#i want them to act as lovers in a whole variety of settings though~~~~~~ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years

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Trying Something New - Fred Weasley

Title: Trying Something New Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Warning: NSFW!! Dom/sub, daddy kink, male receiving oral, dirty talk, teasing, pet names, sex toys, overstimulation, unprotected sex, after care Summary: Fred and the reader decide it’s time to spice things up in the bedroom A/N: this is for @le-weasley-simp who wanted some kink exploration and an anon who wanted some dom!Fred with daddy kink!! This is mostly just smut but if you look hard enough there’s some plot I guess haha. Feedback is always welcome!!

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“What do you think of this one?” Y/N asks, holding up another bra for Fred to examine. It’s a deep purple color with a little lace detailing on the cups. When all Fred does is shrug Y/N sighs and puts the bra down. “What’s wrong with you? We’re surrounded by lingerie and you’re acting like we’re at the dentist’s office.”

“I dunno, I thought shopping for lingerie would be more exciting, and sexy,” Fred sighs, looking around the store. “But in reality it’s pretty boring.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Well if you would pick out some stuff you like I could try it on for you, Freddie. But if you’d rather just go and do something else I can meet back up with you later.”

“Try it on for me?” Fred asks, perking up. “Why didn’t you start with that, love? Wait here, I’ll be back.”

Y/N shakes her head fondly with a chuckle as she watches Fred move around the store. He starts to eagerly grab a few things off of the shelves, clearly more interested in their shopping trip than he had been before. This shopping trip is the first part in their journey to get a bit more adventurous in the bedroom. Their sex life is far from vanilla, but both Fred and Y/N expressed interest in taking their activities to the next level. So they decided they’d spend the day out in muggle London to do some shopping for some supplies that will hopefully turn things up a notch in the bedroom.

When Fred comes back to where Y/N is standing a few minutes later, he has quite a few things in his hands and there’s a cheeky grin on his face. He shoves them all into her arms before ushering Y/N towards the dressing room. “Go, go, go. I’ll wait out here.” Fred takes a seat on the chair outside the dressing room, giving her a wink. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

“Okay, okay. Keep it in your pants, Freddie,” Y/N teases before closing the curtain behind herself. She hangs up the few things Fred had shoved into her arms, deciding to try on some of the bras first. She gets her top half undressed before grabbing the first thing her hand lands on. She slips it on, before turning to look at herself in the mirror.

It’s a deep red color that compliments her skin tone perfectly, and it’s completely made of lace. It plunges low, so her cleavage is on full display, and her nipples are visible through the sheer fabric. She adjusts it so it fits just right before turning around and opening the curtain up. “Thoughts?”

Fred’s eyes widen and he bites his lip to keep from moaning. He lets his eyes rake over Y/N’s body, focusing on the way the fabric clings to the curve of her breasts. “Oh I have many thoughts and none of them are appropriate enough to be said out loud right now.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she shuts the curtain. She takes the bra off carefully and sets it aside for her to buy. She tries the next few bras on, showing each one to Fred, but they don’t quite elicit the same reaction as the first one. Fred had picked out two fuller pieces as well, and Y/N turns to those next.

The first one is sheer with some lace detailing throughout, with high cut leg holes that leave most of her sides bare. It’s high cut up the back as well, and if Y/N didn’t still have her panties on practically her whole ass would be hanging out. Y/N sticks just her head out of the curtain, so she can beckon Fred closer. “Come here, I don’t wanna expose my entire ass to the store.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Fred gets up and stands in front of the curtain, blocking the rest of the store from view. “Come on then, let’s have a look.”

“It’ll look a bit weird since I still have my underwear one, but I’m sure you can use your imagination to picture what it’ll look like when I’m naked.” Y/N opens the curtain fully then for Fred to see what she’s wearing, suddenly feeling embarrassed under his intense gaze.

“Jesus,” Fred groans, reaching out to touch Y/N’s thighs. He lets his eyes slowly roam over her body, memorizing every inch of skin. “If you don’t buy that I will never, ever, ever forgive you, Y/N. I’m serious. If we were allowed to use magic around muggles I’d be casting a few spells and taking you right here in this dressing room.”

“Fred,” Y/N scolds, before pulling him into a brief kiss. “Okay go sit back down, lover boy. I’ll try the last one on and then we can head to the next store.” Y/N shuts the curtain again and gets undressed, placing the black piece with the red bra she tried on earlier. She slips into the white piece quickly, taking a few moments to admire herself in the mirror. This one is less revealing, yet somehow feels sexier to her. The material is lace, but not only sheer in the areas that sprawl over her stomach and the leg holes are only cut a smidge higher than a normal pair of underwear, leaving much of her sides and ass covered. But the neckline is a plunging halter top, which leaves much of her breasts exposed.

Y/N opens the curtain, giving a little twirl for Fred. “You like?” she asks.

Fred nods wildly. “Very much. You look so sexy in white, Y/N. So innocent, yet so dirty at the same time. You’re driving me wild, baby.”

“No need to lay it on so thick, Freddie. I already agreed to sleep with you,” she teases. “Now go wait outside. I don’t want you to see what I buy so it’ll be a surprise.”

Fred gets up and comes to stand in the doorway of the dressing room, pressing a brief kiss to Y/N’s lips. “Such a tease, Y/N.” Fred pulls his wallet out of his pocket and places it into her hand. “Whatever you want is on me, baby. Okay? I’m spoiling you today.” Back when Y/N and Fred first got together during their Hogwarts years he used to dream about the day he’d have enough money to shower Y/N in presents and treat her like the Queen she is. Now that those days are finally here he takes every opportunity to spoil her, whether she likes it or not.

“Freddie,” Y/N responds before kissing him again. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to.” Fred winks at her. “And this way I don’t feel as bad when I inevitably destroy something ripping it off of your hot body.”

Y/N closes the curtain on Fred then, shaking her head as she listens to him laugh as he walks away. She gets redressed quickly, holding the three things she plans on purchasing in her hand. Y/N walks towards the till slowly, grabbing a few pairs of underwear on her way, including a red lace thong that will go perfectly with the bra Fred had picked out. Once her purchase has been made Y/N heads out of the store and meets back up with Fred.

“All set?” he asks, wrapping an arm around her waist. When Y/N nods he grins. “Perfect. To the sex shop we go!”

“Who knew there are so many kinds of dildos?” Fred muses as he stares at a wall covered top to bottom in different dildos. “I mean so many different colors, and shapes, and sizes. It’s truly remarkable,” he comments, turning to look at Y/N. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah sure, Freddie,” Y/N giggles. The basket in her hand is already quite full of a few things, but Fred insisted that a trip to the sex shop wouldn’t be complete without getting a new dildo. Y/N is quite familiar with a variety of different sex toys, many of them having been gifts from Fred, but those are tucked away in her bedside drawer for her to use on her own when Fred isn’t around. This is the first time they’re picking out toys to use together, and Y/N would be lying if she said it wasn’t turning her on.

Fred wraps his arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her close to his side. “Any one in particular catch your eye, love?” He leans over to whisper in her ear. “It’s your pussy it’ll be buried in after all.”

A shiver runs down Y/N’s spine right to her core and she lets her eyes roam over the wall. There truly is a wide variety of dildos, and some even scare her a little bit. She turns to Fred and presses a kiss to his cheek. “You know what I like, Freddie. You pick one out, surprise me.” Y/N hands him the basket and gives Fred a stern look. “Don’t make me regret that decision, Fred.”

“Have I ever given you a sex toy you didn’t like?” he asks. “You’re in good hands baby. I promise.” Fred waits until Y/N has left the store before he grabs the dildo of his choice, making sure to grab a few extra things on his way to the checkout counter.

Y/N examines herself in the mirror, wiping her sweaty palm off on her bare thigh. She’s standing in her and Fred’s bathroom wearing nothing but the lacy red bra and thong she’d purchased earlier that day. Even though Fred has seen her in far less clothing, she can feel nervous butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. Something about exploring new things with Fred has her feeling like a virgin all over again, nervous and unsure what to expect. Y/N had been mostly hands off when deciding what new things to explore, leaving the decisions to Fred. She trusts Fred with her life, but the uncertainty of where the evening is going to take them is making her a weird combination of excited and turned on.

“I’m ready when you are, baby,” Fred calls from the other side of the door.

Y/N takes a deep breath, before she opens the bathroom door and steps into their bedroom. Fred is sitting on the end of their bed in just his boxers, leaning back on his hands. She can tell that he’s already hard, and arousal starts to blossom in her stomach.

“Baby, you look ravishing,” Fred comments, letting his eyes take in every inch of her body. The red looks amazing on her, and the skimpy fabric leaves much of her skin bare, just how Fred likes it. Y/N’s hands move to cover herself up, and Fred drags his gaze away from her bare thighs so he can make eye contact with her. “Come on, Y/N. Be a good girl, let me see you.”

Y/N blushes and clasps her hands behind her back, so Fred can see all of her. His voice is deep and firm, and it puts her at ease. Fred dominating her is familiar, and it quiets the butterflies in her stomach. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Good girl,” Fred praises. “Now turn around for me, I want to see all of you.” Fred bites his lip as Y/N turns around, his eyes immediately drawn to her ass. “So pretty, baby. Do you like getting all dressed up for me?”

“Yes sir.” Y/N’s skin is burning from Fred’s intense gaze and she can feel the blush that’s creeping down her neck to her chest.

“Turn around,” Fred demands, smirking when Y/N instantly faces him again. “Listening so good tonight, baby. I might not even have to get that brand new paddle we bought earlier.”

Y/N shivers at the thought of Fred using a paddle to spank her. She’s no stranger to the feeling of Fred’s hand swatting her on the ass, but it’s usually purely for pleasure purposes, never to punish. And the thought of Fred taking her across his lap and spanking her until she cries makes her core throb.

Fred starts to palm himself through his boxers, trying to decide what to do next. “Get on your knees, kitten.”

The nickname is new, and it makes Y/N’s core throb as she drops down to her knees. “Yes, Daddy.” Y/N’s eyes widen, and she looks up at Fred. It’s always sir or master when he dominates her, never Daddy. They’ve never talked about it before and Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t eager to say it again.

“What did you call me?” Fred asks, wanting to make sure he heard her right. He tries to keep his tone even so that Y/N doesn’t think he’s angry with her.

“Daddy.”

Fred’s cock twitches at the name and he has to bite his tongue to stifle a groan. “Get over here, kitten and suck Daddy’s cock.”

“Yes Daddy,” Y/N answers as she crawls over to Fred. She immediately settles in between his spread thighs and pulls his boxers down to his ankles, freeing his cock. One of her hands wraps around the base as she takes the head into her mouth, sucking on it gently. Fred’s moans encourage her to keep going, and Y/N starts to slowly move her head down, taking more of Fred into her mouth and down her throat.

Fred groans as Y/N’s lips squeeze around his cock, and he gathers her hair up into a ponytail. It’s a warning, that if she isn’t a good girl for him he’ll have to fuck her throat so hard she can’t speak tomorrow, and as she starts to slowly pull her head back Fred gives her hair a light tug. “Don’t be naughty, kitten. You know how Daddy likes to have his cock sucked.”

Y/N moans around Fred and starts to bob her head faster. Her hand twists at the part of his cock she can’t fit into her mouth, and she lets her tongue rub at the vein on the underside of his cock. Y/N’s hand starts to stroke him as she pulls off to allow her mouth to pay extra attention to the head. She looks up at Fred under her eyelashes as her tongue starts to lick and flick at just the tip, gathering up the precum that has started to bubble out.

“That’s it,” Fred moans. “Being such a good girl, kitten. That pretty little mouth of yours was made for Daddy’s cock wasn’t it?” Y/N moans as she swallows him down again, causing Fred’s hips to twitch, forcing himself a little deeper down her throat. “Where should Daddy shoot his first load, kitten? All over your pretty tits? Or do you wanna swallow it, like the little cum slut you are.”

Fred’s dirty talk is sending shocks of pleasure right to her core, and Y/N has to clench her free hand to resist the urge to start touching herself. She isn’t allowed to touch without Fred’s permission, and if she does he’ll spend the rest of the evening edging her but never allowing her to finish. After a few more bobs of her head Y/N pulls off, stroking Fred slowly, changing the pressure of her grip as she does. “Want it in my mouth, Daddy. Please.” Y/N presses a few kisses to the tip of Fred’s cock, before taking him back down her throat.

“Of course, kitten. How could Daddy say no when you ask so nicely?” Under normal circumstances Fred would keep Y/N on her knees for him for the better part of an hour, not only for his pleasure, but hers’ as well. The longer Fred waits to finally touch Y/N the more intense her orgasms are, and their sex is much more enjoyable for Fred when Y/N is screaming his name. Fred starts to thrust his hips gently to meet Y/N’s movements and his grip on her hair tightens when she moans around him again.

Y/N takes a deep breath and relaxes her throat, before moving her head until her nose touches the skin just above Fred’s cock. The tip of his cock hits the back of her throat and she gags around him. A few tears leak from her eyes and saliva starts to drip down her chin, but she stays there for a few moments before pulling back to wrap her tongue around the head and suck. She tilts her head back slightly so Fred can look at the mess she’s becoming, before she takes him all the way back down again.

Fred moans as Y/N gags again, the image of his cock between her red, swollen lips with drool dripping down her chin and tears leaking down her face still fresh in his mind. “Fucking hell, kitten. You sound so pretty choking on my cock. You like the way it fills up your mouth, don’t you?” Y/N hums as her lips reach the tip of his cock and Fred lets out a deep groan. “Daddy’s getting close, kitten. Gonna shoot into your pretty mouth so you can swallow it down just like you asked. Being such a good girl for me already. I bet your pussy is already dripping just from having my cock in your mouth. You’re such a little cock slut, aren’t you kitten? You always need Daddy’s cock filling you up, isn’t that right? Nothing makes you cum as hard as Daddy’s cock does, right kitten?”

Y/N moans as she continues to take Fred’s cock all the way down her throat, letting herself gag for a moment before pulling back and repeating the process. She can feel Fred twitching against her tongue, a telltale sign that he’s on the verge of climaxing. Y/N focuses on the feel of his cock in her mouth to keep her mind away from her pussy and the way it pulsates. Fred has somehow managed to talk dirtier than normal, and each word that comes out of his mouth goes right to her core.

“Oh fuck, kitten. Such a good little cock slut. Love the way you gag on my cock.” Fred pulls Y/N off of him slightly, and shallowly thrusts his hips a few times as he feels himself about to cum. “Here it comes, kitten such a good girl. Making Daddy cum from just your mouth.” Fred lets out a long groan as he reaches his climax, his hips twitching as his cock releases thick ropes of cum onto Y/N’s tongue and down her throat. He grabs Y/N’s jaw as he slowly pulls out to keep her mouth open. “Let me see your tongue, kitten. Daddy wants to see how pretty it looks with all of his cum on it.”

Y/N looks up at Fred and sticks her tongue out. Once Fred releases her jaw she swallows his release, before opening her mouth again, allowing Fred to see that it’s all gone. “Did I do good, Daddy?”

Fred nods, and uses his thumb to wipe away the drool on her chin. “So good, kitten.” Y/N shivers at his praise, and Fred cups her cheek. “Always my good girl, kitten. Such a good mouth, always sucking me so well. And you look so pretty with my cock between your lips, kitten. That mouth was made to suck Daddy’s cock, wasn’t it?”

Y/N nods, preening under Fred’s praise. “Yes, Daddy. Made just for you. I love sucking your cock, Daddy. Thank you for letting me suck you off and swallow your load.”

“You’re welcome, kitten.” Fred pats his thighs to give Y/N permission to sit on his lap, and he chuckles as she scrambles off of the floor to straddle his waist. This is the first time he’s touched her all night, and he lets his hands run down her back, over her bum to her thighs, before following the same trail back up. “Daddy’s gonna touch your pussy now, kitten. But you’re gonna be a good girl and not move. Right?”

Y/N places her hands on Fred’s shoulders and digs her fingers in as she nods. “Yes, Daddy. Always your good girl, promise.”

Fred moves Y/N’s thong to the side and lets two of his fingers massage her wet folds, just barely brushing her clit. “Wow, kitten. So fucking wet already just from having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.” Fred sinks one of his fingers into her heat, just letting it sit there. When Y/N remains still in his lap he smiles and starts to slowly fuck her with the digit. “Good girl, kitten. Daddy is so proud of you.”

“T-thank you, Daddy,” Y/N stutters as his finger curls inside her. Fred’s moving at a frustratingly slow pace, but with how turned on she is Y/N figures she could probably cum just from this one finger alone. “Can I have more, Daddy? Please?”

Fred pulls his hand away from her core, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s neck when she whines. “How about we get one of the new toys Daddy bought you, kitten? Would you like that?”

“Yes please, Daddy. Thank you Daddy. I love you.”

Fred pulls their mouths together in a slow kiss, his hands gripping her thighs as he stands up. He places Y/N down on the bed gently and pulls away. He chuckles when Y/N pouts at him, and he presses a few quick kisses to her lips. “I love you too, kitten. Now lay back on the bed for Daddy, okay?” Fred waits for her to get into position before he walks over to their dresser where a few of the toys he’d purchased earlier are sitting. He had hoped Y/N would be a bit naughty so he could try out the paddle, but he’ll have to save that for another time. He settles on the new pink vibrator Y/N had picked out. It’s not as long or as thick as Fred, but it’ll be a nice warm up for his cock.

“Here,” Fred says as he reapproaches the bed, handing the toy to Y/N. Instead of rejoining her on the bed, Fred grabs the chair from the corner of their room and placed it at the foot of the bed. It gives him the perfect view of Y/N and what she’s about to do for him.

Y/N swallows thickly as she examines the toy. Her pussy is throbbing with the need to be filled, so much so that it takes her a few seconds to notice that Fred hasn’t rejoined her on the bed. “Daddy,” she whines, propping herself up on an elbow to look at Fred. “You’re too far away.”

“Don’t worry, kitten. Daddy’s right here. He’ll join you in a bit.” Fred bites his lip, his cock twitching at how unbelievably sexy Y/N is. “Tonight is all about trying new things, right kitten?” When Y/N nods he continues. “Well tonight Daddy is giving you permission to touch yourself. I wanna watch you fuck yourself with that pretty pink vibrator, okay? And once you’ve come all over it, Daddy will come back and touch you. Sound good, kitten?”

“Yes, Daddy. Thank you Daddy.” Y/N keeps herself propped up on her elbow so Fred can watch as she takes the vibrator into her mouth, sucking on it just like she’d sucked on Fred earlier. Once it’s wet she pulls it out of her mouth with a pop and turns it on to its lowest setting. She trails it down her chest to her breast, moaning as the vibration stimulates her nipple. If she were alone Y/N wouldn’t bother with the theatrics, she’d just go right for fucking herself on the toy. But she wants to put on a show for Fred.

“Oh Daddy,” she moans as she moves the vibrator to the other nipple. She makes direct eye contact with Fred as she starts to trail the vibrator down her stomach towards her core. She takes a moment to push the fabric of her thong aside, before she presses the tip of the vibrator against her clit. It sends shockwaves of pleasure through her body and her hips jut up as she whines.

“Feel good?” Fred asks, his eyes trained on Y/N’s dripping core. He can already feel himself getting hard again, and he starts to slowly stroke himself with a loose fist.

“So good, Daddy,” Y/N moans, turning up the vibrator up one notch. She presses it against her clit harder, her head tossing back as she groans.

“Does it feel better than Daddy’s fingers?” When Y/N shakes her head, he chuckles. “What about his mouth?”

“No, Daddy,” Y/N pants as she starts to tease her entrance with the tip of the toy. “Nothing feels better than your mouth.” Y/N starts to slowly push the toy into her, her walls clenching around it and sucking the toy in further. “Oh fuck,” Y/N moans, pushing the toy in as far as it can go.

Fred squeezes his cock, biting his lip to contain the noises he wants to make. Y/N looks ethereal as she fucks herself with the toy and Fred doesn’t want to distract her. “How does it feel, kitten? Talk to Daddy as you fuck yourself.”

“F-feels good.” Y/N increases the speed of the vibration as she starts to fuck herself with the toy slowly. The pace is agonizing, but the tip of the vibrator brushes her g-spot with every movement and she already can feel her orgasm building. “Not as good as your cock, Daddy. But so good.”

“Nothing is as good as my cock, isn’t that right, kitten? No toy or man will ever be able to make you feel as good as my cock does. That pussy belongs to me and no one else. Right, kitten?” Fred has to stop stroking himself to avoid orgasming again. The next time he cums it’ll be inside Y/N, and he still has a few plans for her before that’s going to happen.

Y/N’s toes curl as she increases the pace of her movements and she can feel her walls spasming around the toy. “Yes, Daddy. My pussy is yours. All yours,” she babbles. “Gonna come soon, Daddy. Can I come? Please. I’ve been such a good girl.”

“Gonna come already, kitten? You’ve barely even touched yourself,” Fred teases. “Do you like showing off for Daddy that much?”

Y/N moans and her back arches as her orgasm nears and she stats to slam the toy into herself harder. “Love it so much, Daddy. Love being your good girl. Always wanna be good for you.”

“You are such a good girl, kitten. You look so good fucking yourself with that toy. You’ve already got Daddy hard again.” Fred stands up, his eyes trained on Y/N’s face. “Go on then, kitten. Come for Daddy.”

“Oh, oh, Daddy,” Y/N moans as she finally reaches her climax. Her hips thrust down on the toy as pleasure washed over her and her thighs tremble from how intense her orgasm is. As she comes down from her orgasm the vibration of the toy is too much, but before she can pull it out Fred is sitting next to her on the bed and grabbing the end of the toy.

“We’re not quite done here, kitten.” Fred increases the speed of the vibrator and starts to slowly fuck Y/N with his, watching as her body writhes on the bed.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” Y/N babbles as Fred starts to fuck her with the toy faster. Her body feels like it’s on fire, and she can already feel her next orgasm building. Tears have started to leak out of her eyes, and she collapses against the bed. “Too much Daddy, please.”

Fred slows down the pace of his movements for a moment. “Do you need Daddy to stop, kitten? It’s okay if you do, you just need to say the word and Daddy will stop.”

Y/N shakes her head. “Don’t stop Daddy, please. Wanna come again. Feels so good Daddy.”

Fred starts moving at the same pace as before, leaning down to press a few kisses to Y/N’s forehead. “Such a good girl, kitten. Come for Daddy on the toy one more time and then he’ll give you his cock, okay?” Fred grabs one of Y/N’s hands in his and intertwines their fingers, before pressing them down against the bed above her head. “Good girl, kitten. Come for Daddy.”

Y/N’s back arches off of the bed as she comes, an incoherent mess of moans and whines falling from her mouth as pleasure rockets through her body. Her whole body is trembling, and it feels like she can’t breathe as Fred turns down the vibration on the toy and continues to slowly fuck her as her orgasm rolls over her.

Fred watches Y/N’s chest heave with deep breaths as she comes down from her orgasm, and he slowly pulls the vibrator out of her. He leans down to kiss her forehead gently, squeezing their intertwined hands. “You did wonderful, kitten. So, so good. I love you so much.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Thank you. I love you.” Y/N whines and tilts her chin up, silently asking Fred for a kiss.

Fred complies immediately and kisses her slowly for a few moments. He presses a few quick kisses to her mouth before pulling away. “Do you have one more in you, kitten? Are you ready for Daddy to fuck you?”

Y/N nods, letting Fred help her sit up. “Yes, Daddy. Need you so bad.”

Fred grabs the bottom of Y/N’s bra and pulls it over her head, kissing her again as his hands starts to massage her breasts. He lays her back down as he settles in between her legs, his hands running down her torso towards her core. “Can’t wait to bury my cock in your pussy, kitten. You always feel so good wrapped around me.” He slowly pulls her thong down, admiring her now naked body.

“Fuck me Daddy,” Y/N begs. “Want you to pound my pussy.”

