where have you been, my darling?" he breathly asked, cupping your cheeks once again to examine your face, processing what is happening right now. You're back. You're here. 

Slowly, your hips rocked on his boner, the friction making your eyes roll. Tommy swallowed hard, feeling the sensation that's happening. "I've missed you, Tom," 

You continued to stroke the hard swell beneath his pants with a look of enticing eagerness, every stroke a whispered promise of something more. You carefully and slowly removed his belt buckle, the metal clasp giving way to your touch with a gentle click. With careful care, your fingertips traced the fabric of his pants, revealing the shapes of his buried need as you undid each button. Gentle yet focused.

A rush of electricity shot through Tommy as her hands discovered his shaft, igniting every nerve ending with a burning passion. You moved his cock up and down with such delicate strokes; it was a rhythmic dance that left him panting, his chest rising and falling in time with your motions.

"Oh god, you're so good at this," he praised. 

Your touch was like a kiss from heaven; it sent electric sparks of need shooting through him, burning an inferno of desire. His breath caught in his throat with every stroke, the melody of pleasure surrounding him so intensely that he was unable to resist, his moans echoing at the limits of his arousal.

He finally came, his white seed spurted all over the mattress and your hands, staining them You chuckled. 

Suddenly, Tommy switched positions, he's now on top of you. "You think we're done?" he asked, his fingers touched your clit, sending shivers all around your body due to the sudden touch. 

"Oh god!" you moaned. 

His fingertips tracing passionate patterns over the fabric that covered your aching core, your back arched in ecstasy as he increased his speed driven by an early desire. Your body trembled with anticipation with every round move, a burning desire that cried out to be let out. Time appeared to stop still as his touch danced over you in the heat of passion, each movement an ode to the unbearable depths of his desire.

You moaned out loud, feeling your orgasm coming. "Tom - I'm gonna .. oh god!"

His movements stopped unexpectedly, leaving you on the verge of euphoria and desperate for release. A line appeared on your forehead as a wave of opposing emotions passed over you, your need pounding against the limits his seductive pause forced.

"Ah, not yet," his husky voiced rang to your ears.

Tommy removed your underwear, showing how wet you were from him fingering you. He aligned his shaft in front of your cunt before you fully took him, making you moan. 

You felt full just from his cock. His warm cock filled you, making him push in even further. Your eyes closed, your head rolling back. 

"So fucking tight," he exhaled deeply. His rough hands gripped your hips making him pound in to you harshly, hitting your sensitive spots all over and over. 

"No one ever pleasured you this good huh?" 

Sweat was streaming down his strained brow, reflecting the fever that was pumping through his body. The air in his hotel room pumped with the sound of your lewd moans and his sultry groans, echoes swirling passionately together and filling the room with a euphoric atmosphere.

His trusts became faster and harsher. His and your skin slapped together, earning a loud sound. 

You felt your orgasm coming up again making you moan louder, seeing nothing but starts and feel like you've been drugged by the most pleasurable medicine there is out there. You clenched on his cock, indicating that you were close. 

"Tommy, I'm gonna cum," 

"Yeah? Cum then, love," he demanded.

You both reached the your high of ecstasy with a few last, powerful thrusts, your bodies combining in a melody of pleasure. During that moment of explosive release, when your senses were overwhelmed by a rush of sensations, you felt him spill out his essence into you, filling you to the overflowing limit with his ecstatic warmth. Every muscle clenched with fine pleasure as your climax came over you in waves of joy, your combined passion setting off an inferno of desire that swallowed you both completely.

Tommy pulled out before dropping his body beside you, panting hard. 

"Come back to me," he whispered. 

"Oh Tommy. I never left you."

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: in which Nadia doesn’t play about her man.

warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, fighting, slight aggression towards nadia.

saint’s team radio 🪩: let me tell you guys something. this is one of my favourite chapters i’ve written. can’t believe we’re on chapter 11! Hope you enjoy!

and happy birthday mntase! (hopefully you’ll see this!)

dividers by @cafekitsune

pictures from pinterest and instagram!

faceclaim: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

-

The glow of the Eiffel Tower shining through the hotel window was all Nadia could stare at, her eyes behind her glasses gazing back and forth at the sparkles from the metal structure.

Four seasons welcomed the two in their suite with decadent chocolates and overly luxurious desserts, a treat for their short plane ride from London.

Evening had begun and the two had spent the past few hours that they had been in Paris just lounging around. Lewis working on some emails with Nadia styling her wig to perfection for the next evening, Pharrell’s latest Louis Vuitton collection as the new creative director. An event she could not wait to attend, a dream come true for her and what she wanted to do for herself in the future if she decides to stop teaching.

The sun had long gone down and the Eiffel Tower was an incredible sight, Nadia’s emotions all over the place because she truly thought she wouldn’t be here, that she was dreaming too big but she was here with someone she knew she had feelings for. “Lewis! Are you ready yet?” Nadia spoke out, adjusting her glasses with her finger as she plopped herself on the couch.

“Yeah, we can start.” He said, walking into the living room of the suite. His hair was blown out, ready to be braided again. Lewis found his seat on the floor with a cushion underneath him, in between Nadia’s legs as she sat ready. “Are those new frames?” He asked, twisting his head to look up at her, examining a face he loved seeing.

“Yeah actually. I wanted bigger frames and the optometrist said my left eye’s slowly getting its vision back.” She responded. “You went during Spain?” “Mhm.”

Nadia’s attention turned towards his head full of hair, short extensions sitting next to her to braid into his hair. “Can you hand me the gel?” She softly asked, beginning to feel at the soft hair in front of her, running her manicured fingers through it as it sent shivers down Lewis’ spine.

Not much time had passed for them to start talking on anything random, the current topic being Nadia’s school years. “Oh yeah, Cambridge was a bit odd because there weren’t a lot of us there. Most professors doubted that I’d graduated but then I showed those motherfuckers.” She laughed, working on a braid.

“It was a fun experience and I was more than grateful to leave. Oxford though, was me just experimenting and seeing if I could get in for my honours in History and here I am.” Nadia continued, Lewis humming in response. “What did you really want to do though? I saw you displayed your degrees back at home.” He spoke, using his hands to speak.

“I’ve always wanted to do something in fashion but my mom straight up said that it wouldn’t get me anywhere so it was either Cambridge or sitting around with her all day.” She expressed. This made Lewis turn around with his face fully confused. “I thought you were good with your mom.”

“So did I, Lew. She’s a very complex person so most of my time was spent away from her. Until we eventually mended things then boom! I got married to you.” Nadia spoke, deciding to let out a little chuckle at the little joke.

The last sentence made Lewis’ mind work overtime. He didn’t want to come up with a theory just yet, not when they’ve come so close together in such little time. “My team worked with my family for this, as my stepmum said. Said it’ll make me look good.” Lewis confessed. Just like that, Nadia’s hands stopped working.

“What the hell were you doing for them to do that?” She asked, head tilted to look at him while her hand was entangled in his hair. All he could do was shrug, he was just told he was getting married a week prior to meeting Nadia. “Damn, this fame thing is weird as shit.” She said out loud and they laughed.

After telling each other their backstories and feeling like they know each other a little better, Lewis hair was eventually done. “Look at you looking all handsome.” She complimented him, washing her hands in the bathroom then coming back out to look at him. He already felt like he looked good but hearing it from Nadia felt so much better. “Thank you. Got gentle hands on you, maybe I should get you to do my hair.” He smirked at her.

Rolling her eyes with a smile, she cleaned everything up and began walking towards the bedroom. “And who’s supposed to be your super smart, talented, beautiful wife?” She winked at him as she walked and he couldn’t help but shake his head with the biggest smile on his face.

-

A Maybach van was the vehicle of choice to head to the show at the Pont Neuf bridge, the drive shorter than she initially thought.

“It’s not as cold as I thought it’d be.” Nadia softly spoke, playing with her skirt, her nerves eating at her. Looking over at her, Lewis held his hand out and she took it without a second thought. “Everyone who meets you will fall in love with you, I swear.” Just like I did was what he wanted to finish his sentence with.

“This isn’t as out of the box as I can go but what if it’s like super packed?” She stressed. This wasn’t a mediocre event, this was a place she always saw herself being one day and out of her mother’s shadow. Making a name for herself.

“Nads, you’re with me. We’ll be more than okay and you look good as fuck. Don’t forget who you are.” Lewis spoke with pure confidence and that last part made her turn to him with curiosity etched on her face.

“Now you’re losing me.” She spoke. “Remember how you told me after Canada that I’m ‘Lewis fucking Hamilton?’” The memory came back and she couldn’t help but giggle at it, her grillz showing.

“I was being your hype woman, man. Of course I’m gonna say shit like that.” Nadia smiled at that, her hand still holding Lewis’.

He then put on a smug expression. “Exactly, now it’s my turn. You’re Nadia fucking Hamilton. Never doubt yourself.” He spoke in his relaxed voice, knowing that it would get to her easily. Like clockwork, she adjusted herself in her seat and sat up right as if she was manually accepting the words spoken to her.

Her confidence truly grew as they got to the entrance. Doing promo for LV was the last thing she expected but Lewis cheered her on to do it. Everything felt so surreal, from meeting her celebrity friends who immediately took a liking to her to watching the amazing show front row, taking everything in. Replaying her husband’s words in her head, she interacted with everyone who was itching to meet her and Nadia felt like the world’s biggest star.

Partying with people she admired from afar was something she would cherish forever. She truly didn’t want this to end. “Lewis, Nadia! Thank you guys so much for attending.” Pharrell called out to the couple who were all smiles. The conversation went on merrily with Lewis even promoting Nadia’s styling career. “Oh I would love to work on something. Lewis has been going on about how good you are. So, while I send through some pieces of you guys, I’ll also send you my details so we can work something out?” The older man suggested.

“That sounds amazing! Yeah, I love that!” She beamed from ear to ear, grillz flashing ever so beautifully. After saying goodbyes, Nadia turned to Lewis who had been admiring her the entire time. Throwing her arms around him, the two hugged with cameras panning over to them. “Thank you, my love.” She said to him, leaning to kiss him on the cheek.

“I lo-”

“Nadia! Bae! Come over here!” Megan thee stallion’s voice boomed as her and Zendaya beckoned Nadia over to them. The woman looked to her husband who just gave her a closed smile. “Go have fun, I’ll be with Jay and Bey.” Lewis spoke, patting the side of her ass.

“Okay cool, see you later!” Squeezing him once more, she let go of the hug and ran to her new friends.

Lewis knew that it wasn’t the right time to admit such. He just wanted to blurt it out so that she knows how he feels, how he feels a pull every time she walked away, how he wants to give her the universe just to see her smile.

-

BROMLEY, SOUTH LONDON

The bass of a mixture of reggae and amapiano songs hit through the speakers of the range rover, the long drive from their house enjoyable with both their voices singing over the music at times.

Nadia being the designated driver this time, she carefully drove as the two reached Nicola’s house. The two got the invite shortly after the chaos that was Austria to have a pre-Silverstone celebration with everyone as Nicola called it. An awkward Tuesday to host a lunch/dinner but a great gesture nonetheless. It was more of a surprise that everyone was actually available to do such a thing.

Eventually finding parking behind Mile’s car, it was clear that they were most certainly late. Hopping out of the car, her LV trainers landed on the pebbles underneath her with a bit of a limp to her step. Nadia prayed it was less visible than what it was the day before. Opening the back car door to get the plastic containers filled with everything she brought for this lunch, baked goods prepared with love and excitement.

“You look so good today, baby.” She heard his voice as she closed the door to the car. “I look like a walking ad but thank you, love.” Nadia responded, handing the containers for him to hold as they made their way to the door.

Not even bothering to knock, Lewis walked into the busy house and the scent of different foods filled the air and you could hear loud laughter from the background. The place was huge, perfect for a big family.

Before they could take another step into the welcoming foyer, two familiar screams echoed through. “Auntie Nadia! Sir Uncle!” Willow and Kaiden came rushing towards the pair, Nadia already crouching on the floor with open arms to hug the two eager children. “We missed you so much, Auntie Nadia!” Willow smiled brightly, unable to contain her excitement.

“Wooow, what about your uncle?” Lewis joked as the kids embraced his legs since his arms were pre-occupied with the containers.

On the way to the kitchen to greet whoever was in there, she admired the homey feeling of it all and she was also just guessing where everything was, following the aroma of the food like the cartoons. “Nadia, oh my god! You guys are finally here!” The host herself exclaimed as she hurried to the confused girl. “I’m so glad you guys are here! It’s so good seeing you again and might I say, you’re glowing!”

The two women had gotten quite used to each other over the course of the few months, the kids growing obsessed with Nadia and wanted to see her every so often. Rather being scared of doing anything with Lewis’ family without him being there, Nadia kept a distance but kept a huge smile on for the kids whenever Nicola would randomly facetime.

“I use this one cleanser, maybe that’s why.” The girl grinned, kinda nervous that anyone could see her slight limp. “Sure, a cleanser. You look amazing, though. The kids were happy to see you on screen on Sunday, they were buzzing.” The older woman spoke.

“I missed them a lot. Austria was insane, it was cold and nothing was going right but at least we’re here for Silverstone.” Nadia shrugged, not wanting to talk about the previous grand prix that gave her stress. “I’ve never really liked that track so I understand you fully.” Nicola nodded after responding.

Nadia looked behind Nicola for a bit and unbeknownst to her, her eyes smiled with a lingering feeling within them. Lewis approached the two woman standing in the hallway but Nicola could already tell as she watched her sister in law fall in love in front of her.

The siblings greeted each other with hugs before Lewis turned to Nadia. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” He told her, a soft expression on his face as he saw become slightly nervous. “Oh, do I look okay?” She asked the siblings and they nodded simultaneously. “I’ll be right here so I show you around the house.” Nicola said, giving her a thumbs up before walking away.

“You seem to know the house well.” Nadia commented as her hand fit snug into Lewis’ hand to wherever he was leading her. “Willow and Kaiden dragged me around the house while you were chatting.” He responded. His hands led her by the shoulders towards the kitchen of the house, a large well lit space that felt like home with a modern touch.

A short woman with white hair was standing by the island, talking to the ever positive Miles. Upon hearing the new footsteps entering the kitchen, the woman turned around and gasped at the sight before her before a smile took over her face. “Hi mum.” Lewis chuckled and in that moment, Nadia’s stomach dropped.

Snapping her head to look at Lewis then his mom, she eventually saw the resemblance between the two and her heart fluttered. She moved to greet Miles with a hug before turning to the older woman. “Mum, I’d like you to meet my wife, Nadia.” He introduced her. The girl took a quick breath before greeting. “Hello, it’s so nice to meet you.” She said softly, being at eye level with the older woman.

Carmen didn’t have to say anything, she quickly embraced Nadia in a hug with a chuckle in between. “My dear, the pleasure’s all mine. Aren’t you the stunner.” His mother smiled, gently placing her hand on Nadia’s cheek. “Is he treating you well?” Carmen continued.

