#on break currently so i have time to draw whatever my little heart desires.... which is always more one piece

[eastbluecrewed]

outfit swaps bc i think about straw hat laundry day all the time

[carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich]

Diaboy Yandere Quiz Results

So if you haven't taken my "which one of the diabolik lovers boys would go yandere for you?" quiz, you might want to do that before reading the rest of this post. If you have taken the quiz and are curious as to what the other results are like but don't want to retake said quiz 14 times, then this post is for you! Below the cut are the yandere!diaboy x reader drabbles for every diaboy + Karl that I wrote for the quiz.

Quick warning: These drabbles feature dark content including themes of imprisonment, torture, blackmail and stalking.

Combined these results have a total word count of 3.4k :') If you enjoy them, let me know which one is your favourite!

Shuu

You’re crying again. You’re not being loud about it but from where you’re currently splayed half on top of him—the heat of you warming his bones in lieu of the fireplace he refuses to light—it would be impossible for him not to notice the faint trembling of your body and the growing wet patch on his shoulder. There isn’t any point in saying much when you’re like this, which is somewhat ironic when you’re the only person he’d even consider putting the effort in for. Instead he shifts slightly, moving his arm over you so you’re more securely held against him while the other slips out one of his earbuds and places it into your ear instead. He’s not stupid, he knew what dragging you to the other side of the world—far away from everything you’d ever known—would do to you, but if he’s honest with himself he’d do it again in a heartbeat. It was your own fault, in a way, for making him care, for making the fear when he saw the way Reiji looked at you sharp enough to cut through the numbness he’d lived with for so long. Yes, it was you who’d sought him out in the first place, so no matter how miserable you might be now, you only had yourself to blame.

Reiji

The tea in your cup is poisoned. You’re sure of it, even without the faint bitterness tainting the delicate aroma, you can tell from the look in Reiji’s eyes alone—you’ve seen it often enough. The question is what concoction he’s prepared for you this time; whether he’s decided he’d rather you be numb and pliant or feverish with want. Still, you do not break your composure, remaining the image of grace as you lift the cup to your mouth. The tight corset your captor has forced upon is not nearly as constricting as the way he watches you, his own cup left ignored on the table. Months ago you’d have scoffed at the idea of someone willing drinking poisoned tea, but now you are aware the consequences if you do not will be far worse than whatever toxins he’s prepared for you. He won’t kill you, you don’t think, not when the way he looks at you can only be described as obsessive. You used to think it came from his desire to mold you into his ideal of a perfect partner, but now you’re not so sure. Sometimes, when you catch him watching you while you’re supposed to be asleep, you wonder if just maybe he simply wants you. A pity for him then, that no matter how many restraints he binds you with or drugs he pours down your throat, you will ensure your heart remains forever out of his reach.

Ayato

Blood always tastes at its best when the person being drunk from enjoys it. It’s something Ayato figured out after the old bastard let them loose in the human world, the occasional sacrificial bride being ferried in to keep them from causing enough trouble to attract unwanted attention. But no blood has ever tasted as sweet as yours when you’re pinned down beneath him, whimpering in the ecstasy of having your lifeblood drained away and mixing with his. He draws away only briefly to take note of your expression, eyes screwed up with tears of pleasure brewing at the corners. You look amazing like this, even better than you had in the cute little cheerleading outfit you’d worn to school sports games, back before he’d had his first taste of you. You’d screamed the first time, your usual bright enthusiasm falling off your features as you’d realized what he was. And yet you’d still come to your practice the very next day, a brightly coloured band-aid on your neck to hide the marks. When he’d come back for a second bite, you’d only struggled a little—enough to keep things interesting, but not so much that you could fool him into thinking you were actually trying to get away. No, you want to be here, he’s certain of it, and he’s generous enough to keep you.

Kanato

You’re alone again today. Sitting perfectly still, empty bento box in your lap, eyes shut as you listen to a soft melodic tune through your headphones. You look lovely like this, the moonlight filtering through the window painting the planes of your face a silvery hue. It's only the fact you look so peaceful—almost like one of his wax dolls—that keeps Kanato from tearing your headphones away. He will, once he's had enough of watching you like this, and he knows from your previous encounters that the wide-eyed expression you’ll make is almost as good as the one you wear now. The still healing marks from his fangs peek out from the collar of your white school shirt and the corner of his lips twist. You’ve not told any of your schoolmates of any of your encounters, he’s certain of it from how closely he’s been watching you. If anything, you’ve isolated yourself even further than you already were, only briefly exchanging pleasantries in that barely there voice of yours he’s grown so fond of. The air stirs faintly, a gentle breeze through a cracked open window, and you open your eyes. The fear is immediate as you take in his face, close enough to yours that you should have been able to feel his breath—if he had any need to breathe. He does now, to take in the scent of your terror, and it is oh so very sweet.

Laito

Laito has broken so many mortal things, he’s long since lost count. He can’t even remember what all of them looked like, but he does remember the expressions on their faces in their final moments—fervent devotion, desperation and sometimes just pure madness. You, however, he’s had for months, and yet the light has yet to fade from your eyes despite his very best efforts. Sometimes you even look at him with pity—likely due to what you’ve put together of his history from the scraps of it scattered over the manor—though those days have grown less frequently since he made your move to his room a permanent affair. Now when you look at him, it’s mostly filled with a hatred that burns brighter than any emotion he’s ever had from his other lovers. It’s intoxicating, more so than even your blood. Laito’s not sure when exactly he stopped wanting anyone else to see it—or when he stopped wanting anything else for that matter. He thinks you feel the same way, that you’d like nothing more than to see him dead, enough that it keeps the spark inside of you burning bright. You’d confessed to believing in love once in the early days and he’d laughed at you for it. Even now the memory makes him scoff, for the love you spoke of that day could never possibly compare to this.

Subaru

You get the impression you’re being watched. It’s subtle at first, a small movement at the corner of your eye that vanishes as soon as you turn towards it. A faint prickle on the back of your neck every so often when you walk through the hallway. It doesn’t take long for things to escalate, until you can no longer shake the feeling of eyes on you almost everywhere you go. You think there’s something else going on too, the underclassman who you could have sworn had a crush on you now refuses to so much as look at you and he’d gone running like the devil himself was on his tail when you’d tried to approach him. Other people around you have started behaving weirdly too, a strange hush following you wherever you go, your fellow students going out of their way to avoid jostling you when you have move classrooms between lessons. There is one constant in all of this, and you’re starting to wonder if he might somehow be responsible for it. Subaru Sakamaki, despite the prestige of his father’s name, has the air of someone who’s had a difficult life. You’d decided to make an effort to be kind to him when you’d first noticed it, not necessarily going out of your way to hunt him down, but to grant him a little more patience and understanding than you might normally. He’s currently the only person who hasn’t started acting like you’ve contracted some horrible contagious disease, but you do catch him looking at you strangely sometimes. The moment he notices and immediately turns away are the few occasions you no longer feel watched. His expression in those moments is a bit like someone caught between wanting something but feeling conflicted over whether or not they should have it. And for some reason, the thought that he may eventually make up his mind fills you with nothing but dread.

Ruki

You’re being difficult again. It’s not that Ruki had believed you were past this stage—far from it in fact—but he had thought the punishment you’d received in your last session with him might have at least served as a temporary reminder to not push his limits again so soon. He knows the wounds have yet to properly heal from the faint trace of your blood that blossoms in the air whenever you move in a way that strains the skin of your back—and yet still you insist on running your mouth. Ruki regards you coldly for a moment. Back when he’d first met you, he might have mistaken the look on your face for defiance, but now he takes note of how brightly your eyes shine, the faint tremble of your lower lip. You’re lashing out because you’re afraid, like a cornered animal that hasn’t yet learnt not to bite the hand that feeds. He closes his book and places it to the side, not missing the way you try to hide your flinch as he stands up. There need to be consequences for this type of behaviour, there’s no point in putting this much effort into your training if not, but rather feeling annoyed, Ruki finds himself almost pleased at the prospect. For as much as your insolence grinds, there’s something about the way your tough façade breaks almost as soon as he gets started—and in the way you fall apart under his hands with the sting of antiseptic that follows. You cling to him sometimes, half delirious with pain, and it’s those moments he finds he savours the most.

Kou

Kou chuckles as you cling onto his arm, still unused to the heels he’d forced you into before you left the mansion. It’s honestly pretty cute, although not as cute as the way you keep glancing around anxiously, convinced that at any moment now his fans will appear around the corner and start baying for your blood. That same fear, however, is the only reason you’re here in the first place—his demand in return for not posting staged pictures of the two of you tangled together online. You’re actually doing pretty well all things considered, you even manage to flash him a wobbling smile when he tells you about the café he’s taking you to. Kou can’t quite decide what he likes most about about your little arrangement—that you’ve gotten good enough at acting that he can almost pretend you’re on a date with him because you want to be, or that the scent of your fear in the air tells him is doesn’t really matter because he has you right in the palm of his hand. 

Yuma

Yuma’s used to people being intimidated by him. If not for his stature, and it usually is, then the way he speaks is often enough to set those around him slightly on edge. Not you though. No, the first time you meet, you look him dead in the eye without a hint of any sort of fear in your face. It’s not a judging look either, more of an assessment, that you realize he is used to being one of the biggest people in the room but that will carry no weight with you. It feels more like a challenge than anything else, and he feels the tips of one of fangs peek out from where the corner of his lip curls into a smirk. You never show fear when you look at him in any of your subsequent meetings either, even when you really should—like now, when he’s keeping your hands secured above your head with only the sheer weight of him. You're not stupid enough to put up a real fight, not when you can already feel the strain on your bones from his grip, but you are stubborn. And the defiance in your face even when you’re pinned helplessly just makes your blood taste all the sweeter for it.

Azusa

It had been an accident, the first time you’d pushed him down the stairs. You’d been in a rush, running late to one of your classes, when you’d tripped over your own feet, the hand you threw out to steady yourself slamming into the back of someone you hadn’t realized was there. All you could do was watch with a look of horror as the figure lost their balance and fell right down the otherwise abandoned stairwell. Perhaps you should have registered there was something wrong then, when instead of crying or getting angry at you or having any sort of normal response to being shoved down a set of stairs, Azusa—as you’d later come to find out his name was—had simply sat up and stared up at you like you were some kind of god. The second time you’d pushed Azusa down the stairs was less of an accident. He hadn’t left you alone after the first unfortunate incident and no amount of apologizing or promises it wouldn’t happen again were enough to get rid of him. One day, he’d managed to corner you after the ring of the final bell, standing so close you could feel an eerie coldness emanating from his body, and you felt the final threads of your patience snap. In truth, you hadn’t registered how close you were to those wretched stairs—too focused on the primitive part of your brain that screamed to get away from the strange boy—and thus, the quick short shove you gave him was enough to send him tumbling a second time. You’d stood there, frozen, as he slowly sat up, a rivulet of blood trailing down his face from where he must have knocked his head on the way down. And yet the injury was not the most appalling part of the scene. No, that right was reserved for the look of pure adoration in his eyes, directed straight at you.

Carla

You’re too kind for your own good. It’s something Carla’s become painfully aware of over the months he’s known you. At first he’d believed you were simply frightened by him, acting on his wishes to avoid his wrath as so many others had done in the past. But he’s familiar with the scent of your fear now and it is not fear you feel when you check on him after hearing the Endzeit-induced coughs from his room or when you make dishes with cured ham for him after he let slip that he was fond of it. It is a weakness, he thinks, but one he could perhaps tolerate if simply reserved for him. It is not however, anyone who crosses your path is greeted with your good nature and it eats at Carla’s insides far more than the disease rotting his blood. He is the Founder King, he should be able to have what he wants. And he will have you, all of you, so that no one else ever will.

Shin

Shin knows you like him, at least, he’s nearly certain of it. Because despite the hell he’d put you through after you first met, you’d still ended up hanging around him. The once fear-filled look on face whenever you saw him slowly becoming resigned until, at some point, your gaze had started to turn heated. For Shin’s part, you’d only been a bit of idle amusement at first, someone to terrorize whenever the frustration of his and Carla’s situation got to be too much. Eventually, however, your interactions had gone from being a way to pass the time to something he looked forward to; a wolf anticipating a meal. It was the first time he’d noticed the look of want in your eyes that he’d started to feel the same. So then why? If you want him, why does he never quite feel like he has you? His initial conclusion had been that it was something to do with Carla, that you were trying to pull one over on him to cosy up to the Founder King. But no amount of stalking from you from the shadows or checking on your scent every time he saw you had revealed that anything was going on between the two of you. If anything, you actively avoid his brother—Shin’s only ever seen you in the same room together when he himself is present. Perhaps you’re still hung up on how your relationship started, some part of you yet to forgive him for all the things he did to you. Or maybe, you’re doing it on purpose. After all, you’ve seen enough of his wolf form to know that when something runs away, there’s always an instinctive drive to chase.

Kino

Kino makes it seem like a coincidence when he runs into you outside of the local games arcade. You have no need to know he’d seen your social media post featuring a photo of a popular new café, the one opposite the shop he’d lingered in, waiting to stage this particular encounter. He’s done it a couple of times now—pulling at the strings attached to you to arrange these chance meetings. A couple of months ago he could never have imagined putting this much effort into a single human, especially one who wasn’t the Vampire Lord’s chosen Eve, but now it's turned into a game of sorts—to what degree can he entangle you in this web before you start to notice. It’s going well so far, you think him a simple classmate who’s a regular in the area—you’ve even given him your ID for a couple of the games you have on your phone. Tonight’s looking to be a lot of fun too. In just a couple of minutes, the friend you’d been hanging out with will get a call from their mother who should have just received a selection of pictures showing her precious darling skipping the cram school she paid oh so much money for. The friend will likely get called home—a shame, Kino will say, with a smile on his lips, but there’s no reason he and you can’t still have some fun before the night is over.

Karlheinz

Under any other circumstances, the scene before you would have had you swooning. A meal not out of place in a Michelin star restaurant laid out beautifully before you on top of an intricately carved antique table with possibly the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on seated at the opposite end to you, swirling a glass full of a rich, red liquid. The view out of the floor to ceiling windows is spectacular, a sky full of stars and a view of the forest and various small towns far below. Except these are not other circumstances, and the man who sits, watching you carefully as you cut into your food is none other than the Vampire King himself—and you are quite certain that it’s not wine that sits in his cup. The view is no comfort either, not when you know you are looking out over the demon world, a place that you’re sure would be quite hostile to you if not for the protection of the man keeping you here. Not that you’d gotten any real chance to see it save for the view from the castle you hadn’t left once in the months since you’d arrived here. You tell if the complete lack of any sort of guard makes you feel better or worse, on one hand at least you’re not followed everywhere, but on the other hand, the fact Karlheinz is powerful enough to keep you here without them makes the odds of escape seem slim. 

[jesterthebestsir]

Hello dearest jester i have returned ! :3

Through stalking all your posts, i have found another element of your existence which i resonate with! I am currently in the exact same predicament with you with the age difference and everything haaa to me it seems we live very similar lives !

I hope you have the jolliest and loveliest of days!

Welcome home, Anon! (This post is gonna be long and you'd probably won't read too much of it lol)

TL;DR: Figure out WHY you like them. Did they do something for you? Did they show up at just the right time? Why do they mean so much to you? I've calmed down with my obsession for her over the last few weeks and I think that's because I sorta broke down why I'm in love with her (in no particular order):

She represents a better time:

I met her in 2019 and when I was 11-12 over Amino, at the time, I was seen as the golden standard; good grades, good attitude, paid attention in class, and quiet. I had everything together and more! Then 2020 hit and messed all that up, but I still had her. If the guilt of not doing my school work didn't keep me from talking to my friends then I'm sure I would've texted her from the moment I got up to the moment I went to sleep. She was a constant in a moment in my life where everything wasn't.

Now, I can't focus like I did back then. School (as I'm sure you've seen from my other posts) is a drag to me, I can barely go an hour without my mind heading off into space and miss whatever the teacher was saying. Whenever I go through something mildly stressful my first thought is, "I should text her :D!!". She is a big comfort for me and represents my golden years of ignorance, naievity, and a stagnant and monotonous, but desirable life.

First Crush:

This was my first proper crush; I had butterflies in the stomach, anxious but excited for her text (but I didn't want to text first because I didn't want to seem desperate), and would not stop talking about our conversations to my friends. Before all this, if someone asked if I had a crush I would point to the nearest person, but this was real. My heart was racing for someone! I couldn't get her out of my head and with my friend drawing shipart of us, all of my feelings felt so RIGHT. Not to mention that she did say,"I love you" (through roleplay). I felt like I was in a romcom with how I was acting.

Amount of time I spent with her:

All of it was through text, but typing takes time and that's time I could've spent anywhere else... don't you think I'm owed something? I felt somewhat entitled to her affection due to how much time I put into our relationship, I was staying up to 4am texting her, often falling asleep during our long roleplay sessions because I was so tired! All of the time I sank into you and I can't do that anymore because of a little (PROBLEMATIC and AWFUL, I KNOW THAT THIS IS BAD) age gap?

I thought I was mature for my age:

I was told I was mature and well-behaved for my age by many adults. So, if I'm so mature, then I can handle mature relationships, right? Age is just a number when your minds are so in sync! (FALSE!!!! I WASN'T MATURE, I WAS STUPID)

I thought she wasn't mature for her age + She's stagnant:

I'M NOT CALLING HER STUPID, I SWEAR

The way she talked to me back then and how she talks in her TikToks and writes now is roughly the same; she's still the silly, inexperienced, and slightly edgy girl I knew from back then. I've grown up and she stayed the same, so even if I'm not as mature as I seem, neither is she. It balances out, right? (WRONG!!!! I HAVEN'T TALKED TO HER IN YEARS + I DON'T KNOW HER LIKE THAT ANYMORE) Breaking down what made her so special to me, why I adore her, and realizing that I don't love her in the way I want to love her is what's helping me move on from her.

also posting most of my feeling on here helped

also getting a AWESOME hyperfixation

[theregoesmylurkerstatus]

SPOILERS AND ASSUMPTIONS FOR CAMPAIGN 1!

OKAY, let me start by categorising what spoilers I know as best I can, going (mostly) in chronological order AFAIK:

Clarota betrays them (VERY sad, when I first watched those first 10-ish episodes I was fully behind Keyleth’s ‘trust him’ train)

Vax loses a foot to lava and also his snake belt rip

Kima and Allura are the cool, trustworthy PCs, as is everyone’s favourite, Gilmore, a shopkeep with a black belt in karate

The dragonborn guy’s homeland gets dunked on and then later he dies offscreen

Percy’s sister is alive and betrays them but only kind of? I think? She was held captive by the Briarwoods for years and Percy thought she was dead, but she was blackmailed/brainwashed/tortured?

Vax gets cornered by the Briarwoods alone by accident (classic)

There’s a chick called Ripley who makes guns A Thing for the wider world

Something about a sun tree? It’s a creepy tree? They hallucinate their own corpses on it? Or something?

They probably kill one of the hottie vampires at the end of Percy’s arc, I think the male one? Because the lady vampire shows up later?

Percy dies in his arc and it’s the second res ritual they do, after Pike’s one pre-stream

“Take off the mask, darling.” I still don’t care about romance but I feel obligated to mention that I know that famous line

I also know the equally famous “I thought he’d never leave” bubble bath bit, ah Laura

There’s a CHROMA CONCLAVE attack right at the end of Percy’s arc, somewhere

Rashian is a dragon or something, everyone laughs at Liam for not knowing this. I know nothing else about who the Chroma conclave is (3-5 chromatic dragons??? One of each colour????) or what they want, except Vax levels up in the middle of fighting one and Keyleth yells at one

There are communication earrings. There is also a weird black powder man. Victor?

They actually have a permanent home/keep unlike the Mighty Nein?

Vex dies because Percy didn’t check for traps, this is the start of some deal of Vax’s with the Raven Queen which means he multiclasses into paladin?

Vax can fly, he can fly, he can fly!

Uhhhh there’s a couple cursed swords or something in there lol

Percy sells his soul briefly? Genius move Smart Guy lmao

Feywild??? Somehow????? They meet Artagan and make a deal with him for a doorway, and they spend an episode as cows somewhere in here?

Keyleth has Mom Trauma, I don’t know how much this will feature in the campaign

Vax and Vex’s dad suxxx or something, mother is dead

Scanlan hits on his surprise daughter and everyone screams

They have some kind of year long adventuring group break for some reason?

Keyleth makes a storm on an airship (???) and this is cool. Also she turns into a fire elemental a lot and this is also cool.

There’s a kraken fight? It goes really badly, like LEGENDARILY badly, and ngl I’m kind of looking forward to it

Scanlan #LOSESIT and has his legendary ‘what’s my mother’s name?’ rant, after which he leaves for an undetermined number of episodes and is replaced by Tary

This leads to Grog spelling C-A-T for some reason and this???? Makes people cry???????? Truly something you had to be there for

Pike tries to commission drawings of VM for Tary (who calls Vex “little elf girl” and braces for impact when Laura’s nostrils flare) and this goes Very Wrong in a funny way

Tary’s dad sucks

He writes a book

Some NPC reads said book in campaign 2, hence why I know about it

Grog has an arc to do with the other Goliaths who beat him up for defending Pike’s dad?

When Scanlan comes back he tries to sneak in, Vex chases him and he panics and casts modify memory on Vex, it fails several times, an angsty moment becomes comedic very fast

He is received with Mixed Emotions lmao

Keyleth turns into a goldfish and kills herself, this is both apparently extremely painful and extremely funny

Vax gets disintegrated and dies in a beholder fight (rip)

Gilmore is not a dragon but everyone was fully convinced he was. He also gets bodysnatched or something at some point to freak out VM, but they figure out very quickly it’s not him

Scanlan is Ioun’s chosen? Whatever that means, something to help fight Vecna I think

“It was an honour knowing you” sad! Sad! Sad line! Gilmore doesn’t understand, cheekily responds, and leaves!!!! Liam looks on the verge of tears!!!!!! SAD!!!!!

There are so many true love nat 20s. I don’t know what any of them are except that Pike has one and Ashley looks like she’s about to cry

They win the Vecna fight and Keyleth gets the HDYWDT, Scanlan wanted to save a Wish spell for Vax but couldn’t, so he stays dead

Everyone cries here but at least the rest of the party is okay

Keyleth is the last woman standing and everyone cries at this too

And then Grog uses the deck of many things, spawning two oneshots to clean up his mess

Also somewhere in here Vex steals a broom from a guest (lol)

Assumptions!!!!!

More tears than campaign 2 I think, since there are at least two resurrection rituals we see on screen that I know of

The fights might be more stressful since they’re higher level?

Scanlan is going to be the most sexual and lewd character because he is played by Sam

Vex is going to be the second most sexual and lewd character because she is played by Laura

Vax will still instigate most of the one-on-ones so Liam can have as many heavy conversations as his theatre kid’s heart desires

Keyleth will try and fail to make the group more moral

Pike will not try to be moral at all despite being four feet of blessed armour and adorable hair

I think other characters try to make Percy feel remorse for Murder Reasons, but I suspect he’s not going to feel that guilty (I will likely support him in murderous endeavours unless they are FAR more messed up than I currently believe)

From what I understand Grog is Loveable but not hugely layered or complex, and I know Travis was proud he didn’t cry this campaign. I suspect I may be surprised at the character depth Travis gives him, however.

Keyleth also thinks the gods are overrated and I AGREE

Percy is three feral and eldritch raccoons in a trench coat, held together only by sheer force of will and the fragile shell of a posh accent. No one notices because it’s a really cool accent.

There will be a lot more money/shopping/drinking elements than in campaign 2, since I know Vex is a haggler, Percy is a Lord, and Keyleth is a day-drinker? As are Grog and Scanlan

It will be funny for me to see Taliesin play a smart character and Travis a dumb one, though I know that the whiplash went the other way for most people lmao

Vox Machina will be less team-heavy than the Mighty Nein? I gather they’re more of an ‘individual hero’ makeup than an ‘everyone has support abilities’ makeup

It will be more fast-paced than campaign 2? It seems like a lot of the arcs lead directly into each other, with only the occasional shopping episode break

It feels like it might be less friendship heavy than the Mighty Nein? Like they seem more like ‘we’d die for each other’ pals who otherwise spend all their time trying to draw dicks on each other’s faces

They have a more clear “party leader” than the Mighty Nein, who might be Percy and/or Keyleth

I think most PCs and NPCs are more morally clear cut than in campaign 2, like most towns and people in positions of power are either “cool guy who can pitch in” or “get rid of this abomination immediately” territory

I think my favourite character will be Vex, Percy or Keyleth. I just feel it in my bones. 

I think I may also get an extreme soft spot for Grog and Pike, however

My main sources of surprise will be, I think, how things fit together? Like I have no idea WHY they’re in the Feywild, or most other places really, or what any villains’ motivations and backstories and personality traits are, and how they end up fighting any of them in any particular place for any particular reason. I don’t even really know characters’ abilities or literally anything done in any of the fights, aside from “they win/nearly die” and “Scanlan uses Wish and Bigby’s Hand against Vecna”

I assume most plot threads all lead into each other fairly solidly and that they don’t actually seek most of their stuff out?

This assumption will either be fairly right or hilariously wrong, but -- I assume that I already know almost everything important or shocking? I tried really hard to avoid it but being active in campaign 2 meant that over time I got exposed to more and more of campaign 1, and I genuinely believe that I have almost everything down, if not details or order. I don’t think I’ve missed any big moment or impactful arc

Let’s see if I’m right

[jj-babebank]

Room 107 // chapter I // JJ Maybank (smut)

I have started my first JJ story, which will consist of several chapters that I will constantly be updating. The story picks up where season 2 leaves us. TW: Contains mentions of drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex and violence. 

Chapter 1 can be found below.  Oh, and - please feel free to submit requests, I tend to write a lot ;) 

Enjoy xx

Chapter 1 - La Guardiana

Days had passed since the Pogues had last seen civilisation, maybe even weeks. The sun was hotter than ever, with close to no wind to mask the warmth. JJ was taking this particularly badly. 

“I’m so done with eating bananas, man,” he moaned, kicking a pebble as he trotted a little behind the rest of his friends, “Can’t we just stumble across an oasis or something and end up in, like, an actual city?”

As if on command, his friends stopped in their tracks, the girls awing and the guys smiling happily. 

“We just might, JJ,” said John B, looking at the city unfolding itself in front of them in the distance, “We just might.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m actually starving,” laughed Sarah, nudging John B’s arm, “Don’t tease!” “Hey, so am I,” he cooed, “First joint we find, we’re going in for food.” Kiara rolled her eyes, “As much as I would love to accept that offer, let me remind you that we have no money.” Sarah nodded, “Mhm, nothing at all.” “Nada,” John B looked at the two girls sternly, “And when has that ever stopped us exactly?” Kiara rolled her eyes once again, smirking at her friend, “Alright, I suppose a good meal would give me the energy I’d need to run a marathon after getting caught not paying.”

The group continued walking down a not too busy street, studying the buildings, looking for a restaurant, cafe, diner - anything, really. They hadn’t had a proper meal in God knows how long and they were famished. They couldn’t help but notice how all the buildings on the street were of the same height - no more than four storeys each, all painted in different colours. If they hadn’t known any better, they’d have thought that they had left the United States of America altogether, although one thing was certain - they were definitely not in the Outer Banks anymore. 

The street wasn’t crowded at all, there were hardly any cars or people lurking about. JJ concluded that this was probably an unpopular area of whichever city they were in. This would also explain the lack of supermarkets and restaurants. He really wanted to ask his friends to stop for a little break - his throat was so dry and his legs could barely hold him up anymore, but he knew better. The longer they walk, the faster they’ll find what they are looking for. Having no indicator of the time on them wasn’t helping either, hell, they could have been walking for 12 hours for all he knew, and with no result. 

“Maybe we should just ask someone,” Pope suggested, “Neither of us is a wanted criminal anymore, I’d say we have nothing to worry about.” John B smirked at his friend’s remark, but ultimately agreed to ask the first person they ran into where the nearest food joint was. Turns out, they were standing right in front of it. 

“La Cubanita Hotel and Restaurant” it spelled out in bold, red letters. The building was narrow and a light shade of blue, totally contrasting the obnoxiously coloured sign planted in front of it. Much like the rest of the buildings on the street, it had no more than four floors, each consisting of a row of Spanish windows with brightly coloured frames. The Pogues looked at each other with a hint of uncertainty before John B lead the way into the building. 

On the inside it looked like a typical diner - tiled floor, red and blue booths, a long bar accompanied by bar stools and, cheesily enough, a boombox. JJ guessed that the way to the hotel was through the back, but he didn’t put too much thought into it. The place seemed dead, with only one of the booths being busy. It was either an off-peak hour or this city was actually a ghost town. 

The group sat at one of the booths on the other side of where the other people were and JJ took a second to observe them. A group of bikers, all wearing stereotypical biker outfits from leather jackets down to bandanas. They were in their mid 50s and were all smoking indoors, drinking what looked like whiskeys, despite of the blazing sun still very much being out. JJ had to give it to them though, they did look pretty darn cool if he did say so himself, and those cigarettes looked eerily appetising to him at this given moment. Oh, what he’d give to have a sip of whatever they were having and a long, much needed drag of one of their cigarettes. He was so lost in his daydream, he barely realised Kiara poking him in the arm. 

“JJ,” she urged, “Waitress is here!” In this moment JJ turned his attention to the new subject in question, their waitress. She was standing at the foot of their booth, wearing her uniform, black and red, holding a pen and a notepad, chewing a piece of gum, waiting for his order. Could this place get any more stereotypical? JJ thought to himself. “So what’s it gonna be, handsome?” She said, not even bothering to look in his direction. “Uh…” JJ fumbled with the menu, “I’ll just have whatever they’re having.” He said, pointing at the bikers in the booth across from theirs. The woman rolled her eyes, popping her bubblegum. She took the rest of the Pogues’ orders before disappearing somewhere behind the bar. JJ followed her with his eyes, blocking out the conversation his friends were currently having. The waitress came back out of what he assumed to be the kitchen and handed the paper with their orders to another girl behind the bar. JJ guessed she was the barmaid, and boy was she a bit of him. 

She was wearing the same uniform as her colleague, although JJ had to admit - it looked a whole lot better on her, at least from what he could see from above the bar. Her hair was long and brown, half of it tied up effortlessly, and slightly messily, although JJ didn’t mind one bit. He watched her as she took the paper from her colleague and went to fetch the drinks written on it. He couldn’t make out what exactly colour her eyes were, and quite frankly - he didn’t really care, she was gorgeous regardless of what her eyes looked like, and she looked around his age. Had the sun and heat gotten to his head, or was it just the fact that he hadn’t touched a female in so long, he didn’t know, but if there was one thing JJ Maybank was notorious for, it was his ability to pull any girl his heart desired effortlessly. This is why he excused himself from the table and, albeit his friends’ confused looks and comments, he made his way towards the bar, sliding into one of the stools directly across from the girl. 

She looked up at him, “Can I help you?” “Brown…” JJ mumbled to himself. “Excuse me?” She said, this time sounding slightly annoyed. Her eyes were brown, JJ thought, brown and sexy. He coughed, trying to compose himself and gave her his signature Maybank stare. It worked wonders back home, surely it would work wonders now again. “Name’s JJ,” he said suavely, “I��m not from around here-“ “Clearly,” she muttered, picking up a bottle of whiskey. JJ assumed it was for him, “Aren’t you a little young to be drinking, JJ?”

