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hyperfixat · 3 months

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HI!! i have decided on a posting schedule for this fic!! once a month, every month on the 25th, i hope you look forward to it <3 due to someone asking i will have a taglist, so please leave a comment or ask (i won’t post if you ask me not to) to join. any comments or reblogs mean a lot, thank you all for the support i have received.

also, dunno if i mentioned; while the reader is intended to be inclusive toward everyone they are, in the canon of me writing them, bisexual. everything else is up to interpretation

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** Written PRE 1.5 – Any mentions of new characters is pure speculation and or headcanons.

The Astral Express decides to stop at the Xianzhou Luofu first, then wrap things up on Jarilo VI. According to Pompom the train’s warp is near instant, so they won’t set for take off until the early hours of tomorrow.

Due to them being the first to offer, that night you spend in Caelus’ room. It’s pretty bare bones, an uneven mix of Dan Heng literally living in the archives and March 7th’s tasteful over decoration.

They offer their bed to you, willing to sleep on their relaxing-chair, but Caelus is the proud owner of a queen size bed. Long story short, their bed is large enough to share, and you do.

Initially you had fallen asleep on separate ends, but throughout the night, you migrated closer, making it so that when you crack your dry eyes open as the lights at Herta’s station turn on for the day, you’re greeted with front row seats to Caelus’ face.

After the initial fluster of emotions, you calm your body and mind and get ready to seize the day.

“So who, here, are we gathering up, again?” March questions you merrily, holding a hand out to help you off the express and onto the landing port.

“I hope everyone will still be here,” you muse, basking in the cool air of the flagship. “Will the Stellaron Hunters be here, you think?”

“Probably,” Dan Heng affirms, moving to stand next to you. You glance at him and smile.

“There’s Jing Yuan, Loucha, Fu Xuan, Bailu, Yukong,” you briefly consider mentioning Jinglui or Tingyun, but decide against it. “Yanqing, and of course Blade, Kafka, and Silver Wolf.”

“I doubt Silver Wolf will be here in person,” Caelus nods. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her not as one of her fancy holograms.”

The six of you, the whole Express minus the conductor, casually walk through the scape of the Central Starskiff Haven, taking in the sights.

The weather (which is likely simulated) is nice and cool enough not to warrant you drowning in sweat. March 7th casually slips her arm through yours, tugging you closer to her. Your gaits are forced to be in sync, but you weren’t walking that much differently than her.

“Be gentle with them, March,” Himeko lightly chides. Her hand falls on your other shoulder, lightly squeezing.

“I’m fine, Ms Himeko,” you reply lightly laughing. “March wasn’t rough.”

“Oh? Well if it isn’t the Astral Express!” Jing Yuan is walking at your group, crossing the flow of walking traffic. He’s so much larger than the game made him seem; he’s taller and broader (especially in the chest) than his game model portrayed. His hair looks shiny and smooth, and you’re staring, aren’t you? Alluring golden eyes meet yours, “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

You don’t want to speak, too afraid you’ll make an absolute fool out of yourself in front of the General.

“Hey Jing Yuan,” Caelus, ever the angel, redirects his attention. “We need to have a meeting with you and a few others later on. Are you free this evening?”

“Hm?” Jing Yuan gives a distracted sound of affirmation. “Indeed, I am.”

The next person you run into is Master Diviner, Fu Xuan. The short pink haired girl (Fu Xuan in this instance, not March 7th) looks up at the commotion of your group’s entrance.

“The Astral Express and… friend. How can I help you today?”

Caelus and March help lead the introductions throughout the day and before you know it you’ve tracked down Qingque, Loucha, Sushang, and are now on the hunt for the hunters.

“Are we sure they’re here?” You ask after another detour down an Aurum Alley backstreet leads to nothing. “Could they be… I don’t know… at their secret base?”

Welt frowns, resting his weight onto his cane as he comes to a stop next to you. “We can only keep looking, as we don’t know where that so-called secret base is. If we don’t find them soon,” he sighs. “We will have our discussion without them.”

Your group resigns to having your meeting with the Xianzhou Luofu residents without the Stellaron Hunters.

Qingque listens to what you say with a blank, contemplative face, her hands fiddling with her Mahjong pieces, fingers rubbing the smooth finish. She looks at you when you move your gaze away, eyes watching you curiously.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” you finish off your mini-speech. “But, please, you all are vital parts of this world and its story, and I don’t know who else to turn to.”

Loucha has long set his coffin down beside him, letting the thing take up an entire chair’s space. Jing Yuan looks across the table at the blond man, “what do you make of this situation?”

“It sounds absurd.” The voice didn’t come from your table. You lift your head and look around the empty plaza.

“Silver Wolf?” When you utter her name, her hologram flickers beside you. She’s semi-opaque and looks down at you.

“You know my name.” Silver Wolf aprases you. “That does help prove your point, I’ll give you that.” Her gaze moves to a well maintained shrub across the way, “I think it’s legit, Kafka.”

“Kafka?” Jing Yuan’s eyebrow raises. At that moment her well maintained, elegant form slips out from the branches of the bush. She pulls out a stray leaf from her hair and nods at the General.

“How intriguing.” Kafka switches her focus to you, “if what you say is indeed true…”

“It is.” You say before you can stop yourself. Her eyebrow lifts at your eager reply.

Fu Xuan crosses her legs and stares harshly at the wine haired woman. “You are a wanted criminal on the Xianzhou Luofu.”

Kafka gasps, faux hurt on her face. Her hand lays over her chest, right where her heart is. “Imprisoning me would be against your better interests regarding this one right here.” She says, referring to you. “If Elio were to know of how this little one has come to our world, who would be able to ask if not me?”

“Silver Wolf could, no?” Fu Xuan bites back. When her gaze moves to where Silver Wolf’s hologram was though, she has disappeared. Kafka giggles softly.

“I take it that is a no,” Jing Yuan chuckles.

“A game…” Qingque muses softly. Sushang, seated beside her, nabs a lone Mahjong tile, flipping it in the air idly. “It’s so odd. I have a whole life of memories, yet you say I am only built to be a side piece for entertainment.”

You look down at your lap, face feeling hot with shame at ever evening playing Honkai Star Rail. It’s not like you could have known…

Madam Yukong hums, “while I am inclined to believe you, is there any proof you can offer us? Something you know that would otherwise be unexplainable?”

Loucha is silent in his seat. “How much do you know about us?” He seems troubled.

You think, wondering where the question came from at the same moment a certain cutscene comes to mind. Loucha was somewhere he shouldn’t have been and is carrying more than just a coffin laden with secrets around.

“As a general rule of thumb, I won’t be revealing anything possibly hurtful or incriminating about anyone here.” You sigh, a line of worry coming across your forehead. This is all a lot to deal with. “I… I will do my best not to infringe on any of your private lives.”

“Hey now,” March puts on a sympathetic tone and pets the crown of your head. “I’m fine with you infringing on my private life.” The words most definitely contain an innuendo that you don’t think anyone at the table failed to miss.

With pink cheeks Dan Heng says as well, “You have become somewhat important to me in the limited time we’ve known each other. I would not object to having a more private relationship with you.”

Rounding back to the Foxian’s question you address her. “I mean, yeah, I could tell you what I know of your lives, but honestly? It’s mostly trauma, and sad, sad things.”

Yukong takes a long pause, lips thinning. “I see. I will lend you my trust for now, though I wish to have a private moment with you later on.”

The whole table shares with you that you have no need to worry about forging bonds with them, and it makes you tear up a bit. “That’s very kind of you all, thank you.” Once the emotional moment has come and gone, you realize the absence of one key character.

“Kafka, where’s Blade?”

Her face, that remained unchanging for the whole duration of the conversation, falls slightly. “The Mara is harsh on him today.”

“Oh,” you’d almost forgotten about the Mara. The affliction that curses those who don’t die by it, leading Blade into an undying fate of misery. “I would like to talk to him and fill him in on me being here.”

“He will come and find me soon enough. Wait here with me, darling.” A warm feeling covers your face and chest at the pet name she gives you. Everything about this woman makes you feel crazy….

“Leave them alone with you?” March's tone makes it clear how much she detests the idea. “No way!”

Kafka pouts, eyes lidding as she looks over at the girl, “would you rather I take them to meet Bladie?”

Caelus calls your name, meeting your eyes considerately. “You played our world as a game, so you must have an answer to this. Do you trust Kafka to bring you no harm if we leave your side?”

Now that… it’s not like you’re alone in a desolate place with her. Screaming is always an option. The thought of spending time alone with her makes your heart beat faster and fills your head with its sound. You got sidetracked, imagining sitting side by side with the woman… rather you should focus on the question at hand.

“Yes.” It’s half true. You wonder if her Elio has given her orders regarding anyone from other worlds. Hopefully nothing like ‘eliminate them on sight.’

The Xianzhou Luofu and Astral Express crew bid you goodbyes, Himeko making a point to narrow her eyes threateningly at Kafka as she exits the pavilion.

Kafka drags a chair out next to you and leans on her elbows, gazing at you. You force yourself to maintain calm, even breaths, willing and praying for the heat in your face to dissipate.

The two of you sit there in silence for a moment.

“I wonder if Elio foresaw me coming into this world,” you muse, gazing into Kafka’s pupil-less eyes. The color, a captivating mix of red wine and magenta, doesn’t give away emotion.

“I doubt it.” Her words are floaty and smooth, “As much as I don’t want to admit that, but your existence seems beyond even Elio’s grasp of understanding.”

“Will…” those words send an uncomfortable feeling down your spine. “Will he be angry about that?”

“Who’s to say?” Though in her unchanging eyes you swear you see a hint of amusement. “Though the way you captivate the hearts and minds of everyone you come across, I don’t believe you to be in any danger.”

Well, at least you don’t have to worry about being nuked or anything at the moment. That’s a relief.

Occasionally making small talk, the sun sets on the Loufu as you and Kafka watch. It’s quite intimate for having just met today, but you find your head leaning on her shoulder, breathing in her scent.

While the sky is painted twilight purple, Blade finally makes his presence.

His gait is cool and slow and had you not known of his Mara-Struck status you would think he’s calm and relaxed. His red pupils dilate when he catches sight of you, and they flick over to Kafka where they stay.

“I am late.” He says, though does not apologize.

“Don’t worry about it, Bladie, I had plenty of time to learn about this little one.” Kafka rubs the back of her hand on your cheek, the rings unnaturally cool against your face. It envokes a rush of heat to your face, making you divert your gaze to Blade, who takes the seat next to you.

You’re caged in between the two most beautiful, cool, and awesome Stellaron Hunters. Breathe. Just breathe and don’t pass out or get a bloody nose, because that’d be so cringe.

Kafka’s laugh twinkles in the air like wind chimes at your reaction.

“Are you planning on staying with the Astral Express?” Blade probes. He traces the planes of your face mentally, taking in every detail that graces you.

“Oh?” Kafka leans across you to tease her… (dog) comrade. “Recruiting them already, are we?”

Recruiting you? Are they trying to get you to join their organization? What use would you be as a Stellaron Hunter? You have no battle experience (how would battle even work? Turn based fighting, even in the real world?), so you’re useless there. You have some tech know-how, but clearly nowhere near Silver Wolf’s talent. All you have is— oh.

They want your knowledge about being from beyond this world, don’t they? That revelation brings a sour feeling to your soul. So you weren’t being paid attention to out of genuine interest rather they’re using how you react so positively to being fawned over to gain your favor.

You pull back, away from Kafka and Blade. The chair scrapes the pavement painfully, shrieking as it does so. Both of their gazes flash over to you.

“Where are you headed off to little one?” Kafka calls for you as you gather yourself and stand. Blade remains silent, but his gaze makes up for it in intensity. Though with Kafka’s eyes being clouded and without pupils, it’s not a high calling.

“Restroom.” You lie comfortably.

“Let me come with you,” Kafka says, moving to standing as well.

Even if you do not use the same restroom, you shake your head. “It’s okay, I’ll be back,” maybe.

Himeko finds you wandering Central Starskiff Haven alone, her fiery hair flowing behind her as she speeds up her walk to a brisk pace. She calls out your name, making you look up and offer a half smile.

“Ms Himeko.” You greet.

When she reaches your side, she wraps a lean arm around your shoulders, and tugs you a tad bit closer. Her sweet perfume feels like a second hug.

“Did Kafka abandon you?” Himeko’s words bring a more genuine smile to your face, and respond lightly.

“I didn’t want to continue the conversation we were having.”

Her hand strokes over your hair, “hm? Do you want to elaborate on that or would you rather not breach that topic for now?” You wrap your arms around her waist, seeking comfort, and ignoring the way her golden accessories dig into your torso.

“I want to go home,” you reply quietly, speaking into her skin. Though you don’t know if you wish to go to your home, your home in the real world, or simply seek out the safety and privacy of the Astral Express.

“Let’s get you home, then.” Himeko keeps you close as you navigate through the thinning crowds. Her arms are sturdy as she keeps you close from other pedestrians.

“Where are the others?” you wonder idly. Perhaps they took the time to catch up with the Xianzhou Luofu locals. You hope they won’t leave early for your sake, childishly running away when things don’t go quite the way you’d wanted. That’d make you feel far worse than you already do.

“I believe Caelus and General Jing Yuan are training with Yanqing,” Himeko begins. “March is at the Divination Commision. Welt and Dan Heng are in the Exalting Sanctum. As for the native citizens, I can’t say I paid much attention to where they headed off to.”

You nod contemplatively. “Can we get something to drink, or eat, before we head back to the Express?” It seems like a decent way to spend the time, and your body seems to have realized that you haven’t eaten much today.

Himeko agrees, and both of you find your way to an outdoor table at the Sleepless Earl, the both of you nursing Immortal’s Delights and sharing a new cake they’re testing out. Mengming was eager to offer up the slice to you both, and well, free food is free food. It’s delicious too.

At a certain point you realize just how much of a date it is you’re on with Himeko, a classic coffee shop date. It makes warmth flutter in your chest like butterflies on fire. And she’s not doing it out of desire to wring you for information. Perhaps she feels some moral obligation to not let you get lost, but it seems that she likes you, genuinely, as a person. That brings a soft smile to your face that you cover with a sip of your sweet coffee.

Before you find yourself lost once more in the gold of Himeko’s eyes once again a flash of orange hair and brilliant fire catches your attention from your peripheral vision.

There’s a familiar looking street performer showing off dangerous fire swallowing tricks with a crowd surrounding her. With a start you realize it’s an unreleased character, one you had not accounted for being here.

Gui… something.

Himeko follows your gaze when you jolt, “I’m sure those tricks are safe, she looks well practiced.” Her cool hand covers yours, her gold rings clinking against the table.

You shake your head, “she’s part of the game.”

“Hm? I thought we rounded up everyone on this nation already?”

“I thought so too. She’s unreleased, but I’ve seen her trailer and some leaks. Gui, ah I can’t recall her name, but we should probably catch her attention when we can.”

Gui is amazing at keeping the crowd around her engaged. She’s a natural performer.

There’s a round of cheers as she leans back comically, covering her mouth like she’s going to cough before leaning upwards and blowing out a sharp stream of flame from her mouth.

“She’s really good,” you murmur to yourself, transfixed by her crowdwork.

“Indeed,” Himeko nods.

Guinaifen, you remember her name just as she takes a large, performative bow. The citizens around her disperse and you whisper her name under your breath. As if she could hear you, her amber eyes meet yours from across the pavilion. Her head tilts, her side ponytail leaning more crooked than it was.

“We should talk to her,” you say, but shyness is a hard beast to battle and you drop your stare.

Himeko lets out an amused huff as she stands and crosses to talk to the girl.

A few moments later the two fiery haired women return to your table. Guinaufen drags a chair from an empty nearby table and sits next to you.

“Ms Himeko here says you need to talk to me about something? I saw you watching my performance, so if you’re asking for trade secrets, I have to let you down now. A magician never reveals her secrets~.” There’s a sheen of sweat across her forehead and her baby hairs make a halo around her face. Your mouth dries up when you look at her.

“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” you say with a hoarse chuckle. You lift your refreshing drink up to wet your palate. “Actually, it’s a bit on the serious side. I would have invited you to the meeting earlier, but I didn’t expect to find you here.”

“Hm? What meeting?”

“You have to take my word for it but I am not lying. Make an audience with the general if you want. He will back up my claims.” You ignore her question, instead focusing on carefully delivering your words. “This is a game. I played this world as a video game, but somehow I wound up here and I’m letting you know because you are an important side character. I did not know to search for you, because you aren’t a part of the story yet. If a time comes where I need your assistance to get me back to where I belong or something like that, I wanted you to be informed of this.”

“HUH?”

After thorough explanation with Himeko’s assistance, you bid Guinaifen farewell.

The artificial lighting of the Alliance ships dims as time passes, simulating a sunset as a natural planet would have. When the sky turns orange and pink, the same soft pink as a certain March 7th’s hair, you and Himeko decide to make your way back to where the Astral Express docked.

To your surprise, when you step into the passenger cart the breasts of Jing Yuan greet you. You blink, then look up to meet the man’s eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Jing Yuan chuckles to help alleviate your embarrassment.

“It’s quite alright, I must be going now, I hope to see you again, and soon,” he finishes by saying your name, the deep rumble of his voice bringing more warmth to your face.

“You too, me too. Uh, bye Jing Yuan, I hope to see you soon.” You’re going to die, that was so embarrassing, what the fuck, you’re so so silly. Himeko hides a smile, wrapping her arm around your shoulders to escort you back down the sleeping cart and to the safety of her room where you can recover from your flush.

taglist. @leafanonsforest

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #isekai #honkai star rail isekai #self aware honkai star rail #sahsrau #xianzhou luofu #astral express crew x reader #hsr x you #tagging is hard

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sachiko1309 · 6 months

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Daddy's girl

Summary: Carlisle just taking care of his little girl, while they are chaperoning a school trip

This is part of a story I write on Wattpad, as I am conviced this man needs more attention. Its called "Save Haven - Carlise Cullen". Feel free to hop over, my account name is in my description. 🥰

Word count: 3667

Warnings: period sex, daddy kink (sorry, it got the best of me 😏), praise kink, description of blood, general warning for the vampire daddy himself

Minors DNI! This contains adult content

It had been a draining day. Misses Harrison insisted on going the whole hike she planned out even though it was raining all morning. When we came back, I was drenched to the bones, shaking like a dry leave in the wind. And to all abundance, my period decided to come a few days early. So, I was fighting the whole hike against the cold, while my stomach tried to kill me. Back in the cabin, I let Bella hop into the shower first, because she looked even worse than I did. The Cullens were finished with changing their clothes so fast, I didn’t even realize they left.

When it was my turn, I pealed myself out of the wet clothes, groaning at the pain shooting through me. All I wanted was to crawl in my bed and forget the world even existed. Luckily, Carlisle was able to talk Misses Harrison out of her collective plan for the evening, convincing her smaller house groups could would be easier to be kept entertained during the shitty weather. After a hot shower I changed into fresh clothes, wrapping my up in one of Carlisles sweaters I stole from him for the trip. I looked like I drowned inside his way to big clothes, but right now I only cared about them being exceptionally warm.

Leaving the room, I ran into the Cullen kids and Bella sitting on the sofa. Jasper tensing up as soon as I stepped into the living room. He had been avoiding me like the plague all day, and it wasn’t until now, that it hit me. My period. He could smell my blood. “We all can.” Edward answered. “Good luck with Carlisle though.” He chuckled turning back to play with Bellas hair who was in a deep conversation with Alice. I scrunched my nose at his mysterious words, but shrugged it off, entering Carlisle and my bedroom.

As soon as I entered, I understood, what Edward meant. Carlisle was sitting on his bed and when his eyes landed on mine, he let out a low growl. His nostrils flaring, while his body tensed up. Instinctively, I stepped towards him: “Whats wrong, honey?” But he raised his hand, stopping me from approaching any further: “Don’t come any closer. Your smell… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Is it because I am on my period?” I asked, stepping back towards the door. He groaned at my words, leaning back on the bed. “Yes. I thought I could handle it, but its worse than I’d like to admit.”

“But you are not affected by human blood.” I said, not fully understanding what he meant.

“That’s not entirely true. Other humans blood doesn’t affect me. Yours on the other hand is another story. Like Bella to Edward you are my singer. The one human whos blood is more appealing than normal. And if I wouldn’t be abstinent for such a long time…” He let the end of his sentence hang in the air.

Sucking in a deep breath, I grasped for the door handle: “I will leave you alone then. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” But I wasn’t even able to fully open the door, when he was behind me, shutting the door with such force, I was surprise he didn’t break it. “No!” He growled. “Not when Jasper is around. Not when you smell this good.” His hands were on each side of my head, caging me in between the door and his tall frame. My heart beat so fast in my chest, that my head started to spin. Carlisle dipped down his head, starting to kiss my neck up and down, growling deeply the whole time. Him being this close made me tense up, but he didn’t seem to notice, grabbing me by my waist, pushing me into the corner of the room. I tried to force him back, but he didn’t even react to my hands pushing him away.

“Carlisle stop.” I whispered, my voice shaky and fearful. He didn’t listen, so I tried again: “Carlisle, you scare me.” Those words seemed to snap him out of his frenzy, because as soon as I said it, he jumped back, cowering in the opposite corner of the room. “Aubrey, I am sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me. I couldn’t…” He stopped, looking away from me. My eyes went soft, as soon as I saw how much he struggled with it. “Don’t worry, Carlisle. I trust you.” My words didn’t seem to help him one bit. Raging up he looked at me with angry eyes. “No, Aubrey. I could have easily killed you, or gone against your wishes. You don’t understand. I am a monster!”

“But you didn’t.” I answered calmly. “You stopped when I asked you to. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes…”

“Yeah, but mine get you killed. I should leave.” He got up from his crouched position, but I moved in front of the door, blocking him from leaving. “Get out of the way, Aubrey.” He growled, but I shook my head. “I am not going anywhere. You either tell me how I can help you, or I am not moving.”

Carlisle squinted his eyes. “I could easily move you out of the way.”

“Then do it.” I challenged him, tilting up my chin. “Move me out of the way. Show me what a coldhearted monster you are, that doesn’t care for my feelings.”

He roared in anger and it took everything in me not to run away from him. Because right now he really did look like a vampire. The way his black eyes hungrily scanned me, his whole body shaking in anger and frustration. The way he clenched his jaw to fight for control. But he didn’t touch me, or force me away from the door. One last deep growl later he sank down on his bed, collapsing in himself.

I took that as my cue to sit down next to him, grabbing his hand and leading it to my face. “I love you, Carlisle. Much more than I can tell you. Please tell me, how I can help you.” He took a deep breath, the expression on his face growing softer. “There is not much you can do. I just wasn’t prepared for you to get your period. I expected it when we where back home so you in this small room, smelling so appealing… It just got the best of me.”

“So, you don’t want to kill me anymore?” I joked, tilting my head in his hand. He chuckled, softly caressing my cheek. “Not more than usual.” Suddenly he maneuvered me on the bed, until he was leaning on top of me. “You do however look very cute, wearing my clothes.”

I could feel the tension in the room suddenly shift from strained to sexual.