Fred practically growls as he grips Y/N’s thighs and he pulls her down the bed closer to him. He braces himself on one hand near her shoulder, while the other wraps around the base of his cock and positions himself at her entrance. “Ready, kitten?”

“Yes, Daddy, please.”

Fred slams his hips forward, pushing all of himself into Y/N’s dripping heat. He throws one of her legs over his shoulder and grips her hip before he starts to snap his hips into her hard and fast. “Fuck, kitten. Still so fucking tight for Daddy. How does my cock feel? Is it stretching you out?”

“Daddy,” Y/N moans, starting to move her hips to meet Fred’s thrusts. She clenches around him tightly, wanting to bring him to his orgasm. She’s still extremely sensitive from her first two climaxes, and from the way Fred’s cock is relentlessly rubbing against her g-spot she knows it won’t be long before she comes again. “Your cock feels so good. Feel so full, Daddy.”

“God, kitten. Love your cunt so much. Always feel so fucking good.” Fred starts to rub harsh circles on Y/N’s clit, hoping to bring her to her third orgasm. Her walls are like a vice grip around his cock, and Fred knows we won’t last much longer. “Who does this pussy belong to kitten? Is it yours?”

“No,” Y/N pants, shaking her head. She lets out a long whine as Fred lands a particularly hard thrust and she momentarily loses the ability to speak from the pleasure flowing through her veins. “Belongs to you, Daddy. All yours.”

“That’s right, kitten. All mine.” Fred’s rhythm starts to falter as his orgasm approaches, and he starts to apply more pressure to Y/N’s clit. “Come on, kitten. Come for Daddy. Give him one more and I’ll fill you up with my seed.”

Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head and her back arches as she comes again, a low moan ripping from her throat. She relaxes against the bed as she comes down, her hands tangling in Fred’s hair and tugging on it harshly. “Please Daddy. Come inside of me, want you to fill me up.”

Fred buries himself completely in Y/N and his hips still as he comes, his cock twitching as it paints her insides with his release. He rolls his hips slowly before stopping his movements all together. He gently places Y/N’s leg back on the bed, and he leans down to kiss her softly. Fred slowly pulls out of Y/N and lays down next to her on the bed, pulling her into his chest.

“Love you Freddie,” Y/N mumbles as she presses her face into his neck. She wraps her arms around his torso and presses a few kisses to his sweaty skin. “Love you so much.”

Fred chuckles and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I love you too, Y/N.” He just holds her for a moment, pressing her to his chest tightly. He looks down at her, noticing the slightly dazed expression on her face. “I’m gonna go run you a bath, okay? Stay right here, baby.” Fred kisses her gently before he climbs out of bed and heads into their bathroom.

Once the bath is warm and filled with bubbles, Fred goes back into the bedroom and slowly picks Y/N up bridal style. He takes her into the bathroom and places her in the bathtub carefully before getting in behind her.

Y/N relaxes back against Fred’s chest, letting the warm water flow over her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby. Anything for you.” Fred rubs his hands up and down Y/N’s arms in the water to soothe her and presses a few kisses to the top of her head. “So, Daddy, huh?” he teases after a few minutes of silence.

Y/N laughs and tilts her head back so she can look up at Fred. “You’re in no place to talk, kitten,” she fires back.

Fred smiles and leans down to capture Y/N’s lips in a sweet kiss. The angle is awkward, but neither of them seem to care. “Hey, I’m not complaining it was wicked hot. What about you, did you enjoy trying something new?”

Y/N hums and nods, kissing Fred again. “Let’s just say I think we should head back to that sex shop again sometime soon.”

“Does tomorrow work for you?”

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley smut #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley fanfiction #fw #golden

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serenityseventeen · 3 years

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♪ The Last Day of Summer With You

Jun/Wen Junhui/Moon Junhui : Painting...?

“Are you sure about this?” You asked skeptically while staring at your boyfriend who was preoccupied with setting up the stand for the blank canvas.

Jun nodded and placed the canvas on the stand. He clapped his hands together after he was done and turned halfway to you who was on his right and watched him set up the whole thing. He innocently smiled but you shook your head.

“I don't think that painting together on one beautifully blank canvas is a very good idea,” You said, crossing your arms with conviction. “If my memory is correct, the last time we tried an artistic project, it ended up with us filling out bedroom walls with sketches of cats.”

Jun giggled at that remark because he could recall that moment. Everything about that warm spring day was chaotic and it all started when Jun decided to take Mingyu's suggestion of drawing with a significant other as a romantic activity.

That day was surely romantic to Jun because it was a memory he could never forget. You laughed so much that day despite continuously uttering about how foolishly childish you and he were, drawing cats on the walls and sketching stickmen in your notebooks while acting like troublesome kids. He could tell that that day was memorable for you too. If he could get you to smile like that, he would look everywhere for a fun activity to do.

Thus, that was why Jun was always looking for new things to try with you and he would take in many of his member's suggestions. Jun enjoyed having fun, being romantic, and being with you, so everything that his friends deemed ‘romantic’ he would try them out for himself.

Just like how that chaotically beautiful drawing day started, this one also started with a member's suggestion. This time, he took in the artiste, Minghao's recommendation of painting, and bought some art supplies for it.

Since today was a day to finish the hot, summer weather, Jun had decided that you two should attempt to keep the memory of a summertime sunset written on a canvas.

Jun let out a long breath and took your hand, setting you down in front of the canvas. Jun had already prepared a palette and brushes that were kept in a small cup, their fluffy ends sticking up.

“Come on, doing things like this once in a while is fun!” Jun said, handing you a palette. “I'll take the left half of the canvas, you can have the right side. Let's see what we can come up with to describe summer, okay?”

You chuckled, knowing that the painting was going to end up adequately attractive even if it looked peculiar. You glanced at Jun while holding the palette. He was skipping through the bottles of paint to get a brush while holding a plastic palette in one of his hands. You helplessly grinned as you gazed at Jun.

The assorted and iridescent paint bottles that were lined up on the floor were neatly ultimately scattered with a gentle brush of Jun's foot as he made his way back to the stool next to you. He came back with not one brush, but the whole mug that held the brushes.

“Let's get started, shall we?” Jun asked, smiling as he set down the paintbrushes.

You watched as he squeezed paint onto his palettes and gently dabbed his chosen brush into the paint. He painted a slanted line down the middle of the canvas, causing you to laugh at how imperfect but cute it looked.

“I guess I have more space at the bottom of the canvas than you do,” You commented, bringing some orange paint onto your palette.

Jun laughed softly. “I won't even try to fix this crooked line.”

There was complete silence in the house as you and Jun started focusing on the painting. The activity was messier than both of you thought it'd be. Jun had forgotten to buy painting aprons to avoid getting paint on your clothes too, but thankfully, the two of you changed into clothes that weren't special.

It was strange to see him so focused on the painting.

Jun found it strange that you were working so hard on your side of the painting. Sometimes, he would glance at his side to catch the beauty of a concentrated you.

When you saw him looking at the corner of your eye, you would turn to him and you both would stare into each other's eyes for a few seconds before you either smiled, winked, scrunched your nose, or asked, “What?”

Jun couldn't catch when you would gaze at him though, even if your eyes were shooting out hearts, he would be too distracted by his painting that he wouldn't even notice. You found it rather cute, and, you got to gaze at his dangerously attractive side profile.

“Can you pass me the blue paint?” You asked.

Jun looked around his stool to realize that he had been hoarding all of the paints around and under his stool. His hands were a rainbow mess and his painting, well, you could just tell that he was trying hard because it looked pretty with bright and dark colors.

“Oh, sorry,” Jun replied. He got off his chair a little to reach for the blue bottle of paint, his messy hands staining the side of the bottle.

You didn't mind that the bottle was tainted because your hands too, were decorated with a variety of smudged colors. You didn't even know how some paint got on the smooth, tiled floor, though it wasn't unexpected.

As Jun took the bottle and handed it to you, his clumsiness took the best of him and he accidentally, while retreating his hand, swept the back of his painted hand against your side of the canvas. He was moving a beat too fast which caused the sudden collision.

You both froze because you saw the entire thing happen and Jun quickly realized what he had done. The canvas was a bit smudged with brown, destroying the aesthetic of the painting.

Jun looked at you, expecting death glares, but was met with a warm smile. You were laughing, amused by your boyfriend's small mistake. It must have been ridiculous to see you laughing like that because Jun couldn't hold his laughter either. Whenever you laughed, he would habitually mimick your actions even if he didn't know what was so funny.

“Why are you laughing? Aren't you upset?” Jun asked, confused by your rather bright and friendly expression. Your laughter was contagious and Jun was still frozen in place.

“Of course not!” You finally replied. You placed your brush and palette down on the floor, grinning widely out of unexplainable ecstasy. “Mistakes like that are what makes paintings like these so special!”

You cupped his face with your paint-covered hands, leaving polychromatic marks on his cheeks, and leaned in to press a long, sweet kiss on his lips. You didn't know why, but it felt like you were waiting for something like this to happen.

Jun was a bit taken aback by the sudden kiss but he quickly absorbed himself into his. His hand would have completely pushed the painting and stand down but he somehow controlled that, leaving a messy print of his hand on your side of the art piece.

His paint-filled hands left marks on your clothes as they climbed up your waist to hold you tightly.

“You're such a fool,” You commented, your thumb caressing his cheeks that were now smeared with paint from your hands. “Why do you always take in your member's ideas?”

Jun moved back a little to look into your beautiful eyes that were now reflecting the sunshine from the large living room window. “I think I'm too boring. I want you to have fun with me.”

“Thank you,” You replied. “I'll try to be a better lover and give you surprise activities that are fun like this too. It's just that you're so foolish; you don't need to ask your members for fun activities to do. I like everything you do, even if you're just playing piano, singing, practicing a funny skit, or playing games on the computer. It's all fun to me.”

“It's okay,” Jun said, knocking on the side of your head playfully. “I want us to do a variety of things together because it's fun and memorable. I don't care whether or not we do these things as long as we do something, even if it's just staying at home. I wouldn't do things like this if I didn't have you.”

You both let go of each other with a smile. You stared at Jun's hand engraved on your painting. Jun noticed it too and was about to apologize but before he could, you quickly submerged your palm in your colorful painting palette.

You smile lovingly at him before pressing your hand against his side of the painting.

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

a/n: this one was almost 1.5k words and yes, I know, the picture has barely any relevance to the story overall. I tried very hard to find a newer photo of him with paint but had no luck; I just remember them playing with paint during Pretty U(?) or predebut. Anyway, I love Silent Boarding Gate with my whole heart so I used that photo instead. + What does summer look like to you?

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acourtofsnakes · 3 years

Text

Tracinya - Rogue, Chapter 23 | The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader

Summary: Nothing will stop you from rescuing Din. Anyone who stands in your way is merely an obstacle to be removed. But will you be merciful... or listen to that dark call?

Warnings: Injury detail, blood, guns(of the space variety), knives, fighting, swearing, death, watch me make things up about the Force again.

Word Count: 13k+ (I got carried away?)

AN: Well. This ended up a lot longer than I expected it to be. I got rather carried away it seems ((oh well)) Also, I have checked this ((twice)) but its over 13k words and there is going to be something I missed.

Introduction

Rogue| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f) Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @kenoobiwan @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004 @seninjakitey @what-iwish-you-knew @queenofthefaceless @rosiefridayrogersunday @greeneyedblondie44 @itsnottilly @welcometothepedroverse @xgoldenjenny @mamacitapascal @heyitsjaybird @amyk-37 @greatcircle79

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood @kaylee-krystal

Mando’a Translation: Tracinya - Flame

There was no part of his body that wasn’t screaming in pain.

His right leg was broken, possibly in two places, and his left ankle was fractured.

He had taken the fall on his right side, meaning the impact had dislocated his shoulder and shattered his collarbone, resulted in searing agony whenever he moved his head.

Not only that, but every breath felt like glass and fire, a pain he was familiar enough with to know he also had at least three broken ribs.

Of course, there were bruises – his entire body was probably littered with purple and black smudges – and cuts.

Din didn’t remember hitting the floor. Only remembered saying goodbye and then… nothing. He supposed he should be grateful, because from the state his body was in, the feeling of impact would have been horrendous, his body crushed under the very armour that was made to keep him safe.

He’d been convinced that was it, the lights were turned off and the Maker would come to greet him.

And yet, after an indeterminable amount of darkness… there was suddenly light.

Harsh, blinding light and hands moving over his body, checking for injury and –

They were going to remove his armour.

The thought and realisation sent shockwaves of terror through him, and despite the agony that had threatened to suck him under, survival instinct kicked in and he lashed out. Taking down anyone who came near him, the medics, the guards, Troopers – anyone who threatened to touch his armour. He was like a caged animal, defending his last dying breath even as his head spun and his knees gave way.

He fought for consciousness, long enough to see a pair of immaculate boots walk in, the edge of a long, ebony cloak embroidered with gold.

Through the roaring in his head, he heard a silken voice ordering everyone to stand down, that if anyone removed the amour, they would be removed of their head.

And then he had been sucked back into a fitful abyss

Din wasn’t sure how long ago that had been.

The room – cell – they had put him in contained no windows, no clocks, nothing to give him indication to what time it was. Only a few artificial lights placed on each wall – which he was grateful for, because the dim lighting was a minimal balm to his pulsating head.

Only a thin cot for him to sleep on, pushed into the corner of the room and a tiny area in the corner where he could relieve himself. The ceiling rose far above him, giving the impression of being at the bottom of a very small, very dark pit.

There was no regular pattern to when they pushed a tray of food and water through a tiny hatch in the door either, so he couldn’t even use that.

Not that he could have concentrated anyway, with the agony waging war on his body.

He’d had countless injuries before and danced the line of death so many times he was surprised he kept getting away with it.

And yet this… this was bad.

His vision kept fading in and out, blurriness making his sight hazy before it cleared again, but not without leaving fuzzy auras that floated in his peripheral.

Concussion too then… a bad one.

He just prayed there was no permanent damage.

He could still talk, though his voice was hoarse and ragged when he whispered to himself the names of his loved ones – he could still remember them, thankfully.

The ability to move remained intact – though heavily compromised. He could only manage tiny movements, embarrassingly slow as he tried not to move his neck or shoulder… or head… or back.

An escape probably wasn’t going to be possible for a while.

Din sighed, laying in an awkward position on his cot, one that gave the least pain.

Again, his thoughts returned to his haven.

You.

You were going to kill him when he got out.

Either for being a hypocrite, or for the worry he was causing you.

The worry, no… the heart-wrenching terror he had heard in your voice mere moments before he fell. That cruel fear of the consequences as you laid into him, tried to keep that anger contained but he knew you too well. Knew that this would be tearing you to pieces.

He had felt the exact same way when you were taken – when she died.

You were a rather dysfunctional pair, weren’t you.

That thought had him chuckling – and then groaning as the small movement sent shockwaves from his broken ribs.

Maker, he was battered.

He didn’t even know how it had all gone so wrong.

One minute he was flitting through the sky, dodging blaster fire and the next there was a loud pop and smoke began billowing from his back, from the jet pack.

A very carefully aimed shot, with precision and intent – not to blow him up by shooting at the fuel lines… but perfectly lined up to knock out the thrusters and sent him tumbling to Earth.

There was only one person he knew that could make a shot like that.

Someone he should have foreseen, if he was honest with himself.

Looking back, the townspeople letting slip the information about the base… that had clearly been a trap.

A false trail to lead them right to the doorstep of the very people trying to chase them down.

Din hadn’t just led himself to his death… but his friends too. He had no idea where they were, if they’d escaped – if they were even alive.

He was disgusted with himself, the way he had so easily and thoughtlessly allowed his friends to be brought to such danger. He should have just gone in alone but… he hadn’t been thinking straight.

When he’d heard that there was a whole base dedicated to finding his sweetheart… a whole legion of Stormtroopers trained, and no doubt given weapons specifically made to defend and attack Force users, he’d lost it.

How could he walk away knowing all of that? Knowing they were going to come after you?

He couldn’t. He didn’t.

And now look where he was.

Movement outside his door suddenly broke him from his reverie, a shadow moving past the gap in the food hatch.

Something beeped outside the cell, multiple locks sliding and scraping through the door and then it was pushed open.

Din blinked against the sudden harsh light flooding his cell, his helmet damaged so his visor didn’t adjust to the brightness the way it should have done.

As his eyes cleared, he saw a figure lean and tall, wearing a long cloak – with golden embroidery.

Oh, joy.

Anger sizzled through his reluctant body as Haran prowled into his cell, filling the small room with that unearthly presence. The shadows of the room seemed to cling to him, perhaps recognising that their master had arrived.

Din grunted, ignoring the screaming agony that flooded his senses as he dragged his body to sit up, leaning heavily against where the two walls joined near his bed. If this was his end, he didn’t want to be laying down.

If it was a friendly little chat… well, he could at least give himself a better position to punch the bastard in that overly pretty face.

Haran stopped in the centre of the room, lifting gloved hands to his hood and he pushed it back.

He looked the same as always.

Sharp cheekbones accentuated his face, which was neither old nor young – timeless, for no one knew how long this man had truly been alive.

Amber eyes that dominated his appearance, simmering like molten gold and only highlighting the fact that he wasn’t quite human.

The twin scars across his mouth and eye did nothing to mar the beauty of him – and Din supposed that was all part of the act. A beautiful face, a silken voice and a laugh that could bring entire villages to their knees to worship this fallen dark prince.

Before he slaughtered them all.

Din hated him.

Those golden eyes simmered with amusement as he beheld Din, as if knowing the thoughts going through the Mandalorian’s head… which he probably did.

He cocked his head, a smile lifting his full lips, “Well, fancy seeing you so soon, Lori.”

Din growled, his hands tightening into fists and he wished his blazing glaze would melt through his beskar helmet and sear straight into those lion’s eyes.

That damn lovers laugh rippled through the tiny room, setting Din’s teeth on edge, “Oh, Mando, no need to be so defensive. You had to know what would happen when you decided to infiltrate a base dedicated to hunting your little Jedi.”

“You won’t find her.” Din spat the words, wishing his body wasn’t so battered, wishing his had his strength so he could tear this creature apart.

Haran’s smile widened, revealing a set of pearly white teeth, his scar tugging ever so slightly at the corner of his mouth – a predators grin, “That’s not entirely true, considering I found her so easily last time. But I won’t need to find her.” He examined his cloak, brushing a speck of invisible dust from it.

Dread coiled in Din’s gut, “She doesn’t know where I am. She won’t be able to find me, so you can’t lure her here like a piece of bait. She’s smarter than that.” With every word, he had the sinking feeling that he was saying exactly what the King of Shadows and Death expected him to.

“You see, I would believe you, if not for one tiny little detail.” Now Haran inspected his gloves, tugging the buckles that tightened them around his wrists, a picture of cool, arrogant confidence.

It was an effort for Din to keep his voice steady, “And what is that?”

Please no, please…

Haran looked up at him again, a dark curl falling over his forehead, “I hacked into your comms system, right as you hit the deck. You really should get some better tech, Mando.” He clasped his hands behind his back, “I sent a distress signal to your pretty Jedi, telling her your exact coordinates and even how to get in.”

Din simply made a noise of horror, knowing that nothing in the world would stop you from finding him. You were stubborn, headstrong and determined… all combined with a fierce desire to save the ones you loved.

He just prayed Ahsoka would make you see sense. You would be smart about this… right?

Haran shrugged lightly, “I don’t think even Tano will be able to hold her back.”

Sick bastard, reading his thoughts.

“I guess we’ll see who’s right soon enough, won’t we?” With that, he turned, walking back to the door, where he knocked twice.