JJ smirked, “What can I say, I have the face of a boy but the body and mind of a man.” The girl snickered under her nose, “Sure. Well since you’re here, make yourself useful and bring your drinks over to your friends,” she gave him a fake smile, placing a tray with their orders on it in front of him, after which she turned her back to him and walked towards the back of the bar. JJ was too busy observing her behind to notice the other waitress standing next to him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Should I take that or will you?” She said, waking JJ up from his everlasting daydream. “Oh, uh, don’t sweat it…” he said, picking up the tray and carrying it over to his friends’ booth. “So much for customer service,” Sarah laughed. “And to think my dad says I’m hostile to our customers,” Kiara muttered out. JJ took his seat next to her, his eyes never leaving the bar. “La Guardiana,” Pope read out loud, “This place is called La Guardiana, and apparently we’re somewhere in Florida.” “Florida?” John B said, confusion dripping through his words. Pope nodded, pointing at some text on the bottom of the menu. 

La Cubanita Hotel & Restaurant **, 97 Diego’s Crescent, La Guardiana, FL 

“Holy shit, we’re in Florida!” John B whisper yelled. Sarah laughed at his reaction, “Calm down now, Sancho, let’s not draw any attention to us,” “Yeah, you might wanna tell Casanova here that,” teased Pope, nodding his head in JJ’s direction, “Was it really worth it to potentially blow our cover just to talk to that girl?” JJ snapped at Pope, “Hey, man, just ‘cuz you don’t have the nuts to go over there and talk to her yourself,” “Yeah, I really want to attract the staff’s attention, you know, even more than we already are, seeing as we’re the only other busy table at this place.” “Your food,” the waitress from earlier was back with some of the Pogues’ orders. They waited for her to be out of earshot and JJ spoke up, “Relax, P, I bet you I can charm the pants off that girl and we won’t even need to sneak out without paying!” Pope gave JJ a fake smile, “Mhm, I’m sure she’s gonna be so deep under your spell she won’t even notice us leaving without paying a cent." JJ rolled his eyes, picking up a toothpick from the table and placing it between his teeth. “Might even offer us a place to crash, you know, because she’ll be so captivated by you.” Pope continued to tease. “Yeah, chicks totally dig this whole I’m homeless and I haven’t properly showered in like 15 days look you're going for,” Sarah joined in on the teasing. Kiara laughed and added, “Yeah, and the bit that’s gonna fully seal the deal for her is that you have literally nothing to offer her, like 0 dollars.” Everyone was laughing while JJ just crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned to look out the window, “Talk all you want, guys, but once we get that gold back, you’ll see who’ll dig what.” “The rest of your order,” he recognised the girl’s voice. It was her bringing their food over this time. She placed John B’s plate in front of him and then made her way around the table, next to where JJ was sat. She handed him his plate and bent down slightly, so that her lips were on the same level as JJ’s ear, “Next time you decide to share your criminal plans, you might wanna talk a bit more quietly.” She whispered, setting his cutlery down for him, “Oh, and, you might be charming wherever you come from, but your friend’s right. That shit doesn’t work around here.” She said, patting him on the shoulder before walking away. JJ didn’t waste time sitting around to listen to his friends pass comments about what had just happened, he downed his whiskey and practically chased after the girl. “I’m guessing you’ll want another one?” She said, not even turning around. JJ wondered how she knew that he was there. When she turned to face him, the bottle of whiskey was in her hand. “Let’s see… Do I pour you another one and close my eyes about you planning to leave without paying, or do I do what anyone else in my position would do and call the police on you? Hmm…” she pretended to think, her eyes never leaving JJ’s now panicking ones. “Please don’t call the cops,” he blurted out, the whiskey hitting his brain and making him stress out more than he wanted to admit to, “Look, we - we were in a boat accident, we don’t even know how we got here, hell - we didn’t even know where we were up until 10 minutes ago! And we - we don’t have  any documents on us, we don’t have any sort of identification, what would you -“ “Relax, kid,” the girl smirked, picking up two glasses and pouring a generous amount of whiskey in both of them, “I won’t rat you out.” She said, handing JJ one of the glasses and raising hers for a toast. JJ clinked his glass with hers, a large smile growing on his face, his dimples becoming very prominent, “Thank you, really… That means a lot.” The girl took a moment to observe JJ, then to look at his friends having a heated conversation at their booth, all of them practically stuffing their faces with food in an almost animalistic sort of way. Could this boy really be telling the truth? Could these kids have been lost at sea with no place to go? She looked back at JJ who was also looking at her. Despite the smile plastered on his face, she could clearly see that he was extremely nervous still. “Hey,” she said, “I told you to relax, didn’t I. I won’t charge you for your food, in fact… I might even have a place for you to sleep and clean up tonight.” JJ’s eyes grew wider at her words, “You what?” She leaned in closer to him over the bar and lowered her voice so that he would be the only one to hear, “Hotel upstairs, my aunt owns it. She’s currently out of town with my cousin. Should be back next Thursday. I think I can fit you and your friends in. You just have to promise to be on your best behaviour.” She said, pulling away and taking another sip from her drink. JJ couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was too good to be true. She was hot and she was willing to help? This must have been his lucky day. Sarah could suck it, and so could the others. Clearly this girl was into him. Why else would she be offering to help? “So, uh, what’s in it for me?” He asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. The girl opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the other waitress groaned from behind her. “Samara, how many times do I have to tell you?” Her croaky voice rang. The girl, who JJ had just learned was called Samara, rolled her eyes and repeated with her colleague, “No drinking on the job, yeah yeah, I know. But Heather’s gone and so is Conner, so who can tell me what to do, really?” She said, finishing what was left of her whiskey, “Besides, Georgia, as far as I’m concerned, since they’re both gone, that leaves me in charge, no? Now get back to work,” she said, making her colleague roll her eyes at her. Samara turned around to face JJ again, giving him a wink, before disappearing into the kitchen. JJ couldn’t believe his luck. He swung his arm over the bar and picked up the bottle of whiskey to pour himself one more drink before returning to his friends. “Guys-“ JJ tried getting their attention. “So what are we supposed to do now? We’re totally screwed!” “They’re gonna call the police on us, hell, they probably already have! The cops could be on their way!” “Guys!” JJ yelled, catching even the bikers’ attention. His friends looked up at him, worry filling all of their eyes. “You’ll never believe what I’m about to tell you, oh, and Sarah? You can eat your words.” He smirked before telling them what had just happened. “Hold on,” said Kiara, her face revealing her confusion, “So this random girl in this random place just randomly said that we can crash here until when?” “Next Thursday, or was it Tuesday? What day is it today?” JJ scratched his head. “JJ!” Kiara slapped his arm, “What if this is a trap? It sounds too good to be true doesn’t it? Like, what’s in it for her? We don’t even know her! What if she’s a murderer or something?” “She’s right, you know,” Cleo chimed in. “She is,” said John B, “But we have nothing to lose, literally.” Pope nodded, “I’d usually agree with Kie, but John B’s right. We have nothing to lose. And what if she calls the police? What could even happen then? We get put in jail for agreeing to sleep in a hotel for free? Come on, guys, I’m sure we can all agree that a bar of soap and a normal bathroom would do us good. I mean, we stink.” Everyone laughed at Pope’s remark before Kiara turned to JJ again, “So what’s the plan?” Realisation just struck JJ that he didn’t in fact know what the plan was. Samara had told him virtually nothing about how any of this would go down. Where were they supposed to meet? Was she going to take them to their rooms? Would they all be sharing one room? He was so busy thinking about how all of this would go down, he barely noticed Samara herself passing him a note. It was taken out of her colleague, who JJ now knew to be Georgia’s notepad. The note read in messy handwriting:

Bring your friends to the lobby. Straight down the hallway by the bathrooms. 

JJ turned the piece of paper towards his friends and they all got up, rushing towards the hallway by the bathrooms.

[dumdumsun]

Of Starlight

A/N: Enjoy ❤️

Warnings: none that I’m aware of

Word Count: 2912

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Chapter 18: What Would Have Happened

It happened so quickly. One minute, Hazel had shown up to the mansion with the desire to help the family with the prevention of the apocalypse, then next minute, Five was watching Diego and Hazel fight before him for almost a full forty five seconds. Punches and kicks were thrown, blood was drawn, but Five decided to step in when Diego clamped his teeth down on Hazel’s ear. Setting his margarita down on the bar, Five blinked behind his brother with a glass vase before smashing it down on his head, the vigilante collapsing to the ground, unconscious. “I draw the line at biting.” He remarked as he made his way back over to the bar. He glanced over at Hazel, who was groaning and nursing his ear. “Hazel, whatever you came here to say, I suggest you make it quick, before he comes ‘round.”

“I left my partner, quit the Commission, came to volunteer.”

“For what?” Five returned to his seat at the bar, picking up his drink.

“To help stop the apocalypse.” Hazel swiped glass off of his shoulder. The man earned a chuckle from the boy as he sipped on his drink. Hazel frowned. “What on earth could be so funny to you right now?”

“Before I answer that, why do you wanna help us?”

Hazel took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in a doughnut shop.” Whatever that meant. Five smiled as he took his straw out of his mouth.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, pal, but you’re a day late and a dollar short. The fact that you’re here right now means, without a shadow of a doubt, the apocalypse is over.”

“Really? How do you know?”

“The mark is dead. Found him this morning,” Five inhaled as he thought over (Y/N)’s words of suspicion. “You were the last known unknown left in the equation.”

Hazel let out an airy chuckle, slightly shaking his head. “Shit… Really?”

“Mmhm,” Five nodded and turned around in his seat. “And if you’re out, then Hellrider ain’t riding.”

Throwing his head back, Hazel inhaled deeply, raising his fists in the air. “Oh! Alright!” He grinned. Letting out a relieved laugh, he stepped away from Diego and joined Five at the bar. Picking up the blender, he gulped down what was left of the margarita, Five chuckling and turning his head forward. When Hazel emptied the blender, he set it back in place, exhaling in content. “So now what?”

“You know, to be honest, I don’t know. I’ve been chasing this thing for so long, I…,” He and Hazel turned to each other. “I never really thought about the day after… I don’t know. What about you?”

“I’m done with all of this madness,” Hazel shook his head. “Time to start over. You should do the same.”

“That’s easier said than done…”

“It doesn’t have to be hard. I mean, think about it like this. If you never time traveled, you never got caught up with The Handler, what would have happened?”

Five glanced over his shoulder, at the unconscious Diego, before turning back to Hazel. “I guess I would have grown up to be an emotionally stunted man-child like everybody else around here,” He nodded, Hazel softly chuckling. “But after that… I guess I would have married the love of my life.”

Hazel raised his brows and leaned back a bit. “Really? I would’ve never guessed a cold-hearted killer would have a soft spot. Especially for a girl.”

“Yeah, well… neither did I. But there’s nothing else I’d rather do right now…”

“Well, there you go. Now you can grow up and get married,” Rising from his seat, Hazel nodded at the boy. “Good luck.” As he began to leave, Five glanced over at Delores. This was the time to make things right. The boy called out to Hazel as he turned toward him.

“One more thing before you go.”

“Shoot.”

“Which one of you was the triggerman for Detective Patch?”

“Triggerwoman.” Hazel blinked. Five sighed through his nose.

“Huh. That’s too bad… That gun could’ve cleared my brother’s name.”

Hazel inhaled as he reached into his pockets. “Well, today’s your lucky day, amigo,” He took out two guns and walked up to Five, setting them down on the bar. “Take ‘em both. I’m done with this life.”

Five gave him a ghost of a smile of gratitude as he watched him leave the parlor. And with that, another weight had been lifted from his child-like shoulders. Turning back to Delores, Five deeply sighed. “Now it’s… Now it’s figuring out what (Y/N) wants…”

“Diego?!” As if on cue, the girl’s voice rang throughout the room. He looked over his shoulder to see her crouching beside their brother, placing a hand on his head, (e/c) eyes full of concern.

“He’s fine.” Five spoke up. Her head snapped up to him.

“He is?”

“I just knocked him out. Did what I had to do.”

“Oh, well, then…” She stood with a shrug, moving to his side. Sitting down in the seat Hazel once occupied, she placed a hand on his back. “How’re you doing, bub?”

The nickname sent a rush of heat to Five’s face and ears. He hoped to god it wasn’t noticeable. “Honestly, I’m a little lost, Starlight… I didn’t have a plan after this.”

“Well, then, what do you wanna do?” She held his free hand in hers, raising it to her lips. “Now that you’ve got loads of freetime.”

“I was hoping you’d help me with that,” He leaned closer, gently touching foreheads with her. “Now that I have no idea what the future holds for us… I just want to have one with you.”

“I’ve cried enough these past eight days, Five,” (Y/N) sniffled with a grin on her face. “Don’t make me do it again.” They both chuckled quietly, hands tightly clasped together. They knew this wasn’t a life or death situation, but they’d been so used to losing each other that every moment of peace felt like nothing but the calm before the horrible, horrible storm. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around her love in a warm hug. Not even hesitating, he returned it, gently rubbing her shoulder. “You mean it? You want a future with me?”

“I mean it with every pubescent bone in my body.”

“Ew…” She laughed, the sound alone tugging at his heart. He then felt the warmth of her lips pressed against the corner of his mouth. He swore his heart exploded right then and there. When she pulled away, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t formulate a single sentence in his mind. It hadn’t even been a real kiss and yet it had rendered him speechless, nonetheless. She smirked in amusement at his current state. “Five, you’re staring.”

“I’m well aware.” He breathed. She giggled and circled around him to leave the room, their eyes never breaking contact as their fingers lingered against each other. When they had finally let go, both their hands twitched, itching for that contact again. (Y/N) placed her fingers against her lips as she turned away and left the parlor to head upstairs. She had planned to go check on her children again. It had felt like months since she’d last seen them. Now that the end of all life on earth had been stopped, she knew she had to make things right and explain everything to them. No matter how crazy she sounded. She owed them that much.

She passed by Allison’s room, but stopped when she saw movement from the small crack in the door. Slowly opening the door wider, she gasped at the sight of Allison, now in different clothing, walking around her room. The woman turned towards the door, a tearful smile stretching across her face. “You’re awake…” The girl teared up as the two ran to each other, engulfing one another in a hug. Allison sniffled and kissed the top of her sister’s head. “Oh, god, you’re okay, Ally, you’re okay…” She repeated, more to herself than to Allison. When they pulled away, they sat themselves on the bed. The Rumor reached over to her notepad and began to write something down. (Y/N) leaned over and rested her elbows on her knees, waiting patiently for her sister with a small smile on her face. The smile faltered when Allison turned the notepad to her.

VANYA KNOWS

“She knows?” (Y/N) frowned. “She knows what?” Her gaze followed Allison’s writing.

WHAT WE DID

“Allison, I’m not understanding.” She shook her head. Allison sighed in frustration and hastily scribbled down her response.

THE RUMOR

“The rumor? Like… when we were little?” She asked, Allison nodding. “Is that why she did this? She found out about… but I don’t understand. What did the…”

“I heard a rumor… you think you’re just ordinary.”

“Number Eight, summon a clone. Tell it to make sure Number Seven does not leave her room. No matter what.”

Her face formed into horrified shock. “So, Vanya has powers,” The nod of confirmation from Allison had the girl running her hands down her face. “Jesus Christ… and we were both in on it…” The two sat in silence. Both in fear. Both in shame. Shameful of the pain they’d caused their sister, of blindly following through with their father’s plans without a single word of protest. (Y/N) turned her attention to the sound of the marker against the paper.

ITS MY FAU-

“No,” (Y/N) held Allison’s wrist, forcing her to halt her writing. “It’s my fault as much as it is yours. We were both there… I take this blame with you. Okay, Ally? You don’t have to make yourself feel like shit all the time,” The scoff she got from Allison made (Y/N) frown. “Allison, tell me one good thing you think you’ve done.” Silence followed. Allison stared down at her knees for what seemed like forever before shaking her head with a shrug.

“Well, I’ve got a list. Let’s see… You promote my work in your interviews… You gave birth to my favorite niece,” The woman silently giggled at that. “You were my maid of honor… You stay so fucking strong despite the shit thrown at you constantly,” She reached over and held her sister’s hand. “You’re learning, Ally. We all are. No one said we had to be perfect… We do shitty things and then we learn from them. Yes, part of the process is feeling like shit, but it isn’t the end. I just want you to know… you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me. If you ever feel like a piece-of-shit-sister… know that I think otherwise. Vanya doesn’t hate you… I’m sure after we properly apologize, she’ll understand, right? She just found out that everything she was ever told was a lie… and the source of it. She’s learning, too. We just need to be patient with her. No one really ever was…”

Allison smiled down at her notepad and scribbled something down before holding it up.

PRETTY SMART FOR A KID

“Piss off, Allison.” (Y/N) laughed.

-------------------------------------------------

After leaving Allison to her own devices, (Y/N) slipped into her bedroom and swiped her car keys off her bedside table. She whistled a tune and spun the keys on her finger as she walked towards the stairs. Hearing rustling, she halted when she saw Five in his own room. She walked inside and gently knocked on the door. He looked up from the duffle bag he had just unzipped and smiled tightly. “Hey, Starlight.”

“Hey, bub,” She watched him with a raised brow. “What’re you doing?”

“Uh, well… I figured if I’m going to move on and live as much of a normal life as I can… I’ve gotta let go of the past.” He motioned towards Delores, who sat in her usual chair. (Y/N)’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Seriously? Five, you’re returning Delores?”

“It won’t be easy, I admit,” He grunted. “But I… I have to do this.”

“Make things right,” She nodded, Five staring at her in slight confusion. “You could say I’m on my own journey with that…”

“We all might as well be,” He slowly picked up Delores, his green eyes holding so much care and fondness for the mannequin. He hesitated as he so very gently placed her in the duffle bag. Sighing, he turned his head to (Y/N). “Would you like to say any last words to her, (Y/N)?”

“Oh, uh… Sure,” The girl cleared her throat and slowly walked to Five’s side. He stepped back a little to give her space. Her eyes darted around the room. From Five, to his posters, to the window, before finally landing on Delores. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Delores… um, well, we didn’t talk all that much, but… I think if Five likes you so much, you must be pretty great. I, uh… actually wanna thank you… for taking care of him. He went through hell and my worst fear was that he’d do it alone… but you came in and did what I couldn’t. And I’ll be eternally grateful for that. I wish you luck in life, Delores.” Standing up straight, she turned to Five, who nodded in satisfaction.

“Beautifully said. Now,” He walked closer and zipped up the duffle bag. “I’ll only be a little while.”

“Oh, wait,” (Y/N) gently pressed her hand to his chest to stop him. “I can drive you there.”

-------------------------------------------------

(Y/N)’s car parked in front of the department store Five had directed her to. Very slowly, the boy removed his seatbelt and turned to the backseat, where the duffle bag sat. He let out a breath and slowly reached back for it. “I don’t know, Starlight… If I can…”

“I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want, Five… But if you truly want to move on and have… that future… This is kinda necessary. I know you can do this, bub. You have more than just Delores now. You’ve got our siblings, you’ve got me.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Five hummed and grabbed hold of the duffle bag, dragging it into his lap. His finger gently ran over the fabric as he shut his eyes.

“I know…”

Seeing the somber look in his eyes once they opened, she tilted her head and smiled. “Make sure they get her a new outfit. She’d look beautiful in red.”

Five chuckled and shook his head, opening his door to leave. “I’ll be back.” He whispered.

“And I’ll be right here.” She smiled. He returned the expression before getting out and closing the door, swinging the bag onto his back as he strode inside the store. (Y/N) leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, a distant vision she’d had years ago resurfacing her memories.

-------------------------------------------------

The clone stood a few feet away from Five, who sat on the hood of an abandoned car with Delores by his side. The boy sighed and stared up at the star-painted sky. He threw his arm around the mannequin’s “shoulder” and leaned into her. “These stars remind me of (Y/N)... Who is she? Oh, just… a girl…” The clone stalked closer to the car in silence. “What? No, Delores, she’s… Well, she’s dead now. I just called her Starlight because… that’s what she was to me. In an endless sea of darkness, she shone in all her glory. She didn’t make the darkness go away, but she sure made it more bearable to live with… Yeah,” He bitterly chuckled. “Yeah, I was in love with her… But it doesn’t matter. She’s… She’s gone now,” He turned his head to face Delores, his eyes softening. “But at least I have you…”

The clone’s foot came into contact with a nearby scrap of metal, the screeching of it sliding against the ground alerting Five. He jumped up and turned to the clone in anger. “Go away!” He tried waving it off. When it didn’t respond, he hopped off the car and stormed up to it. “I said go away! All you ever do is stand there and look like her! You don’t talk like her or smile like her o-or laugh like her! You just sit there and take up space! Just get the hell away from me!” He shouted, not daring to get any closer, for he knew he’d only get shoved back. The clone only squinted its eyes at Five, the boy sighing in exasperation and stomping back to the car. It watched as he sat atop the hood, burying his face into his hands.

“What the hell am I gonna do with it, Delores…?”

-------------------------------------------------

The girl snapped her eyes open when she heard the car door opening. Turning to her right, she was greeted with the sight of Five. Alone. As he climbed into his seat and shut the door, she grinned brightly at him. She reached her hand over and placed it over his. “I’m so proud of you…” She whispered. The boy only nodded, eyes trained on his knees. (Y/N) tilted her head and hummed in a soothing manner. She considered her next decision for about a solid two minutes before starting the car up again.

“Do you want to meet Michael and Jada?”

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[angelic-bee-enthusiast]

Hope you'll enjoy it... It's just a short fic, but I wanted to write something a little bit more light-hearted for a change, hope it worked adhajks. It's canon compliant up until Jack's birth, then it diverges., though that's not really important. Again, I'm fairly new to this and still learning, so it may be a little bit ooc, I still need to figure out how to write each of them! ca. 1,1k, post-canon, domestic idiots, background toddler!Jack

Yes, he once led armies and was one of Heaven's best strategists. Yes, he is an Angel of the Lord, a celestial being unfathomable to the human mind. Yes, he is currently partaking in a heated discussion with Dean about which is the best bed to get for his toddler in the middle of an IKEA.

"Cas, man, I'm sure he'll be happy with whatever choice you make. He's three, and I don't think he has that big of an opinion on interior design. However, I personally think the one looking like a car is the best one," Dean argues, not even trying to hide his distaste for Cas' choice - a simple wooden frame.

"Not everyone is as fond of cars as you are, Dean. I know you think it's 'lame', but we could paint the bed on our own, that way Jack would have something a little bit more personal," Cas answers, hoping to finally reason with the other man.

"Didn't know you were much of an artist," Dean simply replies.

"Well, actually, I hoped you would do most of the painting, maybe add some little bees or flowers?" I saw the drawing you did of me for the bestiary - you're really good at it."

Obviously, Cas knows the hunter is shy when it comes to his artistic talents. It's something a lot of people don't even know about him.

As expected, Dean blushes immediately. Scratching his neck, he mumbles something that suspiciously sound like 'didn't know you saw that'.

Sighing, Cas continues nevertheless. "So, can we please just take that one and leave? Sam and Eileen have been alone with Jack for hours now, they'll need a break sometime soon."

"Dude, they can watch the kid for half a day - I've taken care of Sammy's sorry ass since I was four, they'll handle a Thursday afternoon. Besides, when we're already here, don't you wanna get something for your own room, too? Just something a little more homey than the standard bunker stuff," Dean responds far more cheerfully than he's been just minutes before, though there's also another, underlying question on his mind.

Ever since Jack was born, Cas started to spend more time and the bunker, but of course, there have also been times he had to leave, together with Jack, to protect him. Thankfully, everything calmed down the last couple of months after their last big fight ended, and even though Cas has been living with them ever since, Dean feels like the Angel doesn't see the bunker as his own home, too. The older Winchester wants to change that, first, to make his best friend feel welcome, secondly, to keep Cas from leaving.

It's selfish, Dean tells himself, wanting to keep his friend close at all times. Additionally, his non-existent self-worth supplies that Cas, a celestial warrior as old as creation, could certainly do a lot better than a broken 40-something-year old. Trapped in his self-deprecating thoughts, Dean, at first, doesn't even realize Cas asked him a question.

"Oh...I didn't know this was actually my room?", Cas retorts shyly, blue eyes now avoiding his gaze.

Gobsmacked, Dean stares at him, trying to figure out if that was a joke. It had to be a joke, right? Doesn't Cas know how important he is to them? Crap, they really need to get that into his thick skull ('Maybe if you used your words for once, he'd know it', another, unhelpful voice inside his head condescendingly points out).

"Buddy, you gotta be kidding me. Yes, obviously it's your room, dumbass. You know we like having you around just because you're you, right? Not only in live-or-die situations or when we need your help," Dean chooses his next words carefully, admitting he cares doesn't come easy to him after all. "I want you to stay, you gotta know that."

It's as close as he ever came saying that three words that have been laying on the tip of his tongue for years now. Suddenly, it's Cas time to turn slightly red, despite angelic control over his body.

"I'm sorry, I didn't really... not like that, anyway. Thank you for telling me," the Angel softly murmurs.

After that, it takes Dean a second to notice that he's been pulled into a tight hug, then another second to return the gesture.

In the corner of his eyes, the hunter sees that an older lady is watching them, smiling friendly. They embrace each other a little bit longer than it may be strictly platonically acceptable, but who cares? Dean doesn't. After they've parted, the woman starts approaching them.

"Please forgive me for interrupting, but I just wanted to say, you two really make a lovely couple! It's not often you can feel the love radiating off of strangers," she compliments the two men.

While Cas' initial reaction is mostly confusion, Dean feels like he's just been slapped. No even knowing what he's going to say, he opens his mouth and closes it again, only for a rushed 'Thank you?' to come out.

Nodding, and giving each of them one last smile, she returns to her own shopping cart.

Cas must have caught up to the situation now, because he doesn't let Dean off to easy.

"You could have corrected her," the Angel sates, a hint of curiosity behind it.

"Oh...yes, I guess I could've. I mean correct her, because - because we're not actually together. But I didn't."

The hunter is internally begging himself to stop at this point, never before having felt a desire that strong to just shut up. He doesn't even know why he said it, but maybe talking about their home and their... Cas' kid, the domesticity of it, made Dean's meticulously crafted walls crumble.

Squinting, and most likely seeing right through Dean's babbling, Cas decides to casually drop another bomb at him.

"You know, I don't mind you... not correcting people," he tentatively approaches the subject.

"You, uhm, you don't?" Dean asks, eyes huge enough to really earn him the nickname squirrel.

Cas doesn't know where he suddenly, after more than a decade, gets the courage from, but he reaches for Dean's hand, who lets him.

They're staring in each other's eyes, as if they could decipher what the other thinks just by looking hard enough. Finally, his expression soft and full of no longer hidden adoration and love, Cas whispers, "No, I really don't."

Something melts inside Dean, seeing his Angel like that, hearing the words he never thought he'd hear.

"Then let's get this stupid bed and head home, I think our plans for today just have changed," Dean grins like he hasn't in a really, really long time.

[foilfreak]

Beauty and Her Beast: Summary and Ch.1

A Salvatore Moreau x Female!FishMutant!oc fic based on this idea I had the other day that a very specific subset of the fanfom went absolutely apeshit for, which I'm here for and decided to act on. I can't make any promises for consistent uploading or even a finishes product by the end of this, but so long as im still interested in working on it, I'll keep working on it, and if im not, then I wont, plain and simple. Anyways, here's the summary and chapter 1, please let me know what you think of the story so far, i hope you all enjoy (you'd better all enjoy), and I can't wait to see you all again for chapter 2. Bye! <333 (Link to ao3 posting will be in comments so check there if you want to read it there instead)

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

Summary:

Now, I’m sure everyone already knows the ancient tales that tell of a beautiful young woman slowly falling in love with a horrific monstrosity of a man. The pure and true love this innocent beauty comes to feel for him, despite his terrifying appearance, is the key that breaks the cruel and twisted curse under which he’d been kept prisoner. This allows the man behind the monster to not only return to his true human form, but then go on to live his Happily Ever After with the beauty who saved him. Everyone already knows of these tales, as well as the messages behind them, however that is not quite the way this particular tale plays out.

The tale I am about to tell bears many similarities to the one above, however there are also quite a few important differences. For while the original detailed a beauty falling for a monster because of the kind and loving man he was behind his hideous exterior, this is a tale of a beauty, with a few monstrous qualities of her own, falling in love with a kind and loving monster, not at all despite his grotesque appearance, but rather, in part, because of it.

This is a tale, where the Beast still falls for his Beauty first, but the Beauty is the one who will be pursuing her Beast.

Chapter 1: Mother's Gift

Few of those who lived isolated from the outer world, high up in the mountains of Romania, would expect anyone of reasonable sanity to be out traveling in this hellish sort of weather. The wind howling a demonic high pitched tune; snow, sleet, and hail pounding into the ground like an endless shower of bullets from the heavens; and hungry lycans still roaming the area, tirelessly looking for their next meal, would be enough to incentivize even the strongest of mortal men to seek shelter away from the deadly conditions of the outside.

A man by the name of Salvatore Moreau however, one of the 4 lords of this mountain region who lived in the reservoir just past the windmills, did not appear terribly concerned with what other people thought of the traveling conditions. Completely unbothered by the horrifying weather and threat of suddenly being ground into doggy food, the hooded man trudged his way through the dark and barely maintained snow paths. Starting at the reservoir and making his way toward the village, Salvatore moved as quickly as his deformed body would permit, an unusually chipper spring added to his lumbering hobble of a walk.

Mother had a gift for him.

Yes, a truly joyous day it was whenever Mother Miranda called upon him to join her and the other lords for a meeting. Miranda was usually so busy with her experiments that she rarely had time to visit her children outside of these ‘family meetings’ they’d been having recently. However, it would appear as though Mother has come up with a solution of some kind to this problem and wishes to share it with them in person. Whatever this solution is, the mutated man has no idea, as Mother Miranda had been quite vague in her message, however the fact that Salvatore was being given the chance to see his radiant mother AND receive a gift from her, all in one day, was more than enough to make up for how agonizingly lonely he’s been these last few months since winter set in, as well as how agonizing it was for him to walk in this weather.

Salvatore arrived at the usual meeting site just as the clock struck 8pm, precisely as Mother had instructed. However, much to the hooded man’s confusion, when he turned the handle on the large wooden door to enter the room, he quickly realized that he was currently the only one present. This was especially strange considering that, usually, at least one of his siblings was always present a little earlier than necessary, usually Alcina or Karl, but occasionally Donna with Angie in tow.

Mother had clearly said in her message that she wanted to start the meeting at 8pm sharply, so where on earth is everyone?

“Moreau” Mother Miranda’s voice called out, immediately pushing all thoughts from Salvatore’s brain as her powerful, yet lucious voice echoed against the halls of the room like a choir of angels.

“Y-yes! W-what… is it… M-mother Miranda? I-i-i came to you… j-just like you asked” Salvatore responds, bowing his head in reverence as he slowly crosses the room and approaches the otherworldly woman.

“So you did, though I suppose you coming exactly when I call makes the most sense. You always were the most obedient of my children” the woman remarks with casual disdain, her voice devoid of any sort of motherly affection or tenderness. Despite the clear disgust and disregard with which Miranda regards the hooded man standing before her, her words light Salvatore’s soul ablaze, filling his mangled body with intense feelings of heat and desire that melt his heart of the cold, icy frost that had frozen it over the course of the long winter.

