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gretavanlace · 10 months

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Debauchery Defined

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, masturbation, dirty talk, dangerous situations, oral sex (m/rec), illegal activity (traffic related), etc. jake in a hat briefly - cause that shit deserves a warning. Probably typos, excessive italics as per usual, blah blah blah

“I’m sorry, sir, I have nothing under the name of Kiszka.”

The bored attendant, slouched upon a stool beneath an Enterprise sign, doesn’t even have the decency to sound mildly apologetic.

The sign is bright. Too bright for the hour. Too bright for the weary, sleep deprived, burn in your eyes. Just too bright.

Judging by the furrow in his brow, despite his ever present sunglasses, Jake shares your contempt for the fluorescent glow.

“I made a reservation days ago.” You reiterate, spelling his last name once more. Turns out, it’s a lesson in futility, as the clerk doesn’t even bother to type it in.

“I told you,” he snaps, fixing you with a glare. You sense he thinks it reeks of authority. It doesn’t. “There’s no rental reservation. Spell the name all night long if you feel like it, but it isn’t going to change anything.”

Jake, in a smooth rush, is leaned in closer - serpentine and quick in his movement. Yet, calculated, careful, eerily calm in that unsettling way he adopts when irritation is trudging toward anger.

His warning comes quietly, but it bears a menacing aura all the same. “Speaking to her that way is ill advised, I can promise you that.”

Your hand finds his arm, stroking soothingly through the worn hopsack of the blazer he layered on, hours ago, before your flight. “Jake, it’s alright.”

Never aggressive just for show, and certainly never overtly so, when Jacob feels someone is crossing a line with you, he is quick to polish his armor - a knight sweeping in to save his damsel in distress.

He relaxes visibly beneath your touch and navigates back to civility with a deep breath.

“Alright…” he flicks a glance at the name tag that rests crookedly on the other man’s shirt “Tyler. So you don’t have the reservation - we need a car. You have cars. Simple. Why is this an issue?”

He’s tired, and cranky…a long day of travel has leeched the patience from his bones.

Tyler, likely used to overwhelmed travelers frequenting the airport kiosk, remains unimpressed. “I have one available vehicle. Luxury class. Reserved for our most discerning clients.”

Jake rolls his eyes, clearly teetering on the edge of asking this asshole if he’d like to taste the back of his hand. “As it happens, I am discerning. How lucky for us. We’ll take it.”

Papers are signed, keys are exchanged, and finally, you’re schlepping through the hall leading to Parking garage B7, as instructed.

“Luxury for discerning clients.” He scoffs, hefting his bag, and yours, over his shoulder, though you continue to insist you can share the load.

His battered guitar case swings against his legs as he stomps along, “What an asshole. S’probably some boat of a Lincoln or something…I’m gonna look like a pimp.”

The wide-brimmed hat cocked low over his shades will be most fitting, then, won’t it?

Laughing at his dramatics - not so different from his twin, after all - you watch the doors whoosh open to reveal a deserted sea of concrete. Deserted that is, save for one lone sports car waiting beneath a flickering light.

You both stop short. “Or a frat boy douchebag.”

“Frat boys can’t afford cars like that.” You correct, nudging him to get moving.

He picks up the pace dutifully, “So, just a douchebag, then?”

“Yes, yes, Jacob…you’re very refined and everybody knows it.” You tease, ever the soft heart for his antiquated flare. “If anyone sees you, we’ll just explain that your horse and buggy are in the shop.”

His eyes rove across the lines of the car as you approach. Slyly sweeping over the glossy, black curves, almost hidden below the mysterious shadow of his hat.

“I’ll drive.” He mutters as if it’s no big deal, startling your feet to a standstill.

Never, not once, in the entirety of all the time you’ve known him has he ever offered to drive. In fact, now that you’re exploring the subject, you don’t think you’ve ever even seen him so much as graze a finger over a steering wheel.

“Do you…” you pause to collect your jumbled thoughts. “Do you even have a driver’s license?”

It seems strange, all at once - that you’ve never wondered about this before.

“What?” He laughs, finally shaking off the annoyance he’s been wearing on his shoulders for a few too many hours.

You wait while he presses a button on the key fob, opening the trunk with a smooth hiss, asking “well, do you?” as he dumps the bags, and his Gibson, inside.

You’ve seen him present identification hundreds of times, but you can’t recall it ever being anything but his passport.

“Purse in the boot or up front with you, darling?” He asks with an exaggerated swagger and flourish.

“Stop avoiding the question, Jacob.” You sigh, folding your arms as he slings your purse over his shoulder, abandoning Oliver, and moving to open the passenger side door for you. “Do you or don’t you?”

He waits until you’ve settled and then bends at the waist, offering a forehead kiss, and a secret. “I don’t. You wanna break a few rules with me, hall monitor?”

You feel your eyes widen as if he’s just confessed to casual murder for sport.

But you tamp it down and take hold of some perspective, this isn’t murder. Still, you don’t like it.

“Jake, don’t drag me into your debauchery. If you want to endanger the lives of hundreds of unsuspecting motorists, you can do it alone.”

In response, he swings the door closed and jogs around the sloping, gleaming hood, slipping into the driver’s seat, gentle and sleek as a sleepy housecat.

“I never said I didn’t know how to drive, baby,” he tosses his hat in the back and shakes out his waves, “just that I failed to revisit the DMV when ‘the man’ said my time was up.”

“This is stupid.” You slide down in your seat, careful not to reveal how much you’re enjoying the supple leather coasting along the backs of your thighs where your shorts have ridden up.

The opulence is an undeniable high. One you wouldn’t have expected, but there all the same.

He grins to himself, face lit up, beautiful and bright, like a little boy in a toy store. “Debauchery,” his voice is smooth as whipping cream. Smoky. Lazy. Like he plays behind the wheel of a flashy Porsche every day. “Immoral behavior that involves sex, drugs, alcohol, etcetera.”

“What?” You’ve begun to relax already. He is skillfully maneuvering the vehicle through the twists and turns of the garage. Okay, so maybe he does know how to drive.

“Debauchery. That’s what it means. It isn’t this.” He waves a hand, absently calling attention to the car. “But don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours, my love. I’ll have you dragged down into the thick of it soon enough.”

Leaning back against the headrest, you decide to give into his whim and enjoy the ride. It’s lovely to be able to strip off the stress of the day and let him take over the department of transportation, for once.

As you study him, with the hum of the road and the purring engine serving as white noise, you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips.

“Jacob Kiszka,” you allow your grin to widen as it will, “I never would’ve guessed you’d be such a guy.”

He grabs for your hand, pleased that - as luck would have it - he has been blessed behind the wheel of an automatic…the absence of a gear shift leaves him open to holding onto you, and you are his favorite thing to hold.

“What are you on about?” Oliver pops in to say hello again, as is habit when Jake feels a bit too on the spot.

“Never once have you wanted to drive,” you remind him, lacing your fingers through his. “No matter how many times I tease you for being a passenger princess. Wave one fast car with a pretty paint job under your nose and you’re swimming in testosterone.”

A soft laugh is his only response as he coaxes out onto the freeway.

“You look good behind the wheel, baby. You know that?” Your free hand toys with a lock of his hair, smoothing it and twirling it around your pinky.

“I look good, always.” he sighs, feigning boredom as he weaves in and out of traffic to find his desired lane.

The further away from the hub of the city you drive, the more traffic begins to dissipate, until you seem to be adrift along some dystopian highway time has forgotten.

“How long?” You ask softly.

Staring out the window at the scenery whipping by sounds lulling, you might even fall asleep to it, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, and this calm, capable, skill set you never knew he possessed.

How like him to keep you on your toes, sharing bits and pieces of himself little by little. Doling out tiny Jacob Thomas shaped morsels only when he sees fit.

“Who cares how long?” He glances up at nothing in the rear view mirror. “This is nice.”

“It is.” You agree. Allowing the silence to wrap up warmly around you both again.

You watch him. And you watch him. And you watch him some more.

And you’d help it, if you could. Honest. The timing is most inappropriate. Not to mention, likely a little dangerous, but something about watching him command all that power beneath his hands has you weak. Submissive. Needy.

In moments of weakness in the dark, you’ve confessed that you feel the same watching him play. The way he makes love to his well worn and loved guitar. The way he coaxes sex soaked wails and whines from the strings, working his fingers faster and faster along the frets until the climax crashes apart, exploding into sound where there once was quiet.

The way he talks to her, the way he loves her. The way he knows her body just a little better than he knows yours, or even his own. It all makes you a bit jealous in the most decadent way. It makes you eager to showcase your worth as well, to sink to your knees in service to this god walking around amongst men.

He holds a brand new power and you want to slink into his lap and mewl like a kitten starved for attention. Instead, you settle for moving in closer, brushing a feathery kiss against his neck, nuzzling into the crook of it, unabashedly brazen with your want.

“Hello, my love.” His eyes never stray from the road, but his hand wanders your thigh, welcoming you. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m wet.” It’s a simple admission, but the way you hush it in his ear causes his cock to stir. It takes so little from you to pluck at his edges until he’s unraveling at the seams.

“Why’s that?” He adjusts in his seat, spreading his thighs just enough to make your head spin. “All I’m doing is driving a car. Is that all it takes?”

“Sometimes.” You sound pouty. It’s hardly there at all, but he hears it and he loves it. His spoiled rotten sweetheart.

“Well, I’m a little busy, love.” He slides his hand higher, silently wishing you had chosen a skirt today. “But you go on and be sweet to that pretty pink place I love so well. I miss your pussy, baby…it’s been such a long day. Miss the way you feel, the way you smell, the way you taste. I want you all over my face, fuck. Touch yourself.”

“Right here in the car?” You suck his earlobe into your mouth and the nibble over it as if he is an indulgent treat, because he is.

“Yeah.” He nods, grip tightening around the steering wheel, “Right here in the car.”

Maybe some other time you might toy with him a bit, dangle the string just out of his reach, but you’re further off track than he is at this point, so you shimmy out of your shorts and slide out of your sandals to rest your toes on the dash. Your knees fall apart as your fingers disappear into your panties with the tiniest moan when your fingers brush over your clit.

“Aren’t you such a good girl?” He pats at your thigh in praise, burying his grip into the soft, warm flesh there. Filthy, fucking dirty little thing, touching her pretty, wet cunt in a car we don’t even own just because I asked. So good, baby. Who’s my well behaved, darling girl?”

Sometimes you think his need to praise you rivals your own deep-rooted lust for receiving it.

“I’m your good girl.” You breathe, writhing slowly in your seat, drawing in the scent of sex and Italian leather, laced with the faintest hint of his cologne. It has faded with the hours, handing the spiced teakwood over to something a little more Jake…this is when you love it best.

“Then be my good girl and come over here. Come see me, sweetheart.” He extends an arm, casually inviting you in. You know what he wants, and you plan to give it to him.

For a moment, you're both illuminated in the golden glow of headlights traveling along across the median…he looks like the slickest snake masquerading as an angel. A serpent in the garden, ever tempting and cunning.

It’s all a front, as you well know. A role he plays when he wants to make you quake with desire. His heart is soft and kind, ever mindful of others, ever stuffed full of unending empathy and thoughtful love.

Unbuckling your seatbelt with a click that makes him frown, you slide over to the very edge and toy with the clasp of his belt, panting hot little puffs of breath against his flushed cheek, if only to stir him up further.

“You want that?” He lifts into your touch so you can feel how hard he is, all for you.

“Yeah,” tiny pecks of your lips chart his jawline. “Yeah, I want that.”

“Say it.” His fingers are in your hair now, curling into a loose fist near the nape of your neck, pushing you down. “Say you want my cock. Say where you want it.”

You’re hurrying now, tenderly fumbling with the buckle, hungry and desperate for it. “I want your cock, Jake. Want it in my mouth…in my throat.”

“Fuck…” it growls out of him strangled and tangled up with hot, salacious, greed. “C’mon, baby.”

You long to preen with pride; he wants it so badly, so suddenly - but there are more pressing matters at hand.

Both hands on the wheel now, he watches as you sink down around him, swallowing him so deeply, and with no real warm up, that you gag, sucking him down further anyway as you retch and sputter around his length, throat both fighting the intrusion and pining for more of it.

“Slow down.” His warning grits out through his teeth. He didn’t want to say it at all, slow is the last thing he wants. He wants to float off into it, stare focused and sure on the road, thoughts lost in the way you sound fighting around his cock, sucking and lapping over him, dying for just a little more, just another taste….

You shake your head adamantly, sending your soft, wet tongue slicking back and forth just along the base, nearly nudging at his balls as they tighten up for you. Every reaction his body hands over is all for you. Always for you.

“Fuck, baby,” his right hand drops to pet at your glossy hair as he fucks up into your kiss. “Gonna make me cum in that pretty little mouth. Feels so fuckin’ good. You want it?”

Nodding urgently, you bury your nose into the soft path of hair that trails below his belly button, choking until your throat is squeezed around him, strangling the thick head of his throbbing cock.

He’s twitching against your lips now, straining and pulsing, fucking throbbing. Obscene and depraved. Perfect.

“M’close, baby,” he’s murmuring raspy, stuttering, pleas as his grip tightens until your scalp stings blissfully. “Keep going, just like that, so close…baby, baby, baby, fuck…”

He’s whining and babbling, broken curses and hissing encouragement that barely makes sense. You couldn’t love it more.

Hollowing your cheeks, you suck hard on the updrawn and then relax your throat, plunging him straight to the back of it in one harsh go with a guttural sound that makes his thighs jerk.

You feel the slight hitch in the gas as he loses his footing on the pedal, and soothe him with a palm swept under his shirt until you can feel his heart hammering against your palm.

He regains focus - you can feel it - and then whispers a soft, “Thank you, sweet girl.” Grateful that your wits have prevailed when his own were waning.

You linger at the base, licking at what you can with his heavy weight cradled in your tongues embrace. He flexes violently, and you brace for it, gluttonous for the warmth of his release, and with a groan and gasp of your name, he doesn’t disappoint.

“Gonna cum, baby,” oh, he sounds so pretty. Trotting out the tiny whimpers that are saved for when he’s really lost in it. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, dontstopdontstopdontstop, fuck fuck fuck—“

Your taste buds dance with him, alive with the delicacy that is Jacob. So warm and perfect, covering your tongue, rolling down your throat, until you can feel him inside you, really inside you, in the way you love most.

He’s a mess above you, but you carry on until he is whining with overstimulation and begging you to stop, lightly pulling you away until you can just barely lap over his glistening tip as he softens against his splayed open pants.

You know he’s thinking of all the ways he plans to return the favor when he can properly get his hands on you, but as he catches his breath beside you and steals glances at you tucking his beautiful cock away, you feel completely, totally, blissfully, satisfied.

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redlittlefoxari · 4 months

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To The Ends Of Faêrun : Chapter one: Happy Little Family

This is series two of a fic I have already written.

Master List

Relationship: Astarion x Tav

Warnings: Blood, Sex, Violence, NSFW 18+, Smut

Summary: The year is 1548 it’s fifty-six years after Tav and Astarion defeated the elder brain with their rag-tag group of friends. So much has changed since then Astarion changed careers and is now a tailor while Tav runs the counter. While their daughter attends Gale’s School of Wizardry. That's right their daughter. Everything is going smoothly until something dark threatens to destroy all of Faerûn and it's up to Astarion, Tav, and their Daughter to stop it from happening.

Being a parent to a Dhampir was not the easiest thing in the world. Over the last six years, Tav and Astarion had their fair share of ups and downs when it came to raising Apple, Starting at only eight months old when, after a short nap, Apple had decided that playing on the ceiling was better than waiting in her crib for Tav and Astarion to wake. A simple message to Gale to get some perspective on Apple's new magical abilities and simple solutions before something could indeed be done about them. Apple was only an infant, so her magical abilities were more challenging to control; she did not have the sense of self to know what she was doing. So until then, if she was going down for a nap or Tav or Astarion would have their eyes off of her for longer than a few seconds, a long piece of string was attached to Apple's clothes, and she was then effectively turned into a balloon.

Everything came to a head, however, when, at age four, Apple was having trouble making friends in the neighborhood, so she summoned a fairy from the Faewild, and between the two of them, no closed door could keep them contained, nor would they keep them out. It all seemed harmless until they started playing tricks on anyone and everyone around them, which made others in the neighborhood anything but happy. So when Apple was four, Gale received another message via a sending spell begging him for help, and now there was a permanent portal in the downstairs lining closet that led straight to Waterdeep and vice versa. A year later, Apple was enrolled in Gale's wizard school for gifted children, and Tav now found most of her days, from nine in the morning to three in the afternoon five times a week, empty and devoid of Apple. Despite Apple being a sorceress and not a wizard, no one seemed to care in her class, and everything she learned helped her understand her magic.

Astarion had opened a small tailor shop out of the back room of the manor house they had acquired the day Apple was born, and for the most part, Tav manned the front desk while Astarion took clients and fitted them. He seemed genuinely happy with how his life turned out. Astarion now had a real family, not something forced together as the one Cazador had made, where they were brother and sister in name only. This family he chose was something he cultivated and nurtured over the years, filled with nothing but love and devotion.

Tav sometimes felt horrible for how she felt as she looked at how happy Astarion was where they both were, with their beautiful daughter and thriving business. It just felt like everyone had something but her. Everything was doing something, and she became a housewife and mother. Tav sometimes missed the feeling of blood in her hair, hearing an arrow fly through the air, and the sound it made when it hit its target. She loved Astarion and Apple dearly and wouldn't trade anything for what she had now; she sometimes missed the life she had before. She missed being an adventurer.

"You look amazing."

Astarion's voice woke Tav up from her daydream of years gone by. She looked up to see Astarion walking someone out of the back room. The man was dressed head to toe in a new suit Astarion had made specifically for him. On the front, beads of sapphire, jade, and ruby had been sewin in by hand in an intercept design. From where Tav sat behind the counter, it looked like flowers, but she wasn't paying enough attention to care. All that mattered was that Astarion and the customer liked it. What she thought of it didn't matter.

The customer was a large, dark-skinned man who was a part of the small consul of Baldur's Gate. Tav didn't recognize him and only vaguely remembered Astarion telling her he had booked a client off the consul. Saying that it was for a midsummer's party, they would be attending and that it would require a lot of beadwork. Tav was excited for Astarion; it was the first time someone from the upper city had requested a suit from him. The amount for the suit alone was enough for them to take several months off. Not that Astarion would since he had found a genuine love for his work now that his days of adventuring were behind him.

"I think this might be your best work, Astarion." The customer looked at himself in a mirror, and Astarion stood behind the glass so he wouldn't notice the missing reflection. "How do you manage to get such intercept designs?"

"Years of practice. I am an Elf, so I have the time." Astarion gave a little bow. "If you pay upfront, you can wear it out; My wife will help you at the counter."

The man looked Tav over with an assessing stare. Going over every part he could see. Tav quickly looked for something to do in order to make herself look busy and not as if she was simply doing nothing but keeping the counter in place. In a way, she was only sitting at the front counter to give herself something to do, not attributing to the business other than taking coins and maybe reading in her downtime.

"I wish I had been born an Elf." He pulled out his coin purse and proceeded to walk over to Tav. "You get all the perks; you only have to sleep a few hours, live for hundreds of years, and stay young longer than any of us."

"Maybe you'll get lucky, and when you die fat and happy, you'll be resurrected as something with a little longer life span." Astarion moved behind the counter with Tav. "Though you seem to be making the most out of this one already."

"I would still like more time; my life must seem like a drop in a bucket to you." He placed the purse down on the counter. "It's all there and a little extra for such beautiful work."

"Until next time." Astarion picked up the pouch, assessing its weight as he did.

"Oh, I will definitely be requiring your services again." The man turned. "And I'll be sure everyone at the party knows just who to go to if they want to look as fabulous as I will be."

The councilman walked out, strutting every step, dripping with confidence. Tav thought he wouldn't last more than ten minutes walking down the street in a suit beaded with gems. Surly, some thug or cutthroat would have it off him the second he walked down an ally or crossed into the slightest shadow.

Tav looked at Astarion, who looked like a cat who had caught a particular juicy rat. His lips were perfectly composed into a practiced smile that oozed trust, but his eyes were sharp, focused, and assessing. He likely thought the same thing Tav did and was betting on it. Hoping that the councilmen would come back begging for another suit and Astarion would oblige for double the price.

"He's going to get the crap beat out of him for that jacket," Tav said what they both thought.

"Oh, most definitely." Astarion purred as he spoke. "And that's precisely why I made a second suit, and when he comes back, I'm going to act like it's a huge inconvenience." A sly smile broke across his face. "So much so that he'll offer me extra just for my time."

"You're so cruel." Tav turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "But that's one of the things I love about you."

"It's not my fault he chose to put a target on his back." Astarion snaked his hands around her waist. "A man like that will always let his pride get the better of him."

"I guess it doesn't hurt that after you so graciously make him a new one, he'll be more inclined to tell people about you." Tav gave him a small smile.

"Exactly!" He leaned down, placing a kiss on Tav's head.

Tav pushed up on the balls of her feet to extend her reach, kissing his lips gently. Astarion returned the kiss, pulling her flush against him to deepen the kiss. Her lips parted slightly, inviting him in, and he obliged her, slipping his tongue into her mouth, leaving nothing unexplored. Tav felt heat flush into her body, pooling deep in her core. A moan escaped as she felt Astarion harden against her, a promise of what was to come.

He broke the kiss, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and biting gently. Tav moved her hands into Astarion's hair, weaving them in before tugging at his soft white curls. It was Astarion's turn to moan as his head dipped back slightly, leaning into the tug. Tav took advantage of his now exposed neck as she planted a soft kiss near his jugular. A gasp escaped his lips as Tav's kiss quickly turned into a gentle bite.

"I don't think I have another client for the rest of the day." Astarion's voice was breathy as he spoke. "What do you say to going up to our bed and having a little fun?"

"Whatever could you mean." Tav moved her lips around his neck, teasing him as she placed soft feather-light kisses on his exposed throat.

"You know exactly what I mean." Astarion moved his hands to cup Tav's face between his hands, forcing her to look at him. "Now, don't play dumb, or I'll have to show you what I mean right here where anyone could walk in and see."

"Well, when you put it that way." She gave him a wicked smile. "I wouldn't want anyone to see and get jealous."

"No, we wouldn't want that." Astarion gave Tav a rough, demanding kiss. "They would need to pay for it first, at least."

Tav chuckled as she thought about someone walking in on them. She was not interested in being watched in the slightest, but the thought still made her heart race. Moments like these were rare. Offend times took place in the dead of night when they thought that Apple wouldn't be awake to hear them and on days when Astarion wasn't exhausted after filling orders and stitching all day. It had gotten so bad that they had to plan out days in advance when they would have sex. Tav often missed the feel of his fingers caressing her body or the feeling of his lips on her neck. Their lives had changed in so many ways. Having to plan when they would have sex was never something she would have imagined. So when days like this happened, Tav was all but gitty with excitement.

Their passion was cut short when a crackle of magic filled the air, signaling the arrival of Apple coming home from her day at school. Astrarion let out a sigh before moving away from Tav, giving her a look that let her know they would continue where they left off later. Tav blew him a kiss in confirmation before turning away and slowly making her way to the linen closet. Astarion stayed behind the counter as he waited for his arousal to quiet down.

Apple burst through the door holding a small black book bag, a large smile plastered on her face. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she took in her parents, practically vibrating with excitement. That's how it was most days when she came back from school with her uncle Gale. She had a thirst for knowledge, and since she started at Gale's academy, her hunger only grew. She was a second year, which was noted by the patch sewn onto her breast pocket. The green patch matched her eyes and went nicely with the dark brown of the robe.

As the students aged, the color of the robes would change, and since Apple was still in the youngest block, she got to wear the plainest robe color. In a few years, she would move to blue, then purple, before finaly, in her final years, she would be able to choose her own clothes. Since then, she would be an adult and thus able to go off on her own technically. But Tav didn't want to think that Apple was still her baby girl and would stay that way for a long time.

"Mommy!" Apple bounced toward Tav as if she were a rabbit. "Guess what Uncle Gale had us do today!?"

"What would that be love?" Tav crouched down to get down on her level to talk.

Apple wrapped her arms around Tav's neck, nearly knocking her over as she crashed into her, too excited to temper her excitement. Tav kept her footing as she hugged Apple tightly, placing her hands behind her head to touch her soft white curls.

Apple looked more and more like Astarion every day; there was no mistaking whose child she was. Her curls swept down past her shoulders and fell in delicate rings. Despite her eyes being a deep emerald green accented with gold flecks, the shape of them was the same as her father's. Tav had to look hard to find anything that resembled her in her own daughter, and even then, she was growing up so fast even those things changed.

"Watch this mommy." Apple took a step away from Tav to ready herself for casting magic.

Tav pursed her lips together as she watched Apple stick out her tongue in concentration and shimmy her shoulders. The little sorceress closed her eyes and chanted the incantation she had learned today, only stumbling a little at the end of her sentence. Within seconds, lights appeared around her, dancing around her in a circle. Tav knew that with this spell now in Apple's repertoire, she would surely use it to stay up late and read under her covers at night. This was not the end of the world, but Tav knew it would lead to a grumpy Apple the following day.

"That is amazing, sweetheart!" Tav clapped her hands together. "Why don't we celebrate you learning a new spell by letting you choose what we will have for dinner?"

"Really! Anything I want?"

The gold in Apple's eyes glowed like stars at the thought of her getting to choose dinner. Tav heard Astarion's footsteps approaching from behind and turned to face him. He had a look of awe on his face. Not from the spell. It was one of the simplest spells that could be done, but he was in awe of his daughter. Every time he looked at her, he got a glimpse of his own face, something he hadn't seen in over two hundred years.

"Anything you want, darling, I will make." Astarion smiled.

"Can I have shepherd's pie?" Apple ran so that she nearly stepped on Astarion's feet and craned her neck to look up at him.

"Of course, we'll need to go and buy the ingredients." Astarion picked Apple up so that she was dangling in front of him. "Would you like to come with me?"

"Yes!"

"Will you be coming with us, love?" Astarion looked at Tav, who had turned to watch the exchange.

"Well, of course!" Tav moved to tickle Apple. "Once our little sorceress goes and changes out of her school clothes."

Apple was helpless as Tav's fingers found their mark. Moving up and down her sides, causing her to break out in uncontrollable laughter.

"Stop it, mommy! I'll get changed! I promise." Apple tried and failed to get Tav to stop. "Daddy, help me!"

"I'll Save you." Astarion spun and placed Apple on the ground. "Now hurry and change. I can only hold your mother back for so long!"

Astarion moved to embrace Tav, trying his best to make it look as if he was genuinely restraining her and not just holding her tightly against him. Tav played along, pretending as if his embrace trapped her. Mock struggled as if she was trying to break free.

"Thanks, Dad; keep her like that till I get back!" Apple retreated towards the stairs in the other room.

"Oh, I won't be letting her go, my sweet little Apple!" He shouted over his shoulder. "Not until I am delighted, at least." He whispered the last part so Apple wouldn't hear, but Tav indeed could.

"I Don't think we have time to satisfy you truly." Tav gave him a seductive smile. "She'll be back down in just a few minutes, and we both know you're not that quick."

"Then we better make it count." Astarion moved to the shell of Tav's ear. "For now, I'll just give you a taste of what is yet to come."

A shiver ran down Tav's spine. "Just kiss me, you beautiful fool."

"That's all?" Astarion moved his lips until they were nearly touching Tav's. "I would have thought you'd have a more vivid imagination."

"I do, but we don't have the time," Tav growled out her following words. "But I'll be sure to show you just how vivid my imagination is tonight."

Astarion chuckled. "I'm looking forward to that."

He finally touched Tav's, kissing her softly as they both listened for Apple's footsteps.

It took Apple fifteen minutes to choose from her massive wardrobe and come downstairs. Astarion had been busy over the years, making her dresses, pants, tunics, and whatever else he could think of. She was the best-dressed child in the neighborhood. Maybe even in all of Baldur's Gate.

The three of them went to the shops they needed to get the ingredients for the shepherd's pie Apple had asked for. They stopped by the butcher Alphones to pick up the ground lamb and a few jars of blood. Apple was nearly drooling at the sight of blood, and Tav quickly took the jars and headed outside. From there, they bought the rest of the vegetables on the way home, and Astarion and Tav set to peeling, chopping, and preparing for dinner while Apple read from her textbook.