The beep and locks sounded again, and Haran looked over his shoulder at Din, who was still struck dumb with dread, “Why, I bet she’s already on her way right now.” He laughed low, and then he was gone with a sweep of his cloak.

~~~

You were beside yourself with panic and terror in the first few hours after the call cut off.

Your scream had woken Ahsoka and the kids, who made it to your tree in time to see you half fall from the branches, stumbling around looking for something, anything to help.

You could barely hear Ahsoka calling your name, until she grabbed you, forcing you to look at her and calm down. You’d told her what happened, before yanking out her grasp and running to the camp.

Nothing was computing in your brain, nothing except a primal instinct to go and save Din right now.

Again, you hadn’t heard her calling your name, mumbling over and over that you needed to go, you needed to get out of here, Din needed you.

Except there was just one problem…

“Slow down. How are we going to get off of the planet? We don’t have a ship…” Ahsoka spoke calmly, but firmly. She was watching you tear through the camp, emotions a wreck and noting you were moments away from a panic attack.

You had turned to her, clutching your belongings in your arms, your breathing coming in sharp pants, “Then - then we’ll just… Um...” Casting your eyes about helplessly, you had felt your throat close up, your heart race and your palms start sweating.

A sob had been about to break from your lips but then – you both heard it.

The tell-tale sound of a twig breaking, of hushed voices.

The pair of you whipped your heads in unison, toward the sound and your panic attack vanished, being replaced with the cool ice of battle. The things in your arms had been placed on the floor and then Ahsoka’s voice had been in your head, “You go left, I’ll go right. We’ll meet in the middle.”

You nodded, reaching for your blade but then Ahsoka had held out a hand to stop you, instead… holding out one of her sabers.

Oh.

Yes, you’d trained with it but… now she was letting you use it for real, in actual combat?

Lifting your eyes to hers, she had seen what you were thinking and simply smiled encouragingly.

That said enough, so you curled your fingers around it and then the pair of you had separated, footsteps lighter than air as you both forged a protective Force field around the kids.

Moving through the trees, marking the intruders... it had all soothed you, soothed the ache and terror in your chest for the time being.

Your power let you know they were close, and you hovered in the darkness for a moment, watching the two cloaked figures and sensing Ahsoka opposite you. Something flowed through the air, like a confirmation and you activated the lightsaber, springing from your hiding space with a burst of glowing late.

“Wait!!! Wait, it’s us!!!” The two cloaked figures turned around, dropping their hoods so their faces would be revealed in the glow from both your sabers.

Cara, and another man you didn’t recognise – bald, with a numerous harness and straps that no doubt held weapons under his cloak.

You made a nose, lowering the saber, “Cara?! I thought… I thought you were with Lori – what are you doing here?” Despite the situation, the anonymous nickname for him came out instantly – protecting his identify even here.

Cara looked from you to Tano, who was still standing in a somewhat defensive position with her saber held out. “We were… We’d split up to take down more of the Troopers. Mando took to the sky to draw fire so we could sweep through them. When we saw him get taken down, we had a choice. Either get captured ourselves, or go and get help.”

You blinked, a frown forming on your face, “Hang on, let me get this right.” Something stirred in your chest, something smouldering, “You saw Din get taken down, saw him fall from the sky, into the clutches of Stormtroopers who are no doubt reporting to Moff Gideon… and you ran away?” The last two words come out in an incredulous tone, your face showing confusion as you looked between Cara and the other man.

He raised his hands, shaking his head, “Hey, I wouldn’t go as far as to call it running away. We didn’t know he’d contacted you; we didn’t know how anyone would find us. If we got captured too, there was no way we could get out. Only Boba and Fennec knew where we were, they wouldn’t have been enough.”

Ahsoka raised her eyebrows, stepping closer – never lowering her lightsaber, “So, he’s there alone? Or wherever else they’ve taken him?”

The man blinked as he looked at her, “Do you mind lowering that thing, lady? I don’t see how we’re the enemies here.”

You snarled at him, mimicking Ahsoka in the closer advance, “I’m not calling you enemies, I’m stunned that you just abandoned him there!!”

Cara held out a hand, trying to diffuse the situation, “Mayfeld, shut up.” She looked at you, “Look, Mando isn’t incapable of taking care of himself. He’s been in situations like this before, he’ll be fine.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, your head spinning, “He’ll be fine?! He could be anywhere, Cara! Who knows where they’ve dragged him, what they’re doing to him! I’m not doubting for a second that he’s been captured before – but not by an army of Troopers, alone, after falling hundreds of feet from the fucking sky! How about I push you out of the open air in a metal tomb and you tell me if you’re up to fighting your way out of an Imperial army.”

Mayfeld squared up to you, tensions running high, “You know, you might want to be a little more understanding. I’m sure if the situation was reversed, Mando would have - ”

Suddenly, you had pulled free your knife and it was held to his throat, “If you dare say he would have done the same, I’ll cut your throat.” You didn’t care that these were Din’s friends. Didn’t care that they were obviously here to help.

You were furious, feeling helpless and well… you had never been the greatest at controlling your temper.

Ahsoka disabled her lightsaber, running forward and gently pushing you all apart. You felt a phantom brush over your skin and realised she had weaved threads of the Force between everyone, “Hey, hey, let’s all just take a moment to breathe, okay? We’re all worried and wound up… Yelling at each other isn’t going to solve anything.”

Mayfeld muttered something you didn’t hear, though you did hear the thump as Cara elbowed him in the ribs. “Enough.”

You powered down the saber and dropped your head into your hands.

The world had flipped on its head, completely and utterly shifted and turned into something unrecognisable. Maybe this wasn’t really happening, maybe you were having some kind of fever dream.

You sighed long and deep, rubbing at your eyes before looking at Mayfeld and Cara, “I’m sorry, for what I said. You did the right thing… We wouldn’t know anything if you hadn’t come back.” You shifted your gaze solely to Mayfeld now, “And I’m sorry for holding a knife to your throat.”

To your surprise, he just chuckled, shaking his head, “Don’t worry. I’ve had worse from your Mandalorian, this was nothing.” He held out a hand, “Migs Mayfeld.”

You found yourself smiling back, sliding your hand into his and shaking it as you told him your name.

Cara looked around, “As much as I’m glad we’re not threatening to kill each other anymore, does anyone want to tell me how we’re going to find Mando?”

As if by coincidence, the comms device on your wrist started to emit a high-pitched beep.

All four of you jumped, then looked at the device which had begun to flash red.

You held it up between you all, and the screen lit up, displaying a string of co-ordinates with that same persistent beep.

It dawned on you instantly, “It’s a distress signal. Lori sent us the co-ordinates of where he is.”

Cara was eyeing it thoughtfully, “Do we want to ask why that suddenly came up, just as I asked where he was? And what if he isn’t there by the time we get there?”

You were already moving back toward the camp to gather your things, “I don’t care. I don’t care if it’s a trap, or if he’s a whole parsec over. It’s the best thing we have, so we’re using it. Get your things.”

That had been a couple of nights ago. You were now travelling on Boba Fett’s ship, a tight squeeze but you didn’t care. Nothing else mattered apart from finding Din.

Boba Fett was an interesting man. He was a clone of the infamous Jango Fett, the Mandalorian of whom you’d grown up hearing about. His armour was older, less sleek than Din’s but still as ruggedly beautiful and had belonged to Jango himself. He was shadowed by another woman, Fennec Shand – an assassin of whom you’d also heard of on your ‘travels’.

He was a straightforward, direct man, greeting you and praising you on the stories he had heard – then asking how everything was going to go ahead. Straight to business.

Two hours later, a plan had already been created.

The distress signal coordinates you had given Boba would take you to the general area you needed to be. Then, once you located the Cruiser, Boba would get you as close as he could, slipping into a disused landing bay.

He would remain with the ship and kids, waiting to get out – and to lead a distraction if it came to it.

The rest of you would infiltrate the Cruiser, splitting up to cover more ground and find Din – Cara and Fennec in one pair, you, Mayfeld and Ahsoka in the other.

You sat a little way away from the others – as far as you could in the ship, letting the sound of their planning wash over you. They were determined the best way to get in and out without being seen, whether it was best to go in all guns blazing – literally – or try and be as discreet as possible with minimal causalities.

You were glad you had excused yourself… because that dark assassin within you was stirring, sensing the oncoming fight – readying a thirst for blood.

Sure, some of the Troopers may have had no choice… but they certainly hadn’t done anything to change their fate. They still chosen to continue following Gideon and Haran – for you knew now it was him that shot down Din, but you had kept that nugget of information to yourself, only telling Ahsoka.

The others didn’t need the added stress of knowing a terrifying legend had truly come to life.

If they wanted to try and preserve life – fine. You certainly didn’t have to agree with them. You didn’t answer rot anyone but yourself.

And you supposed that mindset should worry you, making you concerned that you were slipping back to that cold killer but… you didn’t care. If you had to become her to save Din and get everyone out safely… so be it. You would deal with the consequences later.

Ahsoka crossed your field of vision, and then came to sit down opposite you, her back against the wall and her legs stretched out next to yours. She said nothing, merely watching you with an unreadable expression for a few moments.

You sighed, “If you’ve come to tell me not to go where my thoughts are leading me-“

She shook her head, cutting you off gently, “I’m not going to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. I’m just going to ask you… Are you prepared for the consequences of what you do, either way? If you choose to go down the path of tearing down anyone in your way… How will you feel afterward?”

How would you feel afterward?

“I don’t know how I would feel… I know what it’s like to be pushed into a life but… There’s always a choice at some point. However small…” You looked up at her, truly valuing her opinions and advice – she was already a trusted friend, one you could speak your mind to.

Of course, you had Din. But to have something sperate from him… it felt good. Healthy. You both had your separate friendships away from each other… for moments like this perhaps.

“I can’t think of anything but saving him. And it’s easy to sit here and ask myself what I’ll do, before we’re even there… but when I’m in there, when I’m walking through that Cruiser to find him...” You shrugged slightly, “I don’t know what I’ll do. And I might not have the time to make that decision when I’m there.”

Ahsoka nodded slowly, listening to what you have to say, “Then whatever happens… We’ll deal with it afterward. Whatever you choose to do... I believe you are strong enough to take it. And if not… then we’ll deal with that too.”

Gratitude warmed the cold feeling in your chest, spreading through you and you looked at her with new appreciation, “Thank you…” Those two words were heartfelt, all the emotion and thankfulness pumped into there. “For this, helping me… and for everything you’ve done.”

She inclined her head slightly, bumping her foot against your thigh, “You needn’t thank me… It’s been an honour, to help you and train you. After everything that’s happened in my life, the mistrust I had for those I once believed in… I never thought I could get over that hole. But you’ve shown me that it’s not all the way I believed. Things are changing… I’m learning that now. So… thank you.”

You were about to answer, but Boba’s deep, gravelly voice came from the cockpit, “Time to gear up guys. We’re about to hit the same co-ordinates from the distress signal.”

~~~~

“Sir?”

Moff Gideon walked over to the young man who had just called for him, seating in front of a holo-screen like the others dotted about the room, “Yes? What is it?”

The man brought up a radar screen, a pulsing red dot just coming into the edge of it, “They’re getting closer. They followed the Hunter’s trap.”

Gideon smiled slowly, watching that little red dot slowly creep closer to the centre of the radar, toward his Cruiser, “Excellent. Tell the troops to be ready. Just because we want them here, doesn’t mean we’ll make this easy for them.”

~~~

Boba Fett’s ship glided through the atmosphere, all of you peering out of the windows for any sign, any hint as to where Din might be.

You’d been in the general location for about twenty-five minutes, travelling right to the edge of each grid square on Fett’s radar.

“I think… we might have missed him.” Cara spoke the words that you had all been reluctant to acknowledge, her voice quiet.

You shook your head fiercely, moving to the other side of the ship, “No. You’re wrong. He’s here. I know he is. I just… know.”

Grogu cooed from behind you, his ears floppy like they had been since you lost contact with Din.

You turned to look at him, heart breaking at the utter sadness in his glossy eyes, “Oh, Gu… I know.” You scooped him up, cradling the little body to your chest and you pressed a kiss between his ears, “We’ll find him… I promise you; we’ll find him.” You pressed your face to his little head, whispering, “Even if we have to do it on our own.”

His little arms reached up to your shoulders, and you took a few moments just to hug him, giving him comfort but also receiving it in return.

You felt his hands tugging at your collar and wondered if he was trying to reach for your hair… but then he grasped something and pulled – your necklace.

The mythosaur necklace that Din had given you.

You looked down at him, watching as he cradled the symbol in his tiny little hands, gurgling at it but for once, you weren’t sure what he was saying. It itched at you, like you could almost understand him.

It turns out, Ahsoka did. She gasped a little, looking at Grogu suddenly and blinking in surprise, “Oh, you’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t even think of that…” She looked at you with wide eyes, “You can find him.”

You blinked at her, raising an eyebrow, “What do you mean?” You felt Grogu’s eyes on you too, and he tugged gently at the mythosaur charm, “The necklace?”

Ahsoka nodded, “Kind of… You have such a strong connection with him, such intense care for each other that if you use your power… you might be able to sense him, where he is.” She walked closer, “It’s hard to explain… it’s an old Jedi trick. They used to use it to track others or find people in hiding. It’s difficult to do, and not all Jedi could do it but… You know him. Better than any of us.” She took Grogu from you gently, “Close your eyes and focus your mind the way we practiced.”

You nodded, not questioning it. There was no time.

You shut your eyes, following the breathing exercises she had taught you and dropping everything away from your mind. The ship, the murmuring of the others – the panic.

All of it fell away until you felt the power flowing through your blood, felt it brush up against every living thing in your vicinity.

Ahsoka’s voice slipped through your mind, “Now, think of him. The memories, the way he makes you feel, the happiness you feel with him. Think about what makes him your Mandalorian.”

Your power flowed through you, out of you, wrapping around the ship and you were already deep in your mind by the time it started shifting the direction you were facing.

What makes him your Mandalorian…

You let that question move through you, thinking of his touch, his voice… the way he softened the harsh edges of your mind and eased your chest.

The way you had truly come alive after meeting him, how you saw the galaxy as you had before – something beautiful and wild and begging to be explored.

You breathed in and out slowly, musing on the way you felt you had also brought light to Din’s life. Not just from the way he told you... but the way he seemed to have mellowed even more since first knowing you.

He laughed more, let himself go a little… His moments of uptight, rigid restraint had melted into something far softer and… goofier.

Ahsoka’s gentle praise whispered through the thoughts and memories, encouraging you. For however long, you didn’t know.

And then you felt it.

Your power brushed over something… someone.

Din.

His essence, his soul, burning like a bright star in your longest night. A sense of comfort, fierce loyalty and determination, all encased in a glittering shell of honour.

Your eyes snapped up, the ship slowing to a stop and then – there it was.

Moff Gideon’s cruiser.

And speeding toward you… about thirty Stormtroopers, ready to attack.

Mayfeld grinned from behind you as Duru leapt from the control panel, “Time to make an entrance.”

~~~

When Din got out of here, he was going to tear Haran into little pieces.

Well.

He would help you tear him into little pieces.

You had probably more rights than anyone to do so, but he had some things that the cocky shit needed to pay for.

Hey, maybe you could tag team.

Din kept thinking of creative ways to take Haran apart, to see if he was as strong inside as the power he oozed on the outside. It would be a fascinating project.

Maybe when you cut him open, he would be a hollow shell, or maybe there would be some kind of malevolent demon inside him.

He supposed these thoughts were rather twisted and dark, and that Haran had undoubtedly been through some awful things in his life… but so had you, and you were worlds apart from each other.

Besides, it was all he could do. Think of Haran’s death and try to avoid thinking of the alternative thing that was screaming at him like a siren.

That you may very well be on your way to rescuing him.

Din could tell himself for hours that you wouldn’t heed it, that you’d know it was a trap but… it just wasn’t you.

You were one of the smartest people he knew, but if anyone you loved was in danger, caution tended to get thrown out the window.

Sometimes, you were both more alike than you realised.

Din sighed, curling his fingers into fists and then releasing them again. A few hours ago – or maybe days? – he’d lost feeling in his arm. He couldn’t pop the dislocated shoulder back into place without removing his armour, so it was stuck there, swollen and pressing against the beskar. It had started with pins and needles, and then a cold feeling like ice in his veins.

It made him feel unsteady, lopsided – though that may have been the broken right leg and twisted left ankle.

Not only that, but every movement of his head made his stomach roil dangerously, and his breathing seemed to be coming laboured… more like sharp pants rather than deep breaths.

You were never going to let him live this down.

He huffed again, but the faintest smile rose to his lips as he imagined you both somewhere safe.

You’d wait long enough for Din to be suitably healed before tearing into him… and no doubt it would creep up for months afterwards. He could almost hear the cocky tone as you bickered about something and you’d whip that out, “Oh, well, I suppose I could always go an attack an Imp base and get shot of the sky. Stars above, can you imagine doing that? What fun.”

The thought made him chuckle, just a bit even though it irritated his ribs again.

Of course, that soft sound seemed like a siren call and seconds later, the door to his cell swung open and the King of Shadows and Death appeared – more like King of Arrogance and a limited wardrobe.

Didn’t he have anything else to wear besides that cloak?

Or was Din just jealous? His own cape was a bit tattered, and he’d always envied the way you wore your own hooded cloak, blending into the darkness and sweeping around corners like some kind of phantom.

Maker, his concussion must be getting worse.

Pushing that thought from his spiralling mind, Din tilted his head back to look up at Haran, “Are you lonely? Is that why you keep coming to see me?” He tilted his head, ignoring the feeling like boulders crashing against the inside of his skull and the bits of light dancing across his vision, “Or are you looking for a bit of nightly entertainment? Because I have to say, I’m hardly in the shape to do so.”

His tongue felt so heavy his mouth.

Haran rolled those unsettling eyes as the door closed behind him and he walked over, leaning against the wall opposite, “Yes, Mando. My days are just so meaningless without your shiny head to light the way.” He put a gloved hand to his chest, gasping, “Why, if we weren’t on an Imperial Cruiser, I might just drop to one knee and beg for your hand in marriage, right now.”

Prick.

Din turned his head away, breathing shallow as his stomach flipped again, “What do you want? If you hadn’t noticed, I’m a rather busy man.”

Haran chose to ignore him, snapping his fingers together and pulling a face like he just remembered something, “Oh, wait. I can’t marry you, can I?” He looked up at Mando, golden eyes burning through the side of his helmet, “Because you already have plans to do that to someone else, don’t you?

Din willed himself not to rise to the challenge, not to take the bait. He instead tried counting his breaths, focusing on anything but Haran’s silken words.

They flowed like water around the small cell, almost irresistible, “Does she know? Does your little princess know that you’ve been carrying that ring around for months now?” He crossed one ankle over the other, “I have to admit, it is a stunner. How much did you have to save for a rock like that?”

Anger hissed through him, but Din closed his eyes.

Many jobs. He had saved the credits from… more jobs than he could remember.

He would bring home most of the credits but would siphon off just a little from the top to add it to the tiny stash he had going. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get a ring with a huge stone like others he’d seen but… he had a feeling that you would love it regardless – at least he hoped. The ring had sat nestled in an inner pocket of his tight underlayer of clothing for a while now, and he could still feel it’s hard press into his skin. Thankfully it hadn’t been crushed in the fall.

It was new to him. Not just the fact he had reached this point in his life, but the fact he was looking for an engagement ring.

Mandalorian’s traditionally gave weapons instead but… you weren’t a Mandalorian. And the pair of you… this was different. And he wanted to do it right.

You had taken on board so much of his traditions and rules… he wanted to do this for you. Do something in a way that you would be familiar with.

Of course, there was one other major thing that was different –

“Have you even revealed your face? How do you know she’ll want to marry you? I mean, she loves you now but… What if you take off your helmet and she can’t stand you?” Haran examined his gloves, his words low and almost childlike but that was the point.

Din gritted his teeth, keeping his body loose – as much as it could be with the pain – “Seriously, are you here for a reason?”

Boom!

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the entire ship.

It echoed down the hall, but Din could calculate it was far away, deep in the belly of the cruiser so most likely a cargo hold.

Red lights began flashing outside of his cell, the sound of many thumping footsteps racing past.

No… no-

Haran’s eyes unfocused and a cold, dark power brushed against Din. Even through the armour, he could feel it. The way it leeched the warmth from him, swallowed what little light was in the room. It had a pull to it, like the silken caress of his voice given life.

Din shuddered, but Haran hadn’t noticed, instead feeling for something… someone…

His pupils dilated, black swallowing the gold and then he grinned, a cruel, delighted grin and his eyes came back into focus. He stood up, laughing, “Oh, Mando. I’m afraid your luck has run out. Your precious princess has just made her entrance.”

Bile rose up in Din’s throat and he shook his head, “No, you’re lying.”

Din knew he wasn’t. Knew it because he felt you. Every cell in his body was crying out to leave the room, to be reunited with you. Hell, he could almost smell your achingly familiar scent.

Haran advanced on him, crouching down and he took off his gloves, revealing a pair of slender hands – absolutely mauled with twisted, marbled scars.

Din couldn’t stop staring at them, at the evidence of some awful injury – fire, by the looks of it, “What are you doing?” He couldn’t move away, the pain too great and the room spinning. Horror flooded his senses – horror and relief.

He felt sick at the relief, because the last thing he wanted was you near any of these people, but at the same time… you were coming to rescue him.

He wasn’t going to die in here –

That power brushed against him again, slipping through the cracks in his armour and seeking out the injuries as Haran said softly, “The game is beginning.”

~~~

So, your idea to enter the ship discreetly… maybe hadn’t gone entirely to plan.

In all honesty though, it wasn’t your fault that you’d been attacked.

And it wasn’t your fault that the only evasive maneuverer that they wouldn’t be expecting was to lead them on a wild goose chase around the ship and then…. Crash into the cargo hold.

Okay, so Boba had been going for a gentle landing, but the situation had required some fast thinking and strategy and so… there you were.

Maybe it hadn’t been what you’d decided upon but… you had to admit, the explosion provided excellent cover for your teams to slip in.

Amongst the chaos, you weaved around the edges of the cargo ship and you were through into a service passageway, watching Cara and Fennec disappear down a hallway opposite.

The cruiser was like a maze.

You had no idea how long you had been navigating the halls, but you knew it was long enough.

Already, you had encountered a few Troopers, but they were silenced before they could raise the alarm – and stuffed into nearby rooms so they would be delayed when they awoke.

Mayfeld kept pace easily with you and Ahsoka, as you sent out waves of power to sweep the area, “They most likely have him in the cells. But if they know we’re coming… They would have moved him.

Somewhere more central, where we have no choice but to be in the open and vulnerable to attack. So, we should head toward the front of the ship, maybe.” He kept his voice hushed and his blaster aimed.

Ahsoka peered over her shoulder at him, raising her eyebrows, “Tell me again where you came from?” She had her other saber in her hand, held in her trademark grip as she moved like a shadow.

Mayfeld chuckled low, “Impressed?”

Seriously?

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, looking ahead again, “Please, don’t flatter yourself.” She shook her head, pausing and raising a hand for you all to stop too.

You pushed your power around the corner as well, combining with hers and you felt it.

A cluster of Stormtroopers gathered near a service room. They were standing between you and the next hallway and would need to be removed.

Focusing, you did a rough tally, “Nine of them. All armed.” You worked it through in your mind. You could take them – but there was still enough time for them to raise the alarm. Especially if they were near service rooms, they’d be able to signal to others and you would soon be ambushed.

Even without power, Mayfeld appeared to have done the same, “We need to draw them away, get them somewhere quiet.” He looked back the way you came, then to the right where there was a dead end.

Ahsoka sighed, shaking her head, “How? Any noise will alert the others. We need to - ” She broke off, having just seen what you were doing. “Where are you going?”

You had moved away from the safety of the wall, drawing the hood of your cloak up over your face. “You and Mayfeld get ahead, see if you can find a map or something in one of those rooms.”

Something dark thrummed in your blood, your palms itching with an intense need to… to make someone hurt.

Mayfeld rose an eyebrow, facing you as he kept his back against the wall, “Are you crazy? They want you as much as you want Mando! You can’t just walk out there like a party gift.”

A party gift that’ll explode in their faces.

Stars above, the very thought almost made you laugh with an unnaturally shadowed delight.

You indeed chuckled, rolling your eyes, “Exactly. What Stormtrooper grunt would pass up the opportunity to deliver Moff Gideon the very thing he’s doing all of this for? They’ll take me straight to him or throw me somewhere to wait. Either way, it gets them away from you.”

Ahsoka was watching you, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. She didn’t agree with this anymore than Mayfield, but she too knew there was no other way. “Okay.” She ignored Mayfeld’s noise of protest, “Be careful. Try not to draw too much attention if you can help it. We’ll find anything we can and if you’re not back out here, then circle back to find you.” She was still watching you with that strange look – like she could sense something off.

You gave her a playful salute before pulling out another knife from your boot, rolling your shoulders and strutting around the corner.

Instantly, the group of Troopers turned around, guns raising as they beheld your cloaked appearance, and the shining lightsaber in your hand, “Hey! Stand down!”

You dropped the hood, grinning wickedly as you purred, “Hello, boys.”

You moved like a flame, tearing through the group of Stormtroopers and spreading your embers of death, ready to turn into a blaze.

The whir of the lightsaber was the conductor of your dance, providing a beat as your separated limb from limb. The deadly energy whipped through the air, severing one of the Troopers hands from his wrist and he went down screaming, clutching at the stub at the end of his arm which was smouldering. You didn’t hesitate, whirling and flinging a sharp, deadly knife from your hand.

There was a muffled, wet noise impact as it lodged itself in his throat, buried in the gap between the chest plates and helmet.

You didn’t know if Ahsoka and Mayfield were close, if they’d found a map – you didn’t care.

These men, these followers were standing between you and Din. Maybe they had been forced into it, but as you had said before. They made the choice to stay.

A yell sounded from behind you and a sharp blow to the middle of your back had you stumbling, the air knocked from your lungs.

You sucked in a sharp breath but before you could turn, the back of a blaster smashed your skull and you tumbled to the floor, fighting through the wave of nausea and the stars in your vision. The lightsaber was flung from your grip, skittering across the floor.

A somewhat altered voice hissed against your ears, a knee pressing to your spine, “You think you can waltz in here and take us all down? I don’t care what the boss says.” The muzzle of his blaster now jammed against the back of your skull, forcing your forehead to press against the icy, metallic floor and you bit your lip with the impact, “You are vermin. A monster. People like you shouldn’t exist.”

The dark creature within you snarled, and you spread your fingers of your free hand, the other caught up underneath you, “Didn’t your boss tell you?”

You heard him cock his head, “Tell me, what?” He dug his blaster in harder, right against the base of your skull.

A wicked grin spread your lips, causing them to split further but quite frankly, you didn’t care. The pain only aided in the focus, the hot blood nothing as it ran down your chin, “Watch the hands.” You lifted it from the floor, wrapping the Force around his throat and you gave him only a second to realise what was happening, before curling your hand into a fist and crushing his windpipe.

He choked, hands flying up to his throat but then he was instantly gone, slumping forward over you in a heavy tangle of limbs.

You groaned, shifting his body off of you, “Get off of me.” You muttered it uselessly, scrambling up and you scooped up the lightsaber, before turning to survey the hallway.

Footsteps resounded from both ends of the hallway, and you lowered into a battle stance, adrenaline still humming through your veins and numbing everything else, everything but the fight and the goal – Din. Along with the cool ice of battle… something heavy and alluring whispered to you, as black as night and hungry for more death.

White armour burst into your left peripheral and you whirled toward it, flinging a hand forward and then back.

The Stormtrooper was dragged off his feet, again trapped with the invisible pressure around his throat as he ground to a halt, legs swinging forward with the remaining force of him flying at you.

He snarled, scrambling at his throat, “You can’t do this. You won’t beat him, no matter what you believe.”

You rolled your eyes, letting your head fall back with a groan, “When they make you, do they implant some kind of need for all the dramatic bullshit? Honestly, whoever the first one of you was, he must have been an incredible bore.”

The Trooper thrashed about uselessly, his weapon falling to the floor and you sensed the glare through the black visor, “At least we have hearts. And maybe we’re all the same, but we’re more human than you are.”

Monster.

Ah, back to this, yet again.

Always back to this.

Your smile was angelic, your appearance anything but.

Long cloak hanging from your shoulders, battle suit fitted and black as coal. Your boots were stained red, the blood looking like ink on the dark leather.

As for your face, you sported a wicked bruise to your cheekbone, a long cut across your forehead and with the blood dripping down your chin, the wild fury in your eyes… You probably looked every bit the monster they said you were.

And you couldn’t care.

“You think I haven’t heard this one before? How I have no humanity, no soul… I’m an abomination that shouldn’t deserve to live, blah blah blah.” You shook your head, something deadly and shadowed twisting through your blood, humming in dark delight at what you were doing, the devastation you were feeding it.

There was a name for it.

You knew what it was, the siren call to step over the line that you were only too pleased to answer.

You’d deal with that later.

The Stormtrooper choked as you tightened the hold on him, obviously about to speak but then his head jerked, focusing over your shoulder.

The other footsteps – a pair. One heavy, one light and nimble.

Mayfeld, and Ahsoka.

You didn’t bother turning around as you heard them skid to a stop, Mayfeld sucking in a breath at the sight around you.

The fallen bodies of the Troopers, broken about and still smouldering, the blood coating the walls and the floor, the edge of your cloak trailing in it. The stench of death and the smell of molten plastic.

Mayfeld whistled low, “Fucking hell…”

You ignored them, focused on your prey, tightening that leash bit by bit.

It was like the very air around you was alive, more frantic than normal. Your power flared, tasting the death in the atmosphere, slipping through the ship like a poison and marking where each target was. Every single obstacle between you and your love.

You could feel their living souls, see them in your mind like glowing stars in the sky. You knew that if you went for them, you could close your eyes and still take them down as quickly and skilfully as if your eyes were open.

Is this how Haran was so good at killing? So skilled at finding people?

Without the distraction of sight and sound, you needn’t worry about the expressions on people’s faces, the noises they made as they died.

With your eyes shut, using this glittering map in your mind… they were merely lights to snuff out.

“If you follow this path… No one will be able to help you. You will have to make the choice whether to stay on it, or to fight your way out.” Ahsoka’s voice was a soft breeze in the night of your mind, softly lit in the same white as her sabers, of which one you held in your hand.

A symbol of strength… which you had used to destroy lives.

Your eyes opened slowly, gazing up at the Stormtrooper ahead of you.

A choice.

Seconds ticked by, seconds you knew were slipping away on the clock of Din’s life as you made up your mind.

The Trooper fell to the bloody floor and your voice was demanding, no room for argument, “Take us to your little master. I except he’ll be waiting.”