“Y-y-yes, y-yes of c-course, Mother M-Miranda! I-i would… I would do any-anything... for y-you. A-anything you s-say... anything y-you n-need… I’d d-do it... f-for you. W-without question!” The deformed man says, practically getting on his hands and knees and crawling as he neared closer and closer to Miranda, stopping only when he’d arrived just in front of the steps the raven mother stood upon, his gaze trained at the ground as he knelt at her feet, awaiting his fate at his mother’s hands.

“I know you would, Moreau,” Miranda says cooly, gently brushing the palm of her hand against the black fabric that covers the top of Salvatore’s head, “which is why I’ve called you here today; to reward you for your loyalty and service to me thus far.”

Salvatore sinks sharp and jagged teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as he desperately tries to silence the needy whine that wanted to tear its way from the back of his throat. His body shivered and twitched in unimaginable delight from the sudden tender caress to his sensitive skin. How long had it been since someone had touched him so gently? How long since someone had spoken to him with such kind and soft words. Took the time to gather presents as a reward for years of faithful servitude? How long since someone had loved him like this?

‘Too long’ the disfigured man sighed to himself, reveling in the soft, gentle contact for as long as he is able.

“Moreau. Look at me” Miranda commanded firmly, and despite not wanting his beloved Mother to be forced to bear witness to his hideous face, he complied, lifting his head up and back to allow his gaze to lift from the floor and up at the glowing figure that was his Mother, his beautiful, incredible, intelligent, majestic mother.

The light shining down from above illuminates Miranda from behind. From Salvatore’s perspective on the floor, the light darkens her face and most of her torso and waist, giving a softened, almost ethereal glow around Miranda’s figure. This, along with the rest of her garb, makes Mother Miranda appear even more like the holy woman that Salvatore naively believes she still is. Despite her less than affectionate treatment of him thus far, Salvatore still stared up at the darkened face of Mother Miranda, his eyes shining with reverence, love, desire, and unending devotion.

“Y-yes... Mother?” Salvatore breathed, barely able to speak above a whisper as Miranda stepped away, gesturing for him to follow.

“Are you ready to collect your gift now?” The raven mother asks, speaking more softly than before and even holding her hand out to Salvatore, her pose and appearance mirroring that of a powerful god taking mercy upon her wretched follower, reaching out to reward the years of faithful servitude and worship.

Salvatore, barely able to keep himself calm as he stumbled to his feet, did not grace Mother Miranda’s question with a proper response, instead practically racing to take the woman’s outstretched hand in his own.

“I’m ready Mother… I-I’m ready for... my g-gift now… can I… c-can I have it n-now… p-please?” Salvatore begs, pulling at Miranda’s hand like an overly excited child, seemingly unaware of the disgusted twist of her face when the hooded man’s cold, slimy fingers firmly latched onto hers.

“Of course, my child” Mother Miranda says, pulling her hand back from Salvatore’s and instead placing it along the man’s hunched back, beginning to guide him to wherever it was the raven mother had hidden his gift.

As Salvatore limped next to Mother Miranda, the deformed man couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that Mother had gotten for him. Was it a new cloak, to replace the worn one he was currently wearing? Perhaps a new set of romance films so he didn’t have to rewatch the ones he already owned over and over again anymore? Or maybe it was something to help with his digestion?

It would be nice to get his chronic acid reflux under control again.

Regardless of what the gift actually turned out to be however, Salvatore was merely pleased that he was finally getting a chance to spend time with Mother Miranda all by himself for a change.

Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d even agree to hold him, just like she always did back when he was still undergoing cadou treatment.

Oh how wonderful that would be!

[cabensonsgirly]

👼Baby's Got Trouble. Don't Know How To Live. Don't Want To Die. (Cordelia Goode)👼

Cordelia Goode x fem!reader

👼Part 6 of SP getting reader pregnant👼

👼Slice 1👼

Co-authored with @billiedeannovak

Somewhat au but more so later xx

👼Wordcount: 3422👼

👼Posted on AO3: Read Here👼

👼Content: Your mum sucks, slow-burn, fluff, angst, alcohol, more to be added later👼

👼“No, ma’am. It isn’t crazy hippie rubbish. As I said, your daughter has a place here at the academy. She will start classes upon arrival. It is best she bring all the clothing she has and any other personal items she might wan-“👼

“Hello? Is this the Robichaux or whatever place?”

“Robichaux Academy, yes it is. My name is Cordelia Goode, I’m the Headmistress of Robichaux Academy. How may I help?”

“Brilliant. My daughter, Yn, has somehow managed to break our wine glasses while we were- my husband, son, and I were sitting eating at the dining table. She then managed to fix them once the initial shock wore off but this can’t go on. She’s a disgrace to the family. We heard tales from her great grandmother about witches in Salem but we just thought she was going batty in her old age. Regardless, can you fix our daughter?”

“I- Ma’am, I understand that to people like you- er, I mean, people without magical abilities, that it is scary when these abilities show themselves, but it doesn’t mean your daughter needs to be- to be fixed. Yes, she can come to the academy, there should have been a letter in the-“

“Oh. That place. We got the letter and threw it out thinking it was some crazy hippie rubbish.”

“No, ma’am. It isn’t crazy hippie rubbish. As I said, your daughter has a place here at the academy. She will start classes upon arrival. It is best she bring all the clothing she has and any other personal items she might wan-“

“She will take what she can fit into that stupid bag of hers before we kick her out. We don’t want her in the house any longer. She’s a disgrace and is putting us in danger.”

“I think- I think she’s the one in danger, not you. People still- There are people out there that still want us dead. She will be safer surrounded by her sisters. Someone will come by to make sure she makes it here safely.”

“Good. I suggest someone come quick because after I hang up, she’s no longer welcome.”

“I- Okay ma’am. Very well then. Someone will be there shortly. Have a pleasant evening.”

You have always hated the dark ever since you were a little kid, it’s not the darkness itself that scares you but rather the inability to see what could see you. The lights that lined the streets offered little to no visibility, they were as useful as soldiers would be standing in their place, in fact, they were probably what made you most unnerved about sitting outside on the curb at night, they had this uneven yellow glow to them that only managed to give off light in a very small orb around them. The only thing that would make your current situation more unpleasant than it already was, would be if a thick fog rolled in, trapping the light in an even smaller radius, and making the darkness around you all that more ceaseless.

It was a relatively quiet part of New Orleans, and at the moment you couldn’t tell whether this was a blessing or a curse. Sure, there weren’t random people approaching you and asking if you have money or if you need help, but there was also no one around if something were to happen to you. Yes, your scream could be heard but no one would come running to see where it had come from or why it had been made.

Your parents hadn’t really explained much about where you were going, they said “gather your shit in that bag of yours and get out” followed by a “someone from that hippie academy will pick you up” but that was all they had said before the door hit your ass on the way out of the house.

There weren’t any hippie academies that you could think of, you doubted they were even a thing. Wouldn’t a hippie academy be counterintuitive to the whole hippie thing? Why were you even being sent away? It wasn’t your fault that the glasses broke, it was an accident! And you had fixed them so why were you suddenly sitting on your ass on the curb?

The low hum of a car draws your attention from your phone and makes you jump up and back from the curb so you don’t get hit by it. It’s a fancy car so surely it wouldn’t be here for you. Why would a black Mercedes A-Class Sedan pull up in front of you?

Maybe it was one of those gross rich people that wanted to give you a nice place to stay and anything you could desire in exchange for sex. No Bueno. One of the doors swing open and a young blonde woman steps out, brushing down the front of her knee-length black skirt before smiling shyly at you. “Are you Yn?”

You narrow your eyes and tighten your grip on the straps of your backpack “Who’s asking?” Despite current circumstances, the woman doesn’t come across like she would do anything to hurt you, she seems kind and has a certain air of innocence about her.

“Oh! My apologies, I’m Cordelia Goode. I’m the Headmistress of Robichaux Academy. I’m here to take you there. Have- Did your parents explain where you’re going and why?”

You shook your head and looked down briefly, toeing the dirt with your shoe before glancing back at her. “No. They pretty much told me to get my shit and leave, and that some ‘hippie academy’ person would come get me. Are- are you that person? Not- not a hippie person but- not- not that there’s anything wrong with if you are.”

Cordelia laughs softly and moves closer to you, offering her hand to carry your bag “Let me take that for you.” You hand her your bag, quietly apologising for it being heavy but she seems to hold it with ease. “So they told you none of what I discussed with them on the phone? That’s- that’s to be expected I guess. We can discuss this in the car on the way, okay?”

You nod and follow her back to the car, climbing in after her and closing the door. She whispers something to the driver before the car sets off, turning her attention back to you. “Do you know anything about witches and covens?”

“A little? My great grandma use to talk a lot about what happened to family in Salem but mom and dad always said she was just getting batty in her old age. She said that witch hunters would tear people from their homes and slaughter them, sometimes whole villages of people that were believed to be witches or- or even harboring them.

She use to show me magic tricks as a kid, making her purse disappear then reappear in my school bag. I never knew how she did it but- but it fascinated me. I talked to mum and dad about it, how amazing it was but they just told me to stop talking and never talk about it again. Other than that… I have no idea.”

“Your- your parents- mother- did briefly mention that your great grandmother use to talk about it but she, as you said, put it down to her being batty in old age. Unfortunately for your grandmother- great grandmother, sorry- what she talked to you about was- in some cases, still is, true. Witches, all though now have safer places and are more widely accepted, they- we, are still at danger of being killed by witch hunters.

At the academy, Robichaux, we are safe, the Supreme is incredibly strong and capable of protecting us, and there are a number of other older witches who help too. But like most covens, we are stronger together than we are divided. We are here to protect and help new witches grow. With us you will have a new family who will never turn their back on you when you are in a time of need.”

Looking out the window it was just a blur of colours from the lights and neon signs that lit up the streets signalling that New Orleans night life was just waking up. “What do you do when you grow up licking poison off knives and now that you’re finally going to be in a situation where you're fed on milk and honey, all you can think about is running because something that sweet can’t be anything other than poison? What is that quote…

I don’t know how to stay tender-“

“with this blood in my mouth? Ophelia, act 4, scene 5. It is… appropriate considering your situation but… if I’m going off my impression of you, you are going to find it easy to continue being kind, even if you feel like you’re only good at hurting people. I can see that you have a good heart, Yn. Although my mother does tell me I’m not good at judging people.”

You smile shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly “Thank you, Cordelia. I hope I can prove your mother wrong and be the good person that you think I am.” You return your gaze to look out the window, admiring the different colour lights you can see and how busy this part of the city was. “It’ll be nice finally having someone that believes in me. That believes I am good.”

“You will find that there will be others out there who will see goodness in you too. But- but even if there aren’t… Know that I see it.”

The rest of the drive was filled with light-hearted banter, the kind you would hear good friends throw back and forth. You wouldn’t consider you and Cordelia to be friends seeing as you two have only just met but you felt as though it wouldn’t take long until you were.

By the time you made it to the academy it was around midnight, the building was grand and imposing, it had this energy to it that gave off the distinct impression that if you tried damaging it in anyway you would be the one that came away worse off. There were lights that lit the pathway and entryway up which somehow managed to make the building all the more intimidating despite feeling perfectly safe.

You went to grab your backpack but Cordelia bet you to it. “I can carry my bag, you know that right? I don’t mind taking my own shit- stuff in. You’ve already saved me from whatever hell my parents were going to impose on me, the least I can do is take my own things inside.”

She shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips as she leads the way up the path “I’m sure you can, but you’re new here and you’ve also had a long day, it’s the least I can do for a new coven member.” You let out a dramatic groan as you follow after her, she opens the door and steps to the side to let you in before coming in after you and closing the door behind you both.

“It’s so quiet. Is it always this quiet? I can’t- Nevermind” You shove your hands in your jacket pockets, waiting for Cordelia to take you to where you can hopefully get some sleep.

“It’s only this quiet when the girls aren’t creating mischief and partying, as well as when my mother hasn’t been drinking, mind you, I haven’t seen her since she left to travel the world... You’ll grow to appreciate this rare moment of silence.” She gestures for you to follow her as she leads you up a grand staircase, leading you down a hall before opening a door to your left.

“It’s a small room but I doubt you’d want the girls harassing you with questions at this hour so we’ll move you into their room tomorrow if you would like? There’s drawers for your clothes, a small desk, and of course a bed. The bathroom is next door and if you want hot water I suggest waking up before 7 or else Madison will use it all up when she takes her hour long shower.”

You nod your head and thank her quietly, taking your backpack from her you step in the room, dumping your bag on the desk before moving to close the curtains. “Is- Is there anything else I can do for you before I let you get some rest?” You turn around to look at her before looking at the floor “Is- Is it okay if I turn some music on? I’ll have it quiet so it doesn’t disturb anyone. I just- I can’t sleep when it’s silent.”

Cordelia smiles softly, she finds it rather adorable that you can’t sleep unless there’s noise of some sort but she doesn’t want to embarrass you or herself by admitting this. “Of course you can. I will make sure- or try to get you a radio so you don’t have to play it through your phone. I’m sure it will be nice to hear music rather than the girls screaming at each other over who stole whose makeup. I- I wouldn’t mind hearing what you like listening to” your eyes shoot up to look at her, a blush settling on both your faces.

“I- uhm… I- Good- Good night, Yn. I’ll come see you in the morning so I can introduce you to the others at breakfast. Uhm… Let- let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help you settle in. Good night.” She rushes out, hoping that you don’t notice how flustered she got but also has a gut feeling that you did notice. She gives you a small wave before leaving quickly, the door closing behind her.

You let out a slow breath, feeling the exhaustion from the day hit you like a bat out of hell. You knew this made no sense seeing as you did nothing physical but apparently being kicked out of home for being a witch had the same effect as running a marathon, it left you broken and tired.

You remove most of your clothing, leaving just your shirt and underwear on before climbing into bed, taking one last glance at your phone to see if you have any messages or calls from anyone but unsurprisingly there weren’t any. You turn the volume up a bit so you can hear your music then put it on your small side-table before turning over and trying to sleep.

No matter where you stayed or how exhausted you were, the first night sleeping somewhere new was always the hardest night sleep you had. Nevertheless, you managed to get to sleep relatively quickly but staying asleep was where it became difficult; the days events were playing in this off-kilter manner, like they were somehow glitching and just playing that awful moment where your powers revealed themselves and you saw the look of fear then disgust in your parent’s eyes on loop. No matter how hard you tried to change what you were dreaming about, your dreams would always end up looping back to this.

“We can never have a fucking normal dinner when you’re involved, can we? There is always something going on with you. Last night it was because you wanted to have a glass of wine and ended up polishing the bottle off yourself. And now!? Now it’s because you’re some freak.”

“Honey, that’s not- you can’t call our daughter that. This time it isn’t her fault this happened. Yes last night was unpleasant but you certainly weren’t helping and now you’re berating the poor girl.”

“Oh? It’s my fault? So what, you’re defending our freak of a daughter?”

“No- No that’s not- I’m not defending her. Tonight was- is just- this is out of her control and ours.”

“Exactly. Out of our control. She’s always been like this. I’m going to go make a call to that academy place. See if they can fix her.”

“I don’t need fixing! I’m not broken!”

“You’re right, you’re not broken. Just defective.”

“Mom? Don’t make her leave. She helps me with my homework when you’re not home. Please. I’ll miss her if you make her-“

“Shut up. This isn’t for little children to discuss. Take your dinner to your room and eat there. This is the last time you’ll be seeing your sister.”

“But-“

“No. Say your goodbyes now then go to your room.”

Your little brother gets out of his seat and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your legs before hugging you tight, mumbling “I’ll miss you. Sorry mom and dad are making you leave. If- if it counts for something I- I don’t think you’re defective.”

You hug him back, giving his hair a ruffle before letting him go, a sad smile on both your faces. “I’ll see you again someday, kiddo. Be good.”

“Unlike you, your brother isn’t a disappointment to this family.”

You wake with a start upon a knocking on your door, you feel panic surge through you thinking it was your mother about to verbally berate you but then you hear a soft voice. “Yn? May I come in? I thought it best to discuss with you what happens in the morning before lessons start.” You feel your cheeks heat up and pull the duvet up to cover you as you sit up, “uhm yeah- yeah you can come in.”

The doorhandle turns and the door swings open, revealing a youthful Cordelia, her long blonde locks tied back in a ponytail; if you hadn’t known who she was, you would have thought an angel had lost its way, she was beautiful. You look away not wanting to get caught staring, suddenly finding the ceiling to be the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen.

“Hey! Is that the new girl!? It’s the new girl! Co-“ Cordelia closes the door, shaking her head and letting out a quiet sigh before turning back to face you. “And here I was trying to make sure you would have a relatively peaceful morning, but it seems that the girls have other things in mind.”

You laugh lightly and shrug, “I’ll have to get use to it sooner or later so it’s alright.” She hums a bit, clasping her hands together at her waist. “So… We usually have breakfast together. Some mornings it’s a pleasant affair but then there are mornings where Madison decides to start drama…”

Cordelia trails off, a light blush colouring her cheeks “I- I probably shouldn’t talk like that but… there isn’t much point trying to sugar coat things. It was a lot worse when mother was staying here, as soon as she had some alcohol in her there is no stopping her. But that’s in the past anyway. She’s off traveling” she gestures vaguely with her hands “somewhere.”

You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle laughter, it seems like you’re not the only one who has a tempestuous relationship with their mother. “You’re not laughing at me, are you? It’s not a good look for a new student to laugh at her Headmistress.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing, it’s not that you were laughing at her but the situation in itself was pretty funny. “I- I’m not I swear” you manage to get out through little fits of laughter “It’s just funny that’s all.” She rolls her eyes but smiles “I doubt you’ll be laughing when mother has a fit and tosses you across the room. God… I really need her to stop doing that.”

Cordelia walks over to your curtains and opens them, flooding the small room with natural light, the golden and bubble-gum hues of the sunrise bringing life to the otherwise dull walls. “You’ll be fine. I doubt she’s returning home any time soon.”

She turns to look at you, a small smile on her face. “I should let you get dressed so you can get downstairs to have something to eat. I try getting breakfast over and done with before 10am but there are usually a few stragglers that appear later and pick at what’s left in the fridge. I’ll talk to the girls and try to get them to not hound you.”

You thank her and she makes her way over to the door, she rests her hand on the doorhandle, looking down before looking back at you. “I’m sorry that you came here because you had no other choice. I promise you that I won’t give up on you, regardless of what path you take in life.” She gives you a sad smile before leaving, the door closing quietly behind her.

[ashayatreldai]

His Face - Fic

Find this on AO3 or read it here.

Among Su She’s effects is found a bundle of sketches of Hanguang Jun, which inspires a lifetime of exchanges between Wei Wuxian and his husband.

***

Wei Wuxian yawned, barely remembering to cover his mouth with the back of his hand. It wasn’t as though Lan Wangji minded; he still marveled at his husband’s calm acceptance of his less than perfect behavior. And it wasn’t as if he were really tired. They’d been back in Cloud Recesses only a handful of days and most of that time Wei Wuxian had been able to rest, to wander the back hill, to play with the rabbits, to tease Sizhui and Jingyi, to play Chenqing to the birds and the rainbows the sun cast in the light mists of Gusu’s waterfalls. No, he supposed. He yawned because he was warm, well-fed, secure and safe, and in the best company a person could desire, let alone have all to himself.

Lan Wangji sat on the other side of the desk, and in spite of the hour was still working through the backlog of mail which had accumulated in his absence.

“What’s this?” A bundle of papers caught Wei Wuxian’s eye, and on impulse he reached and drew them out of the stack.

Lan Wangji looked up. “After the events at Gyanyin Temple, members of the Lan Clan disposed of the bodies, sealed the coffin in which Red Blade Master and Jin Guangyao are buried, and otherwise put the site in order. Among these activities, Su She’s body was searched and his personal effects catalogued. A quiankun pouch was found, containing an assortment of items. This bundle of papers was also in the pouch. I assume it was forwarded to me because I am the subject.”

Wei Wuxian leafed through the pages. It was a collection of sketches in a variety of media, all of Hanguang Jun’s face, mostly sketches of his eyes. They weren’t half bad: the artist had captured the micro-expressions which concealed everything but hid nothing of Hanguang Jun’s thoughts. But as he examined the pile, he experienced an increasing sensation of wrongness.

“I wonder what he was trying to capture. I mean, here’s ice, here’s anger. I think this one is arrogance or being haughty; and this one has to be indifference. And this,” he huffed out with a half smile, “has got to be ‘you are the scum beneath my shoe’.” That was a micro-expression Wei Wuxian had seen often on Lan Wangji’s face when they were young, as he kept poking and prodding until the carefully cultivated mask his friend wore finally slipped. He spread out the pictures, his eyes searching for the clues he knew he’d find. “Why would he want to draw these things and exclude others? I know a lot of people are afraid of you, Lan Zhan, because you look cold and imperturbable. But anyone who knows you and watches closely can see that there’s so much more to you than that.”

“Su She was cast out of the Lan Clan because he betrayed our secrets to Wen Xu. He was known for being desirous of imitating me – poorly. We can only speculate as to his motivations otherwise,” Lan Wangji commented quietly.

“Mmmm,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “He hated you, but he also idolized you. Who’s to say what came first? Whatever,” he said, shaking his head. “The fact he captured your eyes with these strong antagonistic expressions suggests he hated himself, and perhaps wanted to make you the one who hated him in his own mind. It’s easier to hate someone than to live with the pain of feeling rejected or not even noticed.”

“I never hated Su She.”

“No, I don’t think I’ve ever known you to hate anyone, Hanguang Jun.” Wei Wuxian felt a surge of protective affection for this dear man. “Not even those who deserve it. Su She unfairly judged you and didn’t know you at all. Still, when you think about what people say about me, the scary deranged Yiling Patriarch, anything’s possible in terms of what people do to themselves to justify hatred. Blargh!” He made claws with his hands and pulled a terrifying crazy Yiling Laozu face.

“Wei Ying.” There was amusement dancing in Lan Wangji’s eyes. “You do not scare me.”

Sometimes Lan Wangji could abruptly light a fuse in Wei Wuxian and leave him smoking. He laughed and crawled around to Lan Wangji’s side of the table, climbing into his lap to sit with one leg either side of Lan Wangji’s waist. His husband’s hands came up to support his lower back. He put both hands loosely around Lan Wangji’s neck.

Lan Wangi had removed his silver coronet and tendrils of hair that usually were wound up to hold the headpiece in place trailed either side of his face, making him look softer and younger and so much more vulnerable.

For some time they sat simply looking at each other. Wei Wuxian took in the flawless face, reaching one hand to trace Lan Wangi’s eyebrow, feeling the soft hairs brush beneath his fingerpads. He gently followed the line of an eyelash, delighting in the butterfly kiss as his husband blinked. Out over the swell of zygomatic bone, cupping around his perfectly shaped ear – he really was like exquisitely carved jade, warm, living, and here. He cupped Lan Wangji’s cheek, his thumb finding the hollow between nose and lip and the soft breath of life it held. And those lips, now quirked in a loving bow.

He pulled himself up to kiss the forehead ribbon, to plant gentle brushes of his lips over all the places he’d touched. When he came to Lan Wangji’s mouth, he finally let go, giving all his worship as they joined tongues, teeth, desire, losing themselves in each other.

They released the kiss, and held each other, Wei Wuxian’s head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder. Between them energy sizzled – it would be sated later, but it was sufficient for now to enjoy the beatitude of the moment, the closeness, words unnecessary to communicate the depth of heart each held for the other.

***

Wei Wuxian was traveling. His absence itched acutely just under Lan Wangji’s skin, a constant worry. He rued the duty which pinned him in his current dual roles: Chief Cultivator and Acting Sect Leader, keeping him grounded at Cloud Recesses instead of off night hunting with his husband.

It was necessary, he knew, for Wei Wuxian to move; the whole man was a study in movement, in ceaseless energy. He knew the staid and stable pattern of life at Cloud Recesses felt like a box to Wei Ying, and while he could endure for a season, he needed more than what life in Gusu offered, even with rabbits and a back hill to wander for hours.

But oh, he missed him. And he worried too: who would defend him when he had so little sense of self-preservation?

This journey, Wei Wuxian had set off to attempt to mend things with Jiang Cheng before making his way up to Lanling to see Jin Ling. One of the highest values for the Lan was family, and Lan Wangji understood the deep need his husband had for those connections – had encouraged it.

It was just as well Wei Wuxian had mastered the butterfly talisman (and enhanced it). Morning and night he would wait for the silvery wings to alight with Wei Wuxian’s messages of love and thought to whisper through his qi. Sometimes they were profound, poetry. Sometimes playful; sometimes just a kiss. Lan Wangji came to depend on those messages, and on being able to send some back himself: I love you, I miss you, come home soon.

He sighed. This morning had grown tedious. Today was the end of the accounting period for Clan matters, and while there was staff to manage the minutiae of bookkeeping, as Acting Clan Leader LanWangji was examining the records before tomorrow’s visit from the auditor. Not for the first time he lamented his brother’s seclusion, necessary though it was. Dealing with finances was the part of the role that least appealed to Lan Wangji; he felt a headache brewing and was contemplating taking a break when there was a knock on the door.

“Hanguang Jun, mail has arrived,” the disciple said, handing him a bundle.

“Thank you. Please ask the kitchen to send me some lunch,” he requested, taking the pile.

The disciple departed, and he began to sort the items: those about Clan matters, those for the Chief Cultivator. One letter stood out, a simple scroll tied with a red thread. Putting all the other mail aside he carefully opened the scroll and took a breath.

It was an ink painting of his eyes, creased ever so slightly in an expression of amusement. On his brow the forehead ribbon glinted silver, his hair loosely framing his cheeks. He instantly recognized the artist, tracing a finger over the brush strokes as if that touch could unite him with the hand that had made them.

“Wei Ying,” he said, infinite fondness filling him.

Throughout the rest of the day he kept the picture on his desk, glancing at it from time to time. And when it was time to turn his attention to other things, he gently placed the picture in his sleeve to take back to the jingshi.

Every couple of days another picture would arrive. This too became something Lan Wangji expected, an important and significant marker in his day, each picture a symbol that he was one day closer to seeing, holding, touching, tasting Wei Wuxian again.

***

300 years later

Clan Leader Lan Shuoxiao had come to the Forbidden Room in the Library Pavilion seeking a book she’d known had been here years earlier. Back then she’d been a mischievous girl seeking a way to prank Shufu, and she vividly remembered the green cover. Lan filing methods hadn’t changed in hundreds of years, so that wretched book had to be here somewhere.

She moved a pile of dusty scrolls, cursing under her breath when she knocked a stack of bamboo books which went tumbling over the floor. Patience, she told herself strictly. Breathe and control.

Feeling a little more composed, she bent to restore the mess to order. A red cover caught her eye on one of the lower shelves. She’d not seen that before, and she was sure she’d have recognized it if she had. It was quite distinct, a deep red, tied shut with of all things a Clan ribbon.

Intrigued, she opened the volume, carefully untying the ribbon and leafing through the pages. Page after page were pictures of a handsome man’s eyes: crinkled in delight, weeping with sorrow, dancing with affection, on and on they went. Sometimes the whole of the man’s lovely face was shown: in some he wore the elaborate silver coronet her ancestors had favored, in others his long tresses floated around his face, and the artist had clearly captured a treasured, private, and vulnerable moment.

Around half way through the volume the pictures changed: a spritely young man in black, his underrobe a vivid red (the same colour as the cover of the book, as it happened – and she wondered whether it was indeed cut from the same cloth), a red ribbon in his hair, holding a black dizi. This array of pictures had a different hand, a more understated eye which captured the young man’s energetic aura, as well as pensive moments – the youth had clearly been to hell and back, and Lan Shuoxiao could almost feel the immense love with which the person who’d drawn these pictures had made each stroke.

There were so many! Page sized varied: a compendium gathered together of odd scraps. The last page bore an inscription:

In loving memory of my parents, Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang Jun, and Wei Ying, Wei Wuxian, Yiling Laozu. The true faces of both, in their own hands. Love letters sent to dearest him who was, alas, away. Lan Yuan, Lan Sizhui, Chief Cultivator.

Clan Leader Lan Shuoxiao’s heart thumped wildly in her chest. Clan records declared Hanguang Jun’s partner’s name to have been Lan Ying, Lan Wuxian. How had they never made the connection before that “Lan Wuxian” was in fact the infamous Yiling Patriarch? Given that the two had Lan Yuan, Lan Sizhui’s name inscribed under theirs as offspring, Lan Shuoxiao and many others had assumed Lan Wuxian to be female.

She looked closely again at one of the pictures of the young man in black and red. He didn’t look like the evil dictator of legend. He looked mischievous and full of life, an impression caught in the laughing smile, and so… youthful.

Not that demonic cultivation was these days the issue it had been for her ancestors; these days cultivation was emphasized to be about harnessing the yin of negative energy and the yang of positive energy, holding them in balance and using each appropriately. She doubted the people who had so feared and hated the Yiling Patriarch would be able to recognize as righteous the way all cultivators now practiced as a matter of course.

As for Hanguang Jun… She flicked back to a picture in which his whole upper body had been captured as he played guqin, a study of someone completely caught up and focused on the music, almost in ecstasy. Another private moment revealing something about the essence of the man. He was so beautiful, captivating. And such a contrast from all the other images she’d ever seen of him. Hanguang Jun had a reputation even now, 150 years after he had Ascended, for being cold, somewhat forbidding, distant, just, merciful and benevolent, untouchable, unrivalled in almost all fields. That was how he appeared at the Gate of Gusu, carved of jade, opposite his brother, Zewu Jun, the famous Twin Jades of Gusu Lan now its guardians, their representations inscribed and infused with talismans and ward tethers. Rumor was that no evil could come to Cloud Recesses as long as the Twin Jades stood at the gates. How was anyone to reconcile that formidable image with this? This picture of a very human, vulnerable, gentle man, who was clearly so very much loved by the artist who drew him.

Lan Shuoxiao found herself on the edge of tears. It felt like an injustice, looking at these intimate sketches, that history had forgotten Wei Wuxian as little more than a footnote. And that the righteous Hanguang Jun had been immortalized as a stiff, cold and distant deity rather than someone’s beloved whose heart beat wildly in his chest in longing, and whose blood was warm and red and thrummed with reciprocated affection. She wondered how they had found one another, wondered about the history in which they must have been caught up: how did it affect them? What trials had they passed through before they finally found their way to each other’s arms?

She reverently closed the volume, her original mission in coming here put aside. Thoughtfully, she collected up the scrolls and bamboo books and reordered them, and then closed the Forbidden Room.

***

Several months later a new scene was depicted on the climbing path around the residences of Gusu: a beautiful, crowned Lan sat cross-legged in the back hill meadow, covered in a blanket of rabbits. His loving gaze was fixed on the figure opposite him under a peach tree in full bloom, who was standing and playing a dizi. The legend beneath read: Hanguang Jun and his cultivation partner Yiling Laozu, Lan Wuxian.

 FIN

[vasiktomis]

Pomegranate, Chapter 17: Quiet Earth, Part I.

John Seed x Female Deputy

Rating: Explicit.

Read it on Ao3 here!

Notes: Thanks all who have been keeping up with this! I'm so consistently floored by the amount of content creators we have in this fandom corner and the sheer level of workmanship that exists here. This is the first chapter of Pom that I'll be posting to tumblr, and I'm hoping to draw up a little sketch with each update. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Big thank you to @shallow-gravy and @consumedkings as always for dealing with my stupidity and being a pair of top-notch angels, and also just like, everybody who takes time out of their day to engage with this? Y'all really sticking with ultra slow burn and I swear after some wicked angst in the next couple of chapters I'll finally be able to throw some well-deserved smut at you. WARNINGS: Forced conversion, descriptions of dissociation and derealisation, explicit language, sexual content, depictions of violence, guns, blood and gore. Canon-typical debauchery.