After an hour or so, dinner was ready. Astarion poured himself and Apple a glass of blood while Tav made her and Apple a plate. The food smelled delicious, and Tav felt her mouth watering in anticipation of the meal she was about to devour. Apple sat across from Tav, and Astarion sat to Tav's left at the head of the table. Silence fell across the table as the meal started to be consumed.

"Oh!" Apple broke the silence after cleaning her plate. "I forgot to tell you the most exciting part of the day!"

"Learning a new spell wasn't at the top?" Astarion took a sip of his glass. "I'm surprised."

"Did something funny happen?" Tav stopped eating to listen to Apple speak, giving her full attention to her child.

"No, Urdrar told me he's going to get to be a big brother!" Apple was nearly standing in her seat.

Tav knew that Urdrar was a Dwarf and that he was Apple's best friend in her class. He had visited the portal several times with Apple for play dates, but Tav had never met his parents. Urdrar was a nice enough child, polite, and didn't like getting into trouble; unlike Apple, it almost seemed like trouble followed her wherever she went. She could often get the small, stocky, dwarven boy to do almost anything, taking advantage of his small frame to squeeze into all places. Being excited for her best friend made sense, but Tav could sense there was more to this excitement than just being happy for her friend.

"That's exciting for Urdrar." Tav looked at Astarion, who was still sipping on his glass.

"Yeah! But I was just wondering." Apple looked away from Tav's gaze.

There it is, Tav thought.

"Could I have a baby brother or sister?"

Astarion nearly choked on his blood at the words that came out of Apple's mouth. Tav got up from her seat to rub soothing circles on his back till he was no longer choking on the blood that had entered his lungs. It took a few more seconds before Astarion answered her question. Having a hard time finding the words to say.

"It is more difficult than just going to the store and picking a baby out, darling." Astarion turned to look at Tav, pleading for help with his eyes.

"He's right, dear. It's… complicated." Tav struggled to find the words.

"Why?" Apple knitted her brows together. "How do you get a baby then?"

Tav's heart felt like it was pounding against her chest. “Well… ummm… That's something only grown-ups get to know."

"Why?" Apple placed one hand on her hip. "What do you have to do?"

"We'll tell you when you are older, but not now." Astarion looked as if he was going to die all over again. "Why don't you go wash up and study? Your mom and I need to talk."

"Are you going to talk about how to make a baby?" Apple didn't move.

"No honey, we already know how to make a baby." Astarion smiled. "We don't need to talk about how it's done."

"Astarion!" Tav turned red.

"What? I didn't say anything." He stood, grabbing Apple's plate as he did. "Now go, Apple, I'll come up in a little while to read you a bedtime story."

"Ooookaaaay." Apple elongated the word as she rose from her seat and headed towards the stairs.

Tav and Astarion waited until they thought Apple was no longer within range to hear the conversation that they were about to have. The room was silent and thick with anticipation, both waiting for the other to speak.

"Well, we should probably clean up, huh?" Tav grabbed her plate and started making her way to the kitchen.

"Tav? It's not like we haven't discussed this before." Atsrion followed behind her.

"I know, but now she's asking about it." Tav let out a long sigh. "How do you tell a six-year-old I'm sorry, mommy and Daddy can't give you a brother or sister because having you was a miracle in itself, and it's a long shot if it ever happens again."

"Well, I think, just like that." Astarion placed the plate he was holding in the sink. "It's not like it's impossible; we've done it before."

"By accident!" Tav whirled around so that she was face to face with Astarion. "It was blind luck that I got pregnant the first time, and you know that being an elf makes it even harder."

Astarion grabbed Tav by the shoulders and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to try." Astarion smiled. "Gives us more of an excuse to… practice."

"I suppose we can read the paper for any elves that have died recently, or maybe there is a tea or potion that helps elves conceive." Tav smiled at Astarion despite feeling like she was going to throw up. "I mean, Drow have whole families; maybe they know something we don't."

"There we go!" Astarion wrapped his arms around Tav, pulling her into a tight embrace. "This time, we'll do some research that should make things easier."

"Yeah." Tav hugged Astarion back. "Easier..."

—————————————————

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WHaBFHtLA - Astarion x GN!Reader - Chapter 18: Traveling with a Friend

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Elf!Tav)

Genre: Reincarnation, Angst, Mystery, Slow burn

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Canon-Typical Violence, awkwardness

WC: 9k words, 18/?? chapters

Summary: You and Astarion travel together to Waterdeep. Emotions run high as you reconnect and reestablish your boundaries.

Ao3 | [Ch17][Ch19] | WHaBFHtLA Masterlist

The next morning, you find yourself up earlier than usual. A mixture of nerves and excitement kept you up later than you’d intended last night, but also ensured that you jolted out of bed before the sun even rose in the sky.

You’d finished packing all of your things yesterday– after all, the fear that Astarion may regret his choice to bring you never quite leaves your mind. Ignoring that fear, you sling your pack full of clothing across your back, tie your Bag of Holding to your robe’s belt, and prepare your spells for the day. You tuck Astarion’s Sending Stone in your pocket, set to return it when you get a chance.

Once you’re more than ready, have triple-checked that you’ve missed nothing, you head down the stairs of the manor to wait for your vampiric companion in the entry hall.

When you arrive, you find the man already there. You also find that Astarion might be just as anxious as you are, if his pacing is any indication. He stops once he hears your footsteps and turns toward you with narrowed eyes. Oh gods, has he changed his mind overnight? Is he going to revoke my invitation?

“There you are,” he says, words clipped. “I thought I told you to be ready by morning.”

You try not to let his attitude get to you, to be grateful that he’s given you this chance. But his lack of planning is something you’ve been dealing with for two lifetimes and you can’t help but feel how thin your patience is this soon after waking. “Astarion,” you start, tone carefully level. “You never told me what time in the morning. It’s practically still dawn!”

He huffs at you in exasperation. “You should have known! It takes hours to get to Baldur’s Gate. If we arrive too late, we won’t make the teleportation circle today.”

“And how was I supposed to know your agenda?” you can’t help but retort, your irritation bleeding into your tone. You knew that the two of you wouldn’t be back to normal, but you certainly hadn’t expected such early morning hostilities.

“I don’t know!” he says, walking toward you in a temper. “Aren’t you supposed to be intelligent?”

“I’m not a mind reader!” you reply. Though strictly speaking, you did prepare Detect Thoughts today. If anything goes wrong with Astarion, you’d rather have a chance to find out why. “Now, if we’re in such a hurry, can we stop bickering and just get going already?”

Astarion is stopped before you, his red eyes inspecting your face carefully. You wish you could cast Detect Thoughts right now without making it abundantly obvious that you’re prying. It seems as if he’s looking for something in you again, and you wish you could know what that something is. He turns away from you, grabs his own pack, and begins to head to the door without looking back. “Let’s go,” he calls before throwing his door open.

The daylight that streams through his doorway is blinding, and your panic is immediate. You’re rushing forward before you can help yourself, mind addled by fear. Astarion! He’ll burn– it’s almost an ingrained instinct in you, one that fizzles out abruptly.

Because of course Astarion is fine. In fact, he stands in the doorway, looking back at you like you’ve gone mad. “What are you doing, darling?” The pet names are back, but not in the tender tone you’d grown accustomed to.

“I…” You look at him more closely, spotting the sunlight ring on his finger. It’s only natural that he would use one for the trip, but your fear had reacted faster than any logic. “I moved on instinct. I suppose I’ve gotten too used to my memories.”

He scoffs, appearing displeased by your worry. “I don’t need you to defend me against the sun. Just focus on making up for lost time.”

He's right, of course. What would you do against the sun? But again, you’d been so ingrained in the past that your body moved on its own. You shake the sensation, watching Astarion turn to leave.

Now's your chance. You could read his mind, figure out if this whole trip is worth it or not– if he invited you out of obligation or affection and, more importantly, if he harbors any hatred for you. Detect Thoughts doesn't have to be invasive, especially if you just need to understand his mindset, but you feel a touch of guilt nonetheless. You rationalize it to yourself, If I don't find out now, he'll likely never tell me. I'll feel the shade of his disdain the entire trip, whether or not it's there. And you also simply can’t ignore the annoyed set of his jaw or the way his eyes had examined you moments ago.

So, once his back is turned and he is heading down the stairs, you quietly, quickly recite the incantation for Detect Thoughts. It only lasts a single minute, and you’d like to save some spells just in case, so you resolve to get your answers as quickly as possible.

A second later, the spell takes effect and you hear the man’s surface level thoughts.

‘Gods below, I can’t believe I’m doing this.’

You follow after him on the stairs, trying to keep up as you listen in.

‘There’s little to no chance that this will go well.’

As disappointing as his surface level thoughts are, they aren’t much use to you if he's going to keep grumbling to himself. You ask him a question as you chase him. “Say, why did you invite me to join you?”

Astarion looks back at you momentarily, his red eyes shining brilliantly in the sunlight– you’d missed this look in your memories, and it brings you a sense of ease that you don't have time to enjoy. “If you have breath to ask questions, then walk faster,” is all that he replies. In his mind you hear, ‘Hopefully Gale can help nip this ill-fated endeavor in the bud. If not then… I don't know what I'll do.’

Oh good. He hopes to use Gale as a voice of reason. For you. You try not to let your dread show on your face.

Continuing down the steps, nearly reaching the bottom of the long entry staircase, you ask your next question a bit breathlessly, “And why are we in such a rush?”

“We’ll miss the birthday celebration if we don’t hurry,” he replies with a glare, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Internally, you hear, ‘We likely have a few days until the dinner proper, but I don’t think I could spend an entire night alone with them. Not after everything.’

Upon hearing that thought, you want to ask him so very badly about everything that's transpired between you. If he meant his words, if he still wanted you in his life– but you can’t very well just ask that out of the blue. Instead you prod a little more subtly and hope his mind will fill in the rest, “How was your week in the Underdark?”

Astarion shoots you an annoyed look, and his thought comes through before his words. ‘Miserable.’ Aloud he says, “It was fine. We had some lovely family bonding experiences.” His thoughts continue, ‘I had to threaten Petras at least twice a day for being such an oaf, and if Dal gives me one more lecture on the meaning of love, I am liable to murder the entire colony.’

You can’t help the surprised laugh that bubbles out of you, and Astarion rolls his eyes at you– clearly not finding his own words to be worth a laugh. Recovering quickly, you respond, “Sounds nice.” Almost a minute has passed, and you can feel the spell fading as you both begin on the dirt path out of Astarion’s manor. You ask one final question, “Are you excited to see Gale?”

“Very,” he says to you, continuing to walk without looking back. Despite the sarcasm in his voice, his mind seems to agree emphatically, ‘We can't get there fast enough.’

The spell worn out, your curiosity satisfied for now, you keep pace with Astarion as you walk down the dirt path. You didn't learn anything too novel– and you wouldn't want to pry that deeply anyway– but you feel more comfortable knowing that hatred for you isn't at the forefront of his mind. Hopefully the journey ahead doesn't change that.

You’re not sure what time you’d need to make it to the city for the teleportation circle, or how long the two of you will be traveling, but you do know that your own journey from Baldur’s Gate had taken the better part of the day. You’re starting to suspect that the two of you won’t make it in time for the transport from the way Astarion seems to be eyeing the sun in the sky.

As your travel starts in earnest, you fall into a gentle rhythm as you walk. Perhaps it's your excitement or simply his determination to make time, but your shared goal keeps your mind from wandering too far– keeps it from remembering that the man next to you had torn your heart to shreds only a week ago. More likely it was that that man seemed to be hells bent on pretending that nothing had happened.

“How was your week?” he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eye. His tone has a lukewarm, distant affectation, as if he’s back to keeping you at an arm’s length. It reminds you of when you first arrived at his house.

“It was… fine,” you reply, borrowing his own verdict. It had been exhilarating, it had been frustrating, it had been illuminating– but now that you’re walking next to Astarion, reminded of his presence, all you can remember are the moments of loneliness, the longing you felt for him. “Thank you for allowing me to stay.”

Astarion waves your thanks off. “Think nothing of it. Dal insisted.”

Of course she did, she’d said as much. But he does seem to stand a bit straighter at your thanks. “Well, I still appreciate it. While I originally had trouble sleeping in that room, I’ve grown to quite like it.”

His head turns toward you slightly, almost imperceptibly. “You had trouble? You never mentioned it.”

You shrug at his question, having honestly not found it worth mentioning after that first day. “Like I said, I got used to it. And I wasn’t about to put you out for something as trivial as a few bad reveries.”

“Gods,” he mutters under his breath.

“What?”

“I’m just annoyed,” he says. The look on your face must be alarmed, because he continues, “At myself.”

The alarm likely doesn’t leave your face, but you respond calmly enough, “Erm, why is that?”

“Dal said…” he trails off, steps slowing for a moment as he appears to deliberate his words. “Well. Everyone said.” He looks at you before picking up his pace again. “They said that it was obvious who you were. If only I’d been open to seeing it. I see it now.”

The man’s words send a thrill up your spine, but his renewed speed doesn’t give you the chance to see his face, gauge his expression. You rush after him, managing to get out, “What does that mean?”

“It means ‘hurry up’ or I’ll leave you behind.” You consider another use of Detect Thoughts but think better of it. He would hear and see you casting it in the stark daylight and openness of the road.

You pick up your pace a bit, internally debating whether you should continue to press him on the topic, distract him from his half-jogging jaunt. On one hand, you do want to make it to Waterdeep in a timely manner, ask Gale all of the questions that you can think of. On the other hand, you suspect that all of the reasons Astarion wants to hurry up are the same reasons you would like to go more slowly: he doesn’t want to confront the words he levied against you or what you did in your time apart.

Ultimately, you decide that the silence isn’t bearable, and you maintain a steady, unrushed pace.

The two of you speak as you walk, conversation casual the entire time, as if a thin sheet of ice remains between you. Any words too loud, any emotions too hot, and it’s liable to shatter the ice and any semblance of peace. Your tone light, words equally as shallow, it’s as if you’re nothing more than casual acquaintances.

However, along the way, you do learn a few things.

The journey to Waterdeep would take nearly 45 days by foot, according to Astarion. While you could cut the time to a week by boat, the vampire can’t cross running water anymore, and he doesn’t particularly care to carve out more time ‘just to visit Gale.’

Astarion has never had to make the full trip, as Gale’s connections to both cities gets him an easy Teleport. Through the use of the teleportation circle, the trip is roughly a day or two. They close the Teleport by evening so he typically sets aside two days for travel.

Less than an hour out from Baldur’s Gate, you ask him, “Do you visit Gale often?”

Astarion gives a sigh. Having thawed a bit as you walk, his words and actions sound more like his usual self. “Not as often as Gale insists I should. At least once a year for this silly little birthday dinner though.”

You laugh, imagining how often Gale must bother Astarion, asking him to pay a visit. “What are his birthdays like?”

“Oh you know,” he begins, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Very Gale.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know how I asked you to pack for a few nights?” You nod. “It’s really an excuse to, ugh, spend time together. He never bothers to tell me when the damnable party actually takes place.”

You consider his words, recalling what he’d said just a few hours ago and what you’d heard from his thoughts. “So, we might not miss the celebration?”

“Or we might.” Astarion places a hand to his temple in aggravation. “Though more often than not he drags it out, like one of his rambling tangents.”

I certainly remember those tangents, you think. While you had primarily dreamt of Astarion, your other companions had appeared frequently enough that you felt quite connected to each. You’d actually been very at odds with your previous-self, wanting to listen to everything Gale said, no matter how much of their boredom flowed into you. Much like when you met Halsin, you can’t help the anticipation building in you. The thought of Halsin reminds you to ask, “Does anyone else show up to the dinner? Halsin said he hadn’t seen you in almost a century.”

“Yes, well,” Astarion looks at you briefly, turns back to the road. “When Gale started hosting these, about fifty years back, Halsin and I had already stopped speaking for some time. Some others show. Elminster, Volo. You won’t be surrounded entirely by strangers if that’s what you’re asking.”

While you’re curious to know who all the guests are, this isn’t the first time that you’ve noticed Astarion and Halsin being at odds. “If you don’t mind my asking, why don’t you speak with Halsin anymore?”

Astarion continues to walk, not looking back at you, not answering your question. He clearly minds you asking, but stops in his tracks before you can change the subject. His sharp red eyes meet yours, looking between them a moment before he says, “Let’s just say we don’t see eye to eye on life, death, and whatever it is that lies in between.”

‘If you find Astarion, be sure to remind him that the cycle of rebirth is a blessing, one that he's been lucky enough to receive.’

The druid’s words ring through your ears as you take in Astarion’s pained expression. Understanding dawns on you as you respond, “Did the two of you… fight after I died in my previous life?”

“Something like that,” the vampire responds, lips pressing into a displeased line. “He kept trying to reassure me, to tell me about the ‘natural circle of life.’ I didn’t want his pity or insipid kindness. And now that you’re here…”

Now that I’m here, I'm only proving the druid right. “I–” I’m sorry? You can’t be, because Halsin understood, far more than you or Astarion do. Hundreds of years of experience, of living in nature and surrounding himself in its domain, only improved his perspective. Death isn’t the end for anyone, simply another part of the natural rhythm of life. “I see. Have you considered reconnecting? He said he would love to see you.” You decide not to mention that he’d like you both to visit together.

Astarion finally breaks eye contact with you, turning back to the road. “Maybe someday. First let’s get this yearly misery out of the way, shall we?”

You agree, accepting a ‘maybe’ as the best you’re likely to get from the vampire.

The city isn’t far now, but the sun begins to hang low in the sky. Just as the gates come into view, you ask Astarion another question, unsure of how he might react. “Are we going to make it to the teleportation circle?”

You see his silvery head shake out of the corner of your eye. You’re walking side by side now, his earlier bursts of speed dwindling alongside his ill-humor. “I doubt it. No matter, we’ll get there when we get there.”

A distinct difference from his attitude this morning, but not one that you’ll point out. “So then… what is the plan for tonight?”

He seems to think for a moment and, as he tilts his head toward you, you catch a bit of uncertainty creasing his brow. “I suppose we should find somewhere to stay for the night. Leave bright and early in the morning.”

It sounds as good a plan as any to you, but Astarion’s hesitance has you on edge too. He seems to be pretending not to care that you’re about to spend a night alone together– that act of pretend is far worse for your nerves than simply caring outright. “A simple but effective plan,” you say, only barely holding back your nervous laughter.

It also sounds like you'll have time in the city, at least for a short while, before nightfall. The perfect opportunity to stop by Sorcerous Sundries before they close and look for some materials for the ring. You don't mention this, but resolve to head out once you find lodging.

As the two of you make your way through the dirt roads of Wyrm's Crossing, a silence falls between you, an anticipation that seems to rush you both forward a bit faster.

You approach the South Span Checkpoint with confidence and an odd feeling of familiarity. Not only had you crossed through here a few weeks ago, but your past-self and Astarion did plenty of times as well. It’s strange knowing that you’re all but tracing the footsteps of your former life.

And, yet again, your body fights you: it takes everything you have not to instinctively grab Astarion’s hand as you walk. It had been a common act for the two of you, holding hands as you walked through crowded plazas and streets– in part for the comfort of having one another, in greater part to avoid having to find each other again every few blocks. You manage to resist though, even as you reach the busy checkpoint.

The guards at the checkpoint regard you both with boredom, and you pass without issue. You still have your writ of passage from weeks ago and Astarion presents his as well. Once you’re out of earshot, you ask a question that had bubbled up when you saw Astarion’s paperwork.

“Do they ever recognize you as one of the saviors of Baldur’s Gate?”

Astarion looks at you, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Darling, surely you jest.”

His mirth confuses you. “I don’t. Why would I jest?”

“Because, my dear,” he says, speaking back to you as you both weave through a crowd milling between street stalls. “So many people have saved this city, only fanatics truly care about one or two in particular.”

His words evoke images of Minsc, Jaheira, the others who came before your past-self and your companions– those that had shown up in history books since then. I suppose that makes sense. Certainly explains why everyone who looks for him seems like a unique type of enthusiast. Lost in thought as you are, you miss the moment when Astarion slips out of your view.

When you finally look up, you’re faced with the backs of dozens of strangers, no silver-haired head to be seen. “Astarion?” you ask, looking left, right, behind you. Panic begins to bloom in your chest and your heart starts to pound. Of course you’ve lost him almost immediately.

You’re about to yell his name louder when a hand grabs yours from the crowd.

You give an appropriately terrified yelp, but the cold fingers and familiar pale skin calm you. Looking up to see an amused set of red eyes staring at you stills the rapid beating of your heart. “Darling, it’s a miracle you made it to me with your head so high up in the clouds,” he says, voice barely carrying over the bustling conversations. “Keep this up and I’ll pickpocket you myself.”

No smart remark reaches your lips, no brilliant defense. Because all you can think of is that his hand is in yours again. You hope he can’t hear the satisfied sigh that escapes your lips.

His hand doesn’t leave yours as he pulls you through the throngs of people. It doesn’t let yours go, even as you both narrowly dodge a man pulling a cart of cabbages. It doesn’t let go even as you walk by the Flaming Fists in Wyrm's Rock Fortress. Maybe in another lifetime, were you someone else, holding his hand like this would make you both look like a couple.

By the time you reach the entrance to Baldur’s Gate, his hand is the same temperature as your own. It’s only when the guards at the gate ask to see your paperwork once more that you break apart.

Once you’re in the city, Astarion turns to look at you. You think you spot a softness to his eyes before they harden once more and he says, "I suppose we should get lodging before it gets too late. It wouldn't do to get the last available room."

You nod, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your chest. The sleeping arrangements weren't something you'd paid any mind to when it came to missing the teleportation circle, but now that you’re in the city, it's all you can think about.

Astarion doesn't grab your hand again, but you do a fine job of keeping up with him as he makes his way to the Elfsong.

You'd stayed here just weeks ago and reveled in how unchanged it is since being rebuilt, but walking in next to this man brings on a wave of nostalgia far stronger than before. The familiarity doesn't die down as Astarion walks up to the barkeep, asking for a room for two. The memories that flood you are not your own as you see one of his elegant hands slide a few gold coins across the table, his other hand gesturing enthusiastically as he makes a deal with the man at the counter.

When he turns back around toward you, room key in hand, he seems to be just as lost in thought as you are. "Shall we?"

You nod, following behind him in a daze.

Maybe this is why he'd completely redone his house. Memory after memory comes unbidden as you walk after him. The time that you'd all played cards, just at that corner table. The time you'd convinced a drunken stranger that you were visiting royalty. All those times that you both snuck away from everyone, up the stairs for a moment to yourselves.

It feels like one of those moments now, as the din of the Elfsong falls away and you both walk up the creaky, wooden steps to the second floor.

He unlocks the door to your shared room and you both file in in silence. A small sliver of relief shoots through you upon seeing two beds, but the relief is short-lived when you look up to see Astarion's eyes trained on you.

"What?" you ask, worried at the lack of legible emotion on his face.

"It's strange," he replies, sitting down on one of the beds with a slight chuckle. "I wasn't expecting this all to feel so…"

"Familiar?" you offer, taking his lead and dropping onto your own bed in a relieved huff.

"You feel it too, I take it?" After a quick nod from you, he continues to elaborate, "I've stayed here for years since…" Since I died, your mind fills in easily. He continues after a silence with, "It's different this time."

You hum appreciatively, not sure how to put the nostalgia that you're feeling into words. Naturally, you try anyway. "It's– it's almost as if we've just been here. As we climbed the stairs, I was remembering one of the times we snuck up here, away from the rest of the group. You'd been so impatient to get away that we nearly got caught by Shadowheart and…" The rest of your words die on your tongue. You’re afraid that you've gone too far, tread too deep into a now painful memory.

But when you glance at him, Astarion is simply staring at a floorboard between you, a small, melancholy smile on his face. "And I just about broke an ankle trying to scramble up. I remember that time."

Your heart jumps in your chest at his pensive state, wondering how you can preserve the moment, bottle it up like a tonic for your soul. Nothing that beautiful ever lasts though, and he looks up at your awed, frozen stare.

Luckily, the fondness that glazes over his eyes lingers as he says, "Mmm, the lot of us made this place a home of sorts I suppose. Though you may remember as well as I do, darling."

"Yes," you reply, turning away from his gaze. "I received quite a few memories from that time. Not all fun and games, of course, but it was still nice."

“I’m glad,” he says, with a wistfulness to his tone that makes your heart ache. “It’s somewhat gratifying to know that our adventures live on, in some form or another.”

You laugh a bit, and the two of you sit in silence for a long, lasting moment.

Astarion breaks the silence by clearing his throat and you look up at him as if summoned. “It’s a tad late, but I wanted to thank you. For joining me. I know the last that we spoke…” His eyes narrow in a wince. “I said some hurtful things.”

Oh gods, you think. We need to have this conversation sooner or later, don’t we? And you do, despite all of the muscles in your body clenching instinctively, the fear that courses through you telling you to run. “I recall,” is all that you can manage between breaths. The feeling of loss is encroaching on you, threatening to overtake you.

Then Astarion snaps you back to reality.

“I know my apologies have been, well, wanting, as my siblings like to say.” He smirks at you, despite the serious set of his eyes. “But should you have room in your heart or soul for another, I am sorry for the words I said. I can’t take them back, nor can I fix the hurt I’ve caused, but I can assure you that I regret every word I said in anger.”

For all of the apologies Astarion has delivered since you arrived on his doorstep, this one feels the most sincere. His eyes don’t waver, his voice is steady and sure. While he’s right, that none of this fixes the pain, nor the feelings left behind, you do feel something relax in you at his words. A tension that had carried you through the day finally eases.

However, one last, persistent issue needs to be addressed. “Thank you. And, though I wish I could apologize myself, for crossing your boundaries, I’m afraid I have no intention of stopping my research to help the spawn.” You’re surprised by the strength of your own voice, the confidence that you feel.

Astarion seems to notice it as well– the lines of his jaw clench, his next breath comes a bit short. “Yes. I suspected as much. And it’s your life– or lives– to do with as you please. I should know better than to try to stop you myself.”

Right, you think. That’s why you’re taking me to Gale. He doesn’t know that you know that though, so you simply say, “In that case, thank you for that as well.”

The vampire tilts his head toward you slightly in response and continues, “That being said, I am not about to attach myself to someone stubbornly set on a mission from the hells.”

“I can understand that,” you reply, bowing your head a bit to hide the disappointment that is surely on your face.

“So,” Astarion starts, clicks his tongue with a ‘tch.’ “Until you’ve either given up on this endeavor or died once more trying, I want to make it clear that we are strictly friends.”

Friends.

The word sounds like a discordant melody crashing into a quiet space. It feels fumbling and childish, incorrect and out of place. How could two people whose histories, bodies, lives have been intertwined for centuries find themselves back at friends, time and time again?

And yet, it’s more than you could ever hope for, the lifeline that will keep you afloat. So, while it feels like a step back, it’s one that you will take each time it’s offered to you. “I will always be happy to be your friend, Astarion.”

Your eyes meet once more, staring across this familiar treading ground, and you find peace in each other’s gaze.

The moment passes, and you decide that it’s time for you to leave if you want to make it to Sorcerous Sundries before it closes. Besides, better to leave now, while you’re both friends, than to muck it all up again by allowing a memory to fog your judgment, instinct to move your body. “Speaking of my endeavors, I need to go to the shop. Perhaps we can reminisce a bit more once I return?”

Astarion seems surprised as you rise from the bed, but he recovers quickly, pursing his lips at you disapprovingly. “Very well. But be careful. Night is about to fall and the city gets rather dangerous after dark.”

“Don’t worry,” you reply, smiling at him as you prepare your coin purse, deposit your pack on your bed. “I happen to know that all of the vampires left the city a while back.”

He snorts and shoos you with his hands. “Gods. Out with you, so that I can lock you out of the room for your poor attempts at humor.”

“Fine, fine,” you say, laughing and walking toward the door. “I do promise that I’ll be as alert as I can be.”

“Knowing you, darling?” he asks, leaning back on his bed. “I’m afraid that doesn’t mean much.”

It's odd but, despite everything, you end up leaving the conversation like a pair of old companions who haven't spoken in a while– falling into a comfortable rhythm that neither of you want to break.

A sense of purpose still drives you forward though. So you leave him in the room, somewhat flustered by the shift in your dynamic, but not unpleased.