Carlisle had me now pinned underneath him, planting soft little kisses on my neck and face. “Just cute?” I asked, audibly out of breath by his actions. He hummed into my ear. “Actually no. You look fucking ravishing.” It was a rare occurrence for him to cuss, but whenever he did, he used it in the most sensual way possible. “I wanna fuck you.” His statement caught me off guard, making me stutter in surprise: “I am on my period. And you nearly lost it minutes ago.”

Nestling with my sweatpants and my hoodie, he grinned down at me. “Sex has been proven to help with the cramping and the pain.” I didn’t resist him taking off my clothes, relishing in this intimate and dirty moment he was creating. “So, this is for pure medical reasons?”

“Purely.” He whispered against my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt over my whole body. Before I could even blink, he vanished from the room and was back, before the door fully swung open. A big towel in his hand. Lifting me up with one arm, he planted the towel underneath me, setting me back down again. Then he shuffled down until his head was between my legs.

“What are you doing?” I shrieked away, but he just kept my legs open, a wicked smile starting to spread onto his face. I knew what he was about to do, but I was still caught by surprise, when he tugged on the string of my tampon, effectively pulling it out. Carelessly he wrapped it inside a paper towel, disregarding it on the floor. “Carlisle!” I yelped out, but the rest of my complaint got stuck in my throat, as soon as he dipped his head down. A deep moan rumbling through my body, as soon as he licked one long stripe over my pussy.

My fingers found their way to his hair, pulling on the roots. His deep sensual growl answering my desperate needs. I could feel myself growing wetter instantly. Welcoming his cold fingers into my warmth. His touch was as light as a feather, having me on the edge of madness in seconds. “Carlisle.” I breathed out, unable to focus on anything else than the man between my legs. Pulled into the depths of his black eyes.

He was fingerfucking me slowly to the rhythm his tongue danced on my clit. “Please don’t stop.” I cried out, not caring on who was going to hear me. The smirk that started forming on his face was breathtaking. Full of confidence and arrogance. Something I rarely saw on him. “Never.” Was all he answered, slowly adding another finger. It was ridiculous how fast he was able to find that sweet spot deep inside of me. Fingers feeling so good, I couldn’t stop the moans spilling through the room.

“You taste so good.” He groaned, raising his head to properly look at me. His chin and mouth were covered in a mix of my slick and blood, making me gasp out in embarrassment. He looked so dangerous and appealing at the same time it was impossible for me to stay sane. Watching intently how tiny droplets of blood ran down his chin, dripping from his fangs. It was a dance on razors edge, having him taste my blood while simultaneously fingering to my orgasm, but I didn’t care. Mesmerized by the way his eyes were flickering between lust and hunger. Between the desire to fuck and kill me. And me being absolutely turned on by it was something I never imagined to happen.

Carlisles smile just grew wicked, when he realized how his appearance affected me. Wiping the blood off with his fingers licking them clean in the most sexual way I could imagine, he looked me deep in the eyes. “You like that, do you?” He asked. Unable to answer as I felt a third finger thrust against my core, I moaned in pleasure. “Answer me, love, or I will stop.”

“Yes.” Was all I was able to press out, is name now falling of my lips like a sweet prayer, not that there was anything holy left in this room, but I couldn’t care less.

As if he sensed the coil in my stomach growing tighter, he placed his other hand on my mouth, muffling my moans. “Careful, love. You were the one who didn’t want things to be official yet, remember?” And right as he said it, I could hear two of the female teachers pass our window, chatting about something. Luckily the curtains had been closed all day, because if it would have been otherwise, they would have seen the predicable scene I was caught in.

Dipping down again, his fingers and tongue kept working me relentlessly, finally pushing me over the edge. I lunged forward, as much as I could against his strong frame. My orgasm hitting me like a strong wave, pulling me deeper into the ocean. I let out a muffled cry, shaking uncontrollably in his arms. But Carlisle wasn’t finished with me. Coming up with his head, he licked my remains from his lips, wiping the rest of it on his shirt. His hand still playing with my pussy, he pinned me down against the mattress, kissing me hungrily. He tasted like a mix of my slick, blood and his overwhelming scent, turning my bones into a puddle in his hands. I attempted to catch my breath, which was hard, when Carlisle definitely wasn’t set on showing any mercy. Processing what just happened, I clung to his body.

Carlisle Cullen may be the calm collected gentleman for everyone else, but in the bedroom, he was as filthy as one can get. The difference only I got to see, making me melt into his arms even more.

His hands were roaming over my body, making me squirm under his cold touch. I felt the heat rise in my core again, my body calling out for him. “Please…” I whimpered, hooking my legs around his waist, pulling him in. “So needy.” He mused, kissing his way down to my breasts. Him taking a hard nipple in his mouth, had me jolt in blissful pleasure. Desperately for more, I tugged on the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He understood what I wanted, standing up from the bed in one smooth motion. Then he was back on me again, his cold skin pressing against my hot body.

I could feel his hard cock rubbing against my core, twitching in anticipation. He guided his hard member into me, easing his way in slowly, but I was tighter than usual, another wave of cramps hitting me right when he entered me. I knew he could feel it, by the way he cursed under his breath. He stopped mid movement, jaw clenched, but his eyes showing me how much he cared for me. Waiting for me to give my okay. After a while I nodded, allowing him to fully bottom me out and when he did something between a moan and a painful hiss left my mouth.

“I am sorry, love.” He apologized, pulling back, but I kept him in place with my hands on my shoulder. “Its not you. I am cramping.” I let out, tensing up at the sudden pain shooting through me. “Just be careful.”

“Always.” Carlisle started to move slowly, distracting me from any pain with kissing me until my head spun. It didn’t take long for him to have me mewling his name again, eyes rolling back in my head. I held onto his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his waist giving him a better angle to fuck me.

He set a deep slow pace full on set to pleasure me as much and long as possible. I could feel how my walls started to accommodate him more, his cock soothing the cramps with every move. I hummed in pleasure, sinking into the pillows even more. “You feel so good. ‘S so good.” I mewled, not really caring how audible my words were. But his vampire hearing still enabling him to understand me.

“Let go, love. I got you. You are safe.” His words were water on a hot stone, instantly dissolving into steam clouding my mind. My limps were tingling, the knot in my stomach growing bigger and bigger every second, my brain completely short circuited, purely filled with his presence and the feeling of his delicate fingers, playing with my breast.

I barely processed, how he hovered over me, his full bodyweight supported with his left elbow, lips kissing every inch of my body. I was in heaven right now fucked by a literal god. And maybe him completely having me cock drunk in seconds was what got me to let out the most guttural moan I ever produced: “Daddy.”

It took me a few seconds to comprehend what just happened, but as soon as the realization fought its way through my fogged brain, I clasped a hand in front of my mouth. But Carlisle didn’t seem to mind my slip up one bit. Quite the opposite. He let out a low growl, nudging me with his nose. “That’s what I am to you? Your daddy? Fucking you so good you stop thinking properly, hm?” I just blankly stared at him, caught totally off guard by his shamelessness. “Is that what you want from me? Be my little girl, I take care off?” Shifting his weight, so he was now hovering over me with both arms pushing him upwards, he was now towering over me, his thrusts not even faltering one second. “Say it again, baby girl. Let everyone know who you belong to.”

“Daddy.” I moaned again, when he hit a particularly deep spot inside of me, pushing all the air out of my lungs. He smiled at me, leaning back on his ankles, while simultaneously raising my hips to fuck me deeper into the mattress. “Such a good little girl, you are. Taking your daddy so well.” He praised me, not letting go of my eyes. “Keep your eyes open. I wanna see you, when you make a mess on my cock. Oh, and what a mess you will make.”

I ripped my eyes open again, not being able to resist the soft English drawl he let slip in that moment. I could feel how the knot in my stomach was about to pop, threatening to throw me into the ocean of pleasure. And by the way he smiled down on me, he knew. Knew from the way I shivered in his hands, twitching uncontrollably around his cock. “Go on. Don’t be afraid, my love. I wanna see those beautiful eyes roll back in your head, when you come. Wanna feel how good I fuck you.” He spurred me on, smiling cockily.

And as on cue, I came.

Hard.

Back arching from the bed, my eyes rolling back inside my head. My whole body shivering in pure bliss from my orgasm, lips hanging open in a silent scream. I never came so hard and fast. The difference between the still sensual deep pace he thrusted into me and the rough filthy things he said to me, making my head spin in confusion. But Carlisle was not finished praising me: “That’s it. Ride it out, love. You are doing so good. Looking so beautiful like this.” I could feel myself leak on his lap, causing his cock to now draw even more lush noises from my pussy.

“Carlisle!” I cried out, now in complete subspace. “I need more. Please, daddy.”

“More from what?” He teased, not once faltering in his moves, driving me up the wall. “Use your words, little girl. Tell me what exactly it is that you want from me.”

“Harder, daddy. I need it harder. Need to feel you, please.” I begged, hands reaching out for him, trying to pull him down, but he resisted and I could hear the smugness in his words: “You already feel me, love.”

I cried out in desperation. “More. Need to feel you everywhere, daddy.” Finally, Carlisle gave in to my pleading, but different than what I expected. He pulled back from me, causing me to whine at the sudden loss of contact, but he shushed me quickly. “Shh, its alright, baby girl.” Manhandling me onto my stomach he hiked up one leg, settling between my thighs once again. And as he entered this time, he pressed me down with his full body. Effectively caging me in between his hard frame and the soft mattress.

“Yes.” I whimpered, feeling him thrusting much deeper into me than before. “Don’t stop. You’re making me feel so good, daddy. So safe. Thank you.”

“Always, love. Everything for you.” He growled in my ear and I could hear this whole situation didn’t let him be as unaffected as he firstly led on. The way he was now going harder, pinning my hands down with his strong fingers showed me how much it strained on his self control.

“Its okey, you can let go.” I mewled, arching my back to take him in a deeper angle, but he just groaned. “No. I am not finished with you yet.” The pure determination and possessiveness in his voice striking my once again. I moaned his name, calling out for him, earning a soft bite on my shoulder. “Such a good little girl. Taking me so well.” Sneaking a hand around my hip, he pressed two fingers on my clit, sloppily rubbing circles on it. “I wanna cum with you. Feel you around my cock, when I breed you. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, daddy.” I cried out, muffling my voice in the pillows. Goosebumps started to spread all over my body, a hot fire burning deep in my core once again. I clenched around his cock, eagerly wanting to milk him, feel his seed fill me up. Even though I knew I couldn’t get pregnant, the though of him breeding me whenever he liked, set things inside of me free, that I didn’t know I had.

A second shiver ran down my spine, spurring him on to fuck me even harder. His fingers were now moving faster, more demanding to give me a third orgasm. I started to shake uncontrollably, an indication for him, I was close. “I got you. Cum for me, love.” Was all he needed to say, to push me over the edge a last time. I came, a shivering mess underneath him. Clamping down on his cock, a muffled cry on my lips.

“Good girl.” He growled and I could feel him twitch inside of me, shooting his cold seed deep into my core. Riding out our orgasm he littered my back with kisses, leaving hot bitemarks behind, careful not to make them too visible. I gasped for air, blindly bucking against his frame, signaling it was getting to much for me. Instantly he, pulled out of me, starting to cuddle me, until his coldness made me shiver.

“Lets get you cleaned up, love and ready for bed.”

#fem reader #smut #carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen smut #daddy’s babygirl

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lottiecrabie · 14 days

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bartender george blurb please i'm begging please please please u know who this is Asking

i will do crazy things for a bartender!george blurb before you leave us

bartender!george warriors are Lucky it’s my bff’s birthday and they’re one of yall🕺

shift drink has the usual suspects scattered across some tables, nursing a beer or a glass of wine. normally, you’d be sitting across veronica, advising her on her tinder swiping and laughing at adam’s poor attempts at avoiding participation in this mating ritual. you’d twirl a blue umbrella in your sex on the beach, and wince when a man showing off a fish would appear on veronica’s screen.

this time, you sit across george, his forearms on the bar showing off tatted skin and glinting silver rings, looking you directly in the eyes with that intense gaze of his, and not down the cleavage you’re purposefully trying to show off.

‘so?’ his grin teases at the corner of his lips. ‘opinions?’ his new cocktail idea resides in a tall glass in front of you, half downed and sticking to your lipgloss.

you hum, faking some sort of deep reflection, as though you haven’t started drinking for the first time merely six weeks ago. the entirety of your knowledge in cocktails start and end with whatever he decides to serve you. still, you say, ‘i like it. very flowery.’

‘it’s not too intense?’

‘not to me.’ then you smirk, cheeky. ‘but i’m a very intense girl.’

george snorts. ‘that so?’

you gape in faux offense. ‘you don’t believe me,’ you say, accusatory.

‘apologies, sweets, it’s just that you’re— you know.’ his hand— your eyes jump to those ringed fingers, long and rough— wave vaguely.

you arch an eyebrow. ‘what?’

‘well,’ he says, and his shiteating grin shows he’s not even a bit bashful in saying it, ‘a bit sheltered. y’know, daddy’s girl.’

a secret part of you tenses and melts at the words, slithering up the muscles of your legs. it hits to your core, where something shameful and hot grows. a bigger part of you feels the telltale signs of competitiveness buzz under your skin. you set your eyes on him with a challenge.

you down the remainder of your drink in one long mouthful, glad for the sugary taste of it drowning out the bitter vodka. you slam the glass back on the counter, jump off the stool and stare at george, absolute. ‘maybe i am. want to find out?’ george chokes on his own breath, and just that reaction could be enough.

you don’t wait for an answer, too afraid of losing your cool. you practically flee out of the dining room, walking down the hallway to the safety of the dry storage. you wait there a moment, back to the door, feigning not to be listening for the sound of his steps, not to be hoping. your heart slams in your chest. god, why did you do that? you’re so stupid—

the door cracks open and slams closed. you smile, spinning with bone-deep relief, with thrilling excitement. his eyes are dark and intense, staring with that uneasy way of undressing, unspooling, unmaking. he sees through your bones and you can tell he wants what’s underneath.

‘did you—‘

‘yes,’ you cut, eager to get to it. ‘what are you gonna do about it?’

‘depends. are you gonna be sweet for me, sweets?’

you cock your head, teasing, ‘gonna make me?’

george is on you in a second, lips catching yours as you crash against the nearest shelves. he pins you in place, hands flying to your waist, digging under your shirt. you barely have enough place to arch your back into them, to invite him in. he crushes you against his body, against the metal, while he steals and steals and steals from you. breath, moans, the letters of his name. licks them all up until you lose your head, then goes down your cheek, your jaw, your neck.

your shirt is off and your bra cups down before you’re aware of what’s going on, and now george’s head is bent to your breasts, sucking a nipple and teasing the other with his hand. your head bangs against a shelf with a guttural groan. ‘fuck, george.’

he hums, coming back up, though already busy with hiking your skirt up your thighs. ‘thought you were gonna be daddy’s girl?’ your cheeks heat when confronted with your previous bravado. ‘what?’ he pouts, a little mocking. ‘too intense?’

‘fuck me,’ is all you answer, his teasing having made you horribly wet and needy. you rake your nails through his short buzzcut.

he grips your thighs and picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. your ass half hangs off a shelf, another one digging into your back. you barely feel them, too busy with him unbuckling his belt. your core drips at the mere sight, needing him so thoroughly it threatens to make you crazy.

‘ask nicely.’ you shiver at the sound of his voice, authoritative and demanding. you grind your hips into his as best you can, though the angle is awkward and not enough to get you off.

‘please,’ you whisper. he gives you a look, unimpressed. ‘fuck, i—‘ you shake your head. his finger pushes your underwear aside and finds your clit, rubbing it as added argument. with a moan, your eyelashes flutter at him, playing a part. ‘i need you, daddy. i’ve been wet every time i see you. just thinking of you and i— oh!‘ george slams into you with a groan.

you cling onto his back, digging into the fabric of his shirt, trying to hold on as he bucks into you fast and wild. you cry in his shoulder, trying and failing to catch your breath, to get used to him.

his head falls to your neck, sucking and biting. you moan in his ear, something primal waking inside of you at the thought of him marking you. of being his. he licks his branding, whispering in your ear, ‘should’ve told me my little girl needed me. didn’t mean to leave her all wet every day.’

he raises you up higher, changing the angle until he hits a spot that has you gasping for air. you tremble under his fingers and they dig into your skin, keeping you in place, leaving new branding marks to revel in later. he’ll be everywhere on you, in you.

‘gonna take care of you,’ george promises. ‘gonna fuck you all dumb and drooling to make up for those times, baby.’

you pull his face closer, burying a moan into his parted lips. ‘make me your girl.’

he snorts. ‘i don’t have to.’ he grins, cheeky, ‘you already are.’ his mouth crashes against you. you lose sense of coherent thought.

george fucks you until you’re whining and babbling, stringing swear words and begs in-between equal amounts of georges and daddys. he relishes in all of them, kissing and groaning at them, muttering sweet promises into your skin, as if planting the seeds into your very pores.

‘come for me,’ george pants. ‘come for daddy.’ you’re putty in his hands, only held up by him and the shelf banging against the wall. ‘wanna see you fall apart on my cock. wanna feel you.’ he groans, a hand flying up and digging into your cheeks. ‘god, you’re so goddamn sweet.’

as if trying to make him right, you come between two moans, shaking and crying for him. still, the pleasure somehow takes you by surprise, and you’re knocked off axis just by the sheer intensity of it.

george follows right after you, yelling your name as he spills inside of you, still buried so deep you have to assume he’s just fiending for another way to mark you.

you stay there as you catch your breath. finally, he slip out of you, letting your underwear fall back in place to keep his cum from running down your legs. he kisses your cheek, then pulls your skirt down and your bra cups up.

‘did so well for me, sweets,’ he coos. ‘such a good girl for daddy.’ you preen under his words, grinning up at him. ‘now let’s get you home so i can keep my promises.’

‘promises?’ you gasp, head flashing with filthy fantasies.

his smirk is dangerous. ‘don’t think for a moment i’m done with you.’

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY ILY #ask #blurb #bartender!au #george daniel x reader #george daniel smut #smut

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whimsiquix · 2 months

Text

Quick Fic: Saints

TOW Deva tries to drown his sorrows, Varadha looks bomb in eyeliner and there's no actual alcohol involved cause they're both losers. [2017]

“What are you drinking?”

Deva startles knocking over his glass instantly.

Varadha just raises an unimpressed brow before indicating toward the bartender, turning away for a moment to let Deva look.

“Nothing major.” Deva says, his throat dry as a dessert.

Varadha shrugs. “I figured you hadn’t developed taste in the time we’ve been apart.”

“I still like you do I not?”

“Yes, it is pretty tasteless to like someone who doesn’t like you back. What’s that like?”

“Like a live-wire through my blood every time I look at him.”

He turns away from the bartable to face Varadha. Varadha loved having the upper hand but he’s never managed to be so much as coherent when Deva got in his space. It’s a superpower Deva has always used liberally. He curls a palm around Varadha’s thigh, yanking him closer by it.

Varadha, predictably shivers. Swallows.

“You stopped the seal.” His voice is low and throaty.

Deva presses his face closer to Varadha, grazing his lips over the arrogant curve of his neck. “There was a girlfriend involved. Not that you’d know what that’s like.”

“Girlfriend? And here you are humping my leg. Not very good is she?”

“Very boring.” Deva promises, pressing a sweet kiss to Varadha’s collarbone. “Has a ridiculous foreign accent, makes me ears bleed.”

Varadha snorts, curving his neck away to give Deva more access. “I didn’t come here to make out with you.” He says belying his actions. Deva huffs incredulously.

Varadha turns around to face him. “Why did you stop my seal? I’ll have to kill you now. What a hassle.”

“Hang until death? Boring. So many other ways for you to kill me. You can take off your clothes and get on your knees for starters.”

Varadha laughs. “Darling the day I get on my knees for you will be your funeral.”

Deva pulls Varadha up to his height by the silver coils wrapped around his neck, “You’ll mourn me?” He murmurs against his lips.

“Everyday for the rest of my life.”

Deva kisses him then and as always Varadha falls into him, sweet and soft in his arms. It’s easy to tongue at his jaw, run his thumb worshipfully over the delicate fan of his lashes and the play of the club lights on his features. ‘You’re so beautiful it makes me ache’ he wants to say. Swallows the words down for all they feel like thorns down his throat. “I’ll never fight you. Your judgement is absolute.” He promises instead.

Varadha blinks at him, always, always caught off guard by Deva’s devotion even though he really shouldn’t be. A moment later, he smiles, a desperately sad thing that makes Deva hurt to his bones even as he tugs at Deva’s curls, a lost look in his eyes that Deva hates to see.

Abruptly, Varadha stands up, as though ashamed of his own vulnerability. He turns away from Deva, the sheer little number he's wearing leaving little to imagination. “You should work on your own accent.” is all he says before breaking through the throngs of milling people and disappearing into the crowd.

In Deva’s pocket, the familiar crinkle of a flight ticket for himself, mother and now Aadhya out of the country in Kansaar Kartha’s own private jet. As is customary, Deva tears them up and throws them into his beer jug.

#devaratha raisaar #varadeva #varadharaja mannar #salaar #Ten minute fic cause I was bored at the gym #UneditedTM

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creepzkilla · 10 months

Note

Do you have any dark Jeff the Killer headcanons? I'm going through Jeff brainrot right now

೫˚∗:↳˳⸙;; ❝ GENERAL J.T.K HC’Sᵕ̈ ೫˚∗

★Tumblr relies on reposting, please repost my work.★

tw.warning—-hard drug mentions, self harm, knife mention, blood mention

A/N. i hope this suffices! for general HC’s i don’t typically do a bonus drabble, but if u guys want a bonus drabble lmk!

He does hard drugs. He does coke on regular ngl. Hes a fucking feind for them. Every drug in the book. , benzos, adderall,, morphine, MDMA, heroin, you name it, he's done it. He particularly steals medicinal drugs from Ej, since you know, he's a "doctor". and he has a cocaine nail… #coke addict!

Sorry, Jeff-Girlies, but his face is fucked up. Like 3rd degree burns on. like freddy kruger or Deadpool. The left side of his face is particularly fucked up, with deep burns that burned tissue...Almost like a leather material. on his right side its kinda normal with a few burns here and there. but the right side of his face is mostly preserved, and my he is pretty good looking on that side.

He orders prostitutes-- then kills them after they're finished. he usually stays at dingy hotels with mold growing everywhere and barely anyone there. he brings the woman back to his room and then kills her after he finishes--only after he finishes, not her. usually dumps her body in the bathtub, leaving them to rot until the next person finds em.

Jeff always has eye drops on him since his eyelashes were burnt off. his eyes always get really dry and he has to constantly use eye drops. like he could chase a target and he then suddenly his eys get really dry. this mf will stop chasing them and stop and put his eye drops in before tracking them down.

He really likes dragging the knife across his skin, watching it draw blood, only for it to heal. he really likes experimenting to see how far he can go to see if he will heal. burned alive, drowned, suffocation, decapitated, knifed, bullet to the heart-- he's done it all, and he's healed every time.

His hair is really matted and patchy. Its not soft or anything it is really fucking dead and fried. his hair is practically all dead ends….on the side of his burns he practically has no hair on that side since it was burned off… on the side where his face is practically intact, his hair is full, but extremely fried.