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“Don’t touch him!”

Mary May lunged with enough force for John to feel the wake of air sweep through him, even with how quickly she was snatched up and yanked back to her place. The soles of her tennis shoes squeaked against the floor as she was dragged to the far side of the room, unable to be trusted with providing audience to Nick’s Atonement.

A shame, really. It was nicer as a shared experience.

The Baptist rolled his jaw, off-setting some of the tension arising from the shrieks that the blonde flung at the back of his head. He righted himself, taking the tattoo gun from one of his faithful with a gracious nod, and turned his attention down to the pilot currently pinned to the floor. Without a word, he sank to his knees, straddling the man, keeping silent as he could just to listen out for any change in his demeanour. Fear. Grief. Defeat. Acceptance. A sign to prove his readiness.

Nick didn't flinch, breathing hard through his nose and watching with hateful eyes. John hovered an indicating hand over the man’s bare chest, bruised from the fight he’d put up against his capture, mentally mapping out placement. Then, he came in with the needle, beginning with the stem of an ’E’, right in the centre of Nick's sternum.

The pilot snorted, masking discomfort with indifference, turning a wince into a scoff. “Figures you don’t use stencils. I ain’t got a hope in hell of this turning out good, do I.”

That casual old Nick attitude. He missed it.

If only he’d let him do this 5 years ago. He wouldn’t have had to miss it.

John feigned offense. “Oh I’m sorry, Nick. Did you want me to do the rest in cursive? Add a feather? Infinity symbol?”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Talk about tonal dissonance. It’s not meant to be pretty.” He grumbled. “Might’ve gotten a little more practice if you’d-”

A yell from the rear entryway pulled John’s hand away from his canvas. More squeaking. More interruption. Jerome Jeffries getting hauled into the church, held under each arm by the pair of Chosen that John had sent looking for him.

The Baptist cast a look over his shoulder at them, content with the sight of Jerome adequately beaten and bloodied. “Ahh. Pastor. Try to run and hide? It’s no wonder your flock ran astray with a shepherd so quick to leave them to the wolves.”

Jerome ignored him. No reply. No eye contact. A crime John noted to make worthy of capital punishment in the New Eden. The Pastor was set down beside Mary May, who immediately began seeing to his injuries. Murmuring bubbled between them.

“Did you reach them?” The bartender asked. Must’ve been a negative, because the next thing she did was curse.

“The Deputy was calling when they caught me.”

And if she had half the spine to come and broker an agreement for her friends, she’d be inbound.

“Could you at least gag them? I’m trying to concentrate.” John ordered no one in particular, earning another scoff from Nick. “The faster we work, the less we’ll have to get through once she arrives. The quicker we can be out of this heinous town.”

“Stay away from her, shitbag.” The pilot ground out, this time unable to save face when John retaliated, pressing the gun just a little too hard, digging down through an extra few layers of skin.

“Nick Rye, you’re a married man.” John tutted playfully, resuming his work. “That sin of yours again. Take, take, take. Didn’t think the Deputy to be your type. Wouldn’t say you’re hers, either.”

Nick looked downright disgusted at the prospect. Less concerned for the state of his wife - which meant she'd been a likely getaway. “Always been so fuckin’ jealous.”

“Come again?”

“Think folks are stupid? Think I don’t know you?”

“You don't know me, period.” John bit back, skin on the back of his neck flushing between boiling and freezing.

“Anyone else givin’ you this much trouble’d be long dead by now. That shit on the radio? Reckon you’d be talkin’ like that if your family could hear you across the river?” Nick continued, averting his gaze when John shot him a particularly poisonous look. He didn’t, however, find it necessary to respond to such a veiled accusation.

At least until -

“Everybody knows you wanna stick it to her, John-”

As if he’d been awaiting the chance, John’s free hand shot to Nick’s jaw, aching in protest when he squeezed, not stopping until he could feel the man’s molars beneath his flesh. “That’s about enough from you.” He crooned.

John had his desires, yes. He’d accepted that much. Had he not been sworn to celibacy, he might have jumped at the opportunity to respond to Cora’s advances last night. That said, she was still an outsider, and while her Atonement made the prospect less dicey, he couldn’t consciously consider laying with the woman in real life.

No matter how torturous it had become to gear his thoughts toward anything else.

He could be content with just her company, without making any further advances on her. Last night had simply been a moment of weakness, and he’d prevailed by stepping away.

“If you’ll excuse me.” John switched off the little machine once he’d completed his piece and promptly stood to beckon for replacement parts. Mary May might have gotten away with an allergic reaction last time he’d attempted this, but considering he’d be slicing it out of her within the hour, he couldn’t see any reason for her to be complaining. The bartender had been a thorn in his side from the start. While Nick and his wife had once lent John their...whatever a sinner’s closest equivalent was to friendship, Mary May had always been trouble. Wore her heart on her sleeve and trusted no one she hadn’t grown up around. Bolshie. Almost fucking killed him, once.

John busied himself with needle transfers and a pleasant expression. He could feel the woman’s eyes on him.

Did she think what Nick proclaimed? That complete and utter lie?

How fucking crass. No, he did not want to ’stick it’ to Cora. At least, as far as anyone else was concerned. He was fond of her, and - while yes, he had encountered temptation - if one disregarded the cum-stained, stolen panties in his pocket, and the conjured fantasies, and the purely incidental erection he’d maintained after the Deputy stuck her tongue down his throat last night - there was simply no evidence to suggest to anyone else that he was even remotely tempted to break the rules.

Sex was the furthest thing from his mind. It was mere coincidence that today had just so happened to fall on a morning in which he’d needed to trim.

…

If, however, she were to decide that she wanted to continue what she’d attempted last night, then surely he couldn’t be to blame if he only failed to stop her. It wasn’t technically fornication if he didn’t initiate it. Nor was it considered intercourse if -

“Brother John.”

John jumped, heart stopping, whipping his head around to the Chosen standing at the door of the church.

“What?" He asked thickly.

“The Deputy’s arrived.”

Right on cue, the crackling of gunshots drifted in alongside the Chosen’s announcement.

“Tell everyone to hold their fire.” John ordered. “We have them outnumbered tenfold. The Deputy can’t be stupid enough to create a hostage situation. Direct her here, and peacefully.”

The Chosen’s throat bobbed, swallowing back outrage, and John squinted hard at him, trying to dispel the flicker of green light in the mist outside as it settled against the man’s temple.

“John, I don’t think-”

He never got a chance to act on that incoming insubordination.

Instead, he jerked, cut off by a sickening crack as a section of his skull blew out of his head. Red mist and liquified brain matter followed, splattering against the doorframe, and the Chosen slumped lifeless onto the front step.

John wasn’t so much shaken by the killing as he was irritated by everyone else’s apparent refusal to let today go according to plan. Maybe also the pile of brains and hair now sitting on his once-pristine red carpet. He’d made this easy for the woman: kill everyone he could round up, leave her with no one to claim duty to, and get this all over and done with. Have her home by mid-afternoon. Embark on a new chapter and achieve salvation. It was that simple.

Woe to him for trusting in her common sense.

“Fuck’s sake. Wrath begets more wrath.” He muttered, smoothing a hand over his chin. He didn’t have the patience for this any longer. “Fine. Sister -”

A woman stood from the pews as soon as John made eye contact, equally as unshaken by the scene mere feet away.

“Send out word: the Deputy wants to sacrifice her friends for the sake of a fight.” John punctuated the end of his sentence with a click as he returned his focus to jamming the needles into his tattoo gun. “Give her what she wants. Take her by force.”

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The smokescreen was beginning to clear, but despite the weight it was taking off her lungs, Cora would’ve preferred it remain just a little longer. At least until they’d cleared out the town. Had they been quicker, it might have lasted longer. Covered their approach to Fall���s End. Given them more cover to sneak about unseen.

The streets, while still hazy, were visible now. It wasn’t a difficult task watching Peggie silhouettes run from building to building in search of her team. Resistance members and civilians were either in the process of being rounded up, or littered the road and pavement, dead. The Ryes, Mary May, and Pastor Jerome were yet to be seen amongst either group.

Same went for Boomer.

Aside from the barking of orders from Chosen and faithful, there was little sound. Knowing how much of a fuss her dog had put up the last time he’d been caught by the Project struck Cora’s nerves. He was his own alarm, and he would not go peacefully.

Not hearing him was an indication of the worst.

Some part of her brain argued against the idea. Vouching that John wouldn’t have hurt the creature. That was her dog. He had to be an exception to the massacre, no matter how vicious he behaved.

She had to find him, and creeping through the rear entry of the Spread Eagle was the first point of call.

Luckily enough, the back door had yet to be boarded up. Peggies who rushed past covered windows hardly stopped to peek inside the place for fear of being tainted by the presence of alcohol. Sneaking in was simple enough, too, at least once Jess had picked the lock.

“I’m going to pretend that door was open.” The Deputy murmured her equivalent to praise, passing into the building.

Grace headed straight in after her, taking a left to search for any sign of Mary May while she took a right toward the stairs.

“You pretend the Cook’s head was already gone when we found him?” Jess whispered.

“Freak accident. You all saw it.”

“First floor’s clear.” Grace announced from the serving hatch in the kitchen, clearly unhappy about it.

“Right.” Cora acknowledged, “I’ll check up top.”

The second story was as dead-quiet as the first. Furniture had been knocked over in the hallway and bedrooms had been raided. None of it indicated anything good, but she still had to know.

Cora pushed open the door to her room, and while she held no expectation of what she’d find, her heart sank anyway.

It was empty.

Boomer was gone.

Only his makeshift collar and a tattered bandana remained atop the rug he’d been snoozing on that morning.

Her dog.

John had either taken him or killed him, just like the rest. He’d do the same to the rest of her team. She should’ve taken the Baptist’s offer before the latter had even become a possibility.

“No sign?” Grace affirmed once the Deputy slipped back down to the first floor. “My guess is either they’re in hiding, or John’s giving them special treatment. If they were dead he’d be parading them.”

Sharky and Hurk exchanged a frown when Cora offered only a nod, notably more meek than usual.

“Was he in there, darlin’?” Adelaide asked, a little too gently not to invite a sting to her eyes.

Cora felt her jaw clench. It was a different breed of nausea, trying to keep her composure under the scrutiny of the rest of the team. She managed to shake her head, and Adelaide’s hand found her shoulder.

“Could still be with the others, yet.” The woman offered.

“So how do we find them?” Jess asked.

Find John Seed, of course.

“Finding them’s one thing. Getting to them might be the harder part.” Cora began. “The smokescreen’s only getting thinner and there’s Peggies everywhere. It's grasslands from here to the hills. No way we can herd everyone across a field on-foot, safely. We’ve got to make sure they stay freed, first.”

“And?” Jess huffed. “We’re gonna kill some Peggies, right?”

The blonde considered that.

“We split up. Search the buildings for anyone who hasn’t been caught yet. Round them up and plant explosives as we go. With enough chaos, maybe we can have a shot at turning the tide in the short term.”

Sharky was practically trembling. “Explosives, like, everywhere?”

“Everywhere. The more damage, the better.” Cora replied. “Adelaide, Xander, pair up. Sharky and Hurk, same with you.”

“And us on range?” Jess grinned, trading a look with Grace who maintained absolute stoicism. “I’m so into that.”

“No.”

…

“Say what?”

“No more ranged attacks. I need you and Grace to head back to the van -”

Jess was advancing on her before she’d even finished her sentence.

“You’re pulling me outta the fight? The fuck gives?” The huntress loomed over the Deputy, incredulous. Cora made an effort to stay put, but Jess’s insistence managed to outweigh her stubbornness, forcing the blonde to compromise by leaning as far back as she could without falling.

“We can’t keep running on short-term wins.” Cora insisted. “We have to put our foot down. No more small assaults. No more hoping John gets demoralised enough that he hands himself over.”

Sharky frowned. “What’re you saying?”

She met his gaze, puffing out her chest, retaking her space. “I’m saying the Henbane Bridge is unmanned right now. If we get word to the County Jail, there’s no roadblock to stop them from helping us win this. John Seed’s throwing everything he can at us. I say we try for the same. I say we end it for good. We’re gonna take back Holland Valley. Today.”

“...You really like that dog, huh.”

“That too.”

Jess looked unconvinced. “So the two of us are running errands while the rest of you are holding the fort? Fucking bullshit.”

“I told you. No more range.” Cora bit back, jabbing a thumb toward Hurk and Sharky. “You’d rather send Boshaws and Drubmans to convince Tracey to send us her best people? No offence.”

“None taken, bitch.” Adelaide grumbled.

Grace exhaled, throwing away momentary hesitation. “We’ll be fast.”

Cora traded a nod with the sniper before looking to Jess once more.

Still unconvinced.

“They have cars with guns on them, remember?”

The corner of Jess’s mouth ticked. Temptation.

Mission accomplished.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The tacky fucking carpet was the first thing she noticed, creeping along Main Street. Bliss petals had been sprinkled all over the road leading up to the church.

The carpet ended at the door. An invitation if she ever saw one. Boastful. Arrogant.

A pang of dread ached through Cora's bones, holding her in place while she drew her revolver. It could be an ambush. It probably was an ambush, but there was nothing she could feasibly do to avoid it. If the others were in there, then she couldn't wait around any longer.

She had to do this. At least hold out until Jess and Grace returned, with or without help.

She'd been running for long enough. All other options had been exhausted. At least John offered the least awful defeat.

Drawing close to the entrance, the Deputy pointedly avoided examining a dead crow that had been impaled upon the wall. She inhaled, holding the breath in her lungs, steadying her heart rate.

It was only freedom.

She opened the door, immediately training the gun out before her, following its guide into the room.

About a dozen Peggies dotted the space, leaning against walls, lining the pews - all angled at the pulpit, observing Nick on the floor. He stifled a cry while John sliced through the final remaining layers of skin binding the tattoo to his chest, peeling the word 'GREED' out of his flesh. Blood pooled on the floor around them, and the moment John had stepped away, the pilot was descended on with antiseptic and bandages.

The Deputy waited for nausea at the sight to take its course. It never did. She was all but numbed to the sight.

"Deputy, run!"

Mary May's voice cut through the silence, and the bartender lurched from her own spot on the ground. Guns raised all around the room, swinging around to aim for Cora.

”Hold!” John barked immediately, unconcerned when the Deputy shifted her aim to him. Instead, he busied himself with washing his sullied hands. “Hold your fire.”

His followers obeyed.

Cora, meanwhile, cocked the revolver in her grip. One foot edged into the room, and she glanced around for the Project’s captives before returning her gaze to John. All on the other side of the room. Pinned. Fuck.

“Hope County Sheriff’s Department.” She announced, staring the Baptist down, ignoring the grin that crept onto his face - like he found it fucking funny. “Weapons on the ground. Step away from the hostages.”

“Hostages?” John snorted. He gestured Pastor Jerome, Mary May, and Nick. “These are guests! This is their Atonement. This is your Atonement.”

“Drop the fucking weapons.”

John’s patience thinned. Quickly. “I’m not doing this with you.” He replied simply. “Not today.”

With his own look around the room, John inclined his head. An unspoken order to which everyone carrying a gun turned them on her allies.

“We both know you don’t have enough bullets for everyone. Nor do you have the time. So why don’t you put down my gun and surrender.”

“Don’t-” Mary May was cut off with the tap of steel against her temple. Warning.

John was right. She was outnumbered. There was no chance of getting any of them out with force alone.

She inhaled. Exhaled. Watched the fondness slip back onto John’s face like it had never left, and set the gun on the floor.

“That’s my girl.” John murmured. Then, he motioned. “Get her ready.”

Cora’s stomach dropped as two sets of arms coiled around hers, each pulling and pushing, prickling at her skin with unfamiliar, sickening touch. Biology told her to resist. Escape the sensation. The downward pulling.

“No, stop it.” Escaped her while she squirmed. “Get off. Stop touching me-”

“Her friends can’t be far. Find them.” The Baptist ordered, turning away toward the pulpit.

Cora’s knees hit the floor. There was no holding the repetition of protests, but even as she consciously elevated the volume of her voice, it grew quieter in her ears. Calculated attempts to jerk away and make an escape became automatic twitches.

One of John’s followers - a female - crept into view, fingers tugging at the top button on her uniform collar. John readied a tattoo gun over the woman’s shoulder, and the Deputy’s mind screamed alarm bells. Get out. Escape. Fight back. Regain control.

“I won’t hurt you, sister.”

This time, she sank, curling forward, angling herself away from the woman. Another attempt, and she wrenched away again, snarling. Then, the Peggies around her must have gotten tired of all the fuss, because the tear of cotton clawed at her ears. Ringing through her brain.

Her back felt cold all of a sudden.

Green material slipped down her arms, and at the sight of her own uniform pooling in shreds in her own lap, Cora ceased her thrashing. The shredded shirt was yanked from her belt and tossed aside, and she watched with growing resignation while John turned back around.

His gaze found hers. Then flickered downward, first to the compression bra, then a margin to the right. “Here I thought you’d be unmarked.” He commented, inspecting what was visible of the old ink on her lower ribs while he approached.

Hands pressed against Cora’s shoulders, and she drifted back until her shoulder blades hit the floor.

John continued to loom until he stood directly over her. He sank to his knees, expression softening with his descent until he was on all fours on top of her. He looked almost adoring, and she hated how it comforted her, just slightly. She hated how the hands had disappeared from her limbs, and yet she still made no further attempt to escape. He had every ounce of power now.

She didn’t know she’d started trembling until his free hand swept over her collarbones, mapping out her chest, calming the gooseflesh beading on her from the chill, or the fright, or perhaps just that this whole thing felt so humiliatingly exposing.

A blush swelled over John’s throat, maybe indicating some straying line of thought. He snapped out of it and settled to sit on her hips. “This looks familiar, doesn’t it?” He teased, hovering the tattoo gun right over the centre of her sternum.

“Dont.” Was all she could manage. Weak. Pleading. “I don’t want you to.”

“You have no idea how good you’re going to feel after this.” John cooed.

One of his fingers drifted along her jaw. An attempt at comforting her, but to no avail. He looked equal parts gentle and feral with excitement.

The machine buzzed, lowering pitch when the needles finally pressed into her flesh.

This was it.

She’d lost. There was no going back, anymore. No more normal, no more ridding herself of this family. They’d taken everything, and now they were claiming ownership over her, too.

The others were being hunted. It was only a matter of time. John was working too quickly. They’d be gone before the Cougars even crossed the river.

Cora’s nerves muted. Sound closed to just the rumble of blood in her ears. She receded into herself. Found a backseat in her mind, away from the sensory overload and the humiliation and her own failure while her body quietly continued: ”Dont, don’t, stop.”

She’d lost, and John wouldn’t stop. Not while he was branding the evidence of his victory into her flesh.

Defeat tasted worse than anticipated.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bullets whizzed overhead while Sharky and Hurk took cover beneath the window, watching helplessly as the aisle of potato chips and bar nuts was torn to shreds by the onslaught. Dorito dust filled the shop like mustard gas.

“Cuz, I think they found us!” Hurk barked, snapping an arm over his head in defence when a stray round ricocheted off the front counter.

“What gives you that impression?” Sharky hit back, hurriedly setting down his shotgun and shrugging his backpack to the floor.

“How many are there?”

“How about you check?”

“How about you check?”

A moment of quiet occurred while the cousins glared at each other, leaving their standoff to a battle of no blinking. Then the Peggies outside must’ve finished re-loading, because the back wall of the shop was suddenly being shot into swiss cheese.

They were okay. Everything was cool. Addie and Xander had taken their share of explosives and gone the quiet route. Grace and Jess were gone. Shorty had disappeared into the church, and while he couldn't count the best, Sharky was pretty confident that John had caught her.

Could they have kept on looking for survivors and breaking out captives? Sure - but why do that when they could kill, like 40 birds with one stone and beeline for the gas station? It was conveniently across the road from the church, empty of any and all life barring the dormant tanks underground. An explosion that big was sure to fuck up like a good portion of Main Street. Not even the Chosen would be able to resist checking it out.

Disconnecting the safety switches had been easy. He’d been arrested for doing it like 5 times already. Cops, Peggies; it didn’t matter - Sharky knew what he was doing, and without the giant swinging dick of the law hanging over him, the man was on a mission. Cultists shooting at him was fine. He was used to that.

Threat of death or no, he wasn’t giving up the chance to see this place blow sky high.

“We’ll be outta here any second, Hurky.” Sharky assured. “Just gotta sprinkle a little C-4 around the place and we’ll be gone before it even goes off.”

Hurk was sweating. A lot. He was accustomed to being shot at, but normally, he had more than just Sharky to get him out of a tight spot. “Alright, bro. Gimme some. Many hands and what have you.”

“Fuck yeah. First step, toss some at the tanker outside. We wanna get the place as fiery as possible up here to wake up the big boys underground, and-”

Sharky stopped in his tracks, eyeing the backpack he’d just been in the process of unzipping.

“-uhh.”

“Uhh?”

“Hurky, can I be real with you?”

“Is now the best time for a deep and meaningful?” Hurk hissed, crawling toward him nonetheless.

The arsonist stuck his hand down the pack, rifling through fluff and mesh. “I, uh, I think I brought the wrong bag. And by think I mean know without a shadow of a doubt.”

Hurk watched as his cousin tugged the green, furry headpiece of a dragon out into the open.

“You brought-...”

“I brought my fursuit.”

“Not the C-4?”

“Not the C-4.”

“Okay, bro. That's fine. I'm not mad. Human error. Not even a little bit?”

Sharky checked again, just for good measure. “Nope...so, uhm...you got a match?”

Hurk ran a hank through his hair. “Not to poo poo your ideas, but that probably ain’t the best move.”

So just like that, they were fucked.

Jess and Grace still hadn’t come back. The others were nowhere to be seen. Shorty was holed up in that church, and he and Hurk were about to be rounded up by born-again virgins.

Shit, if that were the case -

“Well, if this is gonna be the last opportunity.” Sharky grunted, tugging the suit out and unzipping the back. “May as well enjoy our last minutes of freedom, huh?”

Hurk took the cue, creeping across the destroyed shop floor and reaching for a popped bag of pretzels. He sat back against the wall, leaning against the rocket launcher he’d propped up against the corner.

“Man.” The brunette sighed, staring at the floor. “If only we had some other kind of ranged, explosive device.”

“No shit.” Sharky agreed. “Some high velocity shit would fix this.”

They exchanged a sympathetic look once the arsonist had zipped himself up and crept over and sit beside his cousin, both leaning on either side of the RPG.

Hurk held out the bag.

“Pretzel?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Was that so bad?” John asked, placing the tattoo gun aside and framing the Deputy’s marked chest. ’WRATH', in true black, beading with blood. The skin surrounding the text was mottled and inflamed. Excess ink covered the area in patches, gathering in the dip of her cleavage, disappearing beneath her sports bra.

All that sin, already leaking out through the exit he’d made for her.

Gorgeous.

Cora didn’t respond. That was fine. Shock was normal. She’d thank him once this was all over. For now, she just trembled, lock jawed, dissociated gaze searching what John had thought was him until he sat up. No, instead she was watching the ceiling.

John flashed a smile, blocking out a tiny streak of dread at the sight of the woman so vacant. Sweeping a lock of stained hair over her shoulder, he smoothed his fingers past her neck, attempting to gently angle her focus back to him. “Hey. You can come back now. We’re all done.”

You're finally on the other side. React to it. React to me. Look at me-

The boom came first, hollow and deep, and John felt the floor beneath him rumble. Chandeliers and decorations wobbled from the disturbance. Several of his followers shot from their seats, immediately abandoning the Resistance leaders they’d guarded in favour of pacing back and forth, trying to get a look at whatever was happening outside.

“Is this it?”

“Is it the Collapse?”

“It’s time?”

“John, is it the Collapse?”

The panic escalated quickly, forcing the Baptist to break his attention away from the empty woman below him and rein in the flock.

“Calm down.” He exclaimed, “It’s not the Collapse. It’s probably just-”

Another boom. Almost deafeningly loud.

This time, the whole church shook. Windows shattered in their creaking panes and smashed to the floor while pews squealed heavily in protest.

Contrary to his assertion, John dove down, covering the Deputy with his body. Holy shit, was it the Collapse?

The tremor must have been enough to snap Cora out of her trance, because a muffled “Get your tits out of my face.” buzzed against John’s chest.

Tragically, however, the Baptist never got the opportunity to reply to her. Had it not been for the fucking tennis shoe colliding with the side of his skull, he imagined he’d have something very clever to say. Alas, pain shot through his head and he jerked to the side, fighting against the blow to stay put. A snarl from Mary May, his apparent attacker, sounded in retaliation. She dove into him, knee driving into his ribs, throwing him off of the Deputy.

His thoughts left him for the briefest moment, overtaken by ensuing gunshots and shouts and the shrieks of the bartender as she was clawed away from him. Her hand shot forward right as she was yanked up, intended as a punch. It didn’t land, and John couldn’t help but shoot her a smirk for her failure.

“Deputy, gun!”

Nevermind. It wasn’t a punch after all. Mary May had been pointing over his shoulder at the revolver that had been surrendered on the floor. His revolver. The same one Cora was now scrambling toward.

No.

John lurched, heart leaping into his throat.

Not now. Not after he’d won. Not when they were so close.

His hand found the leg of Cora’s pants, wrenching, pulling her away from the weapon, and she kicked against him. Her finger tips slid against the barrel of the revolver, tugging it into her palm.

God wouldn’t fucking undo his victory.

John snarled, catching the Deputy’s wrist when she tried to aim - at him no less. Without her own recovery time achieved, he was able to wrestle the weapon from her easily enough, flattening her struggling body beneath his just long enough to hook an arm around her waist. He twisted around, holding the woman’s back against his belly. Her squirming ceased with the press of the muzzle against her head, and the moment her allies had taken notice of the change, everything went still.

Finally.

A little civility.

Several of John’s followers lay on the floor, either dead or close to it. Only a half-dozen remained, though the pair of Chosen had survived and placed themselves closest to their leader.

Pastor Jerome had procured a handgun from within his own bible - something that pulled a breathless laugh out of John as he surveyed the others. Nick hadn’t been able to arm himself, but he’d still tackled one of the faithful to the ground. His knuckles were bloodied. A familiar sight. Mary May had wrestled a gun of her own away from the woman who’d seized her. She aimed it shakily at John.

Armed but outnumbered, outgunned, and now, they were in check.

They never learned, did they?

“The way you people behave, you’d think salvation was a bad thing.” John tittered. “Right. Now, let’s try this again. Atonement, or damnation.” To punctuate his meaning, he tapped the muzzle against Cora’s head. She grunted in protest, and he ignored her. Of course it was a bluff. No one else knew that but him, though. It was too risky a move for the Resistance to let him do away with the one person that banded their factions.

She was their leader. They couldn’t lose her.

John looked around the room once more, locking eyes with Jerome first - then Mary May. “Are we going to behave?”

The answer was immediate and clear: a gunshot cracking through the Baptist’s ears and the flash of a blast spilling from Mary May’s weapon. Cora’s elbow driving into his stomach and the reaction time of his Chosen snapping to attention, covering him, already hauling John out of the church and onto the street.

Fuck no, he wasn't leaving without his prize.

"GRAB HER!" John howled, struggling against the attempts to get him to safety. "Leave the rest!"

It was a reluctant effort, but the Deputy was yanked along as well, shoved into Johns arms on his repeated orders, with me, with me.

“Mary May, what the fuck!” The Deputy roared over her shoulder.

“Sorry Deputy! I missed!”

Missed?

“You sure about that? Jesus fucking Christ!”

More shots sounded, but only the noise pursued them from the building. It wasn’t until John had shoved Cora into the back of the waiting truck that he realised how warm his hand had gotten. Wet, too.

“Get to the ranch!” One of the Chosen snarled up front, casting a look back at the Baptist while the vehicle took off, watching as he peeled away from the blonde to inspect himself.

Blood.

He was bleeding. But where from? Barring the sting of his scabs and that kick to the head, nothing hurt. There were no wounds hiding under his sleeves or -

A hiss sounded from the Deputy beside him, curling in on herself.

Shit.

She hadn’t elbowed him.

“Cora-” John scrambled for her. "Cora, let me see."

“Told you not to call me that.” The Deputy grit out, kicking at him until she’d well and truly jammed herself into the corner of the seat and the car door. Her left hand gripped her right forearm, just below the elbow and to no avail. Crimson coated the skin on her side, encasing her arm completely and seeping through her fingertips.

She was bleeding. Not heavily, but steadily.

”Deputy.” John bit back, advancing. “You’re hurt. Let me help-”

Just like that, the kicking resumed. “Don’t touch me-DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME-”

“For once in your fucking life, just relax!”

Only incomprehensible snarling came in response.

John rolled his jaw, brimming with as much irritation as he was adrenaline. The Resistance had made their choice. Regretful, but final. He’d gotten what he came for, and he wasn’t intending on losing her just because she was too stubborn to accept help.

He glanced at the revolver still in his grip. Then back at Cora, rotating the grip toward her. A threat. “Are you going to let me help, or am I going to have to calm you down?”

“Don’t you dare.” Her words came hoarse. She gave scowling a red hot go, but without the rationale to deny him, the Deputy lacked conviction. She exhaled. “Fuck it. We've done this enough already. You get ten minutes. Then you’re under arrest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her cheek twitched. A weak chuckle. The slightest flash of acknowledgement as she let him press his weight over her forearm. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t pulsing; nor was there a puncture wound. A gouged strip had been carved into her flesh where the bullet had grazed, but nothing vital seemed to have been struck.

“That - you can keep saying.”

"You're a flirt when you're in shock, Deputy." Had John not been too busy regulating about a dozen other emotions, he might have flushed at her words. For a moment, he just sat there, basking in the borderline friendliness on her face. Then, it occurred to him that they were among watchful company, and he cleared his throat, returning to his task.

Minutes passed. No more words were exchanged. Not until they’d passed the Rye and Son’s sign.

The Chosen in the front passenger’s seat looked over his shoulder, dismissing another over the radio before regarding the Baptist. “The Resistance isn’t making ground. The faithful are still rounding up stragglers, and we’ve taken casualties, but numbers are looking strong. Medic will meet you at the ranch, John. We can deliver our newest sister to the Gate while you recover.”

John inclined his head. “Much obliged. We need this one to stay with us until she’s completed her vows. She can’t be trusted unsupervised, but I won’t put the responsibility of containing her back on our people again.” He looked to Cora, then. Her face had run pale and she’d gone clammy, but she remained upright. Just...woozy. Pacified, for now.

He’d got what he came for. Fuck the rest.

“I have something to say.” The blonde announced, swaying against John’s arm. “I know why Mary May shot me.”

“This another one of your jokes?” John deadpanned.

“This one’s funny, I swear.”

“...go on, then.”

“It’s because I never tip.”

For a moment, Cora looked very satisfied with herself. Then, she retched, slumping forward into the Baptist’s lap when he instinctually jolted out of the potential line of fire. He hurried to steady her, keeping tight hold over her wound, and grimaced while the noise escaped her a second time.

Thank God nothing came out; his shoes would’ve been the first to know about it.

The Deputy didn’t sit back up.

That was fine. So long as she wasn’t dead. So long as she wasn’t fighting back.

“It’s all the sin escaping you.” John explained, off-handed, when a complaining grunt sounded below. “Evil being expelled from your body. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Pretty sure it’s my blood pressure, actually. Soon as I’m good again, you’re history.”