You’re familiar enough with the city at this point that you make it to Sorcerous Sundries without too many extra twists and turns– and, despite Astarion’s misgivings, without losing your life or money. You had visited the establishment on your way into the city, grabbing various spell components, refilling your ink, and generally getting a lay of the land. So, when you enter this time, you’re only mildly gobsmacked by the treasure trove of magical goods before you.

In Neverwinter there are plenty of magical shops on the same level as Sorcerous Sundries, but something about a new magical shop provokes a special kind of thrill in you.

You walk up to the counter, finding a simulacrum of a tiefling taking care of the shop.

“Hello and welcome to Sorcerous Sundries! What can I do for you?” it asks.

“Hello,” you reply, quite used to treating simulacrums like their real world counterparts. “Would you happen to have an item that can create water?”

It’s not ten minutes later that you’re leaving the shop with a Decanter of Endless Water, several spell components, a brand new notebook, and a much lighter coin purse. I’m lucky my parents sent me off with so much gold , you think. They would have had no clue that I would end up spending this much already. When I end up back in Neverwinter, I'm afraid I'll have a stern lecture waiting for me.

The night is still fairly young and you debate stopping by a smithy to purchase more metal or perhaps seeking out an old haunt from your prior life. But nothing sounds quite as appealing to you as making your way back to Astarion.

Can I truly spend the rest of the night alone with him? you consider as you make your way back, dragging your feet as you ponder. I know we're ‘friends’ again, but just the thought of being in that room, so close. It may prove to be too much.

You pause outside the Elfsong, staring up at the window to the room you're sharing. A quick movement passes behind the curtains, and you wonder what Astarion was up to while you were out. Perhaps he expected you to be out longer.

Maybe I'll get a meal before I head up, in case he wants a bit more alone time, you decide.

That's how you spend the next half hour eating alone along the Elfsong's bar, trying out your new decanter in a borrowed cup. By the time you finish your meal, you're certain it will be helpful, but equally certain that any blood you make from it won't satiate a vampire.

Luckily you have one such vampire to test your ideas on. If he is amenable to the tests. You decide to wait until you’re both safely in Waterdeep before you start creating rivers of fake blood.

You make your way upstairs, knock on the door to your shared room, and speak, "May I enter?" The man inside grumbles something, which you take as assent. You find Astarion on his bed where you left him, a book balanced on his lap, a sour expression on his face.

“Are you alright?” you ask him, dreading the possibility that he’s spent the last hour changing his mind once more.

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, eyes focused on his book. “Simply enjoying my book. Alone.”

Oh, I suppose he did want more alone time. “I’m sorry, I can leave you be for a bit longer if you’d like–”

“Ever so helpful, aren’t you?” he snaps. Then, realizing what he’s said, wipes a hand over his face and looks up at you. His eyes are conflicted. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I suppose I just didn’t realize that my company was that disagreeable. It’s a rather uncomfortable thing to come to terms with.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, closing the door behind you and stepping in now. You set down your spoils and turn toward Astarion. His entire demeanor, his body, looks to be on edge, like something has been chipping away at him.

Astarion closes the book in his lap, and you note that the cover is upside down. “It’s just this damned tavern. I know I can’t eat, but I guess I got used to sharing meals with, erm, you. Them.” He drops his head and mumbles, almost too quiet to hear, “I don’t even know anymore.”

He’d mentioned before how difficult it had been for him, trying to reconcile who you are, who you were, but he’d recused himself every time it got to be too much. Here, sharing a room in the Elfsong, neither of you could run away from the roiling storm of his emotions.

Faced with his hanging head and the hunch of his shoulders, you haven’t a clue how to approach the man you can only call a friend. You almost wish this was a memory, if only for your emotions to come through clearly, your next course of action to be predetermined. But, of course, you are the only one capable of dealing with the consequences of your own actions.

You approach him slowly, cautiously, and call out his name. “Astarion?”

The man lifts his head up to you, and you find torment twisting his fair features. His breathing seems shallow and rushed. The lines around his mouth deepen as he reads your expression and he only replies, “Please don’t.”

“Don’t?” you ask, stopping just short of his bed.

“Don’t look at me like that– With that infernal pity. I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look fine, and you don’t feel pity. It’s hard to parse out your emotions, but you mostly feel bad. The idea that he’d been suffering alone, that he had harbored this turmoil, all without letting you in… it hurts. Whether or not he loves you, he said he cared about you. He claims to be your friend and friends don’t shut each other out like this.

“I know you don’t want to get more attached to me,” you say, taking another step. “But I promise I am only doing this as a friend.”

You don’t give him time to react, to protest your presence, before your arms reach down and envelop his form. It’s an awkward angle, with his body hunched, curled on his bed, yours draping over him like an unwelcome cloak– he stiffens under you at first.

Then his tension melts.

His hands come up, grasping at your elbows and holding you in place. His soft, silver hair tickles your neck as his head leans into your chest. His whole body angles toward yours, as if seeking your warmth desperately.

You cling back, tilting your head into his. Your hands grip his sides tightly. Your presence is firm, your warmth his to take.

You hold him like that for a time, neither of you wanting to pull away from the simple, beautiful feeling of holding one another. Initially, you’d held him for his sake, but you find that the longer you stand there, the more your own soul settles. If a soul could crave, this is what mine would yearn for.

Eventually, Astarion’s breathing slows. He inhales deeply one last time, gives a soft shuddering breath that ghosts across your skin, and pulls away. “Thank you,” he says, eyes not meeting yours. “You’re… a kind friend.”

Your throat feels tight, whether from disuse or from emotion, you can’t quite tell. You clear it and respond, “You’re welcome. I’m more than happy to help.”

Detaching your limbs from his body, you feel so awkward, so out of place standing before him. Barely more than a week ago you’d been wrapped in his arms, he’d been whispering sweet nothings into your ears as he caressed every inch of you. But this? It feels as if you’re both truly, utterly stripped bare before each other.

“It’s getting late,” he says, looking up at you finally. His eyes are dark in the candle-lit room, and his expression is difficult to read. He’s certainly calmer though, less on edge than he was when you entered the room.

“You’re right,” you say, taking a step back. “We should rest up so that we make it to Gale bright and early tomorrow.”

Astarion gives you a short nod and whispers, “You’ll tell me if your reverie bothers you, won’t you?” His unspoken words are clear to you, You’ll allow me to be there for you, as you’ve been there for me?

“I will,” you respond, turning to your bed. “Promise.”

You get ready for bed in silence, and when the time comes for Astarion to snuff the candle he murmurs into the dark room, “Goodnight, darling.”

“Goodnight, Astarion.”

Perhaps it was the memories of the day, but that night you dream of the Hero’s life. Much like your real life, you seem to be on a trip to Waterdeep.

Gale Dekarios stands before you, holding an orb of magical light above you. You recognize it as a simple Light cantrip.

“Could you hold that a bit higher?” you hear yourself say.

“With pleasure,” he responds, adjusting accordingly.

You seem to be holding a set of tongs, a piece of heated metal bending between them, a careful hand pulling with a pair of pliers. “Thank you. Astarion never sits still long enough to help with these, you know.”

“I am well aware, my friend,” Gale says with a slight chuckle. “It’s a miracle he agreed to join you on this trip.You would think he’s allergic to magic with the way he avoids visiting.”

Your own responding laugh is softer, your hands remain steady as you warp the still warm metal. “He secretly enjoys it,” you reply. “And you know, if anything happens to me on our next journey…”

“Now, now, I have the utmost confidence in you– everything will go swimmingly, just you wait.” His words are warm, confident in you.

“I know,” you say, pressing the two ends of the metal strip together, ensuring that they’re flush to each other. “But if anything were to happen. You’ll make sure he’s okay, right?”

Gale looks a bit offended when you look up at him. “Of course I would! I would be quite the atrocious friend if I did or said otherwise.”

You feel satisfaction at his words, nodding. “Good. Now would you mind a quick flame to weld these ends together?”

The wizard helps you close the loop off, and you’re left with a recognizable ring, one of the prototypes that you’d designed together. It had been one of the ones you’d marked off with the blacksmith’s initials. It’s a clean design, a simple thin band made of silver with room for an inlay along its ridge.

“What do you think?” you ask him, holding it in your palm once the metal cools.

“Why it’s a beautiful little thing, isn’t it?” Gale says, appreciatively. “Silver though, a might bit too much for a vampire perhaps? I know I recommended it, but it may sting.”

“True. But first we’ll have to wait and see how the mage’s magic works. If it even works,” you say with a sigh.

Gale hums thoughtfully, inspecting the ring. “It may be a tall tale, but I’d still say it’s worth a shot. Besides, your intuition has never led us astray before.”

You laugh at that, some guilt coursing through you as you say, “I don’t know about that. Remember the time that you nearly got blown off Ramazith's Tower?”

The wizard shudders at the memory. “Your intuition rarely has led us astray.”

The two of you continue at work, discussing the merits of different shapes of rings. Some are better for integrity, some for holding magic– together, you with your knowledge of metals and metalworking, Gale with his knowledge of enchanting, you refine and iterate through the night.

The entire dream you pay rapt attention, wishing more than anything that you could interject, ask your own questions. All the while you remind yourself, I will have my chance. For now, I must just listen.

You wake from your reverie bright and early. Astarion still slumbers, and you debate heading down to breakfast without disturbing him before deciding that he would very much not like that.

So you read through some of your notes with last night’s dream in mind, waiting for the vampire to wake up.

When the man stirs, sitting up with a slightly tousled head of hair, it’s all you can do to stop yourself from emitting a happy little sigh. After a week without him, waking to his presence is more refreshing than you can put into words.

“Good morning,” you say, smiling at him and tucking your papers back into your bag of holding.

“Morning,” he says, looking at you cautiously. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod, assuring him that it was not tossing and turning that woke you early. “I dreamt of Waterdeep actually. I spent the night crafting with Gale.”

Astarion snorts at that, though he does seem relieved. “Sweet hells, those were some dull nights. I swear, it was like the two of you were out to bore me to death.”

Your heart catches in your throat. The two of you… He included you. It feels odd getting worked up over such a small word choice, seeing as almost everyone else treated you as your former self. But he’d always maintained a clear distinction.

However, the man in question did not even seem to notice the slip. He continues, “Well, I’d like to think Gale has matured some since then.” Astarion snickers under his breath. “We can’t all be blessed with eternal beauty I suppose.”

You recover your bearings, registering Astarion’s jabs. The Gale of your dream last night was still quite lively, if lined with a few more wrinkles, hair salted with a few extra streaks of gray. “Is he, erm, well? ” You don’t know how to tactfully ask if he’s on death’s door, but Astarion seems to understand what you’re implying.

“Oh, he’s perfectly healthy,” he says, stretching as he rises from bed. “Much like Elminster, someone as adept at magic as he is knows full well how to extend his life without complications.”

You nod, knowing as much from your own wizardly studies. “I’m glad. I’d love to get to know him better. I think I’ll be able to learn a lot.”

Astarion’s resulting glare is pointed. “I’m going to regret bringing you, aren’t I?”

You shrug, dropping your legs over the edge of the bed and getting up. “I’m afraid it’s too late to rescind the invitation. I think you know as well as I do that I could and would follow you if need be.”

The threat is lighthearted, jovial even, and the vampire’s responding smile is blinding to you in the morning light. “You’re a veritable scourge upon my sanity, you know.”

His tone is surprisingly seductive and you feel a heat building in you. You turn away from the distinctly unfriendly thoughts that come to your mind and say, “I know. Shall we get going?”

Before you leave, the two of you stop downstairs for a quick breakfast. You claimed you could have gone without, but Astarion demands it, saying that, with a self-sacrificing fool like yourself, it was up to him to make sure that his mortal friend gets the sustenance they need.

Mortal meal time out of the way, you find yourselves at the permanent teleport station– the very same one you entered the city through over a month ago. You recognize the mage running the teleport station as the one who’d welcomed you in: Thomas, you recall.

“Good morning, Thomas,” you say with a wave.

“Good morning!” he responds, waving back enthusiastically. He’s an eager man, passionate about his craft. Conjuration magic isn’t your specialty, so you’d asked plenty of questions when you came through. “Why, isn’t this a pleasant surprise! What are you doing back here?”

“I’m actually on–”

“On a trip with me,” Astarion interjects, stepping up to Thomas with a smile. “Good morning.”

“Oh, good morning, sir.” Thomas seems taken aback by Astarion’s sudden appearance, but turns back to address you, “Well, it’s lovely to see you again. It’s not every day you get someone coming in that’s so knowledgeable and interested in your work.”

You smile at Thomas, understanding all too well, but feel the burn of Astarion’s eyes on your face all the while. “I would love to ask some more questions, but I’m afraid we have to get going today. Maybe next time I come through?”

“I am always happy to answer more questions!”

Thomas looks downright joyful at the idea, though his smile dies when Astarion cuts in, “Or maybe we’ll return by boat. Who really knows?”

“I doubt that,” you say, shooting Astarion a warning look. “For today, we’d just like passage to Waterdeep, please.”

Ever the professional, Thomas doesn’t push on your less-than-subtle bickering, merely agrees to set up the circle, takes Astarion’s note of passage from Gale, and goes to prepare the spell.

As the two of you move to get into position, you mutter to Astarion under your breath, “What was that about?”

“What was what?” he replies, smiling at you with false warmth.

“How rude you were to Thomas,” you hiss. “He’s only been utterly polite.”

Astarion scoffs, looking at you in disbelief. “Polite? Oh my dear, I’m so glad you have me as a friend.”

You only give him a confused, concerned look.

“As somewhat of an expert, I know a wretched flirt when I see one. Thomas has anything but innocent intentions,” he explains, glaring at the man who’s hard at work inscribing sigils. “It’s my duty as your friend to protect you from such scoundrels, of course.”

Oh great, you think, rubbing your temple with one of your hands. He’s evoking friendship in the name of jealousy. At least, it seems like jealousy. “He’s just doing his job, Astarion.”

“Darling, no one is that eager to do their job. No, he’s thinking of doing other things,” he says, lowering his voice as he insinuates what exactly Thomas would like to do.

You can’t help the heat that comes over you. While you’d planned on letting the matter drop, you feel the need to defend Thomas. “Hush, Astarion. Stop attributing your lecherous feelings to the poor man.”

The look Astarion gives you is one of sheer shock. Whether at your blunt comeback or at the feelings he may be trying to smother, you’re not sure.

Before he can recover, Thomas calls, “The circle is ready! Safe travels to you both, and, erm, I may or may not see you on your way back!”

You wish you could say something to assuage the mage, but his magic envelops you both a second later– a blinding flash of purples and blues obscures your vision and after a few rapid blinks you find yourself in Waterdeep’s teleport station.

“Oh good,” you say, finding Astarion still staring at you. “I was worried you’d stay behind to keep terrorizing Thomas.”

“Very funny,” he grumbles, turning away from you. “Let’s get to Gale’s before you accidentally woo some other unsuspecting sap.”

He makes me sound like some kind of philanderer, you think as you follow after him. Not that you were capable of philandering. He’d made that abundantly clear. A rage fills you as you think of the things he’s said about you and your attractiveness. Your thoughts darken further as you remember how you’d changed your appearance for him those weeks ago. I suppose he did say he liked my face eventually…

Now here he was, getting jealous. Which was it? Are you some kind of alluring temptation or a cruel joke sent by the gods? You want to know. No, you need to know.

The man is walking ahead of you, leading you past Waterdeep’s teleport mages, out of the building. Before you both reach the door, you call out, “Astarion.”

“What?” he says, stopping to look back to you. His brows are set in an angry line, but you can tell it’s more frustration than anger.

“Do you truly think that Thomas was flirting with me?” you ask. Astarion’s eyes narrow at you and when he doesn’t answer you immediately, you continue, “I know I’m no monstrosity, but I’m certainly not a catch like some people.”

“Nonsense,” he mutters, opening the door. “How do you manage to be the smartest imbecile I know? I know Gale for gods’ sake.”

“What does that mean– oh my sweet celestial plane.”

With the doors open, the city of Waterdeep lies before you.

Your own city of Neverwinter is beautiful– a bustling city full of crafts and trade. Baldur’s Gate is, well, the Gate– a diverse city, bursting at the seams with people, places, and things to do. But this? This is the City of Splendors.

From your studies, you’re well aware that this city is the pinnacle of many things. They have the best artisans guilds, scholars whose renown extends across the Realms, Archmages like Gale. You can tell from your first look at the city that it’s steeped in history and wealth.

Astarion looks at you, bemused, his earlier ill humor forgotten as he asks, “You haven’t been here before have you?”

“Only in my memories,” you reply, awestruck as you step out of the building and begin looking around.

“Stay close then,” he says, holding out a hand. “I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

All of your worries have evaporated in the face of a new, wondrous place. I’ll have to ask again later, you decide, taking Astarion’s hand and beginning your trek through the city of Waterdeep.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion masterlist #gn reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 astarion #when he's all but forgotten how to love again #whabfhtla #reincarnation trope #elf!tav #astarion x you

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rjmartin11 · 1 year

Text

I'm Aaron

Chapter Two

Pairing: Elvis & female!reader

Summary: You're a workaholic who decides to take a private mini vacation in Las Vegas. While there, you stumble into and befriend a handsome stranger at a bar. This handsome stranger is more than meets the eye. He wants to show you a great time... privately. It's an experience that you've never had before. You soon realize that you're in over your head, and your heart is falling fast.

Word Count: 2.7K

Warning: A bit sad. Mentioning of death. But the smut is here! I repeat, the smut has arrived! Sex, oral (f. receiving) slight fingering (f. receiving). Only for mature audiences. Viewer discretion is advised!

Author's Notes: Welcome to Chapter Two! I'm so pleased with all the re-posts, likes, and follows I've received! Y'all are the sweetest! It's all done for the love of E.P. That gorgeous talented man! Have mercy! If you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter, leave me a message. What happens in Vegas stays in the bedroom! 😉

❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁

"Aaron. Were you also raised in a strict Christian home, Aaron?"

"Well, not as strict as you but yes. I was raised Penecostal, but my folks let me listen to old rock n roll all the time. But I love Gospel the most. Why do you ask?"

"Well, your name is Biblical. I find that most of the children with Biblical names grew up with strict parents. How do you spell it?"

"With two A's. My folks originally spelt it with one, but when I turn 25 I changed it legally after I came home from the service."

"You were in the military? For how long?"

"I spent two years in Germany."

"That's very noble, and how did you meet your boss?"

"My boss?" He said with a questionable look.

"Yes. Elvis."

"Oh yeah. He and I go back a ways. Childhood. I've seen him through it all and then some."

"Is he nice? Does he treat you well?" You pondered trying to understand why all these women loved him so much.

"He has his moments. He tries to remain good. Be the good boy his mama raised him to be. It seems like the world's closin' in on him and he's nervous about the show tomorrow. He wants everything to go right. What if they don't love...him...anymore."

"He's not too short on supply there. I was listening to his music on my drive here this afternoon, and the taxi driver told me that I needed to get tickets to see him. The receptionist at the front desk, too. They are head over heels for him. They describe him as a god."

"He knows better. There's only one God. One King."

"Amen." You say taking another sip of your drink.

"Enough about Elvis. What about you, Y/N? Where are from? And if you aren't here for the show tomorrow night, why are you here?"

You move your daiquiri away from you and think of the right words to say. "I'm on vacation. I've never really taken a vacation, and I thought it was about time. I'm originally from Florida. Deep in the Bible belt. My mother worked her hardest to try to get me free from my father's house. His boundaries. I turned 18, and I left. I moved to Atlanta, Georgia. I wanted my mama to be proud of me. She passed on two years later, and I plunged myself into work. I made friends, and we spent time together. But they have husbands, and I'm lonely. I'm the only one without a love. The only one without a significant other."

"You lost your mother? I'm so sorry. I lost mine too." Aaron spoke with unshed tears in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Aaron."

"Are you here alone, baby? No friends? They left you all alone?" He pondered.

You nodded your head at your new found friend with a tear trickling down your cheek.

"You know, you aren't alive if you aren't in love." He said grabbing your hand softly.

"Then I'm as good as dead." You said wiping the tear from your eye.

"No, you're not. I believe this is amazing grace. I believe you've been found." Aaron said placing his hand to his lips to kiss it. You feel goosebumps surge through your body and your face blush. You can't look him in the eyes now.

"You came to Vegas for a good time, right? Let me show you a good time." He asked lightly grabbing your chin to look you in the eye.

"I don't know."

"I won't hurt you. I just wanna hold you. Maybe steal a kiss or two. Or three. You're so beautiful."

"You're sweet, but I'm... inexperienced."

Aaron raises an eyebrow. "Meaning that you've never been touched? Ever?"

You look down defeated. In your mind, a man runs away from a virgin. Men want women with experience which you lacked. Surely, Aaron will run for the hills now.

"Your room or mine, baby?" He said with a sexy smirk on his lips. Your eyes shoot up to look at his hundred watt smile. "On second thought," he pauses considering his actions. "Let's go to your room. I'm not too sure about my boss and the guys would feel if I bought you up there."

"I don't want to get you into trouble."

"This is Vegas. If you're looking for trouble, you came to the right place." He laughed. Leading you away from the bar and to the elevator.

❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁

He held your hand all the way up to your floor. You didn't look at the entire ride up, trying to slow down your heart rate.

"You know what my fear is?" Aaron says as you both enter the room. You look at him, waiting for his answer. "I'm afraid that I'll never be loved for me. I feel people love me because... b-b-because of who I know. I swear I get so lonely sometimes."

You grab his hand and lead him to sit on the bed. You look him in the eyes. "I see a beautiful soul with soulful eyes. I don't understand why any woman would not give you a chance. You have a great sense of humor, you're open about your life, handsome, and honest. I'm still confused as to why you want to spend time with me."

Aaron grabs both your hands and looks deep into your eyes and says, "Because I see you. You are a beautiful soul. You're a beautiful woman. I know what it's like to be alone and lost. Hoping someone can see you. When a lonely soul finds another, they make peace and find joy in each other's company."

You smile removing your eyes from his and bit your bottom lip. You feel you face heat up and your heart soars. He takes his hand and places it under your chin so he can look you in the eyes once more.

"Baby, have you ever been kissed?" He asks with wonder in his deep voice.

You scoff and roll your eyes at him. Then reply, "So, because I'm a virgin, that means I've never been kissed?"

"Yes and no. I want to know if you've been kissed properly. On the lips."

"Yes, I have."

He tilts his head at you and quints his eyes as if he doesn't believe you. Then he asks, "What was his name and where did he kiss you?"

You look down. Remember that one special time of your childhood. It was a special moment but it's also tainted with hurt. You take a breath and say, "His name was Gabriel. I was fifteen and..."

"You were at church."

You look at him with shock and disbelief. He finished your sentence like he saw it first hand.

"How did you know that?"

"Well, you told me that you were raised in a strict Christian home. I'm guessing your daddy didn't let you go out much, but to church where there were boys."

"Well, yes. I bet you don't know where though." You look at him with a smirk on his face changing him.

He placed his hand on his chin to play your little game. "Hmm. Let me guess. You two made a plan to sneak off. But to where? My guess is the bathroom."

"Nope. We snook off behind the church!" You laughed.

Aaron snaps his fingers and jolts his wrist. "Damn! That was my next guess! I swear that or the nearest cemetery!"

The two of you laugh at the thought. You shake your and and finish your story about your first kiss. "Yes, well, I was nice and innocent. He was sweet. It didn't work out cause my father didn't believe in me dating. He moved on to the next available girl."

"Was it a French kiss?"

You shook your head and answered no.

"Show me how he kissed you."

You move closer to him on the bed. You look into his blue eyes and notice they're darkening somehow. Then you glance at his pouty lips. He doesn't move. He wants you to come to him. You position yourself closer to him, solely focusing on his eyes as you place lips on his. Your eyes flutter close as you embrace the feeling of his soft, pouty lips. You almost lose your breath. You feel his magnetism it's almost overwhelming.

You pull away, you wait for his judgment on your kiss. He opens his eyes and says, "That was kind and sweet. The way a first kiss should be between kids. Truly innocent." He pauses.

"But?" You ask impatiently waiting for his response.

"I think we can do better than that. You deserve to be properly kissed and fucked."

You blink and advert your eyes for a moment. This is about to be your first time. You hear your father's voice in your head, "Fornicators go to hell and it's worse for women." But you believe differently. You like Aaron. Since you bummed into him at the bar, he has tried to make you comfortable. If he's only looking for a one night stand it may crush you but you'll risk it for a good time. Get it out your system now.

Aaron tilts your head up to him at him. "Ready to try a French kiss, baby?"

"Sure."

He grins slightly and tells you, "Open your mouth just a little bit and place the tip of your tongue at the bottom of your lower. Over your teeth."

You do as instructed feeling extra shy under the gaze of his ocean hues.

"Relax and close your eyes."

As soon as you do, you feel his soft lips against yours, and his tongue glides across your tongue. You aren't sure if you're doing it right, but you like the feeling. He has his hands gently holding you face, and you softly moan in his mouth. Your stomach drops, and you feel a sensation between your legs. It's all new to you.

He pulls away, and you chase him for another kiss, but he places his index finger lightly on your lips.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you, baby?" He speaks to you low hushed tone as his finger slides down your lips.

You are speechless. All you can do is nod your head. Aaron smirks and kisses the end of your nose. "Baby, have you ever been touched? I've asked you this once, but I want to be sure."

You take his hand and place it over your breast. He laughs at your gesture. "No, Y/N. I mean your special spot between yourself legs. Where your pussy lies."

You blink yourself into reality realizing what he's asking you. The way he says pussy makes that sensation come back between your legs. That word on his lips is the ultimate sin. You shake your head no.

He nods at you and slides his hand down from breast to your tummy and pauses. "May I touch you there?"

You nod your head and he quints at you. "Y/N, I need you to use you words, baby."

"Yes, please. Touch me." The excitement is too much. You feel that sensation between your legs begin throb and you start to breath heavy.

"Okay. Lay back."

As lay back on the bed, Aaron slips his hand under your dress and under your lace panties. The touch alone sends you sky high. You audibly inhale and moan at his touch. You feel his fingers explore your pussy.

"You are so wet. So needy. You've never touched yourself have you, baby?"

"N-no." You answer in a breathy tone.

Aaron grins at you and says, "Let me introduce you to your clit. Right here is your special friend. Your bud. Can you feel that?"

"I've been feeling that since you kissed me."

"Let me show you a real kiss." He said, removing his fingers from vagina. Licking the slick away from his fingers, he grabs your hands to sit you up in the bed. Aaron proceeds to remove your dress and toss it to the side, leaving you in your bra and panties. "I do love this dress."

He examines your body. Admiring your curves and ways as he lightly traces your thighs and hips with his hands. You feel quite shy under his gaze and cover your breasts with your hands and arms. He takes one of your hands and kisses it, cupping your hand to his face.

Aaron places your hand back to your chest and begins to work your curves once more. He eases his finger tips into the upper sides of your panties and carefully pulls them down your legs.

Your heart races because you believe this is the moment of truth. The moment he fills you up with his hard dick and fucks you into oblivion. But no. He humbles himself before you and kneels. Spreading your legs apart, he lightly plunges his head into your pussy and licks your clit. A delayed breath escapes your mouth and you gasp. This man is showing you things you never known existed. Blowing you mind lick by lick.

He needs you to be closer to him, so he roughly pulls you closer to him, placing your legs over his shoulders. "Look at me." He says before circling his tongue back to your clit. Your head jolts back at the sensation and you moan loudly. You feel him stop.

"I need you to look at me when do this, baby. Can you be a good girl and focus, Y/N?"

You prop yourself up on your elbows once more. "Yes, Aaron. I can." You speak nearly out of breath, rocking your hips slightly at him.

He grins at you and lightly kisses the top of your clit. His eyes never leaving yours. He sticks his tongue out and gets back to working on your clit.

You are absolutely hypnotized at this moment. Just focusing on him has you reeling and moaning. Then he surprises you by slipping two of his fingers inside of you. The surprise is too much, causing you to jolt your head back yelling loudly. "Oh my...fuck!"

You slowly feel yourself coming undone layer by layer. All those excuses of why you haven't done this before are out the window as you grind into his face. All your resolve, gone. Your virginity? It won't be long now.

As his fingers work furiously on your pussy and his tongue glides across your clit rapidly, you begin to combust from the inside out. The flame that ignited inside you is now quenched. Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you collapse on the bed. All your strength is gone. Your mind is blown. You place one hand on your face and rake your fingers through your hair with your other hand as you catch your breath.