He’s a sick fuck. He always executes the targets in the most fucked up tormented ways he can think of. He also loves the chase. Jeff will putrposely act like they got away, for only to appear right behind them and end them. He loves to get creative with the deaths too. Experimenting !

His favourite way of execution is letting them bleed out. specifically cutting there mouths so it’s into a smile like him, except it cuts into there cheek bones, breaking the skin completely. And cutting of their eyelids! now they are just like him!!! so beautiful!

insanity level: 8-9/10

#creepypasta #—*. * ·creepzytalks #creepypasta art #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta fanart #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasts x reader #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer #creepypasta fandom #smut #creepypasta jtk #jtk x reader #jtk headcanons #jtk fanart

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fetch-me-penguins · 16 days

Text

i want to live (Astarion x VampireSpawn! Tav)

Every minute that he holds on without loosing it, is a minute closer to dawn. A minute closer to whatever end this may have. The only thing a vampire can feel is hunger, people say. Gods, he wishes it was true. or Cazador takes Tav.

An angsty take on the premise of Cazador kidnapping Tav to replace a dead spawn on the Ascension ritual.

Read it on AO3

CHPTR 1 (you're here) | CHPTR 2 | CHPTR 3 | CHPTR 4

Out of all the places where they have camped so far, a Guild safehouse was not the one he expected to have the most spectacular view of them all.

At one of the highest points of the Lower City, in the courtyard of a seemingly abandoned summer house, Astarion has an unobstructed view of the sun meeting the sea as it sets in a show of blood orange rays and heavy purple clouds. A gentle wind, running through the trees and the overgrown wild lawn at the courtyard where they have set their camp, the heavy stench of the city getting lost between the blooming flowers and aromatic shrubbery.

He can hear a bellowing bard on a tavern a few properties down, the gliding sound of a sharpening stone against metal some place across the firepit, leaves rustling in the wind, and the owlbear’s claws as he stalks pigeons from behind the dry fountain at the entrance of the courtyard.

It is a beautiful evening at a peaceful camp, and he is indifferent to it all.

Even though he knows in his bones that something is missing, he can’t find it in himself to care.

Such is the nature of the Calm Emotions spell, apparently.

His mind is molasses, stuck on trying to separate his senses from his thoughts despite the throbbing migraine he has been nursing for an eternity, it feels like.

He can’t remember when or what was the last thing he drank, or how many hours he’s been awake. As far as he knows, the log where he sits is the only place where he exists. The only place where he is real and thinks.

There’s a wide pot in front of him, filled with a dark liquid and strange jutting shapes that resemble fabric.

He stares. He is almost sure it’s dye.

Puzzling.

Did he need something dyed? Is the clothing even his? How long has he been sitting here? He can vaguely remember seeing the high noon sun reflected on the surface of the dark water as it steamed and reeked, but surely it hasn’t been that long?

The sun sinks lower, showing off to no one.

The owlbear trips and falls with a thump and a whine, the pigeons fly away in a flurry of loud flapping and cooing. They settle on the roof. The sharpening stone glides. The bard is off pitch. The wind races.

He is cold. His hands and forearms are stained a faint hue of indigo. Like a drow.

They don’t feel his. If he flexes the fingers, they seem to move on a delay. Heavy, clunky.

His body is here, but his will is… somewhere else.

The untethered feeling should be nauseating in its familiarity, but it feels like nothing instead. Jarring, in a detached way his empty brain can’t begin to piece together. A pot of ink poured over a letter to hide whatever secrets it used to hold.

Just like the pounding headache, he hasn’t been able to get rid of the stone slab over his chest, a deep feeling of wrongness that he can’t quite place.

He searches for an anchor, something beyond the log that may make sense and he follows the sound of the sharpening stone.

It’s Karlach, sitting on a crate and sharpening her axe with minute care across the firepit. The orange glow of the sky reflects on the blade, casting light over her red rimmed eyes and a deep frown on her face. The mirror shine of her weapon stirs something in Astarion, a visceral urge to take his own blades and run…somewhere.

The urge fades as soon as it comes, drowned by another wave of numbness that he attempts to resist to no avail. The longer he tries to hold on to the memory of his daggers, the greater the pain grows, snaking beneath his eyes and into his teeth. It makes his forehead feel like it’s about to burst open until he surrenders to it, breathing shallow and bending over the tub.

He is cold. Hungry. And so gods damned tired he can’t even begin to think why, out of all the people in their bloody camp, he was the one given dyeing duty.

A man clears his throat right beside him, and Astarion can’t even bring himself to even blink as he meets Gale’s pitiful attempt at a warm smile.

“Time to take them out, I gather?” he says, gently placing an empty wooden tub at his feet.

He stares at the wizard’s face, the dark purple circles under his eyes and the straining at the corners of his mouth, his pale, dry skin.

He knows he is under a spell. He knows that this wizard is the one holding it over him. And yet, he feels nothing but a faint whisper of annoyance

Puzzling indeed.

Gale’s brows furrow slightly at the silence, and the fog over Astarion’s brain rises and swells. He fights it, trying not to drown in the void again. A throb pierces his temples, a familiar presence scratching and throwing itself with all of its might against the rock solid walls surrounding the numbness and confusion. His will, fighting the spell with almost rabid desperation.

Gale’s strained smile fades, and his eyes sharpen. The fog thickens and Astarion is pretty sure it’s going to split open his head and make him crack his teeth.

“Stop that” he snarls, his lips curling back, barely hearing the sharpening stone stop.

Gale doesn’t step back when Astarion closes in on his space, filling his lungs with the acrid smell of the wizard’s blood, the pain of his own hunger and the raging migraine the only thing standing against the muck in his head.

It’s Gale’s turn to stand still and stare.

“Astarion,” he starts, voice level but not moving an inch, “We agreed to this, remember? You told me yesterday evening to hold the spell until we could set out.”

He can’t remember, and he can’t even be alarmed at the fact that he can’t remember. He can only only puzzle over the here and now, everything else has been swallowed by the numbness.

Gale sighs and steps back, gazing over Astarion’s shoulder and slightly assenting to someone before his eyes return to his face. The fog barely recedes, but the pain dulls to a thud instead of a piercing lance. Astarion all but collapses back on the log, aching to claw at his own chest to force his lungs to take a full breath, to feel something other than the all consuming void.

The other man sinks down to one knee, his eyes searching Astarion’s face with something akin to pity.

Astarion knows himself. Which is why he knows that everything, even this, is amiss.

He should be sneering at the wizard and his pompous self righteousness, furious at the sorry state of his hands, fuming at the bloody bard with a piss poor pitch at the tavern next door, and he should be somewhere else. Somewhere important. The ache of not being there refuses to let him breathe and he can’t understand why, the answers locked behind the closed gates of his mind, tearing apart his temples every time he even thinks of getting them back.

He did this to himself, then. He gave another person his mind on a leash, and agreed to have disobedience punished with pain. And apparently, he made the choice at some point, to let his mind waddle in the muck instead of facing whatever it is that has everyone acting out of sorts. Specially himself.

He must have lost it pretty badly, to have turned to the fucking wizard for help.

Gale settles on the ground and moves the empty tub closer, pulling his long sleeves back and reaching for one of the pieces of fabric closest to the surface. Astarion follows his motions, reaching into the dark water and pulling on a piece of linen, some sort of sleeve now dyed a deep midnight blue.

Gale sighs again and he clears his throat, apparently intending to say something, when a shooting vine bursts from one of the overgrown garden plots, raining down a flurry of roots, clover and the busted pieces of a wooden hatch door. Karlach runs towards the noise, axe in hand, when the muffled sound of Shadowheart’s battle cry is followed by the head of her morningstar, smashing open the rest of the hidden hatch.

Astarion can feel Gale’s concentration on the spell sway, as he gets up and nears the hole in the ground where Shadowheart now has emerged, dragging the tumbling body of a young woman with a burlap sack over her head.

“Don’t tell me that’s-” Gale begins to question, a hint of anger in his tone.

“Yes, she is.” Wyll answers, voice flat as he emerges from the ground, followed by Lae’zel and Jaheira, who watches the scene unfold with her hands on her hips as soon as she is out.

Astarion is about to start twisting the linen shirt in his hands when something makes him stop cold, a whiff of the girl’s scent piercing through the sea of numbness and rattling something inside his chest. Sour sweat, the Flaming Fist’s standard issue soap, traces of orange peel oil. And underneath the drool and bile soaked front of her shirt, wine. Heavily spiced and bitter.

The blood covering her is new, though. It hadn’t been there before, he muses as the headache spreads from his forehead to the back of his scalp.

Shadowheart all but hauls the girl towards the empty rooms surrounding the courtyard and kicks open one of the wooden doors, splintering the frame. She unceremoniously drops the girl on the ground, her skull hitting the floor with a loud crack, and exits the room without looking back, stomping in a beeline towards the water barrel.

The sun has already set behind the ocean, but the bright orange light reflecting on the clouds renders their little group’s gathering around the firepit in a hellish light. Wyll groans as he takes Karlach’s place on the crate, massaging the side of his neck with a grimace. Lae’zel has taken to sitting on a log, her eyes dully following Shadowheart’s pacing from the water barrel to her tent as she forcefully removes pieces of her armour and throws them to the ground. Gale approaches with branches and a couple of thin logs to start their fire for the evening.

Astarion can hear Jaheira talking to a couple of the Harpers guarding the roof, but his eyes follow the interest of his nose, to the darkened room where their new prisoner hasn’t moved. Her wrists are bound, but it seems hardly necessary; she is missing all her fingers, except for her left pinkie.

He doesn’t need the tadpole or his head entirely clear to realize that whatever the rest of his companions were up to during the day, it has not gone over well.

“Well?” Gale prompts, once the silence has stretched long enough.

Wyll stares into the fire and feeds it some small branches before answering, “She said she cannot spare the hands. Specially now that she has weeded out rats on her den. She is gathering whomever can hold a sword to hold together what she can of the city”

Gale’s face contorts in a sneer and the walls around Astarion’s mind tremble.

“Whomever? More orphans? Is that it?” he almost spits out.

Wyll stays silent, and after a beat he responds, strained.

“The Flaming Fist is scattered after my father’s brush with the Absolute, the Watch all but disappeared under Gortash. They have at most two weeks before the fight for the city begins. If I were in her place-” Wyll’s mismatched eyes don’t meet Gale’s when he scoffs. The walls get a few hairline cracks and Astarion can feel the weight over his chest getting heavier and heavier, a vice growing around his throat.

“You wouldn’t have done that. And would have stood by your word.” Gale insists, bitterness seeping further in his tone.

“Chk. Shut up, both of you.” Lae’zel hisses in their direction, “Focus your anger on something useful or stop wasting it.”

Silence fills the fire pit, and Gale seems to get a hold of his temper, the Calm Emotions spell gathering back its steadiness.

“After what we did for them. After what she did for Nine Finger’s, for so many years. I don’t-” Gale sighs, rubbing at his eyes.

“Nine Finger’s is not like either of you.” Jaheira says as she approaches on long strides. “Loyalty in the Guild does not come cheap, and we have earned it. If she’d had the means to pay it back and hold us in her debt, she wouldn’t have hesitated to use them.” She removes the cork to her waterskin and takes a long drink. “But she doesn’t have the means. And the fact it’s one of her most loyal assets is the one in that palace, well…” she lets the sentence wander off into the night, putting the cork back on the waterskin and staring pensively into the fire.

“It was a long shot anyway, but we had to try.” she says with finality, her keen eyes scanning every face across the fire.

The silence stretches as Shadowheart joins the pit, her scowl lessened by exhaustion. Astarion realizes that he is still holding the linen shirt in his hands, his fingers now wrinkled and stained a nearly black shade of blue. He drops it into the dye water once more, the splashing sound of it the only thing to accompany the crackling of the wood burning in the pit.

“What about her?” asks Karlach, nodding in the direction of the room where the girl still hasn’t moved an inch.

Wyll looks pointedly at Jaheira.

“A show of good faith from the Guild. They don’t claim her, or her actions.” she stops once more, staring straight into Astarion’s direction. “We may dispose of her, as we plea-”

“Excuse me?” Gale interrupts her, “Dispose of her? Is this what we are doing now? Are we going to take turns on chopping up the only finger she has left?!”

“Gale, please-” Wyll rises to his feet.

“I hold no love for that-that individual in there. But it’s clear as day, that she has been through enough.”

Jaheira’s face twists into a sneer, her eyes fixating on the flames that seem to grow taller.

“That individual invited spawn into our camp and took our friend, the woman she called sister, to her doom. She has worked against her own Guild, against the Gate, for months! You cannot fathom the damage she has done!”

“She almost succeeded in killing me, so I can gather some! But I won’t be her executioner. She didn’t need to walk on her own broken feet all the way here, just to end up in a gallow with a different view!”

Jaheira seems to grow larger in the whipping light of the fire, her cold stare turning slowly towards Gale.

“Do you need a list of what that bastard is doing to our friend in that palace, wizard? Can you stop thinking of yourself for a minute?”

Gale’s concentration snaps like a tree in a hurricane, and Astarion gets a taste of everything he has been holding back.

He is a pig for the slaughter, a bloody canal has split open his chest and cracked open his ribs, but his lungs are frozen, refusing to expand. The firepit tilts, his vision blurs in a red and black fog, the burning logs and heated voices turn into a senseless cacophony that rises endlessly. He heaves onto the floor, his brain tearing itself apart between running away into the sunset or darting into the streets of the Lower City, gutting everything that may cross his path on his way to rip apart Aurelia and Leon, for what they have dared to take from him. She is gone, she is gone, he took her screaming four days ago and he is waiting for Astarion to come willingly to the slaughterhouse, to present his neck for sacrifice a second time. The wine on the girl’s clothes is an Utterdark, a favourite of the Master; a sickeningly familiar mix of spices, forever intertwined in his brain with the scent of rotting blood, rat piss and spawn waste in the kennels. Nails dig into his scalp, a burning pain that instead of tether him as it should, sinks him further into the sea of despair. The wine had been the only whiff of a smell on his year inside the coffin, the Master pouring himself a glass over the stone lid, just to let him catch its scent mixed with blood already in the glass. He hears his screeching laugh, the rattling of the chain whip, his own molars breaking, broken bone grinding against raw nerves and vermin flesh. She is there, she is strapped onto the rack, the stones of the palace drinking in her precious blood. And he is here, loosing his fucking mind in front of his own companions.

It stops at once, just like it began.

He finds himself on his hands and knees, staring to the cobblestone floor in the courtyard of the camp. The heavy silence only interrupted by Gale’s quiet cursing and Astarion’s own ragged breathing.

His arms tremble and he is so dizzy that he lets himself flop down on his back, shadows at the edges of his vision creeping back and forth in time with the renewed thudding at the back of his brain. His throat is raw and his breath shallow, but slowly a few stars blur back into focus, alongside a tiefling’s worried face hovering over him.

“This is not about revenge, Jaheira” a male voice says. There’s a slow breath before an answer comes.

“That is not the reason why she is here.”

The tiefling is slow and deliberate on guiding Astarion by the shoulders, first to get up from the ground and then to sit down on a log close to the fire. He lets himself be steered, still too addled to feel any hint of disgust towards himself for it.

The fire is mesmerizing, a much better sight than Gale’s conflicted face as something seems to dawn on him, and Jaheira’s solemn expression when she readies to speak again.

“The truth has to be spoken. Hazel has most likely been turned by now. We need to plan accordingly. And for that, we need to talk. All of us.”

She walks closer and drops to a knee in front of Astarion, blocking his sight of the fire and the blurry silhouettes of their companions. Her aged face fills his vision, her eyes purposeful but not unkind.

“We need you here, Astarion, really here. You know the inside of his lair, the dirty tricks he may use. Any advantage we can get, we need it now. We have to move at dawn.”

He is still shaking mildly, phantom traces of whatever had been going through his mind before he found himself crawling on the floor still floating around the fog inside his brain. It is an instinct to avoid Jaheira’s searching stare, whatever part of his brain that actually understands what she is saying taking control.

Her brows furrow slightly before softening again, her face loosing some of the tension around her eyes and mouth. She almost seems to grow old in front of him.

“I know a thing or two about loosing people, my friend. But the day they took my husband from me…” her eyes get lost on some point over Astarion’s shoulder, her mouth forming a thin line before she returns her gaze to him, “I have not forgotten that pain. So know, that when I ask you to let the spell run its course and get yourself together, I am aware of what it means.”

The walls around his mind hold back most of it, but the taste of bile at the back of his throat is reminder enough of the full force of what is happening beyond the limits of the spell. He’s not just drowning in despair. He’s terrified.

“He will be waiting.” His voice is a broken, whispered thing.

“Yes.” Jaheira answers, holding his gaze without flinching. “But you are not alone.”

His eyes drift towards the fire at her back, where a log and some pieces of broken furniture have been fed to the fire. The far off bard hasn’t stopped singing, although there’s a distinctly nostalgic quality to his bellowing now.

The tune is familiar, tugging at the strings in his throat and pounding at the insides of his temples.

The girl’s blood sings to him from a few meters away, but the wine on her clothes stills him with an iron grip at the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t want to think about it.

The druid sighs, and after a moment of consideration, she leans in closer.

“You know to fear your former master. But right now, you need to bear your teeth through that fear; let it wash over you and believe that you will get to dwell on it once everything is said and done. If not for her, for yourself.” She whispers, quieter than the breeze running through the courtyard.

His body has been numb and foreign for days, like a sleeping limb that refuses to recover sensation. At some point in the last five minutes though, the walls have thinned. He can feel it now, distant but clear. The wind on his arms, and a rising sense of panic that clings to her every word.

“You get to try to get her back. You get a chance to put the spawn on the ground and rise as your own man, Astarion.” Her hand is warm as she grips onto his, her earnest eyes unblinking. “You get to try. So try.”

He can feel it creeping on his spine, wrapping itself around his ribs and deep inside his skull. The full force of the last four days looming on the horizon, a wave gaining height.

Jaheira waits and doesn’t let go of his stained hand. The wind howls through the trees, the fire crackles and whips into the darkened sky.

You are not alone, she said. He knows these words, they matter to him. They echo in his bones, they loosen his chest just enough.

He grips Jaheira’s hand in return and assents before letting go. He closes his eyes and feels the walls crumble all the way, the crest of despair standing still for a moment.

This time he has half a mind to turn around, before it drags him under.

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

He has no idea who the nonchalant performance is for any more, but at this point of the night he is way to exhausted to puzzle over anything.

Wyll, Karlach and Gale linger at the fire, spitting venom at Nine Fingers and her excuses, whilst Astarion wipes his hands of the grime from sharpening the last of the blades he’s settled on taking with him. He sneers at his hands, still dark blue and now smelling of steel shavings and polish. A cleric, a druid and a former Chosen of Mystra, bested by a bit of indigo dye.

He is not feeling optimistic about their chances.

Although, that may have more to do with the hunger burning a hole through his abdomen, rather than the actual state of affairs.

The spell may be lifted, and he may be able to take shallow breaths now, but its mostly because he has willed himself not to think about it, any of it.

There’s plenty to stew over anyway.

Like the fact that the pedantic vampire lord would surely choke on his wine if he knew that there existed a floor plan of his state on some courtyard in the Lower City, drawn by his own spawn with a piece of chalk. Crude marks for hidden entrances that Astarion knew like the back of his eyelids, traps that he’d been an unfortunate test subject for; and a short explanation, given in the flattest, most unconcerned voice he’d managed, of what intimately little he knew of Cazador’s magical preferences.

If Jaheira had been expecting more, she doesn’t show it. She merely nods and listens, even as Gale’s heart skips a beat at the mention of necromancy, and Karlach mutters a dejected “Of course” the moment he mentions Cazador’s misty form he’d used once, on a game of cat and mouse on the one night he’d dared to visit his own grave. Useless details they don’t get to know.

It may not be all that his former master can do, and he knows it well. But it is well past what Astarion could stomach to tell.

The metallic tang of polish clings to his skin with stubbornness, and the tavern next door has fallen silent a while ago. The wind rustles through the leaves above and he can tell with acute awareness, that the blood on the girl’s stumps has soaked through one of her bandages.

He clings to the pain in his gut, forcing himself to turn his head towards the fire instead of the alluring dark room. He is drawn to it, the way a fly aims for a rotting carcass on the street; and he feels the same disgust for that girl the way he does for the fly.

No one has mentioned her again. Not Wyll, who is strategically sitting down so he is giving his back to her, and not Jaheira, who marched off to the stairs the moment they could hear Minsc’s loud ramblings coming up the street.

If he focuses on the twisting pain at the maw of his stomach, he can’t think of the hole in his chest. If he tries, with all the might of his weakened senses, to hear the wretch’s rabbit heart pumping away, he can let the hunger eat him whole for a moment, and pretend that it is the only thing he has to worry about.

He is dizzy, the vision of his dry, splotchy hands blurring slightly, when he hears Minsc yelling just a few feet away from him.

“Astarion! Astarion, look!”

He barely has the time to lift his eyes before a longbow is placed in the very hands he’d been sneering at. He blinks several times, trying to focus on the thing. It gives off a faint, familiar glow.

“Wait. I’ve seen that thing somewhere.” Karlach wonders as she approaches.

“Ah yes! Minsc had forgotten, Karlach was there too when we pawned it off!”

That quip makes things fall into place. The Devil’s Fee. And what a fee it had been.

Gontr Mael is still one of the finest bows he has ever held. It had pained him to give it up, but they had needed to bypass the bloody diabolist as soon as possible to follow their idiot leader into the House of Hope.

Back then, even when things had been strained between them, he hadn’t hesitated to give up his most precious bow if it meant reaching her in time, even if he’d had such precious little time to enjoy its weight on his hand.

It had been so simple.

“Helsik gave it back?” he asks, in a slightly hoarse voice, as his hands find the spikes along the bow’s body and pluck at the tight string that binds both ends. As perfect as it had been then.

“A bit of persuasion and promises were needed, but not nearly as much as we had feared.” Halsin answers.

“Ha! Well, she still owes us nine thousand gold. She got so much of our stuff, and those gloves? Man, don’t get me started.” Karlach laments.

Astarion can nearly hear Halsin’s smile when he answers.

“In such case-”

“No way!”

He has a moment to feel a crumb Karlach’s joy as she takes the Hill Giant Guantlets from Halsin and almost squeals, the deep frown in her forehead temporarily smoothed out.

He catches sight of Jaheira by his tent as she drops the quiver of arrows by the entrance. As she notices his attention, she points her face quietly towards the dark room.

He leaves all the muscle gushing over their newly reacquired weapons and he approaches the broken threshold of the room, where Jaheira meets him with crossed arms, staring at the rumpled figure on the floor.

“So this is what our village berserk has been up to for the day.” He comments, following one of the bow’s sharp spikes to its curved end.

“The knucklehead was not going to let Astele's reasoning go unchallenged, no matter how sound it may be.”

The girl’s breath is shallow, the skin of her neck bathed in sweat. The heart still beats, weak and fast, but still alive. Beckoning him into the dark, an itching in his bones to rip apart this bag of meat that clings stubbornly to life.