“Like a queen.” Nadia smiled, her attention never moving away from his mom. The two women were so caught up in their conversation that they hadn’t realised that the boys had left the kitchen. “Oh and I brought cinnamon rolls along with other desserts!” Nadia expressed excitedly, walking around the kitchen after offering her help to make charcuterie boards to bring to the set up in the backyard.

“He had mentioned that you made him Macarons, I’d love the recipe or even a baking session one day.” Carmen spoke, adjusting her glasses and in that moment, Nadia felt right at home.

Several hours later, everyone had gotten comfortable in the backyard adorned with fairy lights with the table set up in the garden. Miles and Daniel played basketball in the tennis court tucked behind the garden, their cheers and laughter heard from quite far. Amara, who landed in London a week early for Silverstone was helping Nicola with the music playlist and Nadia was entertaining the kids with giant jenga.

Lewis and his father overlooked the backyard with glasses of juice in their hands, Lewis particularly admiring Nadia with the kids.

“What are you thinking there, son?” Anthony asked. “I love her so much, Dad. It clicked quite some time ago but I don’t know how she feels and that…scares me.” Lewis confessed.

Anthony wasn’t surprised at his son’s words. “Was it Oxford that clicked for you?” He asked Lewis. Releasing a deep breath, Lewis tightened his grip on his glass. “She was telling me about her graduation and I wanted to just tell her that I was there supporting her and cheering for her but I knew I couldn’t tell her.” He sighed.

“You made a good choice, Lewis. That girl does love you and this family. It just took a couple of years.” Anthony chuckled before taking a sip of juice. “Her mother however…She’s got issues and it’s not easy being in-laws with her.” His father revealed.

“Dad, what do you mean?” Lewis raised an eyebrow and his dad let out a sigh. “Thembi hates her daughter and it’s so sad. She sent her back home so that she wouldn’t come back but Nadia being the intelligent girl she is, came back to the uk to be in Oxford and Cambridge. She only really has a relationship with her mom because of her stepdad.”

In that moment, Lewis felt his heart break for Nadia. This entire situation was quite complicated but to hear the dislike between mother and daughter was very hard. “She was gunning for Nadia to get married so that she could make money off of her. Tia, your pr manager, was a genius for taking Nadia before her mother got to her.” He added.

All this information made Lewis’ admiration for her grow even further. He could see that her side of the family wasn’t really there for her but put an excuse that they were just busy with their own lives. Being shaken out of his thoughts by someone tapping on his shoulder, he looked to see Nicola on his right. “Dinner’s ready.” She smiled.

Chatter scattered around the outdoor dinner table as different things were passed around and jokes were flying around. Many different varieties of food were dished out, making sure there was something for everyone. Nicolas arrived a bit later to the dinner, already claiming a soft spot in Nadia’s heart before everyone sat down.

Her manicured hand held her champagne flute as she laughed loudly at Amara’s story telling skills. Flashes would go off from Miles’ camera who wanted to capture every moment of this picturesque dinner. Nadia’s seat was so close to Lewis’ that there was barely any space left, their legs constantly touching and his arm leaning over her chair. Engaged in two different conversations, the couple remained close throughout.

“Aunty Dia! Can we have the cinnamon rolls?” Willow and Kaiden ran up to her seat, escaping their seats from their parents. Immediately scooting her seat back, Nadia gave her attention to the kids who eagerly held paper plates with serviettes on them. “Of course! Do you want them warm or cold?” She asked the kids, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Warm!” Willow shouted out and Kaiden just nodded along. “Okay let me take off my jacket then we’ll go.” She smiled. Turning to Lewis, she spoke. “Baby, can you take my jacket? I’m going to the kitchen with the kids.” She asked, already taking the Louis Vuitton jacket off.

The surprised expression on Lewis was quickly replaced with a smirk. “What’d you call me?” He asked with a teasing tone. Catching on to his antics, Nadia rolled her eyes with a smile. “Baby, thank you for taking my jacket.” She said, leaning in to peck to his lips which he happily took. Finally standing up, she held both the children’s hands to go to the well lit kitchen.

“So. When’s the wedding?” Miles spoke, shoving a macaron into his mouth. “Miles, I’m already married.” Lewis said, adjusting his seating. “The actual wedding, bruv. It’s just heart eyes everytime she does anything.” His friend joked, the whole table joining in and laughing.

“I still have to tell her how I feel.” Lewis chuckled and like clockwork, Amara’s hand smacked the back of his head. “If you don’t tell that woman that you love her, I’ll do it for you.” The woman threatened which garnered even more laughter.

“I wanna do it in the perfect moment. She deserves the world and I want to give that to her, even more later in life. It’s like there’s much more light in my life now that she’s in it, y’know?” Lewis spoke, the whole table admiring the way he spoke about Nadia.

“Well then. We’ll have to make sure this marriage stays protected from the public.” Anthony nodded to his son. Willow’s giggles came closer and closer to the table, her brother and Nadia following suite. “What did I miss?” The woman asked as soon as she plopped down in her seat.

“We were just about to talk about Silverstone, my dear.” Carmen responded, smiling at her daughter in law. “Oh lovely!” Nadia chirped up, scooting her chair closer to Lewis’ with his hand comfortably falling on her thigh.

-

SILVERSTONE

Admittedly so, this track was by far Nadia’s favourite. The paddock was alive, spotting countless people who looked like her (finally) and they donned their Lewis merch. Cameras surrounding her as she walked with her furry companion who seemed to lead the way.

She welcomed everyone who wanted to greet Roscoe and was more surprised at people who wanted to meet her. Race day was undeniably the most busy, people who’ve flown in from different countries just to support her husband. Nadia made sure to update everyone on her instagram throughout her day.

The fan stage was going on and when she heard the loud screams, she knew Lewis stepped on with his giggles through the mic following after. Finally stopping at the Mercedes hospitality, she decided to sit outside to let Roscoe rest from the walk they shared. The family was in their own paddock club suite, patiently waiting for the race. She’d join everyone for the first half of the race then spend the rest of it in the garage.

It all seemed like a good weekend. Seemed.

She really tried her best to be distracted by her phone but her hearing skills were working hard and listened in to the conversation from the group of 4 who were standing right beside the hospitality suite.

“I hate his confidence, he thinks he owns the place!” The one exclaimed.

“Right? It’s all too annoying. He sucks but he doesn’t see that because of his fame. Stupid guy.” Another spoke up.

‘Okay, this could be about any driver.’ Nadia thought.

“Then he comes in her wearing dirty clothes, bringing in his ratchet wife who can’t even dress for the occasion. This isn’t the hood!” There it was. Calmly standing, she called Roscoe and handed him to a worker, making her way to the group. She held her pants, thankfully wearing sneakers.

Nadia hadn’t noticed that Lewis and his teammate were on their way back to the hospitality suite, only one thing was on her mind. She ran her teeth over her grillz before sniffing, making her appearance known to the group.

“Hi, not too sure if you were aware but you’re making an awful lot of noise.” Nadia spoke, a stoic expression on her face. One of them turned to look at Nadia then scoffed.

“What are you going to do about it?” They asked, looking at her up and down with a scowl on her face.

“I’m here to tell you to shut up if you have nothing better to do with your life other than stand here talking about a driver and his wife.” She spoke, tilting her head slightly. “Well, the words write themselves. You look like a thug.” They smirked.

Another chimed in. “If you loved yourself, you wouldn’t look like a clown. Tell that husband of yours to clean up his act on track, there’s a reason why he’s behind all the great.”

“You need to shut the fuck up. Who do you think you guys are?” Nadia began pointing her fingers at them. Unaware of her surroundings, people were recording the whole thing and Lewis was drawing closer to the scene and saw his wife through it all. Miles even came down from the paddock club to see what was going on.

“You will not speak on my husband as if he’s one of your inferiors. I’m not scared of you so you standing here trying your best to intimidate me won’t work.” She continued, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Your mum-“ The main guy couldn’t even finish whatever bullshit he was about to spew before his shirt was grabbed backwards by a security guard, specifically one of Lewis’.

Pointing to his forehead with her nail on her pointer finger. “You better watch your steps after this. You speak on my mom again, you won’t like what happens next.” She lowered her voice to speak to him specifically. “Take your little friend and get the fuck out of here, you pathetic piece of shit.” Nadia clicked her tongue in annoyance.

The security guard dragged him away but his friend still stood there frozen. She stared at him then gave him a fright by stepping forward, the expression on her face never faltering. Nadia turned her heels to walk back to where she was seated, ignoring the eyes on her. Roscoe sat right by her feet again as she picked up her phone.

“Nadia.” She lifted her head up to see her husband standing in front of her, Miles stood behind him doubling over in laughter. “Hi Lewis.” She smiled, an innocent smile taking over her face.

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He spoke. Lewis knew that she had a fighting spirit that he never wanted to cross but seeing it being used on other people evoked something else in him.

“Tia will call in a few and talk my ear off but I don’t give a fuck. If anyone thinks they can talk shit about you, I’ll deal with it.” Nadia smiled, showing off her grillz once again. Kissing her once again on the lips, Lewis smiled, incredibly proud of her.

The race was nothing short of exhilarating, nothing could compare to the feeling that she felt watching the screens in the garage. She chose to not have headphones on as she stood next to Anthony, Linda and Nicolas, the camera panning over to her focused gaze on her husband’s car.

Silverstone had an insane atmosphere, the support for Lewis was so strong that she knew it fueled him throughout the race. With five laps left, she knew he had the podium in the bag. Once he crossed the finish line, she screamed and cheered with her in laws, hugs being exchanged with the cheers from Merc employees also filling the atmosphere.

The post race interview after he got out of the car had featured her and his family watching him from the side, all wearing the proud expression on their faces. Nadia’s ‘44’ necklace shining from the little sunshine that Silverstone had to offer. The podium celebration was one for the books, fans surrounding with cheers mainly for the British drivers on the podium.

Even going out of her way to congratulate Lando, her husband followed after with a big grin on his face. Hugging his family first, his touch lingered on Nadia for much longer. “You’re full of sweat, Lew.” She laughed when he wouldn’t let go of her.

All he did was shrug and kiss her forehead. “I gotta go for interviews, see you later?” He spoke, his hand on his hip still quite breathless.

“No problem.” She smiled. “I lo-“ He was interrupted by Miles running to give him a bone crushing hug. Nadia thought she was hearing things but shrug it off watching Lewis celebrate with everyone around him.

imessage!

Rea! <3

saint’s notes 🪩: hope you enjoyed! it also looks a bit odd because it was written in google docs lol

tags: @non-stop-imagines @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @thisismeracing @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @cocobutterqwueen @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @vsfavs @louvrepool @mistruscity @tian-monique @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @nichmeddar @gg-trini @lifeless-firefly @vellicora @takeoffz-tookoff9876 @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @royallyprincesslilly @lewisroscoelove @purplelewlew @xoscar03 @kidsol-ar @nothaqks @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1 @henneseyhoe @saturnville

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[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part Three: The Hotel Room

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

In the elevator, you and Cillian stood shoulder to shoulder, the confined space amplifying the charged atmosphere between you. Neither of you spoke; the silence felt heavy, laden with unspoken desires and expectations. You knew you were crossing a line, but the lure of Cillian's charm and maturity was irresistible.

As the elevator doors slid open, you stepped out onto the plush carpet, feeling dizzy with anticipation. Cillian led you down the hallway to his luxurious suite, unlocking the door with a keycard.

You couldn't help but notice the extravagance of the room - king-sized bed, leather armchairs, a plush sofa, and multiple windows overlooking the city skyline. Despite the opulence, the vibe remained relaxed and inviting.

"Make yourself comfortable," Cillian invited as he poured himself a glass of water before placing a call to room service. "I think I'll order a bottle of Bordeaux," he informed you. "Does that sound alright?" he asked, and you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, please, that sounds wonderful," you replied, allowing your voice to carry an undertone of excitement.

As you sat down on the plush couch, Cillian placed the call to room service and requested a bottle of Bordeaux. You listened intently to his soothing Irish accent, entranced by the warmth of his voice.

"So, how long are you planning to stay in London?" you asked curiously, breaking the silence.

"I am heading back home tomorrow," Cillian replied, his eyes meeting yours.

"That's a shame," you murmured, your voice trembling.

"How so?" Cillian asked, glancing at you from across the room.

"Oh, no reason. I suppose, you know, London is fun and all. There is lots to see...," you stammered, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "But then again, I suppose it would be boring for someone like you, who travels all the time. I bet you get tired of seeing the same sights over and over again," you trailed off, wishing the awkwardness would evaporate.

Cillian became to notice your sudden nervousness and took a few steps toward you, sitting down beside you on the couch. With a playful grin, he teased, "So you think I get bored easily?"

You shook your head, biting your lower lip. "No, I didn't mean it like that," you stumbled over your words. "I just meant that traveling must get a little tiresome," you explained, averting your gaze.

"It can get tiresome, yes," Cillian conceded, "but, I wouldn't trade this life for a mundane life." He paused briefly, observing you carefully. "What about you?" he asked gently. "Will you be sticking around London long term?" he wanted to know.

"Yes, I plan to," you answered promptly, smiling sheepishly. "There's still a lot of studying to do before I finish med school," you went on to explain, hoping that he would understand the depth of your dedication.

In that moment, room service arrived and the waiter placed the bottle of red wine on the side table before pouring glasses for you and Cillian.

"Thanks," Cillian acknowledged politely, tipping the waiter generously. Once the room service attendant was gone, Cillian raised his glass in your direction. You reciprocated the gesture, both of you clinking glasses before taking a generous sip.

The velvety texture of the wine coated your tongue, releasing complex layers of flavor. It was delicious, reminiscent of blackberries and dark chocolate - a perfect match for the lingering tension between you and Cillian.

"This is really good. It aged well," you said, enjoying the smoothness of the wine, which was far better than the cheap plonk you usually drank.

"It sure did," Cillian chimed in, his appreciation evident in his voice before he continued with a cheeky grin, "I am glad you enjoy it. I wasn't sure if you would have preferred something else since most people your age do not usually appreciate wine," he said teasingly, taking another sip from his glass.

"People my age, huh?" you laughed, shaking your head. "I wonder why everyone thinks that," you mused, taking another sip of the wine. "I love drinking red wine but, maybe, it's my dad's influence," you confessed, grinning broadly. "He has shares in a winery in the South of France and it's a spectacular place to visit," you explained as you shifted slightly in your seat, moving closer towards Cillian slowly.

"Whatever it is, you seem incredibly mature for your age," Cillian remarked, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. "Your taste in music and wine, your intellect, your level of empathy, it's all rather remarkable," he went on to add, clearly impressed by your presence.

You blushed, feeling bashful under Cillian's steady gaze.

"Thanks, that means a lot coming from you," you said, taking another sip of your wine before saying "because you seem rather remarkable yourself," causing Cillian to smile warmly and his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"You're too kind," he responded, flashing a crooked grin. "But seriously, I'm impressed by your maturity and poise given your youth. It's rare to find such wisdom in someone of your generation," he said sincerely, sipping from his glass.

You blushed again, feeling a tad embarrassed under the weight of his compliments. "Well, I try to be sensible about things," you offered, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly. "Although coming up here with you wasn't exactly the most mature decision I made in recent weeks," you admitted, feeling your face redden while Cillian looked at you, tilting his head slightly.