"That's a real kiss, honey." Aaron says, pulling you back into reality with his deep Southern drawl. You feel giddy, and you begin to breathy giggle. He crawls on top of you, and you can see his lips drenched with your rain. You calm yourself as he glazes into your eyes. You see his eyes have completely darkened to a stormy black. As if it's the calm before the storm. He places his lips on yours, and you taste yourself. It's enough to drive you nuts! You wrap your legs around his waist to hold him in place. You then wrap your arms around his neck and head, grazing your hands into his hair. You never really touched his hair. You realize in this moment how soft and fine it actually is.

You lose yourself in his embrace. He moves away from your lips and kisses your cheek, and then down to your neck before looking at you once again. "Uh-oh, I think she likes it. How do you feel?" He says, tracing your lips with his fingers.

You blink trying to find your words, but nothing comes out. When they finally do all you can muster up is, "I'm ss-speechless. That was the best kiss I've ever had. Thank you."

He kisses your forehead and leans into you, resting his head between your neck and head. He's so warm. You take your hand rake it through his hair. You don't know it, but this comforts him. You're afraid to speak and ruin this next to perfect moment. "Aaron, this is a great way to end the night."

He moves his head to look at you and says, "End the night? Baby, the fun has just started. I'm not done playing with you yet." Your eyes widen at his words in surprise. "There's more?"

"Yes, baby much more." Aaron entices you, kissing your lips once more.

Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @plasticfantasticl0ver @pianginferno @powerofelvis @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates

#Elvis x Y/N #Elvis x reader #Elvis #ElvisPresley #ElvisinVegas #Vegas

#elvispresley #elvis x reader #elvis fans #elvis x y/n #elvis #70s elvis #romance #vegas #ElvisPresleySeries #i'm aaron

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workingforthewidow · 8 months

Text

‘What you were wearin’ on the first night we met’

Welcome to part 2 of the Sun to Me series.

This story is NSFW and not for minors- if you are under 18 go ask your legal guardian if you can watch the movie.

Warnings: kidnapping, forced marriage, dub-con, attempted non-con, abuse, Stockholm syndrome, age gap (15 years- K&C are 19 Sinclairs are 33 soon to be 34 yes we will have a birthday party for them). Don’t like it don’t read it,

Proof read quickly. It’s 9pm and I’m about to sleep but wanted to get this out! I will proofread again in the morning!

Please reblog! I love seeing what y’all comment and tag :)

Request open see the pinned post for guidelines!

—

‘Oh my goodness why is it so hot? Sure it’s the middle of August but damn it shouldn’t be this hot. Ow fuck why does my head hurt?’ The thoughts swirled around Katie’s brain as she slowly came back into consciousness. She felt a weight around her neck and reached her hand up to feel metal encircling her throat. Her eyes opened and she took in the room around her. She was on a mattress on the floor and the metal around her neck was attached to the wall like she was a dog on chain. She looked down to see she was wearing her clothes. But the small joy disappeared when she realized they weren’t the clothes she had earlier. Someone had gone through her bag and changed her clothes.

The room was dimly lit with candles everywhere. That explained the heat. She could barely see around farther than 5 feet away. She looked around and couldn’t see or hear Caroline anywhere. Panic started to fill her body. Her breathing started to quicken.

“CAROLINE! CAROLINE!” She started screaming hoping to get some idea of where her sister was. She kept screaming her name until she heard a door swing open.

She pushed herself back as far against the wall as she could fear taking over the panic filling her. Tears filled her eyes as long jean clad legs came into view. Her eyes trailed up to see man with long black hair wearing an expressionless mask staring down at her.

“My sister, where is my sister?” She chocked out a sobbing beg.

The man continued to look at her before pulling out a notepad from his pocket and writing on it. Then he held it down to her.

~She is safe. So are you.~ He took back and began writing again.

“Why am I here? What are you doing to us?” She whispered though her sobs.

The man continued writing.

~I will explain later. I am going to get you food you have been asleep for 10 hours. Are you allergic to anything? Or your sister? Bo probably won’t think to ask that.~

Katie’s head spun again. So this guy and Bo knew each other. Maybe this guy was the owner of the museum, it would make sense seeing as it looked like this mask was made of wax.

“We can’t eat seafood. Fish or shellfish of any kind. But that’s it.” She said trying to hold back the tears. She thought back to all the crime shows she had watched, maybe if she went along things will be okay.

The man nodded and patted her head awkwardly like he didn’t know how to act around her. Maybe she was the first person he had ever held hostage. The man then turned and walked back of the room leaving Katie alone. Her only thoughts were on Caroline before she passed out again.

When she woke again there was a paper plate with what looked to be a peanut butter sandwich and chips, and a bottle of water set out next to her. Along with was a note with her name on it, spelled wrong but she knew it was meant for her. She opened the water bottle and was relieved when it popped like a fresh bottle does. ‘Okay so it’s most likely not poisoned.’ She thought picking up the sandwich noting it looked and smelled fine. She took a drink and started eating while she read over the note left for her.

~You are safe I promise. I do not plan to kill you. Your sister is safe as well. Bo won’t kill her.~ Kill it said kill not hurt, so maybe they did plan to hurt the girls. ~My name is Vincent, Bo is my twin. Whatever you need I will get for you just tell me. I hope you can learn to like it here and feel like it is your home. You are mine now and I will take care of you. Just be good and I can be good to you. I will be a good husband for you, my angel.~

‘Oh my god. Oh my god. They want wives? Why us?’ Her tears came flowing out again. Hadn’t enough bad things happened to them? First their parents die and they have to sell their house. This trip was suppose to be a fresh start. Drive to the coast and find a little place for the two of them. But now two psychos planned on keeping them.

Her sobs were so loud she didn’t hear the door open or Vincent’s footsteps as he approached. It wasn’t until he put his hand on her chin making her up to him did she notice him. She jumped and tried to move away from his touch but he tightened his grip on her chin holding her in place.

“Please, can I see Caroline? Please. We, we’ve never been this long without talking to each other.” She begged and pleaded with him.

He shook his head and used his other hand to brush at her hair which had fallen out of place sometime during her sleep.

Okay if she couldn’t see Caroline she at least needed to move a little, her legs were going to go to mush if she didn’t use them.

“Okay, umm can I take a shower and use the restroom? Please.” She tacked the please on at the end hoping it would better her chances. He looked at her and at the door and nodded slowly. He reached in his pocket and took out a key. He undid the metal collar around her throat and took her hand to help her stand.

“Thank you.” She said it barely above a whisper. He lead to other side of the room she hadn’t been able to see before. Her suitcase was there- so she was right he had her things. He pointed to the suitcase and she opened it getting some clean underwear and a bra, blood rushing to her cheeks as she quickly grabbed a purple satin set. Why did she let Caroline help her pick her clothes?

She went to grab her jeans but he stopped her, pulling out one of her dresses, a simple purple dress. Okay so this is how the game is going to be played. She could play along, so far he hadn’t physically hurt her or done anything immoral (besides kidnapping). She could play nice and work to find Caroline and get out of this hell. Away from the twin demons.

Once she had clothes in her hands, he put his hand on her back and led her down a hallway into a bathroom. Her toiletry bag already on the little shelf above the toilet.

The man, Vincent, looked at her then pointed to a watch on his wrist before holding up both hands then one hand. It took her a minute but she got it.

“I have 15 minutes?” He nodded and went to close the door and glared at her. “You’re going to stand at the door and wait for me?” She guessed again earning another nod. She nodded back and as soon as the door was closed started the water as hot as she could make it. While the water warmed she used the toilet realizing it had been well over 24 hours since the last time she had been able to use one. Once the water was hot she stepped in, and in an effort to conserve time she brought her toothbrush and brushed her teeth while she wet her hair. Not seeing any soap or shampoo she took the little travel bottles from her bag. Hopefully this Vincent man would get her some more if he really did plan on keeping her.

She showered as quickly as she could and climbed out of the shower drying off with the towel that had been hanging on a hook. She got dressed and brushed her wet hair highly doubting there would be a hair dryer anywhere. She looked in the mirror and was pleasantly surprised to see that she didn’t look completely awful. Sure her eyes were red and a little swollen from all the tears but maybe her mama was right, a good shower is good for the soul. She took one last look and opened the door.

True to his word Vincent was standing in front of the door, his back facing her. He turned and looked her up and down. He took her hand a walked her back to the room she was in before. But instead of going to the bed he sat her in a chair before standing behind her. She had no idea what was going to happen and her breath began to quicken. It slowed when she felt a brush being gently pulled through her hair, his hands even gentler than her own. After a few minutes he stopped and started parting her hair. It took her a moment but she realized he was braiding it. She stayed silent waiting for him to finish. She felt him drop her hair and then felt his fingers tracing the lines of some of the tattoos on her shoulders. His touch was light like a feather. Once he was done he awkwardly patted her head again and took her hand bring her back to the mattress.

While walking the short distance Katie felt her hair and noted he had done an amazing job at a double French braid held together at the end with what felt like average rubber bands. She would have to get her hair-ties from her bag and try to get him to use those if this would be common practice. She wondered if his mother had taught him to braid or he taught himself with his long hair. They got to the bed and he gestured for her to sit back down. Her eyes widened when he took the metal collar in hand, “Please, I promise I won’t run or do anything stupid. It… it… hurts. Please.” The tears had returned, running down her freshly cleaned face.

Vincent cocked his head looking at her and she assumed he weighing his options. He moved to another area in the room and she could hear him rummaging around some boxes. He returned seconds later with handcuffs. He held them in one hand and the metal collar in the other, giving her the choice. She didn’t trust her voice not to crack from the sobs and pointed to the handcuffs before holding her arms up, praying he didn’t make her put them behind her back. Thankfully he took her arms in front of her and locked the cuffs into place before pushing her, forcing her to lay down. Once he was sure she’d stay he walked away again before returning with his notepad and pen.

“Oh umm, you spelled my name wrong.” She said carefully, hoping her tone conveyed that she wasn’t upset or mad. Maybe having a somewhat normal conversation with him would help her situation. It was a pretty common mistake for someone to misspell her name. “You spelled it like how Captain Janeway spells her name. But my name is spelled like Catherine Zeta-Jones.” She couldn’t see his face but she could feel his confusion. “Oh um those pop culture references but I guess y’all don’t get much tv or movies out here. My name is spelled C-a-t-h-e-r-i-n-e not K-a-t-h-r-y-n, it happens all the time. I just thought since I’m living here now and all I should tell you. But if you want to call me Katie that’s fine. Most people do. And that is spelled with a K, K-a-t-i-e.”

Vincent nodded and scribbled down his reply, ~I like Catherine. Pretty name for a pretty girl. I will talk to Bo and see if you can see Caroline tomorrow. Do you want dinner?~

Caroline. He would let her see Caroline. That meant she was alive right? He couldn’t be that cruel as to give her false hope. “Thank you. I really just want to sleep. If that’s okay. There’s just so much going on.” It was then she realized she didn’t even know what time or even what day it was. She was in a basement of some sort with no clocks or windows.

Vincent nodded and wrote once more, ~Sleep would be good for you. I will be in the next room working. If you need anything come to me. I will know if you try to leave and it will not end well for you or your sister.~

Katie’s eyes tears up again, she hoped soon her tears would dry up, “Okay. I promise I will be here.” He stayed for a few minutes and watched her as she fell asleep before going back to his studio.

—

Caroline could feel pressure on her wrist and on her ankles. She tried wiggling them to no avail. Her eyes slowly opened but quickly widen when she took in her surroundings. She was in some kind of doctors chair with her hands and feet secured down. She couldn’t see Katie anywhere.

“Katie! Catherine!” She screamed hoping her sister would come out of somewhere.

“Baby if you wanna keep that tongue in your pretty little mouth you better shut the fuck up.” She heard a voice above her and looked up to see a sewer grate and the mechanic, Bo, standing over it. “I’ll be down there in a minute, you just calm down.”

Calm down? How the hell could she calm down? She was tied down in a basement and her sister was missing! What was she suppose to do? Katie had always been the one with the plans. Katie would know what to do. Thinking of her twin made the tears really start coming down her cheeks. Was she dead? Had he hurt her?

While these thoughts floated in her head she heard the door being pushed open and watched as Bo walked in like he didn’t have a worry in the world.

“Good morning baby. Slept a lot longer than ya sister. Heard her crying to Vinny already.” Katie was alive. Caroline didn’t say anything as Bo got closer to her and brushed her hair away from where it had fallen in her face. “Stop wiggling. Gonna mess up your wrist. Now if you promise to be good I’ll take the cuffs off. Let you eat and take a shower.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a knife.

Caroline looked to him with fear filled eyes and nodded.

“Wanna hear your words baby. Be a nice girl and use your manners.”

“Please take the cuffs off. I promise I’ll be good.” Her voice was soft and quiet like she was thinking over each word she said before saying it.

Bo smirked at her and carefully slid his knife under the duct tape undoing her wrist and ankles. He offered her his hand and helped her stand up, “Good girl. That wasn’t so hard now was it? Come ‘ere. Got your suitcase from your car. Picked a nice little outfit for you.” He lead her through a long hallway to a small bathroom. Her bathroom bag and a stack of clothes sat on the edge of the sink.

Bo pushed her in, following behind her, and closed the door.

“You have 15 minutes. After that I’m opening the door. Your choice if you want an audience yet or not.” He said holding her face to keep her eyes on his. “Tell me you understand.”

“Yes, 15 minutes. I understand.” He seemed to take that answer and stepped out of the room.

She made quick work of the using the restroom and getting in the shower. She tried to think of what was happening but all her thoughts lead her back to Katie. Trying to distract herself, she almost started her hair routine but cringed when she realized that was a mistake. It took her 10 minutes to get through the whole thing and that didn’t include washing her body or anything else. Maybe she was faster than she thought. If she had at least 10 minutes she could just do the routine quickly and hope the shampoo falling from her hair would be enough to wash her body for now.

“Bo?” She called softly hoping he wouldn’t open the door, “How much time do I have?”

“9 minutes.” His replied was muffled by the door.

Okay she could do it. She started the routine quickly running through all the steps. She finished and grabbed the towel off the sink drying herself before getting dress. Just as she was finishing putting on her bra and underwear, a soft baby pink matching lace set, the door swung open revealing a very happy looking Bo.

He let out a whistle and looked her over, pausing at her chest for longer than she liked. “Guess I do get a show today. Look at you didn’t expect to see all that on you.” He gestured to her tattoo covered body.

“Katie’s a tattoo artist and a seamstress. I do hair and makeup. We practice on each other. Hers is just a bit more permanent.” Caroline was suddenly very aware of how little clothing she had on. “Can I get dressed now? Please, sir.” She asked batting her eyelashes innocently. He said wanted a nice girl with manners and she’d be sure to use all the training her southern belle mama had put her through. Katie may have more book smarts than she did but Caroline knew how to play a man.

Bo’s smirk somehow got even darker than it already was, “Now look at that. She does have manners. I like that baby, you can keep that up. Put your clothes on hurry up. Need to eat.”

She took the clothes off the sink feeling his eyes watching her every move. She was expecting her tiny shorts and a crop top but he had taken one of her dresses. She pulled it one and tried to get the zipper up her back but failed. She tried again and huffed when she couldn’t get it.

“Let me do it baby.” His fingers moved down her spine slowly enjoying how soft her skin was. He easily pulled the zipper and moved her wet hair over one of her shoulders. Bending down he kissed the other shoulder where it met her neck.

“Thank you.” She said trying to keep up the act. She decided to try her hand at a request to see what she could get, “Can I… can I, please, dry my hair? Or can you do it? My dress will get messed up if it get wet. My hair supplies bag is in my suitcase.” She looked up at the mirror in front of her and caught his gaze. He was smirking again.

He kissed her neck again and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her back to his chest. “I guess since you asked so nicely I’ll let you. Can’t have my pretty little wife walking around in messed up clothes.”

Caroline felt like she was going to vomit. Wife. What the fuck was this psycho talking about? She was so wrapped in her head she didn’t even notice he had left the room and came back with things. She went to grab them but he held them in one hand high above his head. He was at least a foot taller than her so the objects were far from her reach.

“If you want them you gotta pay the price baby.” He pulled her against his chest and pressed his lips to hers. Her first reaction was to pull away but she reminded herself to play along. She let him kiss her, letting him move his lips against hers, and when his tongue traced along the seam of her lips she let him in.

He finally pulled away after what felt like a lifetime, “Good girl. Do that curly thing again. I like that and keep it down.” She nodded and started drying her hair trying to do it as quickly as possible.

Bo stood in the doorway blocking her in just in case she decided to be brave and get away from him. Damn she was pretty. His pretty little housewife. He had always wanted the perfect family. Pretty little wife to cook and clean while he went to work. He’d come home and she’d be waiting at the door for him beer in hand and a welcome home kiss while their kids ran up to him wanting hugs from their daddy. It would be perfect just like he dreamed.

“Bo…. Bo?” He didn’t hear her softly saying his name until she put her hand on his chest. “Are you okay? You looked as spaced out as I do when Katie starts going off about whatever book she’s reading.” She giggled softly thinking of her sister and Bo thought it was the prettiest music he had ever heard.

“Just fine, baby. Thinking about how pretty you are and what a good little wife and mama you’re gonna be.” He ran his hand through her soft curls happy she had followed his directions. “You promise to be good?”

He made it sound like he was going to offer something. She’d take anything she could get at the moment. “Yes, sir, I will be good.”

“Good girl. Gonna take you home now. Gotta lot of work for you and that sister of yours if Vincent lets her out of the studio.” He took her hand and led her out of the underground. Seeing sunlight was nice and feeling it against her skin was even better. They walked to his truck his hand holding hers tightly a sign for her not to run. He opened the truck door and helped her up before climbing in the driver side. He pulled her across the bench seat and wrapped one arm around her waist while driving with the other.

‘Play the game Caroline it’s just a game.’ She reminded herself to give her the courage to do what she was about to do.

She turned her head and pressed her lips to his cheek briefly, “Thank you, this is my favorite dress.” ‘Be calm and play the game.’ He’s a man, Mama always said all men what two things- food and sex. One she could do with ease, the other not so much. Mama raised them with the church to be good pure girls.

Bo took his arm from her waist and moved his hand to her thigh, squeezing a little harder then she was expecting. “You’re welcome baby. You keep being good and I’ll make sure you have everything your little heart wants.”

One more try, she would try one more time to see Katie today, “Can I see Katie yet? Please just for a minute.” She had been able to hold back the tears for a long time but finally thinking about her sister again made them flow.

Bo sighed and rolled his eyes gripping her thigh again. “Not right now. You make me a good lunch and start your housework and maybe I’ll think about it. Okay?”

She nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Luckily this time he didn’t make her speak it. Her voice would probably crack if she had to speak right now. Finally they made it to the house and he lead her inside to the kitchen.

He open the fridge and grabbed a beer, “Make whatever you want with what we got. Make a list of things you’ll need and I’ll have Lester pick them up next time he goes out to the city for supplies,” he noticed the confusing on her face at the mention of Lester, “Les is the youngest brother. Me and Vincent are twins but Mama said I’m the older one. Then Lester came 3 years later.” He didn’t know why he told her all that but maybe it was good he felt comfortable telling her about their family that fast. She was the new Sinclair matriarch in a sense. “Now get to cooking baby. You got a lot to learn to be a good little wife.”

She rummaged around the kitchen finding enough things to make chicken and beans. There didn’t seem to be a fruit or vegetable in the house at all. Those would be first on her list. While she moved around the kitchen finding things she needed to cook, Bo sat at the table with his beer and went over his expectations for his new ‘wife’.

1.) No leaving the house without him or one of his brothers being with her

2.) Make sure all meals are made on time. He can’t be late for work. (Caroline wondered how you can be late for work when you are the owner and boss.)

3.) When he comes home at the end of the day she was to be at the door waiting of him, smile on her face and beer in hand, ready for his welcome home kiss

4.) Make sure the house stays clean, can’t have anything dangerous out once babies start coming. But only rooms with the doors open. He closed all the rooms she wasn’t allowed in.

5.) If she sees anyone in town besides one of the boys she was not allowed to speak to them unless it was to direct them to the boys. As soon as the strangers were gone she was to go to their room and hide. And if she heard screams- no she didn’t.

“Get all that through your pretty head, baby?” He asked her while she plate his food and sat in front of him.

“Yes, stay home, cook, clean, don’t talk to strangers, beer and kiss when you come home.” Like a good southern wife. He didn’t have to tell her most of those rules her mama already had. Hopefully if her twin was with his twin he wasn’t wanting what Bo wanted. Katie didn’t grasp all this the way Caroline did. Katie’s nose was too stuck in books to learn anything about this.

“Good. Where’s your food?”

“Not hungry. Just tired.” She even yawned at the end. He had said she slept all night but she felt like she had been hit by a truck. Bo pulled her onto his lap and held a sliced chicken to her lips.

“You can take a nap after you eat something. Can’t have ya withering away on me. You gotta be nice and healthy for our babies.” His other hand ghosted over her empty midsection as if to pretend a life was growing instead. Caroline had to control herself not to cringe and slowly chewed the meat. That seemed to satisfy Bo for while. He ate the whole meal occasionally feeding her bits of it.

“I knew I found a good one,” he said kissing her shoulder, “That was better than anything Mama ever made. You still wanna nap?”

Caroline yawned and nodded her head, “Please.”

Bo smiled and stood still holding her in his arms. She wrapped her legs about his waist to hold herself. He carried her up a staircase and into what she assumed was his room.

“Once I know you’re really gonna be good I’ll let ya redecorate. Give it a woman’s touch.” He said laying her down on the bed and pulling a blanket over her. “I gotta go see Vinny. You stay here and nap. If you wake up and I’m still gone you can go to the kitchen and wash dishes. I’m being nice since you’re still learning but after today dishes are done before bed.” She nodded as he continued this time getting in her face his forehead against hers, noses touching. “If I come back to this house and you aren’t in this room, the bathroom next door, or the kitchen- I will take my shotgun and shoot your sister in between the eyes, before coming for you. Understand baby?”

Tears sprang to her eyes immediately and she nodded her head fiercely, “Y-ye-yes, Bo. Yes, sir. I understand. I promise I will be good.”

That seemed to make Bo happy since he kissed her softly and left her to fall asleep.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher fanfic #slasher fic #slashers #bo sinclair #brian van holt #vincent sinclair #Sadly no Jonesy this chapter #She will return for the birthday party #house of wax fic

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mamalunawolf · 10 months

Text

Hopelessly Devoted

Theme: Fluff, nsfw, some kissing, nudity, minors not allowed.

Victor Rookwood x F!Reader

Warning: unedited, sexual content (light), verbal language

No Minors allowed

Ft. Victor Rookwood, Poppy, Natsai, and MC

Characters aged up to 18

After the battle between MC and Ranrok. Amaya still continued to do what she did best. Defeat the renaming goblin loyalists. Raid poacher camps and attack ashwinders. The only thing that changed was the fact Victor ran off into hiding. Unable to find him except for Harlow with the help of Natty. Before she did have a slight crush on the man. Who didn’t? But she knew he was an enemy. Someone she could never be around.

Now it has been two years. She was in her seventh year at Hogwarts. She grew up. Matured. Still stubborn of course. She was more perceptive of her surroundings. On occasion if her friends were to tag along. Which she tried to avoid as much as possible.

She stood inside the forbidden forest that night. Hearing sightings of a man wandering the forest from the people of Hogsmeade. She had her wand out, her ears open to listen. The crunching of leaves beneath her boots.

“You know…it isn’t safe for a woman like you to be out here.” MC pointed her wand in the direction of the voice. “Come out! Now!” In the shadows, he appeared. Wearing his familiar top hat. His familiar physique stood before her. He gave her a smug look. His black and gray stubble on his face. “Rookwood! So we meet again..” MC sneered at him. He narrowed his eyes. Looking the woman up and down. He chuckled, his voice raspy as he spoke. “Now if it isn’t the girl…that took everything from me.” MC scoffed, “As if I take everything from you!” He shouted back, “You took my home! You took the repository that was rightfully mine!” He stepped closer to her. His wand gripped in his hand. His jaw clenched as his breathing became heavier. “I stole nothing from you, Rookwood!” He pointed his wand at her, he stared at her. Looking at her more as the moonlight hit her face. The subtle features that hid behind the loose strands of hair. She shot a spell at him, “Bombarda!” He fell onto the ground with a grunt, quickly getting back up on his feet. She spun on her heel and started to run. She didn’t watch where she was going as the tree branch caught on her uniform blouse. Ripping it slightly. Exposing some of her cleavage. Victor chased right after her. Finally she got to a clearing, the lake near Jackdaw’s Tomb. Staring down at her reflection. Victor finally catches up to her, “You are just a child!” MC shouted back, “I am not a child! I am a woman! I am not that weak child I was back then! I defeated Ranrok!” Victor growled under his breath, “Don’t speak his name again!” MC stepped closer, “Make me!” VIctor stepped closer to her. His face inches from her, he grabs her by the throat. Pinning her to the wall and his lips crashed against hers. A fire lit inside them. Something that was hard to explain. Her hands wrapped behind his neck. His hands gripped the sides of her hips. His one hand glided down the back of her thigh. His lips aggressively moved to her neck. Leaving nibbles and marks on her. She let out a soft puzzled moan. Her leg hoisted up to the side of his hip. His other hand traveling down to her inner thigh and feeling the sensitivity under the undergarments. Close to the entrance that was in between her legs. The feeling of how moist she had become in that sudden moment between them.

She shoved him off, “Enough! I can’t do this. I can’t be here.” As she fixed herself. Looking down at the bulge that was poking from his pants. She picked up her wand and with a crack she was gone from the forest. Returning back to Hogwarts. Victor smiled from where he was. He whispered in the open air, “We shall meet again…under…a better circumstance, my dear.”

---

After that day, for the past few weeks, various gifts arrived for MC. Necklaces, treats, healing elixirs, anything that made any person blush. She even became infatuated with this mysterious stranger. Poppy and Natty sat beside her as a letter came in for her. “What is it, MC? Is it your secret admirer again?” Poppy enjoyed seeing the gifts since it brought more excitement to Hogwarts. She opened the letter and began reading it,

My little nightingale,

Each day, I watch you. I think of you each day and night. I hope you enjoy the gifts I have given you in these last few weeks. And the wait is finally over. There is a masquerade ball coming up. I hope to see you there.

S.A

A masquerade ball? Mc looked up from the letter and looked over at Poppy and Natty. "Do we have a masquerade ball?" Natty nodded, "Yes. We have it for the next couple weeks. It has been going on for a while. Now that we will have one, do you not have a dress or a mask?" Mc gasped, "oh merlin! I need to get a dress and a mask!" As she stood up and ran off towards hogsmeade.

The night of the masquerade ball came, Mc was anxious as she was against the wall of the great hall. She wore her mask over her face. Only her lips can be seen and her eyes. In the shadows behind her, a figure placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You look absolutely beautiful this evening…" the voice spoke out. She turned around and saw the man wearing formal attire. His mask covered most of his face. A skull mask that left only his lip and chin revealed.

"Are you…my admirer?" Mc spoke out softly. He extended his hand to her. Placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

"Indeed I am. May I have this dance?" As he bowed slightly, her hand gracefully went in his hand. He was definitely charming.

As they danced the night away. His hand was on her waist and holding her hand. Her free hand was his shoulder. Enjoying themselves as she smiled up at him. "You are a really good dancer. I'm glad none of us stepped on each other's toes." Mc giggles as she twirled around in his grasp. The admirer smiled, "I learned from the best and now I'm showing it off to you. Shall we walk in the garden, my lady?" She nodded, taking his hand. "Yes please. I would love that."

Inside the garden, they walked over towards the bench. They both sat down together. Her hand is still holding his. "Tonight was wonderful. But I would wonder who you are behind the mask." The admirer shook his head, "Patience my dear. I'm going to have to keep this mask on a little longer." She nodded, "I understand.." She looked down at her lap and sighed softly. He took her chin. His fingers gently caressing her cheek. Leaning forward and kissing her lips softly, warm to the touch. When they pulled away. She looked up at him, his hands still on her face. "If you ever need me, think of me. And I'll be there…no matter where I am." He stood up from the bench, and let go of her hand. "I will miss you.." she said softly as she watched him leave. Before he apparated away, he bowed slowly, "I will miss you.." Then he left.