~~~

Booted footsteps rang out on the cold metal hallways.

The King of Shadows and Death could move like a whisper on the wind, as if the air itself parted around him and kept him silent.

But this time, he wanted to be heard.

He wanted the Mandalorian to know that his hope had been in vain.

He merely looked at the guards standing either side of the door and they nodded, one scanning the chip that would trigger the heavy locks in the door.

It swung open and Haran crossed the threshold, gazing down at the broken Mandalorian, slumped on his cot. He grinned, cocking his head, “Time’s up, Mando. Your saviour has come to rescue you from the enemy walls. Looks like you don’t know her as well as you thought.”

The Mandalorian growled, dried blood like rust on his beskar, “If you think you’ll walk out of this unharmed, you obviously don’t know her like you think you do.”

The last time Haran came to see him, he had healed his injuries just enough that Mando wasn’t permanently dancing the line between being awake and being unconscious. He did nothing to remove the pain, or the severity of them, but he had prevented infection. He’d also healed his legs to the point where he could walk – barely.

What good was a knight who fell before the Queen could finish the game?

Haran walked over to him, hauling him to his feet. The Mandalorian was the same height as him, so he gauged he was looking right into Mando’s eyes when he whispered, “I think I know her a lot better than you think. I can tell you that she would not have come here peacefully. And she would not have let go the people that stood in her path.”

Mando shook his head, trying to pull away from him but he was unsteady on his feet, the blood rushing from his head, “No. You’re wrong. She won’t listen to that call, to the... Dark Side or whatever it is. She’s walked that line before, and she’ll make the right decision again.”

Haran chuckled low, half dragging the beskar-clad knight out of the door, “Oh, I don’t doubt that she’ll make the right decision. But whether or not it’s right depends on which side you’re standing on.”

The Mandalorian groaned, hating that he couldn’t pull away from Haran, hated the weakness of his body, the unsteady, lurching footsteps of his still fractured legs and the armour that weighed down on his broken bones. “Why are you doing this? Why are you so obsessed with corrupting her? You’ve been living your sick little life for… however long it is now. Surely there’s some other person to terrorize?”

Haran scoffed, rolling his amber eyes, “You really need to get it through that thick skull of yours – I’m not corrupting her. I’m merely bringing back someone she’s tried to bury.” He looked over at Mando, raising his eyebrows, “Has she told you? About the time she had no code of honour, of mercy?”

The man beside him snarled, his leg giving way for a moment as agony rippled up his hip, his bones screaming, “What the fuck are you talking about now?”

It was easy to hold him up, despite the weight of his beskar and they walked down the imposing hallways, three Stormtroopers flanking them – whether it was to stop Mando trying something, or stop Haran having his fun, he didn’t know. Or care.

“There was a time, little hunter, where your precious princess slaughtered anyone who dared stand in her way. She was broken, hungry for vengeance and only to eager to have her fill.”

Mando was quiet for a moment, the heavy scuff-drag of his boots the only sound to be heard – one he probably hated as he moved nearly as silently as Haran did.

Something like triumph flickered over Haran’s face at his silence, “You truly didn’t know? Oh dear… There’s a lot she hasn’t told you, Lori. Things I’ve seen in her head that I doubt even she remembers she did.” He guided them around toward the corner, to where it would all come to a head.

And to where his power was tugging him, whispering to him of the state the next hallway had been left in.

The Mandalorian pushed away from him, summoning some kind of inner reserve of strength. He stopped, the guards pausing behind him and shifting their weapons as a warning. He looked at Haran, the harsh lighting bouncing off his beskar, revealing nothing of the man beneath and Haran wondered if he had revealed his face yet.

“You seem to think telling me these things will bother me or make me look at her differently. Whatever she’s done, whatever terrible things she’s committed… it doesn’t change the fact that I love her.” He stepped forward, ignoring the guards as they moved too, “I’ll tell you something, Shadow man. There is a light that burns within her, a fire that could rival the very stars up there.” He pointed to the ceiling, “And no ounce of darkness, be it her own past or your own twisted powers, will ever snuff it out.”

He moved that finger to jab Haran’s chest. “You tried to dump her at the bottom of a lake, and she came out burning brighter than before. So carry on, tell me all these horror stories to try and scare me away.” He shrugged, the rough baritone of his voice steady, ringing with loyalty and truth – and threat, “All you’re doing is making me love her even more.”

Golden eyes flicked between the visor, assessing. Plotting.

Then Haran smiled, a sinister, deadly smile as he inclined his head, “I don’t doubt for a second everything you said is true.” He brought his hands together behind his back, resuming the walk and he used his power to push the Mandalorian along. “I believe that you’re willing to throw down the gauntlet to protect her honour every single time someone threatens it. But I wonder… All you’ve heard is stories.”

He walked around the corner and stopped yet again, his dark power dragging Mando to his side. “What will you do when faced with the truth first-hand?”

The hallway was carnage.

A bloody battlefield.

Multiple bodies littered the stark floors, bright red blood sprayed all along the walls – even the ceiling. The once white armour of the Troopers was stained with the stuff, their bodies bent at unnatural angles, as if a strong power had taken hold of their limbs and yanked them in all the wrong directions until bones shattered and muscles tore.

The Mandalorian looked upon the scene, the blood coating the tips of his boots.

A dismembered hand lay just a few feet away and the severed wrist, the tendons hanging out of it... all singed. As if cleaved from the body by something white-hot and burning.

A lightsaber.

Which would explain why the hard shell-like armour of the fallen Troopers were marked with black holes and marks, the stench of melting plastic mingling with the reek of burnt bodies and blood.

This was the work of someone with deadly skill, usually so precise… pushed to the edge, to this.

Oh, it wasn’t mindless, not by any means.

It was clearly thought out… maybe even savoured.

Haran breathed in the smell like he was standing in a field of flowers, “Well. I have to say, I’m impressed. This looks like something I’d leave behind.” He walked through the mess of shredded bodies, a phantom wind lifting the edge of his cloak so it didn’t drag in the blood, “These poor soldiers never had the chance.” He crouched down, pushing the helmet of one Trooper – resulting in the head rolling a few inches away from his body.

He looked at the Mandalorian, raising an eyebrow as the fluorescent lighting brought out his scars, “Still singing her praises?”

The Mandalorian was silent, hands clenched at his sides but then he moved, not away from the scene, but toward it.

Through it.

Through the blood and flesh until he was standing right in front of Haran, feet splashing to a stop in the scarlet river, “Always.”

~~~

Moff Gideon was waiting for you as you were escorted into a large, open chamber.

He stood there, hands clasped behind his back, with a young girl at his side – presumably his second in command. There was a sick expression of glee on his face, dark eyes glittering with what he presumed was triumph.

Next to him, stood Haran, clad in black as always, with that embroidered cloak holding –

Din.

Oh, the sight of your Mandalorian threatened to bring you to your knees as you were stopped a few metres away.

You couldn’t see his body – obviously – but you knew simply from the way he held himself, that he was terrible injured.

He seemed to be bearing his weight to one side, slumped over even as he stood, and you could hear is laboured breathing from here.

Oh Din, what happened to you…

You had to admit, a small part of you wondered if there would be anything left of him when you arrived. Not from the possibility of torture, but simply from that terrible fall.

The thought of tumbling all that way down to the ground, encased in a rock-solid metal shell… You couldn’t even fathom it.

And yet, there Din was, still alive after something that should have killed him.

Clearly, the Maker had plans for him.

Gideon cleared his throat, watching the Trooper grunt retreat to the edge of the room, “Well, well. After all my time spent hunting you… Here you are.” He cocked his head, “I thought you’d be taller.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing, “Oh stars above, please tell me this isn’t another villain speech. I hate those.”

Haran’s lips twitched perhaps remembering this exact same conversation from his bunker.

You flickered your eyes to him, before looking back at Moff Gideon, who was looking at you with… a rather bored expression already.

“I was told you were insolent and arrogant, and I can see my sources were correct. They were also correct about how to summon you here.”

He looked over at Haran, “Though it took many years for someone’s ideas to actually bear fruit. Well done.”

Haran bristled slightly, as if taking praise from a mere human man irritated him.

You supposed it did.

Gideon was nothing compared to Haran, power or not.

“Well, I would hate to disappoint you, of course.” You shot him a sweet smile, venom in your eyes, “If you wouldn’t mind, do you think you could tell me what it is you want before I take my Mandalorian here and leave this dump.” You held up your comms watch, “I have a party in Coruscant I’m due to be at and it won’t look very good if I’m late.”

You thought you may have heard muffled chuckles from the line of Stormtroopers assembled behind him, but you paid it no heed.

Gideon bared his teeth at you, eyes blazing, and he brought a hand in front of him to point at Din, “Do you not realise, we have your precious bounty hunter captive? Do you not realise who is holding him?”

You looked over at Haran, shrugging lightly, “A guy who has interesting taste in fashion?”

Did Gideon not know about the bunker or the lake? Had Haran neglected to tell him you’d met before?

Haran revealed nothing in his expression, but there was something in his eyes… something ancient… some of betrayal? Of lies?

Moff Gideon snarled at you, “Insolent creature. You are here because we allowed you to be. In fact, the only reason that happened, is because of the failures of the people I sent after you. Had they done their job, you would have been broken long ago. That disgusting affliction of yours burnt out of you.”

Heat licked down your spine, and the atmosphere in the room shifted as the three Force wielders within it straightened at is words, the ugly discrimination in his words.

Dangerous game to play, Gideon.

You kept your breathing even, feeling the shadows prowl beneath your skin, teeth and claws still dripping with blood from the hallways, wanting more, “Have you ever wondered why you’re stuck here, chasing down women and babies?” You took a step forward, anger and pride for yourself, for Ahsoka, every Force Sensitive person both dead and alive making your voice carry strong over the empty air – even pride for Haran, in some way.

Gideon rose an eyebrow, “Do tell.”

“You’re stuck in the past. You believe that people like us,” You motioned to yourself, “You believe we are abominations. Freaks of nature. The Force is nature. It’s the very thing that binds us all together. There is no fear in it, no monstrosity. I don’t know why it’s so hard for you people to understand.”

The Officer sighed, shaking his head and moving a step closer as well, “Oh, I understand that. I wasn’t referring to the others in this room. I was referring to you. You, my dear, have been sick and twisted from the very moment you were born.”

Din pulled against Haran’s grip, growling in anger, “I’d advise you to stop speaking.”

Haran yanked him hard, “Stay quiet.” He spat the words at Din, but you didn’t fail to notice the murderous look he shot Gideon over Din’s head, his golden eyes livid.

A shaking had taken over your hands, so you clenched them tighter around your weapons, years of abuse playing in your mind.

But you pushed back against it, for you were stronger now. Stronger because of it, not in spite of it.

Gideon continued, looking upon you in disgust but there was a sick fascination here too, “You have been marked for death long before you showed your powers. You think it was coincidence that the hunter was stalking you in your miserable little village? She was there on orders.” He looked over you, “A child responsible for the deaths of her parents. You might as well have pushed the blade in your mothers flesh yourself.”

A roaring took over your head, filling your ears with the sounds of screaming, the stench of blood and the way the light sapped from your life as your parents died.

But… the world was different now.

It was bright again.

Because of Din, your friends… That’s why you were here.

You glared at Gideon, wanting so desperately to tear out his throat with your power, your hands, or even your teeth – but now wasn’t the time. You shook your head, “You don’t win this time, Gideon. I’m afraid your sad little life will be ruled by chasing me for just a little longer.” With that, you flung your hands wide, making your power explode through the room with a battering impact.

You felt another wave at the same time as yours, fuelling it – Ahsoka’s.

You only just managed to keep it free from Din, though Haran had thrown up a hand milliseconds before you, as if sensing what you were going to do – and evidently creating a shield.

Gideon and the Troopers weren’t quite so lucky.

The Force flung him through the air, causing his head to smash harshly against a metal beam and he crumpled to the ground, limp.

Haran spun to look at him, and it occurred to you – he should have protected him too. He was working for Gideon. Or… at least pretending to be.

Who was really calling the shots here?

No time for that now.

You used Haran’s distraction to throw yourself at him, activating the lightsaber and unleashing yourself on him with a strangled cry of rage.

He startled, just a few seconds too late and he pushed Din at you in an attempt to slow you down.

Perfect.

Just as you planned.

You were never really going to engage in battle with him, had never intended to attack him.

But you knew he would use Din as a shield, thinking you were too blidned in your rage – but you proved him wrong.

Din careened into you, stumbling against your body and you both nearly tumbled to the floor, but then Cara was there, helping you support his body as he wrapped an arm around you, “You came…” His voice was hoarse, weak with pain and exhaustion.

The relief and love in his voice nearly brought you to the ground, “Of course I came for you, Din. I will always come for you.” You gave him a watery smile, walking toward the others, keeping one eye behind you as Haran watched.

Why wasn’t he moving… Why wasn’t he attacking?

“I saw what you did.” Haran’s silken voice called out from behind you, making you pause in your retreat. “I know you feel it. The call to the Dark Side. And I know that you answered it.”

That would be why.

You slowed to a stop, forcing Din and Cara to slow too. “How do you know I answered it?” You looked straight ahead, still not turning around.

Haran sounded as though he took a step forward, “I felt it. I felt it when you allowed the Dark to show you how to get here. You saw the lives as glowing lights, a map to saving your Mandalorian. And the mess you left in that hallway…” He trailed off meaningfully, “You needn’t fear it, darling. It’s not evil. It’s merely… a different perspective.” His voice had melted into the same one that had coaxed you into swallowing the poison, into stepping off the edge.

Here you were, yet again. Only you weren’t standing on the precipice of a raging torrent… You were standing on the edge of the Dark Side.

And his words had instantly awoken it, set it pining for a life to be unleashed, untamed.

Slowly, you turned around, cringing when Din’s broken feet tumbled over each other too, so you slowly let go “A different perspective…?” You cocked your head, voice starting to sound unsure as his seductive baritone filtered through your mind, weaving around it.

He smiled, that gorgeous, disarming smile that instantly made you lock focus on him, “Yes. Others may tell you that the dark side is evil… But it isn’t. It’s simply using that power in a different way. Using it to get the things that you deserve.”

You swallowed, feet hanging over that metaphorical edge, “You – You promise? I can’t go back to that place. I can’t be a… monster again.” Your voice trembled over the word; eyes locked on his amber ones.

Din shook his head fiercely from your left, fighting against Cara’s hold as she pulled him away, but he was too weak, “No. Sweetheart, no. Stop listening to him, please… He’s lying to you. You don’t need this. You don’t need that darkness, princess. You’re so good, so strong… please don’t do this.”

And then you made a decision.

You ignored Din.

And walked toward Haran.

Stepping off of that edge.

Haran extended a gloved hand to you, “That’s it, darling. That’s it… Coming here doesn’t make you a monster, it just means you are claiming your birth right. This is where you belong.”

As you reached his presence, a feeling wrapped over you, muffling Din’s voice, the sounds of the others around you. You slid your hand through his, gasping a little as you felt your shadowy beast respond to his own, felt them twine around each other, greet each other.

“I don’t…” Uncertainty still clouded your expression, and you lingered a little, worrying you were making a fatal mistake.

He saw this, gently drawing you closer and into the circle of his arms, “No one will die. Your Mandalorian, your friends… We will help them leave safely and then… Then we can begin.” He guided your head to his neck.

Din’s voice, though muffled, was desperate, clawing at you, “No! Cyar'ika, you can’t. Please, I’m begging you. You don’t need to go to him, you don’t need to do this. I love you. I love you for who you are, for every single thing. I’m not afraid of you, of any single part of you.” He sobbed.

Din sobbed, reaching for you, “Please don’t leave me alone.”

You were glad your head was pressed to Haran’s neck, because the backs of your eyes burned, shame and guilt threatening to choke you.

You had to do this.

You had to do it now before you shattered completely.

You were quiet, and then just… went pliant in his arms. You raised your own to his back, winding around his lean frame and lifted your face from Haran’s neck, nuzzling your nose along his neck, “I believe you.”

“NO!!” Din fell to his knees beside Cara, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sweetheart, please don’t do this. Please-” The way his voice broke tore through your heart, and you nearly backed out right then and there.

But you didn’t because Din… He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand why you had to do this…

Haran’s arms tightened around you, one coming up to cradle the back of your head, “Good girl. I always knew you would see the light.” A deliberate, ironic choice of words form the King of Shadows and Death.

Din’s sobs speared though you, each devasted noise threatening the tears building in your own throat.

Raising on tiptoe slightly, you ran a hand down his back, the other splaying wide, ready.

You brushed your lips along the smooth line of his skin, breathing in the smell of wind and midnight, “There’s just… There’s one little thing…”

Haran nodded, his cheek resting against your hair, “Anything. Anything you want, it’s yours.”

His words muffled the soft sound of an object flying into your hand as you let out a breath against the shell of his ear, whispering, “I will never be your Queen.”

The sound of a lightsaber activating, not through air… but through flesh.

Haran’s choke of surprise – and agony.

You held his sagging body to yours, snarling, “That’s for the lake, you twisted asshole.” You stepped back, letting him fall to his knees, yanking free the lightsaber and savouring the gritted howl of agony as you tore back through more flesh and tendon.

Those amber eyes of his blazed like molten gold, deadly and furious, “You don’t know the mistake you’re making. You’re throwing away your life with these fools.”

You bared your teeth at him, raising the saber threateningly to his throat, letting it make the faintest contact, “Come after me again, and I will end you. I don’t care if you’re hundreds of yours old, or the King of Death or whatever else you call yourself. I’m not afraid of you. And I will destroy you before you can do the same to anyone else.”

With that, you quickly turned, bolting toward your family and friends, “Now!!”

Ahsoka flung her hands wide at the same time as you, creating a wide bubble of Force energy that blew through the space.

Every Stormtrooper in the area was knocked flat on their back, instantly out like lights as you threw your arm around Din’s shoulders, trying to get him up as he stared at you.

“What… I don’t…” His voice was bewildered, dazed with pain and he was heavy in your arms.

You whimpered just slightly, desperation and anxiety creeping forward, the edge of battle slowly fading, “I’ll explain everything later, we have to go now, Lori. Please.”

Mayfeld was suddenly there, supporting his other side and then you were all running for the cargo hold, leaving the destruction behind you.

Even as you ran, Cara and Fennec scouting ahead, Ahsoka behind you aiding with the energy bubble and Mayfeld helping you carry Din… You couldn’t quite figure out how you had pulled this off.

You’d done it.

~~~

Haran watched her leave, supporting the Mandalorian and hurrying away with her friends, her power combined with Tano’s to create an impenetrable shield around them all.

Well… He would have gotten through with half a thought – perhaps a whole one – but any of the other fools in this place wouldn’t stand a chance.

Many footsteps rushed into the room and then he felt hands on him, pushing away his own, trying to get to his wound.

He looked down, saw a medic with their pack open by his side, flitting and fiddling.

“Leave it.” His silken voice was hard ice, enough of a bite there to inform the medic what would happen if they didn’t leave.

Despite the medics healing instincts, they knew the tone well, and moments later the kit was packed up and Haran was already turning away from the retreating figure.

Strong.

She had grown stronger far quicker than even he had expected. He knew it was within her, but he had thought the trauma ran deeper, its claws embedded into her very soul and creating a barrier every time she would try to tap into the power.

Tano must have taught her how to master her fear, or how to get past it.

Useful, it saved him a job… but also irritating. If she was already harnessing that trauma, it would mean he could no longer use that aspect.

Haran walked the path she had taken, out to the cargo load, the harsh wind roaring across the space as the tech’s struggled to gain control of the ship again, to remove whatever bug the girl and her friends had slipped in.

No matter. It didn’t upturn his plans… just meant he had to work with a new angle.

And fortunately, he had one, courtesy of the would-be Queen herself.

Haran had come across the bodies in the hallway on his way in here, saw the way they were dumped on the ground with their limbs at unnatural angles, their armour shattered from the inside out.

And if the still smoking scorch marks all over their bodies weren’t indication enough, a sweep of his power had revealed massive internal devastation.

Haran stood with a gloved hand pressed to the bleeding wound as he watched the steadily shrinking shape of a ship. A mere thought had the hole stitching back together as he extended his fingers out slowly.

No one on the clean side of the Force would wreak havoc like that of the hallway, regardless of their love having been kidnapped and beaten.

And that meant simply one thing. And one thing only.

She was being called to the Dark Side.

And she’d heeded that call.

Maybe only temporary, but the Dark Side was like Haran himself. Once you let it in, once you got that first taste… it never truly left. She could deny it all she wanted, trick him with it, think it was merely a reaction from the stress of saving the Mandalorian, but it had already rooted within her.

He could feel it.

Haran tipped his head back and laughed, his ebony curls dancing across his forehead as the wind tugged and pushed at his tall, lean frame. A lone pillar of darkness, hovering at the edge of the world.

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#well this was a journey #the mandalorian x reader #edited because I realised I spelt Mayfeld wrong #the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #the mandalorian #rogue #pedro pascal

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youryanderedaddy · 3 years

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Lady Luck (pt. 1)

I was so hyped to write this lol. Heavily inspired by Kaiji <3

Tw: mafia mention, unrealistic potrayal of mafia, mentions of threats, implied obssessive behavior (will get more hardcore in the second part tho), mentions of gambling, kidnapping /not reader/

You knew that you were a scum, a lowlife, a miserable loser without much hope in life - that’s exactly why you had no problem joining the deadliest underground paradise and following under the steps of the Lucciano family. They controlled everything - the casinos, the drugs, the guns, the whores, you name it - they provided it. And you had nothing - neither a past, nor a future. But everything changed when the oldest son Thomas decided to help you get out of the mud and step onto your legs - he gave you a home, a friend to return to, a shoulder to cry on when reality felt too painful and harsh, just too much to bear on your own. “Why would you do that for a stranger?” You had asked him once while tipsy, sitting by the hearth, a slight blush adorning your soft cheeks. “That’s easy.” The man had responded right away without giving it much thought. “You remind me of myself.”