"And why is that?" Cillian prodded, his curiosity piqued.

"Well, I suppose I am just not so sure where this would lead," you admitted, swallowing hard. "A drink could turn into another and then, I don't know, we might do something we both regret," you stammered nervously, feeling your cheeks flush hotly.

"I am married Y/N, and you used to date my son," Cillian replied quietly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I know," you whispered, the reality of the situation crashing down upon you. "It would be wrong, wouldn't it?" you choked out, fear tightening your chest.

"It would be," Cillian agreed somberly, meeting your gaze directly. "And yet, for some reason, I can't help but entertain the idea of taking this further," he confessed, his voice dropping to a whisper. His confession stunned you, leaving you breathless with surprise.

"Entertain the idea?" you echoed, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. "You mean the idea of you sleeping with me?" you breathed, your heart hammering erratically in your chest.

Cillian nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously as, suddenly, your stomach knotted with desire, your palms dampening with sweat.

"I am sorry Cillian, I need to use the bathroom," you mumbled, abruptly standing up from the couch, the spell broken by your awkward departure.

"Sure, of course," Cillian uttered distractedly, his gaze wandering aimlessly around the room. "Let me know if you need anything," he called out as you scurried away, feeling guilty and excited all at once.

As you entered the bathroom, you splashed cold water on your face, gasping with relief as the shock jolted you back to reality.

You leaned against the sink, staring blankly at your reflection in the mirror. "What am I doing?" you murmured, gripping the edge of the countertop tightly.

You dabbed the towel against your forehead, feeling the perspiration trickle down your temples. "This is crazy," you groaned, resting your elbows on the counter. "I'm acting like a teenager," you berated yourself, a knot forming in your gut.

You needed to gather your wits and leave. This was madness. But as you turned off the tap, the image of Cillian's sensual eyes lingered in your mind. You could feel his intense gaze on you, even now.

"Hey," Cillian knocked on the door, startling you. "Are you okay in there?" he asked, his voice thick with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you muttered, composing yourself. "I got a bit tipsy," you admitted behind closed doors while weighing up your options.

"Listen Y/N, I am sorry. I crossed a line that should not have been crossed," Cillian apologised from outside the bathroom door and it was at this point that you made a decision which you knew you would regret.

To be continued...

Tags:

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[hunkpossession0]

THE NEXT FOOTBALLER SWAP

From a distance, I watched him, my heart pounding with anticipation. For months, I had meticulously planned this—learning the ancient incantations, preparing my mind and body for the ultimate transformation. I was about to take something unimaginable: his body, his life, his very essence. The power to be someone else, someone stronger, someone admired and desired by many. The power to be him.

As Radu drifted into a light sleep, I seized my opportunity. The spell was on the tip of my tongue, each word whispered with a mixture of fear and excitement. A rush of energy coursed through me as the magic took hold. My vision blurred, my heart raced, and then, with a sensation like falling into warm water, I was no longer in my own body.

I was inside his.

When I opened my eyes again, everything felt different. My skin was warmer, my muscles tighter and more defined. I glanced down at the broad chest and strong, sinewy arms that now belonged to me. I couldn’t help but run my hands over the smooth, sculpted flesh, feeling the power and strength beneath. My new heartbeat pounded in my ears, echoing the realization that I had done it—I was Radu Drăgușin.

Standing up, I stretched, feeling the muscles ripple under my skin. Every movement felt sensual, fluid, as if this body had been crafted for both power and pleasure. The feeling of the warm sand beneath my feet, the breeze against my bare chest—it was all more vivid, more intense. My senses were heightened, every touch more electrifying than it had ever been before.

I made my way back to Radu's luxurious hotel suite, my new body moving with a grace and confidence that felt exhilarating. As I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I paused, admiring the tall, athletic figure staring back. I let my hands explore, tracing the firm ridges of my abs, the strong curve of my jawline. The sensation of my own touch was overwhelming, sending shivers of pleasure through me. This body was a masterpiece, and it was mine now.

That night, lying in Radu's bed, I marveled at how perfectly this body responded to my desires. Every sensation was amplified, every touch felt deeper, more intimate. I could feel the heat building inside me, an undeniable hunger that surged through my veins. I knew that with this body, there were no limits to what I could experience, no boundaries to the pleasures I could explore.

The next morning, I arrived at the Tottenham Hotspur training grounds, the anticipation of living Radu's life thrilling me to my core. As I interacted with the team, I felt their admiration, their respect—and their subtle envy. Radu's body was built for performance, and I reveled in how effortlessly it handled the rigors of training. Every sprint, every tackle, every stretch was a reminder of the physical perfection I now possessed.

But as the day ended and night fell, the true excitement began. Showered and dressed in a fitted shirt that clung to my powerful frame, I ventured into the heart of London’s nightlife. The city pulsed with energy, and so did I. My body drew eyes everywhere I went—men looking at me with desire, their gazes lingering on my sculpted chest, my strong thighs. The air around me buzzed with unspoken attraction, and I could feel the heat rising within me, igniting a fire that was impossible to resist.

In the dim light of the club, as the music throbbed and bodies pressed close, I let myself indulge in the intoxicating mix of power and desire. Men gravitated towards me, their touches sending electric thrills through my body. The way they looked at me, the way they whispered in my ear, made my pulse race. In Radu's skin, I was untouchable, unstoppable, and completely free to embrace the hidden desires I had kept secret for so long.

Each night became a sensual journey, exploring the depths of pleasure that this new body allowed me to experience. The taste of sweat and skin, the heat of another body close to mine, the satisfaction of knowing that I could have any man I wanted—all of it was mine to enjoy, over and over again.

I had become Radu Drăgușin, the football star, the object of countless desires. But I was also something more—something only I knew. In the privacy of my own thoughts, I relished the secret that this body was now mine, forever. The thrill of living this double life, of being the public athlete by day and indulging in hidden pleasures by night, was a heady, exhilarating rush that never dulled.

As I lay back in bed after another night of passion, the sheets tangled around my legs, I smiled to myself. This was my life now, a life filled with power, desire, and endless possibilities. I had taken Radu Drăgușin’s body, and I intended to enjoy every moment of it. This body was mine—and with it, every fantasy I had ever dreamed of was now within my reach.

[whorecrux-of-slytherin]

Slytherin Boys try to impress you with their idea of an ideal date.

(part.1) : Draco | Blaise | Theodore

Warning - mentions of kissing, slight toxic behaviour if you squint. This is not proof read, so kindly ignore any grammatical errors or typos

a/n . I have only included Draco, Blaise and Theo in this because if I add the rest of them ( Enzo, Matheo and Tom ) it'll be far too long. But for the most part I'm too lazy to write for everyone in one go. I don't mind writing a part 2 if someone requests. Also yes I made the mini mood boards 😌

Kindly do not copy my work.

DRACO MALFOY:

Draco Malfoy is the definition of generational wealth, so there's no doubt that he'd plan something romantic and lavish to spoil his partner.

He's not the best at expressing his feelings through words, so he loves making grand gestures in spoiling you. This is his way to show his upbringing and heritage; that he is worthy of your time and can treat you right.

Firstly he would pick you up personally then gift you a bouquet of your favourite flowers & something exquisite, like some custom made jewelry -an elegant bracelet maybe.

He'd go all out and book a private roof- top classic candle light dinner at the most famous and exclusive wizarding restaurants with the perfect view of the Eiffel tower in Paris. He'll hold your hand across the table, gently rub circles and occasionally give it a kiss. He also arranges for a pianist to play your favourite pieces.

After dinner, he would surprise you with a suite at a luxurious hotel to spend the night together. He'd run you both a bath and wash your hair for you while you enjoy some champagne and the most delicious macaroons you've ever had.

BLAISE ZABINI :

Blaise may come off as the most unbothered slytherin boy and honestly speaking, he is. But not when it comes to you.

You are special to him and he'd make it a point that you know. To prove this he would opt for an unconventional but romantic date night idea.

I just feel that he'd know how to drive a charmed car and owns a wide collection of vintage cars ( few from his ex step -fathers' as well). So he would take you on a romantic drive in the evening on his favourite classic vintage Porsche.

Both of you spend the night driving through the night sky watching the city lights of London; making conversations about what you like the most about each other.

Then he'd make a stop at one of his favourite spots secluded from the city to spend time watching you gaze at the stars and cuddling to get warmth from each other's bodies while he hums a soft tune.

He'd then drop you home safely but not before he kisses you passionately and say those three special words for the very first time.

THEODORE NOTT:

Theo is the pretty boy of the group. He is no doubt loaded with money- their family basically mints money for Gringotts from generations (so duh-) but he doesn't like to flash it the way Draco does.

He uses the 'dead mother' card to pull girls but in reality, he is quite the player. Deep down he at times, craves for female validation or attention. So he surrounds himself with different girls every few weeks so that he wouldn't get too attached to them.

But then he meets you and he just knows that you're the one for him. So he chases you down until you fall for him and now he wants to surprise you with the perfect date idea.

He invites you to his holiday home in Italy for the first time. The place where he grew up until his mother's death when he was 7 years old. He shows you around the huge property facing the sea and telling you about his childhood adventure there and secretly hopes that he would one day get to spend his life there with you.

He would then cook you dinner himself. Spaghetti- in the traditional Italian way with some vintage wine from his family's vineyard in the countryside.

..........................................................................................

Thanks for reading! 🤍

Do like, share and comment down about your thoughts 🤔💭

Who would you go on a date with and why?? 🐍

[fredwkong]

Genie: Javier's Wishes

Click here to see the genie’s first master.

Click here to see the genie's previous master.

When the club finally closed at 3 AM, Javier breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, now he had to clean the whole place after a night of metalhead raving, but after that, he could go home and get some blessed sleep before his shift at the grocery store in the morning.

Javier was putting himself through college. On paper, the job at the club was great, way better than his other stocking and retail jobs. For most of his shift, he could do his readings while making sure that the patrons didn’t get too randy in the bathroom every 20 minutes or so. Even so, the constant cycle of work, sleep, class, repeat was draining. More than anything, Javier wanted some time off to travel.

While tossing a bag of garbage out into the alley, a glimmer of light in the dimness caught Javier’s eye. Just to one side of the door, as if it had been dropped carelessly, was an antique lamp.

Javier picked it up and stuck it in his hoodie pocket. If nothing else, it seemed to be real brass. He could probably sell it. With heavy, tired feet, Javier finished with clean-up and headed home. Before he could even think to unpack his things, he collapsed on his bed.

It wasn’t until the next day, after a shift at the grocery store, afternoon classes, and an evening at his tutoring job, that Javier slumped at the desk in his studio apartment and took out the lamp.

The thing was definitely real brass. There was just one discoloured spot on the side. Javier grabbed a washcloth, but he had barely begun to rub it when a stream of rainbow smoke erupted from the spout. Seconds later, a buff genie in a pair of form-fitting satin pants and a billowy white shirt was hovering in the middle of Javier’s room.

“You know how this goes, right babe?” the genie said, grinning down at Javier. “You make a wish each day, and I make it come true.”

Javier barely had to think. He knew what he needed in his life. “I wish I could travel,” he told the genie.

“Perf,” replied the genie, and clapped his big hands. A burst of dark blue smoke shot from between his hands and then thickened, filling Javier’s vision. In particular, it centred on his old flip phone, the cheapest thing that he had been able to buy.

When the smoke cleared, Javier looked down at himself and was shocked to see that he was in a sharp business suit, holding a briefcase. Instead of his old apartment, he was standing in a hotel room. On the desk, a sleek new Samsung flip phone was open, an appointment blinking. Javier had to get to the airport to fly to London.

In the taxi, Javier took a few work calls. He found that the information he needed for his new job as a marketing professional appeared in his mind as he reached for it. But, by the time he boarded the plane, he realised that he had to create a presentation and do hours of research before he landed at Heathrow. Thankfully, the company paid for his business class seat and in-flight wifi.

After the meeting in London, it was only a few hours until Javier was on his way to a meeting in Lagos. From there, he flew to Kuala Lumpur, and then Hong Kong. It was three days before Javier was sitting on a plane without any pressing work tasks to complete. After so many flights, he wasn’t sure where he was flying to. He went into the airplane toilet and rubbed the lamp.

The genie appeared in the mirror, disdaining to diminish his bulk in the cramped quarters. “You got another wish?” he purred, grinning out at Javier.

“I wish I didn’t have to work,” Javier said, his voice slurring from tiredness.

“Haven’t heard that one before.” The genie winked, and the vent in the bathroom issued a cloud of dark blue smoke. Instead of a suit, Javier found himself in perfectly fitted loungewear as the tiny commercial toilet expanded into a luxurious bathroom. Stepping out of the door, Javier stood in the bedroom of a private jet decorated in a classy, understated style.

A cute young man in a steward uniform stepped into the room. “Can I help with anything, sir?”

“Please, just call me Javi,” Javi said, the words seeming to fall from his lips unbidden in a smooth, laid-back tone. “And no, I’ll call if I need anything.” The full-size bed and fresh satin sheets were calling to him.

After a nap, Javi felt refreshed. The plane was coming in to land in some exotic locale or another. As a trust fund baby with several million dollars in the bank, Javi loved to fly from place to place around the world as the mood took him. He would just stay at a local resort until he got bored and flew out again.

And yet, all the days of partying and living it up felt strangely empty. Javi found himself remembering his life before the genie. All his classmates, friends, and coworkers still living from paycheque to paycheque while Javi ate off of plates worth more than they made in a year. Still, even his indescribable wealth wasn’t enough to support all of them for the rest of their lives. Not if Javi wanted to live as he was becoming accustomed to. So he summoned the genie.

“I wish I could help my friends.”

“Finally, something I can work with,” the genie groaned dramatically, and snapped his fingers.

Instantly, Javi’s vision filled with dark blue smoke. There was a wrenching sensation as he seemed to be pulled across a great distance. When his vision cleared, Javi found himself seated in a well-appointed lounge. He was in a perfectly tailored, fashionable suit, and looked over the rims of his round sunglasses as another young suited man entered.

“Your Highness,” the man said, making Javi’s head spin, “announcing tonight’s young lords.”

Behind him, two more men, some of Javi’s old coworkers from the grocery store, entered. They had fresh haircuts and were wearing perfectly tailored suits that left nothing about their trim bodies to the imagination. Javi found his mouth watering.

The memories rushed in. In order to help the most people in his circle, Javi had used his trust fund to establish a sort of feudal fraternity. He was the Prince, and beneath him were a selection of Dukes who invested in Counts, Viscounts, and Barons. This way, the money went farther, and there was a sense of decorum among Prince Javi’s modern “nobility.”

Of course, judging by the way the two Barons being presented before him tonight were undressing him with their eyes, appearances could only be kept up so long. The Prince was owed his due from those sworn to his service, and Javi could feel his cock hardening in his wool slacks. “Take this to the vault,” he told the steward, one of the rotating Dukes, handing him the lamp. “My lords, with me.” Javi crooked a finger at his Barons and led them to the adjoining playroom.