As the days went by, all she could think of was that night at the ball. Her fingers tracing over her lips. She walked aimlessly through the forbidden forest. Overhearing that poachers were abducting unicorns. She stopped behind a tree. Watching as two poachers were caging up the unicorns. One had a foal.

"Oh no…" she whispered. But what caught her off guard, was the poacher that appeared behind her. Grabbing her wand from her grasp and tossing it. "Now you have nothing! We got you now." The poacher laughed menacingly. Gripping her by the throat and dragging her towards the small clearing. The other two poachers grabbed rope and tied her down. She remembered, she closed her eyes and thought of the admirer.

Help…I need..help. I've been ambushed

A moment later, a figure appeared and took down the three poachers. When mc looked over and saw who it was. She went wide-eyed. "Victor?" The poacher he was holding gasped for air. He looked over at her and back at the poacher. "Release the unicorns at once!" The Poacher staggered up, "but boss?" Victor went to his face, "I said now!" The poacher began releasing the unicorns. Victor came up to Mc and knelt beside her. "Are you alright? Any injuries?" Mc shook her head, "No…but..you. you are my admirer?" Victor sighed deeply and nodded, "Yes…w..when I'm with you. I feel different. I feel as if time is meaningless. I regret all the things I've done. I want to change. For you." He looked over as the poacher had finally left. Looking back at her as he gently took her hands, "Forgive me?" She stood up eventually and looked at him. Leaning forward and softly kissing him.

Inside the bedroom, he held her close. Kissing her gently. His touch on her soft skin was enough to get her going. Her body shuddered from his touch. He placed her on the edge of the bed. Her legs closed together as he leaned forward. His hands on both sides of her outer thighs. His lips kissed ever so lightly on her neck. Her head tilted to the side to give him access. His right hand went up her skirt. Hiking it up enough to give him access to her undergarments. Slipping them off slowly.

“Victor…Please..don’t tease me. I want this as much as you do.” She begged, her moans suppressed into his neck. Her one hand on her shoulder while the other was holding herself on the edge of the bed. He looked at her with a seductive glimmer in his eyes. His voice low with a half smile, “As you wish..” With a swift motion, her undergarments were gone. Her skirt unbuttoned quickly. He grasped her white blouse and ripped it off. “Don’t worry…I will buy you a new uniform.” He whispered before passionately kissing her. Her hands went to the belt buckle quickly. His thick member sprung out. Happily awaiting to be inside her. He hoisted her up and lifted her. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Her body pressed against the wall. His cock's pre-cum oozing slightly as it was at her entrance. His hands held her legs to his side as he slid himself in with force. Her moans were muzzled into the crook of his neck. Each hard pelvic thrust into her core kept going. It was what she imagined it would be. He growled into her ear as his hips bucked, feeling the warm moist walls that surrounded him. “Merlin…you feel good, my sweet.” Her nails dug into his shoulders. Their moans echoing throughout the room. Her lower abdomen began to heat up, a flame igniting inside her womb. His seed filled her insides whole, hearing him growl in her ear as they both climaxed together.

They laid together in the bed, her head resting on his chest. Her fingers tracing over his chest and arm. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

“So you want to take over the world?” Victor asked her, joking of course. Just to tease the ‘Hero’ of Hogwarts. She looked up at him and laughed, “No. Victor, that's not how it works.” She yawned a bit as she nuzzled into him. “Well as long as you are by my side. I wouldn’t have it any other way. How does that sound?” Victor asked her, a loving smile on his face. She nodded, “That I don't mind.” They fell asleep next to each other. Her soft breathing near him put him at ease.

“I love you, MC…only you will make me a better man.” He whispered before falling asleep.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts oc #victor rookwood

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aylacavebear · 2 months

Text

Stockroom Antics - Chapter 11

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 1242

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic. This one is taking on a life of it's own in a turn I hadn't anticipated, so adding a new tag.

----------------------------------------- Stockroom Antics Chapter 11

You’d used your powers to set up your room comfortably, deciding it might be better to fully explore what you were really capable of doing.

When Dean talked about the King of Hell, all the nightmarish images from movies and television shows played through your mind. The one that stuck was the character from the movie Legend.

The man that appeared in the devil’s trap was not what you’d expected to see, nor was hearing his Scottish accept. He looked like a regular man to you. His words took you by surprise, as he didn’t seem to be mean, let alone like anything you’d envisioned in your mind. The pet names got on your nerves, though.

When he disappeared, you headed back out to the library, leaving the brothers in the room they’d summoned him in. Your mind wandered to what Crowley had said, that those who depend on the brothers tend to end up dead. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew very little about the two of them.

You stared at the books on the table, then focused your thoughts, wanting to figure out how to fully unlock your powers. A part of you was worried that it might make you a bigger target, but you also felt safe being in the bunker than at your home. The books moved around, about an inch off the table. Two of them then set themselves down directly in front of you. Before you could reach down and touch either of them, they opened to pages with the information you were seeking.

For a brief moment, you glanced toward the hallway where the archive room was, and when you didn’t see either of the brothers, you looked back down at the books. You reached your hand out, picking the books up before heading into your room, closing the door behind you. This way, neither of the brothers could interfere.

Once you were comfortable at your desk, you began reading. The first book gave you an extremely long chapter on finding true love with your soulmate, and the first kiss would basically unlock all your powers. To that idea, you just rolled your eyes, never believing in such fairy tales, as you called them,

The second book, however, held more technical information. There were spells that could be performed, but you had to be a skilled witch to do them, so you ignored that section. The other parts talked about doing bigger and grander things, pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion at every opportunity available but no less than once a day.

You sighed as you looked up from the book. That was something you’d never done, not even remotely close, and you weren’t sure if you were capable. But at the same time, it was more plausible than finding that whole soulmate thing the other book talked about.

A groan left your lips as you leaned back in your chair, glancing at your door. You weren’t sure how long you’d been in your room or what the brothers were up to. The things from the first book you’d read came back to your mind, the things it said you could do.

Now, you just had to figure out what to expend your energy on. You slipped both the books under the mattress of your bed, as you didn’t want either of the brothers to know that stuff. Then, you headed out toward the library, hearing their muffled voices from the hallway. You inched closer, staying hidden.

“I know there were two more books out here, Dean,” Sam argued.

“I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe she has ‘em?” Dean suggested.

“Why wouldn’t she just read out here, though?” Sam sighed, sounding frustrated.

You were leaning against the wall of the hallway, very near the opening. You couldn’t see them, but what they were talking about made your heart rate increase a bit. The last thing you wanted was for them to find the information you’d just read.

“Maybe she wanted to be alone after what Crowley said. I still don’t trust that demon,” Dean stated, sounding frustrated.

“He’s got to know something about her powers if he wants her as bad as he does,” Sam sighed.

“You think he knows more than we do?” Dean asked.

You heard Sam sigh again, “He might. He’s probably got access to information we don’t. I mean, it’s possible, at least, and we should just assume that he does.”

Dean groaned, “That’s gonna make protecting her harder if she wants to leave.” “Then we should be grateful she agreed to stay here,” Sam seemed to try to reassure his brother.

“You really think she’ll keep her word, even after what Crowley said?” Dean asked.

For a moment, you felt bad for a couple of reasons. They were trying to keep you safe after all, and here you were sneaking around, keeping information from them. At the same time, though, that statement from Crowley was still fresh in your mind.

You took a deep breath and then returned to your room, grabbing both books. You’d never been the kind of person to let others influence your decision about someone, and the last thing you were going to do now was let the King of Hell do that to you.

I can do this…

You held the books and joined the brothers in the library, giving them a friendly smile, “I borrowed these,” you said apologetically as you set them down near Sam. Then you sat on the other side of Dean.

They both watched you, “Uh, thanks…” Sam said, seeming slightly puzzled.

“Find anything useful?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

You just shrugged your shoulders, “Not really,” you answered, then grabbed another book to thumb through. You weren’t really looking for anything, just trying to keep your mind occupied. It wasn’t a complete lie. At the moment, the information you'd found didn’t seem completely useful to you.

With your eyes on the book, you missed the brothers' silent conversation with just their expressions. You could see both of them in your peripherals, but you were only slightly paying attention. Sure, you had lots of questions that you wanted to ask them, but you were reserved, wondering just how they were viewing you. Were you just another case to them, or did they want to get to know you and let you get to know them?

“You okay?” Sam asked, sounding almost concerned.

You looked up from your book, “Probably as good as can be expected, given everything,” you told him, honestly.

“Is there anything we can do to make this easier on you?” he asked you, and to you, he sounded genuine.

For a moment, you pursed your lips, debating your question, then asked, “Am I just another case to the two of you?” You did your best to keep your tone as neutral as possible, but you were sure that a hint of hope and even some possible sadness had made it out.

The brothers shared another brief look, and you noticed Dean sigh, but it was Sam who spoke, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are our case. We really do want to keep you safe.”

Somehow you managed to just give them a small smile and then went back to your book.

I’m just a case… Those words reverberated in your mind as you read.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 12

Link to the series Master List

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, leave me a comment, and I'll make sure to tag you.

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ourgreatergood · 1 year

Text

I posted 545 times in 2022

That's 450 more posts than 2021!

20 posts created (4%)

525 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cinnamoncountess

@yumbledore

@folklorealbus

@love-arrogance-naivety

@lemon-drops-and-acid-pops

I tagged 82 of my posts in 2022

#grindeldore - 38 posts

#gellert grindelwald - 24 posts

#fb - 22 posts

#nicolas fantastic fanfiction - 21 posts

#hp - 18 posts

#albus dumbledore - 18 posts

#fantastic beasts - 15 posts

#tsod - 11 posts

#nicolas ordinary life - 9 posts

#tsod spoilers - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 67 characters

#i posted this on 4th of july 2019 and just stumbled across it again

My Top Posts in 2022:

I wrote a little something inspired by Heaven (from the OST of Secrets of Dumbledore) - of course it’s about Albus and Gellert.

It may contain some spoilers for Secrets of Dumbledore, though, so beware!

33 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

if you take angstier prompts: perhaps something with Dumbledore actually being seriously hurt after his battle with Credence/Aurelius, and Grindelwald having some weird angst session about it? (like he still was the one who sent him after Dumbledore with the intent of Dumbledore dying, but when it now becomes a real possibility, he realizes that he really doesnt want him dead?)

Thank you very much! So, I changed the set up a bit because it gave me a reason to explore a theory of mine concerning Gellert’s intentions with Credence, but I tried to capture the gist of Gellert’s angst session! Hope you enjoy! (Also yes, I tried to keep the technicalities of all the magical aspects very vague here bc it would’ve turned too long and honestly I have no idea how everything’s going to work out, either, don’t mind that.)

It was funny how Sight and reality could deviate. When he’d set up the boy to combat Albus he had done so with the conviction that Aurelius would never actually be able to harm Albus. Not clever, powerful Albus. Not Albus, who could shake the world with a flip of his wand. That was exactly why he’d set Credence up to do it.

Hurting Albus physically, magically was almost impossible. (Except for himself, Gellert knew.) But there were a million other ways to hurt a man and Gellert knew all of them and then some more for Albus, simply because he knew him so intimately.

Set up a boy he cares about to fight him. Force him to relive the moment they’d all lost control, yet Gellert was the one to be blamed for. Force him to hurt the boy. All that would do more damage to Albus than any spell ever could, he’d been sure of it.

Of course, he knew that Aurelius would never stand a chance against Albus, despite his vision. Admittedly, he had been curious about how it would play out. How Fate would fit in with the reality he was creating.

He had not expected this, though.

As always, he had forgotten about Albus’s stupid noble heart. Perhaps it was because he could not even imagine the kindness Albus was willing to show that he always underestimated this part of the equation, but once again it had literally blown up in his face.

How in Merlin’s name should he have anticipated that Albus was willing to die for that stupid boy? How could he have imagined that Albus would take the whole blow of the Obscurus and some strange magic Gellert had never seen before but that he was sure Albus had come up with, with the help of Scamander?

Now that his plan had worked out (it hadn’t since this had never really been his plan to begin with) and Fate was seeming to get her way, he realised that he’d been wrong once again. The fear he’d felt, when he’d had that vision was not because of his opponent. It was the cruel, cold fist of fear that was now squeezing his chest at the sight of Albus, pale and motionless and bleeding, lying on the ground, his friends and his brother rushing towards him.

Aurelius, perfectly fine, probably even better than ever before sat on the ground not far from them, dumbstruck at what had happened. It was Aberforth – of course it was – who dared to call out to him and ask if he was all right and Gellert was uncomfortably reminded of a similar afternoon, a lifetime ago it seemed, only that Albus had slipped his hand in his and asked him in a shaky whisper to please, stay and let me explain.

Albus wasn’t moving now. Theseus Scamander was steadily casting Renervate at his chest and Eulalie Hicks was cushioning his bleeding head on her cloak, but nothing happened.

Even from the other side of the plaza he’d felt Albus’s magic vibrating in the air all around them, before. It had been so distinctly familiar that it had almost driven him crazy, but now there was nothing. His own magic was searching, almost desperately, for that familiar trace, for the strings so intricately connected to his own but came up empty.

A feeling unknown to him, like a dark shadow surfacing from the depths of his being, began to rise in his body, constricting his lungs and throat, squeezing his chest, replacing his blood with ice water.

He was constantly surrounded by death these days, he’d told the members of alliance time and again that Albus was the greatest danger to their cause, when he’d been angry, he’d imagined hurting him, but now the prospect of Albus, the only person on this damn earth that it was really worth talking to, the only one, who’d ever been able to understand his mind, the only one, who’d ever known him – gone?

No, he’d never wanted this. He didn’t want this. That stubborn fool couldn’t leave him alone in this shameful world!

If he refused to see how brilliant they could be together for the rest of his damn life, fine, but he couldn’t leave him for good! Albus couldn’t just take his only connection away like that by dying.

He only noticed that his body had started shaking from the tension in his muscles, when Vinda touched his arm, muttering: “We should go.”

“No, wait,” he told her, still observing how Albus’s friends were trying to breathe life back into him. He knew they wouldn’t let him approach them and he couldn’t be seen helping Albus Dumbledore, but all his impulses were pushing him to stride over and pour out all his magic and remind Albus’s blood that it was still bound to earth, bound to life.

“The Aurors will be here soon,” Vinda said. And she was right. They needed to be gone soon, but he couldn’t as long as he wasn’t sure that Albus would live. He watched as Aurelius slowly, carefully stumbled over to the group of people surrounding Albus and for the second time that day he witnessed magic he had never seen before. (He wasn’t sure anyone had seen it before; they were definitely pushing the boundaries of known magical territory.)

He would never understand what it was with phoenixes and the Dumbledores but for a moment he did not care. There was blinding red and gold like a flame and then he could feel the familiar presence of Albus’s magic filling the plaza again, no matter how weak it seemed, and the next moment a dozen Aurors apparated all over the place.

Vinda’s eyes had already widened with fear, when he finally gave her permission to go, following with merely a last glance at Albus’s slowly moving form.

37 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

Promise

This is for @darkangelis, who requested: They meet in secret throughout the war because they can’t stay away from each other but Albus feels so guilty about it he starts to suffer from panic attacks. They normally happen after Gellert has left but one time Albus can’t stop one coming on while he’s still there. Gellert comforts him through it.

I absolutely LOVED writing this, it was very therapeutic and I do love making Albus suffer, so thank you very much for this! I hope you enjoy it!

TW panic attacks

Albus was wondering time and again how he got into all the comfortable hotel rooms in various countries on the continent and in the end he always came up with one simple answer: He wanted to.

He wanted to, even though he knew it was wrong. He wanted to, even though he knew that no decent man would’ve ever done it. He wanted to, even though he despised himself for it.

He never told anyone about it, naturally. Who could he tell? Nobody would understand and the shame he felt over it was so overwhelming that it sealed his lips tightly shut. Perhaps that was the reason for the increasingly severe sessions of discomfort that had started to follow those encounters with Gellert. (Perhaps discomfort was not quite right considering that his throat was so constricted he couldn’t breathe and his body was shaking so much he wasn’t even sure it was his own anymore.)

Back when he’d been eighteen and broken after that summer Nicolas had told him that speaking about it, no matter how hard or impossible it seemed, would relieve him. He’d been right. He’d poured it all out one night, fully expecting Nicolas to tell him what he already knew: that there was something wrong with him. But Nicolas had done no such thing. He’d been kind and understanding and encouraging and somehow that had saved him.

But he wasn’t eighteen anymore and none of this could be blamed on youthful carelessness, on accidents or ignorance. He knew perfectly well who Gellert was and he knew perfectly well what he was doing. Not even Nicolas could tell him there was no shame in that.

He forgot about all that, the moment Gellert kissed him. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, no matter how much he’d tried to suppress it, his heart was longing for it. He was suddenly reminded that his whole being wanted nothing more but to be with Gellert. He remembered everything he’d dreamed of as a boy, of Gellert by his side, of them growing old together. He certainly hadn’t imagined it like this, but if this was all that he would get, he had to take it, no matter how much it hurt him, no matter how wrong it was.

In the beginning a small part of him had hoped that perhaps, Gellert would change his mind, leave his path and return to him, but their irregular meetings continued for more than three decades now and if anything Gellert had become only more determined with his cause.

They weren’t meeting very often, they couldn’t afford it and Albus suspected that the long breaks were doing nothing for his emotional stability. It was always enough time to let him get over the dark pit of guilt and shame and contempt he fell into right after such an encounter. It was even enough time to let him forget how much it hurt every time Gellert left, every time he had to beat himself up afterwards. It was so much time that his heart started missing Gellert again, despite everything. So much time that, when he made a fascinating magical discovery, he instantly thought of sharing it with Gellert until the second passed and reality crept back in that he could not simply tell Gellert about it.

Sometimes this downward spiral was delayed when he heard especially atrocious rumors about what Gellert and his Alliance were doing and he was forcefully reminded of all the blood on Gellert’s hands but even that could not deter him, whenever he found himself faced with a chance encounter or one of Gellert’s subtle invitations. (It was the only dignity he could retain: He would never ask for a meeting, although lately he wasn’t sure anymore if it didn’t make him more pathetic that he came running each time Gellert called.)

Now, though, he found himself once again in a hotel room in a small French village near Versailles (of all places, of course!) with his robe on the floor and Gellert’s hands all over his body.

It was what he would’ve dreamed of at eighteen. A cozy room, a warm summer breeze toying with the curtains leading out to the balcony, a rich country. Foolishly, he’d not imagined a war, he’d not imagined the most powerful wand in the world to have drawn so much blood just the day before Gellert was running it up his leg, vanishing his undergarments.

Gellert’s teeth were grazing the crook of his neck and he felt the thrill of it running through his body, but it was oddly distant. Gellert’s hands and lips on his skin, which had been fire before, emptied his head and had him craving more were suddenly obscured by numbness. Before he knew what was happening, before he could try to do anything about it, his breath was coming in shallow gasps – not of the good kind -, he desperately tried to fill his lungs with oxygen but not air could reach it, his throat was constricted. He could feel his body shaking and tears escaping his eyes, running down his cheeks of their own volition.

“Albus?” He could hear Gellert’s voice, could even recognize the concern in it but he couldn’t speak. His body had forgotten how to obey him, how to do anything but shake with the uncontrollable feeling of dread and doom that was filling out his chest.

“Albus!” Gellert’s hand found his and he could squeeze it, so tightly he was almost worried he could hurt Gellert, but he couldn’t let go. Once his hand had closed around it, it refused any commands his hazy mind might make.

“It’s all right, Albus. Breathe. Slowly.”

Uncontrollable, embarrassing sobs were escaping his mouth as he desperately tried to do as Gellert told him. He tried to get a hold of his breathing again, tried to suck in air slowly.

“Albus. You’re safe, you’re all right. Breathe in and out. In and out.” Gellert was squeezing his hand back, while he was slowly succeeding in slowing down his breathing. “Hey, do you remember the first time we met? You had the tale of the three brothers memorized… There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight.”

“In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across,” his mind supplied automatically. He could feel the tears subside and his body stopped shaking. “However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water.” He could feel Gellert’s hand in his again, the room came into focus again and with it Gellert’s face. His body was listening to him again. He loosened the grip on Gellert’s hand and drew a few shaky but controlled breaths before he slowly sat up.

Gellert pulled the sheets over them and leaned back against the headrest of the bed, while Albus ran his hands over his face and tried to collect the rest of his sanity.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. He felt drained like all energy had been plucked from his body. Here he was now, in a hotel room in France, naked with Europe’s most wanted man next to him and all he wanted was to be somewhere else, to be someone else. He could feel tears rising in his throat again and closed his eyes. It was embarrassing enough to have been so vulnerable in front of Gellert once today, he could not bear a second time. But Merlin, he was sure that this war, that Gellert, that his own despicable traitorous heart would break what he’d tried to put back together years ago.

“Don’t be. Did I do anything – ?” Gellert asked.

He took the hands from his face and shook his head and he almost had to laugh. “No.” He turned his head to look at Gellert, who was watching him curiously (he even imagined there was still a concerned spark in his eyes). “No, it was nothing you did. This just – happens sometimes.”

Of course, it was everything Gellert did outside of this room, outside of this bed. Of course, it was everything Albus didn’t do. It was everything he did do with Gellert. He leaned back against the headrest as well. They wouldn’t be doing a lot today, at least.

“It wasn’t always this bad,” Gellert said and he was right. When he’d been younger, there had been occasions when it had been hard to breathe, when he’d felt similar dread take over his body and he’d taken to recounting magical laws and literature in his head to get through it, but it had been controllable.

“No, that is a recent development,” he sighed.

“Why do you think that is?”

See the full post

40 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

if you take anon prompts, how about Gellert realizing his feelings for Albus? Perhaps he previously though he only wanted to manipulate Albus to make him stay, but suddenly he realizes that his feelings actually are real ones.

Thank you very much! I am taking anon prompts, always feel free to send them! :) this turned into a bit of a character study for Gellert, but I do hope you enjoy it!

It was fascinating. Albus was the most brilliant person in the world. His mind was sharp and precise like a razor blade, yet vast and creative and unconventional. He was the only person really worth talking to, if one was to ask Gellert. And he was so magnificently powerful, too. The way Albus did magic, felt magic was the most beautiful, intriguing spectacle Gellert had ever witnessed. Magic flowed through Albus like blood, he directed the matter around him effortlessly, he altered the earth with a flick of his wrist, he took the most ancient incantations and made them his own.

Albus was everything he had never dreamed to find. An equal in mind and might. Someone he’d never thought could even exist.

It was dazzling, thrilling, that he had chosen a path of fate that led him right to Albus. It was exactly what his plans had needed, without his knowing. What the world had needed.

And yet Albus was so different. He had a warm, noble heart and a kind soul, so much that Gellert sometimes wondered how a mind like his could bear the confinement of his virtue. For all his brooding and rightful bitterness that came with the duty of caring for his siblings, he sternly refused any talk of abandoning them. Albus was patient with even the most dimwitted of people (Gellert was sure that Aberforth was the only one to ever successfully push him into losing his temper.) and he tried to see light in even the darkest of people. Muggles had ripped his family apart and yet, he did not harbor any intimate rancour against them.

Gellert would have thought it foolish if it hadn’t been Albus. He could not say that he agreed with Albus’s gentleness, but he knew that he didn’t have to, anyway. Their plans remained the same and he was more than happy to let Albus care for the muggles in their scheme, while he cared for wizardkind. That’s what they did after all - complement each other. That was why they would change the world for the better, they would create a world for all of humanity. They bore that responsibility together. For The Greater Good, as Albus had so fittingly put it.

He had to admit it took him a few days longer than it usually did to notice the way Albus was looking at him. Not because Albus was very good at hiding it. He was not. Actually, for such a private person, for all the secrecy he’d lived with since he was a young child, for someone with such rhetoric skill - he was exceptionally bad at hiding his affection.

No, he merely had been so caught up in his own admiration for Albus that he hadn’t realized what the faint nervous flutter of Albus’s magic meant, whenever they were especially caught up in an intense debate. Or the lingering stares or the more frequent excuses to touch, however innocently. It was by accident (almost) that he discovered Albus was a lot more lenient with his more forceful suggestions, when they were touching while discussing them (even if it was only their knees brushing, or his arm on the headrest of Albus’s chair).

He respected Albus more than anybody else, so he was reluctant to use this advantage too often. And he was also aware that while Albus was even more willing than usual to see brightness in him, where he was sure was only dark, Albus was no fool and would not simply be played.

He had to admit it sent a very pleasant rush of power through him to have the single other most powerful wizard of their time at his fingertips, willing to be pushed, surrendering control to him. He was sure, Albus was inclined to do anything (almost anything) he would ask of him.

And yet, he had to wonder, why he was so reluctant to play those strings of Albus’s heart whenever the opportunity arose. He’d discovered that a simple kiss could make Albus forget about a lot of admonitions and yet he had rather spent an evening discussing the morales and necessities of the Imperius curse.

Later that night in bed, he examined his uncharacteristic hesitancy and all he could stumble upon were Albus’s crystal blue eyes that shone with so much warmth and affection that it sent an odd sensation right to his stomach.

He had never considered… any of his feelings, really. He got angry sometimes, furious, so much that hot rage was the only thing to fill his body and he had to act on his impulses then. He felt dread when he could feel a vision nearing and often even afterwards. He felt excitement and triumph, when he accomplished academic goals or succeeded in overcoming a particularly difficult problem. Rarely, he could even feel his pride, most prominently, when it had taken a blow.

But apart from that?

He knew that Albus had fallen in love with him, but he had never stopped to consider what it felt like to be loved by the only human he admired.

He thought of Albus’s warmth again. Of the twinkling of his eyes, of the tenderness with which his fingertips had traced the lines on his hand only yesterday. He thought of the pleasure of being so thoroughly understood that he sometimes felt like his mind was directly connected to Albus’s. He thought of the strange new desire that had overcome him to feel Albus’s lips on his the other day.

He had never felt like that for anyone.

It was an early evening, when he realized that, despite his certainty that love, which had been oustandingly absent from his life until then, was not for him - perhaps, Albus would show him yet another kind of magic.

They knew each other three weeks now, of which they had spent every possible second in each other’s company and had filled their absence with a steady flow of letters. He felt like he knew Albus inside out and the only topic he had ever expressed reluctance for was divination.

Yet, when Gellert collapsed in the middle of his room, in the middle of an animated discussion with a vision, that was so forceful he had no chance to control it in any way, Albus caught him.

He didn’t ask stupid questions. He didn’t try to stop him from shaking with dread after icy fear had been the dominant theme of his vision. Albus didn’t doubt him, not even for a second.

He held him until the shaking stopped and listened to what he’d seen with a very serious, very thoughtful expression.

“What do you think?” He asked, perhaps a little harshly and Albus blinked. He knew he’d dragged him out of a very complex thought process, but Gellert knew that Fate and Sight did not work systemically as he’d liked it and he didn’t need Albus trying to figure out what could not be figured out yet.

“I think that I want to be there, whenever this happens to you again. I hope I can be there,” Albus said, squeezing his hand, almost as if he was making a request.

Something shifted then. It wasn’t magic, at least he thought it wasn’t, but he noticed clearly that strings inside him vibrated and wove together that he hadn’t known before. Somehow his chest was filled with emotions that wanted to spill out of him and the only one that he could recognize was relief. He hadn’t even known he’d feared Albus’s rejection of this part of him he knew he would understand the least. But now that Albus was looking at him only with love and worry and a little bit of wonder, the overwhelming desire to kiss him, overcame him again.

Kiss him, drown in him, become one with him. He’d never felt the urge to be so close to someone before. He’d never felt his heart beating like that before. He’d never felt so complete before.

And he knew that he wanted to be with Albus for the rest of his life. He simply, purely wanted it for the sake of his beating heart.

47 notes - Posted February 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Okay, since I wrote that long rant about how I imagine Albus being neurodivergent (more specially autistic and suffering from anxiety) and how it’s always prevalent in my mind, whenever I write him, I’m also sharing it on here:

‪I think it’s especially apparent in his relationship with his siblings (apart from the whole world calling him “eccentric” multiple times), but I always imagine that Aberforth (who I imagine to be incredibly empathetic) is very good with ‬Ariana bc they’re just well neurotypical kids (until Ariana’s incident) and Albus is - well - not. Always caught up in books, which to me, read: hyperfixation, which other kids consider weird and which adults consider adorable up to a point where he seems to be almost anti social bc he is so caught up in his mind that he doesn’t play with the other kids (I magine Kendra to be very ambiguous here too, very proud of her ‘gifted child’ but also at dinner she’d say things like “don’t you have anything else to talk about but that fairy tale?”, “you should go and play with the other kids more often” and he’d say “yes mother”, but really he’d feel very much like an alien in his own home) and Aberforth is just accepting him the way he is, he’s the one, who punches other kids, if they make fun of his weird brother, he’s the one, who listens to Albus’s ramblings about the three brothers even though he doesn’t care about it

And then Ariana is attacked and everythings falls apart and Aberforth is so good with Ariana bc he is just good at accepting people the way they are and Albus is terrified bc even with healthy people he always seems to say the wrong stuff at the wrong time, how is he supposed to interact with Ariana, who seems to have a breakdown at the littlest thing?