When one disregarded the fact that she’d had a gun trained on him earlier - and the blood drying uncomfortably on his clothes - and the persistent pounding of a headache from Mary May’s heel, this was almost pleasant. The quiet roads. The Deputy, all but atoned with her head on his thigh. Not fighting back. Conceding defeat. Peaceful.

He got what he came for.

He’d won.

He was saved.

Passing his thumb over Cora’s ribs, John’s attention was pulled back to the old ink peeking out from beneath the band of her top. Text, blurred and flattened enough to be years old, and too obscured to decipher.

“Thought I’d be your first.” The brunette murmured.

“Jealous?”

Yes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. What’s it say?”

“‘The Mountains Are Calling’.”

A sickening wave of dread passed over the Baptist. The rock forming in his throat, icy and bitter and seizing him against any reply.

The mountains are calling.

Jacob. Joseph. The Trials. Atonement wasn’t the final step. Handing her over to his brothers was the final step.

He got what he came for, but the woman in his arms wasn’t the trophy intended for him.

He was saved. He’d redeemed himself. He’d completed his task and Joseph would permit him beyond the gates. That was all he was supposed to do. That was enough.

That had to be enough.

“‘And I Must Go’.” John completed quietly.

Cora tilted her head a little, not quite looking at him - almost like she was trying not to. “You know John Muir.”

“Not enough to warrant a photo on the bedside table.”

“Shut up.”

There was nothing convincing about the chuckle he offered. He was too busy observing her, studying the side of her face. Committing her to memory as if he hadn’t spent years acquainting himself with every spot and micro-expression.

“Maybe working for you will be bearable.” She murmured, and John’s heart only sank further. "If I don't manage to arrest you."

The mountains are calling.

She still had no idea that all the promises he’d made her had been fabricated. That she wouldn’t be staying. That he’d lied to her.

The mountains were calling. In a few days time, she’d know it. She’d despise him. She’d be taken off his hands and he’d assume his regular duties once again.

He’d saved both of them.

Cora’s thumb absently grazed back and forth on his knee. Ignorant. “Can I ask something?”

It took everything in him not to mirror the action against her skin.

“Of course.”

“Can I start next Monday?”

"What happened to you being such a workaholic?"

"To be honest with you, I'm really fucking tired."

She’d be incredible. Jacob would love her. Joseph would be proud. John had accomplished something near-impossible for his family, and even if the Deputy hated him - even if she forgot him entirely, he was content with the knowledge that he’d have brought her to salvation.

Even if they never saw each other again, he’d know that she’d passed through the gates. That she’d climb to the surface once the world had been scorched clean. She’d rebuild, and marry, and have children, and he’d do the same.

Hopeful anticipation and the agony of longing had never felt so similar before.

“Fine.” John smiled, giving in, sliding his fingers up her arm and coaxing a stray lock of hair out of her face. There were no promises he’d be able to do it again after this. “But on one condition.”

“What?”

“Spend those days with me.”

Cora stirred, angling to peer up at him out of the corner of her eye. She smiled crookedly.

“Deal.”

[yetanotherhoeforpedro]

Sinfully Armored

Chapter 4 - The spirits that haunt us 

Chapter 3

TW: SMUT, canon-typical violence

Your eyes adjusted to the bright lights so slowly that you had to rely on your other senses. Apparently, you were lying on an even metal surface, judging from the cold hard material you felt underneath your – exposed back? Yes, you seemed to be naked from the waist up. As you focused on the rest of your body, you noted with surprise that the pain in your ribs had subsided. The air smelled slightly of ethanol; you definitely weren’t on Kashyyyk anymore. Shit, had you been abducted by the Empire?

Finally, your eyesight returned to you and you looked around, careful not to move your head too conspicuously, lest whoever had brought you here would notice you. You relaxed immediately as you took in the familiar view of your ship, though it didn’t lessen your irritation. How did you get back here?

You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at your ribs. The sudden movement made you feel a little dizzy, so you carefully laid back down again and peeked at your ribcage. Someone seemed to have tended to your wounds as a beige bandage was wrapped around them, still leaving your breasts exposed, and they really didn’t hurt anymore. You slowly stretched your hand out to your ribs and dug your fingers in to test your pain tolerance. Nothing. There had to be some sort of painkiller involved…How long had you been out? What about Grogu? The Wookie youngling?

You sat back up in a quick movement that your head didn’t appreciate in the least. “Careful,” a modulated voice said and your head snapped to the direction of it, resulting in another sharp headache.

But there was the Mandalorian, standing at the other end of the space. You were too stunned to react to his presence in any way. Why was he here? He should have hated you, what did he care if you were being careful or not? Fuck, how you despised yourself. You averted his glance out of pure guilt. You broke his trust, you let them take his child. You were too weak to save him, why did Luke ever send you on this mission?

“What…what happened?” you asked finally and noticed how raw your throat felt. “You passed out on the beach, so I took you back here and…,” he paused and his visor dipped down a bit, allowing him a better look at your rib. You were suddenly all too aware of your exposed breasts, but didn’t want to show your discomfort by moving to cover them up. He shook his head quickly. “So, I– I– fixed your…ribs.” You heard him swallow loudly as he brought his helmet back up to your face. “For a moment I thought– I thought I had los…”, he added, but stopped himself from saying whatever he was going to. You looked at him curiously. “I’m sorry,” he said instead.

You grew even more irritated at that. “You are sorry? I am the one who fucked up, Mando,” you replied faintly, breaking the possible eye contact with him again. “I am so sorry, it’s all my fault. If I had been quicker…,” you went on and let your voice trail off.

“None of this is your fault,” he responded firmly and took a few steps towards you. “I was…being a dick, and I am sorry for it. I– I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I know you would never have let them get him if you had had another choice, I was just – he – he’s all I have left.” Some small part of your heart broke at that confession.

“You had every right to snap at me,” you answered with conviction. “Please, don’t be so kind to me…I don’t deserve that.” You heard him tread even closer to you and this time, he didn’t stop until he was right next to you. He uttered your name softly and at that, your head turned back to him. Two leather gloves cupped your cheeks gently, forcing you to hold his stare.

“You – you deserve nothing but kindness from me,” he whispered and let one of his hands trail across your cheekbones in a featherlight touch. The simple touch sent goosebumps across your entire body. “I – I have been…awfully unkind to you,” he admitted quietly.

“What’s with the change of heart now?” you attempted to lighten the situation and relieve yourself of some of the electric current humming through you, but failed miserably. “I…when you were…on that…beach…completely motionless…” The movements of his hand stilled for a second. You knew this was as vulnerable as he would make himself, so you simply placed your hand on top of his in silent affirmation.

“Mando…I…,” you began, but he silenced you by putting his index finger on your mouth. “Stop guilting yourself,” he said intently and his other hand began to softly move across your cheek again. “We will get him back.”

“How?” you asked, your voice breaking. You could not bear his kindness anymore; it was just too much. Mando’s fingers started to gingerly run across your neck and all of your thoughts and worries left your mind for a second as you registered the movement. “After you…um...I installed a tracking fob on the imperial ship”, he explained absentmindedly. His focus seemed to be entirely on his fingers, which began to explore your collar bone. You shivered at the intimacy of the touch. His hand began to dip even lower, hovering at the swell of your heaving breasts.

“Do you want me to stop?” His words were merely a breath and you could only shake your head, as you were at a complete loss for words. He let out a relieved sigh at you giving him your consent and his hand moved a little lower until he was softly cupping your breast. You lost yourself completely in his touch and let out a soft moan. “Fuck,” he exclaimed. “Do you realize how…agonizing it has been for me to see you with your tits out all this time while I couldn’t…couldn’t touch you?” He gave your boob a little squeeze to support his words and at that, you let out a louder moan. “You can always touch me,” you admitted breathlessly and he groaned in response. He removed his other hand from yours and moved it down to cup your other breast.

Taking all the time in the world, he tested out the weight of your breasts in his hands and began to slowly knead them while the aching between your legs grew worse. “Mando…please,” you begged him.

“Now, now. I expected you Jedi to have a little more patience,” he responded while continuing to caress your tits. Fuck, he knew he was taunting you and he was enjoying it. There would be time for some payback later.

One of his leathered gloves left your breast and started to draw lazy circles across your back. As his hand moved down further only to brush across the sensitive curve of your spine, you arched into the touch of his other hand even more. He groaned softly.

Without a warning, he removed his hands from you entirely, but he held a hand up before you could bark out in protest. He deliberately removed his gloves, exposing his bare skin for the first time. His hands were beautiful, the veins standing out a bit against his skin, which was tan – despite not having seen sunlight in the Maker knows how long – and calloused. With one quick movement, Mando span you around on the makeshift bed so that your legs were dangling over the edge and you were fully facing him. You let out a surprised gasp.

His next advances seemed almost hesitant after this impulsive action. He slowly spread your legs apart with his hands and positioned himself between them. The proximity of him made your heart accelerate to an unprecedented speed. Your head dipped down almost instinctively and your throat went dry as you took in the bulge in his pants. His bare hand cupped your chin and made you look up at him again. “Let me touch you first,” he said hoarsely and you nodded, not able to deny him anything.

His fingers were unexpectedly smooth and warm as they began to explore your body again. Each of his touches made you soak your pants more and more, but he wasn’t ready to give you what you desired just yet. He reveled in every skin-to-skin touch as if he’d never get to experience it again. The gentleness of his touch when he brushed your bandages made your heart swell with affection that you quickly repressed. This was purely sexual, wasn’t it?

The Mandalorian pushed a strand of your hair back from your face, halting his worshipping of your body. “You are…absolutely gorgeous,” he said while looking you up and down, his voice betraying his vulnerability. You swallowed. Apparently, this was not merely physical. Mando made a move to touch you again, but you grabbed his arm before he could. “Look,” you inducted, “I – I can’t do this. Not – not if it’s…more than sex.”

He didn’t respond for a while, the two of you frozen in this awkward position. “Who said it was more?” he retorted finally, with such nonchalance that you thought you had imagined the gentle affection in his voice earlier. “Okay, great,” you lied. You didn’t want this to be more than a physical thing, did you? So, why were you so disappointed that he felt the same way? Didn’t that make you a hypocrite?

“Do – do you want to continue?” he broke the awkward silence that had formed between you. Yes, more than anything. But could you risk it? What if you got too attached? Never in your life had you damned your Jedi existence and your past more than in this very moment. But even if you wanted to, you couldn’t turn away from it. Being a Jedi was your life and you wouldn’t give it up for something as trivial as sex…Or would you?    

“I…I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” Mando said, no hint of any emotion in his voice and ended your brooding silence. When you didn’t reply, he simply picked up his gloves and left without another word.

“Fuck,” you whispered with exasperation. He would never be vulnerable with you again after you pushed him away like this. But maybe that was for the better. As your breathing returned to its normal rhythm, you started to focus on reality again. You were on a mission, Mando had mentioned a tracking fob or something? What about the Wookie? Mando hadn’t mentioned him, so you guessed he was safe? It was not like you could go to him for information now. Maker, what have you done? What had you been about to do?

Maybe it was the painkillers, you thought to yourself, though you knew it was no valid excuse.

--------------------------------------------

Hours later you mustered up the courage to go to the cockpit. As you expected, Mando was sitting in the pilot’s seat, his helmet facing the broad windshield. He didn’t react to your appearance. “I am sorry,” you told him as you sunk down into the seat next to him. “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he replied mechanically, still not looking at you. “I was simply looking for a little distraction.” His words stung more than you cared to admit.  “Right,” you retorted, a little too sharply to appear casual. He turned his helmet to you. “Just sex, remember?” You gritted your teeth as he used your words against you.

“Where are we heading?” you switched the topic. “I don’t know yet, they are still on the move.” The Mandalorian was pointing at the tracking fob in front of him. A small blue dot was moving across the map of the galaxy, not far from the position of your ship. “I got to hand it to the droid, he is a good pilot,” he added, pointing to Artoo, who beeped excitedly at the approval. “The best,” you corrected him, looking fondly at Luke’s R2-unit.

“What – what happened to the Wookie youngling?” you asked cautiously. “She’s safe. Her mother decided she was ready to begin her training, so I contacted Luke. He’ll send someone to pick her up and she’ll be protected by the other Jedi in the temple.” You cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “You contacted Luke?” – “Yes. We are…good friends.” There was something in his voice that you couldn’t quite place. “I immediately called the droid to pick us up when…they left with him,” he went on. You only nodded as the guilt began to nag at you again. As if he could sense your thoughts, he said: “Stop blaming yourself, it wasn’t your fault.” You shot him a surprised glance, but only shrugged. No matter how often he’d reassure you, you were the only person who could relieve you of your tormenting thoughts and you were not ready to let yourself of the hook – definitely not before Grogu was safely back in your ship.

You spent a few minutes in silence, watching as the blue dot moved across the holographic map. “What do you think they are doing to him right now?” Mando asked into the silence of the cockpit, his voice sounding strained. “I – I don’t think they would…hurt him. They need him,” you tried to reassure him and yourself.

“If only – if only I’d gone after him myself. If I had been more…vigilant…I would have seen that you had not gotten to him. I could have saved him,” he muttered, completely ignoring your attempt to comfort him.

“Mando, no,” you breathed out as you got up and moved towards him. Carefully, not wanting to overstep his boundaries, you placed your hand on top of his. “I told…I scolded you for not trusting me. And then I failed you, you did nothing wrong. If it weren’t for you, they would probably have gotten the Wookie as well and disappeared without a trace.” He let you touch his hand, which was once again shielded by a layer of leather, and you softly started to draw soothing circles across it with your thumb. Mando didn’t reply, only tilted his helmet down to where your hands were entwined. “This is…not the first time I let the Empire take him,” he confessed in a shaky tone. “I should have let him go. He’d be better off without me.”

The audible pain in his voice was too much to bear, you were willing to do anything to make it go away. So, you damned your previous worries, let go of his hand and took a few more steps around him. As you stood directly in front of him, you got on your knees and heard the Mandalorian take in a sharp breath. “And you got him back last time, didn’t you?” you said while looking up at him. “He is damn lucky to have you in his life and I know that you – and me too for that matter – would do anything to get him back.” Your hands slid over his beskared thighs and he spread them apart out of what felt like a reflex.

“W–what are you doing?”, Mando inquired warily. “You said you wanted a distraction,” you replied innocently and dragged your hands up and down his thighs to support your words. He swallowed audibly. “But– but you –,“ he protested without any conviction. “You told me to s–stop.” His breathing turned ragged as your hands neared the now evident bulge in his pants. “Changed my mind,” you responded and licked your lips in a suggestive manner. His strong reactions to you made you quite bold. “D–don’t do t–this out of pi–pity,” he warned you. “You think I’d blow you out of pity?” you asked him incredulously. “Yes, I want to help you to get the edge off a bit – but don’t think it’s fucking charity. I want to feel you down my throat,” you admitted and saw his cock jump at the vivid image. “So, will you let me?” You leaned forward a little and brought your hands teasingly close to his manhood. “Y–yes,” was all he managed to get out while he reached for his pants.

His member sprung free and you hummed in approval at the considerable length of it. You spread Mando’s thighs further and wedged yourself between them to get a better access. He went rigid at the first contact your hand made with his shaft and you couldn’t hold back a little smug smile. He was utterly at your mercy. Your hand wrapped around his base and you gave him a few testing pulls, to which he reacted with a groan of pleasure. As you brushed your thumb over his tip, you felt the wetness of his precum and his hips thrust up into your hand. “A little more patience, Mando,” you chided him playfully, high on your sudden power trip. “You–you will regret t–this,” he promised in a husky voice which made the space between your legs pulse. “We’ll see,” you hummed and gave his length another teasing stroke. “F–fuck,” he cursed under his breath.

You decided to have some mercy on him and took a small part of him into your mouth. When you let your tongue run over his tip, his hand came down on the back of your head and tightly gripped your hair. In response, you eased him into your mouth further and he groaned raggedly. As you sucked on him, he came completely undone and thrust his hips up, forcing himself down your throat unexpectedly and making you gag. “I–I’m sorry, Jedi. Are you alright?” Mando asked you with a level of concern in his voice that almost made you regret your change of heart. You couldn’t reply verbally because he was still filling your mouth, so you simply took him in an inch deeper in response. Mando’s breathing hitched. You sucked on him again before you pulled back. Needing to recover from his sudden intrusion, you took a few breaths and continued pumping him with your hand. Mando thrust into your hand greedily.

You decided to torture him a little more and swirled your tongue across his tip again, but didn’t take him in further. He groaned in exasperation. “D–don’t b–be like t–that, Jedi.” He ran his gloved fingers through your hair while tugging your head closer again. “Y–you         s–said you–you wanted me to c–cum down your–your throat,” he reminded you in uneven breaths. “Will you let me?” He untangled his hand from your hair and let his fingers trail over the sensitive skin on your throat in emphasis. “Fuck–fuck Mando…anything– anything for you,” you gasped out, completely losing your focus and surge of dominance as you felt his hand on your neck. “Good girl,” he growled out, making you moan.

You brought your lips back to his cock and let him fuck your mouth at his pace, the sound of him leaving and reentering your mouth the only sound in the otherwise quiet cockpit. You felt your own wetness increase as you sensed him growing harder and harder. “F–fuck, I’m c–close,” he exhaled and placed his hand on the back of your head again to secure you in your position as release barreled through him. You swallowed the rows upon rows of cum he spilled down your throat greedily, savoring his musky taste.

When he was spent to the last drop, he slowly pulled his cock out of your mouth and leaned back in his seat. He pulled his pants back up and you took that as your signal to leave, so you slowly got up and reactivated your sore leg muscles. You were about to go and let him be since your mission to distract him seemed to have been a success. Swiftly, his hand snapped out and grabbed your wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?” he challenged you in a dark voice that made your pussy throb. “Um…I–I thought you might want–um–I don’t know–privacy?” Your voice hitched embarrassingly at the last syllables. Mando let out a huff of what you could only interpret as amusement. “Privacy,” he tested the word out on his tongue. “What I want is some privacy with your cunt.” Your head snapped up to his in surprise at the sheer dominance he emitted. You swallowed, unsure how to react. “Will you not let me repay the favor?” he went on and patted his thigh in a silent invitation.  

Without thinking about it, you climbed onto his lap. Your usual swagger had abandoned you completely exactly when you needed it most and Mando – that bastard – seemed to know it. He took the lead and placed your hands on his shoulders. Then he let his hands roam over your body ravenously. First, he lifted your shirt up a little and put one hand on your back to steady you while his right hand palmed one of your tits.

He let out a soft moan at the sensation. “Fuck–you f–feel so–so warm and s–soft,” he praised you under his breath. His other hand gradually dragged down your spine until he stopped at the hem of your pants. You nodded in silent encouragement and with your consent, he let it slip through the waistband. How convenient that there was no underwear in space. As he cupped your ass cheek, both of you let out a pleasured moan in unison.

He released his other hand from your breast after giving it another firm squeeze and moved it to your second butt cheek. You ground into him with a small whimper in a desperate attempt to relieve the upbuilding heat in your core and he gripped your ass harder, pushing you back a little. Mando leaned forward slightly so that his helmet rested right beside your head. “You are greedy, huh?” he whispered into your ear with a soft chuckle. “You will cum when and where I want you to, understood?” His words sent a shiver down your spine. Rapidly, one of his hands snapped up from your ass and he gripped you by the throat. “Understood?” he repeated. You nodded as much as his grip allowed you to. “Good,” he snarled.

He leaned back again and released your neck. Then he let his hand dangle in front of your mouth expectantly. Following his train of thought, you lightly bit down on the fabric of his glove, allowing him to free his hand. The other hand was still rested on your ass and pushed you up so that you were basically kneeling as his ungloved fingers traced the hem of your pants. Without any more preambles, he guided his bare fingers to your heated core. The first contact of his fingers with your wet folds made you shudder. Mando groaned in approval at your dripping wetness. “F-fuck,” he muttered as he began to draw small circles on your clit, coaxing a wanton moan from you. For a while, he continued to tease you and let his fingers roam around your pussy, his fleeting touches painfully delicate.

“M-Mando,” you huffed, “P-please.” – “I love it when you beg for me,” he all but growled in response and dipped one of his fingers into your core. You arched your back while taking in the sensation and his other hand snaked its way up its curve. His finger curled inside of you in a delicious angle and your palms dug into his armor at the marvelous feeling. You felt his eyes monitor each of your reactions to his movements as he slowly drove his finger in and out of your wetness. It was tantalizing and you tried to force him to move faster and harder by rolling your hips down. “Tsk tsk tsk,” he chided you and forcefully pushed another finger in. “Are you satisfied now, Jedi?” You simply nodded, overwhelmed by the feeling of him pumping his fingers in and out of you. His pace quickened and your eyelids fluttered shut. In this moment, the only things that existed in the entire galaxy were his fingers and the growing heat of your core. The rhythm and the technique of his movements was devastating, each thrust felt more mind-blowing than the last. His pace didn’t falter once, not even as his other hand maneuvered down your spine before greedily grabbing at your ass. You felt your walls clench down on his fingers and they curled into you again, making you moan obscenely loud.

As you reached your climax shortly after, he made you see stars and you heard Mando mumble indistinct praises under his breath. He kept his movements up until you were spent to the last drop. Only then did he slowly pull his fingers out of your dripping cunt.

You slumped down onto his lap in exhaustion and buried your head in his armored chest while trying to calm your hammering heart.

A metallic sound made your head snap up, but Mando pushed it back down quickly before you could see anything. A little confused but too exhausted to fight him, you let your head fall back into its previous position. Only when you heard soft slurping sounds did you comprehend what was going on. He must have removed his helmet to taste you. The realization turned you on more than you cared to admit and you felt the wetness in your pants increase.  

“You – you taste so g-good, Jedi,” Mando groaned. “I can’t wait to feast on you properly.” The statement made you swallow audibly, but you were too stunned to reply verbally. You heard him pull his helmet back on and let out a small relieved sigh, your current position was quite compromising. You pushed yourself up on your knees and pulled your pants up. After patting your ass one last time, Mando released his hold on you and you carefully climbed out of his lap.

Your legs still felt a little wobbly as you left the cockpit without another word.

-------------------------------------------------

You avoided Mando for the rest of the day, not sure how to feel about what you had done. Instead, you used the time to tend to your wounds and obsessively reorganize your supplies multiple times. After that failed to keep your mind from wandering down certain paths, you gave up. You couldn’t evade this forever, you eventually had to liberate your thoughts.

Why did you change your mind? Why were you so desperate to relieve Mando of his worries? Did you actually do it out of selflessness or did you have ulterior motives you were not willing to face? What if you wouldn’t be able to rescue Grogu from the claws of the Empire?

You quickly forgot about your stolen moments with the warrior as you considered that grim vision of the future. It was your fault that Grogu was not with you right now, of that you were absolutely certain. It didn’t matter how hard Mando had tried to ease your guilty conscience, you didn’t deserve his sympathy. You had promised to retrieve him and failed miserably. How could you have been so blind? You should have seen the detonation coming, you should have sensed it through the Force. If only you hadn’t been too fucking weak and pathetic to get up that damn tree…

You sighed deeply. If you wouldn’t get your apprentice back, you would not be able to call yourself a Jedi any longer. How would you ever face Luke again? Or Mando? Or even yourself? No, you would not be able to live with yourself if you failed again. And a part of you, a part you desperately tried to ignore, also knew that you could not live with disappointing Mando.  

Fuck, when had you grown so fond of the silent warrior? You did not let your guard down this easily often, what was so different about him? You could not afford to…feel something for him, especially right now.

You had bigger issues in front of you than your past and your love life – if one could even title it as such. Still, your mind kept circling back to it and how could you tackle these new demons if you hadn’t even bested your old ones yet?

You took a deep breath and let your mind guide you to a place you had locked away for years.

The world was a cacophony of screams and blastershots. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t get yourself to tune the sounds out and concentrate. Your gaze shifted to your left where your father was crouching defensively over your sisters and then back to your mother. She looked absolutely devastating, a force to be reckoned with, her yellow lightsaber illuminating the focused lines of her sharp face. She was standing between your family and whatever was awaiting beyond the door of your home, ready to take it on without any fear for her own life. You took a deep breath and let her presence calm you. You were a warrior, just like her, and you would not be afraid. You would fight till your last breath to defend your family.

Your father called out to you again: “Get back here, now!” But you would not hide. You were no coward; you would fight alongside your mother. She turned around to you that second, the hard lines of her face softening. She uttered your name in a tender voice. “Go to your dad. Everything will be alright.” But you sensed the lie and you would not let her face the threat alone. You would not let her die to protect you. She seemed to see the resolve in your face and sighed heavily. You had always been extremely stubborn. So, she turned to your father instead. “Get them out of here.” The look they exchanged was heartbreakingly tender and hopeless, both of them knew it would be the last one they’d ever share. Your father swallowed, but nodded. There was nothing he could do to help her in battle, all he could offer was to protect their children.

He pushed your siblings into the backroom before he went to retrieve you. You struggled against his firm grip, but he didn’t let go. Wide eyed, kicking and screaming at your father to let you go and let you fight, you were pulled out of the room. You’d never forget the way your mother looked at you then. The soft curve of her lips as she tenderly smiled – smiled – at you, fully aware that she was about to die.

Your screaming turned into uncontrolled sobs as your father closed the door behind you and pulled you into a tight embrace. “Hush, hush,” he tried to calm you, his own voice trembling. You stopped resisting and buried your head into the crook of his neck, your streaming tears wetting the fabric of his shirt. You remained like this for a moment before your father detangled you from him carefully. “Listen to me,” he addressed you and your sisters. “I need you to be brave now.” He wiped a tear away from your cheek. “You need to be really really quiet. Do not make a sound.” His voice became barely a whisper. “You need to hide.”

“How is hiding a brave action?” you demanded. Your father smiled at you sadly, as if he expected no other response from you. “Bravery is not always the most reckless course of action. Your courage will do you no good if you’re dead.” You forced your tears back and nodded.

“You need to hide and do not come out, no matter what you hear,” your father went on. He gave all three of you a kiss on the head before urging you towards the hidden trap door that led to your emergency room. Your sisters climbed down first and your dad gave you one last reassuring glance before you followed them. But before he could follow you down, loud noises began to erupt from the other side of the door. You gazed up at him in horror as he shut the trap door without another word.

The lump in your throat grew worse as you climbed down the last few steps of the ladder and faced your sisters. Their faces mirrored the dread on yours and you simply hugged them. You held on to each other until the noises above you subsided, forcing your breathing to calm.

“D-do you t-think it’s o-over?” your little sister asked in a small voice. You were about to reply when you heard steps directly above you. Something knocked against the ceiling of your room.

“Sir, I think there’s a secret room underneath this one,” a muffled male voice proclaimed. Shit, you had to act quickly. You had to protect your sisters or your parents’ sacrifices would have been in vain. You knew there were weapons hidden somewhere in this room, you had to locate them quickly. Silently stepping across the room, you searched for any kind of indents in the wall. Your fingers spotted a small notch and you pressed your trembling index finger into it.

Surely enough, the wall opened and a couple of blasters and your grandfather’s lightsaber was revealed. You passed two smaller blasters to your sisters – your parents had taught all of you the basics – and grabbed the lightsaber. While it was far too big for your children’s-sized hand, it felt oddly fitting. You took a deep breath and braced yourself for the attack as the trap door slowly slid open. A man poked his head into the basement and it was the last he saw as your sister’s blaster went off and hit its target. The man’s corpse tumbled down the ladder and landed in front of you in a loud crash. You winced slightly at the sight; you had never been confronted with death like this.

However, now was not the time to consider the significance of this death, you needed to focus. You knew your sisters had your back with the blasters, so you activated your lightsaber. For just a second, you let yourself stare in awe at the marvelous green blade, but you snapped out of it quickly.

You were by far not experienced with a lightsaber; you had only practiced with your mom’s a few times. The logical course of action would have been to take a blaster as well, but somehow the weapon had called to you. Out of pure instinct, you managed to deflect the first couple of blastershots your enemies fired from above. But as the rapid fire continued, your senses began to fail you. As much as you wished otherwise, you were not one of the legendary Jedi knights, the truth was that you weren’t. And considering your current situation, you probably never would become one.

It started with you accidentally leaving an open space when a blaster hit your upper arm. You yelled out in agony and your blade dipped for a moment as you tried to regain your composure. But one moment was enough for them.

It was one of those situations that seemed to pass in slow-motion when you look back at it. You noticed the blastershot sail past you and as you whipped your head around, you saw it strike your big sister directly in her abdominal. Her eyes widened in shock as she looked down at the clean whole in her stomach and back at you before she collapsed. She would never get up again. Your younger sister’s wail pierced the terrible silence and as she looked at you, you saw nothing but burning hate in her eyes.

Another blastershot brushed your thigh, forcing you to face your attackers again. You tried to keep your posture upright but your faith left you. You were certain you would die in this room. Not that you deserved anything else, you had let your sister die. If only you had received proper training. If you had been a full Jedi, you could have saved them. Your mother, your father, your sister…all of them. And because of your incompetence, your younger sister would perish with you.

She didn’t deserve to die. You had to protect her. If it hadn’t been for her, you might have let them finish you, but you owed more to her. You let your love for her guide you and mustered up the strength and focus to deflect shot after shot again.

You had found a rhythm in meeting the blasts with your weapon when suddenly, a figure jumped down and landed directly in front of you, next to the corpse. You staggered back in surprise. Whatever was before you was definitely not human. And while that was not unusual in the galaxy, the thing before you seemed disturbingly mechanic and menacing. All you saw in the dim light were its glowing red eyes. You took another step back, trying to move yourself between it and your sister. In a desperate attempt to scare the thing off, you swung your lightsaber out. In its glow, you saw your attacker more clearly.

It was a droid, but not the sort that usually helped out at your farm. This one looked too human to be fully machine, yet not alive enough to pass as human. You shuddered. The thing didn’t cease its movements, seemingly unbothered by your weapon. You swung out at it helplessly. The blaster of your sister was useless as it would probably have hit you instead of the aggressor. Faster than your eyes could detect, the droid attacked and disarmed you. You were too stunned to react in any way, the creature kept advancing as you simply stood there and stared at it. Somewhere distant, you could hear your sister scream your name over and over again, but your mind was elsewhere. You were one with the Force and braced yourself for the fatal blow. At least you’d be reunited with your family soon.

“Bring them up here,” a dark voice commanded from above and the droid jerked to a stop. A second one jumped down as the first one grabbed your wrist. Its metal fingers dug into the sensitive skin and you bit back the sharp pain. As you were being pulled back towards the trap door, too disheartened to resist, you heard a few blastershots go off as your sister tried to ward the droid off. The shots went silent quickly though.

It was pure muscle memory that made you climb up the ladder the thing pushed you on and soon enough, you were exposed to the bright sunlight flooding the room again. The droid grabbed your wrists from behind and forced you to stand still. You took in your surroundings with a concerning apathy. You had no idea why they let you live or how much time you had left. There were two men standing in the room, one in clone armor and the other one in black fighting gear. Your eyes roamed on, but you averted your glance from the motionless figure on the ground quickly.

“You fought bravely,” the man in black started. “So did your sisters.” You flinched at that and stared back at the trap door. Neither your sister not the droid had emerged again. “But you don’t have to die today,” he went on, his eyes narrowing as he focused them on you. There was something immensely unnerving in them, but you would not give him the satisfaction of breaking the eye contact.