You spent long nights thinking about his words but never came to a conclusion - he was born into a powerful, wealty family, so it made no sense for him to have experienced rock bottom the way you had. And his small black eyes displayed such a variety of terryfing emotions - bloodlust, greed, sin and so much sadness. Why would a monster ever feel scared, you wondered.

Working for the Luccianos wasn’t especially hard or even dangerous - you ran small errands for them, took care of the younger kids, helped with insignificant deals, acted as a croupier when their staff was sick or missing or had to be taken care of, but one thing you were thankful for was how they never tried to force you into doing something you would never be able to forgive yourself for. Thomas was kind to you - always so considerate, willing to listen, to understand how you felt even when the worlds you two lived in differed so greatly. He was supposed to be villain of the story, big and scary, demanding, taking whatever he wants without asking and never feeling an ounce of regret about it. And for a while, you were suspicous of the man’s every move - you were desperately waiting for the mobster to fuck up and show his true colours so you could let yourself hate him, despise him. And yet the sweet, sweet moment of revelation never came. You knew, of course, of the many evil deeds the criminal bestowed upon thousands of innocent people each and every day, but you never witnessed it with your own eyes and when the man was treating you like a part of his family, holding you close and giving you chance after chance to prove yourself, it was slowly getting impossible to view him as the bad guy. Perhaps you should have waited just a little longer.

It happened during a warm, spring day. You didn’t expect it, you couldn’t. You had just finished your shift at midnight in the small shop you worked in, which belonged to Thomas’ mother, and were heading to the Lucciano mansion. It had been a particularly long and exhausting day, so you wanted nothing more than to feel the soft, silky, white sheets down your half-naked body while the quiet classical music took you to dream land and back. But upon opening the heavy wooden door, you quickly noticed something was different - there was no music, the big black TV in the middle of the hall was set to camera mode instead of the normal one, and it was awfully quiet. “They must have had to leave the country for a while.” You rationalised. “It has happened before after all.” You kept reassuring yourself while taking a tiny step towards the centre of the room where light was the strongest - it could uncover every hidden little detail.

And then the TV was turned on. You shifted your gaze up, paranoia eating at you from inside out. Soon there was clear image on the massive screen, but what you saw left you speechless. There were hours of footage from your personal life - working, hanging out with friends, eating, bathing. What made the shivers down your spine run cold was a scene where a guy, your boyfriend, was kissing you, touching you, undressing you with his praying eyes. It was nothing unusual for a young woman to have a love life, but this broke the only rule Thomas had told you upon entering the house - you were forbidden from having close relationships with men, especially dangerous ones, and for the longest time, you had no issue living by that as long as you came back to the luxury and warmth the mobster provided for you. Until you met him - a charming, clever member of a local gang. You knew it was wrong and could cost you more than you were willing to sacrifice and yet you still gave in. It was your first time experiencing the highs and lows of love, so who could blame you when it was such a magical feeling, a mixture of adrenaline and opium. Alex made you feel like a real human being instead of someone just existing, leeching off the stronger, wealthier species.

There was a shadow moving out from the corner, playing into your delusions. But soon enough you realised it was all a reality as none other than Thomas walked slowly towards you, clapping his hands dramatically, a sly smirk on his beautiful, scarred face. Did he...

"Congratulations." The man started off, dark eyes set on you, slowly coming closer and closer like a big black hole, ready to swallow you whole. "You went and got yourself a little boy - toy." The criminal chuckled viciously under his breath, making you cringe at the crude nickname he used. The situation felt surreal and yet the fear and panic were already suffocating you, making you dizzy wish regret. "I wish you would have told me though... I never thought someone I hold so important would lie to me." The mobster kept rambling, waving his arms in the air theatrically, while holding a lit cigarette, but never moving it to his lips - it was just a prop, a way to create a thick smoke mist in your eyes. It was finally the hour of judgement.

"What do you want?" You asked, faking confidence, desperate to take control of what was happening. It was a bizarre thing to see your dearest friend act in such a eerie, frightening way, almost treating you like one of his victims - nothing more than an indebted bastard or an unfortunate bystander, unlucky enough to catch a deal unfolding right behind the scenes. It hurt but you had forced this upon yourself and you had to fix it.

"Nothing much, really." Thomas replied, finally inhaling the deadly smoke into his open mouth. He played with his collar for a while, as if you weren't standing there, scared for your life. "I just want to teach you a lesson in obedience, doll." The mafioso continued, circling you slowly, his heavy gaze never leaving your body. You felt awfully exposed even when all your clothes were present, covering every inch of your skin. With a swift snap of his fingers, the man summoned most of the gorillas that worked under him. Two of them were dragging your kicking, screaming boyfriend towards the centre of the room, but a quick punch in the guts managed to quiet him down. He looked terrified, his face bloody and injured, covered in dust and misery. But he was still alive and only that mattered to you.

"I wanted to make this entertaining for all of us." The oldest Lucciano spoke out, his husky voice echoing trough the golden ceiling. He moved over to your lover and harshly pressed the cigarette butt against the exposed skin of his unprotected arm. The man cried out in pain, silently pleading you to help with his big, terrified eyes. And here you were, as helpess as he was - if not even more. "So I decided to initiate a little gamble of sorts, ya know?" Thomas winked at you, smiling with malice. You couldn't help, but recall all the times you two had played poker together, betting less than pocket change. You never understood why the man always got so excited despite winning such small sums, especially when his casinos already did well. But now you could see it clearly - he got off crushing his opponent, taking the victory under their noses. Money meant nothing. As long as he was able to ruin your mood, your life, the man was pleased.

Soft white light lit up the furthest corners of the hall and you saw dozen square boxes, arranged in a circle. It looked harmless enough on its own, still they were stamped with Thomas’ symbol - a dove. You used to wonder why someone in the most dangerous depts of mafia would choose such an innocent, sweet signature pf representation and now the answer was right in front of you - that way it was easier to trick the enemy into thinking they were safe. And how wrong were they.

“As you can see, there are nine wooden boxes in total. They look exactly the same and on top of each one there is a hole.” Thomas stopped to point at them, the raw anticipation flooding his otherwise dull pupils. “Six of the boxes are empty. In the other three though, there are placed some of the most poisonous snakes in the world. One bite and you are dead.” The madman gave a loud, breathy laugh while your boyfriend squirmed uncomfortably in place, restrained by the strong arms, holding him down. “Both of you will take four turns putting your hand in the boxes. After every round the box would be closed off and you would be able to choose only from the remaining ones. ” The mobster grinned widely, looking at your horrified expression. You couldn’t believe that the man was willing to put your lives on the line simply because you had neglected one of his orders. “Now you may be wondering where the suspence is - after all you would probaby manage to hear the hissing from afar and avoid the place it comes from. Rest assured, my foolish little friends. Right now the snakes are heavily intoxicated and absolutely silent - which doesn’t mean, of course, that they won’t attack any soft flesh they see. If you die, that’s on you, but if you survive, you will be rewarded.” Thomas clapped his hands together and his man let go of your lover, resulting in his falling to the ground with a heavy bang. Thomas pursed his lips together.

“Shall we get started?”

#yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere mafia #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere gambling #yancore

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petri808 · 3 years

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1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Inukag Royalty Au *in honor of Tanabata coming up, it was worked into the chapter 😊

“Oh, look Rin, there’s a traveling marionette show today. Do you want to watch?” She and Kagome had been wandering around the marketplace when they stumbled onto it.

“Yeah!” The child squealed in delight. “I’ve seen them before and they’re really good!”

“I think we got here just in time,” Kagome scanned for a seat. “There,” she pointed, “let’s sit down before it starts.”

It was quite amazing to see this group of traveling entertainers. Such troops would pass through her own kingdom, but Kagome was rarely allowed to leave the castle to watch them. From what she could see on their signs, they put on different shows for adults with a variety of acts, and puppet shows for the children, staying for a few days before moving onto the next town. The story they were about to perform was a classic tale of the star-crossed lovers Orihime and Hikoboshi. It was cute, albeit a bittersweet tale of eternal longing. Just as the show was getting ready to start, Kagome felt a body sit down beside her. She glanced over with her peripheral to make sure they weren’t a problem and noticed a familiar set of claws on the persons hands.

“Prince?” Kagome whispered not wanting to draw attention. “What are you doing here?”

“Miroku and I saw you two,” Inuyasha whispered back.

Kagome leaned forward a tiny bit and noticed Miroku on the other side of Inuyasha who nodded in recognition. “I see…”

“We we’re bored,” Inuyasha threw in, “so decided to join you.”

The comment made Kagome chuckle, which then caught Rin’s attention, who looked over and saw the men. The child’s eyes lit up at seeing her uncle and in her excitement, she got off her seat and quickly plopped herself onto Inuyasha’s lap.

“Guess I’m just a chair now,” he chuckled too. "Behave and watch the show or I’ll kick you off my lap.”

“I’m always a good girl,” the child retorted with a grin before turning back to the stage.

And she was. Rin sat enthralled by the whole production. They really were as good as she’d portrayed to Kagome. From the quality of the marionettes to the actor’s voice work, they truly pulled you into the story. But for the adults, it brought on a different wave of emotions, at least it did for Kagome. While the story was beautiful, she could identify with Princess Orihime’s longing for the one she’d fallen in love with despite her father’s rules… and to be torn apart because of it… At least, the Princess in the tale got to see her love once a year. Kagome won’t be able to do the same. She didn’t notice the small frown growing on Inuyasha’s face, because she avoided looking in his direction. He was her Hikoboshi, but she didn’t want him to notice the moisture clouding her eyes or realize how much the story was having an effect on her.

Once the final act was complete, the puppeteers came out from behind the curtain to bow to the audience’s wild applause. It was a great success for most including Rin who was clapping and bouncing on her uncle’s lap with excitement. Kagome was happy the child enjoyed the performance even though it took a toll on her.

“I love this story…” both Kagome and Inuyasha mumble at the same time, causing them to stiffen and turn to face the other.

“You do?” Inuyasha questioned.

“It’s sweet,” Kagome responded with heat coloring her cheeks. “Even though I feel bad for them.”

“Me too.” Inuyasha mumbled. “It’s not fair.”

Her eyes slightly widen, fully understanding what he was feeling in that moment. But as much as she would have loved to say more, Kagome knew she couldn’t, not in public like this.

“What’s not fair?”

Leave it to Rin to bring them back to the present.

“Oh, um,” Kagome quickly gave her attention to the little girl. “What uncle Inu means is it’s sad that Orihime and Hikoboshi only get to see each other once a year.”

After a brief pause, the child’s eyes widened. “Ohhhh,” Rin acknowledged her understanding. “Yeah, that’s not very fair. But at least they found someone.” She turned around and looked up. “Isn’t that a good thing uncle Inu?”

Again, the innocence of a child worked wonders for lightening the mood.

“Yes,” Inuyasha smiled down at his niece. “It is a good thing.” But his eyes drifted towards Kagome as he continued. “I’m sure Hikoboshi appreciates all the time he gets to spend with his Orihime.”

For several seconds the pair hold a gaze with one another. No words needed to communicate a sense of longing despair. Kagome may have been painfully aware of Inuyasha’s insinuation, but so was Miroku. The princes guard cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. “Inuyasha, we should get back to our patrols.” He spoke matter of fact.

“Right,” the hanyo grumped. Miroku constantly warned him about letting his true feelings slip, and even though he knew his friend was just looking out for him, Inuyasha didn’t need to like it. He sighed. “Okay Rin, time to get off. Uncles gotta go back to work.”

“Okay!” Rin jumped off his lap and stood next to Kagome who’d also risen to her feet. “We should finish our shopping and get back to the castle too,” she took hold of the child’s hand. “Say goodbye to your uncle Rin.”

“Bye uncle Inu!” She waved as the pair made their way back into the throng of market goers.

For the rest of the day, Kagome pushed aside the incident in the marketplace. Why think about it when it would only make her sadder at her circumstances, especially since for Rin it had been a fun experience hanging out with her uncle. She didn’t want the child to see that side of life for as long as possible. Even at dinner, Inuyasha was quieter than usual, but Kagome didn’t want to assume anything, so she went about her routines like normal pretending everything was fine. Sometimes it was easier to ignore reality. That is until Rin was already tucked into bed and Kagome headed towards the library to get some reading done. If there was one thing that could take her mind off most things it entailed drowning her thoughts in an academic book.

Most of the time.

Of all the stories that troop could have chosen for a children's play, why a sad love story? Why not a fanciful fairytale like a prince saving a princess from an evil villain or an adventurer searching for treasure and fame? But it wouldn’t be fair to pin all her woes on the performers. The Tanabata story was a popular one after all. Kagome sighed as she shifted in her seat to pull her legs up and under her body. The book she'd chosen was about medicinal herbs because she was curious about useful treatments. She'd hoped the interest would be enough to pull her away from thinking about the play, but it wasn't working. Maybe she just needed to give herself more time to process everything. 'Or maybe you need to do the opposite and stop thinking about anything!' Kagome chided herself. She really did need to stop letting her emotions control her. 'You're supposed to be hiding out here, remember?!'

It was the sound of approaching footsteps that caused Kagome to stop reading and look up from her book. Was it a guard? Nope, just Inuyasha.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Inuyasha dropped onto the couch next to her. “I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

“Inuyasha? What’s wrong?” She put the book down when she saw the anger brimming in his eyes. “Did something happen?”

The prince let out an annoyed sigh. “I just had a huge fight with my dad.”

“A fight? Over what?”

“You.”

“Me?!” Her eyes widened. “Did I do something wrong?!”

“No, no, not you,” he grabbed her hands. “It’s all me. I… I-I told him— I told him that I refuse to honor the agreement to marry someone else. He wouldn’t even tell me who she is, so how would I ever be okay with it? I just can’t! Not when I’m already in love…”

Kagome swallowed back hard. “You are?”

His grip tightened, gaze turned serious and focused. “I told him I was in love with you. Kagome I can’t deny that anymore no matter how much I tried.”

“But you know we can’t—”

“I know, I know, it’s crazy, but after that story…” Inuyasha let go of her hands for a moment to gesticulate. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about it! I told him I’d rather stay single for the rest of my life if it meant still being around you… even if that’s all I get to have. I just want to stay in your life in any way I can.”

Kagome didn’t know what to say. With all her heart she wished it could work, but knowing she too was living a lie that she couldn’t reveal coupled with such a major potential for scandal… her voice lowered in hesitation. “Inu this is crazy…”

“Do you love me?” Is all Inuyasha blurted out.

“Yes—” she spoke from the heart, “but—”

Inuyasha took her hands again and brought them to his chest. “Then that’s enough for me.”

Despite his efforts to reassure her, Kagome couldn't be happy about this declaration of love. She'd heard some of the whispers starting around the castle about their forbidden relationship. What if someone started to talk? What if someone started to question her true origins? All it would take is someone mentioning to the wrong person the woman in the castle who'd stolen the prince’s attention. And what about the royal family? How will they treat her now? Will they see her as a jezebel? A woman who’d infiltrated their life to cause problems?? Kagome shook her head. “But there must be consequences!” She knew all too well as a hypocrite, the rippling damages that could occur from breaking such trusts. “You don’t just break an agreement like that without consequences.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I give you, my word. As for me, I can handle my dad. He was angry but believes he can make it work, probably honor the rest of the deal just minus the marriage part.”

“Which was?”

“In exchange for the marriage, we guaranteed to protect that kingdom. They’re smaller than us, so they really have no choice but to take the amended deal because it at least assures them of safety.”

Kagome was so torn in that moment about what to do. She couldn't tell him the truth yet, not because she didn't trust him, but because she didn't want to burden him with it. If anyone were to find out who she really was, they might notify her parents and her life at the palace would truly be over with. It was selfish, but could anyone blame her? This was the first time in her life she's experienced freedom and happiness. Ugh, why’d she have to fall in love with Inuyasha? Why’d Inuyasha have to fall in love with her? Is fate always so cruel? First the idea of an arranged marriage, but now to be stuck in a forbidden one. Was she cursed? Were they both cursed?

“Y-You’re sure your father won’t hold this against me? Because I-It wasn’t planned. I never intended for any of this to happen.” The tears had begun to fall down Kagome’s cheeks at the enormous weight levied onto her shoulders.

“Neither had I,” Inuyasha wiped at the tears and cradled her cheek. “Neither of us could have controlled what our hearts desired.”

“But I’m scared Inu…”

“I swear on my life nothing will happen to you and if it comes to it, we’ll run away, far away and hide just me and you.” He leaned their foreheads together. “I don’t care about my title. I just want to be with you.”

“I wanna be with you too,” Kagome breathed out.

“Then have faith in our destiny.” Inuyasha tilted Kagome’s face up and swept his lips over hers, earning a shivering sigh. He then centered and placed pressure into a deeper kiss.

Kagome melted into the kiss as her fingers moved up and gripped to his shirt. Let her fears be damned in that moment, for if this earned her banishment in the end, just tasting his lips this once… she could die happy knowing she’d felt love. It was more than she ever thought she’d achieve in this gilded life.

“I’ll try,” she whispered an honest answer. “In you… I’ll believe…”

#inukag #inukag fan fic #inukag fan fiction #inuyasha #kagome higurashi #inukag au #royalty au #inuyasha x kagome #inukago #ch 5 #the irony of fate #petri808

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youarejesting · 4 years

Text

Herb Jimin x reader

Pairing: Dealer!Jimin x Reader Beta: @bubblebunnylia Genre: Romance, Smut, Fluff, NSFW Rating: recommended 18+ (or whatever the legal age is in your country) Words: 3.3k Warnings: Blow job, oral female receiving, voyeurism, sex, cum mentioned, slightly rough but not extremely, unprotected sex. Summary: Jimin was the mary poppins of drug dealing. What ever you wanted he had and he NEVER disappoints his customer. That is until he met you. He finally decides to take matters into his own hands to fulfil your order.

[Masterlist] [Herb.2]

Not much was known about the young Korean man who showed up to all the parties. No one knew how he got there. All anyone knew was that he was the biggest flirt and had the herbs everyone wanted. Honestly, it didn’t matter what you wanted, he had it somehow.

Everyone has their story with him. ‘I said I needed a bandage and he had it’, ‘I asked if anyone had any cat food cause we found a stray cat and he wipes out a bag, it was weird’, ‘He is like a sexy Mary Poppins, he gives you the dank weed but he also has pool floaties in his bag’ and you’re personal favourite ‘I was so hungry and he pulls out a whole casserole and apologized because he ran out of vegetable bake’. You had heard it all, it seemed like drunk fairy tales but no good party was without him.

You remember when you first met he asked you if you needed anything, and when you asked him for love he froze up and apologized, sheepishly claiming he didn’t have it. You knew he had his limits and that’s what kept you skeptical of his abilities. But something about his charming nature keeps you searching to meet him again.

And it wasn’t hard. You met him, again and again. Each time he approached you and asked if you needed anything, you always replied the same. “Love” and he would always grow quiet. You thought one day he might actually come up with a solution but you were yet to find out.

You were at one of ‘these’ parties, it wasn’t really your scene. Usually, you had no problem but tonight you really just couldn’t deal with it. It had been a long day and you had a headache. So you were trying to find a place to take a quick nap, using the stairs to stray further from the heavy base, which had started to cause some anxiety within your body. The sound upstairs was muffled and yet still so loud. Hoping to find an empty room and an equally empty bed so you could rest.

You opened the first door to see if you were correct. This was Namjoon’s bedroom and there was an unspoken rule of no sexual activities in the host’s bed. Opening the door to see a modern style bedroom with white and black furniture and a few figurines. On the bed was the Host Namjoon with his boyfriend Seokjin kneeling on his knees in front of him.

“Can I help you, Y/n?” You weren’t surprised that he knew your name, Namjoon knew everybody. But you were surprised by their blatant disregard of modesty. You had to seal your expression from the two and the sexual act being performed was making your ears grow warm in embarrassment.

“Ah, I was looking for somewhere to take a nap.” You admitted while looking away. You didn’t want to overreact, only the coolest of kids got invited to Namjoon’s parties and you thought after high school popularity wouldn’t matter, but it still does.

Everyone at these parties had high libido’s. I mean, they are friends with Namjoon himself. If you were invited, you have either previously had relations with the host or you were a planned notch on the insatiable young man's belt.

You were invited after a heated make-out session in the university’s auditorium with Namjoon and his loquacious boyfriend Seokjin.

Though your head was in fact turned you were still able to hear every obscene noise. The wet suction and smacking of lips, the throaty moans of Namjoon and the muffled encouraging moans and other elicit sounds from Seokjin. You could hear Seokjin's throat squelch around the large cock and you fought the urge not to blush any further.

“We will be finished in a— ahhh!” He hunched forwards, fingers clutching firmly to Seokjin’s blonde locks as his forearms tensed, the veins popping out. You saw every thrust of his hips. Seokjin waited patiently, you heard and saw how thick he swallowed and felt your pulse beating rapidly in your tight jeans.

With every thrust he would swallow again. You could clearly see in detail the pronounced girth of the shaft sliding in his throat with fervor. Until the broad-shouldered gentleman pulled back in order to breathe, the action sending another twitch to Namjoons hips, and a final shot of cum just made it to the edge of Seokjin’s mouth and lips.

“We are done!” Seokjin said, standing as Namjoon readjusted his large and yet softening member back into his pants. “You can have the room or perhaps if you want we can entertain you?”

The two smirked and you again, trying to play it cool, gave them a flippant reply. “No I really am tired and want to sleep, I was working on a thesis all night last night and–”

“Say no more sweetheart, rest.” You avoided the place at the end of the bed where the two lovers had been. Snuggled in the blankets while falling asleep slightly as your head touched the pillow. Seokjin switched the light off and shut the door, allowing you to drift off peacefully.

The light switch flicked on and even with your eyes closed you felt blinded. You couldn’t stop the harsh shriek that pierced the air. “What? What is it now!?”

“I am sorry,” the voice was soft and familiar as its owner switched the lights back off, “Can I sit for a moment?”

“Sure.” you mumbled, laying back down. You could smell the stranger’s beautiful cologne and you got curious as to who it might be.

“I just need to hide out for a while, someone not so nice is looking for me.” Their voice was hard to describe but sounded like a melodic ache.

“Who are you?” You asked, suspicious of the stranger climbing into the bed with you.

“Who is asking?” The tiny trill showed he was amused by his dismissive answer, he was trying to act cute. You turned on your phone and used the light of your lock screen to examine the stranger’s face. Ash-blonde hair parted on the side, he smiled, wetting his thick lips with his tongue.

“Ah, it’s you.” dropping your arm back to the bed, no longer feeling uncomfortable. All the encounters you had with him were pleasant, he always used endearments because he never remembered names.

“You know me, baby?” He took his phone and repeated your process to stream a soft light over your face. “Oh my, baby it is you! What are you doing in here sleeping? You're usually the brightest in the room.”

“Huge Thesis.” you mumbled and he hummed, taking your hand.

“Hey listen, how about I make you an offer tonight? You can ask for anything you want and I will give it to you for half the price. If I don’t have it I will give you the next best thing for free.” the lamp beside the bed was clicked on, giving a soft orange glow throughout the room.

“Something warm?” You hummed while looking over at him curiously. You were craving a body. To be exact, human contact and love. He opened his jacket.

“I got a warm meatball sub, a packet of lollipops, and a container of home cooked spaghetti. I got spare underwear in all different sizes, this is a set of slippers when your feet get sore in heels, juice mixers, spirits. I got herbs for days, this one will make you happy, this one calms you down, this one here has you seeing pretty colours, this one has you sleep until morning, this is my house special, it tastes like a cinnamon donut.” he looked over. “Anything yet?”