He grits his teeth, and tightens his hold on the bow. A bitter reunion, if there ever was one.

He has plenty of those in his near future.

“Nine Finger’s was about to get rid of her when we got to the Guildhall. She offered to let us do the honours.”

“So you dragged her all the way here.”

She stays silent, staring at the girl. She walked the whole passage from the Guild to the safehouse and she had every chance to end it. To drop the girl and let her die in the darkness of the tunnel instead of pushing her onto his hands. But not only she hadn’t done that, she had apparently talked Wyll into it too.

“Why?”

Jaheira takes her time to answer.

“They say that the only thing a vampire can feel is hunger. Nothing else touches them — not grief, or mercy. Or any sense of what is just.”

Out of all the things the master ever used against him, the hunger was the one that had kept him in the tightest leash. Eating had been as agonizing as being hungry, the compulsion that made him crawl on his belly for rats would never truly leave him, even if he had no master.

Only one thing would, the one thing he is trying his damn hardest not to think about.

“Well. There must be something to it, then.”

“Perhaps.” she hums and leans back from the creaky door frame, shifting her gaze towards him. “Maybe a sense of what is just escapes most of us, not only the undead.”

Silence falls over both of them. He is almost afraid of it now. He has no escape, torn between his hunger and the frightening amount of contempt he feels for the woman on the floor.

He could see Hazel all over her, when they met her at the Basilisk door. The plain appearance and mended uniform hiding the quick wit and the muddy secrets.

She had vouched for them at the entrance to the Guild. She had been funny, she had watched over Mol when she entered the Guildhall and Hazel had been so relieved to see her that she’d almost seemed to float. The girl’s eyes had lingered on him, as so many eyes did now that he could be seen by day, and Hazel had teased him about it. An olive branch to try and stay the rift that was tearing them apart.

She hadn’t been attracted to him, he knows it now. She had been zeroing in on her prize.

Her name was Meg. Hazel had called her nutmeg twice, truly smiling for the first time in days.

He may loathe her, but he knows he will not enjoy this one bit.

“Try to get some sleep, Astarion. We need you at your best.” Jaheira says as she leans in and takes the bow from his right hand, turning away towards the firepit and leaving him alone.

He goes into the room and swings the door closed, decidedly ignoring the dejected sigh Gale lets out.

Alone and in the dark, his dark vision reveals details of the room in shades of black and gray. The scent of the girls blood blooms and fills his lungs with mouth watering expectation. The richness of a healthy human, a sprinkle of bitter adrenaline, and the foulness of the Utterdark wine still on her clothes.

If he had been near enough to camp to smell the wine, he would have known that the girl was an envoy of Cazador, even if she herself had no idea who she worked for. But he hadn’t been there.

And none of them had known who took her, not until it was too late.

The heavy silence settles on his shoulders and at the bottom of his neck. He wonders if it was done on purpose, the wine spilling over her clothes the moment Cazador decided to reveal his hand in a way only Astarion would understand.

Knowing that it would make him remember who he truly was.

He could make her suffer, he ponders. Make whatever Nine Fingers had done look like mercy.

He could give her some semblance of dignity. Prop her up against a wall and be done with it.

Or, he could just give in. Surrender to the instinct already thrashing beneath his ribs.

He could go down under, give control of his body to the ghost of a predator living inside his head, go away for an instant and come back once it’s over, one last time.

It’s easy, really. He truly makes things harder for himself when he thinks.

His legs seem to move on string, kneeling besides her on the ground. His hands follow the lead, removing the burlap sack over the girl’s head. Her breathing is shallow and she cries weakly as his fingers grip onto dark hair to tilt her head back. Her neck is already marred by a dark, thick rope burn; the markings of a noose.

If her blood smelled as foully as the Moonrise drow’s had, maybe he would have an excuse for the full body shiver of disgust that makes him close his eyes and cower deeper inside his head. Her blood smells fine. They need this. He needs this.

Bear your teeth through it, let it wash over you, Jaheira had said, whilst Gale had sighed like if he was the one destined for the gallows.

They know why the girl is here. They know what he is doing in the dark. They know that only one walking corpse will leave the room.

He was told to dwell on it when everything is said and done. So he will.

He feels his back bend and his jaw opens wide.

His mouth fills and he swallows pull after pull of something warm and soothing. He sinks his fangs again, digging deeper between the tissue, and he drinks everything he can. He focuses on the warmth spreading to his fingers and the clearing of his head, the burning at the mouth of his stomach cooling down at last.

He does not want to heave onto the floor. He is not avoiding to touch her skin with his lips as much as possible. He is not considering pulling the burlap sack over her head again.

He is not thinking of running away.

He is not.

Astarion straightens up and stares at the cooling body on the ground. Even though she has lost some blood in the last few hours, his senses sharpen to a needle point once more, the aches around his body only a sign that he really needs to lie down.

Jaheira’s awful fiddle plays into the night. Gale seems to be roasting almonds in the fire.

Every minute that he holds on without loosing it, is a minute closer to dawn. A minute closer to whatever end this may have.

The only thing a vampire can feel is hunger, people say.

Gods, he wishes it was true.

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

The halfling behind the bar is the only soul in the Guildhall when their merry band makes their entrance. Astarion finds the lack of blood and innards pleasantly mundane, even if the smell is still atrocious.

As soon as the guard at Nine Fingers’ office lays eyes on them, she opens one of her doors and the Guildmaster’s voice emerges from inside. It doesn’t stop in whatever it is saying, not even as the guard signals in Thieves Cant to someone inside.

‘They’re here.’

Nine Fingers must be the one answering, because the guard looks back to them and motions towards the inside. Jaheira steps forward, and he is about to make his way to the bar with the rest of the party, when a quick whistle catches his attention back to the wooden door.

It’s the guard, making another familiar sign whilst holding his gaze.

‘You too.’

The scraping sound of chairs being opened and the heavy clang of weapons placed on the bar top accompany the slight dread that dawns on him as he approaches on quiet steps, focusing on whatever it is that Nine Fingers’ has been talking about this whole time.

“-I don’t give two shits if your wife is in labour Stefan! I want every bloody rat on this den exterminated by midnight. Don’t come back until it’s done.”

Jaheira seems intrigued as she approaches the door, dodging the unassuming young man that exits the office in a hurry.

The moment they enter the now familiar cavernous space, he can tell the situation is far different from their first meeting a couple of weeks ago. Nine Fingers is alone at her desk, dressed in leather armour even though it is close to midnight.

She may look composed, but the bulging vein on the right side of her forehead gives her away. The moment her eyes fall on him, her pulse quickens and a frown settles on her forehead.

“Where the hells have you been?! I’ve been trying to get a Sending to you for the last two fucking hours!” her eyes fix upon Jaheira as the older woman walks calmly to her desk, her voice rising slightly after the doors have been closed once more.

She is furious.

He shares the sentiment. Jaheira just seems tired.

“Apologies, Guildmaster. Bad reception at the Murder Tribunal.” the druid retorts, lowering herself on a chair without invitation. Astarion stays far from the desk, in what he can guess is the periphery of Nine Fingers’ field of vision. Just in case.

A beat of silence passes, as Nine Fingers pours a finger of whisky on a glass and pushes it towards Jaheira. She offers none to him.

He is over this conversation and it hasn't even begun. He wonders what even is he doing here.

“Got what you were looking for?” she asks, the vein at her forehead pulsing in the low light.

No, he thinks bitterly. He didn’t get what he had been looking for, because Hazel hadn’t ever been at the Temple of Bhaal.

Halsin had, but that was a given anyway. He even was unharmed and had been unconscious for most of everything, for all the good that did him.

But Hazel hadn’t been there. Not on the slab, not as decoration on the hallways or hiding between the cultists, as he’d dared to hope in a last bid to make the journey worth it. Orin hadn’t even known what they meant when they demanded she reveal her second captive.

The might have gotten rid of the last Chosen of the Dead Three and taken possession of her netherstone, but they hadn’t found their leader.

It had made sense back then, to think that the changeling had been the one to take her. He’d returned from his Minsc chaperoned diner excursion to a ravished camp, no Hazel and a letter written in blood, congratulating the party on killing Gortash.

It’s been a while since he has truly put his mind to try and understand anything that happens to them on a daily basis, and of course the one time he actually cares to follow the reasoning behind what their escapades, it has to fall apart.

At least he hadn’t been the only one dumbfounded at the Temple. Too bad Hazel hadn't been there to see Gale gape like a fish and be speechless for once.

“We did.” Jaheira responds. “A few errands to attend to now, before we move onto the brain and get this over with.”

The low light in the office may work to hide her from human eyes, but his darkvision reveals Nine Fingers’ face and the steady tick that pulls at her left bottom eyelid.

“A pity that your guiding shrub will miss all the action, after everything she did to get here.”

She must have guessed this was the way the conversation would go, because Jaheira merely blinks and stares at the woman across from her in silence. She hasn't touched the whisky glass.

“If you know something, you better spit it out Astele.”

“Of course I bloody well know something! I can’t believe you’ve kept this from me for the past three days, Jaheira. She’s Guild, she is ours too, for fuck’s sake.”

“She isn’t. Not any more.”

He doesn’t know why he says it. Maybe it’s the raising thirst gnawing at the bottom of his stomach, or perhaps it is the past three endless days that make him say out loud the thing that Hazel had only ever said to him through the tadpole. Or maybe it’s her tone. Her particular choice of words that remind him of his own former master.

Nine Fingers’ eyes snap from Jaheira to him, her face a mask of ice cold rage. This is the first time she has truly had him on her sight, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

“Think it’s that simple, Astarion? Leaving what we are behind? You better think again, because you past is catching up.”

Everything recedes. Nine Fingers’ racing pulse, Jaheira’s furrowed brow, even his own awareness of his name on her voice and the wrongness of it.

“What?”

“Your head is catching a pretty penny on the bounty hunter market these days. And yet, you’re still here. Bet you didn’t even notice the four hunters and the Shadow Thief that almost cashed in, did you?”

He thinks back to the last few weeks and can only think of one body out of place on the periphery of their errands at the Gate. But he can see Hazel’s dark circles grow purple and deep, taking guard more often and for longer, making her own tent and renting her own bed instead of joining him at his. He had assumed it had been because of their fallout after their increasingly bitter Ascension talks, but he’d only been partly right.

She had known.

“I warned her that you were trouble, that she should keep her distance.” Nine Fingers continues, holding him still with the weight of her accusatory glare.“Trust a thief in a hurry and a fool in love to run into the same wall twice.”

“I couldn't think of the kind of enemies you've made to have such an obscene bounty on your head, but now that the splashback of your shitshow has gotten me too, I can get an idea. Not many creatures in this city have to send a decoy first, to ask for permission to be let in.”

Whatever Jaheira says next gets overpowered by a shrill ringing in his ears. He barely gets to hear the name of Cazador Szarr leave Nine Fingers’ lips before he is pushing open her doors just to get away from the sound.

The empty Guildhall is still the same, his companions sprawled on the bar stools.

“Hey, Fangs! We got you some wine!” Karlach sing-songs, pointing at a glass in front of an empty chair.

He is paralysed at the threshold for a moment, his ribcage frozen mid breath.

“Astarion?” Wyll asks, getting up from his seat, “Are you alright?”

What now? What now that he has her? What now that she has been there for three days whilst they have been parading around and saving the world?

What now that she is dead?

“Slow down, what are you saying?” a voice beneath a sea of cotton asks, hazy silhouettes closing in on him.

His vision blurs. He can’t breathe. Where are his blades?

Hands reach over, gripping at his arms, his back. Growing whispers of something that sounds like his name but make no sense. No, she isn’t dead. What she is now, is much, much worse than that.

He has to go. Find anything to drink and then he will do something. Something other than doom her as he has been doing the past three days where he has play acted at being something that he is not.

See what happens when you leave your place, child?

A large red shadow looms over his vision, it reaches for him. The Master, come to take him where he stands and return him to his place. He is terrified. He wants to throw up. He wants to rip something apart. He wants to cry and beg to let him go. He wants to disappear.

Although you may try to deny it, what I made you had always been in you, son.

He reaches for the dagger at his hip.

A sudden bright light shines on his eyes and blinds him. A blanket of cold numbness cuts through the terror, making his vision clear and his hand relax. A metallic rattle echoes around the high vaulted ceilings of the empty Guildhall as he hears a blade falls to his feet.

Everything is quiet as colour and shape return slowly to his eyes.

Karlach holds a bleeding slash on her right palm, but her worried eyes don’t leave his face. Her blood drips onto the stone floor. Shadowheart is just beside her, her hands still emitting a faint yellow glow.

Gale makes his way from the edges of his vision, his hands raised. He looks remorseful. Astarion distantly wonders why.

“You’re under the Calm Emotions spell, Astarion. I’m… I’m sorry.”

His hands are too heavy to grasp at the dagger again, Gale’s words drip onto his brain one by one.

“We’ll figure this out, just—just hold on.”

He is cold.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion fandom #bg3 #bg3 tav #writers on tumblr #fanfic #first fanfic #please be nice

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katsukikitten · 2 years

Text

Synopsis: Summer is swiftly coming to a close and the only way you know how to cope is through drowning every sorrowful thought you have with a few white pills washed down with vodka at Chargebolt's lavish house parties. Bedding any cute soul that looks your way and the routine is getting monotonous, begging the universe for a change. And change comes in the form of burning ember eyes that sear into your skin. When you find out they belong to the notorious villain Dynamight you begin to question just how cruel fate could be.

Warnings: Blood, biting, scratching, smut, choking, spitting, diet pet play, throat fucking, 18+, major drug and alcohol use and themes, undertones of depression and yandere, NON CON/DRUGGING

A/N: just filthy smut written in an afternoon wc 4k

End of Summer Bash Collab Master List

The moon hung high in the sky, dancing in the ripples of the large in-ground pool, the mirror disrupted by the moving bodies in the water. Lightning bugs flickering as they blended in with the faerie lights overhead.

The usual symphony of crickets and cicadas that scream into the night is drowned out by the deep bass pouring out of the speakers. Loud enough to shake the glass of the windows when the beat pulses, trying desperately to keep up with the beating hearts of the crowd. Solo cups high in the air as they sway their bodies to the music, lost in endless drink and drugs. Air cool but far from cold as the smell of leaves drying lingers in between the vodka sprites and powdery white stuffed in noses.

Summer was dying.

And so were you.

Least it feels that way as you throw back another heavy handed drink only for the cute electric blonde to fill it right back up.

"Thirsty huh?" He shouts, passing your cup with your name scrawled on the front.

"Dying of it." You giggle back, giving him a wink as his smile turns devilish. Jumping right into the crowd, dancing and grinding on whoever was lucky enough to be behind you. Kissing whoever was in front of you as the summer cools on your skin.

You always spent August like this, the second the night dipped into cooler temperatures you dipped lower into the eves of your mind. Chasing the proverbial sun in the shape of a white rectangle pill. Swallowing all five letters whole. The men who passed them out to you like candy would smile like the two of you had just shared a well kept secret.

Like it turned them on, which sure spoke about the crowd you kept but who the fuck cares. You were young, here for a good time and hopefully not a long time.

Another year sets in summer for you and sadly your years are shorter than they are for others. Starting in early spring and stretching until summer could no longer keep its claws sunk deeply into early fall days.

Til those molten claws steamed and cooled into harden rock that was sure to freeze in the coming months.

Just like you did.

Frozen but not in time.

Never.

If anything it moved faster by the time you came to, realized just how much time was lost sitting by the window and watching the grass brown under harsh frost, the leaves turn to snow.

Born in winter but made for summer months.

The Gods were cruel weren't they?

Had a laugh when they made you, you who can only function for four months out of the year, five if you were lucky.

And just like a star you burned hotter when you realized you were dying.

Before the inevitable explosion that would force all of the heat out of your bones.

So burning through men, women, two pills and countless drinks was normal.

At least for you.

Any cute face that caught your attention got those half lidded eyes that seemed to seduce anyone. A beckoning of your finger and the siren call of your moan in their ear all night.

That'd be all they get though.

It's not unusual for you to feel eyes tracing your skin tight clothes. Black as you mourned the death of summer. Tight halter cropped top, fishnets a bit under your natural waist while black shorts hugged your thick hips and thighs. There were plenty of predators at house parties like this, teeming with men and women on the prowl for a good time and an even better fuck.

But nothing felt like the molten crimson gaze that raked down your skin as if he were committing you to memory. Even with your eyes closed you could feel him move around the room as he stalked you. It sent a jolt to your numb chest, a spasm that seemed to keep the creeping frost at bay.

Maybe he'd be your score of the night, not that you knew what his face looked like. Having only opened your eyes enough to make quick contact and by the time they opened again he was gone. Perched in another spot as if he were circling closer. Still you stayed where you were, uncaring if you were being hunted.

If you were prey, like a sitting duck in the wide open lake while a rifle was pointed at your back.

Let him pull the trigger if he wants to.

Someone has to put you out of your misery.

Suddenly smoking caramel wafts over you, a presence you cannot ignore pressed close you. Looming as it causes your throat to constrict but you keep your eyes closed and continue to dance.

Crushed solo cup in the air with all the others.

"Look so fuckin pathetic ya know." He growls in your ear, pressing your ass to his pelvis, "Sad in a crowd. Tragic."

"Hmmm?" A flirty lit, winding your hips into his growing hard on, "And how would you know huh? If I'm sad?"

"Been watching you," Rough tone and then his thumb comes and swipes at your cheek, "Tears are a dead give away."

It makes your hips stutter but like a true hunter he keeps you captured in his grasp. Hand keeping your hips glued to his as he guides them to the rhythm. When you turn to look at him, thinking maybe he's high, it's startling to see the stone sober sharp gaze that cuts you to your core.

When had you started to cry?

You don't have much time to ponder the question as he takes the flat of his tongue and swipes it up your cheek. Tasting the salty tears and the groan he lets out freezes you to your spot.

He felt otherworldly.

Most pros did, lurking around the parties Chargebolt held in hopes of sliding in between someone's thighs or lips. They needed ten times more the amount of pills, coke or vodka to feel anything. At least anything close to how plastered you were.

You were used to the rough possession that could come from Pro Heroes finally letting go but he hadn't had a drop or a gram. Eyes boring into yours as you try to rack your brain for where you've seen these poison bromine eyes before.

"Took ya two weeks to notice me." He glares down at you, "Not bad for a quirkless nobody."

His words cut deep, bone deep as they slash through your brittle ribs and rips the tender beating muscle beneath right open.

Fear tries to bubble up beneath all of the rectangle pills and clear burning liquid you used to wash them down but instead it morphs. Trapped in your guts as it turns hot.

Molten, like you want to be as it melts and pools between your thighs.

"You like being stalked though, don't you?" He chuckles and it sounds sinful and deadly, "Ya know how many times you've stopped me from ending one of these shit parties early?"

You shake your head and he presses his cheek to yours, making you look around the amassed bodies that bump, grind and long for something more than what they've got.

Drowning out those dark thoughts and impulses that lingered a little too closely to the service.

Seems like the man behind you didn't have to worry about that. Seems like he indulged them more than others. His fingers are hot on your cheeks.

"They should thank you really. Be kissing yer fuckin shoes." Suddenly he bites you harshly at the apex where your shoulder and throat meet. You let out a yelp but no one can hear you over the music or too riddled with stimulates or downers to care.

It hurts, it really fucking hurts how harshly he digs his pearly whites into your skin, when he pulls away there is blood coating his teeth. He makes a show of running his tongue over them and you feel his cock twitch against your ass.

"Thirteen." That smokey caramel smell grows rapidly in your nose pairing quickly with the heat at your rib. It hurts and you furrow your brow as you look at him, "Don't worry. I ain't gonna burn ya. Yet."

"I still wanna fuckin play." He reaches into his pocket and in his large palm is a small pill, "Ya like these don't ya?"

His expression sours as he grits his teeth when you don't respond, "Don't try to fucking lie."

You nod, tryin to bring back your usual flirty tone "Dying for it."

He pauses when he hears that, makes a nasty, sadistic smirk curl on his lips before he pops the pill into his mouth holding it between his teeth so you can read those familiar five letters embedded in the chalky rectangle. His tongue swirls over it pulling it into his mouth and when you think he'll swallow he leans towards you. Burning your exposed skin just enough you yelp and he can slip his tongue into your mouth. As he does you taste the familiar coating of the pill dissolving. He holds your throat now, tightly squeezing as he silently tells you to swallow.

Shit, shit, shit, this was going way over your normal dosage. In a matter of minutes the room was going to be spinning at the speed of the Earth on its axis and you'd be powerless to stop it.

To keep up with the wolfish man behind you.

"Come on pretty girl. I know you can handle it." He delights in the fact that he knows you can't. If he's been watching you as closely as he says he has then he would know your limits by now. You always stayed at the fringe of black out, never nose diving right into it.

At least not in the last few years.

It hits you as the vodka blurs your vision for just a minute, just exactly who you're standing next to.

The infamous Dynamight, the one who's blown up government buildings and hero's heads on live streams.

Your eyes flutter, another tear slipping down your cheek that he laps up.

Ironic isn't it? How you begged for an actually exciting party tonight and the universe was giving you exactly what you wanted.

"'M getting bored." He says after a few moments as he smiles, watching Deku come in through the back patio and Redriot shouting directions to Shoto on how to get here, "Sounds like we've got time to kill."

He presses you even harder into his erection, giving a lazy rut of his hips.

"Seen you give this pussy away like it's nothin. Bet it's special, huh? You never fuck the same person twice." He looks over the faces you've seen before too, "You must be like me, huh? Get bored easy?"

When you don't react he smiles, leaning down to look directly into your eyes as he tilts his head.

"Or you're too much aren'tchya? They can't handle this can they?" His voice is so fucking rough and it matches how harshly he cups your pussy. Another yelp and he shudders, "Lead the fuckin way."

He steps away from you but keeps one strong hand on your skin, sliding down your arm and lacing into your fingers. His palm against yours is electric, sending you down an even more confused spiral. Thoughts clouded with what he could do to you now, that fear ebbing away again.

Guiding him to the bedroom upstairs you always used, Chargebolt's because he had the best bed and when your bag for the night wasn't good enough Kaminari was a good fuck to wake up to.

The only man you've fucked more than once because he knew how to send a jolt of his quirk straight from his finger to your clit.

And Dynamight already proved his quirk control with how he burned away parts of your shorts but not your skin or hell even your fishnet tights.

The second the door closes he locks it, lifting you up by your waist and tossing you onto the bed. Leaning in to bite the other side of your neck harshly. It burns, but with what's in your system it feels more like the sun kissing at your skin in warning that you'll burn if you stay paralized in its bliss.

"Gotta give my baby a matching set." He says as he pulls away, running his tongue over his bloody teeth again shivering, "Fuck ya are a dirty slut huh?"

His mood switches again from playful to deadly, reminding you of an agitated lion, he bares his teeth grabbing your throat so harshly you think you'll pass out.

"I don't like a silent dinner. Speak."

"Woof." It's sarcastic and choked under his crushing grip but it makes his eyes widen. Makes him let up and laugh genuinely.