The Duke handed the lamp off to the nearest non-noble staff member, who took the next exit out of Prince Javi’s court/club. He had been planning to steal some silverware before leaving, but this was a much better haul.

Click here to see all the genie’s adventures.

[mensministry]

Sir Paul Smith Suite at Brown’s Hotel, Mayfair, London,

Sir Paul Smith in collaboration with Olga Polizzi

[wellourgerdes]

Karma Sanctum Soho Hotel London

Karma Sanctum Soho Hotel, London, UK This stylish boutique hotel, once two magnificent Victorian townhouses, is located 100 metres from Regent Street’s shops, 4 minutes’ walk from Piccadilly Circus, and 6 minutes’ walk from Oxford Circus tube station.   Chic modern rooms come in various sizes and styles, from suites with round beds to small rooms with wet areas. All have minibars, Wii consoles,…

[fayes-fics]

Show Them All

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Err, window sex? That's all I've got tbh...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, dom/sub, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dirty talk, vaginal sex.

Word Count: 1.7k

Authors Note: While my muse was not cooperating a couple of weeks ago I used Discord kink roulette wheels and it served the following: Benedict + modern + exhibitionism. So here's what I came up with for that. This is set in the same universe as Coming Home. It's all under the cut as its filth from the first sentence. Enjoy! <3

The glass is cold against your nipples. A contrast to the hot hand buried in your hair, fingernails gently scratching the base of your scalp in a way that makes your whole body tingle. He leans forward.

“Show them,” he dusks into your ear, teething your lobe as he does so. “Show them all how much you want it.”

He leans his upper body away slightly but presses his pelvis snug to your bare bottom to underline his command, making you exhale raggedly, puffing fleeting circles of mist onto the floor-to-ceiling window pane.

The skyline of London glitters all around you. In this luxury hotel penthouse suite, there are probably hundreds of windows in the surrounding buildings. Any of them could contain someone looking at you right now—could see this debauched tableau. You completely naked, him fully clothed, standing behind you, teasing you with strokes of his solid cock straining under luxury fabric. 

So you do as told. Widen your stance and go up on tiptoes, tilting your hips and grinding backwards into him. Shamelessly, silently begging to be fucked.

“That’s it,” he urges, cadence decadent, the hand in your hair sliding heavily down your spine, mapping your contours, then spanking the side of your bare bum cheek as you writhe. “My desperate little one. What do you need?”

“You, sir,” your response is an instant reflex, hands streaking down the pristine glass as you attempt to find leverage for your movements.

“No. Be specific,” he warns with a taunting tone.

“Your cock, sir,” you amend breathily.

“That’s right, little one” 

You can almost hear his triumphant smirk. You grind harder in a circular motion, hoping to goad him into action. He harshly spanks your right cheek, making you jump. You want to squeal with victory when he stills your movements, and you feel him lowering his zip, knowing he wears no underwear. He never does; claims it’s easier, so he can just unzip and take you anytime he wants. Which, to be fair, he does with refreshing regularity. 

Just last night, he ordered you into his lap as soon as you located your seats in the practically deserted cinema. Cockwarming him under your maxi dress through a two-hour film, your pussy weeping. Every laugh he made, you felt inside and wanted to curse his name, mindless with need. But you obediently sat still, leaning back into him; a reward always comes your way. And surely enough, as the credits rolled, he made you orgasm silently, his fingers strumming your swollen clit, your fluttering muscles massaging his cock, taking him over the edge too.

Now, tonight, he wants you to put on another show. Perform for him. Potentially for others, too. And fuck if it doesn’t arouse you to a nearly painful degree to do so. You want the world to know. When you play like this, it’s the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had. You eagerly do things you never imagined you would.

“Do you see anyone watching?” he queries, his cock now in his hand, teasing you with his tip.

You refocus your eyes to look out, to see if you have an audience. While you are scanning, something catches your eye. In but some expensive modern flat, a young couple is looking up from their bedroom window. Their place looks as sleek as your suite, maybe more so.

“Yes,” you hiss, a ripple of excitement passing through your being at the idea you have an audience, an attractive one, too. “A young couple.”

“Give them a good show then, my girl,” he challenges, holding his cock at your puffy, weeping channel. “You know what to do,” he adds casually.

With a steadying exhale, you line up with his guidance and sink backwards onto his cock, moaning as you do. Every time, it feels like it’s too much, stretching you wide, feeling every contour as you sink. Keep pressing until his tip nudges the top of your channel; your bum now flush with his body, the tiny metallic teeth of his trouser zipper grazing your bum cheek.

“Good girl,” This time, it’s gravelly, broken.

You look down at the couple and see them fondling each other as they continue to stare up at you. Part of you wants to wave in acknowledgement; part of you doesn’t want to do anything to discourage them. 

“Move my girl,” he reminds, a hand wrapping around your hipbone, fingers flexing in a pattern to indicate how you should move.

So you do. Hands on the glass, you pull forward until just his tip is inside you, then push backwards, spearing yourself onto him, rolling your eyes as you do, your toes scrunching on the cool, shiny quartz floor. 

“Where are they?” he asks as you begin at a languid pace. 

“Over to the left, that grey building, about four storeys down,” you huff as you fuck yourself onto him.

He seems to be scanning the scene, then makes a little triumphant noise in his throat when he spies who you mean.

“Oh my girl, they are touching each other,” he preens, his breathing uneven where you push back into him, more insistent now. 

He changes his stance, a hand rounding low on your belly as he crowds into your back.

“Let’s give them a real show, hmm?” he murmurs.

You cry out as he thrusts so vigorously that you rock onto your tiptoes, hands scrabbling on the smooth glass for purchase. His arms band tight around your torso and heave you back onto him as he starts to fuck into you fiercely, setting the pace now.

“Don’t look anywhere but them,” he commands as you whimper under his frenzied movements, caged in his strong embrace. You can barely move; just hang on as he fucks deep; he feels so steely as he plunges hard, thrusting you open vehemently, skirting that line of pleasure-pain that is so intoxicating.

You tilt your head down to look at them. They are naked now and hands buried between legs, their gaze intent on you, 

“Describe what you see, my girl; I need detail,” he huffs, his punishing speed never wavering.

“They… they are naked,” you begin, each word tremulant between heaving breaths.

“And?” It’s stern; he wants more.

“Hands are between legs,” you add, panting now and rapidly losing the ability to do anything but moan and go limp.

“Like this,” he silks, and you cry out as his fingertips brush your clit.

“Yes sir, oh fuck…” your whole body jolting as if struck by lightning, “don’t stop please, please,” you plead, spiralling dizzily fast towards your peak as he flicks your swollen soaked pearl, aching to come.

As you approach that mindless moment, he stills his hand motions, and you wail instinctively.

“Earn it,” he growls, still thrusting into you so powerfully that your body rolls in his arms with each stroke. “Tell me in detail what they are doing,” he clarifies, angling his head to suck on your neck. “Then I will let you come screaming.” 

He can clearly see for himself exactly what the other couple are doing. But he wants to hear you say it. Describe it. A thrill for him to listen to you struggle to talk dirty as he fucks you roughly.

“Th-they are on the bed now, but they are still looking at us. I think they are fucking. One is on top of the other; they are moving rhythmically,” you stutter out, seeing their bodies moving in an undulating motion, 

“Yessss, my girl,” he grits triumphantly, “you did that. Begging for my cock like you did. Are you proud? You should be,”

“Yes, sir.” blooming under his praise.

“My good girl,” he moans, his breath gusting hard into your nape from the sustained effort.

“Please, sir, your fingers,” you implore, ”you promised.” You whine, unashamed how wanton you sound.

His chuckle into your hair is rich. “Okay, okay, my darling girl. I can feel how much you need it,” he acknowledges.

Then he touches your clit, and it’s like a live wire. He grunts and has to hold you down on his thrusting cock as you buck and squeal, so much pent-up arousal you are already over-sensitive. You do exactly as he said you would—coming screaming after just a few seconds. Thrown metaphorically into a tornado, your whole body shuddering and convulsing in his stronghold. He swears and bites your neck, the convulsing constriction of your cunt too much to withstand. Overwhelmed by the sheer strength of you rippling around him, he loses control and comes hard, too, jolting deep within you, snarling into your ear, hands vice-like on your body.

“Fuckkkkkk,” he exhales raggedly as you feel his warm bloom inside. “I had plans to keep fucking you until you came again, ” he gusts, winded, smushing you into the glass, his weight slumped into yours, chest heaving against your spine.

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling genuinely contrite.

“Don’t be,” he reassures with a kiss on your cheek as his softening cock slips from inside you. “Don’t ever apologise for making me come,” he smiles, and you giggle; your play scene finished. You are just back to yourselves - just you and sweet Ben. 

“They are done too,” he observes wryly after a few moments, casually nodding to the couple below, who seem to be lying entwined and spent.

“Should we give them a thumbs up?” You jest, twisting to catch his eye, a mischievous glint there that you know is agreement.

Without another word, both of you turn with goofy grins and hold both thumbs aloft at the couple. 

“Shit,” Benedict guffaws as you watch them startle and almost fall off the bed in shock, diving under the covers. “Guess they didn’t realise we were watching them too,” he assesses bemused.

You turn around in his arms to face him and kiss lazily, a sated hum in your being. 

“Next time, tie me up,” you request; he loves it when you voice new scenes that appeal to you.

“You want me to fuck you against this window bound in rope?” He checks, a playful eyebrow rising as an enthralled smile claims his handsome features.

“Please,” you nod happily, “your binding is so beautifully intricate; it deserves an audience.”

“I love you,” he responds, his tone devout.

You tilt your forehead to his, smiling over his lips. “I love you too, Benedict.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

One: Finn

King’s College

London, England

“So, to wrap up…”

It was nearly a half hour too early, but Finn was tired. This class wasn’t clicking with him, not like his 11:00 o’clock. Maybe it was because it was nearly Christmas holidays. Not even a week left. The students were sluggish. They were giddy. They wanted to go home so badly—homemade meals and presents and holiday markets—that it didn’t even occur to them to think anything other than that Professor O’Hara would want to do the same.

Finn didn’t want to go home. Home wasn’t there to go to. Just a building now. Just a room.

“Um.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I know this is the last reading of the semester guys, but let’s at least try to be a little comprehensive. Austen is badass, okay?” They laughed. Somehow, swearing always worked to crack open a class’ shell. And Finn was an expert. “Give the ending what it deserves.”

He looked up when no one said anything. Hands were on bags, poised to go, and it ticked something wrong inside of him. He wanted out, too, but he didn’t know where. “All right. See you on Wednesday for our final class.”

Even before he finished speaking, people were leaping out of their chairs. He’d expect half attendance. Tops. He tried to clean up his desk quickly. Tried not to forget anything here.

You’re always leaving something, mon amour, aren’t you?

“Professor O’Hara?”

Finn looked up. “Oh, hey, Martha.”

Martha. He could always count on Martha. She was a third year, took almost all of his classes. She was smart, if not a little eager and quick to cut her classmates off.

“I just wanted to say that I won’t be here on Wednesday. I have a pretty long way to go, and the flight was cheaper. I hope you don’t think I’m ditching.”

He could almost always count on Martha.

“Nah, of course not.” Finn picked up his books. “Have a good break.”

“Thanks. Um. And this is for you.”

She was holding out a tin. Cookies, probably. Or, biscuits, as they called them here. It was always something with her. Last year, she’d given him a scarf and he really had thought he’d have to sit her down and firmly say that, not only was he her teacher, but he had a husband.

Finn almost laughed. Almost.

Mon Rouge, they all have crushes on you. Don’t even pretend you don’t know that. Hands in his hair, familiar mouth on his cheek. But you always come home to me. All for me?

“Thanks that’s really kind of you.” He dredged up a smile. He took the tin. “Happy holidays.”

“Are you and your husband doing anything special?”

A strange cotton-buzz started up in his ears.

Martha blinked, a little confused, and pointed tentatively at the background on Finn’s phone, which had lit up with an email.

“That’s your husband right? You always mention him—or—sometimes you do. And he came to our class once, remember? Last year. I think he’d just gotten back from a business trip and he surprised you. It was so cute, everyone was talking about it for ages.”

Finn remembered that. Logan had been gone for a month. A month. Remember when he thought a month of spaced out phone-calls from strange numbers was difficult to deal with? Last week, someone had gotten a wrong number at 9:30 at night and Finn had sobbed himself to exhaustion on the kitchen floor. Hope was stubborn, it was so stubborn.

“Yes,” Finn said. “I remember.”

He stared at the phone background. Logan, early in the morning. About a year and a half ago now, Finn had received a ticket to Spain with a little heart drawn on it. It had brought him straight to Logan and the most luxurious hotel he’d ever set eyes on. Private suit. Private pool. A whole week, just the two of them. No sudden phone calls, no pulling the go-bag out from the back of their closet, no apologetic smiles, and no last kisses that Finn knew, despite all of his efforts, would fade eventually.

Logan, early in the morning. On the balcony, softer than the sunrise. Oh, that smile. Finn couldn’t do this. How was he doing this alone?

He needed to start telling people. More than their families, people in his daily life. He had been given a story by the agency and everything. It was the story given to Logan’s family. His parents. His three older sisters. God, Noelle’s voice on the phone, the two of them crying to each other. The one Finn had stumbled through for his brother Alex and his parents. He needed to. Logan Tremblay had died in a freak accident while overseas for work. He’d been killed on impact and had felt no pain. He had died overseas. Finn had seen the body, that was how the story went. Finn had seen it off the plane and he’d correctly identified him.

But there had been no body.

Only silence, which felt just as dead.

“I don’t know.” Martha shrugged. “Beach trip?”

Finn managed to shake his head. “No.” He swallowed. He put his hand against his chest. Logan’s necklace rested there. It was a ritual that he guessed was dead, too. Logan put the fleur-de-lis pendant, silver, around Finn’s neck every time he left. Finn placed it back around Logan’s every time Logan came home. “The usual.” That wasn’t really an answer at all. “Family.”

“Oh, lovely.”

He was planning on going to New York. His brother Alex and his family would be there. His parents. He thought his mom’s sister, too, maybe. What he would do there, he didn’t know. It would all be absences. One after another. Oh God.

“Have a great vacation, Martha,” Finn said. He grabbed his phone, and his notes, not bothering to even put them back in his bag. The tin of cookies. “Don’t worry about next class. You’re ahead anyway.” He didn’t know if that was true.

In his office, Finn shrugged into his jacket. He paused, looking at the green scarf on his office’s coatrack.

Two hands pulling him in.

“I didn’t know you were back,” Finn said against Logan’s mouth.

“No one ever knows where I am.” Logan smiled into their kiss. “That’s kind of the point.”

Finn came to—and it was like that, like waking up from a horrible sleep every time—from the force of catching himself with his palm against his desk. His chest hurt. He should tell someone about this. About losing time like this to memories he knew better than his own present. The tears came like this sometimes, too, unstoppable. He sent a glance towards the the small window in his door, but the blind was shut. He kept it that way now for this exact reason. The first breath heaved out of him and he sucked it right back in, dropping to a knee.