And then he goes to school and he’s brilliant and admired and suddenly his gift and power outweighs his eccentricities and he is kind and friendly and polite enough that people like him and his friends are nice and also he’s learned that people don’t want to hear hour long deliberations about fairy tales or dragons or magic, no matter how fascinating he finds it, he has learned the technicalities of lying, of keeping secrets, of holding back, not only because Mother told him to, but also because not revealing his true self was usually the best option, bc no matter how nice people seemed, they still made him feel alien one way or another, wether that is because he talked a little too much about transfiguration, because he can’t stop his leg from bouncing bc he doesn’t even notice but other people do and they find it annoying or simply bc as much as they don’t understand him, he doesn’t get what they’re on about either with their parties and ever changing love interests and gossip, but he learns to seem interested

I also imagine him learning legilimency initially in hopes to understand the people around him more, to connect with his family more, but it ultimately ends up (mostly) with people being annoyed bc he’s looking into their heads

And Aberforth, obviously also very much burdened by the fate of the family and angry about pretty much everything bc what are they even doing? Does love his brother and he knows how he is, but he also needs his older brother and he really has zero nerves to spare and Ariana needs his care while Albus seems to be sufficiently great at school and he really doesn’t understand why it’s so difficult for Albus to be good at school but not good at home, when they all love him

And then Mother dies and Gellert arrives and Gellert is the first and only person, who doesn’t make him feel like an alien, he actually likes to hear Albus’s thoughts, even for hours on end on the same topic (the Hallows for one, Gellert can talk about just as much, so he doesn’t even feel guilty or like a burden, bc he can actually believe he is not too much for Gellert) and how incredible is that? And Gellert is understanding, Gellert knows how his mind works bc his is the same! And what he’s feeling for Gellert is amazing but also so overwhelming and he really cannot focus on his siblings’ needs, which are a whole different can of worms (here comes in anxiety bc how in the name of Merlin is he supposed to manage that? And change is hard anyway and he’d just planned this whole tour and it should have been him shining and all, how everyone has always predicted and he really doesn’t want to be responsible bc he also not good at it, but magic, that’s what he’s good at)

48 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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ifuckingloveryoshu · 24 days

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Hi I saw ur tags on my posts lol 🔥😭😭 thank you so much for liking my ryoshu and oc arts, but can I ask where did the name of yuzuki for ryoshu's daughter came from? I don't think hell screen mentioned her name?

Thank you for helping me get up this morning. Very short tldr but vauge answer: Hell Screen has been translated and adapted enough you could have read the a translation that keeps called Yoshihide's daughter, "Yoshihide's daughter"

If you read the Little Penguins Books Publishing, they did not use Yuzuki as the name from what I can see, but Yuzuki exist somewhere.

Lazily doing a half-baked investigation under read more.

I will never claim to know anything about translation and I had too little sleep to do things today. I'm also broke so I can't go cross refrence evey translation and adaptation of Hell Screen. I hope someone better than I can could look into this or help out. Ill come back to this maybe

This is absolutly not how you do research or go off of things but Penguin Publishing version reviews don't use the Yuzuki name so I'm thinking they don't use her name there. The Jay Rubin Translation doesn't use Yuzuki. I say that because I'm re-listening to this while cross refrencing a pdf I found. Im guessing their one in the same.

This archeologist/writer named matthewrettino uses Yuzuki when talking about Hell Screen

Haunted Places Ghost Stories did a reading on this and unrelated but they pronounce Monkehide how an american would so its, "MONKEY HIDE." But anyway, they use it. They just spell it liker Uzuki

Portrait of Hell or Jingokuhen make Yoshihide Korean, apparently. I wanted to put that here, it''s not really important, just an example of an adaptation changing something. You have a story for so long and things get changed.

It's part of human history and how we tell stories, we like adapting things and giving thigs new meaning just like Ryoshu. She's not named Yoshihide but we're all thinking, "Yeah, she's Yoshihide, she likes art, she has fire, shes sadistic, that's Yoshihide." But she's not an old man, Yoshihide never spoke in acronyms, Yoshihide's not a woman. Jesus Christ was never white. He was born in Jerusulm in a dessert, it would be strange if he was white. Most people living in the middle east and closer to the sun normally have darker skin because they have more melanin in their skin to protect from the sun. The image has been passed around so much that, at least in our Eurocentric culture, I can't find the word for it, Jesus is commonly depicted as white. Yuzuki could have never had the name in the original language, or the inverse, she could have had a name but time let it go through the skin of its fingers and it was lost to oblivion. We just need to rediscover where it's orgin came from.

Meme - A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another

The name Yuzuki might as well be a meme. If it wasn't in the orginal version of Hell Screen, it just exist now. That's why people are like, "Yuzuki, that's the name of Yoshihide's daughter. That sounds right!" Because idea's spread from text, imagry, music notes, whatever you have come to life like a spark of flame from a lighter and drift off from its starting point. The co2 particles relase into the air and up to the clouds, and when enough people emmit co2 at a rate thats unsustantable for our planet, big things happen. Really big things happen. Or you just scream so loud that no one hears you and much like the effects of smoking, damage your lungs.

I hope it doesn't feel like I'm pulling stuff out of my ass. I'll come back to this and when I have a solid answer, i'll tell you or reblog this. No worries.

#thoughts about ryoshu #ryoshu posting #hell screen mention #ask #never take what anyone says at face value #esspecially when they don't cite their sources #even if they sound smart #EVEN THEN you need to go into those sources yourself and read them #interpret them yourself #be good #i don't mean this as a buzz word but use your critical thinking skills #im a community college student and a ryoshu obsessed person i shouldn't be your source for knowledge #thank you for the ask! i love ask just as much as I love ryoshu

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byuntrash101 · 3 years

Text

Incubus: Coming of Age (Part 2)

Pairing: Incubus!Baekhyun x You

Genre: fantasy, smut 🖤

Tags: plot (typical me), demon boy (incubus), monstrous cock (like ya ain't ready), breeding kink, oral (f & m), overstimulation, breath play, dirrrty talk and more~

Raiting: 18+ (21+ it's even steamier than the 1st one 🙈)

Word count: 5.7k (the bock got me inspired haha)

Summary: Baekhyun left an indelible mark on you that one night. But the thing is it was a year ago! and that damn demon never came back... Maybe you should just forget about him... Well only maybe of course ;)

Part 1

General Masterlist

Hey guys this is the final part of this very steamy two shot ^^ I hope you guys will also like it. Please tell me what you think ^^

Tag list @lovebuginlove @ohh-baekhyun @bobohumyonlyboo @smolbeanmika @making-me-blush @wooya1224 @yixing-jaehyun @baekklove @lalalala-lav @deligxt @xofanfics @byunsugar @dixnysustae @to-all-the-stories-i-love @artisticcgroove

...To a Man

How am I supposed to go back to a normal life after that?

Well in fact... you didn't. It was over a year later and Baekhyun never came back. Every night you were hoping that somehow, he would come visit you again. But every night you laid in your bed disappointed, actually, even worse: frustrated.

Because after that fateful night you never touched yourself to your handsome boss Doctor Park Chanyeol again. Actually, you completely lost interest in him. Sure, he was still very handsome and gentlemanly but you just... didn't care anymore.

To be completely exact you didn't touch yourself to Chanyeol, but you still did have intimate sessions with yourself... Well, you tried at least. Because nothing, NOTHING... came close to what you felt when Baekhyun took care of you that night. Actually, you knew no human being, no simple mortal could possibly fuck you that way. It's not something a being of flesh and blood can do... It's something only an unholy creature could do, something only a demon could make you feel.

So, every time you succumbed to the urge of relieving yourself by letting your fingers play with your folds it ended in either, a complete failure where you couldn't even drive yourself to your peak or a lukewarm, disappointing and frustrating orgasm...

A whole year...

A whole year spent fantasizing about a teenage demon that only used you to pass a stupid exam then vanished from your reality without failing to completely shatter your whole world...

So yeah... it sucked...

You sighed to yourself, staring at the same old ceiling of your room. It was one of those nights where the tension was just too much, but you didn't feel like going through the hassle of actually pleasuring yourself knowing damn well it was going to be temporary and frankly dissatisfying.

You turned to your side, determined to chase off the frustration by getting some good sleep. Exhausted you drifted pretty quickly into a deep slumber.

But the sleep was anything but good... You found yourself covered in sweat, wrestling in your sheets, engrossed in a fever dream. Not much of it made sense but you felt like hands were roaming your body, like an usually warm embrace was enveloping your form, you felt like rugged flesh was lapping at your ear. You heard like jerky breaths, lowly grunts, like an unnaturally deep voice talking to you...

Missed me... Kitten?

"Baekhyun?!" you shouted as you sat up in your bed, eyes snapping open.

You looked around in a slight panic, your night gown clamped to your sweaty skin and your chest heaving up and down.

"Fuck" you cursed yourself under your breath, disappointed when you realized your mind played tricks on you again... You're just here alone in your room, soaked in frustration... and arousal.

"God damn it" your curse again as you slip your night gown over your head and kick the covers off your heated skin. You are left naked on top of your bed. Immediately the cold air sends goosebumps on your humid skin, hardening your nipples.

You let you fingers slip to the crux of the problem. You know there's only one way to finally be able to chase away the memory of Baekhyun, even if it's only for tonight.

The cold fingers on your drenched heat draw a sharp breath off your lips. You're so excited about this stupid fever dream, so excited about him that only a few rubs already have you with your toes curled up in pleasure. You fist your sheets tightly.

"Aaaah... Baekhyun" you softly moan his name. With eyes closed shut, you try to recall the way he felt inside you, the way his eyes glowed red, the way his low voice sent shivers down your spine...

Oh... Kittennn~...

It was like you could hear him... you gave no rest to your sensitive and throbbing nub...

"Baekhyun I'm gonna cum" you whisper to yourself. Pleasure slowly taking over your entire body. You slip a finger inside your drenched heat to aid yourself to your peak a little quicker. Then another one. You aim directly for your sensitive spot and you feel yourself tightly clenching around your fingers. You're so close... so soclose.

"Aren't you going to wait for me?"

This time...There's no doubt.

Your eyes snap open again as you stop what you were doing and you are met with Baekhyun staring you down at the foot of the bed, licking his lips, eyes already wavering with a tint of red.

But for a second you doubt. Is it really him? You can't help but to ask yourself. He looks so different. Sure, the spare shaped black tail still loosely dangles behind him but other than that his whole aura changed. The boyish features are completely gone. Instead, he looks broader, like more muscular. His plain black tee is tightly hugging his fit and toned body, making it easy for you to see abs peaking from underneath the constrictive fabric, abs you can't recall from the previous visit. His matching jeans let you see through their rips his smooth silky skin and generous thighs... But the most noticeable change is definitely his horns. The cute 10 cm (4in) tall skin-colored horns were replaced by huge 30cm (1ft) long ones. They were directly sprouting in a spiral from his forehead and stood proud on top of his head. Their base was black but as they went up it faded to a dark and deep blood red.

Overall, he looks so much more mature...

He isn't a boy anymore... he's a man.

"Baekhyun?" you start hesitantly as the demon already slips beside you in bed. "Is that really you?" you can't help but to ask.

"Yes... Kitten... It's me" he whispers in the low voice you missed so much. Bringing his lips close to your ear and you feel his rough tongue lap at your sweet spot, the familiar sensation draws a shaky breath out of you. For a minute you don't say anything you're just there, under his spell as he plays with you. In the midst of all this you didn't even notice you were stark naked, or maybe you just didn't care. You don't want to protest quite frankly, you let him do, you let him gently nibble at your bare collarbones and plant gentle kisses on your neck. You let him because... that's what you've been waiting for... For a whole fuckingyear.

But then you shake your head, snapping out of it... You leave his side taking the sheets to wrap around your naked body and get up, knowing that his soft kisses keep you from thinking rationally.

"Baekhyun..." you turned your eyes back to him "you changed so much". He chuckled and the red glow faded to slowly disappear as he gets up.

"Yes... I know, a lot can change in 12 years..." he casually says while stepping closer to you.

Wait... What?!?!

"What 12 years? No, it was just last year" you correct him, and he takes your hands in his slender black stained fingers.

"Maybe to you... but not to me" You suddenly recall the demonic blood moon years... Maybe that's what he meant... "I'll be turning 30 this May."

Your jaw drops... how was that even possible?! But then again, here you are questioning the passing of time for an.... Incubus... so what's crazier really?

"You remember what I told you about breeding?" Baekhyun's voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Yes... that it is an incubus sole purpose, right?" you say absent mindedly, still dazed at the situation. But you're brought back to the present moment when Baekhyun squeezes your hands tightly and dives in your gaze with his piercing dark brown orbs.

"Yes, I came back for that..." he leans in and you instinctively lean your head back giving him unconditional access to your neck. Baekhyun's voice goes down an octave again, lips only millimeters away from your ear. "I came back for you..." he whispers before he licks around your sweet spot, making your heart loudly thump in your chest and your toes curls on the cold wooden floor of your bedroom. You bite your lip trying to restrain your voice.

"I'm going to breed you" his voice is hypnotizing, "You will bare my children and bring them into the world" You can't even wrap your mind around what he's saying, "I chose you, y/n. I only want you" His voice his putting a spell on you. "I can fuck any women I want but..." his hand is now wrapped around your nape, and the other one gently pulls on the sheets that you let fall to the ground without resistance.

"Baekhyun what do you mean?" you ask in a jerky whisper, only focusing on his hot breath on your ear. He ignores your question.

"I need your approval to breed you, y/n..." His blunt nails grazed against the naked skin of your lower back, you start to softly moan, you're completely wrapped around his fingers. "So, say yes, y/n... Say yes Kitten" he says before his large palms grope your butt cheeks closing in the last centimeters that were left between his clothed body and your naked one, sending radiating heat from your core to your entire body.

What are you supposed to reply? Are you supposed to say no? How could you do such a thing after waiting for him for a whole year, everyday growing a little more desperate, a little more frustrated... How could you possibly say no, when his hands were roam your body like they have always known you. When he whispers with that voice in your ear. When minutes ago, you would have given anything to have another night with him...

You... just...

Can't.

"Okay..." you whispered ever so quietly, barely audible even for your own ears.

You feel Baekhyun's cheek lift against yours as he smiles. When he pulls back, you can see his pointy teeth glistening under the full moon, like they did a year ago, he's wearing the same evil smirk that you know so well, or maybe this time he's even more devious...

Fuck...

Right there something snaps, something changes. When Baekhyun looks back the red glow in his eyes is more intense than ever, his expression is wicked. Lust dancing in his dark orbs as he licks his lips with appetite.

You don't even notice the red glow around your naked form before you feel your feet being lifted from the ground. Baekhyun smirks at the confusion plastered on your face. His magic makes you levitate and harshly throws you on the bed, almost smashing your heard on the headboard. You should be stunned but the scene taking place right before your eyes keeps you conscious and focused.

The red glow now circles Baekhyun and in a fraction of second his clothes are gone. Not dropped to the floor, just gone. They completely vanished. And he stands right before you in all his glory. You can't help but to let your eyes trail his body.

His sharp jawline, long narrow neck, his collarbones. The muscles of his pecs and arms moving and mesmerizing you. The dangling black tail. The toned abs already lightly sparkling with sweat.

Then your eyes finally go below the waist band.

You do remember the enormous… thingBaekhyun fucked you with last time. How could you forget? You could never. That's why you know for a fact that this thing right there in front of you, rock hard, lightly twitching and oozing precum at the slit, is actually bigger.

Your jaw drops to the floor. The veiny and pulsing monstrous cock is as lengthy as your thigh and as thick as a soda can. When you look closely it seems like the sides are beaded. Your heart jumps in your chest. Because you know that huge ass cock is made for pleasure. Tingles start to bubble in the pit of your stomach, and you unconsciously press your thighs together.

Baekhyun can't help but to smirk when he notices fear and anticipation swim in your confused eyes.

He steps closer to you.

"Oh Kitten" he starts as he crawls in bed to you. The wicked smirk still dancing on his lips, red glowing eyes fixed on you. "We're going to have so much fun."

Then with the familiar flick of his wrist your legs fly open at his will. You gasp in surprise. And Baekhyun's smirk goes wider when he notices how your folds glisten with juices.

"Kitten look at you..." He says gesturing his chin towards your most private part. "You're always so wet for me" his low voice send shivers down your spine as embarrassment rush to your cheeks. But the spell maintains your legs nice and spread out for him.

Baekhyun leans in closer to your drenched heat teeth and tongue out.

You gasp loudly arching your back when you feel his rugged tongue aiming directly for your clit. Still very sensitive from almost cumming a few minutes ago.

"Mmmmh... Kitten you taste even better than last time" he purrs, lips pressed to your core, the vibrations sending electricity in your body.

Baekhyun takes his sweet time gently lapping at and around your nub to tease you, while cascades of juices flow out of your impatient center. You can't endure the teasing anymore, not after all this time, not after a whole year. You unconsciously buck your hips up, grinding your pussy on his tongue while a tiny pleading whimper escapes your lips.

Baekhyun stops in his track. You're taken aback when glowing red eyes look back up at you and he shakes his head fainting disappointment. But the smirk is quick to comeback.

"Baby" his warm breath fans your delicate parts. "Don't be so fucking greedy" he says before sinking his pointy white teeth in the sensitive little bud. The sting pulls a scream out of you while you grip the sheets. Immediately after Baekhyun's tongue plunges inside your hungry little hole, reaching the deepest part right away. At an alluring speed, his long tongue comes in and out of you, each time poking your sweet spot. Your loud moans echo through the empty night, the familiar knot, quick to tighten again after this much teasing.

"Baekhyun don't stop" you plead, feeling your release coming. Baekhyun's red orbs sill fixed in yours while his tail lazily dangles behind him.

The incessant stimulation of your g-spot got you clenching around his long and rugged tongue while you finally cum, letting go of the knot. You scream in absolute bliss.

That's it... this feeling... The sensation you've been craving.

"Fuckkkk" You cry out.

Baekhyun parts himself from your throbbing center for a moment, allowing you to ride out your high at your own pace. Your chest is heaving up and down, sweat is pearling between your breasts.

"Baby, don't think it's over just yet" he says smirking again. "I have so much more in store for you..."

Right then, you still haven't fully recovered and Baekhyun dives down to your soaked folds again, but this time his hot and wet tongue only focusses on you swollen nub. You scream out in surprise and pleasure. Immediately your back arches again.

His tongue somehow feels like vibrations, the feeling is intense and suffocating, and you know you won't be slow be thrown into another strong orgasm again. Your hand instinctively flies to Baekhyun's hair, resting in between his two horns, fingers harshly pulling at his luscious raven black locks.

"Is Kitten cumming again?" he says with a mouthful.

You can't even process an answer as the crushing orgasm washes over you again, excessive amounts of your arousal coating your tights and linking your center to the sheets. You moan out with no restrain, making no effort whatsoever to keep your voice down.

When he's done Baekhyun sits back up on the bed. You don't even notice how he strokes his huge monstrous pole in his fist.

"Kitten, I hope you're not tired yet..." you jumped when you felt is unnaturally hot tip glide against your folds. "Because it’s my turn now"

He shimmied his way to your parted thighs. Like last time he rested his cock on your stomach to measure it up to you. Now there's no doubt the thing is much much bigger than last time. A year ago, it reached to your midriff, now the red tip is comfortably placed between your boobs. In a sort of trance, you wrap your hands around it, the both of them can barely circle the girth of his dick. It's huge... Abnormally long and terrifyingly thick... but you can't wait to feel the thing inside you.

Baekhyun smirks when he notices you eyeing his member with burning desire. He pulls his hips back and aligns himself at your entrance. His tip teases you as you bite your lip, gathering your wetness for a smooth crossing.

"Look at me Kitten" your eyes shoot back to Baekhyun's glowing orbs. "Look at me while I make you take my cock" You let a tiny whimper out when you feel him pushing himself inside you. The tip gently and slowly parting you. Baekhyun grunts in your ear.

"Fuck Kitten, you're so tight for me baby" he breaths out in his low voice.

With every centimeter it gets better and better, you feel no pain at all only divine pleasure. You feel each one of the beads along his shaft, each one more pleasing than the last. Last time just that one slow stroke made you cum. And you know, history won't fail to repeat itself.

"I'm gonna cum" you whisper in a strangled breath, your eyes still locked with Baekhyun's. His smirk goes wider at your frowned brows and trembling lip. But he keeps on steadily pushing his cock inside you, spreading you further and further.

"I know" he whispers before violently pushing the last few centimeters in. The unexpected and overwhelming pleasure washes over you as you sink your head back in the pillows, a long string of moan falling of your lips while your cunt twitches uncontrollably around Baekhyun, a satisfied grin playing on his lips.

"Kitten" he says while pulling back slowly as you are still high from your climax. "I don't think you're ready for me" You difficulty open one eye to look at him and nod to contradict him. Baekhyun chuckles. "You think?" he asks popping his dick out of you while your walls desperately clench around nothing.

"Yes" you whisper, squirming, craving for him to fill you up again. "Yes, I missed you so much" the words roll of your tongue before you even realize it. Baekhyun lifts an eyebrow.

"Really Kitten? You missed me?" you nod again. "Well... you only waited for a year" you gasp as his hot tip circles your aching little nub before going back to your entrance. "I waited for 12 years" he says in an unnaturally low grunt.

He slams his hips into yours in one powerful and shattering thrust which sends you right back to screaming again. His movements are fast and precise each time he sends his big cock smashing against your g-spot. The pleasurable feeling is unbearable.

"Baekhyun... Aaaahh..." you moan his name, as you get dangerously close to the edge again.

"Yes, moan for me Kitten" he says through greeted teeth. "Aren't I a lot better than last time?" he pants out.

You can't believe it but it's true. You didn't think it was possible but yes. He got incredibly better at fucking you to the point that you're ready to pledge your pussy to him for eternity. For him only. You'd do anything to be fucked like this every day until your body eventually gives out from exhaustion.

"Yesss.... Aaaaah... fuck" You shout closing your eyes under the pleasure. Your loud and unrestrained moans make Baekhyun smirk.

"You're mine" he growls continuing to fuck you deep and hard. "Fucking look at me I told you" He plants his nails at the side of your face, making you wince and also open your eyes. The red glow is brighter than ever. "Say that you're mine" he commands.

"I'm yours" you whine locking eyes with him as the clenching of your cunt warns Baekhyun of how close you are.

"Kitten, are you gonna cum again?" he chuckles eyes locked into yours, furiously pumping his abnormally large cock inside your now shapeless hole.

"I'm gonna make you mine Kitten. I'm gonna pump you full of cum. Do you want that Kitten?"

"Yes please" You beg in a short breath, your release getting dangerously close.

"Good girl" He grunts getting close to your ear, his rugged tongued licking the shell of it. "Now cum. Cum around my big cock while I fill you up to the brink with hot cum."

The low whispers are enough to rocket you over the edge. You scream in absolute bliss, twitching around his huge cock as you feel the hot sticky liquid rushing into you and overflowing out. Just like last time the quantity is insane, testifying of Baekhyun’s demonic nature.

When Baekhyun finally slips out of you, you feel your heat meekly clench around nothing, already missing Baekhyun's monstrous cock.

You are left completely dazed, lying on the bed, eyes still rolled back in your head, focusing on the fading sensation of your peak.

You don't even notice when Baekhyun stands by the bed and you also don't notice how, contrary to last time, cumming has not calm him down. The "thing" is still alive and lively. In other words... he's far from done with you.

"Kitten I'm gonna fuck your face now"

You don't have time to process the meaning of those words that you are pulled by your arm. Your body is lying across the bed while your head is resting upside down on the edge of the mattress.

"Open wide Kitten" Baekhyun's hot and wet tip brushes against your lips. Almost out of instinct you open your mouth.

Baekhyun presses himself inside your narrow mouth. The stretch is excruciating, the thing is too big. Way too big for your tiny mouth and you barely manage to take the head of his dick inside your crowded mouth. Baekhyun grunts loudly, indulging in the feeling of stretching your cute little mouth to his convenience.

"Fuckkkk... y/n"

When he reaches the back of your throat he starts to slowly pull out, taking his cock completely out. You cease the opportunity to take a deep breath. Good call! Because the next second, Baekhyun goes back inside you but with much less care. He places both of his hands on your cheeks gripping your face tightly to facilitate the penetration.

He has no mercy for your poor sore throat, his powerful thrust silencing you except for the wet and sloppy sounds that your mouth makes.

"How does your cum and mine taste Kitten?" he grunts again.

His voice sends shivers across your skin, your eyes roll back as your pained pried open jaw gradually goes numb. You want to scream yes but you can't. You want more, more of this intoxicating taste taking over your mouth and clouding your mind.

"Fuckkkk... Kitten... You're gonna make me cum" He whispers, his voice conveys the feeling of his high getting closer. "I'm gonna cum in your mouth baby. You want that Kitten?" You only produce a gargled moan but Baekhyun knows how eager you are to taste more of him.

He fucks your face a little more before whispering

"Such a good girl for me"

Only instants after you feel the stream shoot to the back of your throat, instantly filling your mouth. So many squirts crash on the inside of your cheeks and on your tongue, some even go through your nose. The bitter taste invades you and your entire body, making your head dizzy.

When Baekhyun pulls out you hurriedly swallow a big mouthful of thick and hot cum before drawing a sharp -and much needed- breath.

Baekhyun gently strokes your cheeks.

"You're such a good girl for me Kitten" he says before laying back on the bed. His back is settled against the headboard. And your eyes go wide with stupor when you notice that...Still... The monster has not... calmed down.

You feel exhausted and drained out by all the orgasms you failed to count. You can't even move a muscle... even if you tried.

But you don't have to because once again your body is enveloped by a red glowing light. With that you are lifted in the air. Baekhyun's magic spread your legs into an impressive split, suspended above him while he patiently waits for you with his hands behind his head.

Beads of sweat formed on his chest and rolled down his toned abs. Sweat also sticking his bangs to his forehead and his horns. He's absolutely gorgeous, he has the kind of looks that nobody would ever be able to turn down... and especially not you.

But he looks everything but tired.

Slowly his magic lowers you down. You gasp when his hot tip brushes against your drenched folds.

"I just need more of you Kitten. Can you handle me?"

You want to respond but already the steady descent as you stretched out around his girthy cock. Making you whimper as a response. Slowly but surely Baekhyun makes you go down, cunt perfectly angled with his huge dick. Each centimeter, each bead going inside you, feeling like agonizing pleasure.

When you are halfway through the red light around your body goes off and he drops you to take the rest of him in one go. And it’s too much for you. The way his cock smashes into your sensitive sweet spot while Baekhyun has his glowing red orbs fixed on the place your bodies meet sends you into the abyss again. This time the pleasure is so intense that not only your needy cunt absolutely crushes Baekhyun's cock with uncontrollable spams but also gushes of your juices come out of you in powerful streams, drenching Baekhyun's muscular torso. Baekhyun smirks as he clicks his tongue and shake his head.

"Kitten... You came again with the very first stroke" he says fainting disappointment, taking pleasure in seeing you struggling, shaking uncontrollably, eyes rolled back, jaw hanging open and toes curled up.

Then you feel yourself getting lifted again the red glow comes back around your figure. You whimper as you feel Baekhyun slide out of you. But right before the tip pops out, he smashes you back onto him. You arch your back as a delighted long string of moans escape your lips.

"Damn Kitten you're so tight" Baekhyun says through greeted teeth.

You can't even reply anything as he's already lifting you up with his magic. Each time he increases the pace until he has you jumping up and down his girthy length. The familiar knot tightens again.

"How good does my cock feel baby?" Baekhyun asks his red eyes fixed on you as he makes your boobs bounce.