"Good girl." He growls, grabbing onto your shorts roughly at your hips and letting his quirk go. Little explosions burn away the thick denim and the warmth makes your cunt leak. When he gets to the fishnets he rips with ease and notices you don't have anything covering your pretty pussy.

You watch the lust morph on his face as he takes a slow blink like he can't believe it and the power rush it gives you is better than any high you'd had in a long time.

His dark eyes flicker up to meet yours and that sadistic smile is back.

"Fuckin knew it." He shoves two warm fingers into your cunt just to hear you yelp again. He loves the sound, loves the surprise and fear that rushes past your vocal cords. He finds that spongy spot in you with ease. As if he's explored you before. He keeps the pressure constant as he pumps his fingers in and out of you harshly. Reaching up to rip the front of your shirt to free your bouncing tits. The sight makes him growl as he ruts into the bed for relief. Leaning over, mouth hovering over your throbbing clit.

"Fuckin speak."

"Woof." Its whiny this time and he laughs into your cunt before he latches his mouth onto your needy sex and sucks harshly. Your fingers dig into his hair and scratch at his scalp, "Dynamight"

You slur his name and he humps the bed again. You're so close already, panting as your head swims unbelievably. Throat dry from gasping to catch your breath and suddenly you snap. Yelling loudly as he pulls two from you so quickly you can hardly think. He watches you squirm under him with delight and you cum again.

"S too much." You try pushing his head from between your legs as he continues to suck and pump into your cunt, easily he throws your legs wide open, coming off of your heat with a lewd pop.

"I say when it's too much." He growls, "Keep cummin on my tongue. You're fuckin delicious."

He withdrawals his fingers just to shove his fat tongue into your tight cunt, thumb swiping against your abused clit. You keen and cum harshly when he groans, legs shaking.

He climbs up you, his muscular body dwarfing yours before his giant hand finds your cheek. Letting his thumb slide over your lips before he grabs your chin roughly, forcing your mouth open as he presses the pad onto the wet muscle harshly.

He groans at the sight of your tongue curling around his digit, his throat bobbing as he gathers the sweet taste of your cum to mix with his saliva. Poetic in his twisted sense, how the two of you melded together so seamlessly, he needed you to know that.

To taste it on your own, not just the pleasure from his angel cunt but what it was like with a piece of him mixed in. Staring up at him as he hovers over you with his imposing size. Bromine eyes glow as his tongue peeks over his bottom lip slowly. The thick liquid drips from the tip before he spits it into your pretty throat.

It's salty, sweet as it dances on your tongue and makes you wither beneath him. He forced your plush lips shut, palm around your tender throat like a steel vice.

His eyes burn into yours with a silent command that you can easily read in his blown pupils. He feels your adam's apple move as you so obediently swallow.

Fuck you were so bad.

"Ya want this cock? Want me ta ruin fuckin for you?" He hums, after he swirled his tongue around your mouth, feeling how you swallow under his palm.

"Yes, Dynamight." You buck your hips into his and grind against the dark fabric of his pants. He groans, smiling down at you. At how perfect you looked already and how much better you'd look totally fucked out.

"Bakugou." He corrects and you nod, swallowing before you taste his name for yourself.

"Bakugou." You moan, "Please ruin me."

He takes pause and you say it again, thinking he didn't like how it sounded the first time.

And then again when he still doesn't move.

"Please, please Bakugou ruin me." You're twisting the sheets with how you fist them and move your feet, "Dying for it."

"Ya just might" He purrs, "When I'm through with ya, yer not gonna be able to make this pussy cream without me."

Removing his shirt and shoving his pants and boxers down, the grenades in the pockets of the black cargo pants jingle from the motion. He takes his cock and roughly rubs it through your sticky folds until it catches on your entrance for the third time, forcing his way into you in one thrust. Your sharp nails latch at his back, bringing deep starches into the toned skin.

"Harder." He hisses and you comply, even leaning up as best as you can while he moves the whole bed with his force. Sinking your teeth into his skin. He howls and the sound makes you cum as metallic copper explodes on your tongue. You give a rough suck to pull more into your mouth and he gently nudges your face away with his cheek. Voice different than usual, almost softer but just for a moment.

"Careful, my quirk makes my blood dangerous." He smiles at you, loves to see a part of him in your mouth. He gasps beneath him, panting as you run your tongue over your teeth like had before. Another genuine laugh

"Ya trying to fuckin make me fall in love haaaah?" He speeds up, feeling you clenching him so hard he could cum. He's breaking rules already. Stopping his plans way too many times just because you caught his eye. Time and time again he said he should just blow the house sky high, you inside or not. Because when had he fucking cared before?

But as your cunt keeps pulling him back in, begging for him to stay it's hard for him to think straight. It's not as if he planned to keep a souvenir from this endevor before he stalked you around Denki's house but now?

Now he just might.

"Fuck." He groans, pressing your legs closer to your chest, watching you stare up at him as if he were a God, his name thick on your tongue. Body limp as you cream his cock over and over, taking what the loving God gives.

His stomach clenches tightly with the urge to cum but he can't allow himself, not yet. Not when he wants to use that pretty mouth of yours as his personal cock sleeve. Abruptly he pulls out and when you whine in protest he smiles.

"I'm feeling generous, wanna give you another taste of my pussy." He leans away from you, pulling your ankles to yank you down the bed so he can come and kneel behind your head.

"Don't ya want another taste, pretty girl?" He taunts and that pill is kicking in as you blink up at him so slowly. Tongue lolling out of your lips to show how big your mouth could get. His cock jumps and eyes roll in his head.

You were going to be the death of him.

He takes his blunt nails and scratches against your scalp, making sure you won't totally pass out on him, even tests your consciousness by squeezing your throat gently and when your eyes blow wide like you need more he smirks.

Sliding in slowly until he knows his cock is at the back of your throat, giving an experimental thrust to see if he can feel his cock in your throat. When he can he thinks he's gonna cum when you swallow around him.

"Taste good don't ya?" You hum your affirmation around him before he ruts his hips. Low and slow, his fat sac tightening already.

"Gonna explode in this pretty mouth." Squeezing again and panting as he starts to chase his own high pulling out just enough he has to stroke part of himself as he cums on your tongue.

It tastes good, addictive as the spicy sweet heat of his cum comes in delicious spurts. Closing your mouth but he grabs your throat roughly before you can swallow. Tapping his hand with your finger he lets go as you try to get up.

"Lemme see." He growls and you open your mouth. Tongue twitching as the cum and extra saliva drips from the tip.

"Fuck. Wish I had my phone." Gently he closes your mouth, "Swallow."

You make a show of it, body weak now that he's cum, whining as you lean towards him. Nose pressed into the crook of his throat.

"Ya can't be here any longer." He warns, voice that weird soft tone again and you pout. Eyes fluttering from the weight of all the drink and pills, "Gonna end badly if you stay while I let loose."

But it didn't matter, you were already softly snoring against his tacky skin. He sucks his teeth, what did it matter if he did leave you here anyway.

He thinks he'll abandon you until he hears the window shaking bass come back to the forefront of his thoughts. He had time, had plenty of time. Besides the longer the party went on the more they'd smoke, drink, snort and fuck. The more vulnerable these assholes would be.

And the easier it would be to blow up the whole fucking house of extras, sending them straight to hell.

His lips curl into a manic smile at the thought and then the fan of your breath brings him to the here and now.

He gently settles the two of you down into a lying position, pulling the luxury blanket over the two of you. As he sighs out, what was he gonna do with the adrenaline rush he'd have after he killed all these people?

Fucking his fist couldn't be an option anymore now could it?

The onset silence startles you awake, only the sound of the cicadas echoes through the quiet house. The clock reads 3:33am in bloody red. Your head was pounding, your throat raw, and your legs felt like jelly.

What the fuck happened?

You look at the sleeping brute blonde and a shiver runs down your eyes as your sober eyes see so much more. His whole right arm scarred from his fingers up to your deep bite mark on his throat. Chest scared in the shape of a wound that should have killed him reading over his heart and two smaller ones in his other shoulder and hip.

What had this man been through?

It didn't matter, especially as his warning finally registered.

"Can't be here any longer."

Fuck

Shit

Fuck!

You don't even have any clothes to put back on, he ruined them all. You steal his cotton black t shirt and dig in Kaminari's drawers as quietly as possible for shorts.

Hastily jumping into them as you tiptoe to the sliding glass that leads to the balcony. It wouldn't be the first time you climbed down the side of this multimillion dollar home but with Bakugou lying just a few feet away shot your nerves.

Your hand wraps around the wooden handle to pull it open before a giant palm stops the door before slapping it to the back of your neck.

"Ya think imma let you walk out on me after I've had you barkin for me?" He holds your nape tightly and his other hand snakes to your ribs to pull you flush with his bare chest.

This time he doesn't just burn the shirt, this time the skin under your breast starts to bubble under his touch as he brands you as his. Starting at you in the reflection of the sliding glass door. Eyes deadly as that fuckin sadistic smirk returns.

"Speak."

Summer was dying

Tears fall down your cheeks and for the third time he presses his tongue to your soft skin to collect them, lips trembling around the word.

And so was a piece of you.

"Woof"

#bakugou x reader #villain!bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x fem!reader #tw non con #kitten writes 🖤🐈‍⬛🖋️#kitten writes bakugou #end of summer bash 🖤🐈‍⬛

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flyingraijin · 1 year

Text

motive (you treat me like gold) | K. Hatake

Summary: Five times you leave Kakashi helplessly flustered and the one time he's able to get back at you for it.

Warnings: 5+1 trope, fluff, humour, awkward sexual situations, dry humping, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, creampie

Word Count: 18 986

Available on AO3 here

Note: I finally wrote something for Kakashi, yeeeeee!!!

Kakashi can't quite decide whether this is a good idea or a very very bad one.

He supposes that a case could be made for either side - not the best odds in his personal opinion, but he'll also be the first to admit that he's never been the most fussy about that sort of thing.

It's supposed to be a relaxing trip, this whole thing. A lot of Shinobi do it - take a short detour on their way back to Konoha after they complete a mission, to visit a tiny little town that's only about half a days walk off course. There are hot springs all over the place but this town has the best of them and Kakashi would have to agree that sinking into scalding water after days or even weeks of living on the road is about as close to heaven as one could get. The mission he'd been on this time, along with Team 7, was grueling to say the least. Hours upon hours of fighting and very little sleep had left all their bones feeling achey and sore. Naruto in particular had ended up with a bruise about the size of a large ramen bowl on his upper back, and he'd complained loudly about it the entire walk back. That was part of the reason why Kakashi had decided to bring them here - the water of the onsen was said to have healing properties and while Kakashi wasn't quite sure he believed that , he could admit that a nice warm bath would make them all feel better.

He hasn't expected it to be quite so crowded however.

As it turned out, Team 7 wasn't the only one on a difficult mission. Kakashi's blood had run cold when he'd stepped into the all-male bathing area only to have his ears violently bombarded with a loud yellow of "Kakashi!" in an all too familiar and enthusiastic voice. It was also around that time that Rock Lee - wearing only a very precariously wrapped towel - had tackled Naruto, and Akamaru - why was the dog allowed in the bath? - had started barking. And Kakashi had retreated without even getting into the water because after being with his three little monsters for almost three weeks stright, he had a feeling his brain might melt out of his ears if he was subjected to any more chaos.

The blessing about this bath house in particular was the fact that it had three different baths. A males only, a females only and a mixed area. Usually Kakashi would avoid the mixed baths if he could, primarily because most of the time they were filled with creeping perverts like Jiraiya, and Kakashi didn't want to be associated with anyone of that calibre, thanks. But right then, as he could hear the yelling and splashing from the all-male onsen even through the dividing wall, he figured he'd take whatever the mixed bath could throw at him over being drowned in sulphur water by Guy.

Mercifully, when Kakashi arrived in the mixed bathing area, it was blessedly empty. And he was able to sink down into the steaming water right up to his eyes and say his thanks to the gods that mixed bathes were invented in the first place.

That is until he was faced with the possibility that someone might have the same idea as him and come to disturb his peace. Cue the ultimate dilemma.

It's becauee of this that Kakashi finds himself watching the entrance to the mixed onset like a hawk, his face still half submerged in the water and his body far too tense for someone taking a bath.

He supposes that if a total stranger walks in, it would be okay. Unfortunately, he also knows that with so many people he knows wandering around, the chances that it will be a complete stranger are slim to none.

For a long time he just sits, watching the doorway with sharp eyes - or eye , since he keeps his left eyelid tight shut - and keeping his senses alert to the approach of any chakra presences. Ands for a long time he feels and sees nothing. It's around ten minutes later when something happens and it has Kakashi's heart sinking in his chest.

The doorframe creaks just a little as the door slides open, and Kakashi's pulse leaps into his throat as a pair of legs appear. He knows that chakra signature, just like he knows those calf muscles. And if he's honest, it's probably the very last person in the whole world he'd want to see here.

You freeze up the moment you notice him, your eyes wide and your fingers tightening around the towel that you - thank the gods for Kakashi's sake - have wrapped around your waist.

"Oh crap."

Kakashi blinks, staring blankly for a second. And then, very hastily, he drops his eyes. His cheeks are uncomfortable warm.

What's even worse is the fact that you seem just as flustered. Which upsets Kakashi because you don't usually get flustered about anything. He had basically grown up with you after all, considering your relation to his former sensei, and he'd truly believed you could be confident in the face of anything. You'd even appeared stark naked in front of him a few times for gods know what reason, and even then you'd kept your dignity.

Now though, Kakashi can watch in real time as your face crumples and your posture turns reserved and self-conscious. You can't really even look at his face as you sink into your towel.

"I…" you stumble out, "I'm sorry, I didn't know there was someone in here."

Kakashi gulps, clears his throat. Then he says, "Don't worry about it."

"I wanted somewhere quiet," you explain to him, shifting your weight from foot to foot. "Anko got kind of drunk and I was worried she was going to smother me in her… yeah. But I can leave if you want to be alone!"

You're already turning to go and Kakashi feels his stomach do a flip when he catches a glimpse of the contours of your shoulder blades - shoulder blades, really? - but he's quick to call you back anyway, immediately feeling guilty.

(He also doesn't want to admit but he likes the idea of having you around, even in his embarrassing state of undress)

"It's alright, you can stay if you want," he tells you earnestly. "I don't mind. And I think… it'd be nice to have someone to talk to anyway."

You give him an almost skeptical look but don't turn away any further. "Well, if you're comfortable…" you say awkwardly after a second. "I'll, uh, keep my towel on though."

Kakashi turns pink - even pinker than the steaming bathwater had made him - and has to resist the urge to duck his head underwater. "That's fine," he tells you, his voice just a tad weak and squeaky.

You nod at him and then step forward, and oh gods, Kakashi realises then and there how screwed he is. He doesn't want to look, he shouldn't even feel the desire to look. He reads so much smut on a day-to-day basis that he should be entirely immune to this sort of thing by now. And yet, he can't help but watch, can't help but let his eyes wander as you reach the edge of the pool. His gaze travels up your bare leg as you stretch it out to drop your foot down into the steaming water. Your skin is already dewy with moisture in a way that makes Kakashi's heart beat at least three times as fast as normal. And then it almost stops when, as you go to step your other foot into the bath, your short towel rides up just the tiniest bit and he catches a glimpse of the glowing skin of your upper thigh.

Kakashi's not a virgin. He's not. Bur he absolutely feels like one as he has to adjust himself and very pointedly stare down at the steaming water to stop his entire body from buffering as you slip down into the bath up until your chest.

It probably wouldn't be like this if it was any of the other women in his life. Anko, Kurenai, Shizune or even the great Lady Tsunade herself, who is arguably one if the most beautiful women in the whole of Konohagakure. All of them, he'd be just fine with. But, so very unfortunately, it's not them, it's you . And it just so happens that Kakashi has had the biggest crush on you since the pair of you had ended up in ANBU together when you were teenagers.

Maybe looking at her face will be better, Kakashi thinks to himself as he shifts his legs where he's sitting, trying desperately to dissuade that thing which is growing stiff between his thighs. Yes, that will definitely be better.

Only it's very much not better. When Kakashi manages to persuade his eyes to lift again and turns his focus to your face, the thing he very suddenly feels is uncomfortably similar to that of being punched right in the solar plexus.

There's warmth visible in the deep colours of your cheeks and your lips are just a little swollen from the heat. Moisture has dampened the skin of your face, beading along your temple and only visible for the fact that your hair has been pushed up and away from your skin. A few strands hang down at yours ears, and when you turn your head a little, Kakashi can see there's another curl, dark with water, stuck to the back of your neck.

It's not an erotic sight, not at all. You're just taking a bath. And yet Kakashi's disgusting, perverted mind can't help but skew the image just a little. He gulps and ducks his head once again as burning heat tickles up his neck.

Ah, fuck me.

"I didn't know you were here," you tell him once your back is settled against the opposite side of the bath to him. "I saw Sakura in the other bath. Did you just get done with your mission?"

Kakashi nods, shifting once again as he desperately tries to conceal his growing arousal. Stop it , he tells himself desperately. If she realises, she'll never speak to you again!

"We were in the Land of Tea," he says aloud, fighting to keep his voice even. "The mission rang longer than expected so I thought coming here would be a nice treat for the kids. Might stop Naruto from complaining about how I never take them anywhere good." He offers you a weak smile.

Thankfully, you seem to remain oblivious to his predicament and let out a soft giggle. "I can imagine. I'm sure I heard him talking over the wall actually - something about battle scars?"

"He got nicked by a kunai on his cheek," Kakashi offers. "It's probably that."

You snort. "Makes sense."

"Did you just get back a mission too?" Kakashi asks you then. "I remember you left the village before us."

You nod as you cup your hands and raise them above the surface of the water, watching the small streams that escape between your fingers. "Yeah. I had an ANBU assignment and then I met up with Anko to go to the Land of Rice Lemons."

"Ah." Kakashi nods. "Everything went well, then?"

You shrug one shoulder and Kakashi has to look away from the droplet of water that rolls down the exposed line of your neck. Blood pulses between his legs.

"For the most part. Although I was the only shinobi able to use medical ninjutsu on the team again, so I had to do a lot of healing. As usual."

Right. Kakashi forgets sometimes, with how good of a fighter you are, that you also have training as a medical-nin. Not as advanced as Tsunade or Shizune, since it's not your primary area of focus. But good enough to act as an emergency medic on a mission.

"I can see why you want some time off."

You smile a little, which makes Kakashi's stomach do a couple of forward flips, and shrug one shoulder. "Yeah. I am used to it. Although, I can't say I'm looking forward to getting home. I don't doubt Lady Hokage will send me off on another mission as soon as I've had my mandatory downtime."

"Maa, it'll be the same for me I'm sure," Kakashi says, his shoulders drooping just a little as he thinks of the thick stack of mission requests Tsunade will inevitably hand him once he gets back to Konohagakure. "I supposes it just the drill now, with how short on jounin we are."

"Yeah," you say. Then you give him a long look from beneath your eyelashes - a long look which makes Kakashi shiver inside his skin. And it only solidifies the boner he's got. Gods, he hopes you never figure out what's going on.

"I'd like it if we got assigned on a joined mission," you tell him then, so plainly he almost doesn't register what you'd said. Your voice is soft, innocent, and it only serves to make Kakashi blush even harder.

And then, when he actually processes what you've told him, he has to dig his own fingers into the skin of his thigh to suppress the shiver that runs up his spine. You, the shinobi most notorious for swearing off team-ups if you could help it, suppressing an interest in joining him on a mission?

Kakashi isn't sure why but he has a very sudden and very bizarre feeling that he might come right there.

"Y-yeah, that's be… that's be nice," he squeaks out. "I'd like that."

You blink languidly, and while it's definitely not on purpose, Kakashi has to forcibly drop his eyes once again. Then he hears your soft laugh.

"Don't act so shy, Kakashi. We've worked together a lot before. I trust you."

You shouldn't, Kakashi thinks wildly. Oh gods, you shouldn't. I'm a horrible person.

"Anyway, I'll ask the Hokage about it when I get back. I'm sure she'll be able to-"

Only yours words die out when there's a very loud, very bellowy yell of your name from over the fence where, presumably, the all ladies onsen is. You visibly wince.

"Ah, geez, guess Anko has finally figured out I've escaped."

"Guess so…" Kakashi says, so desperately trying to seem normal. You let out a long sigh.

"I suppose I should go wrangle her before she tears this place apart looking for me." And then you stand up and fuck, Kakashi would have liked a warning.

"It was nice seeing you, Kakashi," you tell him sweetly as you climb out of the bath. Kakashi stares hard at the puddle forming around your feet so he doesn't have to look at the water droplets rolling down you legs.

"You too," he tells you and he thinks you smile back at him.

"Bye!"

Kakashi doesn't relax until you've left the bathing area completely and the door has been slid tightly back into place. It's only then that he releases the sigh he didn't know he was holding. Dejectedly, he slides down in the water until it's almost reaching his eyes.

I'm an awful human being is what he thinks to himself sadly. Truly heinous. I'm more of a pervert than Jiraiya could ever be.

He feels guilty. And embarrassed. And he knows he should completely wipe this whole incident from his mind and forget it ever happened in the first place.

He knows he should. But he also knows, already, as he sits in the steaming water with bright red cheeks and a raging hard on, that he'll be seeing the image of your dripping wet figure, one hand holding up the soaked towel that's plastered to every curve and contour of your body, and that adorable smile on your face, pasted into the backs of his eyelids for at least the next two weeks.

Very much to Kakashi's surprise, just over a month after what he's come to call the "onsen incident", that team up mission you'd mentioned actually happens.

Lady Tsunade doesn't usually take suggestions in terms of the missions she assigns. Personal preference for the involved shinobi is quite far down in the list of factors she deems to consider when handing out work, with things like skill level and expertise, payment, and who was available being seen as far higher priority factors. So Kakashi was very surprised when he was called into the Hokage's office and handed an S-rank mission with you standing right at his elbow.

"This will probably end up being extremely combat oriented," Tsunade had explained as she'd handed out the mission briefs. "Which is why I've sent you two." But Kakashi hadn't missed the look you'd shared with her, or the tiny smile she'd flashed in your direction.

Not that he'd minded at all - at least at first. You weren't the only one keen on a team up after all. Since the pair of you had trained so closely, and then worked together in ANBU, your coordination on the battlefield was now like a well-oiled machine. Putting the two of you on any one task was almost a guarenteed success.

It had left Kakashi in a decidedly good mood during the days leading up to his departure with you. And even during the long trek to the Land of Iron, with the weather turning from warm and balmy to absolutely freezing, he'd had a certain spring in his step.

He'll admit now though, that his mood has been slightly dampened. He supposes that will happen to you when a group of bow-and-arrow-wieding samurai gang up on you ten to one and send you fleeing through terrain covering in at least a metre's worth of snow.

Tsunade had said the mission would be combat oriented. But the way Kakashi sees it now, what he's doing isn't so much combat as it is desperately trying not to get killed.

"Kakashi!" He hears your voice, shrill and alert, from just up ahead of him. You're sprinting, just as he is, through the snow - although he thinks you're decidedly more graceful that he must be. He sees you point off to your right. "If we head for the tree line it will give us some cover! And moving through the branches will be quicker than running like this."