Happy holidays, happy holidays, happy holidays.

It was cold enough to feel like Christmas was coming. Finn hoped he didn’t look too horrible in the evening light as he made his way towards the Underground. His bag felt heavy and his eyes still felt warm from crying. Had it been crying? Part of him wondered—and sometimes he dreamed—that he was reliving Logan’s death somehow. Like if Logan had had to go through something, he needed to go through it, too. Maybe he had drowned. Or suffocated. Killed by someone? An accident? A cover-up, dragged through an backroad, buried in a shallow grave—Finn was about to get pulled under again, hand already against the brick wall, when a voice said his name.

He looked up, the wind brushing his hair off of his forehead. It was snowing, he realized, very lightly, and he had to blink against it to see who had called to him.

He actually didn’t recognize them at first. He supposed that was their job. Shifting shadows. A million different identities at once, depending on what they wanted a target to see. Not that he was a target. Their clothes were unimpressive, nothing to be remembered. No long dark coats, no hats. James didn’t have his glasses on and Sirius’ black hair was ruffling back in the wind. He might remember how handsome they both were, if he was a stranger.

But he wasn’t. Those were Logan’s team members, and Finn wasn’t supposed to know that.

Finn couldn’t look them directly in the eye as he approached. They waited for him.

“What are you doing here?” Finn asked. Logan?Logan?Logan?

James said nothing, but Sirius took something out of his pocket and handed it to Finn.

It was a photograph of Remus Lupin. Remus. Finn had really liked Remus, and so—he looked up at grey eyes—had Sirius.

“This was captured on a bank security camera in Athens,” Sirius said.

That’s where Remus and Logan had been. Accident. Not recovered. No more information. Back road? Shallow grave? Shot in the back of the head? Bruised wrists from tight ropes? Plastic bag struggle—

“What,” Finn began but had to cut off. It was happening—was it? Again. The panic. The sick sadness. The air just…went. Disappeared. Just like Logan. “Does this tell us what happened?”

He couldn’t stand the way Sirius hesitated. He reached out and gripped his arm. He didn’t feel like a ghost like Finn had expected him to.

“Does this tell us how they…” Finn whispered.

James stepped forward, hazel eyes looking so different without his glasses. “It was taken five days ago, Finn.”

[medusapelagia]

Separate Ways - NSFW -Ch 1/22

Here we are... after 9 months my baby is finally here! This is my fic for the @bigbangharringrove! A huge thanks to my incredible artist @lemonhitsu (without whom I would have probably dropped out ages ago and who made this beautiful moodboard) and thank you so much to @bottombillyapologist for being my beta!

Summary: Steve Harrington is a famous model whose live depends on his manager and (more or less) lover, Tommy Hagan. After a bar fight, he meets Officer William Hargrove, recently transferred to the NY Police Department and with a deep personal experience with a violent environment, who can clearly see the signs of domestic violence in Steve's relationship with Tommy. Determined to help the pretty boy escape from his abusive relationship, Billy gets closer and closer to Steve.

READ ON AO3

A little snippet under the cut

Steve Harrington is the most booked runway model in the world.   His face and his body are everywhere. On billboards, on magazine covers, and plastered  over ads at bus stops.   Steven Joseph Harrington, twenty-fourth years old, is the richest model in the world.  And he is about to celebrate his achievement with Tommy: Tommy Hagan, his high school friend, was the one that pushed him to pursue a modeling career and now, somehow, he owns his life. He is the one that chooses which campaign Steve is going to do a photo shoot for or which fashion show is worthy of his presence. He is the one that chooses every single thing that Steve eats. He books trainers for him when they travel abroad.   Paris, Milan, London, New York— he doesn’t have to worry about anything. Tommy books the flight— always business class— and the hotels, always luxury suites. All Steve has to do is show up and let Tommy take care of him.   It’s not bad, it's just... sometimes Steve would like to do something different from  walking on the runways or training in the gym. He used to play basketball, but Tommy  completely prohibited him from contact sports: they can't risk someone  elbowing him in the face before a fashion show.   He’s not wrong. But Steve loved team sports. He had a lot of friends, but now he feels like he has no friends left.   But he still has Tommy. And Tommy would never leave him.  

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds: Chapter Twelve

Din Djarin x F!Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Summary: When filming overruns and conspires to keep Din from the fun weekend he planned for you, he agonises over his decision. Fortunately, he manages to salvage the weekend, even after a calamity involving a rowboat...

Word Count: 13k ❁ Rating: Teen ❁ Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption, suggestive language. ❁ Author's Note: This is a very long one but I regret nothing, and I just reached 100k for this fic! Quite a milestone and I still feel nowhere near done, really. I get slightly carried away writing these two but I cannot resist. They're so cute, and writing their love fills me with so much joy! Thanks to @decembermidnight for being my beta. I appreciate your help amo!

12. The Calm [Din's POV]

Din tapped his brown boot anxiously against the carpeted floor of his room at the studios. He watched helplessly as the minutes ticked by on the large white clock that hung over the door, powerless to do anything but sit there as the original time he had arranged to meet you ticked by. The new time he had set came and went. Then, the time after that, too. 

The Friday evening that Din had planned and the one which was unfolding before him were worlds apart from what he had originally intended.

 First, Din planned to meet you after work and take you to the hotel he had booked. In a break from tradition, this time he had made the reservation under his name. Din had taken the precaution to avoid a repeat of the situation when a bottle of champagne had been delivered with Jim’s name emblazoned across it. After that, Din had planned an entire weekend of fun for the two of you. There would be some sightseeing and good food enjoyed by both of you. It would be the break both of you needed.

Din had even taken the luxurious step of booking a second suite for Grogu and Kuiil so that the two of you could enjoy some privacy in your room. After checking in, if you two could keep your hands off each other long enough to head out, Din had planned to take you for dinner. It was nowhere too pretentious but just something to help you wind down after a difficult week with some good food. Then he had booked a tour of London for the following day for him and Grogu and you, before an evening in the spa. Din hoped that it would be the exact treat you needed, given how hectic you had told him work was. Alas, it seemed that the universe had other ideas.

Now, Din was trapped at the studios, while you had finished work with no one to greet you. Din felt terrible. He knew how much you had been looking forward to seeing him. Even though it was far beyond his control, he still felt guilty. Din hated when plans were not kept to and schedules not followed. The uncertainty was by far the most distressing part of it all.

Din’s foul mood was not helped by the fact that it had been a particularly stressful day on set. One of those days when nothing was going smoothly and every shot seemed to be wrong. The most frustrating thing was that it was not one individual’s fault. Din Djarin was not the kind of man to lash out at people, his fury simmered deep below the surface. Yet, at least if there was someone for him to silently fume at, it may have distracted his agitated mind from the rage that bubbled within him.

The problems on set were not caused by a case of incompetence, of people not doing their jobs properly. The scenes were taking much longer to film than expected due to the intricate set. With so many components, it took so long to rearrange between takes and  the cast and crew had to do a lot of waiting around. After each take, involving several stunts as Mando was tasked with fighting off a horde of enemies, the entire set was practically destroyed. It was a thoroughly frustrating process for all involved.

The hours that Din was required to be present on set had kept extending further throughout the day and now they were eating into precious time with you, a thoroughly unacceptable outcome. 

While Din was frustrated that he was letting you down, he was downright devastated about the impact such a turn of events was surely having on Grogu. Din knew that his son was safe and being cared for at home with Kuiil, which was a relief. Yet, the separation anxiety that he felt when he was away from his boy was something that he had never managed to get comfortable with. Being away from Grogu caused Din to feel tremendously guilty 

The only small comfort came from knowing that Grogu was with Kuiil, there was no one else – bar you, perhaps – that Din would trust more with his son.

Din was also relieved to know, courtesy of a picture you had sent him showing you in the hot tub, that you had successfully checked into the rooms at the hotel that he had booked. It was nice to know that the amenities weren’t going to waste, at least.

Yet, the selfie had caused Din further anguish, in a very different sense. Seeing the warm expanse of your skin, tantalisingly bare in the selfie, which revealed enough without being downright explicit, was causing his frustration levels to grow. How unfair that he was stuck here, while you looked so beautiful and all alone in that suite. Din was just grateful for how understanding and patient you were with him. Still, it didn’t give him bountiful new reserves of patience.

Din was irritable and lonely. The extended hours were miserable when he couldn’t even hang around with the rest of the cast without constantly fearing that his cover was to be blown. Peli was not required for this episode and Din missed his best friend. Din was alone with his thoughts as he frantically paced his room, waiting for a runner to fetch him when things were set up for the next take.

The knock on the door however does not herald the news that Din was hoping for, as an apologetic crew member informs Din that they were calling it a night and everyone would be required to return to set the following morning. Despite how frustrated he is, Din does not take it out on the young man who appears incredibly apologetic at the inconvenience. He knew that the crew member must have pulled the short straw to have to confront a fully armoured Mandalorian with such news.

As Din finally took a seat in the car that would drive him the short distance to his home, he was tired and irritated. Although he was careful not to take it out on the driver, Din is frustrated that he had spent hours longer away from Grogu than he had wanted, that he was forced into cancelled plans with you and even after both of those things, he had been told that he would have to return the following day. Not having anyone to blame it made it even worse. There was no one to silently seethe at and curse for their incompetence.

When Din eventually returned to his cottage it was almost midnight. After relieving Kuiil of his duties, Din wasted no time and immediately headed upstairs to his son’s room. Despite the old man’s reassurances that Grogu had gone to sleep without a hitch, Din knew that he would not be able to sleep without seeing that his boy was okay. It was a force of habit, a nervous question that needed answering. 

Fortunately, when Din peeked around the doorframe, he was greeted with the soothing sight of his son sleeping peacefully. Grogu’s breaths were even, indicating that he was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the turmoil that his father was experiencing. Din could not resist making sure that Grogu was tucked in and comfortable, kissing his son’s head carefully before he headed for a few fitful hours of rest himself.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Despite beginning the morning in as optimistic a mood as he could muster, Din soon discovered that the next day on set would run no smoother than the last. 

He had returned to set what felt like only minutes after he had left. The cast and crew were being pushed to their limits of endurance, hardly having any rest between arduous days of filming. Unfortunately, such a demanding schedule was necessary due to the tight deadline that was looming over them from the executives who were near-unanimously despised by practically everyone on set.

The fact that their well-being was shunned in favour of satisfying goals and targets set mostly by people who had never stepped foot on a set in their entire lives was a fact that irritated Din. It made him rue the day he had ever decided to work for such a mega-corporation. But he had. He was here now. That fact could not be helped. 

Fortunately, Din believed that the weekend was still salvageable. If the shoot was concluded in the middle of the afternoon, there would still be time for him to join you for a portion of the tour and then dinner. He thought it was pointless to ruin Grogu and Kuiil’s weekend too, so the two of them had left to join you that morning. Din was relieved to know that you were not completely alone. The selfie you had sent him confirming their arrival had certainly buoyed Din’s spirits.

After lunch, Din returned to the set, optimistic that the stars would align and he would be able to join you as quickly as he wanted to. 

Unfortunately, those hopes were soon scuppered. The shoot was just not moving as quickly as it should have been. With the way things were progressing, there was no way Din would be able to make it to the hotel before the evening. 

With his tail between his legs after the latest disastrous take, Din retreated to his room. Once he had secured the door, he pulled his phone out to call you, his heart aching as he did so.

“Hi, Sunflower,” Din said, as soon as you answered.

“Hi, Din,” you cheerily responded.

Din felt terrible at the excitement that was palpable in your voice. After all, he had texted you that morning and said that he would ring you when he had news. Judging by the tone of your voice, you assumed it was good news. Unfortunately, you were about to be bitterly disappointed. Din braced himself for the news he had to impart to you.

“I’m so sorry about this but it looks like I’m going to be held up at work even longer than I was hoping. Looks like I might be able to join you at around eight if things go well, but no guarantees. I hate to let you down,” Din sighed, his voice cracking with guilt.

The heavy sigh Din heard down the phone made him feel even more anguished. He knew that you hoped just as much as he did that things would go differently today. Instead here he was, letting you down again.

“It’s okay, Din,” you said quietly, “I know it isn’t your fault. It seems like your job is unpredictable, I know you would be with me if you could be.”

“Thank you for being so understanding,” Din said, gratefully.

“Don’t worry, honey. I understand. Work is work, these things happen,” you said sympathetically.

Din knew you didn’t understand, that was the entire problem. It made him feel so much worse about the entire situation. He knew that if he had just been honest and told you the truth that day when he had planned to, there was a chance you could have journeyed to his cottage to await his return with Grogu. Instead, due to Din’s cowardice, there you both were; miserable and missing each other when you were both in the same city. It was all so needlessly painful.

Still, Din knew that you had Kuiil and Grogu with you at least. It went some way to soothing his anguish.

“Besides, I have Grogu and Kuiil here for company now,” you added brightly, “We’re heading out on a tour shortly.”

“Sounds wonderful, Sunflower,” Din smiled, “I wish I could join you.”

“I wish you could too, Din,” you sighed. “I can’t wait to see you. I really hope you can be here tonight, I was so lonely in this big hot tub. It’s far too big for one person,” you add flirtatiously.

“Ugh, don’t, Sunflower,” Din murmured warningly. “If it was under my control I’d be there in an instant,” Din rasped, his voice suddenly husky with want.

“I know you would be, Din. We’ll be together soon,” you reassured him. With your sweet voice reassuring him, Din almost dares to believe it himself. 

Unfortunately, before his conversation with you can continue in any more optimistic terms, there is a knock at the door. Duty calls as Mando is required on set.

“Got to go, a colleague is calling me. I’ll see you soon, Sunflower,” Din said, repeating your reassuring words to you, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Din. Bye,” you reply.

Din sat there for a few seconds after hanging up. While he still felt awful about letting you down, he would never tire of hearing you tell him that you loved him. It went some way to soothing his anguished state of mind. Yet there was another part of him that felt intensely guilty for his failure, to be honest with you. 

Despite your words suggesting otherwise, the pain in your voice as you reassured him that it was fine made Din feel awful. Even worse than that was the bright way you had reassured him that you understood how unpredictable his job could be. Your innocence broke his heart. 

Even more so because Din knew how much you had been looking forward to a little getaway with him. You had texted him many times that week, complaining about how stressful work was for you. It seemed that the final rush before the summer holidays ended had brought all kinds of families and their children to the museums. Din had consoled you as you complained to him about how you were expected to provide information and be personable to them all, despite how difficult they could sometimes be. It sounded far more draining than his job. Although doing stunts for a Hollywood production was physically demanding and required a lot of fitness, Din did not have to be personable. He could hide his face. Those two things were enormously important for him. If he had to face the world as you did, he was sure that he would not last a day. 

Din replaced his helmet and headed back out onto the set. He pushed his shoulders back and transformed into a stoic Mandalorian warrior, rather than the anxious, frustrated man he was beneath all of the beskar… 

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

It was almost entirely dark by the time Din was finally heading towards central London. Towards you.