“While my order was to kill all of the Jedi, I don’t think you’d count as one.” You could feel the rage burning up inside of you. “If you only had to kill Jedi, why did you murder my father and sisters?” you spat. He had the audacity to smile at you. “Now, now. Let bygones be bygones. Your father and sisters were of no use to me.” His grin widened. “One of you is more than enough. The Grand Admiral will be pleased with me.” You didn’t react to his words. What did you care what they did to you? They already killed those most dear to you, they could not hurt you anymore.

“You will be of great value to the Empire,” his monologue continued. “Thrawn has enormous plans for you. You will ensure our ultimate victory.” You had no idea what he was talking about, neither did you care. The man sank down on one knee in front of you and grabbed your chin. “Do you realize what an honor is bestowed upon you?” You spat in his face and he let you go, wiping it off his face with a disgusted expression. “I’m looking forward to teaching you obedience.”

But he never did get to give you his lesson. A shot went off and hit him directly in the chest. He was dead before he could draw another breath and the clone fell shortly after. You were still fixated by the droid, so you could not turn around to the source of the blastershots until he fell victim to them as well.

You spun around in astonishment to see your little sister with her blaster in hand, her chest heaving from the agitation. You exclaimed her name in wonder. How had she managed to fight off the droid? Once again, you were frozen in place. Your sister’s stare bore something venomous.

“You – you let them kill her!” she yelled at you furiously. “How could you?” It was all you could do to hold her glare. She was right, your sister’s death was your fault. “I…I,” you stammered. “I tried…but I couldn’t…I couldn’t…” You swallowed heavily. “You were willing to let me die as well. You didn’t even fight the droid,” she went on, tears welling in her eyes. “Alya,” you pleaded with her. “I…I tried…I did…but I…” Her stare remained relentless. “You are a disgrace,” she spat at you. “You always pretend like you’re brave and want to be a Jedi but…you will never be like mom. Never.” She picked the words she knew would sting the most.

“Alya…,” you began anew. “I…I’m sorry. You shouldn’t…you shouldn’t have saved me. I deserved death.” Her eyes widened ever so slightly at your admission. “We need to get out of here,” was all she said. You nodded slowly and helped her pack some supplies, any food reserves, clothes and medical kits you could find. You covered your parents with cloths. It was all you could do, there was no time for proper funeral rites, but it felt wrong to leave them like this.    

When you climbed back down into the basement to honor the sister you had failed, your gaze fell on the lightsaber. You would need weapons and while the lightsaber had kind of turned into a symbol of your incompetence, you could not stomach to leave it behind.

“I am so sorry.” You sank down next to your older sister and tentatively ran your fingers through her dark hair. You knew you could not linger, so you softly closed her unseeing eyes, said a quick prayer and left the room behind after packing a few more blasters.

Shortly after, you and your sister left your farm and small hometown behind with few credits and no idea where to go next.  

------------------------------------------------------

You opened your eyes, shocked to find yourself back in your ship. Your connection to the Force allowed you to relive memories in far more detail than those with fewer mediclorians in their bloodstream. Though you doubted you could have forgotten anything about that fateful day either way.

You had thought you were ready to finally face it, but obviously weren’t. With a deep sigh, you stood up. You doubted you’d ever be ready; it’s been over 20 years since your family had been butchered and their dead faces still haunted your nightmares. But there was a lot of unresolved trauma in your past and you had to start somewhere.

“Do you – are you hungry?” Mando appeared in the doorframe, putting an end to your flashbacks. You could only stare at him for a moment. The lights of the hallway illuminated his broad figure brilliantly. He was so beautiful in his armor; you could only imagine what a sight he must be without it. You forced these thoughts back, though you weren’t sure if suppressing them would be an effective technique for much longer. There was no going back anymore, not after what had conspired in the cockpit earlier. You swallowed nervously. Why were you nervous? What was wrong with you? Shit, he had asked you something, hadn’t he?

“Dinner?” he asked in a slightly confused tone. You cleared your throat. “Um…sure.”             “Are – are you alright?” he inquired. “Never been better,” you tried to feign nonchalance. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. “So, dinner?” you reminded him and he nodded before turning around. You followed him out of the room to your food stocks, grateful that he didn’t press on.

“Not to overstep the line, but how do you even eat?” you asked carefully while Mando was going through your supplies.

He barked out a quick laugh. “Do you think I eat with my mask on?” He turned around to you and cocked his head. “Um…I – I don’t know,” you stammered and felt your cheeks flush. Dammit, what was wrong with you?

“I can take it off as long as it’s not in front of another person,” Mando explained. “How long has it been since someone else…saw you?” You eyed him curiously. “I guess…it…it must have been well over two…decades.” You gaped at his admission. “Two decades?!” The Mandalorian shrugged and proceeded to pick out your dinner. Wordlessly, he handed you some bread and conserves.

“Two decades,” you repeated in astonishment. “What did you expect?” Mando snapped at you. “Did you think me to be without honor? Did you think I would have abandoned The Way?” You blinked twice, taken aback by his sudden outburst. “I…No, but…I can’t imagine what that must be like. How lone – “Not wanting to offend him, you cut yourself off. “It’s all I know,” he replied dryly, but the venom had left his voice.

“So, dinner…” You looked at the sparse food in your hands and placed it on a small counter top. “Dinner,” he echoed. “How do we…should I leave you alone?” – “You can stay,” he responded quickly to your astonishment. “H-how?” You were genuinely confused at this point. “You don’t rely on your eyesight too much with that power you use, do you?” he questioned. “N-not too much, no,” you answered cautiously, unsure if this was going where you thought it was.

Mando pulled a cloth band out of his belt. “Um…do you always keep that there?” You gulped as he took a step towards you. “Mando, what are you doing?” He came closer. “Mando…I – “ The words died on your tongue as he stepped around you.

“May I?” he inquired as his free hand brushed over your cheekbone. You nodded and his other hand came around to tie the band over your eyes. He gave the knot a testing pull. “Is it too tight?” His fingers trailed over your neck tentatively. “N-no,” you breathed out, still getting accustomed to the sudden deprivation of your sight.

Mando removed his hands from you and you heard him taking a couple of steps away before he lifted his helmet off of his head. While you were blindfolded, you were certain he was studying you shamelessly. Neither of you said anything and the longer the silence lasted, the more tangible the tension became. The quiet was interrupted by the loud grumbling of your stomach which mercifully snapped the growing electricity.

Not able to ignore your appetite anymore, you used the Force to locate your food and picked it up again. You took a greedy bite of the bread. The loaf was surprisingly soft and you devoured it ravenously. Once your immediate hunger was sated, you paused. “Aren’t you gonna eat something as well?” you addressed your fellow traveler. He didn’t respond, but instead you perceived a munching sound shortly after. The two of you finished the meal in companiable silence.

Once you felt utterly stuffed, you asked Mando whether you could take the blindfold off again. While he didn’t reply, you sensed him approaching you. “Do you really want to take it off?” he breathed into your ear. “W-what?” you stammered, dumbfounded by the warmth of his breath and his unexpected proximity.

“Just consider the…advantages…of keeping it on.” Maker, his voice was beautiful, especially without getting warped by the helmet. “Um…” You had absolutely no idea what to say to that. “I guess I’ll have to demonstrate it to you.” Sans warning, his lips were on your neck, causing you to let out a surprised gasp. He trailed small kisses across the side of it before reaching your throat. He placed a soft kiss on it as well before moving on and getting less tender. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin and you shuddered. Being robbed of your sight made the sensation even more powerful. He began to suck at the spot lightly and your mind went blank. The feeling was absolutely divine.

“Holy shit, Mando,” you murmured. You felt him smile against your skin before he sucked harder, earning a soft moan from you. He removed his lips from you for a moment. “You look good like this.” His lips were on yours a second later and you kissed him back out of pure instinct sooner than you realized what was happening. You were amazed by the softness of his lips and as your tongue explored them, you noticed how perfectly they were curved. Mando placed both hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. One of his hands snaked up to your neck to secure you in place. Not that you could even think about breaking the kiss...    

The movements of Mando’s mouth grew ravenous as you opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to enter. You let yourself get lost in him completely, wrapping your arms around his neck and forcing your bodies even closer together, and once again damned the consequences. Sure, your past would eventually catch up with you, but those worries couldn’t be farther from you than they were in this moment. You never knew that kissing could be this mind-expanding, it was like you were getting high off of the taste of him.

After what seemed like an eternity or just a split-second, you weren’t entirely sure, Mando broke the kiss. You heard his heavy breathing as he let forehead lean against yours. Not that your own circulation was much better, only now did you notice the rapid hammering of your heart.

“That was…,” Mando huffed out. “Intense?” you suggested and he chuckled weakly. “I suppose you could say that.” His thumb caressed the back of your neck tenderly. “You – you were right…sometimes the helmet is quite restricting.” You couldn’t hold the grin that spread across your face back and imagined how breathtaking his smile must be. The thought turned bittersweet as you realized you’d probably never get to see his face. Maybe it was for the better…It was far easier to keep the proper emotional distance as long he stayed in his armor…

You lowkey knew you were fooling yourself, but you so desperately wanted to believe that this – whatever this was – was purely physical that you didn’t call yourself out.  

“I could show you the other advantages now,” Mando implied as he let his fingers run over the hem of your pants suggestively. You felt yourself getting wet at the mere insinuation. “If you want to, of course,” he added hastily, making your heart expand ever so slightly in your ribcage.

“You’re really horny, huh?” you retorted. “You’re one to talk.” His hand slapped your as teasingly. “I bet you’re already soaking down there just from the idea of it,” he whispered and you could hear the smug grin forming on his face. His hand slipped through the waistband of your pants and cupped your throbbing pussy from behind. “Fuck;” he groaned. “You are.” He pulled his hand out of your pants again and you felt the slick trail it left in its wake.

“What do you want, Cyar’ika?” he inquired huskily. “My hand, my head or my cock?” You swallowed loudly at his proposal. “Fuck, Mando,” you breathed out. “Your cock.” At this point, you were beyond banter and all you wanted was for him to help the growing ache between your thighs. He moaned at your response.

Without another word, he pulled your pants down before you perceived him taking – or rather ripping – his own pants off. Once more, his mouth found yours and greedily tasted you. You grabbed for him and pulled yourself closer by his arms. Through the proximity, you could feel his hardness press up against your stomach. He ground out a soft curse before removing his lips from yours.

“You’re sure you want this?” His voice sounded breathless, yet incredibly soft. “Yes,” you assured him and he put his hands on your hips to steady you. Your blood began to pulse through your veins as you anticipated his next move.  

You felt him shifting a little so that his cock was placed at your slick entrance. The first contact with him made you throb more violently. You needed him inside you more than you had ever needed anything, but fortunately, you didn’t have to beg for him.

He thrust his hips up slowly, letting get accustomed to the sensation. A wanton moan escaped your throat at how deliciously he filled you and he remained inside for a moment before pulling his length back out. After a few more agonizingly slow thrusts, you cried out: “Faster.” Mando gladly obliged and his pace quickened. With each intrusion, he somehow got a little deeper and hit a different sensitive spot which drove you absolutely crazy. In an attempt to keep in touch with reality, you grabbed his shoulders and hung onto them for dear life as he pounded into you relentlessly.

 Involuntarily, you shifted a little, but that was enough. The small change of position and angle made his thrusts all the more devastating. Suddenly, he was hammering straight into your G-spot and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer if he kept going like this. “Mando,” you moaned. “I’m – fuck – so close.” You threw your head back as his grip on your waist tightened. “Good,” he exhaled and increased his velocity. You heard yourself cry out his name in response. He captured your mouth with his and you felt your release building up further. As if all of that wasn’t enough, one of his hands slipped between your conjoined bodies and started to stimulate your clit. An obscenely loud moan escaped your throat.

Your body couldn’t handle this anymore and you came so hard that you saw stars. His pace didn’t falter as he rode you through it and had you sobbing his name. Even once you were spent to the last drop, he didn’t slow down. If anything, he pounded into your hole with a new energy. You felt yourself tightening around him again as he stimulated the area that was still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“Fuck, you look so good like this.” His praise was almost lost in a wail of you. “Your pussy is – so – so – tight. Fits me so well.” He accentuated his words with his shoves. One of your hands gripped his hair and pulled him in for a desperate kiss. Even in your delirious state, you appreciated the silky texture of his hair as you let your fingers run through it. His hand left your clit and moved to your butt cheek to give it a firm squeeze. Your kisses grew feverously while he continued to utterly wreck you with his dick. Gasping for air, you pulled back for a second. Your companion, on the other hand, didn’t seem to need oxygen as badly as you did though since he immediately began to nibble on your jaw. His tongue flicked against the skin and he proceeded to voraciously kiss his way down your neck.

When his mouth reached the lowest part of it, he started to suck on it hardly, coaxing a gasp from you. You felt yourself getting closer to the edge for the second time at the combination of him pounding into you and bruising your sensitive skin. Your grip on his hair tightened as your walls constricted around his cock. Mando groaned loudly as his mouth left your neck before moving on to the next patch of skin.

Your orgasm washed through you with even more force than the first one and you were in pieces by the end of it. Sweat tickled down your forehead and seeped through the blindfold, wetting your brows. Mando removed his mouth from your neck and to your lips again as you were trying to regain your composure. You barely even registered the abrupt hitch of his hips as he himself was driven over the edge. His kissed turned wild and he bit down on your lip as release barreled through him. The coppery taste of your blood mixed in your mouths as he thrust into you a few more times until he was completely spent.

“Fuuuck,” he moaned out as he detached his mouth from yours. Neither of you moved for a while, both of you still recovering. Finally, he pulled his cock out of your leaking pussy and gave your ass one last soft slap before letting go of you completely. Your hands remained tangled in his hair and on his shoulders.

To be quite honest, you weren’t sure what would happen if you let go of him. You didn’t trust your legs to support you enough in your current state. Mando seemed to realize it because suddenly, you weren’t on the ground anymore as he picked you up and softly put you down on the floor. You felt him removing your hands from him before he took a few steps back. Too exhausted to really question what was happening, you just slumped down further.

You heard him move towards you again and before you knew it, tender hands removed the blindfold from your eyes. You blinked rapidly at the sudden overstimulation of your nerves and once you could kind of see clearly, you noticed the Mandalorian kneeling next to you.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his raspy voice modulated again. You cleared your throat before answering. “For what?” – “For the distraction.” Without another word, he stood up and left.

His words took a few seconds to register in your brain, but once they did, you felt wrecked for entirely less pleasant reasons than a moment prior. Distraction? Was that what that had been? Why were you feeling…disappointed? Sad? Hurt? About it...? You wanted nothing more than a physical conjoining and that was what he delivered. Still…Something about it stung deeply. You tried to shake the odd feeling off, but to no avail. Somehow, it lingered and only secured its spot in your heart the more time passed.

Chapter 5

Masterlist

[persephonessunflowers]

A little batjokes fic I have been working on. It’s also on ao3 but I’m kind of at a loss of which direction to go with it at this point. So I figured I’d post it here for now until I figure it out .

I fell in love with an idea. A picture I had created that was never meant to be. There was never any possibility that we could be happy together. That a life where only the two of us existed could be possible. Not when every part of me craved the adrenaline from a night of violence and waking up to new scars that defined who I was. And you with your savior complex, thinking the whole world would fall if you went away. Needing the praise even in anonymity. Hiding the scars that defined you with a well-dressed suit. It could never be. But I would be a liar if I said every part of me didn’t ache for the possibility of existing.

Joker rolled over. His thoughts had once again turned the bat. He would never admit that he spent countless hours losing sleep considering the possibility of a normal life. One where his past had not led him to this place. One where he could casually run into a beautiful man while doing something completely mundane. Maybe walking down, the street, perhaps in a coffee shot, or even stealing passing glances on the subway. Finally, one would make a move. They would go on dates, share laughs, and slowly fall in love. He grabbed a pillow lying next to him a slammed it into his face, an attempt to eradicate these thoughts. The joker wasn’t a romantic. He was tyrannical, a leader, the bringer of chaos.At least in his mind this was how he chose to believe he was perceived. Sure, some would say he was insane, psychopathic, a cold-blooded killer, and well truthfully, he was these things. So, these romantic urges that kept coming over him where very detrimental to the brand that he had built around himself. For God’s sake if a hot intelligent blonde woman in a skintight suit who was utterly devoted to him never did it for him then why the hell was he fantasizing about a grown man in a cape. Joker groaned again because it wasn’t just any man in a cape, it was Bruce fucking Wayne. Leave it to him to fall for an eccentric billionaire with a savior complex and moral compass to match.

If you had told Joker a few months ago, the man he was caught in this never ending dance of justice with was Bruce Wayne he probably would have laughed in your face and depending on his mood that day, you might have also not survived the interaction. He did have a flare for being dramatic and something about senseless murder just made him positively giddy. Rumors have always spread in Gotham City’s underground. And why would they not, everyone wanted to know who was truly under the mask that continuously foiled their plans. Most wanted to know so that they could end him for good. Or at the least target those closest to him in order to prove a point. Joker had never particularly cared about the identity of his sworn enemy. He much preferred the tango the two performed without any outside views of who the other was. Both pushing each other to the right to the edge, waiting for the other to overstep their boundaries and go too far. Names could ruin that. There was something about the not knowing that added to the thrill of it all. That made the excitement of both men rise. Joker couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of it. But now he had name to the face behind the mask.

It had started as a relatively normal day, when Joker received word that a Mr. Bruce Wayne had been seen sneaking around one of Joker’s new warehouses. Of course, this had piqued his interest. Why was the elusive billionaire in such a bad area of Gotham, it’s almost like he’s asking to be robbed. It’s not as if he could blend in, everyone knew his face. And secondly the only ones in the know about this newest warehouse were Joker, his most trusted henchman R, Harley, and a certain bat who had found out and stopped by for a visit a week ago. Of course he had found nothing, and the camera only caught him for a moment before he flung one of those damned batarangs at it and every other one he found. Joker sighed, batbrain probably never even considered the expense Joker would have to incur to replace those. The warehouse was nothing, more of a safety net if he ever needed the space. Or more than likely it would be converted to a place for those who worked for him to stay. God knows the filthy animals couldn’t keep a living space to save their lives. And providing living arrangements, food, drugs, and booze was generally the best way he had found to keep street thugs loyal to you. He may be insane, but he wasn’t stupid. And of course, he knew word about his new endeavor would draw the bat in. If there was one thing batsy couldn’t resist it was a hot tip about a new diabolical plan the Joker was forming. And so, what if Joker had his henchman anonymously tip off Jim Gordon knowing he would immediately find a way to alert the bat. Sometimes you have to force fate to get what you desire. And that night what he desired was not a fight but just to watch batman in action.

From his hiding spot the Joker could see everything his bats did. He watched him canvas the area and could hear the frustrated huffs he let out every time he again came up with nothing. He watched as bats paced back and forth clearly trying to figure out what angle was being played. Listened as he radioed Gordon filling him in on the nothingness the warehouse held. They went back and forth wonder what plan was being devised for this place. God Joker could watch him forever. Studying his lips, the way his jaw clenched when he was unhappy. He longed to see his face, to touch him. On the other hand, that would ruin their game and Joker really really liked games. It was fascinating to him that even though the bat had found nothing he stayed there pacing. Glancing at the door every few moments. Joker almost wondered if the bat was waiting for him to show up. Did their little fights give the bat the same thrill Joker got? The way both of their adrenaline rose, their hearts beating fast, and their breathing getting deeper. The pain was so intoxicating and led to the ultimate pleasure. Nothing else could top it. But not tonight. Tonight, Joker wanted him to squirm. And squirm he did. In semi defeat, the bat sat down on a box in the corner. Hidden in the shadows waiting. He waited the entirety of the night, unaware that the Joker was sitting merely feet away. It wasn’t until light started to seep in that the bat finally sauntered away. It was curious. Surely there was other crime going on in Gotham. Honestly when wasn’t there crime in Gotham, the city was a cesspool of it. He’d even heard tell of a heist the Penguin was planning that night. And surely Bats had been made aware of that. And yet he never left the warehouse.

Snapping back to the present Joker frowned at the tingly feeling the memory had given him. Now onto the pressing issue of why Bruce Wayne was at his warehouse and how he knew it was there. He gathered himself, choosing his most basic suit. It was navy blue and had none of the flare that he had come to appreciate. He also forewent applying his face makeup to appear more normal. After a moments thought he also chose to grab his sunglasses, gloves, and a hat in an attempt to slightly disguise himself. He doubted this would do much as he slid a hand across the white skin of his face. It was an aspect of himself that he struggled to hide. It was why he preferred the night over day. In the darkness he could appear normal, avoiding the judgmental eyes that the daylight cast. He had learned throughout the years of course. Purchased wigs and learned how to properly put them on so they looked real, he had found contacts that closely matched the color his eyes had once been. But he was unable to find anything for the skin. He had tried foundations but none of them worked. He often questioned if it was due to the acid, this led to a spiral of remembering the events that caused him to fall. He never spent to long considering it otherwise his mind began to drift to a dark place. A place that scared even him, one where he could feel his mental state slipping. Slowly succumbing fully to the madness. Joker shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. After a final glance in the mirror, he slipped out of his apartment to find an available car. He hoped Wayne would still be there, thankfully it was only about a 10-minute drive from his place. He had made this decision deliberately hoping that no one would consider he lived close to his investments and would rather stay far away from them to avoid suspicion. Once in the garage, he chose a simple black car and started the drive, preparing for a confrontation with the treasure of Gotham, Bruce Wayne. As Joker pulled into the warehouse drive, he could see a small blue car parked not far off in the distance. It was pulled off to the side of the road just slightly, he assumed the placement was meant to make it look like the car had broken down there but due to the current situation it seemed like it may be Mr. Wayne’s. He pondered whether he should go search the car before heading to the warehouse, ultimately deciding against it in case Wayne decided to stop whatever he was doing and head back. Joker put his car in park and turned off the engine. He felt it best not to alert the man breaking into his building. As he walked up the gravel, almost by divine intervention a certain someone was crawling out of one of the first story windows.

“Uhm, excuse me sir. I don’t usually like finding unknown men crawling out of my buildings.” it seemed best not to start off too accusatory in case there was a valid reason a billionaire was snooping around his property.

“Oh, uhm, of course I am so sorry about this.” He stopped and cleared out his throat. “I am Bruce Wayne, I uh wasn’t aware that someone had purchased this property. I had been informed it was for sale and wanted to check it out to see if it would be a good space for some new developments at Wayne Industry.”

Wayne held out his hand and Joker realized he intended for them to shake hands. How disgustingly formal. He slowly reached out a gloved hand to shake, watching as the man’s hand nearly covered his own. The strong grasp jolted through Joker and he quickly pulled away wiping the glove on his pants as if this would establish some kind of unspoken boundary between the two. Joker kept his gaze on the man, there was something so familiar about him. Maybe he was making it up it was completely feasible that he had just seen an interview the man was in. His excuse was reasonable as well. The property had only been off the market 2 weeks at most, but why bother sneaking into it and distancing your vehicle from the building?

“Oh, I see. I’m Jack. Jack…Sawyer. Do you always examine potential investments by climbing through the windows?”

The man’s face reddened. “The uh, the door was jammed and when I was assessing the outside of the building, I noticed one of the windows was ajar and figured it wouldn’t hurt to use that as an entry.”

“Hmm understandable. Well, I would be happy to give you a tour of the building, but I am afraid that it has already been purchased by me, so it would be no use to your company endeavors.”

Clearly embarrassed by having been caught the man stood there fidgeting. His jaw clenching and unclenching. His eyes darting to the gate. He wasn’t scared, no Joker knew fear, and this was not it. Nervous perhaps? Anxious? Something was off but Joker couldn’t quite place it. His voice, his mouth something about it called to Joker.

There was a long uncomfortable pause before Wayne looked at Joker and said, “Yeah, I…I would love a tour. Do you have any plans for the building?”

Joker hadn’t expected this. It was more of pleasant offering rather than one he actually wanted to do. But, maybe during the tour he could pinpoint what it was about this man exactly.

“I’m not really much of a planner Mr. Wayne. To be honest the price of the building was such a steal I couldn’t pass it up. I’m sure you understand that you don’t become a billionaire by spending recklessly now do you? I am considering using it as a storage facility. I own a bar you see and the storage capacity there is really lacking so I figured why not buy a cheap warehouse.”

The man seemed genuinely taken aback by this statement. His jaw clenching again. His eyes searching Jokers face as if he was trying to pull something out of him. Joker stared back, his eyes never leaving Wayne’s. It was as if they were locked in a battle only Joker wasn’t sure what exactly they were battling for. Surely Bruce Wayne wasn’t so pressed for a warehouse building that he was going to come for some lowly bar owner. And that was when it clicked. Jokers’ eyes broke the stare and fell to the man’s clenched jaw. He knew that clench. He knew that mouth. As if he hadn’t fantasized about those lips on him for months now. Bruce fucking Wayne was Batman, unbelievable. In his surprise he let out a not-so-subtle gasp.

“Are…are you okay Mr. Sawyer?”

“I uh oh yes of course, sometimes my mind escapes me, I suffered an accident sometime ago and the effects seem to pop up at the most inopportune times.”

Wayne dropped his gaze and shifted uncomfortably. “You said you owned a bar. What’s the name of it maybe I’ve visited there?”

“Oh, I highly doubt that Mr. Wayne. It doesn’t usually bring in” he paused looking the man up and down “your type, but….If you’re ever feeling frisky, it’s called The White Knight.”

Joker stopped to look at the man after saying this. He knew damn well that Batman had no idea of the existence of this place. He had undergone every security measure to ensure so. But he knew that this would elicit a response from the bats. How could it not? The Joker owning a secret bar that batsy hadn’t been informed about, on top of the bar being a mockery of his title. It would make Batman seethe.

Wayne’s eyes darkened and his nostrils flared, it was slight, but it was enough for Joker to confirm what he already knew.

“Thank you for the offer to show me the building Mr. Sawyer, but I’m sorry I just realized I have to go.” he glanced quickly at his watch, “I forget I had a meeting to attend. This has truly been an enlightening afternoon.”

“I agree Mr. Wayne, it certainly has been. Are you sure you don’t want a quick tour?”

“No, uh thank you but no. I truly have to go.” And with that Joker watched the man saunter down the driveway. He pulled off his glasses and stared after the man. This newfound information complicated things but it also gave Joker leverage and God knows Joker liked having leverage.

What to do with this leverage? He could let it slip…no…no he didn’t like that. Freely handing out this precious information to those lowly Neanderthals. No, they would go after him, and while Batman would never stand down, they would probably kill him. The bat would die at the feet of those he spent so long pursuing. He grimaced picturing the scene. He couldn’t let them kill Batman. Batman was his. Joker felt that nagging voice in his head again, the one he constantly tried to keep at bay with Scarecrow’s medication.

if anyone is going to kill the bat it’s going to be you right?? You could never let anyone take him from you. He’s yours, yours yours. HAHAHAHAHA.

He took his hands, slamming them to his ears. “Shut up, shut up, shut up I do not want to kill him.”

Of course not, maybe just torture him a little bit until you can’t stop, poor Joker always unable to prevent yourself from going to far.. Drag the knife across his throat, cutting a tad too deep. Tie him up. Let him bleed out while watching you perform. That’s what you want isn’t it? For the bat to bleed, his pretty red blood spilling across the floor. And as he falls to the ground ceasing to exist so does his deluded version of Gotham. You, standing strong watching the city succumb to crime and destruction. Knowing they will not mourn him. Gotham doesn’t care. Gotham feeds on destruction, chaos, and the ruin of its citizens. If you’re born here you don’t stand a chance. There is no good in Gotham, so you must kill the only thing that believes it exist. Kill the bats, Kill the bats, Kill the bats.

He felt his mouth curving up into a terrifying smile as a fit of giggles erupted from his mouth HAHAHAHAHA.

His hands fell from his ears to clasp over his mouth, an attempt to silence, well really everything. After a few minutes, the laughter subsided, and the thoughts quieted. He sank to ground resting his chin on the top of his knees. His faced ached from the experience as it usually did, tears began to well in his eyes, a product of self-hatred, anger, and sadness.

He didn’t want the bat to die. Or…or maybe he did. Things would be far less complicated if a certain dark knight wasn’t involved. Unfortunately, a part of him wanted to be held by the knight. His slight framed wrapped in the strong arms of his enemy. Letting his body go limp as he breathed in the comforting smell. Hands running through his hair. Soft whispers trying to convince him that the world isn’t all bad. But it is isn’t it? There’s no good here, no God exists because if he did, he would surely drown this city. This hell on Earth, putrid and reeking of sin. Never allowing happiness to live within its borders. Joker pulled himself upright and violently wiped away the tears that had covered his face. He was the goddam Joker not some pathetic schoolboy with the luxury of pathetically crushing on the most popular boy in the grade. Brushing off his pants from sitting on the ground he began to stroll back to his car. Tonight, he would choose chaos. Perhaps a robbery he hadn’t performed one of those in a long while. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Harley to get the men prepped and to choose a nice jewelry store for their night out. Yes, a robbery sounded splendid. Maybe tomorrow he would figure out what to do with Mr. Wayne. Or maybe he would do nothing at all, just keep the information in his pocket. After all what was the point in ruining their game?

"Mr. J, if you don't mind me saying, you're uh heart didn't seem to be all into the score last night..." Harley's eyes didn't quite meet us. No doubt they were fearing the repercussion these words would bring. She would never say it but she liked the anticipation, the not knowing what was coming. Perhaps she even liked the pain when it came. But, perceptive as ever she was correct.

Sighing Joker looked over at her. "Harley I've told you time and time again please do not call me that. Just Jack is fine. Please just Jack. I was merely distracted last night. There's some financials issues with the club that I need to work out."

She walked over to him, placing one hand on his. The other at her side twitching to cup his face, knowing he would withdraw if she did. "I can't call you Jack anymore, it's too...personal." Then she jumped back and just like that her mood changed and smile erupted on her face "Besides Mr. J is so much more fun to say, wouldn't you agree? It gives you authority and I love a man who has power." The deviousness written across her face.

"Damn it Harley. Then call me Mr. Napier if you insist on acting this way about it. Also cut the showbiz act. It makes you seem desperate and pathetic." He knew the words would sting her. He wanted it too. He hated her for bringing out the worst in him. But that nagging voice loved her for it. Together the two could be unstoppable, maniacal. It's why he had broke it off. She was smart, brilliant even. She knew what his inside voice wanted and she knew how to provoke it out of him because in that world at least they are together. Part of him wanted to snap her neck and that be the end of it. And yet another part knew he could never do that because he cared for her in the way only two people with so much history and tragedy could. His gaze fell to her stomach, wondering what could have been. "Leave me alone Ms. Quinzel, your presence is pissing me off."

Tears gathered in her eyes as she turned to leave the room, slamming the door for effect.

He winced at the sound. Going after her would just provoke her wrath and he didn't have the energy to deal with that. It's best to give it a few days. He shouldn't have lashed out at her. He was frustrated. The bat had failed to show up last night, which meant the thrill he normally got from nights like that was nonexistent.

There was no point feeling sorry for himself. It never led to any place good. He stood up grabbed his jacket and headed for he bar. At the very least he could use this energy to get something done and for the sake of his workers hope that none of them were stupid enough to tantalize him tonight. His bloodlust was encompassing him and anything could set him off at this point.

The walk from his apartment to the bar wasn't a far one but the cold air made it seem like miles. Joker shivered trying to shake the chill that encompassed him. Gotham was always cold. It didn't matter what time of year it was. Sure the air warmed but you could still feel the breeze nipping at you, waiting to drop. He glanced at the sky, dusk was settling. It didn't matter, the sun never quite shown here in Gotham either. It was gray, just consistently gray. But it never seemed to bother any one else, or at least not that he had noticed. It's where his flare for colors came from, he wanted to break away from the gray.