"Right!" Kakashi yells back, and then quickly moves his head just a little to the side to avoid an arrow that comes shooting past with a zing! In sync, the pair of you make a B line towards the dark splodge that is all you can see of the start of the forest through the falling snow.

Kakashi dodges another arrow and then ups his speed just a little. His feet crunch hard against the fresh snow, sinking into it just a little too far for his long stride to be as effective as usual.

"Shit!"

Kakashi looks forward just fast enough to see an arrow fly right past your face. It nicks across your nose and even catches a few strands of your hair on its way past; slicing right through them with how sharp it is. You stumble just a little, thrown off balance with the unsteady footing and your lightening fast reaction. And that's when Kakashi hears it; the telltale zip of another arrow; one that's heading right towards where your neck will be.

He moves before he can think about it - which is probably stupid on his part. Your reflexes are fast enough that you would have been able to dodge it even without his help. But Kakashi's instincts are too strong - he's seen too many people die in front of him, and while his head knows you'll get out alive, his heart isn't so sure. His step is fast enough that he disappears form visibility for a second, only to reappear once more right in the pathway of the arrow. He has just enough time to turn so he doesn't take it right to the chest, and then he hears you let out a squeak of surprise as the razor sharp tip of the arrow bruises itself neatly into the muscle of his shoulder.

Kakashi lets put a stifled groan because crap, that really stings. But he only lets himself falter for a second before he grabs your elbow and the pair of you are off again, into the treetops and then shooting off as far away from the samurai archers as you possibly can.

You only slow down once you're both entirely sure there's no one else around anymore. You alight on the thick branch of a snow covered pine tree and Kakashi does the same on a different tree. For a moment the both of you just stare at each other for a second, breathing hard. And then Kakashi winces.

Right, he remembers as what feels like liquid fire begins to spread across his shoulder blade. I got shot.

By the look on you face, it seems you've remembered too.

"We should make camp here," you tell him, crossing your arms over your chest. "I need to look at that."

Kakashi hides a pained expression behind his mask. "I'm just fine," he tries to tell you. But you just shake your head at him in response.

"For all we know, that arrow was poisoned. Plus, your chakra is running low. You've used your raikiri how many times today?"

Kakashi doesn't have an answer for that because he knows that you're right. So he just lets his shoulders slump - and immediately regrets it because it shifts the arrow in his flesh and sends a new burst of fire through his back - and nods a little dejectedly. You give him a nod of your own, far more confident than he is, and then turn. He watches as you begin the familiar process of setting up camp - littering the clearing with your sealed kunai, making up the beginnings of a small fire, and unrolling your bedroll. It's not snowing in this area, with the pair of you having fled the Land of Iron and put some distance between yourself and the border, however, it's still decidedly chilly. Kakashi can feel the cold starting to set in as he leans down to grab his own bedroll, which is not really a nice feeling at all when paired with the burning from the wound.

You grab it before he can though, and send him a very stern look as you roll it out for him. Then you point at it in a way that tells Kakashi doing as you instruct is by no means a request but rather an order.

"Sit."

Kakashi sits. You kneel down behind him. He feels the shift in the arrowhead as you grasp it around the shaft.

"I'm going to pull it out," you tell him, "and when I do, you'll need to be quick getting the rest of your clothes off. I'm familiar with the posions the Samurai use and a lot of the time they'd designed to be fast sacting from the moment the source object is removed."

"Got it," Kakashi mumbles, suddenly feeling distinctly useless. "Clothes off a soon as the arrow is out."

You flick the back of his head and then let out a soft, amused noise. Kakashi kind of hates how, even with how short and insignificant it is, the sound relaxes him almost completely. "Quit stressing, Lightening Boy," you tell him cheekily. "I'm a great medic. You're in good hands."

Kakashi doesn't even have time to respond before you wrap your fingers more securely around the arrow and then yank it right out of his shoulder.

It's like molten rock has been poured across his back and Kakashi finds his eyes watering as a silent gasp of pain leaves him. He pushes through it though, focussing on the instruction you'd given him, and as soon as he sees you set the arrow on the ground out of the corner of his eye, he gets to work stripping. First the long wrap he'd been wearing, then his flak jounin vest. The latter falls to the ground with a somewhat heavy thud and you inspect it gingerly as he wrestles with his shirt.

"You're gonna need to fix this. It's quite an ugly looking hole."

Kakashi can only grunt as, finally, he gets his shirt off and ends up sitting in just his very thin undershirt which attaches to his mask. Thankfully, the shirt is cropped enough that it exposes the arrow wound without Kakashi having to take it off.

For a moment, he thinks he's safe. But then, when he feels you fingers dance across the skin of his back and shouder blade for the first time, he starts to realise that it's quite the opposite in fact.

Oh gods.

Your finger tips barely brush his skin, your touch as light as the kiss of a butterflies wing, and yet it does things to Kakashi. Things that are not at all appropriate, given the circumstances.

He coughs and shifts a bit, trying to draw his legs a little closer.

"You're lucky," you tell him then, pressing your palm flat to his shoulder blade - Kakashi has to utilise every ounce of his self control to prevent himself from gasping; how can your hand even be that soft???? - while the other hand pokes very gently around the wound. "I'm about ninety nine percent sure what poison this is, and I know I have an antidote for it."

"You do?" Kakashi asks, and immediately regrets it because his voice comes our far weaker than it should. Your fingers are still on his skin, rubbing back and forth, and while it brings some slight pain, the fact that all the nerves in that area are going into overdrive only makes things ten times worse.

No, Kakashi thinks to himself as his eyes flicker down and he sees something stir in the crotch of his trousers. Oh no. Please not now.

His body has other plans as blood rushes through his veins, right to the area it really should not be.

"Let me just…" you mumble slowly, still examining him. Then, thank gods, you turn and take both hand off his back, reaching for the arrow you'd discarded. Kakashi twists his head a little to watch as you touch a finger to the arrow head and then raise it to your tongue, tasting. Immediately you spit, and put the arrow down again.

"Yeah, it is what I thought it is," you say, reaching under your own robe to rifled through your pack. Once you receive a small jar, you turn back to Kakashi. He looks away as fast as possible.

"It's a localised poison," you tell him as you uncap the jar and then start touching his back again. Kakashi stifles a whimper. "It's comprised of several reagents which prevent the wound from healing and, if left long enough, disrupt the closest tenketsu points. Without the antidote, you might have lost your ability to use ninjutsu and genjutsu. Lucky for you, I'm here."

"Lucky," Kakashi creaks, although he's starting to think that maybe that would have been better than this. Your hands are back, now rubbing the antidote into the wound and Kakashi is almost glad for the pain it brings. He doesn't have a pain kink, thank fuck, so the burning sensation that comes from you literally sticking your fingers into the slice in his skin does help to dissolve the arousal bioling in his gut, just a little.

Unfortunately, it doesn't last long. After a few seconds, you're done with the cool paste and, after putting the lid of the tub back on and safely storing it away once again, you get to the medical ninjutsu. And gods, does that make everything so much worse.

No one really speaks about how much of an intimate process healing actually is. Kakashi has always thought so, extensively, though he doesn't really mind much with other healers. You, however…

The thing about medical ninjustsu is that it feels almost like a bath in someone else's chakra. As your hands press gently into his skin and that familiar tingly feeling of the jutsu washes over his shoulder, Kakashi actually has to stop himself from moaning. It's so you , as if a piece of your soul and your essence is permeating his entire being, and it's almost suffocating. But… in a good way.

Crap, Kakashi thinks to himself. Crap crap crap. His pants are far tighter than they should be.

"Almost done," you say quietly and your voice is so close that Kakashi does actually shiver. He tries to cover it with an awkward cough but he's sure you notice anyway. Hopefully, you just mistake it for a wince of pain.

"It won't even leave a scar," you mumble out, sounding pleased with yourself. Playfully, you poke at his other shoulder. "No imperfections on your rock hard muscles, Lightening Boy."

Kakashi gulps. He's really hoping you're not able to see the his other facet which is currently rock hard.

"At least we got the mission done," you continue on cheerfully. "Hey, maybe we can even stop by the hot springs on our way back. Like a reward. What d'you-?"

But Kakashi is busy having war flashbacks to the last time he went to the hot springs, and he can only shake his head with a terrified grunt.

You give him a curious look and finally, finally, take your hands off him. He twists his head to look at you as you sit back on your haunches.

"What's wrong?" you ask with furrowed eyebrows.

Kakashi falters. "O-oh, nothing's wrong," he starts, thankfully regaining some of his cognitive ability. "I just… well there's a new Icha Icha book coming out and I was planning to bug Jiraiya about it a little -"

Not exactly a total lie but the book is only coming out next month and Kakashi wasn't planning to bug anyone about anything. Thankfully, you seem to buy it anyway because you give him a very flat look.

"I seriously don't understand what you see in those books," you tell him, disappointed. "Jiraiya-sensei has only ever written one quality piece of literature and that was the book my dad named Naruto after. All the other stuff can be put in a bonfire and burned."

In Kakashi's personal opinion, he's starting to think you're right. The only explanation he can muster up for his sudden, and incredibly embarrassing, reactions to your person is that those books have messed up his libido somehow.

"Tell you what," he says as he reaches for his shirt, finally able to put it back on and hide his overly sensitive skin from your magic fingers again. "I'll let you burn them all as soon as we get home. And you can make Jiraiya watch."

The smile you give him is almost enough to get him hard all over again.

Kakashi doesn't let you burn the books.

After the long journey back to Konoha, on which he manages to regain his dignity, he come to the realisation that he was probably out of his mind when he told you such a thing. Hormones and whatnot. There's no way the books are having such an effect on him and so there's no way he'll allow you to get rid of them

Especially not so, right when it's time for his tradition of rereading the entire series to prepare for a new release.

Thankfully, you seem to forget about what he'd told you upon your arrival back to Konohagakure, with your mind already turned to yet another new task that has arisen. One which has Kakashi significantly intrigued as well.

As it would seem, during his sensei's absence from the village, Naruto had embarked on extra training with Jiraiya. Since the training period for the third stage of the Chunin exams, your little brother and the legendary sannin have become rather close. Which Kakashi was thrilled about because if he was entirely honest, Jiraiya's style of fighting was a far better fit for Naruto than his own. However, as Naruto explained very loudly and whinily once Kakashi and you saw him at Ichiraku's on the night of your return, Jiraiya had left two days previously to go do some more "stupid pervy research", and had cut the young gennin's training short.

You had always had a soft spot for Naruto, considering he is your brother - although he's not aware of that or his parentage at all - so you jump at the chance when he practically begs for more help training. And because Kakashi is his sensei, he can't say no to the request either. Thankfully, you're more than happy to take the reins on this one, which kets Kakashi off the hook and allows him to find a nice comfortable patch if grass to sprawl across and read his book while you oversee Naruto's workout.

He's still working on chakra control, Kakashi notes, although it's more advanced than the exercise with the tree that he'd taught to Team 7 some time ago. Using chakra in the base if the feet to walk in the surface if water as jf jt was solid ground - evidently something Naruto had been working on during his month of training with Jiraiya, however, he obviously hasn't mastered it in full just yet. The walking part maybe, but now as the pair of your stand atop the surface of a slow moving stream and prepare to spar each other, Kakashi notices that Naruto is still distinctly wobbly on his feet.

You stand opposite the little blonde boy, with your hands on your hips and a smirk on your face. Your eyes are bright with excitement, though your gaze remains keen and sharp, and that's all Kakashi can really say because he's trying very very hard to look only at your face and nothing else

See, the issue is, with the both of you working on, and in Naruto's case in, the water, you'd had the foresight to suggest training in bathing suits. Which made a lot of sense and was a very smart idea. Only now it means Kakashi is once again subjected to the sight of your almost naked figure, even less covered this time round and demonstrating the full glory of what it means to be a highly skilled jounin.

You're also dropping wet, something Kakashi has already established to be a weakness of his.

"Alright, Naruto," you say brightly, pointing a finger at the short boy. "Come at me with everything you've got."

Naruto wobbles a little bit, and then grins. "Gotcha, scary lady. Here I goooo!" He puts his hands together to make the hand sign for the shadow clone jutsu and promptly falls right through the surface of the water. Your throw you head back and laugh loudly as he splutters.

Kakashi would laugh too if he wasn't so busy noticing the line of you neck. When he realises what's he's doing, he's almost tempted to hit himself in the face with his Icha Icha novel.

Stop it, there is a child present!

"You've gotta stay focused," you say to Naruto once he's clambered back up to stand on top of the river again.

"But I was focussing!" he complains. You shake your head at him.

"You've gotta be able to focus on two different chakra controls at once if you want to do any ninjustu while standing in the water. But the shadow clone jutsu is even more difficult because you're splitting your chakra."

When Naruto looks confused, you sigh. "Here, I'll demonstrate."

Then you form your own hand sign and immediately, several shadow clones appear on the surface of the water around you, all perfectly balance, all staring at Naruto expectantly.

And all, to poor Kakashi's unfortunate horror, wearing the same sexy white bikini that you've got on.

His vision is suddenly overwhelmed with the sight of your dewy, wet skin and damp hair, visible to him now from all angles. Your shadows clones are all perfectly replicas of you, down the the freckles on your skin and Kakashi… oh, Kakashi feels like he's drowning, just a little bit.

Has her spine always curved like that? he thinks to himself wildly as he watches the line of jt bend as you explain something to Naruto. Another one of your clones flickers hair from her shoulder and he's subject to the way the muscles in your shoulder blade move with your arm. Is her skin always that smooth looking?

I'd like to touch it.

Kakashi's eyes widen and he does smack himself in the face with his book then. No! He yells at himself. Don't think like that. She's an old friend and she doesn't see you that way, so don't be a creep!

Still, he can't drag his eyes away as you let your clones dissolve and then start to fight with Naruto head in, no ninjistu this time, just taijutsu. The way your muscles ripple under your skin with each movement, the flow there is to your body, the fluidity that comes with fighting - all things Kakashi had always admired about you but now they're amplified by how little clothing you're wearing. He can see exactly what movements you're making now, can see the power behind each kick or punch with the way your joints flex and your muscles bunch and release. And unfortunately because he's a sick, sick man, Kakashi's mind take those images and applies them to different scenarios.

How your body would move as you writh under him. How your muscles would tense as he teased you within inches of an orgasm. How you'd throw your head back and he'd get to kiss down the line of your neck as you came.

I want to die, Kakashi thinks dejectedly to himself as he forces his eyes back to the page of the book in front of him. I deserve to die.

"Hey, Kakashi-sensei! Watch this!"

Kakashi can't ignore the joyful yell of his student and he's forced to raise his head once more. "Yes, Naruto?" he asks, forcing his voice to remain flat. Naruto waves wildly at him.

"Watch me win this fight!"

Kakashi can't help but glance at you, and he notices the glint in your eye immediately. Naruto might be your little brother, and this training might be about helping him improve, but there's no way you're going easy on him. You're gonna fight him with your full force, and Kakashi can see it written all over your face. And, quite frankly, it turns him on even more.

Kakashi gulps.

Naruto attacks first with a yell, almost instinctively making the hindsight for the shadow clone jutsu. He only makes one other clone this time and manages to do it too, which makes Kakashi smile just a bit behind his mask.

Both Narutos attack you in full force, with the clone remaining at your front, while the real Naruto leaps round to stand at your back. It's a good strategy, Kakashi can admit, however, he sees the flaws in it immediately.

As do you, it would seem, when you spin and grab the real Naruto as he leaps at you, only to hurls him over your shoulder at the clone. The clone disappears with a pop and Naruto splashes down into the river water. He sinks for a moment before coughing and splashing as he tries to pull himself up.

You stand over him, confident but not smug about your victory, and even now Kakashi can see the pride in your eyes. Just the fact that Naruto had been able to create a shadow clone with enough control so they both remained atop the water was a huge step. Enough, almost, for kakashi to forget the stirring in his crotch.

However, it would seem that you're determined to make life difficult for him because you turn to look at him them. Not just your head but most of your body as wall. And Kakashi gets a full dose of the way you look right now; dripping hair, sun-warmed skin, the spark in your eye that appears whenever you're fighting, and just the hint of a smile in the curve of your lips.

Immediately, it all comes rushing back to Kakashi and he's suddenly very very glad for his mask. His face is bright pink.

"He's doing well, huh?" You say to Kakashi in a voice that's just quiet enough that Naruto, who's still in the river, won't hear over the sound of his own struggling.

"Oh." Kakashi coughs and makes sure to set his book doen on his lap in a way that will conceal… things. "Yes, well, you're a good teacher, it would seem."

Your smile widens just a little but you shake your head. "So are you. You taught him chakra control, didn't you?"

"Maa, it was more like a forced him to learn it," Kakashi admits, tilting his head to the side just a bit. "He did it by himself, mostly."

That does make you smile and you turn your head to look at Naruto once more. He's managed to climb out the water by now and is crouching on its surface, shaking himself like a dog.

"He's pretty amazing," you say softly as you watch him, pride and pain in your eyes. "I just wish…"

Kakashi knows what you're thinking. He wishes the same thing, sometimes multiple times a day. That his sensei could see Naruto now, that Kushjna could see him.

What he's sure you don't realise is that Kakashi wishes the same with for you too. He looks away from Naruto and back to you, his gaze sliding over you. He can't help but remember the little girl who'd refused to let go of his sleeve in the days following the Nine Tails attack, the way you hadn't been able to even look at Naruto for so long, how you'd worn your ANBU mask everywhere for years just so people would stop looking at you. You've grown up so much since then, since that day you'd seen Naruto sitting alone on his swing and decided to change something. Kakashi is sure Minato-sensei would have been just as proud of you.

"You're amazing," he can't help but mumble under his breath as he stares at you. "Really amazing. I wish I could say it to you properly."

Naruto is ready to attack again by this time, and he wastes not even a second before he's leaping back at you. Kakashi catches the giggle of joy you let out as you jump right back into the fight along with the younger boy and it makes him smile. He watches as Naruto tries to kick you and you don't even need to see it to block it, as you aim a small wind-style attack which sends him tumbling back, as he doesn't sink into the water like he usually does and instead kneels atop it, coughing.

Minato-sensei , Kakashi thinks to himself as he watches the pair of you, just a little wistfully. I wish you were here to see this.

Minato-sensei, I'm so glad you're not here to see this.

Kakashi… honestly doesn't know how he keeps ending up in these situations.

He's thought, when the assignment was first given, that there wouldn't be much room for him to mess things up. Technically, as Danzo Shimura had so graciously pointed out as he handed the paperwork over to Kakashi, this task was one for the ANBU. Top secret, stealth oriented, the kind that no one should be able to trace back to Konohagakure. Nothing nefarious of course - Tsunade would rather lay down and die than allow her shinobi to collaborate in any of the borderline heinous things Root got up to. No, it was just an intel gathering assignment, just turned up to a level of difficultly that would have even the most experienced shinobi sweating through their vests.

It should be ANBU members taking it. But Konoha seems perpetually short-staffed these days and even the ANBU are running low on available shinobi - at least, shinobi of the calibre required to take on a mission.

You and Kakashi are assigned because you're ex-ANBU. And Tenzo is told to accompany you as well. So you'd all left Konohagakure together, ready to trek out towards some nameless city run by organised crime to snoop around.

You'd left together. But you're not that way anymore. If Kakashi remembers correctly, the three of you had been separated on the third day after which you'd arrived at the town, and he hasn't seen you or Tenzo since.

So much for simple, right?

Kakashi doesn't mind working alone. In his personal opinion, that's actually when he does some of his best work. What he does mind is having absolutely no clue where his teammates are, if they're safe or even if they're alive.

He minds it mostly because he hates the stress. But also because it means he has to sneak around looking for them in places he'd much rather not be.

Hence… well, this.

Kakashi had slipped his way into one of the houses belonging to the leader of the crime syndicate in search of… something. Anything. Supposedly the house had been quiet, which should have left Kakashi plenty of room to scurry around in there completely undisturbed.

Only, things never went according to plan, and as it turned out, the house was not quiet. Kakashi had been sneaking down one hallway when he'd heard the loud booming voice of none other than the owner of the house. In panic, he'd slipped into the nearest room - which happened to be a bedroom - and rolled under the large, raised bed in search of cover.

Only to come face to face with you. Of all the people.

Once again, Kakashi sends a prayer up to all the gods he can think of, thanking them that his sensei isn't around to witness this.

He's got you pinned. You, with your back to the wooden floor, your arms pressed to your sides and your eyes wide, him, somehow, above you, balancing on his forearms and knees, keeping his distance as best as he can.

Which isn't very applaudable, considering how little room there is beneath the bed and the face that his chest, stomach and pelvis are pressed flush against yours. Really, he'd only need to relax the muscles in his neck by a fraction for his head to drop and then he'd be kissing you just like that.

I'm sorry, Kakashi tries to plead as best he can with the one eye you can see. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. He would sign it but he can't move his arms at all.

You just blink back, slowly and animatedly, as if you're still trying to process what's going on. Then you shift one shoulder as best you can, in a gesture that Kakashi hopes to mean 'It's okay.'

It's not okay. Definitely not. With the both of you only dressed in thin, black, stealth suits, Kakashi can feel just about everything. The entire front of his body is pressed flat against yours and every single nerve is firing faster than he can process. Gods, he can feel your heartbeat. Not to mention the front curves of your hips, the softness of your stomach and your… your…

Your breasts are squashed right up into his pecs and Kakashi can't breathe.

He also doesn't have time to focus on the fact that he can't breathe either, because right then the door of the bedroom you're both cowering in is thrown open and heavy footsteps stomp their way in. Kakashi almost wants to squeeze his eyes shut in anticipation.

There's a thump. The mattress creaks above the both of you. And then there's so much pressure on Kakashi's back that he can't help it - he's forced down further, practically into you, until his head is buried in your shoulder and his pelvis is crushing yours.

Something twitches in his pants as he feels you move just a little beneath him, your body rubbing against his own.

No! Kakashi thinks desperately, actually squeezing his eyes shut this time. The warmth of your body is so overwhelming it's also making him light headed, but he has the presence of mind to start hating himself all over again. No No No No nononononononoooooooo! Not now!

Yes now, his cock tells him though because fuck, you feel…

You're shifting again, obviously trying to get more comfortable, but in doing so, you're unknowingly grinding on Kakashi. And it has him pratically shaking because not only is he hard but now you're touching it.

Oh gods.

Kakashi's jaw clenches and he does his best to shift himself away from you. At least, he does the most he possible can without alerting whoever has decided to flop down on the bed above the both of you. Only it does fuck all and he's in just as much of a predicament as before.

He feels a tight grasp on his sleeve just then, sudden and warning. It makes his pause and he turns his head just a little to try and see your face. Only you're already looking, your head turned just a little. Your eyes are wide, almost threatening and Kakashi understands immediately - stop moving.

I would, Kakashi thinks desperately. I really would. But if I do, you'll feel it! And then you'll hate me forever!

He can't exactly tell you these things though, so he has to follow your instruction. And oh crap , is it so much worse.

His hard on is pressed right up against your thigh. And he knows you feel it because he can feel your leg twitch just slightly when it brushes against the rod in his pants.

She's gonna hate me she's gonna hate me shesgonnahateme- huh?