Knowing that it would not be long until the two of you were reunited was causing little bubbles of excitement to spread throughout Din’s stomach. He could not wait to spend what remained of the weekend alongside you and was practically giddy with excitement. 

Of course, Din enjoyed the domestic bliss whenever you visited his cottage in Nevarro. It was homely and comfortable. Yet he loved the thought of booking a luxurious room for the pair of you in one of the most exclusive hotels in London just as much. When Din had initially moved to London, he felt self-conscious and uneasy that such luxuries were at his disposal. However, since he had started dating you, he had become more grateful for such extravagances.

Din had always relished being a provider. Whether that be for his covert of Mandalorians or his son. Now he had someone else to provide for: his Sunflower. 

He loved to take care of you at the weekend, after a long week of work. It went some way to alleviating the guilt that he felt at being paid many times more than your salary to do something that was, on the surface, a lot less demanding than the job you did. 

Although the stunts Din was required to perform could be physically demanding on occasion, it was nothing compared to some of the arduous jobs he had had in the real world. It was all scripted and risks were assessed before the cameras ever began rolling. Since he had started his role as The Mandalorian, Din had been pampered in a way that was unusual to him, unfamiliar. Din had never been luxuriated in his entire life. It took some getting used to, to know that there were so many things such as the opulent hotel he had booked for the two of you that was available to him on only a moment’s notice. 

It was an enormous contrast from the simple, solitary existence he had led for most of his life. Yet Din was becoming more used to this life and the luxuries that were on offer to him. As the hotel came into view through the window, Din found himself looking forward to a relaxing weekend there as much as he was looking forward to seeing you again. 

All of the amenities were tantalising, especially when Din was so exhausted. He had been looking forward to this break all week, knowing that it would provide the rest and recuperation he so badly needed. The endless hours on set had proved incredibly stressful, Not just due to the scenes he was filming and the stunts he was required to do, but also the fact he had to be separated from Grogu for so many hours per day. So Din needed this break just as much as badly as he knew you did. He needed the time with his son and the opportunity to recuperate after filming for the final episode had been so intense. The stunts and physical acting were taking it out of him, though Din would certainly prefer that to the numerous children that he knew you had to deal with every week. 

He couldn’t wait to take advantage of the spa and room service. Din knew that if you wanted to, neither of you would have to move a muscle for the entire weekend. Well, apart from the muscles Din knew that he would use in pursuit of your pleasure. 

It would be utterly blissful, especially because Grogu and Kuiil would have their own space while Din enjoyed your company in the privacy of your room. Staying in this hotel was the escape from real life that Din relished. It was something that he did not feel anywhere else. Whenever you visited his cottage out in the country the times spent together were a blissful sense of domesticity that Din did not feel like he deserved. Still, it was preferable to spending time in your flat, a place where Din had never felt comfortable. Not due to its size or simplicity but because of the poster that adorned the walls. 

So, to be granted an opportunity to escape your normal lives and just enjoy each other’s company here was a luxury that Din was immensely grateful for.

After exiting the car, Din practically sprinted through the hotel towards you. He could not wait to be back with you again. Gone were the times when he would stress about exposing his identity when he gave his name at check-in. You were waiting for him upstairs.

Now, nothing was stopping Din from being back with you again once again. 

He smiled at the thought that he was only moments away from seeing you again and taking you in his arms. It would have been even sooner if the elevator would hurry up and arrive. Din tapped his foot frustratedly on the polished marble floor as he waited for it to arrive in the lobby with a ding.

When it finally did, he did not waste a second before he hastily entered and pressed the number of the floor you were staying in. His heart thundered as he made his way through the corridor, towards your room. Din feared it might well beat out of his chest as he stood there after rapping on the dark wooden door, waiting for you to answer.

Thankfully, you got the door pretty rapidly. When it finally swung open, there were a few seconds where Din stood unmoving, staring at you with his mouth agape in disbelief that you were finally back together. It was an expression that was mirrored on your face.

Then, he finally broke free of his trance and stepped forward to envelop you in a tight hug. Din could barely believe that you were in his arms again. He resented the fact that it had taken so long for you to be reunited. All the days of pain faded away, however, as Din gathered you close to him. He struggled to find words to express his emotions.

Fortunately, you spoke first.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered into Din’s shoulder, where you had tucked your head into the crook of his neck. He smiled as he felt your voice reverberating there, a reminder that this was real. 

“I’m here now, Sunflower,” Din replied, his deep voice muffled into your hair, “I’m so sorry it took me so long.”

At that, you pulled away. Din saw how much love was there in your eyes that it floored him all over again. He wasn’t sure how he ever found someone to love him so much. All he knew was that your presence in his life had made him painfully aware of the fact that he had been missing something for so long. 

He felt as though he had been sleepwalking through life. Existing rather than living, in the weeks it had been since he last saw you. Now you were back together, that difference was acutely obvious to him. Din closed the distance and claimed your lips with his, attempting to convey what he could not yet find with his words. He roamed his hands across the warm expanse of your back, before grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him.

There was no doubt that things would have escalated further, were it not for the sudden presence of a certain child.

Din first heard Kuiil shouting at Grogu to come back and pulled away from you regretfully. Any feelings of disappointment were soon eclipsed by the relief he felt to once again be back with his son. 

It had not even been an entire day since Din had parted ways with Grogu, but he missed his boy so much that he was so relieved to be back with him. The irrational fear that Grogu would think he was abandoning him had been gnawing at him all day. Coupled with the frustration of being stuck behind at the studios, it was an unpleasant combination.

Thankfully, Grogu seemed to be as cheerful as ever. He appeared to be in good spirits, which was unsurprising after the day he had spent with his two favourite people. 

Din picked his son up and walked over to the sofa, placing him on his lap and doting on the little boy whom he had missed so much.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Although Din had every intention of quickly leaving the hotel again, after dumping his belongings and making sure that Grogu was settled, his plans soon fell by the wayside. Din had intended to take you out for a meal after the tour he had planned for you as part. Nothing fancy, but it was a Saturday night and he wanted to make the occasion feel special. 

However, after Din exited the bathroom to see you lounging on the bed, you looked so relaxed and almost sleepy in the suite, he was happy to instead spend the rest of the evening in your spacious suite.

After all, it had been such a draining week for the pair of you. You deserved a relaxing evening. So, Din’s dinner plans were soon forgotten. 

“I was planning to take you out for a nice dinner somewhere to spend some time just the two of us,” Din explained, “But I was thinking, since Kuiil is here and the food here in the hotel is so incredible… how about we just order room service?”

The way your eyes lit up proved to Din that it was a wise decision. The way you leapt off the bed and threw your arms around him and voiced your agreement only confirmed that. You seemed instantly relieved that Din was thinking along the same lines as you. Din wanted to show you again that there was never any pressure between the two of you to the expectations of what constitutes a ‘proper’ date. It was something that had defined your relationship ever since that evening when Din had tried to take you out to a fancy restaurant and instead, both of you had ended up in the noodle shop. Merely spending time with you was all Din needed to feel happy. Any time with you was incredibly precious to him.

After you and Din had finally made up your minds and ordered something from the extensive room service menu, Din went to check how Kuiil and Grogu were and inform them of his plans. He wanted to give you some space while you changed into some more comfortable clothes, but he was also eager to check on how Grogu was.

Din could not help but feel guilty for leaving Grogu for much of the day and how he would again tonight, even though he knew the boy was happy with the old man and Din would only be next door. Kuiil was as close to family as Grogu and Din had. A kindly old grandfather figure that they could always depend on for comfort and companionship. Din felt a lump in his throat as he hovered at the door, watching the two of them interact. 

Kuiil had Grogu sitting on his lap, facing him. The old man was regaling him with tales from his childhood in his distinctive gruff voice. Watching the pair of them gave Din a familiar sensation of how he felt whenever he saw you interact with Grogu. The warm, tight feeling in his chest at the achingly familiality of it. 

Family was a difficult subject for Din Djarin. 

There was the family Din had lost when he was young and had never truly got to know. There was the family he had found with Mandalorians and the golden-haired woman who was the leader of his tribe. Then, of course, there was the little boy whom he had been unable to resist when he had seen him bundled beneath that threadbare blanket in the dismal attic. 

Din had decided to rescue Grogu instinctively. Without much thought or planning, which was unlike a man who ordinarily prided himself on his meticulousness. 

The abruptness of such a life-altering decision meant that Din sometimes doubted whether he was the right person to take care of Grogu, or whether Grogu deserved someone better. Din frequently felt woefully ill-equipped to deal with a toddler, especially one with as many needs as Grogu.

His love for the little boy won out every time. 

Their connection was too great for Din to ever give up. He knew that he was not a perfect father, but he was determined to be the best one he possibly could be.

As he hovered in the doorway and took a brief moment to appreciate the fruits of his labour, and Kuiil’s labour, reflecting on how much progress Grogu had made, Din felt humbled by how precious fatherhood was.

When Grogu noticed his father standing there watching him, his big brown eyes lighting up when he laid eyes on the man who had saved him, Din’s chest swelled with pride. 

It was these precious moments that made Din realise that he could do it; he was a capable father to Grogu. 

He thought back to the first days onset, when he had arrived there terrified with his boy in tow. How Peli would scold him, telling him that he had an awful lot to learn about raising a young one after she caught Din not warming Grogu's baby food properly. The curly-haired woman had not been impressed. Din had been mortified. He hadn’t expected to see her just storm into his trailer like that. Those days seemed like distant memories now, but they were an important part of what had made Din the attentive father he eventually became.

Finally, Din moved from the doorway and joined Kuiil on the couch. He listened intently to the end of the story that the elderly man was telling his son in his characteristic breathy tone. Din had always admired the elderly man for the way he spoke to Grogu as though he were a real person, not just a cute baby. 

“Everything okay, Mr Djarin?” Kuiil asked and Din shook his head slightly at the old man’s insistence on referring to him by a title. 

“We’ve decided to stay here for dinner. I ordered something for Grogu and yourself and I thought we could eat together?” Din asked.

“Thank you, that sounds wonderful,” Kuiil smiled appreciatively. “I know this one has had a long day. I should imagine he'll soon go to sleep after he’s eaten and bathed.”

“Wonderful,” Din nodded.

Before the conversation could continue any further, the sound of the door opening tore Din’s attention away from Kuiil and his son. 

Din was mesmerised by the sight of you, his brown eyes instantly brightening at the sight of you as you stepped through the door. Even though you were wearing something far less formal than you would have been wearing had you ventured out for dinner together, you were no less beautiful to Din.

You shuffled in wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. Even with your body hidden by your comfortable clothes, Din was still on fire for you. Your outfit was not necessarily befitting such opulent surroundings. Then again, Din would not have picked this hotel out for himself. It was still a shock to his system to be surrounded by such an embarrassment of riches. 

Din was distracted from checking you out by a knock at the door. Dinner had arrived.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Contrary to Kuiil’s hypothesis, Grogu had not immediately been ready to go down to sleep after dinner. It required a lot of attention from three weary adults and plenty of playtime before the mischievous boy was finally content to sleep. 

With Grogu sound asleep and Kuiil eager to get some rest of his own, Din thought it was finally time for the two of you to retire to your quarters. It was, after all, a considerable amount of time since the last time the two of you had spent some quality time together. Now Din knew that Grogu was happy and settled, after receiving more than enough attention from the three adults whom he loved very much, he was content to leave his boy behind. Din knew that he would be there the second Grogu woke up the following morning.

Although it was tempting to take advantage of the spacious bed with its luxurious sheets, Din was determined to spend some quality time with you. He suggested watching something on the sizable flatscreen TV together while cuddling on the couch of course. Spending time with you and feeling your body on his was an intoxicating thought for Din. That closeness and companionship was something he had missed as much as the sex.

So, while you sprawled on the enormous sofa, Din hovered around by the minibar, fixing the pair of you something to drink. Din was content to leave you flicking through the various channels for something to watch. It reminded him of the time he had visited your flat when you cooked dinner for him and the two of you could not decide what to watch, despite the number of titles. This time, you were in control. He did not doubt that you would pick out something good. Or if you did not, he was certain that the pair of you would find other ways to amuse yourselves…

As he glanced up towards the screen, however, Din felt his stomach drop as you hovered over the streaming platform that The Mandalorian was on. He shook his head, hands suddenly trembling as he took the glass bottles in his hands. There was no way that he could watch the show with you. He hadn’t even seen it himself, too embarrassed to watch himself on screen.

“Looks like this hotel has a pretty nice collection of streaming services. Why don’t we watch my favourite show?” you said enthusiastically as you opened the app.

“What’s that?” Din replied, jokingly feigning ignorance. Hoping that you would not detect the terror that had suddenly settled in the pit of his stomach. 

“You know what my favourite show is!” you exclaimed, thoroughly offended.

“Oh that Star Trek one, right?” Din replied, ducking as you threw a cushion across the room at him. 

“Din!” you exclaimed.

“What, Sunflower?” Din replied, a cocky smirk on his face as he padded across the room and set your drinks down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

Although he may not get all the nerdy references, by confusing your favourite franchise with Star Trek, Din Djarin knew exactly what he had done. He felt lighter already. Laughing like that and knowing exactly how to push your buttons made Din feel as though everything was completely normal. The burden of the secret was temporarily lifted.

When he joked with you like this, it was so easy for Din to pretend that the jokes he was telling about the show were like any other people in a relationship. Teasing banter. It was a sense of normality. But the reality was that Din used such jokes to deflect from the truth. 

He was the man behind your favourite character from your favourite TV show. No amount of jokes could hide that fact.

As Din padded across the room to fetch some cushions and blankets to snuggle up on the spacious couch, the guilt felt as though it was eating him up inside. He struggled to contain his emotions. Din knew that he was doing a terrible thing by lying to you. He was well aware that you would probably be disappointed when you discovered the truth.

Yet, Din also knew that the connection the two of you had was genuine. It had nothing to do with the character he portrayed, despite the way he had first encountered you. After that day at the convention, Din knew that he would have fallen for you regardless. Your brain and wits had stood out to him at the museum tour. Not to mention the way you had bonded with Grogu. 

Anyone who was going to capture Din Djarin’s heart was going to have to realise that he and Grogu were a package deal. You had done that effortlessly.

When he finally sat next to you on the couch, threw a blanket over you and drew you into his side, all of that anguish was forgotten. Din felt your warmth all around him, the safety and security he drew from your touch whenever he was close to you. It was enough to make him forget the secret he was hiding from you. 

With your head on his chest and your legs kicked up on the sofa as you cuddled up together and a terrible movie starting to play on Netflix, it was effortless to forget everything else beyond the here and now. 

It was easy for Din to pretend that everything about how the two of you had met was normal. That there was no devastating secret lingering over you. That it was love and fate, rather than a combination of his job and your love for the show he starred in, which had initially caused your paths to cross. 

Din wished that time would freeze and he would always be as happy as he was together with you in that suite. Curled up with his Sunflower, as you watched a terrible movie together. 