He was merely feet away from the opening of the bar, the music creeped onto the otherwise silent street. He smirked, the song playing was one of his favorites. He leaned against the brick wall feeling the vibrations of the loud speak reverberate through calming him. He closed his eyes and just listened. Sighing as the song ended he felt a little better. Perhaps he would just go to his upstairs room and let the music take him away for the night. He would never admit the sway the sounds had over him. Finding comfort in the beats a rock song would produce.

A rustling sound came from the doorway, making him straighten quickly, keeping his face a blank canvas. He could already hear the gossip from his men if one of them found him out here basking in the sound of the music. Especially, with how he talked about it in front of them. Calling it a pointless waste. No. His entire personality was to remain hidden. To them he was a maniac, always angry, and mere moments away from snapping. Everything was jokes and crime. Not an entirely wrong synopsis but he was never to be seen as human, because that meant weakness and he would never again be seen as weak.

Fortunately, this was just a drunk patron stumbling his way out. In his drunken state the man couldn't particularly walk straight and managed to trip over his feet, his face colliding with the Joker shoulders. Finally a reason to have some fun. In less than a second Joker twisted away and wrapped his hand around the patrons throat, with full force he pushed him into the wall. The mans head collided with the brick, a sickening thud could be heard. Joker smirked, even drunk he could feel the mans fear radiating off of him. His adrenaline keeping him alert. His eyes screaming for help in ways his mouth could not. It was heaven. Joker leaned into the man, "Didn't your mother ever teach you that you should watch where you're walking?" He could feel his smile widening

"I.....I......uh.....I....I'm sorry sir." He gasped between words. Jokers fingers were wrapped so tightly around his neck it was a miracle he was able to get any words out all. With a glance down, Joker could see that the man had wet himself. Well this is no fun, the poor sap isn't even going to fight back. His smiled faltered where's the fun in that?

Just kill him, he isn’t worth anything. No one would miss him. Snap his neck, feel his bones crush beneath your strength. Come on you know you want to. You want to feel that rush. See the light as it drains from his eyes. Pleading until the very last second.

Joke could feel his smile widening again. His fingers twitched as he started to laugh. The man's eyes grew large with realization. He knew that laugh. All of Gotham knew that laugh. His body started to shake as tears streamed down his face.

See how pathetic he is. He doesn't deserve to live. You know you want the high this will give you.

And with that he gave in. His fingers tightened and with a final gurgle the mans will gave and his body slumped. The Joker let go and gasped at the feeling it gave him. He was positively giddy. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad day after all. He pulled out his phone and called one of his men to come dispose of the body. He didn't need anyone poking around his bar. A worker came out the side door and Joker motioned him over.

The worker glanced briefly at the body "Geez boss what'd he do to you?"

With a sneer Joker spat back "Not that it's any of your business but he bumped into me. Now get rid of the scum."

Recognizing his boss's mood the man quickly grabbed the body and retreated.

Joker turned away walking into the bar. He was ready to have some fun.

[thekidultlife]

#3 Dom/Sub | 30 Nights with Lee Jihoon

30 Nights with Lee Jihoon

Once a week. Almost thrice a month.

Sometimes even more.

It was Lee Jihoon’s idea.

As assassins working on opposing sides, life is always on the edge. Deceit, death and violence are invariably a lifestyle; things that never fail to tail behind you as sowers of chaos. Thus, it is necessary for things to be quick, temporary and detached, in case something unexpected happens. In matters of carnal needs, the same rules apply.

The arrangement was simple and straightforward. When the time and place has been agreed upon months prior via discrete channels, you or Jihoon would sneak into the venue of choice either as guest or staff a few days ahead of schedule. Meanwhile, the other would sneak into the hotel through a different manner and finally meet up in the room you have decided upon. Every rendezvous would be done in a distinct method in order to lose anyone who would attempt to look.

Tonight’s tryst, much like every other, was expertly done.

Posing as a socialite guest for the fundraising gala at the hotel’s expansive function room, it was easy for you to get in and get out. On the other hand, Jihoon had entered the hotel as a businessman on a trip a few days ago and it would be his last night staying at the hotel.

“Hm. This place is way nicer than the last,” you remarked, picking up your bag inside a heavy mahogany cabinet which was deposited there by you a week before.

You could tell it was a presidential suite with its own lobby space filled with minimalist furniture, a larger than life bathroom which had a pool for a bathtub and a luxurious king sized bed which Jihoon was currently sitting on, busy unloading the weapons in his person. It looked like a room straight from an architect magazine.

“Found this place during a mission a long time ago. Thought it’ll be easier to infiltrate with the amount of events they hold here,” he replied, chucking out a final pistol from his coat.

You hummed in acknowledgement as you finished sweeping the whole place of any hidden cameras and listening devices.

“Oh, and the dress stays on, by the way,” he easily remarked, regarding you with cold eyes and a mocking smirk. “It’s my turn tonight.”

Wearing a sleek silken black dress that was loosely hanging on your shoulders by thin straps, it teasingly reveals a bit of cleavage and a peek of your thighs. You calmly agreed as you stood in your place, waiting for his turn to move. Without breaking eye contact, Jihoon slowly moved towards you with hands in his pockets. The game had long started without any preamble.

"Did you miss me, Y/N?" He asked as soon as he was in front of you, his intense eyes meeting yours.

"I missed your dick," you replied bluntly, earning a small chuckle from him.

"Come on now," Jihoon admonished you as he fished out a small pocket knife, admiring the reflective surface of the metal. "I'm trying to be romantic here."

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "This relationship is hardly romantic."

Arching an elegant brow, Jihoon began to circle around you, regarding you from head to toe.

"I'm pretty sure it's easy for us to pretend it is tonight, don't you think?" Placing the blunt side of the knife on your bare back, he slowly dragged it down your skin to where the dress began to flow again.

You flinched at the cold metal as he lightly traces it on your skin in patterns of whatever. Now fully completing his circle, the both of you are once again face to face; a cold fire burning within your evocative gazes. As he carefully caressed your neck with the tip of the blade, Jihoon made a small smile devoid of any warmth.

"As heartless murderers, we often lust for things we can’t have," he says dripping with smugness, tipping your chin up with the knife. “And you and I both understand that unsatisfied lust could prove disastrous in our line of work.”

He meandered the knife down your collarbones, deliberately creating lines as if he was imagining it piercing through your skin. You sucked in a breath, unable to say anything with how hard your heart was pounding against your chest. Despite your silence and seemingly apathetic attitude, you were loving it. The twisted thrill of being at each other's throats sent an unbelievable high through your veins, the same way you chased after the thrill of hunting and to be hunted.

Yet it still wasn’t enough.

"Let's see, what should we do first?" He moved the blade on the strap of the dress, lifting it up as it pulled taut. "Should I cut up this dress to strip you naked?"

No. This wasn’t enough at all.

“I don’t think so.”

You suddenly grabbed his arm, twisting it as the knife hurled towards the floor. Yet Jihoon was fast enough to react and swung his free arm towards you. Forced to dodge, your hold on him weakened and he was able to get himself free. However, that proved to be a fatal mistake as Jihoon retaliated back and seized your wrist. He pulled you forcefully towards him, and using gravity and his own weight, he pushed you back, hitting the wall in a loud, painful thud.

“You…” Jihoon was panting, his jaw rigid with adrenaline and controlled fury. “And here I was wondering why you haven’t made a move yet. What a woman you are.”

All of that happened in just a span of a few seconds. As trained assassins, it was necessary to be quick and exacting. Every action had a purpose and no energy was wasted, as little mistakes could spell a botched mission.

You flicked your head to remove the hair that was covering your face as you smirked at him, your chest heaving from all the action.

“But you love it. You love it when I fight back. You love it when you have to drag me to the bed screaming. You like this kind of thing,” you continued to provoke him. It usually brings out more of that intensity in his eyes, that kind of animalistic behavior from his stoic and aloof disposition.

“And you don’t?” Jihoon chuckled darkly, his little canines showing as he closed in on you. “We’re cut from the same cloth, princess. You love this as much as I do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

He ground his knee to the apex of your thighs, making you inhale sharply. “You like this, don’t you? You like it when I’m rough with you, manhandle you like the little slut you are.”

Hanging on only your bravado, you glared at him. “...fuck you…”

Jihoon simply smirked at your petulance, tightening his grip on your arms while you struggled to break free from his grasps. “Say what you want, darling. Soon enough you’ll be screaming my name as I fuck your cunt until you can no longer cum. You’ll be begging me to take you again and again and cum inside you until it drips down your thighs. You want me to fuck you, hard and rough. You like that don't you, my little slut?"

His voice was low and hushed yet you could feel the anger seep through his words, through the harshness of his tone. You failed to answer as you felt his knee push against your core once again, now harder this time, making you bite a moan.

"...make me…"

You were panting, your arms lay limp on his grasps yet you simply refused to submit. Pride and thrill kept you burning, wanting him to burn along with you; wanting to break that mask he wore. You wanted to see an unadulterated, unrestrained Lee Jihoon; the one who bares his real emotions even if those emotions were anger and lust.

Defiant to the end, you managed to catch his gaze, glaring at him with half lidded eyes and parted lips. Nonetheless, it gave a similar effect as you felt him tense up, almost wanting to devour you. Grinning at you maliciously, his look was feral and dark.

"This is what I like about you, Y/N."

Without warning, Jihoon pushed his lips against yours in an agonizing and bruising kiss. You gasped at how rough he was yet this was what you were looking for, the rush you chase after. Hard and unapologetic, he would bite and suck on your lips as if he was trying hard to draw blood, and you would push back like you always do, ravishing his until they were red and swollen.

I'm so in love with you. I love, I love, I love you.

You both knew you were never good at expressing what emotions were brewing inside of your hearts. So you fought and fought, hoping that the other would finally get it. You both prayed that maybe through every insult, every slap, every stubborn indignation to never declare defeat, the other would finally understand what you meant. It was twisted, toxic and cruel, but that's how it was.

I can never have you.

He let go of your other wrist, opting to rather place his hand on your neck as he applied a slight pressure. He knew you loved it, as you easily allowed him to play with your tongue. Jihoon was loving it as well, dominating you was a great reward, in and of itself.

Brushing your dress aside with his leg, he slipped in until his knee found your gradually dampening panties again and pushed against it. You made a garbled noise while Jihoon enjoyed ravishing your tongue.

You were slowly heading to subspace, you knew that, yet of course, as usual, you wouldn't back down without a fight.

In a moment's impulse, you bit his lip hard enough to bleed. Jihoon immediately pulled away, glaring at you with eyes ready to kill. He wiped away the blood with his thumb and sucked it clean as he hardened his clench on your throat.

With a sarcastic chuckle, Jihoon leaned against you, gazing at you with eyes burning with anger and desire before speaking.

"...you little brat…"

As soon as he was done talking, Jihoon held your arms tightly and dragged you towards the bed. You staggered, unable to walk because of the ache between your thighs, and simply allowed Jihoon to toss you to the mattress haphazardly.

Jaws clenched, Jihoon pinned you to the bed with his legs as he loosened his tie, seizing both your wrists to tie you up nice and good. You tried to struggle yet it was pointless: Jihoon was too strong and you never wanted to escape anyway, you just wanted to provoke him.

"There you go, princess! Isn't this what you wanted, you fucking slut? Doing this on purpose… do you want to be punished that badly?" He finally spoke again, his words filled with sarcasm as he noticed your expression of complete arousal.

As much as he wanted to be composed, Jihoon knew that he was as horny as you were, feeling his pants tighten up as he gazed upon your form tied up and helpless. He was getting antsy, his blood was pumping fast and it was your fault that he had slipped control.

Grabbing the long forgotten knife on the floor, he made a quick work of your dress, cutting it up into pieces as you cried in protest. It's not like he cared if it was Gucci or something. Now, you were left on your black lace lingerie which Jihoon always appreciated on you more than any dress.

"Let's continue, shall we?" He told you, yet his voice lacked the teasing elegance it once had. Now you could feel the deep seated irritation and the punishment you had instigated.

"You seem to like my leg so much," he placed it once again against your wet clothed pussy, making you mewl. "Why don't you grind yourself against it?"

You moaned in protest, sobbing as you felt him push against your now sensitive clit; daring you to relieve yourself in the most embarrassing and humiliating manner. Yet you wanted it, you were tempted to.

"Come on now, darling. Isn't this what you wanted me to do? Or would you like me to punish you instead?" Jihoon exclaimed with a smirk, watching you squirm under his knee.

Unable to hold it anymore, you slowly rubbed yourself against it, moving your hips steadily as you made a face of utter pleasure. You could see him through half-lidded eyes as he tried his best to calm down even though he was absolutely turned on as well.

"Look at you, Y/N," he teased in a sing-song voice as he grinned. "You look like a fucking slut, enjoying my knee like that. You look so fucking desperate. Does it feel that good?"

"...Jihoon…" you mewled, opening your legs even more, as you pleaded for more. You were getting closer as you felt the pleasure build up, your hole clenching for nothing. You wanted him to fill you up more than anything.

Yet he only pushed on your pussy harder, making you scream. "Answer my question. Does it feel good, princess?"

Gritting your teeth, you tried to suppress a shudder, arching your back.

"Y-yes, yes! ….it feels so…good!" You cried in submission, yet you continued to rub yourself on him. Any time now and you'll be coming…just a bit more…more…

Satisfied, Jihoon made a small smile and removed his knee from you as you protested in sweet, sweet sobs from the loss of friction.

"...no, n-no…Jihoon, please…!" You were now desperate, pulling against the tie you were bound with.

With eyes full of contempt yet with a content smile, Jihoon walked away and went to the nightstand beside the bed. Opening one drawer, he returned with something in his hands. You took a breath when you finally realized it was a bright pink dildo.

Without a word, he returned to his place from before, giving you a look that screamed he was planning something. Your heart was beating so loudly that it was the only thing that you could hear. Pushing aside your panties, he rubbed the toy on your slit, coating it with your own slippery juices. Every time it would push against your sensitive bud, you could only moan and cry out Jihoon's name.

He was smiling sweetly at you as if he wasn't torturing you with a dildo. Adoring your writhing figure on the sheets, Jihoon wanted nothing but to pin you down and thrust in you as harshly as he could. But he knew, with eyes glinting of mischief, that greater things come with patience.

Without warning, Jihoon suddenly inserted the dildo inside you in one rough push as you screamed in pleasure, arching your back as you pulled on your restraints. You were overrun by intense spasms as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your chest heaving in full breaths.

"...fuck…Jihoon, J-Jihoon…"

You could only mutter his name as you tremble at the remnants of your climax.

"Oh, did I make you cum?" He asked, pulling and pushing the toy inside of you, enjoying the wet sounds it made while you were crying out how sensitive you were. "You do know well that you can't just cum like that, don't you princess?"

Not waiting for a reply, Jihoon simply smirked as he crawled towards you, taking a hold of your chin as he made you face him.

"Isn't this what you want? For me to punish you for being such a fucking brat? Don't you just love this, darling?" He whispered to you, his lips just a few inches away. "I'm a generous person, so I'll give you more than you asked for."

As he swiped his thumb on your lips, he once again gave you a bruising kiss, his tongue forcing your lips open and entering with such passion. Jihoon grabbed a handful of your hair as he raised your head, drowning away your moans with his deep kisses.

Distracted by his lips, you hardly noticed Jihoon reach out for his pocket and switched the dildo on, vibrating in you as you choked out a cry. Pulling away, he reveled at the pained yet pleasured face you made as pools of tears began to form. You were far too sensitive, yet you knew there was no way you were allowed to cum. Like what Jihoon had said, this is exactly what you had brought upon yourself.

"How about that, princess?" He chuckled, pulling your hair to force you to look at him.

With eyes glazed and lips parted, you had no choice but to gaze at him as your face contorted in pleasure. There was nothing more embarrassing as he watched you with a shit-eating grin on his lips, yet there was nothing you could do as the vibrations intensified.

"Don't you look so pretty, Y/N?" He mockingly cooed at you, his hand wrapped around your neck. "That fucked out face really suits you."

"J-Ji…please, please…nghh—! I...w-want you…" you muttered through moans and pants, yet he only scoffed.

"Come on now, princess. Are you already at your limit?" He moved the hand on your neck and pushed your head up. You couldn't see him but you know he was gloating. "After that show of yours, I'm sure you can handle a bit more."

Not waiting for a reply, Jihoon dipped down your neck and began to leave dark bruises on your skin as much as he could. You knew, after being with this man for such a long time, that he would leave visible marks, not caring if anyone would see. He was possessive that way, and you loved it no other way.

Making his way down, Jihoon easily removed your bra away and tossed it somewhere across the room. You immediately arched your back as you felt his tongue on your nipples, sucking, teasing, biting while you were reduced to a screaming mess. He can easily identify your sweet spots, memorizing it as easily on the first night. He knew you had sensitive breasts and he took no time to fondle and squeeze them.

At this point, you were at the brink of another orgasm, the dildo providing no comfort as it once again vibrated in your cunt. You had long been begging Jihoon, yet he had easily reminded you that this was a punishment by pushing the dildo deeper inside you.

"Do you want my cock instead, princess?" He taunted, pulling and pushing the dildo in and out of you, making a wet sound that echoed across the room. "I could give it to you if you ask nicely."

You could only groan as you felt his fingers brush against your clit, the dildo vibrating violently in you. You wasted no time to whimper pleas.

"P-please...mmnn...J-jihoon...I want it…I w-want it s-so much…"

He smirked. "Want what, darling?"

Taking every single inch of your strength not to cum, you replied with tears in your eyes.

"I w-want your cock…Jihoon…please, p-please! Nghh! I want in me…!"

Humming, Jihoon casually straddled you across your torso, his legs pinning you down as he gave a small smirk. He began to unbuckle his belt, gazing down at you who had more or less an inkling of what he was about to do.

"Since you've been a good girl and all," Jihoon began, slipping the belt off. "I'll give you a special treat before I fuck the shit out of you."

Unzipping his pants, Jihoon freed his now hard cock from its restraints. You could only nervously gulp as he took a fistful of your hair, making you sit up. With a grin, he pressed your face against his crotch, looking down on you.

"You know how to suck dick, right princess? With a low drawl, he asked; his contained lust and irritation obvious once again.

You looked up, nodding tentatively. He looked so immaculate at that angle, his smile almost soft, but you knew better than to let your guard down. Taking all of him in slowly, you accommodated his length in your mouth, careful not to scrape your teeth against it. Jihoon was big and it was difficult for you not to choke on his length without being careful, yet it seemed like Jihoon had other ideas up his sleeve.

With a tight grip on your hair, he easily forced himself down your throat, making you gag in the process. This was nothing new but it took you by surprise every time he did it.

"Your mouth feels so good around me, princess," he groaned out, caressing your filled cheeks as he thrusted in harshly. "Makes me want to come in that pretty little mouth of yours."

You gazed back at him, head bobbing, as you felt his hard cock twitch between your lips. You felt so full with both his dick in your mouth and a dildo still inside your pussy. Feeling your juices coat your thighs sticky, you clenched tightly at the toy as you felt his tip brush your throat. If this was your first time, you would've thrown up at the beginning yet being used to this, you knew how to handle him and how to enjoy yourself.  As he met your eyes, arousal shot down your stomach in a flash. You were instantly reminded why you always returned to him, why all of this was so addicting. You loved the look in his deep brown eyes--dilated, feral and aroused.

"Princess…ahh…that's right," Jihoon moaned breathless, tightly gripping your hair as you quickened your pace. "I'm going to come soon…you better take all of it in, okay?"

Humming your agreement, you unintentionally sent vibrations down his shaft, making him growl. In a few strokes, Jihoon came inside your mouth in a loud groan as you struggled to swallow all of it. Much like the first time, he came a lot and some had spilled down your chin.

Loosening his grip on you, Jihoon pulled out, his mind still lightheaded from post-orgasm. As he watched you lick yourself clean of his cum while still being tied up, with a flashy pink toy still in you, a new surge of arousal came to him. This was definitely not over.

Cupping your chin, he bent down to kiss you once again. This time it was deeper and more sensual as if a dam had opened up in him. You easily welcomed his kiss, moving against his lips sloppily. As if something had possessed him, Jihoon hurriedly took off the coat and the dress shirt he was still wearing as he pushed you down the bed once again.

Jihoon, as he opened your legs, took a good look at your ruined panties and your obviously and painfully wet pussy with a huge smirk on his lips.

"What a sight to see," he remarked as he slipped your underwear off. "You've only sucked my dick and you're this wet?"

Finding your voice again, you retorted back. "...like I said…I love your dick--!!"

Without allowing you to finish, Jihoon pushed down your sensitive clit harshly with his thumb, effectively making you shut up and moan.

"Being cheeky now, aren't we princess?" He arched his brow at you. "You're still not allowed to cum, by the way."

Pushing the dildo as deep as he could and then pulling it all out, Jihoon took pride at how he can easily have you mewling and panting. You had protested at the sudden absence of the toy inside of you, pleading Jihoon to just fill you up already. Tutting at your impatience, he simply knelt down and showered kisses to your inner thigh.

"That's what you get for being such a brat, princess. You don't get to cum unless I say so," he whispered to your skin, sucking one love bite on your thigh.

In a beat, Jihoon spread you open, his tongue on your clit instantly. You screamed, your hands gently pulling on his hair. Feeling his tongue licking up your slit, you had to close your eyes from the pleasure you were assaulted with.

"Oh…god…J-Jihoon, Ji...hoon! P-please!"

As if he had heard nothing, he only continued to eat you out like a hungry man; pushing his tongue in and out of you. More than that however, Jihoon spontaneously inserted a finger inside and began to finger your pussy. While you were busy trying to stave off the growing arousal at the pits of your stomach, one finger became two and then three. Jihoon was thoroughly enjoying you; sucking your clit as he pushed his digits inside of you; just curling at the right angle to reach your g-spot. He always loved how much you had become pliable with his tongue.

Washed with oversensitivity, you were already screaming at him that you couldn’t take it anymore. You could feel the tension in you stretch, just waiting for a trigger to snap. With how he worked you with his tongue, there was no way you wouldn't come undone.

"Jihoon…I can't…p-please, please…let m-me come…" you begged in between soft moan and sobs.

Eyes brimming with mischief, Jihoon gazed at you from between your legs. He pulled out his fingers from inside of you and sat up, almost chuckling at how you were becoming so livid at his push and pull actions.

"Don't look at me like that, princess," he cooed at you, pushing his fingers wet with your juices between your lips. "I'll give you your reward now."

Stroking his now hard dick with the fingers he had in your mouth, Jihoon smirked at you. Despite in your hazy and overstimulated mind, you felt your heart race as you paid close attention to him. You loved how his toned body moved, how he looked so sexy topless with only his tight black pants on. You loved how he would always coat himself with your fluids, teasing your clit with the tip of his dick.

Lost and mesmerized, you were caught off guard when he plunged into you, bottoming up in one stroke. You opened your mouth in ecstasy, unable to scream any longer with how hoarse your voice was. Jihoon's pace was always fast and rough, thrusting into you with certainty and brute strength. He had his hands holding your hips as you arched your back, your breasts moving as he pounded into you.

"J-Ji...hoon!" You cried out his name as he scraped against your g-spot, pulling on your restraints with how much you wanted to touch him.

"Ughh…princess…you're so fucking tight…" he grunted, sweat dripping down his muscular chest.

Grabbing your leg, he then placed it over his shoulder to reach you even deeper. Pushing into you who was muttering his name over and over again, Jihoon was in a frenzy. He reveled at your cute little whines, your cunt that was so wet and clenching on him so tightly. This was fucking heaven.

"Do you like my cock, princess?" He asked you as he pressed down your clit, waking you up from your pleasure-filled trance.

Watching yourself take all of his length in, you couldn't help bit squeeze on him tighter, making him growl at you.

"Y-yes, yessss….ngghh, y-your cock's  s-so…good, J-Jihoon…" you replied, eyes sultry. "S-so….good, mnnhh…please f-fill me up with your cum…!"

"You want my cum…princess?" Jihoon pounded harder, more erratic. "You want me…nnh…to cum inside you until it drips down your thighs…?"

Jihoon was getting breathy as you felt his dick twitch inside of you. You were in the same situation as well, teetering at the edge of a hard climax.

"Haaa….y-yes! F-fill me up! Fill me up with your cum, Jihoon! I want…I w-want it inside me!"

Jihoon groaned, rubbing your clit relentlessly. "Ughh…fuck…f-fuck, I'm coming! Princess, you better come with me…"

Thrusting in you as deeply as he could, Jihoon immediately sent you spiraling down your climax. Soundless screams ruptured in you as you felt yourself snap, falling into spasms of pleasure. Feeling your climax, Jihoon immediately followed right after with a loud groan, cumming as ropes of warmth filled you.

Breathless, Jihoon bent down to you, lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. His tongue effortlessly molding with yours as he cupped your cheeks, enjoying the way you moaned on his lips.

Still sensitive, you whined when Jihoon pulled out, as globs of cum immediately dripped down your hole. Staring at it for a while, something had clicked inside Jihoon's head. You thought he was about to tap out just like every other night, yet when he turned you around on your hands and knees, you knew it was hardly over.

"W-wait… Jihoon, I'm still--!!"

Not waiting for you to finish at all, he scooped some of his cum that had poured out and immediately thrusted in once again, stretching you out, making you cry out at the suddenness and the sensitivity.

"What…? You think we're done here?" He told you, his hands once again on your hair as he pulled your head back to whisper to your ear.

You wondered how he still had enough energy left, yet all your thoughts had just left you when he continued to pound relentlessly, his cock churning the cum inside of you.

"Ji…hoon…anhhh…I'm already…s-so full…of you…"

Closing your eyes to feel all of him, you could sense another orgasm building up. Jihoon was still so rough and unforgiving in all of his thrusts, and you could do nothing but moan and feel good at every stroke of his cock.

Still marking your back with splotches of deep dark bruises, Jihoon held you down as he took a bite of your shoulder which had you tighten around him like a vice.

"Ah, f-fuck princess…" he grunted, pulling your hips to his roughly.

Only the sound of skin slapping together and your loud mewls and growls could be heard inside the room. Jihoon had every intention from the beginning to mark you up as his inside and out. Even if it meant there would be more rounds than this. He was starting to become more possessive of you, and it was getting more complicated in his books, yet that only made the sex better.

"Jihoon…J-Jihoon, please…I'm g-gonna cum…ughh…please, inside me…cum inside me again…!" you begged, your head now on a pillow, drooling your words out.

Gritting his teeth to control himself, Jihoon pushed himself harder into you, brushing against your g-spot.

"Ah, fuck it, princess…!" He growled, "I'm gonna cum inside you…I'll fill you up so much until you're fucking pregnant…ahhh shit…!"

"Yes! D-do it…! Fill me up...K-knock me up please…J-Jihoon…!"

His rhythm had once again become erratic and his thrusts deep. With a finger rubbing your clit, you clenched and unclenched around his cock as you felt your orgasm just a few strokes away. As he pushed against your sensitive area, you once again felt ecstasy down to your very bones. You were still trembling and spasming with your orgasm when you felt him paint your insides with his cum, now overflowing your hole and spill down the sheets. Another wave of pleasure fell on you as you felt his warmth inside you, loving how full you were.

With a final kiss, Jihoon pulled out of you and untied your wrists. They were of course, red and irritated yet it was something for you to wear in the next few hours. Finally laying down beside you, Jihoon cupped your cheek and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"Let's cleanup later…" was what you heard when you yourself fell as sleep.

The next thing you felt when you woke up was a soreness between your legs and back, and Lee Jihoon, who was still only in his pants, wiping your body clean with a damp towel.

"Morning. Water's over there, if you're thirsty," he casually said, pointing at the bedside table.

Crawling towards it, you took the glass of water for a small sip. This was one of the calmer nights, and you appreciated it when it happens. Most of the time either you or Jihoon would just disappear without telling, and admitting it or not, it had pained you for a bit.

Once again on the bed lying under the covers, you observed him as he cleaned himself up. He noticed your stares however and glanced back at you.

“What?” he asked, now hopping into the bed next to you. That usually indicated a few more rounds until the dawn of morning.

“Nothing, really. I’m just thinking,” you replied, allowing his arm around your waist. You could be a bit lenient with him.

He arched a brow at you. “I have my own thoughts as well,” he remarked, nuzzling on your hair. “The way you begged me to get you pregnant…”

He smirked at this, much to your chagrin (and embarrassment). “It was as if you were planning to tie me down. Which, I believe, isn’t something too farfetched for you to do.”

You smirked, closing your eyes. “Who knows? But I would definitely do anything to bring you down, even if it means going down with you,” replying, you casually held his hand, “Besides, men like you need to be tied up once in a while.”

Jihoon hummed. “Is that something I need to look forward to next time?”

“You have to figure that one out yourself.”

-Hyeri 

A/N: It’s truly been a while since I wrote smut. I hope this was ok ;;w;;

[yootaesowlwrites]

Requested: No.

A/N: Decided to write something for his birthday.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit detailed sex scene, nudism, multiple locations mention, multiple locations used, slight bruising, slight dom/sub themes, clit stimulation, fingering, Jimin’s rings, slight breast play, slight nipple play, oral(F receiving), slight hair pulling, multiple orgasms, oral(m receiving), protected sex(ALWAYS USE PROTECTION), aftercare mentioned.

Word Count: 5 010.

【 • Primary Masterlist • Jimin Masterlist • 】

【 • Rules & Request • 】

The night was drawing to an end and the party was slowly dying down as people started leaving, even the birthday boy, Jimin, had bid his goodbyes, not that he wanted to go early, but he was awoken that morning with his girlfriend’s face next to him, a devious smile tugging on her lips, he should have known that she had something planned and when he lifted the covers, he knew it was going to be a long day for him, she had gotten up earlier and as quietly as possible she brushed her teeth and her hair and got dressed in a new lingerie set before climbing back into bed with and waited for him to wake up, which didn’t take long.

“If you behave yourself today, you can remove it tonight and you can have me in whatever way you desire.” (Y/n) told him.

Which now brought them to his car as he drove them back to their apartment after his birthday party, the sleeve from the shirt she wore had fallen off her shoulder and he could clearly see that the set had changed from the morning, which made him wonder how many new sets did she buy and how long would she be teasing him with the newly added additions, he gripped the steering wheel as he thought about it, she calmly sat in the passenger seat and slowly moved her hand to him, he didn’t take much notice as he tried his best to focus on the road ahead, she places her hand on his knee, his eyes flickering down to her hand for a second before focusing back on the road.

“What are you doing?” Jimin asks, she glanced at him as a lazy smile spread across her lips.

“I’m waiting.” (Y/n) says. “Or do you mean with my hand?” He stops at a red light, suddenly feeling as if the universe was against him, against the pleasure that awaited for them at home.

“You know I meant your hand.” Jimin states. “What game are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing a game.” (Y/n) says, he glanced at her, catching sight of her lust covered eyes, her lips slightly parted. “I’m just resting my hand on your knee.” He turns his attention back t the road as the light turns green. “Is it bothering you?” Her hand slowly inches up, stopping when she reached his mid-thigh.

“Don’t tease me like this,” Jimin says.

“Do you plan on pulling over and taking me in the backseat?” (Y/n) asks, his tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he thought about it before deciding against it.

“No, no,” Jimin says. “I would prefer if it was in our bedroom.” They approach another red light, a groan left his lips as he stops at the light. “Or in our kitchen, or the living room.” (Y/n) licks her lips as she thought about his suggestions.

“Bathroom?” (Y/n) asks.