Oh-

You've tilted your hips, just the tiniest bit. It's definitely unintentional but it's enough to grind along Kakashi's erection, just enough.

Kakashi chokes on the moan that bubbles in his throat and he has to sink his teeth so deep into his bottom lip to muffle it that he's sure blood is drawn.

Stop! Stop moving stop stop stop stop stop stop stopstopstopstop!!!!!

There's another creak from above, as the guy occupying the bed shifts again. Thankfully, it makes you freeze up and Kakashi is granted some small reprieve. And then, thank the gods, the man on the bed lets out a low groan and then rolls back onto his feet, climbing off the mattress and lifting his weight up off the both of you once more.

Kakashi can't help it - he all but jumps away from you as fast as he can possibly move. It's not much but it's just enough that he might be able to pass off the bulge in his pants as a ninja tool - if by some miracle, you haven't noticed already. He almost doesn't care about getting caught anymore. He figures whatever the gang of rogue ninja have in store for him would be far less excruciating than this. Only you grab him once more, by the sleeve, and forcibly hold him still above you until the bastard from the bed has moved out the door.

Kakashi works up enough courage to look down at you then; just a split second glance to try and gauge your level of disgusting. Only, when he sees your face, he almost freezes up once more.

That look… it's almost knowing.

A thought strikes him like lightening then, and even once you determine that it's safe once more and drag both him and yourself out from under the bed, it remains bouncing around his little brain. He can't ignore it, in fact he keeps dwelling on it, until long after you've scrambled back to the rendezvous point and met up with Tenzo once more. It makes him thank back to all the times before now - the onsen, the mission he'd had with you, training with Naruto, all of it - and wonder…

Have you been doing this on purpose?

You're definitely doing this on purpose.

Kakashi has been suspicious of you since this morning, when, completely out of the blue, you'd hijacked his solo training by throwing a kunai at his head, and then pestered him so much that he agreed to attend Asuma's birthday party.

For the record, Kakashi had not been planning to go. He'd been planning to sit alone in his flat and read his books for the evening because he doesn't enjoy parties.

Maybe he should feel bad since it's the birthday of a friend of his. Technically, Asuma isn't the the one throwing it - that's all thanks to Kurenai - but everyone will be there to celebrate him and his old age. Granted, it's a nice gesture. But Kakashi doesn't enjoy parties. Not in the slightest.

There's always loud music he doesn't like, busy people he doesn't like, and horrific dancing he doesn't like. Not to mention the sake. Genuinely, he's a little scared about how much might be consumed at an event such as this.

That was why he'd been planning on dropping a birthday gift off at Asuma's this evening and slipping away all sneaky-like to go read his shameless smut in peace.

But now you've ruined that.

I really should learn how to say no, is what Kakashi thinks as he drags his feet down the street in the direction of the izakaya where the party is being held. Especially to her.

It really js a bit pathetic, how soft he's become. But Kakashi is also starting to suspect that you have at least some idea of what you do to him. Today especially, with the way you're fluttered your eyelashes and blinked at him innocently through your hair as you pleaded with him to attend the party, he couldn't ignore it. You've always been absolutely meticulous about every single thing you do with your body, down to the way your eyes move - it's something that you're forced to learn when you join the ANBU so young. There's no way it wasn't purposeful.

Quite frankly, Kakashi is a little miffed that you've decided to exploit his uncontrollable attraction to you for your own personal agenda.

“Ka-kashi! I see you’ve finally made an appearance!’

Kakashi almost jumps at the sound of the booming voice that comes out of nowhere. Then he lets out a heavy sigh and tuns his head to the side to find the source of the yell.

“What are you doing, Guy?”

Might Guy gives Kakashi a very sad look from where he’s hanging upside down from the branch of a tree that hangs over the street.

“What else but revelling in the springtime of my youth, of course!” he says enthusiastically. Then he starts doing sits up, using only his core muscles to hoist his upper body up to the tree branch and back again. "I thought I'd get my blood pumping before the joyous celebrations this evening."

Kakashi blinks slowly. "So, you're going too, huh?"

Guy smiles brightly. Then he unhooks his leg from the tree and flips to land lightly in the pathway beside Kakashi. "Of course!" He says, throwing a fist in the air. "A whole night for all of us to let loose and experience our youth to the fullest! Who wouldn't enjoy such a thing?"

Kakashi resists the urge to say 'me' outloud and just buries his hands deeper into his pockets. Then he starts walking again, not bothering to wait for Guy.

“To be honest,” Guy starts, jogging a few steps to catch up. “I didn’t expect to see you here, dear rival. I was under the impression you don’t enjoy these things.”

Kakashi blows a sigh out of the side of his mouth and rolls one shoulder nonchalantly. “I don’t like them.”

“And yet here you are,” Guy says, grinning at him mischievously.

Kakashi is quiet for a moment. Then he grumbles out, “I got coerced.”

“Ho!” Guy looks positively delighted by the news, his smile spreading out even further and his dark eyes sparkling. However, when Kakashi turns his own head just slightly to give his rival a questioning look from behind his bangs, Guy keeps his mouth suspiciously closed. He only winks at Kakashi before skipping on ahead, leaving Kakashi himself to stare after him blankly.

It feels like I’ve been left out of a joke.

Unfortunately, there isn’t much time to dwell on the odd behaviour of seemingly all his friends because, upon turning a last corner onto a new, smaller street, Kakashi has reached the small izakaya where the party is being held. He can already hear the loud voices of all his fellow shinobi spilling out on the street, as well as a cacophony of music being played. He only has a moment to steel himself as he watches Guy duck in through the entrance before he has to follow on. And as soon as he steps inside, he immediately regrets every decision he’s made today.

The thing has only just started and already, it's spun off the wall. From where Kakashi stands just in the doorway, he can see at least three people with bright red, alcohol flushed faces, another four people passed out and one very drunk Iruka standing up on a table top, in the midst of doing a dance move that Kakashi hopes to the gods Iruka will forget once he's sober, for his own personal dignity's sake.

Shit, Kakashi thinks wildly as he stands frozen in the doorway. Maybe I'll just turn around and leave-

Only he can't because suddenly he hears a yell of his name.

A yell of his name in a voice that makes his heart melt.

You come stumbling over to him, a dish of sake balanced in your fingers and a loose smile already on your face. The way you move is wobbly, far less precise than it might be usually, and with your hair pulled away from your face, he can see the clear look of distortion in your eyes. You’re drunk.

Not only that but you’re wearing… oh gods. Kakashi’s jaw clenches behind his mask.

It's not even like the outfit you’ve got on is particularly flashy or revealing. It’s just not your usual flax jounin vest and dark pants. Not even your hitai-ate is in it’s usual spot around your neck. You look so… Kakashi almost wants to say human. Like if he imagines hard enough, you just might not be a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf. No, you might just be a normal girl.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kakashi wonders what a world where that was true might be like.

“Ka-kashi!” you say again, your voice wavering just a little with a small hiccup. You take another step in his direction and then trip - how, he really doesn’t know because there's nothing in front of you but air - and he has to duck a little to stabalise you with an arm around your waist. You blink for a second, as if you’re confused about what just happened, and then you turn your face up to look at him. Your smile is breath-taking.

“Kakashi!”

Kakashi feels his cheeks turn a little pink. You’re so close and he can smell your shampoo. “Hello,” he says back softly, setting you properly on your feet once more so he can let go of you.

“You came!’

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Kakashi mumbles quietly. Your smile only grows more beautiful.

“Still, I thought you’d duck out on me! But you didn’t! Thanks, Kashi.”

And then you lean up and press your lips to his masked-up cheek. Kakashi’s brain short circuits just a little.

You haven’t called him ‘Kashi’ in years. Not since before the both of you were in ANBU, and he was still Minato-sensei’s student. Even now, he still remembers how things were back then, when you seemed so much smaller and younger than him, when you’d hide behind a tree and watch him as he trained until he finally gave up pretending not to notice you and called you over. And then he’d help you train, teaching you advanced jutsu despite the fact that you were still only in the Academy. And ever time, like clockwork, once the sun had started to set and the both of you would hear your mother hollering your name, you’d give him a small, shy smile, and kiss his cheek sweetly, and say “Thanks, Kashi,” in the most adorable voice he’d ever heard.

Kakashi was still a child back then, but he’d had a feeling, even at that young age, that those moments were special. Though he didn’t fully realise it until right now, when you do the exact same thing as an adult and it just about makes his poor little heart explode.

Thank the gods you don’t seem to notice any of what’s going on in Kakashi’s brain right now, because you just raise the dish of sake you have in your hand up towards him and keep smiling.

“Drink,” you tell him sweetly. “Let loose.”

And because Kakashi is an absolutely sucker for your puppy eyes, he does as he’s told. He tips his head forward just a little, maybe to try and hide from anyone but you, and then he hooks a finger in his mask and drags it down. You put the dish to his lips without question, your eyes warm and soft, and feed him the sake with an elegance he’s sure no one else could pull off. Then, once the dish is entirely empty, you let him tug his mask back up over his noise with a satisfied look on your face.

“You’re gonna have fun tonight,” you tell him, poking his shoulder with your free hand. And Kakashi can’t find a single word to disagree with you - he simply offers you a smile from behind his mask and finally lets his walls crack a little.

“Okay,” he tells you softly, and lets you take his elbow and guide him further into the party. “Fine.”

The little voice in his head hums. What’s the worst that can happen?

This is the worst that could ever happen.

Kakashi is honestly starting to think that he’s been cursed. Maybe someone has cast a jutsu on him, dooming him to a lifetime of unwanted boners. Or maybe he’s under a genjutsu, from someone determined to ruin his mental stability and self-confidence.

Either way, he wants to die just a bit right now. And it’s all your fault.

It’s been a couple of hours since he arrived and Asuma’s birthday celebrations have become all the more rowdy. It’s not just Iruka dancing on the table top anymore; Guy and Kotatsu have joined him. And despite the fact that Kakashi has consumed far more sake than he should have by now, the situation isn’t getting any less fun.

You’d disappeared for a while after dragging him into the fray to socialise. He hasn’t minded too much; actually, he was almost glad because it gave him a concrete reason to pull his eyes away from the bare skin of your neck. And for a short time, he’d just relaxed - as much as he possibly could - and drank sake and chatted with the limited few people he called his friends.

Only now, you’ve reappeared again. Kakashi can see you as you weave your way through the crowd. You’re still a little wobbly on your feet but there's a look in yours eyes that Kakashi recognises. It’s sharp, intent, backed with purpose and resolve. And Kakashi gets the strangest feeling it’s focussed on him.

He might cower away if he didn’t know you any better. Might shrink back in fear of those eyes you’ve fixed him with. Maybe that’d actually be the smarter option. But Kakashi’s lifestyle has turned him into somewhat of a sick and twisted person, so when he sees the expression on your face, which he knows means certain doom for him and his fragile masculine ego, he stands his ground. He even looks forward to it, just a little.

Is he a masochist? Kakashi’s isn’t sure. He is pretty sure that you're a sadist though, at least a little bit.

“Kakashi,” you say once you're a couple of feet away from him and still approaching. He raises one eyebrow at you, not quite able to form any words. For just the briefest moment, your expression flickers, a flash of something like guilt passing through it. “I’m sorry for this.”

Kakashi blinks slowly. “Wha-?” he starts to ask but the question just up and dies before it can reach completion when, very suddenly, you reach for him. Your hands go to his shoulders and then slide up behind his head, until your fingers have curled into his thick hair. And Kakashi can only let out a muffle and surprised yelp before you tug his head down towards you and -

And…

For the first time in his life, Kakashi wishes he wasn’t wearing his mask. Because then he might be able to feel the way your lips are slanting over his just that much more.

You're kissing him. Totally out of the blue. Why, or really even how, Kakashi doesn’t know. His head is spinning and he can’t quite get his lungs to work properly because you're so close that he can smell your shampoo and your perfume and he can see that way your eyelashes curl against your cheeks as your eyelids flitter and he can feel the pressure of your mouth against the fabric of his mask and you're so warm and softandholyshityou’rekissinghim-?!

And then you're not. You pull away from him just as abruptly as you’d approached, and let your hands slide back to your sides. You turn to look over your shoulder at something behind you but Kakashi can’t even follow your gaze to see what it is. He’s too busy staring at you, at your face, at your cheeks and your lips, which were just on his. Your lips where just on his.

Well, technically, they were on his mask. But that's the only kind of kiss he’s ever experienced, so he's going to let it slide.

You keep looking at what ever is behind you for a while before finally, you turn back around to face Kakashi. And then you offer him the most breath-takingly flustered smile he thinks he's ever seen.

“I’m sorry about that,” you mumble, rubbing at the back of your neck awkwardly. You’re avoiding his gaze, like your embarrassed, but there's still something glinting in your eyes - something Kakashi doesn't quite understand. It makes him shiver in his clothes and need to strategically adjust the way he’s standing. “I… well, there was someone here who was kind of giving me a hard time so I needed to prove a point.”

Immediately, Kakashi is on alert. “They were giving you a hard time?” he asks and his voice comes out much colder, a ghostly reminder of the killer that will forever remain dormant deep within him. You seem to pick up on it too, because your eyes widen a little and you shake your head quickly.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you tell him assuredly. “It was just a guy who I kind of had… sort of… a thing with a while back. He wanted me to go home with him and wouldn’t leave me alone until I said I had a boyfriend. And then he didn’t even believe me. So, I… well I roped you into it.” You look at the floor once more. “I’m sorry.”

Kakashi almost doesn’t hear your apology with how hard his blood is pumping in his ears. Any and all hostility has faded from his system as quickly as it had appeared and now he’s just dumbstruck… and a little touched. He had been the person you’d picked as your pretend boyfriend? Him? Kakashi Hatake?

“Can’t say I’m not flattered,” he says, almost a little shy. “And don’t worry, if it helped you then it's fine. Is he gone?”

You look back over your shoulder. Then you shake your head. “He’s still there, hanging around in that corner.” You look back at Kakashi. “But I’m not gonna bother with him anyone. I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“You would?” Kakashi asks mildly, physically restraining his body from shaking as his mind screams out in tandem with his words; you would???? Me?????

You give him a happy nod.

“Uh huh. Always.”

Kakashi thinks he dies a little on the inside.

“W-well, as long as I’m not too boring for you.”

“You're not, don’t worry,” you tell him cheerily. Then you send him a wink that almost knocks out his knees completely. “Although, if I have anything more to drink, you might need to walk me home.”

Kakashi answers without thinking. “I’ll be walking you home anyway.”

“Wha-?” You blink, surprised, before your mouth curves up into a hopefully smile. “Really? You will?”

Kakashi shrugs, trying his best to be nonchalant. It’s not like he’s never walked you home before. But he’s never done it with you considerably drunk and him sporting a very difficult-to-ignore hard on. “Of course,” he tells you. “Minato-sensei would have my head if I didn’t and you know it.”

You turn, putting your back to the room but keeping your eyes on him as you lean just a little forward on the bar. Something flashes through your expression and then your smile turns from sweet to downright wily. A shiver runs up Kakashi’s spine once again and he has to cough and adjust his position once more.

You lean in a little, your eyelids fluttering low. “Yah know, Kashi,” you tell him in a voice he knows only he will ever hear. “I’m pretty sure there's a lot of things my dad would have your head for nowadays."

Then you leans back away from him and turn to look towards the bartender to order another drink, leaving Kakashi to stand and stare mildly into space as his head spins.

There's only one thought bouncing around his small brain - she knows.

She knows. She knows she knows she knows she knowsheknowsheknowsheknows-

You know.

You have known for a while actually.

Kakashi Hatake is a great shinobi. One of the best of his generation, a prodigy right from the moment he even knew what it meant to be a shinobi. The infamous copy ninja of the Leaf, disciple of the Yellow Flash and sensei of the last Uchiha. Master of a thousand jutsu and your friend since childhood.

He can see so many things with his sharingan. And yet he's so blind when it comes to himself.

Kakashi Hatake is exceedingly obvious. And you've been messing with him for months.

It started our as an honest mistake. That time when you'd walked into the mixed onsen, your face warm and your heart still racing from the near death experience you'd had between Anko's breasts, the absolute last thing on your mind was toying with your old friend. You truly hadn't realised he was there, not until you'd stepped into the bathing area and spotted him.

You had wanted to turn around and leave as soon as you realised the bath wasn't empty. But that would have been very rude because, unfortunately for you, Kakashi saw you at the same moment you saw him.

Looking back now, though, you're glad you hadn’t up and left. Because the last few months have been oh so entertaining for you personally.

Kakashi is down bad. And you know all about it.

Of course, that's not to say it isn’t mutual. You would never, not ever , dream of acting like this if you didn’t like him back. That’d be cruel and selfish, both of which you can be but none of which you have a capacity for when it comes to Kakashi. What you are is sick and tired of waiting.

Kakashi is your first and only love. And you are his. You’ve been aware of both of these facts for years at this point, since before your parents were both killed protecting your little brother. It’d actually been on that very night - one of the only nights you and Kakashi had off from ANBU duty in weeks, during which you’d chosen to get ramen together - that you’d realised your true feelings. Unfortunately for both of you, the timing had been absolutely awful.

It’d taken you years to pull yourself out of the pit you’d fallen into after the night of the Nine Tails attack and the deaths of your parents. And then it had taken you even longer to extract yourself from the webs of darkness which had grown around you during your time as a Root Member. But you’d done it eventually, and found Kakashi waiting for you at the other end, finally able to accept you as a close companion once more.

So while, yes, Kakashi may get off on the technically of the fact that the both of you were living through a waking hell for a number of years in your recent past, this has still very much been a long time coming. A long, long time.

You plan hadn’t fully formed until you’d done a joined mission with him to the Land of Iron, a few weeks after the first seed of the idea was planted in your brain. It was on that mission that you’d been able to iron out the finer details in your mind and set up a concrete goal for yourself.

Kakashi in infamous around the village, and even throughout the shinobi world, for having a resolve as strong as steel. And you were going to see how far that resolve was able to bend until it eventually snapped.

To Kakashi’s credit, he’s done well. Very well. You’d honestly thought that stunt you pulled during the mission with him and Tenzo would have been enough to break him. But he’d held out and even now, a week after you full on kissed him at Asuma’s surprise parry, he still has yet to burst his way through the front door of your flat and take you against a wall.

He wants to though. Oh, gods, he wants to. You can see it in his face every time the pair of you make eye contact.

Your patience is starting to run thin now. It’s been fun but you can only do so much when you admit that, despite how entertaining it is to tease Kakashi over his crush, you’re harbouring the very same feelings towards him. And your limits are being tested .

One more try, is what you eventually decide one evening, when all your other attempts have failed and you’re left alone to sit on the roof of your apartment and stare dejectedly at the night sky. You’ll give it one more try.

And then what? A small voice in the back of your head mumbles. You’ll give up?

The thought makes you frown just a bit.

You suppose you'd like it to go away. But it's difficult to banish anything from your brain right now. Where you are, lying on the roof of your apartment, faced with nothing but the darkness of the night sky and the few stars visible between the clouds that hang low - it doesn't provide an ample number of distractions. You try to find something new to focus on, which may prevent the sudden deep sadness tugging at your gut. But nothing comes. You can only stare up to the stars and think over and over again about how this whole situation may end with you all alone once more.

Your skin is cold against the night air, so you feel it even more when an uncomfortable flush runs through your cheeks. There's a stinging in your eyes too, though it doesn't take much for you to push the feeling down - years of training, years of detachment, it's all enabled your ability to banish the emotions that well to the surface.

The thoughts that cause those emotions stay though. Those are a hit more difficult to get rid of.

Frustrated, you close your eyes and attempt to try silence your mind. You let your body go slack and then stretch out your senses one by one; hearing, smell, taste, touch, and finally the sixth sense that every shinobi holds. You're not a sensory type so you can't distinguish specific chakra signatures throughout the village. But like even shinobi village, Konoha holds a constant pool of chakra within its walls, the product of so many living in tandem with one another. It's almost as if the village had its own chakra signature and as you rest against the slates of the rooftop, you allow your body to melt into it, letting the chakra gently encase you like the soothing presence of a blanket. It calms you and reminds you of home; not just your physical home in Konohagakure but the home you'd had years ago, with your two parents and the prospect of a little brother.

"You should really be asleep, you know."

You open your eyes at the sound of the new voice and tilt your chin up just slightly to look at the figure that has appeared. Kakashi is standing a little ways up the roof from you, his posture causal but his eyes curious. He tilts his head a little when he sees you looking.

You almost snort. How is it that this man has an uncanny ability to appear whenever he's being thought of?

"Probably," you say to him in reply, looking up at the sky again. "But I couldn't."

"Oh?"

"Too much on my mind," you say quietly. Kakashi hums in understanding. Then you hear the clicks of his shoes against the slats of the roof - clicks he allows you to hear because you know he can move without a single sound if he wants to. - as he steps closer towards you.

"Are you thinking about Naruto?"

You were. That's what had brought you out here in the first place. But since then, your mind has drifted to over things. You only offer Kakashi a hum and a vague shrug in answer.

"That makes sense," Kakashi continues as he comes to a stop beside you. He remains standing but looks up at the sky too, mimicking you. "He'll be leaving with Jiraiya soon, no doubt."

"Yeah," you mumble back. You think Kakashi might glance down at you in question.

"Do you not want him to go?"

The question makes your nose wrinkle. "No… I think training with that sage pervert will do him the world of good. It's more like… well, if feels like I've only really just got him back and now he's leaving…"

"You're going to miss him," Kakashi concludes simply and you can only sigh.

"Yeah, I'm gonna miss him," you echo in a soft voice.

This time you know Kakashi looks down at you because he all but forces your gaze to meet his own when he leans forward, blocking your view of the sky. His dark eye is firm but understanding - the look of a sensei, as you've come to know it. You equal parts appreciate and hate it, since you know he picked it up from his sensei, your father.

"It's okay for you to miss him," he tells you plainly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Even with everything that's happened. It's okay for you to care about him."

You huff and turn your head away, glaring off to your right instead. "I know that."

"I don't think you do."

He's smirking at you. Smug bastard.

⁸Stop acting like you know everything about me."

"I'm not acting," Kakashi tells you softly as, finally, he drops onto his haunches to kneel next to you. "I do know everything about you. So I can read what you're feeling, unfortunately for you."

You huff out an annoyed breath and say nothing. You know he'll elaborate without a word from you anyway.

"You haven't been in Naruto's life for a long time," Kakashi says. "You've had your own reasons for keeping your distance. But that doesn't make him any less of your brother. And he'll be gone for a long time, off to train in places that will probably be dangerous. It makes sense that you'll miss him and be worried for him."

Something in your chest sinks. He really does know everything about you.

"I haven't acted like an older sister," you mumble out, noticing the stinging feeling of guilt that bursts in your chest - the same that always comes rushes up whenever you think on this particular topic. "Since he was born, I just ignored him because I was so scared he'd remind me of my parents. I don't… I don't have the right to care about him now."

"Maa, you're such an over-thinker," Kakashi tells you, almost cheeky. You can sense the kindness in his words though, and the jest, so you can smile weakly as he chuckles slightly. "I can guarantee Naruto doesn't see it that way."