"It's the best.... Baekhyun it's the best thing ever. I wanna be fucked like this every day" you answer in a delighted scream. It's visibly what Baekhyun wanted to hear as the evil twinkle in his eye intensifies.

"Yeah Kitten? You want that?" he grunts in the low voice you love so much, sending swarms of butterflies fly in your stomach. He goes faster again. The wet sounds of skin clashing bounce off the walls punctually interrupted by Baekhyun's grunts and your moans.

"I'm gonna c-" You want to announce but Baekhyun interrupts you.

"Not yet Kitten, this time you'll cum with me and when I tell you to" He makes you hover over his dick. Still, just above him. You squirm only wanting to be filled again.

"Say what you want Kitten"

"I want your cock Baekhyun" he raises in eyebrow. "Please" your pleads make Baekhyun smirk again.

"Yeah baby? Is that what you want?" he says as he slips the tip inside, the beaded shaft make you scream in bliss as Baekhyun slowly lowers you on his cock, legs spread wide, offering him the best view on your swollen and twitching cunt.

"Yes!!!" you scream while tears well up in the corner of your eyes.

But then Baekhyun's spade shaped tail swiftly wraps around your neck, the slick scales gliding on your skin send goosebumps in the nape of your neck. When the tail has made a full circle around your neck, Baekhyun suddenly tightens the grip.

"Then fucking take it" he smashes you onto his huge cock.

You open your mouth to scream but not a sound comes out. You are completely silenced. Only the wet and lewd sounds of your pussy can be heard as Baekhyun's tip touches the deepest part of you, forming a visible bulge inside your stomach. Tears of pure joy roll down your heated cheeks.

Baekhyun then goes back to his insane rhythm. Every time angling you just right to smash your sensitive spot. Gradually your mind goes blank as he fucks you furiously, your jaw hangs open and your eyes rolls back into their orbit.

"Look at me" Baekhyun whispers in his demonic low voice. Your eyes snap to him. "I'm gonna cum inside you" he continuous to whisper. You nod vigorously, cause you know it means he'll finally let you cum too. "With this one I'll make you mine. I'll impregnate you. I'll make your belly swell with my children" You nod again, streams of tears wetting your cheeks. The restriction of blood to your brain makes you see stars as the pleasure rises again to an unbearable level.

"Now cum. Cum for me Kitten" Baekhyun grunts.

You feel his cum flow into you, this last thing sends you over the edge into the most intense orgasm you ever felt, that's including the ones Baekhyun gave you in the past. This one is different. This one is too much. His big fat cock smashing into you, his drenched chest glistening, the dirty talk, the pet name, the commanding tone, the demonic voice, the tail around your neck, the thick and hot cum filling you up.

Your spread-out legs shake uncontrollably as Baekhyun leads you to completion. Just as you are on the verge of losing consciousness due to the air restriction but also the heavenly stimulation of your orgasm, Baekhyun loosens his tail around your narrow neck. A strangled scream escapes free of your sore throat as you are finally able to vocally express the immense pleasure you feel.

"Yes, that's it baby" Baekhyun purrs as he keeps you going up and down his length.

You cry out a long moan as your head is thrown back and your tongue hangs lose out of your mouth. Baekhyun slowly decreases the pace until it comes to a stop. He lifts you out one last time, as soon as his big member pops out of you, gallons of his cum flow out of you. Baekhyun lays you down gently next to him. Before linking his lips with yours and shoving his long and rugged tongue inside your mouth and you don't even notice the red glow marking you in the lower stomach region.

You lay there for you don't know how long, trying to gather your thoughts. You are completely drained, fucked beyond repair...

After a while Baekhyun stands back up.

"In three weeks, the children will be born" you difficulty open your eyes back to look at him. "I'll be back to take them... and you."

What?!?

"Wait... me? Also babies??? Plural?" so many questions shoot through your mind.

"Yes" Baekhyun says as he wipes himself with a piece of cloth he found. "I marked you as mine" It's only now that you notice the small drawing Baekhyun tattooed on you with his demonic magic. It's a language you can't comprehend.

"What is this?" you asked pointing to the tattoo.

"It means you are to be my wife". Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

"WHAT?" You yell, flabbergasted.

"Yes, you know what a succubus is right, female incubus? " you nod unable to speak one more word.

"Well, no succubus are born. Succubus are only made. They are human women chosen by incubus to become their wife and bring their heirs to the world."

You want to say something, but you only stutter nonsense.

"Over the next three weeks you will kiss your humanity goodbye. Horns will sprout out your forehead and you will grow a tail. Your magic energy will increase, and you will slowly be able to use different magic spells. In three weeks, I'll bring you to the magic realm where you will live with me. And serve me with your body..." Baekhyun marks a silence "and heart."

"But... you... I-" Baekhyun sits next to you on the bed and cups your cheeks to make your troubled eyes meet his.

"Wasn't that what you asked for?" He asked in the most honey toned voice, his darks orbs fixed into your unsure gaze. He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip "Right Kitten?"

"Yes..." you whisper, hypnotized by his intense stare.

"Over the past year, your feelings for me bloomed, didn't they?" You felt blood rushing to your cheeks as Baekhyun's eyes were unwavering.

You didn't answer anything, but you didn't have to... Baekhyun knew exactly how to read you. Maybe because he felt the same way...

He got back up and with magic popped his clothes back on. Red smoke started to appear at his feet, gradually growing around him.

"I'll be back in three weeks... Wait for me Kitten, okay?" He said with that adorable boyish smile you haven't seen in a year, he winked at you before disappearing in the red smoke.

You rubbed your belly, where life had taken its domain. This time, you wouldn't have to try to go back to a normal life.

It was impossible anyway... and frankly you didn't want to.

#baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun imagine #exo baekhyun #exo fanfic #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun ff #smut #kpop smut #kpop imagine #byun baekhyun #baekhyun one shot #kpop #baekhyun x reader

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ac3id · 3 years

Text

“watch and learn,” | 18+

pairings: incel sakusa x fem!reader x ushijima

summary: sakusa gets tired of watching you take advantage of his friend, so he takes matters into his own hands to teach you a lesson. fortunately for him, ushijima feels the same

warnings: noncon, humiliation, voyeurism, anal, hate fucking.

a/n: this was high-key inspired by @vermiliren ‘s sakusa and ushijima concepts,,, love you <3

wordcount.: 4k+

tagging: @minitaureland, @oikawoahh, @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa, @sunshine-fangs

dm to be added/ removed!

Sakusa has a problem.

Well, Sakusa has many problems, but this one in particular manages to drive him crazy.

It makes his blood boil and his cock hard, it’s an irritating itch he just can’t scratch which makes him absolutely mad.

One could say such a problem must be nerve-wracking; something which keeps you up all night wondering how you can overcome it. Maybe it’s family, maybe it’s financial. It must be a big deal, right? But luckily for Sakusa, it’s just you.

His problem is you, his teammate’s girlfriend.

It’s weird. Technically, there should be no reason for him to think of his teammate’s girlfriend as anything but just as another girl but his heart tells him another story.

Whenever he thinks of you, he either imagines punching your beautiful face until it’s stained with wine red blood or shoving his cock down all of your holes which he hears you cry in agony. He imagines filling you up with his cum, clearing you of all your filth. There’s really no in-between, but sometimes he imagines doing it both...in the same order.

But hey! Sakusa is a good guy, he would never do such a thing! He respects women and most certainly he respects you. He obviously doesn’t think you’re a whore or anything for talking to a guy who isn’t your boyfriend, Ushijima. But gosh, even you notch it up a lot.

He rarely ever sees you, only when you arrive at bars uninvited with Ushijima or when you come down to the volleyball tournaments for Ushijima or when you wait for Ushijima while he practices in the stadium or….. When you go down to the grocery store where he just happens to be….multiple times.

Maybe you’re getting food for Ushijima, but he’s sure his teammate’s not going to eat half the junk you buy. Ushijima has a body to maintain, his health is very important to him. All of that fast food is not going to work him any favors.

Don’t you cook for him? You know, like a woman should?

You see, Sakusa is a little old fashioned. He likes tradition and sincerely pesters everyone to follow it. So it’s not a big surprise when he expects the same from you or any female in general. In the past, he’s been called an incel; a man who hates women was it? But that’s definitely not him. He loves them. Especially when they are naked on his computer screen, getting pinned down by a man two sizes bigger than themselves.

Sometimes he imagines you and Ushijma in their place and way more often, he imagines him with you over there instead.

So, see? He doesn’t women. He loves them! But… some women get on his nerves.

Some women like you.

He would never admit this, but Sakusa follows you around only because he does not trust you for Ushijima. Even when Ushi’s around, you flirt with other men while he’s sitting right next to you with his arms wrapped around your shoulder. It gets worse when he is away.

He can always hear you make suggestive comments to the cute cashier in the store while he lurks away. He’s disgusted. He can’t understand why Ushijima still chooses to stay with you.

He’s dating a whore, you don’t care about him- you’re just having your fun. You’ll leave him once it gets over, you don’t like him. But you still have him entranced, so madly in love with you. Sukasa think-no, he knows it’s only because you’re good in bed. There’s no other reason for him to keep you around for so long, being a slut you probably know how to make a man feel good.

Sakusa understands that but it still bothers him. Like a good friend he is, he decides to tell Ushijima about you. It starts in the locker room after practice. Both of them stand together changing out of their sports gear, it was a tiring day, and the two men were tired. He’s surprised when Ushijima starts the conversation, midday through changing his shirt, he starts.

“So, what do you think of her?” Sakusa knows who he is talking about, you had come into the stadium that day to watch Ushijima practice, and he had spent the better half of his time glaring daggers and staring at you. Sakusa says your name cluelessly, “Yes, her.” Ushijima replies.

Sakusa clicks his tongue, “I think-” “Cut the bullshit, you’re fucking her aren’t you?”

Ushijima turns to him, his eyes dark and fatal. A frown rests on his face with his fists balled as if to throw a punch. Sakusa panics, not understanding why such an accusation could fall over his head.

“No- I- that’s not true!” he clarifies but Ushijima looks unmoved, “Then why the fuck do you keep looking at her?” the murderous glint in his eyes doesn’t disappear as he just gets angrier. A newfound fear forms within Sakusa, he had always respected Ushijima as a player and a man, he sure as hell didn’t want to start a fight with the green-haired man. He spills everything he knows, everything he’s seen.

The night when he spotted you kissing Atsumu, the relentless flirting, everything. It’s brutal, it breaks Ushijima’s heart but a necessary evil. He watches Ushijima’s spirit break when his eyes turn blank. He stares motionlessly on the floor, thinking. Sakusa feels the rage return, he’s so mad at you- how could you do this to anyone? All of you are the same, all women are the same but….but you are the worst!

Sakusa waits for a moment before speaking, “You can’t let her get away with this,” he starts. Ushijima looks up at him, listening diligently to his plan. “You should take revenge, don’t let her get away with this.” Revenge?

Ushijima’s eyes lit up at the word, many thoughts came into his mind when Sakusa said it. Revenge? Should he also kiss any of your friends behind your back? Should he be cold towards you? The idea of making you realize just how much you hurt him by lettering you experience the pain excited him. He loved you, he did but sometimes drastic measures have to be taken. “What should I do?” he asked impatiently, he wanted to find a way to fix his deteriorating relationship.

Sakusa pauses, his mind racing back to the many porn clips he has fapped to before and settling on which the big boyfriend destroys his little girlfriend’s pussy for cheating on him. “I’ll send a video.”

Later that night Ushijima receives a link from Sakusa, titled ‘boyfriend punishes girlfriend for cheating.’

“Wakatoshi?” you bask in confusion at the man standing next to your boyfriend at the front door. It was late at night and you were almost going to bed. Ushijima had texted you telling he’d be home late that night but you had managed to catch him just in time. You were not expecting his teammate to come along with him, though.

It was awkward, dressed only in some sleep shorts and Ushijima welcoming Sakusa in the house was weird. He never seemed to take his eyes off of you, you were genuinely creeped out. You let the two men talk in the living room while you headed to the kitchen to prepare them a little snack. They said they had already eaten but umm...hospitality? It was fine to both of them, they liked you better in the kitchen anyway.

“Have you tried a threesome before?” Sakusa asked, taking a seat. It was finally the day Ushijima was going to man up and teach you a lesson which you’d never forget. “No, I don’t like to share,” he replied. Sakusa nodded, “understandable.” they stood quiet for a second only for your humming to fill the room. Even though you were in the kitchen, your sweet melody still ringed till the other room. Ushijima threw Sakusa a knowing glance before he made his way to the kitchen to see you. Heading over next to you, he sized down your form.

Ushijima took a step forward, trapping you between the kitchen counter and his huge body. You bring your hands to his chest, keeping him at a distance from you and just feeling his warmth under your palms. You did this often, it wasn’t anything sexual. You just enjoyed feeling him under your fingertips.

“So, what’s his deal?” you ask, your voice low not to alert Sakusa sitting in the living room. It was late, very late. There was no reason for Ushijima to bring a friend over now, but if Sakusa needed a place to spend the night- that was a different story.

“He will go in sometime,” Ushijima answered back, his huge, warm palms caressing your cheeks. You lean into the touch as he looks down at you affectionately with pure innocent eyes until he can’t. The spell you have him under breaks and he remembers why Sakusa is here.

His thumb trails down to your lips, pushing against the soft and pillow-like features. You look at him in confusion, Surprised by his bold actions. Ushijima was a private person, seeing him act so suggestively while another man sat right in the next room shocked you...but you liked it.

You obediently open your mouth letting his digits enter your hot carven. A tingle of a dull, throbbing pull settles on your tongue as you frown. Looking up at Ushijima through your lashes, you watch him glare at you while he pinches your tongue between his two fingers.

You whine out, there was no lie that you like it rough but the unsettling expression on Ushijima's face frightened you.

“Do you remember the last time we went out for drinks with the team?” your eyes widened and your blood ran cold, you knew exactly what he was getting at. “Nod your fucking head, bitch.” his pinch grew tighter making you squeal harder and you hastily nodded. You heard footsteps ring as Sakusa appeared into the room. Turning your eyes to his immediately, asking him for assistance. You hope to see a reaction out of Sakusa, disgust at most- he’d tell you both to cut it out but Sakusa stood still with an unreadable expression. Was he not going to say anything?

Ushijima caught your attention back by pinching your tongue hard, once again. drool pooled in your mouth, slowly leaking past your lips. It was disgusting.

“That night, did you kiss Atsumu?”

He knew. This is why he was doing this, you could understand that, but why was Sakusa just watching?

Your gaze lowered to the floor and Ushijima let his fingers leave you, letting you talk. You kept your head down as you spoke. it was too heartbreaking, you knew you should have told Ushijima but for some reason you never did. you were sacred Ushijima would leave you.

“That night, Atsumu came onto me…. when you left me with him that day, he kissed me- I didn’t want him to..he just…” shaky breaths leave your lips as you recall the dreadful incident. Atsumu was drunk that night, he wasn’t thinking straight. He apologized to you sincerely the next day but the damage was done. you could still feel his uninvited touches roaming all over your body when he tried to grope you.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Ushijima turned to sakusa, the glare which was burning you now directed at him. Ushijima was furious at sakusa for accusing you but sakusa knew what he saw. he frowned at you, he remembers seeing you kissing the blonde back- you’re just lying now, trying to get out of this mess.

“She’s lying, I knew what I saw. don’t trust her,”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Who do you think you are?”

You scream at him with angry, glassy eyes immediately turning to Ushijima and begging him to not believe the dark-haired man. Sakusa watches you with calculating eyes, revising his next move. He knows he’s not going to let you go so easily, there’s only one reason he’s here tonight. And that’s to put a whore in her place, he’s not leaving until he gets a taste of you.

He starts again, “don’t listen to her, Ushijima. listen to me, I have no reason to lie to you I’m your friend.” He chooses his words carefully to manipulate Ushijima into siding with him.

Ushijima stares at you for a second before grabbing your wrist harshly, “it’ll be okay,” he whispers your name, pulling you along with him. you scream at him, trying to pull your hand out of his grasp as he thrusts your forward.

“Toshi’ stop. seriously, no. stop,” you cry and beg but he shows no mercy. He pulls you into your shared bedroom, throwing you on your shared bed. Sakusa quietly follows, locking the door behind him as he enters. “What should I do now?” Ushijima turns to sakusa who stands next to the door, his eyes run towards you and he watches you cowering on the bed. You curl yourself up, pushing your knees to your chest and burying your head in between. You sit at the edge of the bed, far away from the two men quiring in fear and dread. Sakusa had thought you’d be putting up more of a fight but seems like you knew your place. Besides there was no way you’d manage to win against the two giants, they’d crush you even before you can try.

“Do you not remember the video?” Sakusa asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening a porn site. He clicks on the video he had forwarded to Ushijima, the video starts normally; a man talking to his supposed girlfriend but he skips the clip forward to the part he wants to see.

“You seriously want me to do that to her?” Ushijima asks, frowning at the screen. The porn actress is bent over the actor’s lap as he showers her bottom with powerful slaps. Blistering her ass and making her cry.

Sakusa nods. Ushijima looks bad at your quivering form before whispering, “like a child?”

Truth to be told, Sakusa knew Ushijima was a softie and that he cared about your feelings. That was the difference between him and the ace. He loved you and he loved you a little too much, you were the first thing swimming in his mind and it may be defined by some as romantic, Sakusa thought differently.

The thought disgusted him, caring so much about a mere woman; the man has to be crazy. Don’t get it wrong, Sakusa loves women so much he’s cornering you like this but he also firmly believes that women have duties. And by what he can see between you and Ushijima, you’re not fulfilling them at all and Ushijima is too much of a pussy to make you fix your mistakes.

He’s just helping his bro out. xx

Sakusa doesn’t answer him, instead, he looks at him with a fixed glare. Ushijima clicks his tongue, he didn’t want to hit his girlfriend like a child but he didn’t want to disrespect his friend either. He thinks for a moment before turning to you, making up his mind he chooses to spank you. A small smile of satisfaction crosses on Sakusa’s face as he watched Ushijima approach you.

His knee dips down on the bed as he moves forward to get you, “Toshi’ please, I will never, never talk to any guy ever again. You don’t need to do this.” you beg. Your eyes are glassy and your face is flushed from crying. You look up at your boyfriend with pleading eyes, hoping he’d listen to you. Ushijima stops in his tracks, hesitating to get you. He thinks about, maybe he should let you-

“Ushijima.”

Sakusa’s stern voice pulls him back to reality, he clicks his tongue and grabs you by your arm pulling you with him to the opposite edge of the bed. You keep crying and begging but Ushijima doesn’t bat an eye as he pulls you over his lap. He presses his hand against your back to keep you from running away while the other paws at your sleeping shorts.

“Stop screaming,” Sakusa commands, but you never listen to him. “Is this okay?” Ushijima flashes Sakusa a perfect view of your naked ass, your panties, and discarded on the floor. Sakusa walks over, standing in front of Ushijima, he leans in to grab a handful of your ass but Ushijima pushes his hand away. “No touching,” he commands.

As if they put salt on the wound, Ushijima moves along to fondle your ass. Playing with the soft flesh, squeezing them, spreading them all to his liking. A small smile grazes his face and for the first time, he realizes how much smaller you are compared to him. It makes him feel mighty, he loves the power he holds over you right now. The thoughts about what he can do to you flow straight to his cock. You feel his ever-growing bulge poke at your stomach under his pants.

Sakusa picks up your panties from the floor and right over in front of you, he grabs your face with his hands, squishing cheeks before shoving the panties into your mouth shutting you up once and for all. Ushijima throws him a glare but decides to ignore it eventually. His hands roam over your back one last time before he brings it up into the air and slams it down onto your round ass swiftly.

You cry out in pain, your bare ass stinging and burning. You hope for your boyfriend to calm down but he doesn’t give you a break, repeatedly hitting your ass with no sign of mercy. You cry and wither around, mumbling words that get muffled behind the gag making it impossible for any of them to understand.

Sakusa patiently watches the scene in front of him, you’re crying in pain while Ushijima spanks you. It’s kind of like the scenes he always fantasized about, the only difference being it’s him who’s raining down slaps on your naked ass instead of Ushijima.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“What?”

Sakusa wants to touch you, he wants to feel you under him. He’s not going to let himself watch you both doing it all night while he stands at the side with a raging boner and besides, Ushijima wasn’t hitting you hard enough. He pauses, looking up at Sakusa and you sigh in relief.

“You’re hitting her hard enough, at this rate she’ll never fear you,” he taunts and you frown. Your ass was already painfully red and swollen, you couldn't imagine how much longer you’d last.

In a flash, Ushijima pulled you on your feet, holding you by your arm. “You do it. I’m not enjoying this,” Sakusa’s eyes light up and he holds his urge to smile, he does not want to out himself.

“Watch and learn,”

He quietly walks over and changes roles, you squirm in his grip shaking your head no. You did not want to left under Sakusa’s touch at all, you had a feeling he hated you- which he did. He pulled you over his thighs where you could feeling his raging boner hit your stomach and just like Ushijima he started slapping your ass swiftly faster and much harder than your boyfriend.

They come without any warnings one after the other. You feel yourself tapping out now and then but a swift, harsh pull to your hair did just fine in waking you back into the nightmare. After Sakusa was done with abusing your ass, he started rubbing and playing with you. He squeezed your cheeks making you wince, spreading it open staring at your pulsing hole. His fingers even slipped down lower, dangerously close to your cunt.

“Sakusa,” Ushijima’s heavy voice cut through and Sakusa immediately lifted his hands off you. He pushed you down on the bed and removed the panties he had stuffed into your mouth. You coughed, your throat hoarse and your body exhausted.

Your bottom was numb, you could not feel a thing and your body was on fire. Ushijima called out to you, caressing your cheek. “Are you okay?” Ushijima felt bad. In all honesty, he did not want to hurt you but hearing the things Sakusa had said to him about you and what you did when he was not around made him feel like a small man, a man with no pride. It bothered him so he listens to Sakusa. He seemed to know what he was doing but now he sat filled with regrets.

Sakusa slapped Ushijima’s hand away from your face, “She’s fine. We aren’t done yet.”

Sakusa pulled you closer to him and ripped your shirt off your body, squeezing your tits and rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. Ushijima dragged you back to him, at this point both the men were using you like a rag doll, literally. “I’m fucking her pussy.” he declared. You whined as he made you sit down on the bed but quickly switched positions so that you were straddling his thigh. You could see the dent in his jeans propped up, begging to be released. “What? Am I supposed to take her ass? That’s gross.” “You can use her mouth too,”

That was even grosser, Sakusa wanted to fuck your pussy. No doubt he’d love to ruin your ass and your mouth but today he wanted your pussy. He opened his mouth to speak but was immediately speechless when he saw Ushijima making out with you. He kisses you so passionately, your lips molding together, his tongue going down your throat. For a moment it felt like he wasn’t going to rape you here and now. Hell, maybe you are even enjoying this.

He scoffs, unbuckling his belt he walks behind you, settling for your ass. He feels like a third wheel, watching Ushijima kiss you so lovingly; licking your neck and biting down your tits making you moan.

He lifts you, spreading your cheeks, presenting your gaping hole to Sakusa. “You can go first,” he offers. Your start squirming around once again trying to free yourself from him. “Please, Wakatoshi no it will hurt. Please don’t-” “Shut up, bitch” Sakusa comes behind you, his hands closing around your petit neck. He squeezes around the soft flesh, effectively shutting you up. Out of desperation, you look up at Ushijima with watery eyes only to see him glaring at Sakusa. He slaps away Sakusa’s hand away from your neck, “Careful, she’s not yours’ bro.” his voice is filled with sarcasm. Sakusa scoffs moving back, “is she yours though? Sucking up to every guy ever who gives her an ounce of attention? Hate break it to you but your girl’s a whore, dude.” Sakusa returns. Sitting in the room with a hard-on, they glare at each other. Co-operating with Ushijima was harder than Sakusa thought and Ushijima much more possessive than he seemed.

The longer he stared with Sakusa with murderous intentions, the more fragile his grip on you became. Once you spotted it was weak enough, you broke out of it made for a run.

‘Fuck!” Ushijima screamed and chased after you with Sakusa following. You don’t get far, they catch you in the corridor. Ushijima pushes you against the wall, his hand coming up to grab your jaw making you look at him. ‘One fucking thing [y/n]. I told you it’ll be over fucking soon, didn’t I?” he slaps your face once. “It’s all your fault anyway. If it weren’t for you whoring out there like a fucking slut you wouldn’t be in this situation.” he slaps you twice, ouch. You plead guilty, promising him you’d never do it again but after repeated denials, you change your request. You choke back sobs as you try to calm your uneven breathing, “You can do anything you want to me but...just not him, please.” you turn to Sakusa shaking like a leaf. You didn’t want that man to be near you, nevertheless, touch you.

Ushijima thinks for a moment, turning to Sakusa. He thinks long and hard before answering, “It will be okay.” he says before pushing you against Sakusa. He didn’t want to give you up but you know what they say...Bros before Hos. Sakusa catches you roughly and pins you against his chest. He wraps his arm around your waist, letting the other pulls his pants down and pull his throbbing cock out of his briefs. It stands tall, not as thick as Ushijima but he’s big. With the red tip leaking with pre, he gives it a pump.

“Hold her legs,” he commands. Ushijima walks up to the two of you with his huge cock out and leaking, he wastes no time in grabbing one of your legs and pushing it up.

He lines his tip with your dry hole, “that’s enough foreplay, now,” he slowly truths inside, breaching past your cute cunt, splitting you into two. A burning pain flashes through you, slowly getting replaced by pleasure. Your tight cunt sucks up around his cock, salivating as he hits deeper and deeper. Sakusa gets tired of watching as he pushes his tips past your rim making you scream out. The intrusion is weird and unfamiliar, the deeper he goes the more evident it becomes. Sakusa decides to show you some mercy when he flicks down your little clit, pulsing with need. All of a sudden you start withering with pleasure, completely forgetting about the compromising position you are in.

“Fuck.” Ushijima mutters, your moans a melody to his ears. “Fuckin whore likes this,” Sakusa wanted you to shut up, your moans were turning him off. Sakusa felt he was close. Your walls hugging him snuggly, trying to milk him for all he’s worth but he doesn’t want to give up yet. There's an unspoken competition between the two men; whoever can last longer and his pride won’t let him loose. He holds himself together for a little longer, hoping for Ushijima to come before him.

“Don’t cum inside,” the green-haired man commands. He is close, his thrusts hit sloppy and uneven. He bits down on your neck as he shoots his thick, white load into your womb cumming with a loud grunt. Sakusa follows soon after, his length twitching he pulls it out of you. He jerks his cock over and cums all over your back.

He lets go of you, and you fall onto Ushijima, your boyfriend's strong arms wrapping around you to steady you up. “You should leave,” he suggests. He pulls his dick back into his pants and walks to the door, throwing a glance behind his shoulder; he sees Ushi stripping out his shirt and dressing you with him. He scoffs and turns around, feeling disgusted he can’t wait to go back to his own home and take a fucking shower. Even though he finally gets what he had wanted, he can’t help but feel unsatisfied. It would have been much better if it was just him and you minus the possessive freak, maybe….he can come again when Ushijima is not around….What’s the worst which could possibly happen?

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juletheghoul · 3 years

Text

Oblivius Chapter 3

So... more pain... yay!

I've become obsessed with these two in a very short time and I decided I'll just put out Chapters as I write them. Enjoy! <3

(Also - conveniently, Tom doesn't exist lmao)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, (Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 2

-------

Age: 17

“Hey! Don’t slam the door Spills - you know she’s… delicate.” He patted the dashboard affectionately as you put your seat-belt on - carefully so as not to drop the breakfast you’d brought for both of you. You stared at him incredulously.

“You mean this rustbucket?” You laughed as he carefully pulled out of your driveway.

“Don’t say that about her, she’s perfectly fine.” He turned on the radio and you heard the same song it always played.

“Really Francis? Queen again?” You sighed as you put the buttery half of your bagel into his mouth.

“Okay first of all, this song is amazing and it applies and secondly - the tape is stuck so it’s this or silence.” You could see the smile as he ate happily.

He never said it, but he treasured this time with you. You always gave him half of whatever you made and it always tasted better than anything he ever made himself. It was one of his favourite rituals, the little moment before the school day started. When it was just the two of you, lost in your own world; speaking your own language.

**Present day**

Who the hell is that?

The woman in the reflection wasn’t you, well - she certainly didn’t look like you anyway. She was much to wan - something was weighing her down, heavy on her shoulders. Her eyes were puffy and it looked like she’d been crying.