You shook your head and he sighed, lifting a gym bag onto the bed, “alright brace yourself, I got spare clothes, ramen packets, a scented candle, batteries, pet food. I got condoms, a razor, a vibrator, lube. I have painkillers, cold medicine, I have this thing which I think was an Easter egg. I got a 3DS, a switch and a variety of games. I got a can of tomato soup, yet no can opener, weird. I got a heat pack, I got this adult diaper and I don’t know why, and a spiderman comic?”

“No,” you sighed.

“Tell me what you want and if I know I don’t have it it’s free.” he hummed, running his hand through his hair and looking so amazing while his plush lips were always so glossy and soft looking.

“I want a fuck,” you breathed, “a good stress relieving fuck.”

“Aha, I do have what you want!” He held up the vibrator and you shook your head.

“No, I want heat and hands and so much more. I need to be loved right now, I need to just fuck until I forget everything. Last I checked I can’t get plowed into the mattress by a vibrator. So, unless you have a willing male hidden in that bag I don’t think you have what I want.”

“Not in my bag, no, but I have one under my jacket,” he pulled his jacket off and held his arms out, “and I am free.” he grinned kneeling beside you.

“I have never done a deal like this, I am going to be honest. No one has ever asked for this. Would you like to make the purchase?”

“You sure you have what I want?” You bit your lip after you said it because look at him, he was sexy as hell and he knew it.

“I can fuck you until you forget everything, you won’t know anything but my name.”

“But I don’t know your name?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Really? Pretty baby doesn’t know my name?” He pouted “What do you call me in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I call you the herb man.” he laughed heartily, looking too cute for this proposition, almost falling over from his cute giggles causing you to sigh. “look, maybe I’ll just go home?”

“I have a reputation, I have what everyone wants. If word gets out that I, Park Jimin, let someone down not once but multiple times? I- we just can’t have that. Now tell me how you want it.” he smiled, pulling his hair back with his fingers and revealing his forehead whilst licking his lips. You felt like you just got slapped with how quick he went from a soft boy to this deep gazed daddy.

“I don’t know..” you whispered, lying. He cupped your cheek looking you in the eyes and trying to search them for what you needed. Maybe he was just a people pleaser, he couldn’t let anyone down. You didn’t know why he was always so eager to make others happy.

“Kissing, touching, fingering, oral sex, what positions? What’s your kinks? I can provide it all.”

“I want it all,” you whispered. He rolled on top of you, straddling your hips and caging you in with his body as he took your chin, tilting it upward and pecking you gently. Gauging your reaction, he looked down at you, you were looking up at him pleading for him to use you. But this wasn’t about him. He wanted to give you what you wanted.

He kissed you slowly, deeply, you felt loved, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. He grinned, pulling off his shirt before continuing to kiss you. His hands starting to wander along your body as he massaged your breasts, squeezing them, making you whimper and moan into his mouth.

His plush lips moved to your neck and he smiled when he found out how sensitive you were there. “You bought me, pretty baby. Use me however you wish.”

Without hesitation you grabbed his face kissing him again and running your fingers through his hair. The music downstairs was loud but you still refused to make too much noise. His hands slid down your side and thighs before sliding back up and lifting your dress, revealing your underwear which he quickly slipped down your legs. He didn’t waste any time.

Spreading your legs and smiling up at you. “Please,” You breathed and he smirked, biting your thigh. You yelped feeling yourself grow wetter.

“My name is Jimin, use it?”

“Please Jimin.” You said and he smiled thankfully, obliging to your whines.

“With pleasure my pretty baby.” He gripped your thighs and took your clit in his mouth, it was so sudden. You were so surprised that a loud moan pulled from your chest. You tried to stifle your moans and he mumbled, “Make noise baby, no one can here you and no one cares.”

He began making enthusiastic noises while he caressed you with his tongue. He alternated between sucking and flicking your clit, his fingers curling up inside you pressing against all the sweetest spots. Your thighs trembled in his hands and he giggled against you, pulling back with his chin glistening. “You’re shaking.”

“Please jimin I need you!”

“Ooh, you sound pretty when you say my name.” He smiled, removing your dress entirely and your bra before he took his belt, unbuckling it. You noticed the bulge in his pants as he slid his tight ripped jeans and briefs off. He took himself in his hand pumping lazily, he was more than ready.

“Is this really what you want?” He asked softly, calling your eyes back to his, he looked shy once more. As he grabbed a condom, you took it from him, and threw it onto the bed hands pulling him down over you.

“I am on the pill,” your words made him smile, nudging your legs wider apart with his thighs and lined himself at your entrance. He took his time entering you, rolling his hips forward, sliding effortlessly inside you. Each thrust fills you up completely.

“I apologize if I finish too quickly,” His eyebrows knitted together in concentration, his mouth forming an o-shape, his breathing becoming forced pants. “Oh god, you feel so good, I’m sorry!”

He came. The sounds he made were beautiful and you felt disappointed as he pulled out. He smiled, “I always last longer the second time, if you are still willing? I haven’t satisfied you yet and that is what’s important. It is what you asked for.”

At your enthusiastic nod he flipped you over, pressing his hand to the small of your back and guiding you into position, your hips rolling forward so you were at the perfect angle to receive him.

“Oh fuck!” You gasped, this made him feel deeper inside of you and the angle has him pressing heavily against your G-spot. Making you cry out every time. “Don’t stop, please!”

“Don’t worry pretty baby, I would never until you tell me you are satisfied.” He grunted, reaching around your waist to press two fingers against you, stimulating you further in time with his thrusts.

“Jimin, please!” The urgency in your tone was registered by him; he pressed your chest into the mattress and pistoned his hips trying to help you finish. Your eyes flashed white as an immense pleasure filled your body. You couldn’t hear anything or see anything, lost in a void of white for eternity, while the pleasure screamed through your body. It was maddening with how nice it felt, but it faded back to reality and your eternity of bliss was, in fact, mere seconds.

Jimin didn’t stop, flipping you back over. He was inside you again. You came again in a short time and he looked down amazed. “Seems you come quicker the second time,”

“More!” You pleaded as you were chasing your high, that moment in the white void of pleasure when there was nothing else and you had no other worries.

He kept going. Each orgasm becoming less intense, and harder to reach. Until finally, instead of a white void you saw black and it was peaceful. But you weren’t alone. Jimin was there, just with you and you felt safe.

You woke up a while later to people talking. Realising the dark void was actually a dream, involving you and Jimin. Opening your eyes you saw Namjoon and Jin standing at the end of the bed while Jimin spoke to them quietly. “She passed out after seven rounds.”

“Next time invite us to join. It is my room,” Namjoon laughed and you turned to see Jimin beside you, sitting up, dressed in everything but his shirt.

“You are awake.” He had a placed a damp cloth on your head, “I am sorry if it was too much, I didn’t mean to make you pass out.”

“No, it was amazing.” You laughed.

“Was everything okay, pretty baby?” He raised an eyebrow and tucked your hair behind your ear. Your cheeks flushed, “Anything you like or dislike so I know for next time?”

“Next time?” You asked.

“Of course, if you need me again,” he smiled.

“Um, well, you are really good at oral, I am sure other girls will enjoy that a lot, so keep doing that, but some girls might not like a fast pace so keep that in mind.”

“Hey, listen I am not planning on doing this with anyone else this is an exclusive offer for you.” He smiled rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t really like sharing and it would feel too much like cheating if I did this with every girl that asked. I am a one at a time guy, if you ever need me, I am here.”

“Oh thank you, I will call if I ever need anything.” You nodded, taking your phone from him and turning to the other two grinning in the room.

“You are both so cute,” Seokjin pointed at you both. You stepped out of the bed wearing Jimin’s shirt. It was quite large on you since he wore baggy clothes often. You felt a warm trickle and looked down to see the small trail of liquid both Jimin and yourself had created. It continued to run down your thigh, a hot white liquid that made each male in the room moan at the sight. Namjoon licking his lips, as if imagining the taste.

“Next time you use my room we all have to share.” Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows, earning a slap to the back of his head by Seokjin.

“Didn’t you just hear him say he doesn’t share?”

“Look at the mess you made on my bed, that is amazing!” Your eyes widened as you turned to see the sheets darkened with mixed arousal, jimin was as flushed as you, his phone buzzing.

“Someone downstairs needs something to eat,” You saw him adorn his hoodie and duffle bag, reaching into his Mary Poppins Esque bag and grasping the container of spaghetti he had mentioned earlier. “If you need anything let me know.”

You went to the ensuite and got dressed, looking in the mirror. You looked happy, even you could admit that. “How is she so blind, he looks for her at every party, always asks her if she needs anything because he hopes he can talk to her,” Seokjin said “Jimin and y/n I ship them so hard!”

“I will ship you so hard, come here.” You heard them start kissing and ducked out. “Thank you for letting me rest and use your bathroom!” You smiled, waving as you left the room before they could start anything.

Calling it a night you wanted to return the shirt Jimin let you borrow, he was over by the pool handing out a few things and he waved with a smile. “Jimin,” you said as you got closer, “Your shirt!”

“Ah thanks,” He placed it into his duffle bag and you nodded, feeling awkward. “I am going to go.”

Halfway to your car you heard, “Wait, Y/n!” you turned on instinct, genuinely surprised he knew your name. He stopped in front of you. “I um, I wanted to you know-”

He rambled for a while and you thought perhaps you or he was having a stroke. None of it made sense and you blinked. “Jimin slow down, I am listening!”

“I asked you every party for almost a year what was the one thing you wanted and you answered love every time and I was thinking...” He took a deep breath looking at you nervously playing with the hem of your dress. “Do you maybe want to go out?”

If you like this please hit the heart or the button that looks like you are trying to throw it in reverse in UNO to share this with others. If you enjoyed the story please feel free to check out some of my other stories on my [Masterlist]

Click here for [Herb.2]

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zhansww · 4 years

Note

Do you think the actors from The Untamed (yibo and xiaozhan) are in romantic relationship? Or just friends? I see many opinions, but i'm new and idk any backstory or sth, idk anything about them, i don't have speculations. I want to know your thoughts? and I hope you're having a good day!

I suppose at this point, I’m more inclined to believe they are than to believe they’re not. More importantly, though, I don’t think the nature of their love really matters. They are close friends or they may indeed be lovers but either way, it’s a win for them and for anyone who supports them both. I think (most?) cp fans believe they’re real, are fully aware that they could be wrong but in case they’re right, they want ggdd to know that they are being supported. Also, just to be clear, I don’t ship them, I’m on the side of the supporters.

Regarding their “backstory” and all the speculation… this is gonna be long. Mind you, there is a lot of speculation. Like, seriously it’s so damn much. And me, I think a lot of it is reaching - which is easy to dismiss, tho. The rest is actually sensible but even among those more reasonable speculations, I find that some of them just don’t seem important. Everyone makes that distinction for themselves, tho, I guess. Anyway, here goes: the (supposedly) first time they met was on the variety show Day Day Up. Yibo is a host on that show and Zhan-ge, with his group X Nine, was a guest in March 2017. They both talked about that in interviews and said that they didn’t leave an impression on each other back then. The (supposedly) next time they met was before they started filming CQL - which was filmed from April to August 2018. Let me direct you to this comparison interview at this point. The first one is from July 2018 and the second one musta been filmed no more than a month later. They talk about the first time they met and their first impressions when they started working together. While working on CQL, they used their free time to play games or eat together and also to go out. There are photos of them, going out to eat, too. Either just them or with other cast members. They spent both of their birthdays together that year. They were still on set on August 5th - there’s this behind the scenes video of it. And on October 5th, Zhan-ge had a concert to attend and Yibo was in the same city or a near one, I don’t recall, and he visited gg together with XL. Gg uploaded photos of them on his weibo that evening. In July 2019, they started doing a lot of interviews, attending variety shows and all that to promote CQL. During the fanmeeting on 190712, dd got asked to dance and gg got asked to sing. Gg sang Kepler by his favorite singer Stefanie Sun and changed the lyrics from “I became a star” to “I fell in love with a star”. On 190715, gg was a guest on DDU again, this time alone as a friend of Yibo’s. There is a lot from 190729 I could mention but I’ll just give you my personal favorite. When asked to describe the summer of CQL in three words, dd said “zhenqingshigan” which essentially means to say he wasn’t acting but in fact portraying his real feelings. I still can’t tell if he was teasing or being bold but you can watch that whole interview here, it’s at 6min. On 190810, their episode on Happy Camp was released along with fans, releasing their fancams which made bxg theorize that the Gucci ox-head necklace that Yibo has been wearing since June 2019 was given to him by gg. I wrote about that theory in detail before, here. On 190831, this happened. Fun fact on that note; Yibo used to always just use his phone for games, according to himself. But when he got asked last July what he couldn’t live w/o outside of his hobbies, he said his phone and specifically mentioned wechat. In 2019, gg and dd’s schedules didn’t allow them to spend their birthdays together but they both made weibo posts, congratulating e/o. On 190921, during the fanmeeting in Bangkok, before they started playing games dd told gg to take care of his waist - which was kinda hilarious cuz during the previous fanmeeting in July, Yibo got mad at the MC for making a comment about Zhan-ge’s waist. Guess he’s the only one who’s allowed to comment on his gege’s waist, hmmm. On 191101/02, they attended the CQL concerts in Nanjing which were the final events for their drama. On 191108, Yibo’s company released court documents, suing six antis for slander. Five of those were XZ fans and Yibo antis and the sixth was anti bjyx (their cp). On that same day, before those news broke, gg changed his weibo settings, presumably so that no one could dig through his weibo to use anything against him. Also, C fans speculated that dd musta paid weibo to keep gg’s name out of it cuz when the topic of the lawsuit started trending, gg’s name wasn’t mentioned. The theory here is that dd and gg did this tgt. Or else, dd did it for gg since gg himself can hardly do anything against people who claim to be his fans but hate seeing him near Yibo. Either way, gg musta changed his weibo setting cuz he knew what was being made public that day. The way I see it, they were basically working tgt to get rid of people who don’t like them tgt which would go to show that w/e they have is smth that they intend to make last. On 191110, they performed at the Singles Gala concert and afterwards, they supposedly went out to eat together. There are no photos of that, though, we only have the words of an employee from the restaurant they ate at. On 191116, gg attended Bazaar’s charity night. He received this bouquet from them. He also had to film a short video about love, this one. Assuming his answers are genuine and he was not just trying to be poetic, here is bxg’s theory on that: when? - when I woke up, where? - in my dream ~ gg wrote in a weibo post and also said in an interview that the summer of 2018, of filming CQL felt like a dream to him and when they finished filming, it was like he woke up from that dream. So if the “dream” he’s referring to here is the same, he’s basically saying that he met his love during the filming of CQL and he fell in love after the dream, ie the filming, ended. What? - I love your eyes the most ~ this isn’t smth that gg ever said about Yibo but there is this one time when they got asked what’s most handsome about e/o and he replied that Yibo is handsome everywhere. Who? - you’re the one I love most, You? - loving you allowed me to be my most extraordinary self ~ gg said that filming CQL changed him, that he is actually an introvert but he’s gotten out of his shell thanks to that role. He attributed that change to the character he played but I suppose, it’s not a far fetch to think the people he worked with helped change him, too. And as far as we know, the one he spent the most time with was dd. On 191228, both gg and dd attended the Tencent Awards. Afterwards, they were seen leaving together, that is their cars left tgt. The next day, dd had to catch a flight at midday. Plus, gg waited until 3pm to make this oasis post of his breakfast with the caption “simple happiness”. The kadian of that time - 15:18 - has “Wang YiBo” in it. (If you don’t know what kadian is, I made a very lame attempt at explaining it here.) On an episode of Our Song, Zhan-ge sang part of a love song in which he changed the lyrics again. From “the moment the wind blew was full of loneliness” to “the moment the wind blew past your face full of loneliness”. In a later, special episode of Our Song, Zhan-ge sang a bittersweet love song and changed the lyrics so that instead of singing it for s/o older - as in the original - he was singing it for s/o younger. On 200111, gg and dd attended Weibo Night, an award show that is watched by a lot of higher-ups, ie potential future employers lol. Gg was, compared to all other occasions, pretty distant with dd while dd behaved normally - which convinced a lot more people (me, included tbh) that they have to be more than friends. The way gg behaved just made it seem like he was hiding/protecting what they really have - which he obv won’t need to do if they are just friends. There’s always a lot of talk about their clothes which usually doesn’t seem significant to me - except for this shirt and this jacket. Dd wore those years ago but gg was seen with that shirt only in Oct 2019 and with the jacket only in January 2020. They’re not being produced anymore and gg was never seen in those before. There are also speculations about dd, having gifted gg limited edition Nike shoes and a biker jacket (that is only available for motorcyclists such as dd himself) or about gg, having given dd his pink hoodie (he used to not like pink). There are also a lot more examples, regarding the kadian - but it’s too much, uff. All I can give you is this shallow summary. I tried to be objective (lol) but… I’ve been following bxg’s theories for months now. There aren’t even that many theories that leave me shooketh but whenever one did, I would just try to dismiss it which usually meant believing it’s a coincidence. However, there is apparently a limit to the amount of things I can dismiss as coincidences before I stop believing they’re coincidences. All this being said, I am obv not certain. It’s just a belief. What I do know is that gg and dd are genuine friends and by God, that is already beautiful enough~

Thank you and I hope you’re having a good day, too ^-^

#yasminedragon #ask #我们

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horrorhot-line · 3 years

Note

Do you have any writing tips Coz i rlly like your writing ❤😭

This one took a while to answer because of how much I had to say. (Please keep in mind that I am in no way telling you to follow these tips, take whatever you think will work for you and discard what doesn't, okay?)

Alright, first things first, I've been writing on and off for the past seven years, and I can say for a fact that I've definitely improved since my first fic (which was on paper, we don't talk about it). The following tips are what works for me, and what I believe has helped me become better at writing.

Remember, fanfiction is supposed to be self-indulgent, and therefore you are entitled to write whatever you like because it's your work, so you don’t have to follow any of these tips if you don’t feel like it.

Proofreading, making sense & grammar

Grammar and punctuation make a huge difference. You could have an amazing story, but bad grammar can make that piece of work flop. Stories are supposed to be immersive, but if there are too many mistakes or the words don't make sense, it can ruin it for a reader. (I don't mean your garden variety missing letters, I mean something like 'an he and her goes and u were like oh no'.) I can't name the amount of time I've started to read something online and ditched it because the grammar irks me (your instead of you're, their instead of they're and so on). I've seen a lot of fanfiction writers also switch between past tense, present tense and future tense in the same paragraph, which makes it hard to understand what's happening.

If you're trying to post and have it get attention, please do check your work to make sure it makes sense. Write down everything first, don't correct anything, and once you're done writing the scene, go back to proofread the whole thing. Get someone to read it for you and point out mistakes or things that don't make sense, if you can.

If you can't, then there are alternatives. There's 'text to speech', where you can copy and paste what you've written down onto a website, and it will read the text out loud to you. It works the best (for me anyway). There's also grammarly, which is kind of similar to google docs except it points out all the mistakes you may have in your work. (Bear in mind a few mistakes don't matter, but if there's too many then it's likely that your post or blog won't get much attention.) This tip helps you to get a lot of likes on your writing.

Research

If you're writing fanfiction, please study the character(s). My biggest pet peeve when I read fanfiction, is that the love interest is out of character. Whether it be the way they talk or the way they act, if it isn't close to canon, I cannot read it.

So, if you're trying to gain traction and have your work get a lot of positive feedback or likes, then it's best to do research. Most fictional characters have wiki pages where their personalities, relationships and life stories are listed, so why not make the most of it? It's all there for the taking. When writing for a character, rewatch the show/movie to get a good grasp of their personality and then begin to write. The more canon your writing is, the more people will enjoy it.

Reader Inserts

Ever come across an x reader where there's way too much description about their appearance? (Specified hair colour, hair length, named family members etc.) I once read a reader insert where the author described the reader as someone who had pale skin, blue eyes and blonde hair... I was like, huh? That's not what I look like :')

When you specify or go into details about 'reader's' appearance, it will most likely ruin the mental image your readers have in their heads already. I feel like when one tries to write a story or oneshot with a reader, they should be as vague as possible. There's no need to specify the height, or the reader's dream job or names of family members, or outfit choice- that's up to the people that are reading your stuff to work out. Leave it to their imagination. (This doesn't apply to requests made by others for specific character traits or appearances.)

Write believable characters

If your work has a reader insert or original characters, please make them believable. You don't want to write characters that are 2D and have little to no depth. Please don't make them perfect, that takes the fun out of things and makes your character somewhat boring. You don’t want to write a character that your readers find it hard to care about, so even if you were to kill them, the readers wouldn’t care.

Make them real, with real problems and a factor of relatability. Heck, give them toxic/bad personality traits while you're at it. Easily irritable, overly sensitive, cynical, selfish, manipulative, people pleaser- the list is endless (we all have our flaws, no?). Contrary to what others may believe, this will make your character easy to relate to or understand, and more people will like your work that way. (this links to my next tip btw)

Mary Sues

I've seen this a lot in the fanfiction community, and oh god, does it make me cringe (this is because of personal preference, though). Mary sues, if you aren't aware, are perfect characters that have no faults. They don't make mistakes, and everyone loves them even if they do nothing. They are basically the perfect hero/heroine, and that makes them boring. My biggest pet peeves are mary sues in fanfiction author's works, (but, this is because I can't stand perfect and over-powered characters that everyone seems to fall for at first sight).

Fair enough if the entire story is self-indulgent, I'm not here to bash others over personal preferences (this is just how I feel on the matter), but that also means that you take the risk of your work flopping for that sole reason. Your work might not get any traction or positive feedback because it is overly indulgent.

Don't make your original character or reader insert a mary sue. Throw hurdles and hardships at them, let them make huge mistakes and learn from them, let them mature. Let them have flaws, let them win over the love interest slowly, instead of having the two fall in love instantly.

Use the right inspiration for romantic relationships

Please for the love of god do not use toxic relationships as your inspiration for the romance you write into your story. 'After' by Anna Todd comes to mind first, as it is a good example of a romance written horribly. If you don't know already, then it's a Harry Styles wattpad fanfiction that got popular and was published, with two movie adaptations out already, (with more on the way)- the classic good girl falls for bad boy cliche.

So, what's so wrong with 'After'? For one, the male interest is toxic as hell. Anger management issues, substance abuse, trash personality, the list goes on. What does the female interest to about it? Absolutely nothing. She lets him walk all over her and forgives him for it every time.

Please don't use stories like this as a basis for what the romance in your work is like. Relationships where one abuses the other, whether it be mentally, physically or verbally are wrong and shouldn't be glorified nor romanticised. Relationships are supposed to be healthy, and shouldn't tear the people in it, apart. Use the right inspiration, there's plenty out there.

Writing chemistry between characters

For me, I use inspiration where ever I can find it. Movies, animes, books, real life, you name it. Observe the different types of media around you. How do friends interact with each other? How is it different from childhood friends and family friends? How is it different to lovers? I watch Netflix shows/movies in my free time, mostly romance- and yes, it is for research purposes. From there, I take a particular interaction or scene and get to thinking. If the characters from my works were in that situation, how would they react?

Ever watched a movie or a show and thought to yourself, 'Wow, the interactions are so awkward'? That's mostly because the script is forced, and that's the last thing you want to write like. Chemistry, whether it be platonic or romantic, should be natural. The best way for you to do this is by thinking about how characters would interact and letting it come naturally to you.

Don't rush it

You have all the time in the world to write chemistry between characters. Why rush it? Slow burns hit the hardest and a lot of people like them. What I mean to say is, please for the love of god, don't let the characters in your work meet and then immediately fall in love.

The countless amount of times I've sighed in frustration because I've decided to read a story and the first chapter they meet, the second they're already a thing and the third they get married? (This is an exaggeration, but you know what I mean.) What? Why? The time between realising feelings and officially dating should at least take a month, so write with that in mind. (This tip doesn't apply to one-shots.)