"He doesn't know the full extent of it though," you point out softly. "He only looks up to me as a jounin and a mentor. He doesn't know I'm his sister."

"Even if he did, it wouldn't make a difference," Kakashi says firmly. He drops his head and his silver hair catches the faint light of the half-moon that's appeared briefly from behind a cloud. "No matter how long it's taken or how long you've spent away, the fact that you've return to his life at all would mean something to him. So don't worry about it too much."

You drape an arm over your face, hoping to appeared nonchalant but actually trying to prevent Kakashi from picking up on any of the tells that you're holding back tears.

"Geez, you're such a teacher," you grumble at him. And he reaches over to poke you in the ribs, definitely grinning behind his mask.

"Excuse you, I am a teacher."

You stick your tongue out at him because, despite being inly a few years younger than he is, you're still not as mature. And then you shift, letting your arm flop back to your side so you can stare up at the stars again.

There's a long pause, only silence between the both of you. And suddenly you get the feeling there's something more Kakashi wants to tall you.

"Why are you here?" you ask him pointedly as you try - and fail - to focus on only his chakra signature emanating from beside you. "You should be sleeping too."

You hear Kakashi snort softly in reply "I couldn't sleep either."

"Were you up reading your dime store smut?"

You think if his full face was on display, Kakashi would have given you a very very sad look.

"It's not dime store smut, it's high art. And no, actually, I was making preparations."

"Preparations?"

"For a mission," Kakashi tells you. "Lady Fifth assigned me a new mission earlier this afternoon. A rank, singular. I'm to leave tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning." Something inside you - it feels like a stone- drops very suddenly. "How long will it be?"

Usually, you wouldn't think too much of it. You're a shinobi as he is and you know the risk of leaving behind the village gates. But you also know Kakashi and his skill. Usually, you don't think there will be an issue.

But an A rank mission js difficult to accomplish entirely alone, even for the great Copy Ninja of the Leaf. And he's leaving tomorrow.

Suddenly that question from earlier comes crawling back into your mind.

"At least three weeks," Kakashi tells you then, in answer to your question. "Probably longer. I've gotta travel a long way and then stick around there for a bit."

You can't help but swallow. Three weeks…

It's not the longest you've been apart from him. But for some reason, you feel that uncomfortable tug of sadness in your gut once again.

Unexpectedly, you feel a gentle hand come down to pat the top of your head.

"Aw, are you worried about me now?"

You bat the hand away, grumbling, and then sit up properly. Kakashi's gaze remains on you as you do.

"I'm not worried ," you tell him, trying your best to sound annoyed. "You think far too highly of yourself, Lightening Boy."

Kakashi snorts from behind his mask. He reaches out to poke at your cheek this time, and you whack his hand away, almost blushing now.

"Are you saying you're gonna miss me, then?"

"I'm not saying anything."

"Maa, yous so stubborn sometimes."

You roll your eyes at him and pull your legs up against your chest. You let your chin rest on your knees as you stare out for a moment, not at the sky but now over the rooftops of Konohagakure. There's a moments pause as something swells within you.

Then, without turning your head, you say very quietly, "Just… please be careful."

Kakashi keeps quiet for a moment and you wonder if maybe he's feeling awkward. Neither of you are the type to express open affection for anyone, and that's make even more prominent when it's between the pair of you. Your pasts, so much of both entangled with each other; your time in the ANBU, the period after your parents death, joining Root, and then eventually having to learn how to live again -

You understand Kakashi and you're sure he understands you too. But there's been a line that neither of you have really crossed, despite all the flirting and teasing and provocation (from your part) on the past few months.

You turn your head, almost ready to apologise to him. Only to have the wind knocked completely from your lungs when he leans in and -

He kisses you.

Finally.

It's soft, still over his mask and little more than a press of his lips to yours but the meaning behind it, that is what knocks you flat.

Heh, got him, a little voice in the back of your mind mumbles. But you don't even care. Years, it's been years in the making. And you'd really started to think he'd just leave whatever you had together go unsaid until it was too late.

You might've teared up if the pure elation sparking through your veins didn't provide an ample distraction. And when Kakashi pulls away, opens his eyes to look at you, you can only arch one eyebrow at him in a teasing response.

"Oh?"

The corner of his eyes crinkles and you know he's smiling behind his mask.

"Don't pretend you haven't been trying to mess with me for months."

You can only snort. "Trying?" you ask him as your eyebrows go up even further. "From what I remember I was succeeding in messing with you. You're quite obvious, Kakashi."

He chuckles and reaches for you, shaking his head as he pressies his fingers into that place on either side of your ribcage that he knows makes you squirm. "Um, obvious? From what I recall, you actually threw yourself at me at one point, sweetheart. I'm not sure you can get more obvious that that."

You're giggling by now, and it only gets worse when he uses his grip on you to tug you closer to him. And then you turn your head and reach for him without a millisecond of hesitation, finally able to cup his cheek with your hand and tug him down to kiss you again.

It's still over his mask and as you find yourself leaning closer, you realise you want more.

And when Kakashi pulls away from you, his arm sliding properly around your waist to hold you in a grip firm enough you know he’s not willing to let you go without a fight, you realise he does too.

“Lets go inside,” he breathes as he lets his nose brush up against yours gently. Your hands curl into the front of his black shirt, for once more obstructed by the flax vest he usually wears.

“Okay,” you mumble. Your free hand forms the seal of confrontation as you let your chakra envelop both you and Kakashi. And then you're both gone.

When you open your eyes next, you're standing in your dark apartment, Kakashi’s arms still wrapped around your waist as he leans into you. You feel him let out a soft breath before pulling back somewhat so he can look down at you.

“I don’t think i’ll ever get used to you doing that,” he mumbles softly. And you're almost ready to laugh at him, however, he surges in before you can. His lips finds yours again, and even though it’s still over the mask, you feel it immediately - everything he was holding back before, it’s here now, boiling to the surface. With the walls of your apartment shielding the both of you from the eyes of the village, you're ready to let your guard drop further. And so is he.

Your hands slide up, along the line of his neck before your fingers tangle in his thick hair, and you let him haul you in, even closer. His hand fingers the hinge of your jaw, caressing the side of your face entirely, and you think he groans into you as one of your hands grips at the muscle of his shoulder, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.

“Kakashi,” you whisper against him. And then you pull away so you can meet his gaze once more. His gaze is dark and serious, but still so kind and full of love that your insides can’t help but do backflips. You try to face him with as much sincerity as you can.

“I want you,” you tell him simply. “Now. But also… from now on.”

You think he smiles softly. He leans his head forward and allows the cool edge of his hitai-ate to brush your forehead.

“I want you,” he echoes your words. “I have for so long.”

And you can’t help but smile back.

You've wasted so much time, you think as you stand there, just basking in his presence. So much. But, you also can’t really imagine how it could have happened any earlier.

His handgrips your waist for a moment. And then it moves, slides up your front. You tilt your chin down a little so you can watch as slowly he reaches for the zip in your flax vest. And then, when you say nothing in objection, he takes it between his fingers and gently tugs it down.

It slips down smoothly, further and further until there's nothing left and the two halves of your vest fall open. You look up at kakashi again and he looks down at you, and you think you understand what this means. You let the vest fall from your person entirely, and pull the hitai-ate from around your neck too. And then you reach up and look your fingers into the band around Kakashi’s own head. He lets you pull it up, uncovering his sharingan eye, and then off him entirely. And just like that you feel -

You feel like people, you realise slowly. Not shinobi. Just people. And maybe that's all you need to be.

After that, it’s like everything is a rush. You drag Kakashi into your bedroom with you, stumbling slightly as you kiss him hard enough to make your head spin. You drop your clothes along the way; your scandals, your packs, belt, shirt. Kakashi does the same, his things hitting the floor with soft thuds in his wake. Neither of you care about the mess when you finally reach your bedroom, and then you get to shove Kakashi down onto your bed so he’s looking up at you in awe; one black and and one red blinking through the darkness.

You watch him watch you as you strip away the rest of what you're wearing. You pull your hair from its tie and let it hang loose around your face, and then you slide your pants down your legs and kick them away. You remain in your underwear as you step forward and reach for Kakashi once more. And he leans up to you, pressing his forehead into yours as your fingers work with the few remaining clothes on his body. His trousers, kicked away somewhere into the darkness. And then his undershirt with his mask attached.

You’ve seen his face before. There aren’t many people who have and you're lucky enough to have been considered trustworthy enough by Kakashi that he’s let you peek at what's beneath his mask. But it’s only ever been fleeting glimpses, short moments when he tugs it down for whatever reason and then yanks it back up soon after. This, now, as your hands drop and you let him tug his undershirt off, is entirely different. As the shirt comes off, the mask does too - not just tugged away, but off entirely. For the very first time, he’s totally exposed to you. And once he throws the shirt to join the rest of your clothes somewhere on the floor, you realise that there isn’t an option to go back anymore. He can'y just tug the fabric back up over his nose to hide himself when he wants to - you can see him now.

It makes your heart ache as you get to look down at him, at his whole face with nothing in the way. You get to place your hands on either side of his jaw, get to watch the way his hair falls forward, no longer obstructed by his headband. This is entirely him, nothing left to be uncovered. And when you lean in, let your eyelids slip closed and press your mouth into his without his mask for the first time you get to taste him - finally.

From the moment your tongue slides against his, you know you're gone.

Kakashi lets out what almost sounds like a whimper as his hands slide up the skin of your waist, and you think he feels it too. There's a yearning for him tugging so deep in your gut that now, you can honestly not understand why it took you so long to get to this. Why you spent months messing with him, why he spent months resisting you - you don’t know. You all but melt against him, let him drag you down on top of him as he falls back on the bed until all of his front is pressed to all of yours. One of his hands curls itself into your hair, caressing your head with a finality that you know means neither of you are ever going back from this. And you can only grab at the bedsheets by his shoulder with one hand and hold his face with the other as you desperately wish to just fall into him entirely.

“Kakashi," you whine into his mouth. And he signs your name in reply, soft and sweet. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut so you don't accidentally cry, makes you moan at the feeling of his tongue lining your lips, make your hips roll so you can grind down onto him totally on instinct.

You both choke at the feeling - you're only in underwear, you remember now. You and him. And he’s hard against your thigh, and you're dripping against his. A shiver rushes up your spine.

“You're okay?” Kakashi mumbles to you then, pulling back just a little so he can look up at you with so much love in his eyes your chest feels tight. “You're okay, right?”

You nod, even though your heart is pounding and your breaths are shaky. You are okay.

“You're okay?” you ask him in response. And he nods too. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “Okay.”

Then you lean down to kiss him again, and this time neither of you hold back at all. You let your pelvis roll, press your lower body into his so that you can feel him, hard and hot, between your legs, even through the layers of your underwear and his. And he lets his hips thrust up, pressing closer to you, stimulating you both enough to make you moan headily into his kiss.

“Kakashi,” you mumble again and again as you feel his hand trace down your back. It tugs at the straps of your bra and you don\t hesitant to drag an arm back so you can snap the clasp open. Kakashi inhales sharply at the feeling and then lets his hand spread out across your whole back, pressing into your warm, and now entirely bare, skin. He whispers your names to you, softly, and then wraps his arms around your waist. And then, without warning, he sits up, pushing you with him.

You let him maneuver you. Let him pull back to rid you of your bra entirely. Let him bury his nose in your neck as he drags a hand down your front in exploration. You arch your back into him when he palms one of your breasts, his whole hand able to fit around it. You arch your spine and roll your hips more, breath hitching with the way his hard on presses against your clit. And all the while, Kakashi kisses up your neck, mumbling soft words into your skin.

“Thought about you,” he whispers softly. “F’so long. Wanted you f’so long.” His fingers pinch your nipple and you yip. “You're so distracting, always. Been teasing me f’months and made is so fucking difficult to be around you.”

You smile, your eyes tight shut as you let your head hang back so he has more skin to work with. Your smile only grows when he nips at your pulse point.

“Wanted you to notice me,” you whisper into the quiet air of the bedroom. “Wanted you to - see me. N-not like a sister.”

Kakashi chuckles before he runs his tongue up your jugular. It sends a shiver down your spine and you pull him closer. “I haven’t seen you like a sister since I woke up from a wet dream about you when I was thirteen,” he admits and you almost laugh. Almost, if you didn’t understand him completely.

You tilt your head down again, using the grip you have in his hair to tug him back from your neck. His sharingan gleams when he blinks up at you, memorising everything, and for a brief moment you wish you had a sharingan of your own so you could do the same. So you could burn this image of him into your mind forever.

“You're mine,” you can only tell him instead as you touch your forehead to his. “Mine.”

“Always,” is what he responds. And so you kiss him before you can get any more emotional.

The grinding goes further, your hips rocking against his and his against yours as you actively seek pleasure now. He's so hard beneath you that just like this, just dry humping, is probably enough to get you off. There's a pressure on your clit that makes you push into him further. And he can only moan in response as he twitches beneath you, hard and aching enough that you can practically feel it.

“Please,” he groans to you then, breaking your kiss to hide his face back in your neck. “Sweetheart, I… please .”

“Kakashi,” you whimper in reply as your nails scratching up his back. He just about growls into your neck in response.

Your hips turn more frantic, your clit catching on his cock over and over. You can feel him trembling beneath and it makes you moan, aloud and unabashed. You let him put his hands on your hips, gripping them so he can move you as he likes and entirely control the movement of your lower bodies. You let him trail kisses down your neck and shoulder, throw your head back to give him more room even. And then as he drops his head down further to suck one of your nipples between his lips, you can only squeal in delight as sparks shoot up and your spine and your toes curl, and you realise you’re actually about to come.

“Kakashi,” you moan as your pussy pulses in time with the sucks he gives to your nipple. “Don’t stop - don’t stop! Fuck-!”

He moans against you, not stopping in the slightest, and you think his thrusting is getting sloppy too. His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to probably leave bruises and you almost scream. You spine arches as your orgasm crashes through you so suddenly it completely knocks the wind from your lungs.

Kakashi releases your nipple with a pop and then buries his face in your chest. “Shit,” he mumbles, obviously feeling the way you shiver in his arms. “Sweetheart - baby - shit shit shit- ”

You grind down on him, even in your haze and even when it makes your entire body jump with overstimulation. And you feel as Kakashi reaches his climax too, his cock pulsing again and again enough to make you moan even harder.

You hold him close to you for a long time, refusing to let him go as you gradually drop back down to reality and he follows shortly after. And even then it takes you a while to slow your pounding heart, so you pull away just enough to drop your head and kiss him again.

He kisses back just as fervently and you know, you know, he’s not done with you. Thank the gods, is all you can think as his fingers wind into your hair. Because I’m not done with him either.

Kakashi doesn’t separate from you, even as he winds his arms securely around your waist and flips the both you. He doesn’t separate from you even as he presses you down into your own mattress and settles himself between your bent legs. It's only when you start to squirm again, desperate for him to touch you more, that he draws back. And then you see the smile on his lips and the gleam in his eye.

“Wanna taste you,” he whispers as he kisses down your jaw to the line of your neck. “Please, let me taste you.” You feel his fingers hooking into the band of your panties. You can only lift for hips a little in response and Kakashi all but moans in appreciation when he realises. He tugs your panties down and slides his own body down with them, until his broad shoulders have slipped past your hips and he's in a position where you could crush his head between your thighs if you wanted to.

You don’t want to. Although, for some reason you get the sense he probably couldn’t be at all opposed even if you did.

Kakashi presses his cheek up against the soft skin of your inner thigh for a moment as he blinks up at his, his eyes - usually so sad - now full of love. There's a moment of silence as you lift yourself up to balance on your elbows and you just look at each other, realising and appreciating.

And then Kakashi leans in, sealing his lips to your pussy and it's all you can do to let your had fall back as a sweet whine falls from your lips. You're still so, so sensitive. And Kakashi is ruthless as he licks up the entirety of you before sucking your clit between his teeth with a growl.

“Fuck,” he mumbles between obscene slurping sounds that’d make you blush like a virgin if you heard them in any other context. “Sweetheart, you're - y’taste so fucking good - baby-”

“Kashi,” you choke because gods, he’s good. His tongue circles your clit, almost demanding a he draw whines and whimpers from your lips, and you can only card your fingers through his hair hope you don’t just die before you get to come again.

Kakashi must know what you're thinking because he lets out a soft chuckle and draws back just by a few millimetres. “You're so wet,” he whispers, teasing. “Fucking dripping . This all for me?”

“F’you,” you stumble out, your toes curling when he lick a slow stripe up your cunt. “Only for you- Kakashi!”

“You're so sweet t’me,” Kakashi mumbles. He removes one hand from where he was holding your thigh and slides two long fingers into you. There's no resistance - you're soaked, and you can only bite your tongue and try not to scream as he stretches your walls so deliciously you see stars. “So fucking good. So perfect, sweetheart.” he kisses your inner thigh briefly. “Want you to come f’me, okay? Wanna see how beautiful you are when you come.”

There are actual tears beading in your eyes now, tears of both frustration and pure overstimulation. You're so close all over again but there's something else you need, something more. And Kakashi obviously knows this, with the gleam hidden in his eyes.

“Please,” you whimper as you force yourself to look down at him again. “Please, please, Kashi, make me - make me come! Want it, please, wanna come f’you.”

His fingers curl within you, again and again, making your spine arch upwards in ecstasy. He gives you a small smile, one so soft you feel like you melt a bit on the inside. Then he kisses your thigh again.

“My sweetheart,” he mumbles into your skin, his eyelashes fluttering as he closes his eyes for just a moment. “-ove you.”

Then he seals his mouth to your cunt once more, slurping at your clit while his fingers continue to thrust up inside you. Everything that's built until now suddenly snaps once more and you collapse backwards onto your bed, your entire body shaking as your orgasm crashes through you. Kakashi moans into your pussy at the feeling, mumbling praise as he uses his fingers to fuck you through it. And it's only once you've stopped clenching around him that he draws away from you. He kisses your thigh one last time before crawling back up you body. And when he raises his hand to you, you take his fingers into your mouth with greed, sucking at them with a fervour that makes him groan. They taste like you, dripping with your slick as they are, and when you eventually let them go and pull Kakashi down to kiss you, the flavour explodes over your tongue even more. It makes you moan with how fucking filthy it is, and even though you’ve already come twice, it makes you wet all over again.

“Fuck me,” you demand from Kakashi when he breaks away from you, your voice so whiny it almost most doesn’t sound like you. “Please please please, need it - need you in me, Kakashi-!”

He yanks off his own underwear without saying a word, fire sparking in his eyes. Then he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips once again as he settles his body back over yours.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbles as you relax back with him above you, basking in the warmth he exudes. “You're so gorgeous.”

“Please,” you whisper to him. And thank the gods he obliges.

He’s so warm as he slides into you, and you're so sensitive, that you both end up mewling against each other. His hand finds yours at some point and he presses it back into the bedsheets, twisting his fingers into yours so tightly you're not sure you could let go if you tried. He uses his other arm to hold himself up so he can rest his forehead on your shoulder and watch as his cock sinks into you. And you can only cling to his back with your free hand, digging your fingernails into his skin and whimpering as he penetrates your body.

He's big enough that you need time to adjust, even after having come twice, and thankfully he gives you that. His hips still once he's bottomed out and he turns his head to press soft kisses into your temple as you whine with how full you feel. There's something more to this than just sex, you think as you scrabble at his shoulders and press the bridge of your nose into his shoulder. There's a deeper connection than just the physical. You can’t quite put it into words though, so you just kiss along his skin, hoping he feels it too.

When Kakashi eventually starts thrusting - first shallow and light and then getting deeper and harder - you can see stars popping behind your eyelids. He's always been a powerful being, from the moment you'd first met back when you were both just young children, but this is the first time you're getting to see his power outside of shinobi related activities. His muscles are rippling, his chakra energised and buzzing, and you get the feeling that he could destroy you if he wanted to.

You also get the feeling though, that he doesn’t want to. And that somehow makes your head spin even more.

You moan his name, over and over again, punctuated by small squeaks when the head of his cock nudges up against the spot inside you that drives you insane. And he replies with murmurs of your own name, mixed with praise and pleas.

“Feel so good,” he tells you softly as his hips snap into yours. You hooks your legs around his waist to pull him close. “So fucking good, sweetheart. S’warm and wet and tight round my cock, shit - feel good for me, please, baby, feel so fucking good-”

You want all of him. After years and years of pain and pining, you want every molecule of his being to saturate your own now. You don't want him to ever leave, you don’t ever want to leave him. And now there are actually tears dropping down your temples and into your hairline as you pull his lips down to yours again and kiss him with everything you have. Kakashi kisses you back, letting your tongue slide over his, tasting you, and you can feel it when he squeezes your hand reassuringly - he understands it all, he knows. His hips speed up in their rhythm as the desperation for each other kicks into both of you, and then you're moaning, you and him, as static seems to rush through your veins.

“Fuck-” you choke, gripping his hand tight enough that he'll probably have nails indents in the skin below his knuckles. “Gonna - shit - gonna come!”

“Please,” Kakashi whispers. “Please, please, please, sweetheart, come for me. Fucking - s’okay, yeah. Let go f’me.”

Your entire body seems to spasm, your legs trembling violently and your head tilting back. It rushes up through your gut and for a second you're seeing stars as the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had rips through your body. Your pussy clenches, pulsing hot and wet and you can hear Kakashi moaning through the feeling as his own hips jump. He squeeing your hand once again and then fucks you through the pleasure, his hips pounding into yours again and again and again as he chases his own high and prolongs yours. More tears roll down your face but you don't even care - you can only cling to your lover as finally, he gives one last roll of his hips and then buries himself inside you as he releases, groaning long and low in your ear.

He raises his head to kiss you after a short moment of silence then, so much softer and more gentle this time. His grip on your hand loosens but remains, and you can feel his thumb stroking along your skin comfortingly. At the same time, you wind your other hand into his hair, not pulling anymore but just stoking at his scalp. He chases your lips when you eventually pull back from him and it makes you giggle just a little. Suddenly, you feel light than air.

“I love you,” you tell him very softly as he lets his forehead rest against yours. “I love you so much.”

Kakashi blinks. Maybe he’s surprised that you've admitted it so boldly. And then he smiles.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he says in a voice that makes sparks dance through your stomach. “I love you.”

You pull him in for another kiss and have to give yourself very strict instructions not to cry.

When he pulls away, you nudge your nose against his somewhat playfully. “So, you wanna go shower?”

Kakashi arches a silver eyebrow at you, the glint returning to his eye. “Shower? Why?”

You give him a blank look. “Because we’re both gross and sticky and I refuse to go to sleep like this.”

“Sleep?” Kakashi mumbles, the corner of his lips curling in a soft smirk. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but no one is going to sleep just yet.” He leans in to nip at your earlobe and you squeak. “You teased me for months , there's no way I’m letting you off the hook just like that. We still have five hours before I need to leave and I intend not to waste a single second.”

A shiver runs up your spine and when you meet his gaze again, you can tell that he's dead serious. Butterflies flood your stomach as the corners of your mouth twitch upwards. “Oh,” is all you can say, it it makes Kakashi chuckle deeply.

Oh shit.

Please.

#💙 blue's fics #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #hatake kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #naruto fics #naruto

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