Yet Din Djarin was a pragmatic man. Perhaps because of everything he had been through in his life. He realised, with a sickening, sinking feeling spreading in his stomach, that this happiness was fleeting…

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

That sinking feeling was a distant memory the following day, however. Din was strolling hand in hand with you through Hyde Park in London. Grogu was toddling alongside you, on a toddler lead. It was a beautiful, sunny day. You were both enjoying each other’s company, the anguish that the pair of you had felt for most of the weekend at being separated beyond circumstances that were out of your control was long forgotten. The quality time with each other was more than making up for lost opportunities. Din knew that it had been a more limited weekend than he had hoped, but he was still glad to spend time with you.

It was a warm, sunny day in the park. Unseasonably beautiful for mid-September. It was probably one of the last sunny days before the leaves would turn brown and copper and a colder breeze would be present in the air. So, naturally, most of the population had seemingly had the same idea as the one suggested to Din by you that morning, as you ate breakfast in the suite: to visit Hyde Park. 

Despite the crowds, it was a spacious park, with plenty of room for all of you. Kuiil had been left at a cafe near the entrance, insisting that he was too old to join the rest of you, despite Din’s insistence that he would be more than welcome to join. Still, Din did not push him too hard. The kindly old soul had more than earned his pay this weekend. 

Din squeezed your hand in his, enjoying the warm, comforting reminder of your presence as he strolled along at your side. He kept stealing glances at you, making sure that you were enjoying yourself.

Your eyes were covered by your sunglasses, but the small smile you wore near-permanently on your face proved to him that you were having as much fun as he hoped you were. 

Din had been watching you extra closely this weekend. He always did, but he wanted to make sure that the time spent apart had not affected you. He knew how upset you had been, he was anxious to ensure that he had made up for the upsetting start to your weekend. Din found that his eyes were drawn to you. He could not get enough of looking at you. There was something palpably electric about the way the two of you would steal glances at the other. 

The three of you stopped for an ice cream from a van sitting on benches as you licked the refreshing sweet treats. Grogu, naturally, ended up with far more ice cream around his mouth than actually in it. The contented coos of the little boy proved that he was enjoying himself, at the very least. Even though he had also spilt ice cream over his clothes. 

The only part of him that was stain-free was his green bucket hat. The brown shirt with green shorts that he had selected for himself had fallen victim to his ice cream exploits. Green and brown was his favourite colour combination and Din had enjoyed the way you had gushed at the sight of him that morning. 

After finishing your ice creams, you suggested that the three of you take a walk towards the water’s edge of the lake which was one of the main features of the park. At first, Din’s eyes were drawn towards the swans and ducks that were splashing around in the water there, as well as the people participating in various watersports and making their way across the calm, blue water’s surface on boats. He could have watched them all day, but his attention was taken away from them by the sound of your voice calling out to him.

“Din! Look!” you exclaimed enthusiastically, “There are boats we can hire!” you gasped as you turned to face him and pointed towards a boathouse with a few small rowboats tied up on the jetty in its vicinity which protruded into the water. “Can we hire one, please?”

Din released a sigh that was usually reserved for Grogu, an exasperated tired noise that ordinarily came out when his toddler was troubling him. But the childlike wonderment in your voice and face was too endearing for him to refuse. When you looked at him like that, Din knew he would have done anything for you. 

The prospect of hiring a rowboat was something that Din would never have done on his own. With you, hiring a boat at the park suddenly seemed like an idea that he could at least entertain the prospect of. Din knew this was probably going to end in tears somehow, but he couldn’t resist indulging you and Grogu. Not when the pair of you looked at him with wide, expectant eyes. Waiting for him to give permission.

“Fine,” Din sighed, leaning his weight onto one leg and folding his arms in a way that was so characteristic of him.

It was a careless mannerism, one that was so distinctively Din Djarin. It was also unmistakably Mando. A gesture he often employed on the show, was to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies with just a lean and a sigh. 

Din felt his blood run cold as he noticed the way that you stared at him for a beat longer than was usual. There was a terrible few seconds of silence where he was terrified that a glimmer of recognition had flickered in your eyes.

Fortunately, you soon snapped out of it. Shaking your head you took Grogu’s hand and led him towards the boathouse so you could figure out how to hire the boats. 

When you turned your back, Din shut his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Without even realising it, he had slipped into one of his mannerisms that he had been so desperate to hide from you. The way he had stood and sighed was something that Mando would do. And he was certain that you had connected those dots. 

Fortunately, you had hurried off before he had to lie to you, again. With his breathing back under control, Din paced over to the boathouse to catch up. You and Grogu were already at the desk, selecting the boat that you wished to hire. 

After exchanging funds and a brief safety talk, with matching yellow life jackets to boot, the three of you were all set for your adventure in a rowboat. Din knew as he climbed into the boat that this was probably going to be a bad idea. Despite his reservations and hesitation and the grumpy dad facade that he was putting on, he was secretly intrigued by what this was going to entail. 

“Have you ever done this before, Din?” you asked, as though you could sense his trepidation. 

“No,” Din huffed, “Never.”

Din watched you shake your head at him with a smile on your face. He was confused by your apparent amusement, wondering what was so funny. Before you could continue teasing him, Din handed Grogu – who was wearing an adorable little yellow life jacket of his own – to you, and ungracefully clambered aboard the wobbly boat behind you.

As Din took a seat on shaky legs, you seemed intent to continue teasing him:

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, I’m sure you’ll be great!” you said cheerfully.

“You’re not rowing with me?” Din said, aghast. It had been your idea to hire this damn boat, after all.

“Oh, there’s only one set of oars. I think you can take the reins here, honey,” you smiled.

Then you proceeded to thoroughly ignore Din’s existence and his predicament, pointing out a tree in the distance to Grogu who was babbling contentedly on your lap.

Din shook his head with a huff and grabbed the ends of the wooden oars. He began to move them with trepidation. The weight was not an issue, especially not for someone with as hulking muscles as Din. But it was difficult to find the knack for the movements. He was uncoordinated at first, the wooden boat wobbling around as Din found his rhythm. 

Din murmured a string of apologies but once he eventually got into the groove, the little boat hurtled away into the middle of the lake. Happy with the position, Din paused his movements and the boat came to a stop. With the sounds of the water sloshing as it hit the sides of the boat, a chorus of birds tweeting and Grogu’s giggles floating into the sweet, warm air… Din wondered if it was possible to feel any more content than he did at that moment. He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment, appreciating the sounds as the sun beat down on his face. 

“I wouldn’t mind having a turn rowing,” you said eventually, breaking Din out of the tranquil state he had fallen into.

“Okay,” Din agreed. 

What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. 

First, Din watched as you placed Grogu onto the seat next to you. Second, Din stood up to allow the two of you to swap places on the two benches that were facing each other on the rowboat. Thirdly, he became acutely aware of how the motion of him taking a step towards you caused the little boat to rock as you stood up and your forces acted upon the tiny vessel. 

The sum of your forces sent you hurtling over the edge with a yelp. 

The splash which was produced when your body hit the water sent droplets of the lake all over Din and Grogu, who watched the entire thing with a scared look on their faces.

For a few, terrible seconds it seemed as though the entire world had stopped spinning on its axis as Din waited for you to reemerge from the lake. 

Once he knew that you were okay, he felt certain he was about to get the biggest scolding of his life. He leaned over the edge of the boat, calling your name. 

When you finally reemerged, hair wet and sticking to your face, Din breathed a sigh of relief. Principally, because you had survived your unplanned entrance to the water unscathed but mostly because you did not look like you wanted to murder him. A fact he was extremely grateful for. Instead of fire and fury, you were giggling breathlessly at the sensation. 

Your airy laughs were the perfect accompaniment to the rippling waters of the lake.

“I hate you, Din Djarin!” you yelled between giggles.

It was a joke, there was no malice whatsoever behind those three words. Still, Din couldn’t help but wince slightly as you said such a thing to him. There were three words he never wanted to hear you say again. 

Considering how well you were taking your impromptu dunking, Din thought he had escaped your wrath. He should have known that you would never allow him to get away with the predicament you found yourself in that easily. 

Din leaned over the side of the boat to offer his hand out to you. He knew he would have no trouble pulling you back into the boat. You gladly took his hand and Din began pulling you inside the boat.

Except, Din’s helpful gesture was not met entirely with receptiveness from you. 

It was turn for Din to let out a yelp of his own, this time as you placed all your weight on him and tugged him into the water. 

It all happened so quickly that Din struggled to process what had just happened. For a second, everything was dark and murky. And cold. So cold. 

Eventually, Din resurfaced, dramatically spitting a mouthful of water into the air and throwing daggers at you. There was darkness in those brown eyes, perhaps you would regret the day you ever pushed a Mandalorian into the water. 

Din would deal with you later.

His first concern was for Grogu, who had been left in the boat all by himself. Din wanted to make sure that his son was okay. 

Din discovered, as he pushed himself up to peer over the side that the water was incredibly shallow. He could easily touch the bottom. He felt instantly relieved once he peered over the edge of the boat and locked eyes with his son. 

Except, rather than seeing Grogu’s expressive brown eyes full of concern towards his father’s predicament, there was a rather different expression across Grogu’s face. Din instead rolled his eyes as his son sat there, giggling at the scene unfolding in front of him and clapping his chubby hands together in glee. Din rolled his eyes and turned to face you, pushing his soaked brown hair up out of his eyes and onto his forehead.

Din stood there in the water, shaking his head and laughing at you in disbelief. Here he was, this man who was usually so hesitant to push himself even slightly out of his comfort zone, in the middle of a lake after an impromptu rowboat adventure.

Din looked at you, mesmerised by the way your face was bathed in the warm glow of a sunny afternoon in the park. Your eyes were shining a different colour than usual. Din was transfixed by the sight of you, the glow that seemed to surround you. As though you were an angel, brought to life. Your shirt was wet and clinging to your body, accentuating your figure which Din loved so much.

Before he was conscious of what he was doing, he had closed the distance between you. His hands were buried in your wet hair, it felt just as he had imagined it would, all silken and wet. His lips caressed yours in a slow, gentle kiss. Something about the way the water had caused your t-shirt to get so wet that it was clinging to your body had awakened something in Din. He was kissing you here in public, without a care for any onlookers.

“Everything okay here?” an unfamiliar voice behind Din caused him to snap out of the embrace in an instant.

Din cleared his throat and turned to face the mystery intruder. It was a lifeguard in a rubber dinghy, who had seen two people enter the water and been dispatched to make sure everything was okay. The man was probably close to retirement age and looked thoroughly unimpressed by Din’s antics, causing his skin to flush in embarrassment. 

“Oh… uh, yes. Thank you,” Din stammered. Sorry, we were trying to switch places in the boat and then, this happened,” Din added with a nervous laugh.

“Well, there’s a kid in there you might want to return to,” the man in the boat observed as he nodded towards Grogu who still sat there with a grin on his face.

The blush that crept across Din’s face was unmistakable as the man in the motorised dinghy made his exit, the engine gradually becoming more and more distant. He could hardly look at you as he helped you back onto the boat, lifting you and pushing you back on there, careful not to disturb Grogu. When you eventually made it back onto the boat, you unceremoniously flopped down on the deck like a fish.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The rest of the afternoon was spent lying on the bank next to the lake on fluffy towels. Thankfully, the boathouse had provided them to help dry you out from the soaking you had received. Din had resisted all calls on your part for him to take his shirt off so he would dry quicker. He knew it was just a cheap plea on your part to get to ogle him. He was too self-conscious to contemplate such an act. Despite the ease with which he had stepped out of his comfort zone by agreeing to a spontaneous boat excursion before, his typical shyness had returned. 

Yet, as the sun fell lower in the sky and afternoon turned to early evening, Din decided that it was probably time to begin heading home. He knew a long filming day stretched out ahead of him tomorrow. A day that he knew was going to begin early, just after dawn had broken. Likewise, he knew that you would have to work early. And your job was far more draining and demanding than his.

The three of you had spent much of the afternoon in the same position. You cuddled up on Din’s warm chest as his hands rested around your waist, while Grogu leaned into his shoulder as the little child napped, exhausted from all the excitement. Din hated to move from this position. He would have been quite content to stay here forever. 

“We should probably think about heading home soon,” Din whispered into your hair, nuzzling into the soft strands which were still slightly damp after your dip in the lake.

You nodded in agreement. Din carefully picked Grogu up and gathered him to his chest, grunting slightly as he stood up. Din noticed that you could barely meet his gaze as he offered you his hand and hauled you to your feet.

The three of you set off for the cafe where Kuiil had spent much of the day, Din once again laced his fingers through yours. 

“Would you like to get a ride back with us or would you prefer to make your way home?” Din eventually asked as you approached the gates to leave the park.

Din had noticed the way you had become gradually more withdrawn and quiet. He wasn’t sure what had caused it, but he sensed that the tension in you was probably because you wanted to leave for home. It was a Sunday afternoon, turning into an evening after all. Din knew that you had work the following morning. But then Din noticed how your bottom lip was trembling as you looked at him. He knew that your idea of a peaceful, relaxing weekend had been ruined by his job. His heart ached for the disappointment which surely still lingered. 

“Din, I don’t want to make you feel guilty. I hate to sound so clingy… but I feel like I hardly spent time with you this weekend. I thought I would see so much more of you and it’s been great to see you today… but we’ve been with Grogu pretty much the entire time and I,” you sighed, looking away from him as you attempted to compose yourself. “I miss you, Din. 

“Oh, Sunflower, I understand. Don’t worry. I think this little one is tired so he probably wants to head home but, if you want, you can come back to the cottage,” Din offered.

When he saw the way your eyes lit up, he knew he had made the right decision. 

“Perhaps we can go for a walk there and maybe have dinner together before you head home?” Din suggested.

He noticed the way that your shoulders immediately lifted. The thought of going back to work the following day without having seen as much of him as you were hoping seemed to be upsetting you deeply, Din could tell. So anything he could do to ease that pain made him instantly feel better. Din never wanted to see you upset.

“I’d love that, Din,” you smiled at him. 

Your smile was one of the features that Din loved the most. Especially when you gave him one that made your eyes crinkle. Knowing that you were feeling better soothed Din’s shaky nerves. He thanked his lucky stars that the pair of you would not end this weekend with one of you feeling upset.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The Nevarro Arms was the most defining feature of the tiny village of Nevarro itself, aside from the huge studios, The Volume, that stood right next to it. It was where most residents of Nevarro spent their evenings, drinking and chatting with each other. 

Although they were a staple of the British countryside, pubs seemed small, intimate and terrifying to Din. 

Despite how much time he had spent in the UK and how much he was enjoying his time here, this was not the country of his birth. There were certain cultural oddities that he could not get used to, no matter how hard he tried. Pub culture was evidently one of them.

Fortunately, you were slightly more of a local than Din. So, you insisted, when you passed it at the village cross on your way to walk the path around the hill where you had infamously been caught in the rainstorm a few weeks back, that he had to at least have a pint in his local. 

“You haven’t even been to a pub since you got here?” you asked, astounded, as the two of you walked hand in hand through the tiny village of Nevarro. 

Except for The Nevarro Arms and a couple of small shops which sold basic groceries, there was nothing else really of note here. Besides The Volume, of course. 