Narration

I’ve seen authors skip out on explaining where the story takes place and give the bare minimum when it comes to details, and have realised that it makes it very hard for the reader to understand what’s happening. When there’s barely any context, the story is no longer immersive and is less enjoyable.

Focus on describing the settings. There should be more description than dialogue. The weather, the surrounding, if there are people near or not, smells, sounds, etc. This will help the reader visualise what's happening, and will make it more enjoyable all around. The surroundings should be included in your story to make it more interesting and to keep the reader hooked. I've seen authors do this in their fanfiction and my god, when it's done right, it is so beautiful.

The first paragraph

This is a tip I've only recently started to use. You should always start the first paragraph off with something interesting. It's gotta be eye-catching. This makes sure that the reader doesn't click off of your work before you get to the good bits. There are a lot of writers who start their stories off with the classic 'I woke up in the morning to the alarm clock sounding,' and it is the absolute worst because it's the most overused cliche I've ever seen.

Reading about someone waking up isn't interesting unless it's important to the story. For example, you can start off with a character waking up, if they're sick, 'I jolted awake only to immediately groan at the headache I was hit with. I moved to massage the bridge of my nose, to ease my pain, somewhat. It was then that I realised I was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Breathing in through my nose, I kicked the covers off of myself in an attempt to try and cool down. Turning my head and coughing into my pillow, I wondered if it was even worth it to get up.'

Internal monologues

Internal monologues give character to the person you're writing about and also gives the reader a good idea of what they're like. They also make your story better as a whole and can prove to lengthen it a bit more. Sprinkle them in where you see fit.

For example, 'The school day dragged on. You gazed at the clock yet again- why did it feel as if the hand on it hadn't moved? You should have stayed home. What was the point of this again? You could be spending your time doing something better. You suppressed the urge to yawn as the teacher droned on about how to calculate frequencies and wavelengths.'

Read

I mean this. When you're not writing, read, and do it like it's a job. Find a good book or a fanfiction that's well written, and take note of things the author has done that you think, 'Oh! That's worded beautifully.' This will help you expand your vocabulary, provide you with inspiration and overall will improve your writing.

hope this helps 💞💞💞💞

#anon ask #ask response #writing tips

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mediaeval-muse · 3 years

Text

Book Review

Confessions of the Fox. By Jordy Rosenberg. New York: One World, 2018.

Rating: 4.5/5 stars

Genre: historical fiction, queer fiction

Part of a Series? No

Summary: Set in the eighteenth century London underworld, this bawdy, genre-bending novel reimagines the life of thief and jailbreaker Jack Sheppard to tell a profound story about gender, love, and liberation.

Jack Sheppard and Edgeworth Bess were the most notorious thieves, jailbreakers, and lovers of eighteenth-century London. Yet no one knows the true story; their confessions have never been found. Until now. Reeling from heartbreak, a scholar named Dr. Voth discovers a long-lost manuscript—a gender-defying exposé of Jack and Bess’s adventures. Is Confessions of the Fox an authentic autobiography or a hoax? As Dr. Voth is drawn deeper into Jack and Bess’s tale of underworld resistance and gender transformation, it becomes clear that their fates are intertwined—and only a miracle will save them all.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: sexual content (as in sex acts, not the mere presence of lgbt+ people), blood, graphic depiction of top surgery, violence, racism, gender dysphoria

Overview: I didn’t know what I was expecting when I picked up this book, but something about it just hit all the right angles for me. I adore historical fiction that not only aims to imitate the aesthetics of the period, but also focuses on underrepresented identities, such as queer, non-white, and working or poverty class people; thus, it was inevitable that I would find Confessions of the Fox would be so engrossing. I do understand that this book might not be for everyone, as Rosenberg plays with a lot of academic ideas that usually fall in the realm of theory, but personally, I loved that this book wasn’t just about trans identity. While gender and identity and queerness were at the heart of this book, Confessions was also about archives and policing and commodities and so much more - things that were related and engaged the more academic part of my brain, but somewhat complicated for casual reading. Nevertheless, it was ambitious and smartly-constructed, so I’m giving it a high rating, even if I have quibbles here and there.

Writing: As a former academic and lover of history, I very much enjoyed Rosenberg’s approach to genre, form, and writing. It would have been easy to simply write a story using modern aesthetic tastes, but Rosenberg goes out of his way to imitate the prose style of the 18th century. I loved the richness of the vocabulary and the complexity of the sentences, as well as the juxtaposition of the sacred and profane. It was refreshing to read such beautiful prose that the author clearly put a lot of love into, and if you want to be so immersed in a story that you feel like you’re reading a historical document, I think Rosenberg does a wonderful job.

I also really loved the way Rosenberg wrote about trans identity in the 18th century. There are passages, for example, where Jack’s attention wanders while being dead-named, where Jack expresses feelings of confusion or freedom when talking about his physical body, where he talks about the process of coming into being when he heard Bess use his name, etc. I thought these passages were the most beautifully written and impactful, and they stayed with me the most after I finished the book.

These 18th century “confessions” are accompanied by a number of footnotes, written by a character named Dr. Voth in the present day. In these passages, Rosenberg shifts his tone and style, thereby differentiating between past and present without having to constantly remind the reader that Jack and Bess’s story is told through something of a frame. I think the choice to have footnotes instead of chapters where Voth’s POV takes center stage was a good one - it more effectively created parallels between the 18th century story and Voth’s personal story, and reminded the reader that history (especially trans history) evolves as a result of a kind of archival work, collected in pieces by many different people. In that sense, form matched function, which I am always delighted to see in my novels.

That being said, I can’t say I enjoyed Voth’s voice all that much. This criticism is probably a personal preference rather than anything Rosenberg did wrong - I just think Voth’s voice felt a little too conversational, like he was talking to someone instead of writing.

Plot: Most of Rosenberg’s novel follows Jack Sheppard and Bess Khan as they discover Jack’s identity, evade arrest, and disrupt a horrifying commodity trade (so to speak). In my opinion, the plot points surrounding Jack’s personal journey were incredibly well-constructed; I felt that the evolution of Jack’s gender identity, the romance between Jack and Bess, and their evolution as criminals were all very compelling and touched on a number of engrossing themes, from gender to poverty to anti-capitalism. Granted, there were some areas where I think the pacing dragged, but part of me thinks this was due to the 18th century style and genre conventions, more than anything Rosenberg was doing wrong.

In Voth’s footnotes, we also get something of a personal story which includes Voth being coerced into working for an exploitative publishing company at the direction of his university administrator. As we go through the footnotes, Voth recounts conversations he had with these figures while also disclosing details about his failed relationships - with one ex in particular. While I did like the parallels that exist between the manuscript and Voth’s own life, there were some things that challenged my suspension of disbelief. For example, I would never expect an academic to record personal anecdotes and intimate confessions in footnotes for an academic project. Maybe that happens in academic circles outside mine, and I understand it needs to happen for plot reasons (just reading references to critical theory or secondary sources would be boring for most people), so this criticism is coming from a place of being too close to the setting surrounding the text, in a way.

I also think that there were some passages where sexual activity would be mentioned where it was not needed. I do understand, on some level, that sex and sexuality is an important topic in trans studies (and queer studies as a whole), and I don’t want to appear too prudish. However, I think random references to a character masturbating, even if they were making a point, were a bit egregious. I was especially put off by the story of a 15 year old masturbating (in the present-day footnotes), and though I understand the story was illustrating an academic concept and books should acknowledge that (many) teens do have sex drives, it was also a bit much for me, personally.

Characters: Jack, our primary protagonist, is interesting and complex not just because he struggles with his identity as a trans man, but also because he struggles with acting in ways that are not out of self-interest. Though he is a thief and thus acts in self-interest in understandable ways, he eventually uncovers an operation which involves the production of a drug-like substance (or something - that’s the best I can describe it). Bess demands that he destroy all samples so that the substance can’t be reproduced by others, but Jack wants to confiscate the samples for himself to make a huge profit. I liked that this conflict existed, not only because it showed Jack as having other challenges in his life other than his gender identity, but it also spurred character growth and emotional turmoil.

Bess Khan, a prostitute and Jack’s lover, was written in a way that respected sex work and provided commentary on race and policing. I really liked that she had a strong set of principles and desires that were larger than herself, and I liked that she was confident and forceful where Jack could be meek and unsure.

Other rogues were equally loveable and admirable. Jenny, another prostitute, was a nice example of women forming networks of support within the criminal underworld while also showing how white women (even prostitutes) are treated differently than non-white women. Aurie, a black queer man, was also a supportive friend to Jack who is frequently instrumental in his survival. There is also a wide variety of named and unnamed rogues who were non-white and/or queer in some way, providing a rich array of characters that dispels the assumption that 18th century England was homogenously white and straight.

Our main antagonist, Jonathan Wild, is a bit less interesting in that he’s mainly just corrupt. I personally didn’t care for the chapters from his perspective, though I do understand that he functions as an important, symbolic figure that embodies all the things Jack and Bess work against (capitalism, police corruption, etc.).

Voth, our modern day commentator, has his moments, but sometimes, I would waffle back and forth between finding him engaging and finding him pretentious. I understand that he is supposed to be flawed, and I sympathize with a lot of his plights - mainly the pressure from his university and the anxiety he suffers from. But also, I found his voice to be somewhat combative, and if the point was to make a complicated, likeable-sometimes-unlikeable-other-times character, then I think Rosenberg succeeded.

TL;DR: Confessions of the Fox is a beautiful debut novel that engages with trans identity and history, though it does so in a way that may be a bit too academic for some readers. But while it definitely demands much of your attention, Rosenberg ultimately delivers a rich, engrossing story that reaches beyond the historical and textual boundaries of the page and invites the reader to see themselves as part of a vast network that is constantly “making” and “becoming” itself.

#book reviews

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intruality-overlord · 4 years

Text

Why Are We (Best) Friends?

Warnings: Excessive swearing, alcoholism, mentions of drugs, drug use, suggestive humor, implied sexual content (no smut), some gore descriptions. Generally, Remus stuff.

Taglist: @blogging-time @veraisnotfine @littlestr @jessibbb @ibroken-butterflyi @hi-its-tutty @idkanameatall

(For these first couple chapters I have tagged people I thought might be interested in reading this. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)

The next chapters I will be posting every week on Thursday/Wednesday because this is a prewritten fic (look at me being responsible—)

Chapter Two: Fuck This

The Present.

“That fucker drives me fucking insane!” Patton’s shouting bounced off the walls. “Virgil keeps getting fucking mad at me and I don’t even know what I’m doing fucking wrong at this point, but he won’t fucking tell me what the fuck it is either!” He ranted. Remus nodded along, sat across from him. His legs were crossed with his pointy elbows resting on top, and his spine bent awkwardly so he could settle his head in his palm. Thoroughly entertained, Remus hummed every now and then in agreement like a sham therapist.

“And Roman! He... he... You know why he’s a bitch,” Patton lamented. A cackle shattered Remus’s short-lived, feigned seriousness.

“The last time we saw you was fucking Christmas,” Patton mocked. “Maybe because you didn’t fucking invite me, idiot. Of course Logan wouldn’t, though, all high and mighty smartass. And my puppet idea was a fucking good idea goddamnit. Bullshit. Bullshit!— ugh,” Patton sighed out his remaining traces of frustration. He crossed his arms over his chest and sunk into the green bean bag. Some of the styrofoam beads spilled out a small tear on the poor, battered, ever shrinking bean bag.

Grinning wildly, Remus said, “While that was a marvellous performance, I must say it could do with a little more variety in your profanity.” Patton gave an amused, breathy snort.

“Why are we friends, Remus? You’re such a bad influence on me,” Patton said teasingly. Remus rolled his eyes as Patton plucked another Pepsi can (which contents had most definitely not been poured down the drain and refilled with a concoction of cocktails) from his mini fridge. Remus let Patton hide his alcohol stockpile in his room since his dear friend was so paranoid of the other sides discovering it. “Encouraging me to curse, letting me have access to vodka…”

“Oh, shut up. You’ve become an alcoholic all on your own,” Remus said dismissively.

“...True,” Patton conceded. “You were always more the type for cookie mix,” Patton added as an afterthought. Remus doubled over into a laughing fit. Cookie mix most certainly had nothing to do with cocaine. He couldn’t help but laugh at the smug knowing look Patton sent him as him floundered.

“You— you can’t— I’ve been clean for a few months now!” Remus said defiantly, sinking further into his beanbag with his arms crossed. (Quickly, Remus double checked, pulling his hair over his eyes only to find clear brown, no white in sight. Phew.) Patton hummed sceptically. “But you did have shrooms recently,” he teased.

Remus huffed. “No I haven’t— …Wait—” Remus paused, “Have I?”

“I don’t know,” Patton smiled, “Have you?” Remus let his eyes wander the room. “I can’t remember…”

Patton rolled his eyes fondly.

“You know as long as you’re not over doing it, and you’re being as safe as possible, it’s fine with me. I don’t have any right to judge,” Patton said reassuringly. Yes, Patton knew it was inherently wrong to not at least try and steer his friend onto a less self-destructive path. Remus, to him, was like a hairless Chinese Crested puppy. Very weirdly adorable in the nasty kind of way. (That sounds bad, but he truly means it in the best way possible. What he lacked in hair as a metaphorical dog, he made up for in personality and a good heart muddle somewhere in there). Which meant he struggled to ever say no to him.

Patton also knew that the last thing he wanted to be was a hypocrite. Maybe once he got himself on the right track, then he’d intervene more.

“Seriously, how did we ever become friends?” Patton said genuinely. “I still thought babies were delivered by stalks when we first became friends.”

“I dunno… we just did,” was all Remus could come up with. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. When he couldn’t quite get comfy, he resorted to sitting upside down on the couch instead. Much better.

Silence settled over the two for a minute. Patton stared into space, deep in thought. Taking sips of his drink, he felt the alcohol lethargically burning down his throat. Remus resorted to picking at his nails again in the stillness, wondering if it’s possible to have a tattoo underneath your nails.

“I don’t regret it,” Patton said thoughtfully. Remus cocked his head to the side, neck cracking when his body slipped down the sofa a bit. “Becoming friends with you,” Patton clarified. “You’re the best friend I could ask for, really. You don’t baby and shelter me like the others. You let me just… be,” Patton said sincerely. “Which always seems too much to ask of the others,” Patton tacted on bitterly. He took a generous swig as if to emphasize his point. Remus scoffed, the tiny movement making him slide the rest of the way down onto the carpet. “Aww I’m flattered, honey.” His tone was excessively teasing, yet his expression was anything but.

Midst lazily reaching for another can, Remus swatted Patton’s hands away. “I think that’s enough. You’re already starting to monologue. If you keep going you’ll have a hangover so bad, it’ll feel like you actually hanged yourself,” Remus tutted. While Patton was no light weight (his words hadn’t even begun to slur yet), from the way Patton was chugging it down, Remus knew his body just hadn’t caught up yet.

Meekly lolling his head back to face skywards, Patton whined but didn’t protest. Sinking lower into the cushy bean bag, his eyes traced imagery patterns on the ceiling.

God, Remus knew that look.

“I just don’t know anymore, ReRe,” Patton said defeatedly, “Every time I think I’m over it, they keep giving me false hope. Everything I say and feel is ignored, and whenever I’m right, they always think it’s a stupid flook. They never listen. I don’t think they ever will at this rate. I don’t even know if I want to be friends with them anymore or I’m just really fucking lonely and my brain’s just hard wired to associate, I don’t know, being happy? With them?” His eyes were vacant, dull. “Why can’t it be like when we were little?”

While the whole point of their little get together was for Patton to vent with free will to cuss as needed, this more sappy, philosophical stuff… Remus didn’t like. You can’t blame him for not liking to see his best friend this miserable. Still, he knew it was best to let Patton keep going.

“Even if they did actually care about me, I’m sure they’d stop the moment they knew we’re like… a thing. Logan would think I’m crazy— Virgil and Roman too… I know what they’d think of us and it’s so— so—” Patton made a nondescript noise of frustration. “They’d say you corrupted me or some shit. I… I’m not embarrassed of you. I should stop acting like I am. I hate this stupid dumb angel reputation I have anyway. I’m just… I have to admit the only real reason I haven’t really said anything at this point is it’s kinda funny seeing their reactions whenever I accidentally say something that sounds wrong.”

Remus chuckled. “I don’t know how they haven’t caught on yet, honestly. Your half of our brain cell is just as sick as mine. They must be in denial.”

“Yeah…”

…

“I should be going to bed,” Patton tried to stand up. As soon as he stood however, his knees buckled. Remus dashed to his side and caught him. “You goof…” Remus positioned him upright. Steadying hands on his hips, Patton tried to stand up straight. A task easier said that done when you’re a gay panic. Inevitably, Patton limply collapsed on top of Remus.

“I don’t think I can make it to my room…” Patton’s cheeks flushed and the red ran down his neck.

“You wet noodle.”

“You… blue cheese lover.”

(“Is that supposed to be an insult?”)

(“Who the fuck likes blue cheese?”)

Arm slung over his shoulder, Remus hauled Patton into the hallway and onwards. He would have carried Patton if he hadn’t been so surprisingly stubborn. All well, anything to make him happy. They returned to their earlier, lighter bantering. The alcohol started to really catch up with Patton, his quips came slower. No less witty, though (by their standards).

Everything would’ve gone like normal if it wasn’t for a certain nerd who had decided on a coffee before bed. Most counterproductive. As soon as Logan had started out his room, he spotted them. His eyes settled into a potent, yet subtle glare. Like a droplet of poison spilt on an unassuming biscuit.

“What the…”

“Logyyy!” Patton perked up at the sound of his voice, lifting himself from Remus’s side that he’d been slumped on. The sudden movement made him lose balance. Scrambling to catch himself, Remus found himself with two arms wrapped around his shoulders now.

“Is… is he— are you drunk?” Logan sputtered. Disbelief shaped his words like they felt alien on his tongue. “I’m not thaaaat drunk!” Patton retaliated. Logan ignored him, cold, tired eyes set on Remus. “What did you do to him?” Logan said as aggressively as a guinea pig could manage. Confusion still mostly coloured his stare. “Me an’ Re er havin’ bestie time, duh!” Patton answered. He sounded giddy, but his voice had a touch of satire only drunken Patton could manage. Even in his drunken state, Patton subconsciously was trying to maintain his image.

Remus frowned. This learnt behaviour was ingrained into Patton.

“He shouldn’t be around someone like you in such a vulnerable state,” Logan said, already trying to pry Patton from his arms. “No—” Remus began, looping his arms securely on Patton's waist, “I’ll take care of him.”

“Noooo,” Patton recoiled, trying to melt into Remus’s side. “It's bestiee tiiiimme wi’ Emu.” Patton's arms slid up Remus’s shoulders around his neck as he squirmed. “You’re drunk, Patton,” Logan dismissed.

Seething, Remus shoved Logan off. “You heard him,” he said, sternly. “Back off before I carve out your tongue, blend it, and force feed it to you,” he threatened. Arms crossed, Logan huffed like an exhausted parent. “You’re all bark, no bite,” he dismissed.

“Oh honey, you ha’ no idea how mu’ he bi’es.”

Schooling his face into glares and scrunched eyebrows, Remus sighed out the giggles brewing in his lungs. Nonetheless, Patton was proud of the brief smug smile he provoked. Pretending he didn’t hear that, Logan insisted, “You’re a bad influence on someone like Patton. People like you shouldn’t be around him, especially when he’s inebriated.”

“Better under the supervision of a friend. He’d drink himself to death otherwise.”

“Yes, but preferably, that should be Virgil or Roman or I, most certainly not you.”

“It’s not my fault he doesn’t feel comfortable enough around anyone else, tin can.”

“Re,” Patton interrupted, whining, “I’m bored le’s gooo.” He tugged on him.

“—He’s drunk he doesn’t know what he’s saying— you know what— Okay, Patton, you choose. Me,” Logan pointed to himself, “or him?” He said overly pronouncing his words.

…

“…‘M drunk not a fuckin’ kid,” was Patton’s response. “We go now,” and he was stumbling down the hallway dragging Remus with him.

Both missed the shell shocked expression on Logan, not daring to believe his ears. Patton cursing? An intoxicated Patton, no less? No. Nope. Absolutely not. He needed coffee desperately.

When they finally got to Patton’s room, Remus carefully directed him, even lowering him onto his bed. Patton had the tendency to unceremoniously flop face first onto his bed like a starfish.

“I swear I’m gonna strangle Logan,” Remus muttered as he made sure Patton was comfortable, tucking in his blankets.

“I don’ think he into bdsm,” Patton said as an offhanded thought.

“You never know. He could be partial to a spider gag…”

“You really just want to try that thing out don’t you? I swear to god— oof.” Remus snatched his pillow from beneath his head to fluff it. Pretending to not pretend he was punching a sheep’s limp corpse, he fluffed it extremely thoroughly.

“You gotsa stop relying on me to keep you in check, ya know,” Patton pouted, arms crossed. “Your— you’re fuckin’ innsaaane!”

“I only ask you sometimes…” Remus said (the worst part about that sentence was that it was utterly true).

Blank stare piercing Remus, Patton paused a moment for his brain to function before deadpanning, “I’d like to talk to you about Jesus Christ—”

Remus shoved Patton’s pillow back, and he promptly forgot everything in favour of burrowing down into his bed. Touch light as moonlight, Remus herded Patton’s wild locks from his forehead. “What am I gonna do with you…”

“You’re na’ gon change my mind… kinky b-hole,” Patton mumbled, caught between the conscious world and sleep. Remus’s eyes smiled. Crouching down, he hovered over Patton. Hovered over his forehead, wondering. Pondering, debating, convincing himself. His breath stirred Patton’s brown locks. They scattered like a spooked flock. Running. Patton shivered.

He shouldn’t. Backing away, Remus was ready to switch the lights off and evacuate, yet was stopped.

“Reeemuuuuuss,” Patton called. Suddenly, he was wide awake again.

Huh?— his breath hitched. His hand caught on the doorway.

“Staaaaayyy! Preddy please?” He made grabby hands.

But— they don’t—

Did he deserve…? Right now? His nails dug into the doorframe.

…

“Okay! I’m coming, I’m coming,” Remus assured, relenting. Lazy giggles from Patton rewarded him. Flicking off the light, Remus strode back over. Laying together in silence, Remus picked the paint and splinters out from underneath his nails and waited. When Patton didn’t budge, Remus took his arms and used them like a seat belt. Simultaneously, Patton glued himself to his back like a limpet. A warm wall of heat.

“Remouse?” He mumbled into his shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“You’re really sweet. like… like tomato sauce.”

…

Welp okay then.

Next Chapter:

#WAW(B)F?#sander sides #thomas sanders #ts sander sides #patton sanders #ts patton #remus sanders #ts remus #intruality #moduke #logan sanders #ts logan #remus x patton #patton x remus

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

TO THE MOON AND BACK - ft. ???

You feel winded and you're not sure why. Like you'd been walking on cloud nine and were now falling through the atmosphere, plummeting toward the ground at incredible speeds. When you speak, it doesn't really sound like you. "Yes." Because he was exactly right - you were a hopeless romantic. Always had been. It was hard not to be when your parents were childhood sweethearts and love was the thing you'd been chasing your whole life.

alt summary. You use your one brain cell for love. It doesn’t always end well.

pairing. who knows, honestly. the obvious ones are kim taehyung and jeon jungkook, though.

tags. blind date, strangers, strangers to friends, strangers to lovers, getting to know each other, alternate universe, alternate universe - modern setting, romantic comedy, fluff, slow burn, smut, pining, unrequited love.

rating. ... 18+?

word count. ~5200

note. THIS GETS REAL NON-PG-13 REAL QUICK. I'M SORRY.

chapter 6.

You don't think you'll ever get used to it. The kisses pressed to your crown, over your eyelids, coaxing sandman's dust from your lashes. The saccharine laughter muddled by sleep and swept into messy sheets, threaded into stitches and saved for another day. His hands and his warmth, all over and everywhere and yet never enough. He was like a straight shot of adrenaline and you were a junkie, desperate for the thrill.