“Everywhere.” Jimin answers after a moment. “I’d want to take you everywhere in the house.” (Y/n) nods her head as her mind wandered for a second.

“Is that your birthday wish?” (Y/n) asks. “Something you would like to do?” The light turns green and he begins driving once again, they were getting closer to their apartment, Jimin could feel his cock hardening as blood rushed downward, he didn’t dare glance at her this time, afraid he would lose control, afraid he wouldn’t look away from her.

“I have thought about it…” Jimin trails off.

“Mhm.” (Y/n) hums. “It is your birthday, Jimin.” Her eyes never left his face. “Take advantage of it, I’m prepared to give myself to you tonight, you can do whatever you want, whatever you please to do, wherever you want to do it, and if that includes the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom and the bathroom, so be it.” She could see him choke on the air he breathed in, shocked by her words. “But the offer expires at midnight, take it or leave it.” Her hand stayed on his thigh as they neared the apartment, once the engine was cut (Y/n) removed her hand and unbuckles her seatbelt before twisting in her seat to face him, the devious smirk form that morning back on her lips. “Where do you want me to wait for you?” Jimin removes the keys from the ignition and turns his face to look at her, his eyes wide and clouded with lust.

“Anywhere in the house?” Jimin asks, wanting to be sure before he would tell her, she nods her head causing him to lick his lips as he thought for a second, his mind creating all the possible scenarios in his mind, where they could start, which location would be next and where they would end the night. “Living room.”

“Any special requests?” (Y/n) asks as she placed her hand on the door handle. “This is about you, it should please you, it should make you happy, birthday boy.”

“Could you uh, wait for me in just the set you’re currently wearing?” Jimin asks, she nods her head and opens the car door.

“Of course I can.” (Y/n) says and steps out the car, closing the door and making her way into the apartment, she turns the lights on and begins discarding her shoes, leaving them next to the staircase before removing her top, dropping it by her shoes before discarding her skirt, she makes her way into the living room, unsure where he wanted her to wait for, she stood next to the couch waiting for him to appear, it didn’t take long before she heard the front door open and close a moment later before he appeared in the living room, his eyes locking with hers for a moment before moving over her body, the lingerie set fitting her perfectly, the lace fabric blocking her nipples, but he could clearly see that they were erect, his eyes move over her stomach, her skin looked so soft and warm, his eyes finally settle on her lace panties, hiding enough from him, but showing just enough to tease him.

“I wonder what I did to be blessed with you,” Jimin says. “You look incredibly beautiful in this set.” She licks her lips as she slowly approaches him.

“Well, come and take a seat, birthday boy.” (Y/n) says as she took hold of his hand and pulled him towards the couch. “Let me take care of you.”

“But I want to taste you first,” Jimin says. “You said I could do whatever I want with you, are you taking it back?” They stop in front of the couch and she turns to face him.

“You want a taste?” (Y/n) asks. “Where do you want me?” Pulling her close to him with the hand she was holding, her body fell into his and his lips brushes against hers, one hand moves to her hip, his fingers digging into her soft warm skin as their fingers interlaced for a moment, he moves them towards the couch, stopping once the back of her legs hits the couch, his hand releases hers and he placed it on her shoulder before breaking the kiss.

“I want you right here,” Jimin says as he pushes her to sit on the couch. “For now.” He lowers down to his knees in front of her, his hands moving to rest on her knees, the first thing she felt was the coldness from his rings as they came in contact with her skin. “At my mercy for the night.” She could feel heat rush down to her core as excitement coursed through her body, the way he spoke made her grow wet and the authority in his voice made her want to submit to him. “Are you okay with that little dove?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, afraid to talk, knowing her voice would falter. “Use your words.”

“I uh, yes.” (Y/n) whispers. “Yes.” A soft smile forms on his plump lips, he leans closer to her.

“Then be a good girl and lean back.” Jimin orders, she leans back against the back of the couch, her eyes watching him as she felt his fingers kneading into her skin above her knee, he spreads her legs apart and begins moving his hand up her thighs, his rings almost burning her skin as his touch left a burning trail behind, his hand move to the inside of her thighs, inching closer to her covered pussy, his fingers brush over the fabric before pressing the fabric along with his fingers between her swollen pussy lips, her lips parting as the rough fabric made contact with her sensitive clit, his eyes never leaving her as he watched her reaction, his fingers pressed against the fabric, feeling her wetness seeping through it and coating his fingers.

“Goddess, you’re already so wet,” Jimin says as she felt his finger moving the fabric over her clit. “Have you been thinking about this moment all day?” She could barely focus on what he was saying. “About my fingers inside you?” She could hear her heart rate in her ears. “About me touching you?” She tilts her head back. “No, no, I need you to look at me.” His fingers disappear from between her pussy lips, she bucks her hips trying to cause some friction with her panties, but his hands were quick to push her down. “No, no, don’t be naughty.” She could feel his fingers kneading the skin on her hips. “Look at me.” She lifts her head to look at him. “That’s better, now keep those pretty eyes on me.” His hands move towards the elastic of her thongs, curling his fingers around the fabric. “Lift your hips for me.” She obeys him and lifts her hips from the couch.

“Mhm.” (Y/n) softly moans as she felt the lace shift against her clit, he pulls the fabric down, his knuckles brushing over her skin. “Mhm.” She whimpers as she felt the fabric being pulled away from her clit, she lowers her hips once the fabric reached her knees and lifted her feet, allowing him to completely remove the thin lace fabric, he pushes it aside and wraps his hands around her ankles before sliding his hands upwards, a burning trail being left behind on her skin, his hands reach her knees and moves to her inner thighs, one hand stops while his other hand continued inching closer to her moist pussy, his fingers reach her pussy and runs his fingers over her pussy lips, he slips his fingers between them, his lingering beaming coated with her wetness as his ring grazed against her inner pussy lips.

“Mhm, so wet for me,” Jimin says as his fingers circled her clit before sliding to her opening, he watched her reaction as his fingers travelled back to her clit, she could feel a strong pull forming in her lower stomach as the tension started to build up, his fingers move back to her opening, dipping the tips of his fingers inside her before popping them back out and circled her opening, a third finger was added before he slipped his fingers inside her, curling them once they were deep enough, his thumb pressed against her clit as he extends his fingers, the feeling of the cold rings caused her to whimper and moan, he knew well enough that they drove her insane.

“Oh.” (Y/n) softly gasps as she felt his thumb slowly circling around her clit, his fingers continued to curl and extend inside her, her breathing picked up as her heart rate pounded loudly in her ears, she edged closer to her release, her body becoming a mess.

“Look at you,” Jimin says. “So vulnerable in front of me.” She wanted to squeeze her legs shut, but his body was positioned between them, keeping them open, her toes curl as her mind became clouded with the immense pleasure between her legs, her hands form into a first on the couch as heat slowly moved through her body.

“Ji-Jimin.” (Y/n) chokes out, he could feel her walls clenching around his fingers as her muscles spasms.

“Come for me,” Jimin says, his tone husky as he spoke. “Show me how pretty you are when you come undone, but keep those pretty eyes on me, don’t close them.” Almost as if a switch was flipped inside her, pleasure washed over her body as her legs shake with pleasure, her eyes fighting to stay open as her lips part.

“OH!” (Y/n) moans as his thumb continued to circle her clit, his fingers now slowly slipping in and out of her opening, helping her through her first high of the night, her toes slowly uncurl and her hands unclench as she slowly comes down from her high, her chest heaving up and down from her breathing, he slowly removes his fingers from her and pulls his hand away from her moist pussy.

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” Jimin says as he lifted his hand, showing her, his fingers and rings that were glistening with her wetness. “I should make you clean this up.” (Y/n) licks her lips as she etched him move his hand closer to his mouth. “But let me have a taste first.” His lips wrap around his fingers before slowly pulling them from his mouth, cleaning them, they exit his mouth with a loud pop, his eyes completely dark with lust as he stared at her. “You taste delicious.” He stood from the ground, (Y/n)’s eyes falling to the tent that has formed in his jeans, she sits up and reaches for his belt and begins unbuckling it. “Oh, so eager.” She lifts her head to look up at him as she pulls his belt from the loops, she drops it to the floor before standing form the couch, her legs feeling a little shaky as she did, but decided to ignore it, the space between them almost non-existent, she presses her lips against his, hungrily kissing him as her fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt, she lifts it upwards before breaking the kiss to remove the shirt. “Oh, now you’re becoming naughty and eager.”

“It’s your birthday, I’m supposed to be pleasuring you, not the other way around.” (Y/n) says as she leans closer to him, her lips brushing against his collarbone.

“But I’m having so much fun with you,” Jimin says, almost whining. “Just playing with you is already the best present, don’t spoil it by becoming eager for my cock.” she pulls her head away from his collarbone to look at him. “You’ll have your turn.” His hands reach for her hand. “Bedroom.” He takes a step back and pulls her with him as he guides them to the stairs, he stops in front of the steps, turning to her. “Ladies first.” As she begins to step past him to take the first step, he pulls her back. “No, wait, hold on.” He reaches behind her, quickly finding the clasp to her bra and unclasping it, it springs loose, freeing her breasts from its hold, he releases her hand and reaches for the straps, his fingers hooked around the straps and pulls them down her arms, she lifts her arms up in front of her allowing him to remove the bra from her arms, he drops the lace fabric by her shoes and clothes she had left by the staircase. “You can go ahead now.” She lowers her arms as she turns around and begins ascending the stairs, she could feel his eyes watching her with each step she took.

Once they reach the bedroom, she flips the lights on as he took her hold of her hand and led her to the bed. “In the middle.” He says as he releases her hand once they reached the bed. “And on your back.” She quickly climbs onto the bed and lays down on her back, he climbs onto the bed, lying down on his side next to her before leaning closer to her chest, he placed his hand on her stomach and slowly slides it upwards, almost caressing her body, the coolness from his rings causing goosebumps to rise on her skin, his head inching closer to her exposed chest, his eyes staring up at her as she stared down at him, his tongue slips out his mouth and touches her swollen breast, circling it around her erect nipple, his eyes never leaving hers as he does.

“Fuck, Jimin.” (Y/n) breathes out, his lips brush over her skin, placing a soft kiss next to her nipple before moving to her other breast, kissing the nipple before slowly running his tongue over the erect bud, his fingers slowly tracing patterns on her skin below her breast, he shifts on the bed, moving to hover above her as he leaves a trail of kisses down her stomach, stopping as he reached her mound.

“Lift your hips for me,” Jimin says, she felt something move down her side and realized it was a pillow, she lifts her legs and Jimin places the pillow underneath her bum before moving between her legs. “Put your legs over my shoulders.” She lifts her legs and places them over his shoulders, she could feel his breath blowing against her moist pussy, he turns his head to the side and presses a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh before moving his lips closer and closer to her pussy, she lifts her head, only seeing his hair between her legs.

“Fucking hell.” (Yn) breathes out, the sight of him between her legs driving her crazy, his lips brush against her pussy lips before she felt his tongue running along her pussy lips. “Fuck, Jimin.” His tongue slips between her pussy lips and slowly slides it to her opening, once his tongue reached her opening, he circled it around her entrance. “Ji-Jimin.” She could feel the tension slowly starting to build in her lower stomach, his tongue dips into her opening before he pulled it out and repeated the movement again. “Oh, oh.” Her skin felt on fire as a layer of sweat formed on her skin, he moves away from her opening and turns his focus to her clit, the tip of his tongue circling the sensitive nub. “Jimin, mhm.” The moans coming from her only motivated him more, his tongue gently licks over her clit, teasing her, her walls clenched around nothing as she was edging closer and closer to another release, she reaches down and runs her fingers through his hair. “Oh.” Her stomach muscles started twitching with pleasure.

“Mhm.” Jimin hums against her, the vibrations from his voice caused her to squeeze her eyes hut and pull at his air, his lips wrap around her sensitive clit.

“JIMIN!” (Y/n) shouts in pleasure, the sensation causing her immense pleasure causing her to scream, he gently sucks on it causing her toes to curl as her mind completely blacks out with pleasure, she releases hair and gripped the bedsheets, twisting the soft fabric between her fingers as her back arches from the bed. “JI-JIMIN!” Warmth started forming in the pit of her stomach. “I’m, oh, clot-close.” Her breathing was uneven and it felt like her heart was about to burst out her chest.

“Mhm-mhm.” Jimin hums against her clit, the tension inside her explodes and pleasure washes over her as she reaches her high, Jimin could feel her body quiver with pleasure as he continued to suck on her clit.

“JIMIN, OH, JI-JIMIN!” (Y/n) shouts in pleasure, hearing her shout his name out in pleasure made him smile as he releases her clit, he lifts his head to look at her as she gasped for air, bringing his hand to his mouth, he used his finger to wipe his lips clean, her eyes open halfway and stared at him as he did.

“You taste so good,” Jimin says as he stood from the bed, he reached for his jeans ad begins to unbutton and unzip them, (Y/n) pushes herself into a sitting position on the bed before shifting closer to the edge, pushing the pillow off the bed as she does, he bends down and removes his shoes and socks before standing up, (Y/n) reaches for his jeans, her fingers curl around the rough fabric before carefully tugging it down, she releases it when they reach his knees and moves her hands to his underwear, her fingers curling around the fabric before carefully pulling it down as well, his cock standing tall after being freed from the clothing, she pushes his underwear down along with his jeans until they reach his ankles, he steps out from them and uses his foot to push them aside, she took hold of his hand, pulling him closer to the bed.

“Come and lay down, let me please you.” (Y/n) says. “Let me give you a mind-blowing birthday present.” Jimin leans down, his eyes gazing into hers lovingly, his hand caressing her cheek.

“You’re already a wonderful present, (Y/n),” Jimin says before pecking her lips, he turns to move towards the nightstand, but she pulls on his arm, pulling him down on the bed next to her, she quickly moves and places her hand on his thigh and moves her head closer to his cock, she could see pre-cum dripping from the head causing her to lick her lips and glance up at him, he lifted his head from the bed to watch her, she wraps her lips around the tip and saw his eyes rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of her warm mouth wrapping around, she lowers her head, stopping once she had him halfway in her mouth before lifting her head. “Fuck, (Y/n)…” He lays his head down on the bed as he felt her lowering her head once again, only taking half of him in mouth before she lifted her head, his lips part as his breathing deepen, she unwraps her mouth and flattens her tongue against his length and slowly runs her tongue up and down him, her other hand reaches for his balls and gently started to knead them, knowing just how sensitive they were, her mouth moves away from his cock and towards his hip bone, she softly kisses the skin as her hand continues to slowly and carefully knead his balls, she was teasing him, building him up. “(Y/n).” He whines, wanting her mouth around his cock.

“Yes?” (Y/n) says, he lifts his head from the bed to look at her.

“Don’t tease me, it’s my birthday,” Jimin says in a whining tone, (Y/n) kisses his skin, moving towards his toned stomach. “You’re not being very nice to the birthday boy.” (Y/n) softly smiles before kissing down his stomach, her lips nearing his cock.

“So needy.” (Y/n) says before her lips brushed against the head of his cock before wrapping her lips around him, slowly taking his her mouth and gently squeezing his balls.

“FU- (Y/N)!” Jimin shouts at the sensation, her tongue swirls around the head of his cock as her hands knead his balls. “Fuck, (Y/n).” He presses his head against the bed, he was nearing his release, her hands softly kneading his balls and her tongue dipping in and out his slit. “Stop, stop!” Jimin suddenly says. “I want to be inside you!” (Y/n) releases his balls and slowly unwraps her lips from his cock with a soft popping sound, he releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding and runs his hand through his hair before turning towards the nightstand, he pulls the drawer open and takes out a small box and took out a packet, he tosses the box back into the drawer and closes it, he tears the packet open and takes the condom out form it before placing the empty packet on the nightstand, he sits up and places the condom over the head of his cock, pinching the tip of the condom before rolling it over his length, (Y/n) lays back on the bed as he rolled the condom over his cock, he climbs on top of her and reaches between them, wrapping his hand around his cock he sips his length between her pussy lips, coating the condom with her wetness as he moves the head of his cock to her opening, he pushes the head of his cock inside her before unwrapping his hand and placing it on the bed, he leans down and brushes his lips against her, passionately kissing her as his cock sinks into her, stretching her walls and filling her with his cock.

“Mhm.” (Y/n) whimpers in his mouth at the pleasurable feeling of his cock filling her, once he was inside her, she lifted her legs from the bed and wrapped them around his waist, they pull away from the kiss as their lungs slowly ran out of air, the air surrounding them felt warm causing sweat to coat their skin, he begins to pull out of her, stopping until just the head of his cock remained inside her before snapping his hips forward, pushing back into her, filling her once again. “Mhm.” He repeated the movement, pulling out until just the head of his cock remained before thrusting back into her.

“You feel so good around me.” Jimin breathes out. “So tight, fuck, you feel so good.” The room quickly became filled with their breathy moans and the sinful sound of her wetness each time he thrusts in and out of her, her arms lazily wrap around his shoulders as he nuzzles his face against her neck, his lips attaching to the skin as he sucks on it, creating a mark as he slips his cock in and out of her, she could feel a familiar tension forming in her lower stomach, her walls clenched around his cock, milking him for an orgasm.

“Mhm.” (Y/n) whimpers at the intense pleasure coursing through her body, she felt her muscles contracting as she neared her high. “Fuck, Jimin.” She could feel the bedsheets sticking to her skin as it dampens form the sweat, Jimin lifts his head, admiring the mark he left on her neck.

“If you keep clenching around me I’m not going to last long.” Jimin breathes out.

“I’m close, Jimin.” (Y/n) breathes out, she had become sensitive after already experiencing two orgasms.

“Don’t hold back, come for me,” Jimin says, encouraging her to release around his cock, her toes curl in pleasure as one hand entangles with his hair, warmth envelops her as her body quivers with intense pleasure, Jimin could feel her walls clenching around him as she neared closer to her release.

“Ji-Jimin.” (Y/n) breathes out as pleasure washes over her, the tension in her lower stomach exploding and her mind becoming fogged app as she releases around his cock, her eyes fall shut and her lips part, Jimin could only watch as she reaches her high, as she came undone underneath him, quivering with pleasure.

“Fuck.” Jimin groans out as he felt his cock twitch inside her before warmth travelled through his body, his thrusts became irregular and sloppy as he inches closer to the point of no return, it suddenly felt like a burst of energy in his cock as he releases himself in the condom, all the energy draining from his body as he filled the condom with his load, his thrusts slowed down before he came to a halt inside her, their breathing filling the room as things settled between them, they stared into each other’s eyes not saying a word, enjoying the silent moment for a second, no words needed to be said at that moment, he slowly pulls his cock out from her opening and carefully climbs off her before falling down on to the bed next to her, she turns onto her side, feeling her own orgasm spilling from her, she placed a hand on his chest, he looks down at her, softly smiling at her. “Would you like me to run you a bath?”

“Mh, that sounds really good right now.” (Y/n) says. “But first, tell me.” She props herself up on her elbow. “How did you like your birthday present?” She was worried that she didn’t please him enough, he did make her orgasm 3 times when she should have been the one to please and pleasure him.

“I love my birthday present,” Jimin says. “I’m absolutely in love with my gift.” He sits up and climbs off the bed. “I couldn’t have asked for better.” He carefully removes the condom before trying it and tossing it into the trash, he walks towards the bathroom and turns the lights on as he entered, he approaches the large bathtub and begins filling the tub with water, he leaves the bathroom and made his way back to the bed. “Let me help you.” Her legs still felt numb from the orgasms, she sits up and moves to stand from the bed, he wraps his arms around her and helps her to stand before helping her to the bathroom.

“Hey, I should be cleaning you.” (Y/n) says in a teasing tone.

“For the love of it, (Y/n), let me take care of you on my birthday,” Jimin says causing her to softly giggle. “I appreciate that you want to take care of me, and make me feel good, but If I’m not going to clean up the mess I made, then I’m not a very good boyfriend.”

“You’re the best boyfriend, Jimin.” (Y/n) says. “Which is why I love you.” Jimin lifts his head to stare at her, it was the first time she had said it, the first time in their relationship.

“You love me?” Jimin softly asks, (Y/n) nods her head as they enter the bathroom.

“I do.” (Y/n) says. “I love you very much.”

“Goddess, I love you too, so much.”

[drakewalkerfantasy]

Show me the stars. (Eleventh Doctor x Clara Oswald)

A Doctor Who fanfiction for sequel to Giving in.

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x Clara Oswald

Not sure if anyone would be interested, but thank you to my lovely and amazing and very supportive friend @choices-bound​ for your support. And also to @jamespotterthefirst who I hope didn’t mind all sneak peaks I send her. And tolerated my pleads to have a look and check if it seems okay.

I will tag some followers. Not sure if interested, but let me know if you do or if not, so I wouldn’t tag you in future fics for Clara and Eleventh. Comments are very appreciated.

**Warnings: slightly angsty ending / SMUTTY / 18+ / NSFW / MATURE**

Jealousy is one of the most powerful feelings in the universe. The one that makes one make rush decisions. Decisions that can be regretted afterward if acted upon them. And this time wasn’t an exception, no matter how hard Doctor tried to convince himself otherwise. The decision was rush, but the one he couldn’t regret even if he would try to. And he knew by the way Clara’s body responded to his touch, that she will not regret it either. His eyes, the ones that saw the universe born and burn, looked at her as if she was the only precious thing he ever witnessed. His face, so young and so new, hovered over hers, and his soul older than a thousand years reached out to hers connecting with hers. With the one, whose soul was as old as his without even realising it... his impossible girl. He murmured on Gallifreyan, brushing his lips lightly over hers, their eyes still connected, and their souls intertwined. The flashes of past lives rushing through them in glimpses, connecting them in the way they didn’t expect. And yes, this time, he did regret nothing. No matter, how short-lived their happiness would be... no matter, that this was spurted by the feeling of jealousy... The Doctor couldn't make himself to regret it, even knowing that their love story would always end the same way... with him losing her for good.

But he still didn’t regret it... Not when he kissed Clara senselessly against the console, capturing her lips with his. Not when his arms moved up her thighs tearing her little tight skirt apart. Not when he was between her legs stroking his thumb across her sensitive flesh, drinking her juices. Yes, he definitely didn’t regret that. And when the trembling in her body finally subsided he didn’t regret what was about to come next. He didn’t regret picking her up with her legs wrapped around his waist and carrying her to his bedroom. And he didn’t regret finally giving in. Giving in to his Clara. To his impossible... perfect girl. To the one who always saved him... the one who made him feel again. And to the one, whose soul was as old as his. As she made him... unknowingly she made him the Doctor. The Doctor who has saved Gallifrey.

Clara hissed when they stumbled into his room bumping into the door jamb.

“Sorry...,” mumbled the Doctor, cursing his current body for the lack of coordination. Feeling how her hands grabbed his shoulders for better support and the balls’ of her feet dug into his backside even firmer. Their lips connected once again in a passionate kiss. His hand roaming over her back while trying to navigate them toward the bed. His legs stumbled on the edge of it and he cursed, feeling how his legs gave up and he let go of Clara’s body letting her fall on the mattress bouncing slightly of it. His body following hers just a second later, stretching his arms forward to prevent his body from crushing hers.

“Sorry... I’m sorry...,” he panted between frenzied kisses as his lips and hands started to explore her. His body rocking along hers making her feel how much he desired her. Making her feel how much he craved her. Her hands reached for his waistcoat taking it off and throwing it to the floor. The bow tie and his shirt following suit. Her lips silencing his apologies with a fierce kiss, while his hands blindly fumbling with the buttons of her almost see-through blouse. Not able to hold the groan when her hands reached the zipper of his trousers brushing his bulge slightly with the tips of her fingers. He could feel how she pressed her palm against his length before finally undoing the button and dragging the zipper down. The tantalisingly slow way she did it made him groan impatiently. And his hands made the desperate attempt to take her blouse off, leaving even less clothing between them. Making her gasp when his hands pulled hard on the material tearing the buttons off it and finally exposing her body.

She moaned when his lips moved lower from hers kissing every inch of her exposed skin until it reached her heaving bosoms making her forget for a moment what she was doing and how desperately she wanted him out of his clothes. The tips of his fingers grazed the soft skin of her globes, while his mouth expertly alternated between two peaks. Sucking and licking on them, while his fingers flicked them lightly, making Clara arch her back with a silent cry.

She could feel how his movements became more desperate and erratic. His hardened length straining painfully against the material of his pants. His breath ragged and heavy left a trail of goosebumps on her bare skin. And his kisses rougher and fiercer, which was enough for her to tug desperately on his pants, trying to pull them off Doctor’s body. With the smirk touching his lips, but not breaking kissing, sucking, and licking on her sensitive peaks he lifted his hips, helping her to take his trousers off and kicking them away. His fingers lightly tickling the sides of her breasts before caressing around her soft firm globes and moving toward the front of her body. His lips running up to meet hers in a kiss that was fuelled by the passion and possessiveness they both felt. Drowning out the hoarse moans, when his fingers reached their destination. Delicately running them through her folds. His touch opposite to the rough and fiery kisses. His tongue seeking for the entrance that was granted willingly, when Clara opened her lips curling her tongue around his with a throaty moan. His long finger dragging up from her entrance to the sensitive nub, making her hips jerk from the tantalisingly slow-motion. Wanting him. Craving to have more of him.

“Please...,” she uttered finally when sensation became too much to handle. Her voice, borderline with plea and desperation. Her hand pulling him to her even closer, her hips jerked up, while her nails left a half moons crescendo in his shoulders. Whimpering when his fingers stopped in mid-motion and he broke their kiss. Eyes dark with desire met hers. Holding so much fierce, but also something else... something more... something she was too afraid to admit she was seeing in the depth of his gaze... something she was afraid he would never admit himself. Something so deep and pure that it frightened her but nevertheless excited. Making her ready to take a leap. Ready to have at least the part of him she could, even if it meant their hearts would be broken later. “Please...,” she whimpered, lifting her hips up, making him groan when her wetness slid against his unbearably hard length still trying to hold back and not to pounce on her. Not to thrust so deep and so hard that she would see the stars. The ones he will want to promise her so many years in the future. Still holding back, wanting to make sure that this is what she really wanted. Wanting her to know the depth of his feelings for her, but also the inevitable heartache that will follow later if they will give in.

“Are you sure?” he croaked. His voice almost a growl, low and husky. His eyes almost pitch black, the forest green taken over by dilated pupils. And his hands braced against the soft mattress, the fist resting just above her right shoulder. His trembling body lifted just above hers so he could look her straight into her eyes to make sure that whatever her reply will be this exactly what she would want. His right hand starting to move. The pad of his thumb drawing light but insistent circles around her clit, another lone finger dragged through her soaking folds. But his gaze not wavering from hers, waiting for her reply with a bated breath, searching her gaze for any single sign of doubt or hesitation. Wanting to give her the most unforgettable pleasure she ever had, but at the same time not wanting to push her further unless she was hundredth percent sure that this what she really wanted... that he was exactly who she wanted. “Are you sure?” he repeated his question in a gentle murmur, resting his forehead against hers. His gaze still locked on hers, knowing her answer even before she managed to say the words.

“Please... show me the stars,” she whispered in a husky voice with the most breathtaking look in her eyes. The look that held no hesitation, and not a single sign of doubt he was so afraid to meet. The look that held so much feeling that he was sure that he stopped breathing, not able to truly believe that look was for him... not fully sure that he was worthy of this look in her eyes. Her hand reached for his hardened length, positioning him at her entrance. Her other hand placed firmly at the back of his head, while her fingers dug in his thick hair and her lips crushed with his, at the same time as he thrust deep inside Clara. The groan of pleasure left his throat mixing with the soft moan of Clara's when she felt the tip of Doctor's hard length brushing against her sweet spot deep inside her. Holding there until he felt her hips lift encouraging him to move inside her, making him purr when he slipped even further inside her warmth before leaving her body. Hesitantly starting to move in and out at a slow pace, listening to her body’s response every time he thrust gently inside her. Rocking into her with slow, deep strokes, their bodies perfectly fit together, skin touching skin. His thrusts becoming more sure and precise, more sharp and hard every time their bodies connected anew. His movements becoming faster with each thrust of his hips, while their lips remained connected in a fiery kiss. His tongue coiling around Clara's, while he drowned the most delicious sounds from her lips that he ever heard. Nothing that he witnessed in a whole universe could even remotely compete with the sounds he elicited from her. 

“Faster...,” gasped Clara, clawing onto his back, leaving red marks on his skin. She threw her head back with a cry of pleasure, feeling how his lips moved along her long neck leaving open-mouthed kisses.

And for a few long and delicious moments there was nothing else left except of the heavy breaths and a pounding of their hearts, mixed with the slapping of their bodies, while the pleasure built deep inside them ready to explode as a thousand rainbows of ecstasy.

Clara felt it first when the coil builded deep inside her belly ready to snap at any moment, her pulse quickened and she could swear that she could see the stars exploding in front of her eyes. Crying out, when she felt the waves of ecstasy washing over her, leaving her breathless, while Doctor still moved inside her in incredulous speed. Her chocolate coloured hair spraid over a pillow, and her head thrown back. His hips snapping faster and faster, his eyes fixed on her not able to look away as if she would be the most beautiful creature in a whole universe and when she cried out his name he couldn't hold anymore longer. Exploding deep inside her belly with the guttural growl.

After the trembling in their bodies finally subsided, they layed together in the tight embrace, listening to each other heavy breathing. The soft blush touching their faces and they averted their eyes shyly before sneaking a quick glance at each other at the same time. The soft chuckle leaving their lips before meeting in a soft kiss. The kiss, that hold a promise. The promise to finally give in to the feelings that was mirrored in each other eyes.

They kissed slowly, devouring each other and pouring unspoken words into that kiss. The words that weren’t needed when they lips have been meeting like that. The words that weren’t needed when their bodies connected, joining them as one. The words that would be lost in a mix of soft moans and gasps, when the act wasn’t passionate or carnal. But instead soft and gentle, when the love was pouring in every movement they made, much stronger than any words could ever express what they felt. The soft brush of their lips. The featherlight strokes of their fingers. The quietest moans that were elicited from the depth of their hearts. And the pleasure that was rolling in waves, taking their breath away. The love in their eyes shining brighter than any star they ever seen. The love that they will bring through years and different centuries, through Universe and different Galaxies. The love that will bring life and unite forever. The love that will be fierce, and the one that will never die even when one of the hearts will stop beating.

It was years later, when they set off for their last adventure. From the one she never came back, dying on the pavement of Victorian London after saving his life as she was born to do. Dying while he cradled her in his arms, watching how the life was creeping slowly out of her body, leaving him alone with the hearts that were never the same again. Dreading the day when he would meet her again. Not her... he corrected himself looking at the gray gravestone in front of him. Dreading the day when she casually would pass by him, not recognising him... not knowing him yet... Not her... he whispered grazing his fingertips over her faded name. The flowers in his hand, the golden band on his finger and the young chocolate haired girl with a forest green eyes by his side. The only reminder of their love. Standing there with their daughter by his side, dreading the day when he will see Clara once again. Not her... Not her... Not her... he stubbornly muttered, tears welling in his eyes and he angrily swallowed them back. The pain so huge that he was ready to scream at the universe. Ready to jump into their TARDIS and never come back... Trying to remind himself, that even if he would meet Clara one day it will be not her. While she... the real she, will be laying here in the cold grave. And the woman he would meet will be just a cruel reminder of the woman he once loved. The one, he will always love. The one, who wasn’t an echo.

Tagging: @choices-bound​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @the-soot-sprite​ @annekebbphotography​