“No,” Din replied with a smirk. He found it adorable how worked up you seemed to be getting over something as simple as never having visited a pub.

“Din! That’s ridiculous!” you said, exasperated.

“Sorry,” he shrugged, “Just didn’t appeal to me.”

“Well, we’re changing that today,” you smiled at him, “On the way back from our walk, you’ll have a pint, and you'll enjoy it!

Din was relieved to see how much you had brightened up since he had invited you here, you had been visibly upset at the prospect of leaving him. He still felt awful about the whole thing, about his work keeping him from you, but he was grateful for how patient and understanding you were with him. 

Din was transfixed by the sight of the sun setting as the two of you strolled around a dirt path, bugs buzzing as the sun set, the two of you hand in hand. You started swinging your joined hands playfully. Din giggled at the sight. He loved the zest for life that you possessed. That something as simple as just taking a stroll at sunset with him seemed to perk your spirits up and make you so playful. 

He would need every bit of those positive emotions to carry him through his first time stepping foot in his local. 

Din felt his stomach churning with nerves as the two of you entered The Nevarro Arms. It was an old building with a slightly sloped doorway, indicating its age. 

Din immediately felt like an outsider, an alien.

Part of what had prevented him from ever visiting the quaint old building was a fear that there would be a barrage of questions from the owner of the pub.

Din was nervous that they would suss him out somehow. He suspected that the pub did not get many foreigners in it. Once they realised how close Din lived to The Volume, that would be it. They would know he was The Mandalorian.

Although it was an irrational fear, Din looked and sounded much different than the character he portrayed, the terror at the prospect of being discovered never really left him. He was constantly checking himself, trying to speak differently and disguise the gait of his walk. He had found that it was surprisingly easy to blend in, given how people were never really going to imagine what Mando looked like without the suit of armour.

Still, as he stepped into his local pub for the first time, his clammy hand clasped in yours, Din was a bundle of nerves. It was amusing that he could fight people off physically like it was no more physically demanding than opening a jar of pickles. When it came to people… Din felt out of his depth.

Fortunately, it transpired that his fears were misplaced, for the pub landlord – not owner, you had corrected Din on the proper terminology – was just as much of an outsider as Din was. 

Greef Karga was not from this part of the world either, like Din he had once been employed at the studios here. An actor from the US, after concluding his job here, had just never left. He explained how he had fallen in love with the environment here and bought a cottage close by.

When the former landlord of The Nevarro Arms had sold up, Greef had decided to step in and buy the pub to save it from closure. It was an icon of the surrounding area that desperately needed saving. Greef had heeded the call.

Upon seeing how relaxed and friendly Greef was, Din felt instantly relieved. The image he had feared of a nosy old lady with grey hair, mottled skin and too much time on her hands, who wanted to know everything about Din’s life as well as yours had been his biggest fear. With Greef, he needn’t have worried.

The only thing that did worry him, though, was how extensively Greef had talked about the studios here. 

Now there was no way to avoid it. Surely you were going to bring it up. 

When Greef finally got distracted by some other customers, Din followed you through the pub to find a table. He was appreciating the low beams of the pub, the unmistakable smoky feeling produced by the real wooden fire. He was finally beginning to feel calm and relaxed. 

Until he saw it. 

His heart dropped at the sight of it.

You were walking directly towards a huge display of Star Wars memorabilia. Various posters and autographs were framed, and hanging proudly on the walls. There was no way around it. No way you weren't going to stop and bring it up.

Everything Greef had just told you would have been a perfect segue for Din to come clean, to tell you the truth, that it was no coincidence that he lived in Nevarro, given its proximity to The Volume. That he was The Mandalorian. 

When you inevitably stopped in front of the impressive display of memorabilia at The Nevarro Arms, it would provide a perfect conversation starter. He could just slip it in carefully. There would be no more paranoia that you would find the terrible secret he had been keeping from you. He would not have to hide such an enormous part of his life from you any longer. He could tell you all about how much being a Mandalorian meant to him. He could be honest with you about what kept him from you on long shooting days.

Once again, Din took the coward’s way out.

Right before you reached the display of memorabilia, Din called your name.

You turned away from it abruptly, spinning around to face him. 

“I thought we could sit here, by the fire?” Din said as he gestured towards a cosy table tucked away in the corner. 

“Sure,” you nodded and moved to join him.

Din breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down opposite you. Anxious that the conversation would not circle back to The Volume, or anything about the memorabilia on display, Din asked you a question that he knew would serve a dual purpose; that would keep you distracted and talking, while also pulling your mind far away from Star Wars. 

“What’s the history behind Sunday Roasts?” Din asked, inquisitively. “I mean, I saw a sign for them outside here ‘Try our famous Sunday Roast!’ but I’ve never heard of one before.”

At once, you pivoted from someone Din was on a date with into your full historian mode. You launched yourself into an enthusiastic lecture, telling him all about Sunday roasts.

“So, British food has a bad rep around the world and that’s pretty fair. Some of this island’s cuisine is truly terrible. But I think the history of the roast is quite interesting and amusing,” you started, eyes twinkling with delight at finally getting to share your knowledge. “A lot of countries put pride and time into their cooking, but I think British people have always been a little more lazy than that. We think the Sunday Roast or Roast Dinner as we know it first started in the Middle Ages. After a busy week of working in the fields, the peasants would just shove a joint of meat into a roasting tin and leave it to cook over the fire while they went to church. So when they returned, I’m not sure what was tougher, the boots they wore to work in the fields all week or the meat!” you giggled.

“Yeah, I wonder,” Din laughed, “Interesting history, though. Never heard anything about it before. Thanks for the lecture,” Din added with a wink.

“Oh, there I go again,” You said timidly, biting your lip in embarrassment, “Off on another one of my lectures. You can take the girl out of the museum but you can’t take the museum out of the girl.”

“No, Sunflower,” Din whispered, smiling as he propped his elbow on the table, resting his hand on his chin, “I love it when you go off on your little tangents about things. Your passion and enthusiasm… it’s infectious. You’re also incredibly cute when you do it.”

“Din…” you scoffed. 

Din smiled at your bashfulness. He loved how much more open you seemed to be to receiving compliments from him. You had been so shy at first and now you seemed to be getting increasingly comfortable with him admiring you and appreciating your presence.

“I mean it, Sunflower,” Din nodded, as he laced his fingers with yours.

Here, in this tiny, cosy pub, as the sun set and the fire crackled in the corner, Din thought you looked perfect. Your beauty was on full display to him, both inside and outside. The twinkle in your eye that was evident after the compliments he had paid you only added to your gorgeousness.

Din knew then that he had made the right decision. How could he ever let you go? 

“Thank you,” you said with a wink, “Let me go and get us another round, do you want your usual?”

“A what?” Din added in confusion. He knew he understood the words you were saying, but some of them seemed so alien in this context. 

“In the UK, it's common to buy a round of drinks rather than everyone going up to the bar individually. Saves time and as long as everyone sticks to the same drinks, it pretty much works out at the same cost. And your usual is just what you had before, so in your case a pint of the cider Greef recommended?”

“Oh,” Din nodded, fascinated as he was introduced to this new culture he knew nothing about. “I'll have another pint of cider but let me pay, baby,” Din insisted, placing his hand out to try and stop you.

“No, Din. I insist. I want to buy a pint,” you smiled as you walked away from his outstretched hand.

Din had no real concept of how long the process of ordering a pint should take. But as the minutes ticked by, he struggled to remain rational about what was taking you so long at the bar. After a few minutes, he became concerned about whether something had happened to you. 

It wasn’t like The Nevarro Arms was the busiest pub in the universe, given the tiny village that it served. So, despite his reservations and fear that he was being overbearing, Din moved from the table and went to the bar. 

Thankfully, he spotted you straight away and some of the tension that had been building inside of him was somewhat relieved when he caught sight of you standing at the bar.

However, his heart instantly sank when he saw who you were talking to. A familiar figure, who Din instantly recognised. 

It was Migs Mayfeld, a security guard from The Volume. 

Din suspected that Mayfeld was already slightly inebriated. Din locked eyes with the bald man, but Migs broke contact and resumed chatting with you. 

He tried to quell his panic by remembering that Migs would have no idea who he was. After all, the only way that he would have known that Din Djarin was The Mandalorian was if he was standing there with a big suit of armour on.

But Din was not wearing armour. He was wearing jeans and a sweater. 

You hadn't spotted him yet, your back turned as you continued chatting away to Mayfeld. Din suddenly felt guilty and awkward about his paranoia. He turned to leave, seeing that you had only been chatting to Greef and Migs and there were no more sinister reasons for how long you had taken. At that moment, you must have spotted him because from across the bar, he heard you call his name.

Din turned to face you and heard you say:

“Oh Migs, this is… uh, my boyfriend, Din.”

Din froze. There was no option now, he had to go and greet the man who had accompanied him to set so many times and checked him in at the little security hut at the entrance to The Volume. Din was silently praying that the armour hid enough of his build and voice so that Mayfeld did not guess who he was.

“Pleasure to meet you. Mayf– Migs, was it?” Din asked, his heart skipping a beat as he almost said the man’s surname. The nickname that everyone at work used for him. Luckily, Din corrected himself just in time.

Din noticed the way Mayfeld regarded him as he moved in to shake his hand, hoping that the flicker of recognition he thought he saw was something else. 

“Nice to meet you Din, you got a wonderful girl here, I must say,” Mayfeld smiled.

The way Mayfeld turned to smile at you unsettled something in Din. He felt his blood turning hot. Luckily, you were on hand to diffuse the situation.

“Well, nice to speak to you Migs,” you nodded in the bald man’s direction, “And Greef,” you smiled at the man pulling pints behind the bar. “We’ll go sit by the fire and enjoy our pints. It's Din’s first time in a pub and he’s pretty excited to be here,” you smiled.

Din watched speechless as you walked towards him and grabbed his arm. 

“You okay?” you asked, linking your arm through his as you led him back to the table.

Din nodded, although he wasn’t entirely sure that was the truth, because of how you had referred to your relationship with him to Mayfeld. The fact that you had just referred to him as your boyfriend was running through his brain on an endless loop.

The pride, the happiness that he saw in your eyes when you said that word. It was something that the two of you had not officially discussed, but it felt so right. It would be wrong to refer to you in any other way. 

After he had met you, there was no question for Din of there being anyone else. It was always you, only you. 

Now, due to his cowardice, he felt immense guilt. That title, your relationship becoming something official was exactly what Din wanted more than anything else in the world. There were no doubts in his mind that you were the one for him. 

You had brought him out of his shell, including earlier in the day on the boats in the park. It was something he never would have considered on his own but with you, it just felt so right and Grogu had the best time. Your relationship with Din’s son was just as special as the relationship you had with Din, it was plain to see how much joy you had brought to the special little boy’s life.

Rather than feel the sheer joy he should have felt at your decision to bestow such a beautiful title on him, Din suddenly felt heavy and burdened by it. As you slid back into the cosy table to enjoy the freshly pulled pints of cider, there was one emotion Din was plagued with above all. 

Guilt.

Din knew he should never have allowed to get it to this point, such a serious step, without saying something first, telling you the truth about who he was. The guilt threatened to engulf him, it was eating him up inside. Din’s heart broke when you took his inner turmoil as a sign that he was not happy with the way you had just referred to him.

“I hope you uhh… you didn’t mind me saying that. I mean calling you my boyfriend. I know we didn’t talk about it or anything but uh…. I don’t think Mayfeld was flirting really but I just wanted him to know I was seeing someone and it’s serious,” you said, anxiously looking up at Din over your glass as you took your first sip from your pint.

Din felt awful about the anxiety that he saw there, that you were so worried you had been upset when you had done nothing of the sort. Now that he looked at you before him and thought of you as his girlfriend, it caused a sensation in Din’s chest that was quite unlike anything he had experienced before. Somewhere between pride, security and a dash of possessiveness – knowing that you were his. No one else’s. He moved to reassure you, he could not leave you thinking that it was something he would not have chosen for himself. Din placed his arms on the table and took both of your hands in his, gazing at you adoringly.

“I do not mind for a single second, Sunflower,” Din beamed at you, “We didn’t talk about it, that’s true, but to me, it feels right. I am honoured to hold your heart.”

Din brought his lips to your hands, marvelling at how soft your skin was as he placed a firm kiss on the back of your hand. The sigh of relief he heard you release was noticeable in the quiet of the pub, and Din was happy that he had managed to reassure you.

“And I am honoured that you want to,” you said, beaming at Din adoringly. “Despite how useless I am when it comes to rowing boats.”

Din laughed at that, the memory of your earlier exploits in the park was going to live with him for a long time and comfort him in his darkest days, Din was sure of that. 

“Well, you can’t have it all. It would be unfair on the rest of the world, otherwise,” Din said as he took a sip from his cider.

“Din…” you scoffed, unused to such a beautiful compliment.

To Din, you did look so beautiful. The firelight illuminated your features as the sky behind the window your table was against turned to a dark blue behind you. The wooden panels of the pub combined with the traditional decor and crackling fire all contributed to the scene before Din. He thought it was one of the most stunning sights he had ever seen. Here was a man who, thanks to his work, had travelled the world and dined in many of the most luxurious, exclusive establishments. It turned out the greatest one of them all was this small, quaint, pub in the English countryside. All thanks to you.

It was such a beautiful moment, Din was almost swept up in it completely. But then he remembered what he was hiding from you, and the sickening feeling in his stomach came back. He was so terrified of ruining this, the most incredible thing in his life aside from his son, that he was tongue-tied. It would have been a perfect opportunity to tell you. 

Instead, he sat there, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. Whether from the love he felt for you or the crackling fire, he wasn't entirely sure. Still, Din basked in the moment. Committing every single sight and sound to memory as he watched you. 

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The rest of the night was passed with pleasant chatter and laughter. Din could tell that you wanted to stay overnight, and he wanted you to. He didn’t want the laughter by the fire on this pleasant summer evening with the delicious pints of cider to end. But even if it would have been possible for you to blag a sick day, that was impossible for him, especially not with how filming was coming to a climax. It would never wash.

So, reluctantly, after one more pint, Din walked you outside and placed you into a waiting car that would take you home, thanks to the driver that the company supplied for him to use whenever he needed it. Din could tell that you felt hesitant to use such a luxury, but he had repeatedly assured you that it wasn’t coming out of his pocket. 

Even if he was, he could surely afford it. Din usually felt embarrassed by the riches that were afforded to him, but wherever he could use a perk of the job to spoil you, it all felt worthwhile to him. Din watched the car leave down the narrow country lane one way before he turned around and headed back towards the cottage, back to his son who was surely asleep, having been lulled off by the dulcet tones of Kuiil. Din was always happy to get back to Grogu, but he missed you already.

Din returned to Grogu and the cottage. He hummed a happy tune, feeling a buzz from the cider. Blissfully unaware that something as simple as a visit to his local pub could have changed everything. 

As he stood in the door, watching Grogu sleep peacefully, Din Djarin had no idea that by finally taking you to The Nevarro Arms, he had just set in motion a chain of events that would change the future for the two of you in the most dramatic way…

Next Chapter

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