Every day was like some wonderful dream - some quietly whispered wish come to life.

And it was all thanks to Taehyung.

Since that first night, you'd fallen into an easy routine. Good morning texts and on occasion, more, his deep drawl acting as a lullaby rather than a wake-up call. Flowers at your doorstep when he knew you didn't have class; a coffee and boxy smile ready when he'd meet you after your last. Date nights every Tuesday, because your lectures ran late and you didn't have time to cook on those days. Your favourite meal from the nearby mom-and-pop shop memorized as easily as his own name.

He was so good to you. Too good to you, you insisted, only for him to brush you off.

Because he'd swept into your life like spring rain and where there'd once been monotony - pretty but boring shades of grey - there was now colour that blinded you. Swaths of red and blue and yellow you'd never seen. Some kind of King Midas, you thought.

"Are you hungry yet?" You're partially inclined to believe he's speaking to someone else - whoever's on the other side of his voice chat - but fail to realize he's behind you, broad frame curled around you as he traps you beneath him. His arms span either side of you, palms planted firmly on the tabletop where you've made a bit of a mess. There are notebooks and loose papers, a textbook with dogeared pages that looks like it's on its last legs. There's even a half-eaten stick of Pocky sticking out from its container, lonely and forgotten.

You turn and peer up at him, trying to focus despite your swimming vision. You've been working on the same composition for the better part of three days and it's been hell. No matter what you do, it doesn't come out right.

When you almost go cross-eyed in your vain attempt to reconcile the two figures in your line of sight, he's slipping your thin gold-rimmed glasses over your ears and off your face, setting them down gently beside your pencil case. You think he's frustrated - you would be, too, if you'd been invited over only to be ignored all night - when his hands find your jaw. You know he isn't by how gentle he is, pad of his thumb pressing soothingly over your bottom lip.

"Take a break, okay?" It's a demand dressed as a request, seducing in its tenderness. You know he's not going to take no for an answer.

You hesitate nonetheless, ready to present your first, second, and third excuses. He silences them before they can see the light of day, coaxing them back into their hiding spots with the sweetest graze of his mouth. Cheater.

Before you know it, you've forgotten yourself and all the reasons why you'd been so ready to return to work, fingers curling over the backs of his hands. It's a makeshift handhold, your way of finding balance after being swept up in the storm that is Taehyung. "Not fair," you chide, not unhappily. You draw his hands to your lap, ignoring the awkward way his body shifts to accommodate the movement.

"I'm just looking out for you," he responds, like that's a good enough reason. You huff. He rolls his eyes but there's no venom behind it.

"What do you want to eat then? I think we have some kimbap leftover from yesterday."

"I ate that earlier when you were having a mini breakdown." You ignore the teasing in his tone because there's adoring understanding too, and a hint of concern. He's not part of your world but he's trying to be. You appreciate that.

Unfortunately, your gratitude doesn't fill hungry stomachs. "How about jjapaguri?"

Taehyung's brow quirks and you know he's going to make some bad joke before it leaves his lips. You recognize the tell-tale signs in the little twitch of his mouth, the way his cheeks tighten and release as if he can't hold back the absolute genius that is he. It's only been a few weeks but you can already read him like a book. (Also, he's a really easy book, like Goodnight Moon.) "Are you trying to tell me you're hiding your husband in the basement?"

"Damn, you got me." You're as deadpan as possible. There's more tonal variety in dry toast.

You stare at each other for half an eternity and then you're both giggling. The sound curls out of your mouth and flits into the air, dragging weight from your shoulders as it ascends.

"You're the silliest." It's meant to be a compliment as much as a rebuff. Darling Taehyung takes it as only the former, beaming proudly. He pulls gently at your hands, coaxing you to straighten with him. He's got you where he wants you now, cradled to his chest like porcelain, and you can't help but relax into the welcoming embrace, cheek pressed to the velveteen cotton of his Celine shirt. When you speak again, it's muffled. "Thank you."

You feel more than hear his laughter, his shoulders reverberating with the motion. "Nothing to thank me for, jagi."

When he uses the term of endearment, poppy red sprouts across your skin, blooms prettily from the tip of your nose to your temples. You still weren't used to it and you're grateful for the cover of your hair, the expanse of his chest that you're burrowed against. "I'll go make food. You stay here."

Then you're gone, scurrying from your bedroom before he can say another word.

Your setup is perfect. From your chair - functional yet pretty, you'd boasted the moment he stepped foot into your bedroom - to the custom-built aluminum keyboard with cat paw esc key, it's a gamer's paradise. Your mouse has all the sensitivity he's used to and it shifts dreamily through the colours of the rainbow, moulded grip lightweight in his palm. (He wishes it were a little bigger, but that's a him problem.) Even the tri-monitor display soothes his secret nerdy itch, filling the void of being away from home with it's insane resolution. The fact that there's thousands of dollars worth of studio equipment in and around it doesn't even deter him. He appreciates that you trust him enough to be seated here.

Pulling your headphones over his ears, he aimlessly reaches for the attached microphone before remembering it doesn't exist. That was something he was still getting used to. He's not really sure where or how the sound is being picked up - maybe by one of the two microphones positioned strategically on either side of your desk, though he can't bother to figure out which - only that it is, and it's good enough for him.

"Ready?" He prompts, watching as his user tag lights up to indicate his question.

JKMKNAE lights up below him. "To kick some ass? Yeah."

Overwatch loads, the FINDING GAME screen sliding into view. The timer rolls on, seconds dragging, and he makes small talk over voice chat while he waits. No one else is on yet - their usual group of near and far online friends still showing offline on Discord - so it's just the two of them.

"Are you going to that party?" He's referring to the little get-together being thrown by Hoseok's new girlfriend. Honestly, he can't remember her name - Gahyeon? Dohyeon? She was nice enough and his friend was clearly smitten, but given that he'd met her in passing only once, he hadn't committed it to memory. He'd learn it before Friday, though. Maybe. H'd have to, if he planned on introducing you.

Couldn't really say 'Jiyeon, meet Hoseok's unnamed girlfriend.'

"Don't know." The response comes indistinct and he imagines Jungkook is shovelling ramyeon into his mouth - can practically hear the slurp slurp slurp through your state of the art earphones - while they queue up. It makes his stomach growl. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

Slurp. Swallow. Response. "It sounded like a freaking animal."

Had Jungkook heard his stomach? No way. "That was me."

This seems to surprise the maknae, who takes a moment to cease his endless eating noises. Thank god - Taehyung had been worried the call was about to turn into a full-blown ASMR session, complete with smacking lips and clinking chopsticks. It wouldn't have been the first time. "Did you get a new headset?"

"Uh, no," comes his response after a beat. It's enough for his friend to latch onto, bowl of noodles long forgotten in favour of the unravelling string of his hesitation.

"You do sound clearer actually. Which did you get? Sennheiser?"

"I didn't get a new headset." Taehyung sounds a little as if he's frustrated with having to explain himself and that only makes the other all the more curious. He should've known. Since they'd been teenagers, Jungkook had been like this. Endlessly curious, tripping over his own feet to be included in whatever news their friend group had to share. It was almost always endearing.

"Then are you wearing a mic taped to your stomach?"

Another pause, punctuated by a sharp exhale.

It's only been a few weeks - three as of this weekend, in fact - and Taehyung's still not sure where you stand. Even when you were opening yourself up to him, there was always another layer. You were an enigma. An enigma wrapped inside a burrito. He chuckles at the thought and reminds himself to use the comparison later. He's sure you'd laugh and he loved the sound - like it was the most beautiful song in the world.

When Jungkook doesn't get an immediate response, Taehyung can practically feel the chagrin rolling through the chat. As much as the youngest liked to tease his hyungs - and he did it often, whether with words or action - he'd never purposely upset anyone. He didn't have a bad bone in his body.

Before he can apologize, Taehyung's cutting him off with a rush of words, like it's the greatest secret ever spoken into existence. "I'm at Jiyeon's."

He'd expected some sort of excitement or downright bro-like congratulations. It was how Jungkook operated, his bravado presented for all to see. Anything to hide that big soft heart of his. (He was different like that - hiding his sensitivity whereas Taehyung and Jimin paraded it around, shouted it from rooftops.)

Instead, there's silence. Because what he doesn't see is Jungkook looking like he's been sucker punched, dealt a straight shot to the gut that he hadn't expected. And why hadn't he expected it? He'd known you were seeing Taehyung, heard about your frequent dates from his friend himself. He'd had to smile along, offering congratulations like the mere thought wasn't burning him from the inside out, like battery acid hadn't replaced the blood in his veins.

"That's great, hyung." It sounds off to Taehyung's ears, cutting over the connection. For a moment, he wonders if he's jostled a cable. You'll kill him if he has. Then there's a bang, an ear-splittingly loud crash. "Shit! I have to clean this up."

Then there's the sound of a participant exiting the channel and he's left to queue all on his own.

"Four packages was two packages too many." You're groaning into your hands, your arms, anywhere you can bury your face. The cold glass of your coffee table is soothing against your cheek, your heated breath forming condensation across the surface.

Above your head, somewhere on the couch behind you, Taehyung laughs, the sound punctuated by chewing. "I could've told you that."

You're not sure how he's still eating, diligently working through his bowl of noodles when you feel like you might explode like some scene out of Alien. It's hard to breathe - in fact, you think you can feel the tail end of a noodle at the top of your throat - and you bite back a gag, shoulders shaking a little with the exertion.

You're being overdramatic, you know.

"I thought I was hungry! I thought you were hungry!" A hand is flying up, wrist weaving bonelessly through the air as if it'll help you drive your very poor point home.

"I am hungry." More laughter. You reach behind you, flailing wildly in the direction you know his legs are, and huff in triumph when your knuckles collide with the sharp bone of his shin. You ignore the fact that you've somehow hurt yourself, too. "You probably haven't eaten today so your stomach is the size of Po's."

As if on cue, the feline sweeps into the room, sniffing curiously at your prone figure before flouncing off to the kitchen in search of more interesting things.

"Why are you so reasonable?" You croak like a dying woman or a frog.

Somehow, against all odds, Taehyung still finds you adorable. He sets his bowl down on the side table, careful to place the chopsticks neatly across the rim, and bends at the waist to fix his hands under your armpits. You can already feel the upward momentum but whine nonetheless, the sound tipping out of your mouth like some sort of Dickensian street urchin.

"No! Stoooop."

"Come here," your not-boyfriend boyfriend coos, dragging you onto the couch. You slump against the cushions when he releases you, rather than falling into his side, eliciting another crinkly-eyed smile from him. It's hard to resist when he's like this, playful and enticing. Still, you try. You pretend like it's nothing, curling your arms around your middle as you stare up at the ceiling.

"I don't feel good." It's a statement that demands payment.

Taehyung happily gives it, peppering kisses over the delicate bones of your face, his broad chest encompassing your frame. He locks his arms around you, sliding them into place around your own, and holds you recklessly close. You don't think you could run if you tried. Whether it's from the noodles you've all but inhaled or the hazy desire that blooms beneath each of his kisses, you're not sure. Maybe both.

"I can make you feel good," he purrs, his mouth feather-light and teasing. He's focused on the sensitive dip by your ear, right where your pulse throbs, and you swear you hear him chuckle before you lose all sense of your surroundings.

The flat of his tongue presses against that sweet spot, laving hungrily at the skin like he might be able to taste the copper that sings beneath it. You whine, louder and higher than you'd meant to, desperate even to your muffled ears. You hear his laughter more clearly this time, breath hot against the outer shell of your ear, and you're not sure whether you're burning up on the outside or just internally.

"See, aren't you feeling better already?" Every word from his mouth is honeyed and intoxicating. You chase the sound, turning your face just in time to feel his lips against yours, more forceful than you'd anticipated. As much as he teased you, he was a kind and forgiving lover, bending to your will as easily you did his.

"You're terrible." You mean it like an insult but, in true fashion, he accepts it like the greatest compliment he's ever received. He preens with it, tossing his head back, causing his hair to fall prettily over his eyes.

Eyes that threaten to swallow you whole, if you'd let them. They're so dark, the ring of his iris all but engulfed by the desire that presents itself in the void of his pupils.

Your heart stutters in your chest. Your breath catches, hitches and careens into a gasp. Somewhere, just beyond the realm of comprehension, you recognize a familiar fluttering in your core. He's looking at you like you're the most beautiful piece of art he's ever seen and he wants to bang - hang - you on the wall, where you belong.

"Do you want me to stop?" Despite whatever war wages in his mind and the thrum of want that skitters up his bones, he's genuine in his delivery. He wants you to want this as bad as he does. He won't hold it against you if you don't.

You owe it to him to be honest. "I'm not sure."

You don't miss the way his expression slips, fall just an inch. He's so careful to retain his composure, offering you the most heartfelt smile you could ever hope for. It doesn't quite reach his eyes, despite his best efforts. You feel awful. Worse then awful. Like you'd shut the sun out.

You reach for him all at once, long fingers framing the edges of his face, thumb sweeping just beneath his eye. He blinks once, twice, and says nothing.

"I want you," you start. It's not clear where you're going with this but you hope you find it along the way - for both of your sake's. "I like you, Kim Taehyung." His eyes sparkle when you say his full name and you want to give up this conversation and smother him in kisses instead. "I really, really like you. But I'm also scared." You say it out loud, though you're certain he already knows.

He presses a kiss to the pad of your thumb that's drifted and found a rhythm in soothing circles at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm an assa." You don't seek pity or understanding. You'd chosen this; you liked it this way. "I don't let people in often. Those I do, I trust explicitly." Your hand slides to his chest, palm flat down the column of his throat to the expanse hidden just beneath his shirt. You settle there, over his heart, and tap experimentally. "I don't want to ruin this - whatever it is - because I expect too much. We deserve to be on the same page. I don't want to ask for more than you can give."

Where the words have come from isn't clear but they spill forth, settling like lead into your veins. He's only been good to you, accepting all of your quirks and flaws in stride. From the first time you'd lashed out - irritable after a long night of rearranging notes - to the time he'd found you half-asleep in front of the fridge at 3 AM, he's accepted you without hesitation. Time and time again, he'd proven his capacity for kindness, for giving you everything and asking nothing in return.

But you can't help the little voice in your head, the same one that demands love in the same breath it rebuffs it.

"I'm right here with you." As if to drive his point home, Taehyung's hand finds yours and squeezes. He's so heartbreakingly handsome like this, unwavering in his sincerity. "But even if I weren't," he indulges your worries, because he knows he needs to face these demons with you, lest they steal you away, "we'd still be reading the same book. You'd just be a few chapters ahead and that's okay."

Not for the first time, you're reminded of how overwhelmingly good he is. It makes your heart swell ten sizes and you crash your lips to his because you want to and he wants it, too.

"You're so poetic," you muse, withdrawing just enough that your words don't get lost.

He grins and does that same toss of his head, chin cocked as his tongue swipes over the soft pillow of his bottom lip. "O, Juliet, Juliet, wherefore art thou, Juliet?" He's inching closer, like it's a game, and you're nearly stumbling back, though you have nowhere to go. "Deny thy father and refuse thy name." There's mischief in this expression, setting his smile aglow. "Take all of me."

You only manage to get your taunting response out, a snarky "that's not how that goes" before he's upon you, devouring you whole.

Despite the hunger in his kiss, the way his mouth slants over yours in a demand, it's anything but rushed. He takes his time in coaxing your mouth open, seeking out the warmth with tentative passes of his tongue. You hum appreciatively when he chases yours with his own, catching your bottom lip between his teeth as some sort of punishment for getting away. You think you could do this forever.

So you pout when he withdraws, out of breath and delirious. You think you must look the same, can see it reflected in his blown out pupils.

As if to sooth your ache - it's not enough - he caresses your jaw, the delicate line of your neck, capable hands running the gamut of hot and heavy and soft and searing. He's sprinkling weak kisses where his hands go, following the paths they carve over your exposed skin. When he dips his tongue into the dainty turn of your collar bone, you keen, chasing the sensation when he exhales cold breath over it.

"We have lots of time," he parrots with a grin so smug, so salacious, you want to cry.

You're pouting, fingers curling into the silk at his nape, tugging none-too-gently on the hairs there.

He seems to find that funny, his nose brushing the collar of your shirt, the valley of your chest that he aches to explore. "Patience is a virtue."

"Who says I'm virtuous?"

You're meeting his surprised stare with big doe eyes, a coy smile playing over your kiss-swollen lips. Taehyung almost considers giving in. Almost.

Instead, he returns to the task at hand, trailing open-mouth kisses across the front of your shirt. He's grateful for the flimsy cotton, the way it drapes over you like wrapping paper begging to be torn apart. You're reclined against the cushions but it's not enough - there's no more space for him to nose past your rib cage. He stops; you whine.

"Tell me we can keep going." The words are nearly lost into your skin. He's holding you so intimately, the curve of his cheek pressed to the underside of your breast. He can feel the scalloped trim of your bra. It's not nearly enough. He wants what's underneath, exhales his need in a throaty moan, lips seeking out his hidden treasure.

You don't immediately respond and his head snaps up, a little concerned. But you're not looking at him, lost to the ceiling above and the heavens beyond. You look so hot. He feels his cock twitch and he has to remind himself to wait, to hold out for your breathless yes.

The moment it comes, you're in his arms and your eyes snap to his face, bewildered. He's an anomaly beneath you, equal parts hard and soft. The planes of his stomach are taut but comfortable; he's lean muscle beneath a yielding layer. You've never been this close, body pressed recklessly against his as he carries you to your bedroom. Your ankles lock around him, heel of your bare feet digging into the expanse of his lower back. He says nothing, simply nuzzles into your softness of your neck and smothers you with affection.

"What was wrong with the couch?" It's meant to be mocking but it loses its edge when Taehyung releases you atop your bed, eagerly slotting himself between your knees when your hold on him releases.

His hands are driven, making quick work of your tee shirt, and then he's feasting like a man-starved, taking in every line of your body like he can commit it to memory. "You're so beautiful," he says in response, diving into your skin that begs to be touched, soft as silk and unblemished. He hums happily against your throat, licking a wet stripe from your clavicle to your ear, pausing to bite thoughtfully on the lobe. The sounds you make should be illegal. He wants to hear them forever, until the day he dies.

The strap of your flimsy bra - pretty periwinkle lace, he notes with a quirked brow - twists around his finger and he can feel you staring at him, expectant. When he lets it fall and you huff, he wants to laugh. He doesn't, though, choosing to drop his head to follow the trail of his hands over the swell of your chest. Thumb and then mouth catch, teeth nipping at your nipple in a way that makes your back arch. He flicks his tongue out, circling the pebbled bud with precision, and he thinks he might be stealing the breath right out of your lungs by the way you're coming undone beneath him.

"Sensitive?" He drags the edge of lace down between his teeth until the fabric is caught beneath your tits, showcasing them proudly. He leans back on his calves, catching your wrists with ease when you try to cover up. You're so pretty like this, head thrown back, body on display. Like a piece of art.

He wishes he had his camera.

"You're a tease, Kim Taehyung." You don't know how much he loves it when you say his name like this, a little authoritative and full of want.

Your own personal Adonis settles over you once again, kissing you as if his life depends on it. He swallows you whole, taking all of your moans and pleas like they're prayers and he's your deity. Maybe he is. "Patience, jagiya." You can feel him grinning against you, sweet as sin. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, dragging the edges of your teeth over the sensitive petal.

Now it's his turn to whimper, hand fisting into your hair before relaxing, fingers soothing the roots he'd just pulled.

"I said patience," he repeats. You don't have time to test him again, suddenly encompassed by the feeling of his warmth pulling away, drifting lower. You miss the weight of him, his chest pressed to yours.

But you like this, too, his hot breath fanning over your skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. You like it even more when he licks a strip down the valley of your cleavage, inhaling your scent. You're sure you're coloured like a neon Christmas sign, rouge blossoming over your skin where you want more - need more.

"I'm going to be so good to you."

How he manages to be so unrelentingly sweet, even while mouthing sloppy kisses over your bare abdomen, you're not sure. He does it so well, like this side of him is only for you. It makes you see stars. They flicker brightly in your vision, sparked to life with each pass of his lips, each concentrated glide of his hands.

"Look at me." It seems almost impossible that his voice has dropped even further, the lower octave simultaneously exciting and surprising. It sinks like weights in your stomach, forcing your eyes to his face. He's at the edge of the bed, his head ducked against the swell of your bare thigh - when had that happened? - eyes half-lidded as if swept up in dreams. You know he's paying attention when he nips gently at the sensitive flesh, manipulating your softness with firm, unyielding hands. "Do you know how crazy you drive me?"

You thought you'd had a clue - had spied it in the way he kissed you in the morning, held your hand in his - but you were wrong. You realize that now, watching him watching you.

"Show me," you all but whisper. An appeal, a wish, a begging demand.

When he looks at you, it's as if your words are the keys to his heart. He smiles that blindingly handsome smile and dips forward, shifting your calf over his shoulder. You think you might die from the sight alone but you're sure you do - heart stopped and all - when you feel his breath at the juncture of your legs.

He inhales deeply and you blush scarlet, the desire to clamp your thighs shut twitching your limbs. As if he can sense your sudden shame, he redirects your attention with the tip of his tongue. You nearly buck at the sensation, somehow already wound so tight that the feeling is a harsh constriction of the coil in your stomach. You need him. "Tae, please." The sound is a garbled whine, half bitten into the pillows you're buried in.

Luckily, he needs this just as much as you do. He's generous with his love, spreading you wide open and nearly groaning at the sight. You're already dripping, inviting him to sink his tongue into you. He alternates between long, languid strokes along your slit and teasing, penetrating delves of his tongue into your hole. He dutifully ignores your clit. You writhe beneath him and he mimics the motion, grinding his straining erection into the bed. He feels a little bad when the motion jostles you but he thinks you don't care, too far gone in your own blissful heaven to notice.

"Tae," his name barely registers, so caught up in the taste of you and the way you coat his tongue, his lips, his chin. "Tae. Baby. Please." You're keening, teetering dangerously on the edge of ecstasy. You hadn't known how badly you needed this and now it's eating you alive, burning you from both ends until you're left in ashes.

"What, jagi?" Taehyung's the devil in disguise, pausing his ministrations to suck a wet kiss into your thigh. Wet from his own mouth or your juices, he's not sure.

"I need more," you whine, the neediest he's ever seen you. He's so turned on. He curses his choice of pants, the soft cotton too inconsequential against him and his useless rutting. He needs a zipper or your hands or better yet, your mouth. But this isn't about him.

This is about you. He'd come later. Literally.

"Is this more?" The last word disappears, a shot in the dark as he wraps his lips around your aching clit and sucks, simultaneously sinking his middle finger into your feverish core. He groans when your hips undulate with the pressure, seeking out more like the greedy kitten you are. He pumps into you once, then three more times for good measure, before adding his ring finger, endlessly proud of the way you take him to the knuckles without an ounce of hesitation. "You're doing so good," he praises you as if he knows you need it, laving at the sensitive bundle of nerves with unrelenting attention.

He can feel it before you're able to verbalize the words, your walls fluttering around his fingers, your plea careening off your tongue. "Please don't stop. I'm so, so close." A hiccup. Your voice is wet. "Tae, please."

So he doesn't, instead twisting until he finds that spongy spot at the front of your pelvic wall. He rocks against it, fingers tapping with brutal precision. It's what sends you over the edge into an Earth-shatteringly strong orgasm that he fucks you through with tender care, rolling your clit over his tongue and basking in the feel of you soaking his hand (and face and chest).

Your head's still in the clouds when he pops up, triumphant. Even in your fucked-out bliss, you recognize he's drenched. If he didn't look so proud, you think you'd be mortified.

"Well, that's a first."

notes. as @fortunexkookie and @taehyungforreal (two of my main reasons for writing, tbh, and people i fangirl over from afar) once said, kim taehyung remains the reigning king of lovemaking. i hope i did him justice. xo

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