She was looking back at you, confused - she didn’t recognize herself either.

God I need to shower.

It helped but only a bit. At least your hair was clean, but that wasn’t going to be enough for tonight. There was no fucking way you were going to let them pick you up in this state. You had to look perfect - you had to look your best. Some delusional little corner of your mind reminded you that Frankie had feelings for you before, maybe you could tap into that somehow.

That’s a little fucked up, he’s engaged.

You ignored that thought as you picked out a flattering outfit and tried to work a miracle with your makeup. The reflection smiled back at you now, and you could almost recognize her - the sadness was still there but you were ignoring that too. There would be no room for sadness tonight.

“Hi! So glad you came out with us, you look lovely!” Claudia greeted you when you got into Frankie’s truck. Same truck you’d been getting into since you were a teenager, same truck he refused to get rid of because ‘shouldn’t fix what isn’t broken’. You saw the look Frankie gave you in the rear-view, saw his eyes quickly flash towards the exposed skin of your legs and a cruel little part of you soared at that. Got you it seemed to say.

“You look great Spills, Benny is going to eat you up.” He said it playfully but you heard the slight tinge of bitterness. Claudia didn’t notice.

“Oh yes, Benny is going to be all over you. They’re all going to love you, Will and Santi. I know they will.” Even her voice was sweet and you couldn’t help that it pissed you off how nice she was.

“Who’s Benny? Or Will or Santi for that matter?” The names meant nothing to you.

“Army buddies.” You knew him well enough to sense there was something that was bothering him, could it be the thought of his army buddies liking you? Your ego definitely liked that idea.

“They can be a little rough around the edges, but they’re sweet. Benny and his brother Will, even Santi. You’ll love them.” She was smiling at you, beaming.

We’ll see about that.

---

It made you a little sad when Frankie held the door open for the two of you as you walked into the bar. Nothing had changed, you knew that if you went to the last booth your combined initials would still be carved into the table. You knew that the second last stool was wobbly and if you sat there when you were too drunk, you’d fall and eat shit.

This is going to be fun.

Blessedly- thankfully- you did not sit at the last booth. When you walked in there had been a loud chorus of what you thought was the word ‘catfish’ which confused you profoundly, that is until you noticed Frankie laughing. They call you catfish? The people calling had slid a couple of tables together in the middle of the large room and had started the party without Frankie it seemed.

His smile was genuine when they greeted him and despite how you felt, despite how hurt you were that it wasn’t you on his arm - merging his home life with this army family he’d made - his happiness was lovely to behold. That smile, in this place was home. The bare bulbs hanging in this dingy bar, bathing him in golden light - seeing him like this made you ache, made you want to run your fingers through his hair. Made you want to kiss the little bald patch in his facial hair.

They all greeted Claudia and the spell was broken; it was almost overwhelming how much it hurt that it wasn’t you.

It should be me, it should have always been me.

“Okay okay - settle down, meet my best friend in the whole world. This is Spills.” He placed his hand at the small of your back - just barely - to bring you forward and they all smiled warmly at you.

“It’s nice to meet you - we’ve heard a lot about you.” A ruggedly handsome man with greying hair walked over to you and shook your hand warmly. He gave you a wink that suggested he knew more about you than you would have liked. “I’m Santi - but everyone calls me Pope.”

You went around as they all introduced themselves, a beautiful blond man named Will who called you sweetheart and gave you a -very welcome- lingering hug.

“Hey, I’m Benny - “ Frankie cut him off.

“Benny - behave please.” Frankie’s face was all smiles but you recognized the tone.

“I’m okay Francis. I can take care of myself.” You smiled at him sweetly and you shook Benny’s hand.

“Yeah Francis, let the lady speak for herself. It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled and guided you to sit beside him. You chanced a glance back at Frankie and you thought you caught a look of recognition between him and Pope but you couldn’t dwell on that. Your emotional attachment to Frankie could have been warping your perception of everything.

I’m seeing what I want to see.

---

Benny was chatty, he was sweet and a couple of years younger and you could tell he was a bit wild. Will - who you learned was his brother sat with the two of you and you learned about their childhoods, what had led them to join the army. You learned that Benny liked to box, which was strangely fitting and you learned that Frankie was one hell of a pilot.

At times you could almost ignore the rocks in the pit of your stomach, when Benny laughed and threw his arm around you. It felt nice to have someone pay attention to you this way, even if you weren’t exactly on the same wavelength. A little flirting couldn’t do any harm though and so you let it happen. You smiled sweetly and left his arm in place.

“So why do you guys call him Catfish?” The nickname was strange, he’d always been Frankie or Francis - Francisco when you were angry.

“Isn’t it obvious? Looks like a catfish with those ridiculous whiskers.” Will was laughing and when you looked back at him you found his gaze already fixed on you. On the closeness between you and Benny, you could see the way his eyes narrowed slightly.

Are you jealous right now? You’ve gotta be kidding me.

You could feel your blood boiling, was it all in your head? Were you just hoping that he’d be jealous of… what? Nothing was happening. Benny was cute, sure - but you didn’t want him.

I want you, you idiot.

Suddenly it was too much. You couldn’t be there surrounded by this part of his life that didn't include you. Pope walked over to the three of you as you got up - you needed to get out.

“Just going to grab some air - be back in a few.” You smiled as best you could, Will asked if you needed company, you declined politely.

The cool night air enveloped you when you opened the door - it helped a lot. There was a group of tables with ashtrays just outside the bar and you chose one of the empty ones. There was a gorgeous breeze out, you hadn’t realized how stuffy and suffocating it was inside.

Maybe it's just your brain.

“You okay Spills?” His voice crept down your spine.

“Yep - all good. You?” You could hear him approaching you, felt him sit next to you but you couldn’t look at him.

“I’m okay.” He sat beside you quietly, bumping his shoulder to yours. “What did you think of my friends?” You ignored his tone, somehow hopeful and bitter at the same time.

“They’re really nice, Benny and Will are sweet - Santi seems a little broody.” He laughed and you looked over at him - his big smile brought out your own.

“Just wait - once he’s comfortable around you he’ll never shut up. Those guys have been with me through a lot.” You kept forgetting that there was so much about his time away that you didn’t know. Things Claudia knew.

“You want to talk about it?” You bumped his shoulder back, knowing that sometimes he just needed to be asked. He looked at you strangely then, almost like he had just recognized you.

“Spills-” The door burst open with a loud laugh and Claudia came looking for him.

“Hey babe! Come on, they're making a toast.” She was all breathless smiles, wine dark lips and the end of your moment with him. He sighed loudly, a big smile on his face for her.

“Another time, let's go inside.” he said back to you as he walked towards her, towards Claudia and away from you.

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

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animedaddymilkers · 3 years

Text

Kinkmas 2020: Day Eight

Prompt: Breeding w/ Jiraiya

Genre: Smut/18+ || Tags: Breeding, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Slight Impregnation, Sex Worker, Mutual Pining, Oral, Fingering || Characters: Jiraiya, Female Reader || read it on ao3 here

Three hours, three agonizing hours until your favorite client checked in. Three hours filled with you anxiously doing your makeup and little odds and ends to make sure your appearance was as enticing as possible. It wasn't usually like you to go all out for customers, but this particular one was special. Not to mention he was also your highest paying one. Andddd you may have caught some stupid, school-girl crush for him. Though you wouldn't dare say anything to his face, or to anyone for that matter. It wasn't worth risking your best client. Being a sex worker was hard enough as it was.

Jiraiya was a different breed of man, probably a different breed of human if you were being totally honest. He was so suave and smooth, yet put on a sleazy front, driving away most of the civilian women. You had your suspicions that he did that on purpose, but it wasn't your place to pry. He definitely attracted all the women who worked in similar professions as you, that was for sure. Even though he was known to be a cheapskate, drunk, and always tried to get more than he paid for, he wasn't like that with you. You heard once he found a favorite he was the exact opposite of his reputation and now you were living through just that.

The white-haired man appeared in the doorway of your designated hotel room, a bright smile on his face. This time the room had to be the presidential suite, it was comparable to a whole ass apartment for Kami's sake. After hearing the hotel door open you scurried out of the ridiculously large bathroom, your heels clicking along the marble floor to greet your client. His roaring laugh filled the room as he watched your delicate appearance not-so-delicately enter the room.

"Well, look at you! Shit, darling, you look amazing today. You're going to kill an old man like me," his cherry tone made you smile and you stopped in front of him.

"Oh please, you're harder to kill than that! So, what were you thinking today?" Your hands trailed up his still clothed chest, taking in the feel of the muscles you knew laid underneath.

Jiraiya's hands went to your waist, thumbs running over the lingerie you donned," Always so straight to the point, aren't you? Always loved that about ya. Anyways, thought maybe today we could just do something… soft? Just got back from a rough mission and could use some soft lovin'."

"Oh, yeah definitely! I can be whatever you need, handsome," you leaned up and kissed his cheek, using the other hand to caress the opposite cheek.

If he wanted soft, soft was what he was going to get. He knew it was dangerous to request sexual favors that included gentle actions from you. He knew your soft touches would fan the ache in his heart, but he couldn't help it. Maybe somewhere inside of him he just wanted an excuse to hold you close and "accidentally" let some sweet nothings be whispered in your ear. Your lips came together much slower than they usually do, gently pressing together as your eyes closed. His large hands rubbed your hips, fingers kneading into your soft flesh as he easily lifted you from the floor. As if from muscle memory alone, your legs wrapped around his waist as much as they could, happily clinging onto his built figure. The oversized king bed came too soon, your back meeting the plush sheets as Jiraiya's kisses began to trail down your jaw. His lips were warm and harsh against your skin but far from unwelcome. You knew what was coming but you still gasped quietly the first time he sucked the skin of your neck into his mouth.

"You drive me wild," his voice was low and rumbled against your throat, sending a shiver down your spine.

His hands wandered from your hips to your chest, playing with your boobs through the thin bra you wore. One of Jiraiya's favorite things was to leave love marks on you, all over you to be exact. Usually, you wouldn't allow it, marking up the merchandise and all. But for him, it was worth it. Not only did he pay more than enough to mark you, but you always felt almost proud to wear his hickeys on your neck and body after a session with him. It definitely helped you pretend you were truly his until they faded that is. Then you'd just have to wait until Jiraiya's name showed up on your booking schedule again. Though unbeknownst to you, your customer felt quite the same about the love marks. He knew very well he was lucky you allowed him to leave them and he'd be lying if he said he didn't go into the village the next day just to get a glimpse of you proudly displaying what he left you.

You tried not to rush things, going at whatever pace he set for the session, but it was hard not to get slightly greedy with such a mountain of man within your grasp. Thankfully, your partner picked up on your gathering impatience and began to slowly unwrap you from the lingerie you had on. The action wasn't empty of affection, quite the opposite. Each time he revealed more skin, his fingers lingered, his touch warm and gentle against you. Once you were naked it was more obvious how overdressed he was. So, you set about fixing that fact. His layers were peeled off one by one until he was left in his mesh shirt and underwear. This part, you loved to lay back and watch as he slowly stripped the rest, his shirt pulling up and revealing more of his abs and toned chest. Ugh, Kami, he was so hot for an older man. So many of your clients were tolerable at best, but Jiraiya? Quite literally the definition of 'you'd let him hit it for free'. But again, you had rent to pay.

Once you were both naked came the part where you two adored the other's body, not a usual part of your rendezvous but he wanted softness today. His rough fingers played with your nipples, shit-eating grin spreading across his face as you moaned and whined when he tugged them. Meanwhile, your hands roamed over every inch of him that you could reach, which currently only entailed his shoulders, head, and top of his chest. But that was enough for you to reach down and play with his nipples in return. The way his face reddened with blush almost made you giggle, but he twisted yours teasingly to get back at you. Jiraiya could seriously tease you for hours on end if it were any other day than today. Today, he had other plans, he needed emotional sex but he also needed it sooner rather than later.

His fingers were tracing along your slit, gathering up some of your wetness to spread it around more. He lazily rubbed at your clit as he kissed you, teeth nipping at your lips just lightly enough to make it hurt but not draw blood. It was a bit dizzying to have a man above you who could so easily kill you with minimal effort, yet each of his movements was filled with nothing but adoration. Part of you hated how tender he was with you every session and the other part that was head over heels in love begged him to continue. Your hips ground down against him, a whine falling out of your mouth before you could even help it. He exhaled a quiet laugh at your desperate reaction and did it again, only slightly harder this time. Teasing was a given when it came to Jiraiya unless he was really drunk. But hell, this time you were almost sure he was completely sober. It really must have been a rough mission if he didn't stop at the bar first. The thought made you want to stop him and give him all the extra attention in the world. The only thing stopping you was your business professional side. It'd just be too much, too risky to make a move like that. You'd be able to pamper him in due time and then it wouldn't seem out of place.

In the meantime, Jiraiya finally slid a thick finger inside of you, probing your insides like he was trying to test something out. His tongue stuck out slightly, caught between his teeth with a determined look on his face. If there wasn't a finger curling inside of your pussy you would have laughed at the expression. He pumped it in and out slowly, gently prodding for your g-spot. As he explored your insides he slipped another finger in, taking care to slowly stretch you out for him. He leaned his head down and let his tongue join in on the party, pressing it flat against your clit. Your head fell back against the bed as your fingers tangled into his expanse of lush, white hair, tugging gently to try and get more out of his mouth. He grinned against your thigh, a third, thick finger pushing into you. The stretch was now slightly uncomfortable, but you both slightly knew you had to endure it, or else the main event wasn't going to be as enjoyable. And Jiraiya always wanted you to enjoy it. Truly, he was the best client you ever had and it wasn't fair that this was just no strings attached business.

His tongue circled your clit before his teeth grazed your bundle of nerves, sending a shiver down your spine. Then he started a session routine, spelling out his name against your clit with his tongue. Again, you wish you could laugh during the cheesy action but it felt too damn good. The low rumble of his voice against you had your hips grinding down against his fingers. His fingers which still thrust in and out of you, changing positions and angles every now and then, intent on finding your g-spot. When his fingers finally made you gasp, he grinned devilishly and your grip tightened in his hair, knowing you were in for a ride now. Once they zeroed in on their target his fingers barely changed angles, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. His mouth wrapped around your clit, sucking gently as his other hand slid down to your other hole. At first, he just teased, swirling his pointer finger around the puckered hole before using some of your pussy juice to slowly push in. The pressure from the extra finger had you gasping out his name, the assault on your other private parts far from ending. Your legs defied your intent to hold out longer and began to shake, the warm spasm in your lower stomach fast approaching.

"Fuck! Oh Kami, Jiraiya! Fuck I'm cumming!" cuss words continued to fall from your lips between moans as you came on his face.

Your juices properly soaked his stubble-covered jaw, more proof he didn't even bother going home before seeing you. As your legs spasmed he kept sucking your clit, welcoming the feeling of your plush thighs wrapping tightly around his head. A good three minutes later he finally let you have some reprieve, removing his face and hands from his body. Your eyes met his gleaming ones as he brought one hand to his mouth, sucking his fingers off. The skilled tongue that made you fall apart, swirled around his fingers, intent not to waste a single drop of your sweet juice. He had little to no reservations when it came to sex, happily sliding his finger from your other hole into his mouth, sucking it off just as he did the others. Next time you just might have to ask him to use his mouth on your ass… but for now, it was your turn to get your mouth busy.

Jiraiya had other thoughts, leaning up to kiss you again and slowly grind his hips against yours. He kissed you for a while, savoring the taste of your mouth, and went to line himself up at your entrance before you stopped him. Concerned, he looked up at you and was about to ask if something was wrong before you gently pushed to flip him over. Now with a look of understanding he chuckled softly and laid back against the pillows, arms tucked behind his head. Hair sprawled around him and arms flexed he looked like a true Adonis before you, even including the brutal scar on his chest. If anything, the scar just made him more god-like. It was a testament to what he did for a living, how self-sacrificing he was. There was only one thing that could make the view better: a lower perspective.

Your hands rubbed against his skin, just taking in the feel of it. The feel of his scars, the feel of the tensing muscles beneath, the intoxicating feel of his pulse beating beneath your fingers. You grinned as you brushed your fingertips along his pelvis, savoring in the shiver he always gave you. His hips were so sensitive it was almost cute. You leaned forward and kissed a trail down his abs, leaving little love bites along the way. Time didn't mean anything right now, so you took as long as you wanted, paying extra attention to leave darker marks along his hips and purposely avoiding where he wanted your touch most. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, trying not to think too hard about the sweet ways you touched him. Oftentimes, he had to remind himself that these affections from you were bought, if he hadn't bought this time with you, you wouldn't be here. The kisses and marks you left all over his body were just for sexy times. The gentle way you admired his body was just to keep him coming back, to keep him thinking you cared for him on a personal level. Damn, his thoughts got carried away again. He couldn't help but think of what waking up next to you would be like, you smiling-

His eyes flew open and he groaned as you licked up his cock. The grin you had on your face made him groan again, damn your sinful actions. Your lips wrapped around him and he locked eyes with yours as you slowly sank your mouth down his length. The gleam in your eyes drove him wild, watching as you took him inch by inch, careful not to gag. That is, until he gave you a cocky little thrust of his hips. You gagged and choked at the unanticipated movement, taking your mouth off of him, your hand relaxing it.

"You bastard! You ruined my rhythm!"

Jiraiya chuckled before grinning, "Oh but you sound so cute gagging on my cock, darling!"

His happy go lucky tone laced his words, making you roll your eyes as you pumped him. Taking a deep breath you wrapped your mouth around him again, determined to make it all the way down him this time. You knew he'd thrust again, but now you were expecting it and you were able to relax your throat more, grinning around his cock when you didn't gag. Jiraiya only grinned, proud that you caught onto his little game and resorted to letting you have the reins again. One of his large hands reached down, gathering your hair from out of your face to help you and so he could see better. Your head finally met the coarse white curls at the base of his cock and you held yourself there for a few moments. You swallowed a couple of times just to hear the man beneath you moan before you slowly began to slide back up, swirling your tongue around his tip. Kami, his face looked so good with the blush dusting his cheeks and chest. You'd give him all his money back just to have this view all to yourself. Still, you had the power to make him fall apart even more and you had every intention to do just that.

Again, your mouth surrounded him and you went down his length quicker this time, although you didn't go down all the way. Your rhythm took a few tries to perfect but you finally found it. Hollowing out your cheeks a bit you bobbed your head on his cock, twisting slightly as you went up and down. For a bit of cock you didn't force your mouth to go down on, your hand picked up the slack, rubbing around it while your mouth worked. Jiraiya's other hand came down to join his first in your hair and when your eyes met his he groaned. You looked so good when you were desperate to please him. He was comfortable enough with you now that he didn't even think of holding back all of his noises, even if they were the high pitched whines he let out when you played with his balls. Or the gasps when you gave him a taste of his own medicine and pushed a finger into his asshole. His hips twitched at the sudden pressure and he almost comically began to fall apart beneath you.

He panted and moaned, thighs tensing when you pushed another finger into him, "Damn it, fuck, (Y/N)... Darling please…"

You moaned around his cock before popping his cock out of your mouth, pumping it with your hand, "Mmm, what is it dear?"

His face was beet red and his chest near heaving, "Don't wanna cum like this…"

"Ah, that's right, I forgot geezers like you can only go so long." you grinned at him and let his cock free.

If it had been any other client, you wouldn't dare speak to them like that, but for Jiraiya, it only fired him up more. He smirked back at you and easily leaned down, lifting your body from between his legs. Before you could comprehend you were on all fours, ass properly displayed for the man behind you. His hands spread across your rear and massaged your ass before spreading your cheeks. The tip of his cock pressed at your entrance and you whined, trying to push yourself back onto him. He laughed at your desperation but still obliged, pushing into you slowly. Kami, he filled you so well, dragging along your walls perfectly. He didn't stop until his hips met yours, pushing his pelvis into your ass, staying there for a long moment. With a grin, he ground his hips against yours before pulling out almost all the way and then slamming back in.

It made you gasp and grab at the sheets for balance, the pace was both torture and pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, no doubt going to leave bruises as he continued fucking you. After a few minutes, he finally sped up, his cock hitting against your deepest parts. He leaned over your back and pressed kisses into your shoulders before trailing up your neck. His hot breath against your skin was enough to drive you wild and mixed with his groans you felt tingles fire through your body from your ears straight to your pussy. Your whines egged him on and he once again sped up, fucking into you with vigor now. The lewd sounds of your skin slapping together was like music and only sounded better accompanied by the noises you both were making. One of his hands slid from your hip and a thick finger rubbed at your clit, the extra stimulation making you groan and bury your face deeper into the blanket beneath you. You could feel your thighs shake, threatening to give out as your pussy clenched around his cock. Your cum properly wet his cock more and a bit of his thighs too, but that wasn't going to stop him.

Jiraiya fucked you through your orgasm, slowing as you came down before he roughly flipped you over onto your back, taking in your post-orgasm face, "You look so gorgeous like this darling. I could stare at you for hours."

His voice was deep and you sighed softly at his words, legs opening wide so he could slide back inside of you. Gently, he took your legs and pushed your knees towards your chest, leaving some room so he could lean down between them and kiss you. The position let his cock slide in deeper and you moaned feeling him hit your cervix. "Kami, Jiraiya, just fuck me already, I want your cum!"

He smirked and thrust roughly, making the breath catch in your throat, "You want my cum, pretty girl? You want me to fuck my baby into you?"

The words weren't supposed to come out. Not like that. But he always was a sucker for dirty talk so he wasn't really surprised with himself. You, on the other hand, were slightly shocked. Or at least you would have been if you weren't so horny. His words made you moan at the thought and you knew you wouldn't be satisfied until you felt his cum inside of you now. He did prefer to go in raw, but every time before this he had no qualms about pulling out. Briefly, you wondered what changed and if maybe it was all talk, but regardless, you couldn't help but lose all inhibitions at the thought of feeling his cum inside of you.

"Yes! Fuck your baby into me! Fill me up, Jiraiya, I want everyone to know what you've done to me!"

He growled and pushed your legs closer to your body as he nearly laid down on top of you. The heaviness of him added an extra warmth of protection, bringing you two closer physically and a bit emotionally as well. Now, you were so close you could lean up and kiss him, his hot breath on your lips, his intoxicating smell filling your nose while his hips quickly thrust in and out of you. Cuss words and praises fell from his lips, muffled by your skin as he fucked you harder, barely holding back at all. It was appropriate that he had you positioned in the mating press, adding to the feeling of the moment. You let yourself get absorbed in the fantasy, pretending he was saying those words under different circumstances, that he really meant what he said.

"Fuck I'm so close," he growled and his arms wrapped around your back, holding you closer, "You ready for it, darling? Let me hear you. C'mon."

As if you really needed any more convincing, you let it out, legs once again starting to shake as they wrapped around him, "Please, please, give me your cum. Oh, Kami~"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being forced to be mine, huh? You want to be my little breeding slut?"

"Yes, yes yes! Make me yours!" Your high pitched whines sent him into a frenzy and he roughly began to rub your clit again.

You were already over sensitive so when you felt him bury himself to the hilt inside of you, you let yourself go. He groaned your name as you could feel his hot cum fill you up, your pussy spasming around him. Part of you couldn't believe he actually just came inside, though the majority of your lust clouded brain was absolutely satisfied that he did. You panted hard and was thankful as he helped stretch your cramping legs. He himself was breathing hard in the crook of your neck. Your arms wrapping around his neck as you played with his hair before he began to slowly pull away. His eyes locked with yours as he sat back on his feet, soft cock slipping out of you. When he did his eyes wandered down, watching as his cum slowly dripped out of your hole. But he gathered the drips onto his fingers and pushed it back into you.

"You're going to look so cute, big and round with my baby."

The words shook you from the bliss and you looked up at the white-haired man. The full possible repercussions of your actions crashed down onto you. Before you could voice any concerns, Jiraiya sighed and leaned down, putting his head in the crook of your neck again before filling the quiet of the room.

"I shouldn't have done that."

"I wanted it too."

"Did you really? Or just because I pay you to want it." his voice was gravelly and almost laced with guilt.

You had to say, you've seen Jiraiya through many post-orgasm moods, but this one full of something akin to regret was new, "No. I really wanted it. And… If it happens, then I'll happily welcome it."

He didn't lift his head, he didn't think he could even if he wanted to. Instead, he only held you tighter and finally let himself embrace his feelings for you, "I love you. I don't care about your line of work. I don't care how much I have to pay. Just…let me see you more?"

The breath you didn't know you were holding was exhaled and you looked down at him, "Jiraiya…"

"You don't have to like me back. I'd understand. I just couldn't keep it to myself any longer. (Y/N), you're the only thing keeping me returning to this village."

He looked almost scared as he confessed his feelings, his hands stroking over your skin, eyes avoiding yours, "Jiraiya, I love you too…"

Quickly his eyes snapped up to finally meet yours, his heart felt like it skipped a beat. It took him a minute to fully comprehend your words before he pressed his lips to yours again. The rest of the day was spent together, telling the other all the things you'd been holding back for who knows how long. Not to mention a few more rounds in the bed. Never in a million years would you have guessed a shared breeding kink would finally be the thing that brought you to confess your love for each other.

hope you enjoyed! remember likes & reblogs help me reach more people! :D

#naruto #naruto x reader #jiraiya #jiraiya x reader #naruto x you #jiraiya x you #kinkmas 2020 #smut #naruto smut #reader insert #x reader #x you

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softforklave · 3 years

Text

The Big Klave Fic Rec

Reginald Hargreeves does everything he can to learn about the Umbrella Academy’s powers, but Klaus is the one who finds out why they have their powers. No one expected the answer to be “we’re fallen angels” but here they all were. This is for my lovely @cemeteryklaus I hope you enjoy this! You will not run out of klave fics on my watch ;)

I have excessively been reading klave fics since s1 came out in February 2019, when there was only one page under the Klaus Hargreeves/Dave tag on ao3 (before our King shared his full name on Twitter). There are currently 2056 fics on ao3, and I can (un)fortunately say I have read almost all of them (what am I doing with my life?). Klave has been blessed with so many talented writers, so this is quite the list. Many of them have written more than one fic (some even over 50!), and since they are all amazing, it would take ages to list them all. Therefore, I have decided to recommend authors who have written two or more klave fics and linking to their the umbrella academy ao3 works page. Go read all of their works, and I can guarantee that every single fic is wonderful! And dont forget to leave kudos and comments, our writers deserve all the love and appreciation that we can give them!

I also highly encourage people reblogging with their favourite fics, if you want to show the writers some more love or if I have forgotten your favourite fic (you can also dm me if you want me to add it on)! I have tried to @ the authors, but sometimes it can be hard to find the right blogs. Please let me know if I have tagged you wrong, forgotten to tag you or dont want me to tag you, I will remove the @ at once! I will try to update this as I continue to excessively consume klave content (though this is limited to ao3 and tumblr), so please come back to this list for more recommendations. Happy Reading! <3

Authors (2 or more klave fics)

A - B

a_nybodys /// accidentallyanoctopus /// actuallymaxie ///admirabletragedy @admirabletragedy /// aelisheva /// AliNear /// Allandnothing /// allthempickles /// Ama /// Anglophile_Rin @anglophile-rin /// aubrey_writes /// aye_of_newt @aye-of-newt /// bacondoughtnut @spookybeez /// Becca_Hay /// Bendy_CA @apocalypse-gang /// bennybentacles @bennybentacles /// blazeofglory /// Bluebacchus @bluebacchus /// bluetigerlillies @frogsarebxtches /// brionylarkin @brionylarkin

C - E

CaptainAmericaoftheTardis /// CharryWotter /// covenofthearticulate @codenameseance /// CowgayKermit @cowgaykermit /// crisecardiac @thistlemoth /// Cyane /// Dancinbutterfly @dancinbutterfly /// dandelyre @dandelyre /// deargalileo/// deathishauntedbyhumans @deathishauntedbyhumans /// discohargreeves /// Doctor959 /// Dog_Bearing_Gifts @dogbearinggifts /// Drhair76 @handcoversheart-76 /// dyllpickless @dyllpickless /// electric016 @electric016 /// Eternal_Peace_Is_Overrated @flowercrownsandbooks

F - K

Faetality @faetxlity /// forestdivinity (ForestDivinity) @forestdivinity /// forthekidswhoaintgotnosoul @prime8svevo /// FrazzledSquidz G33kinthepink /// ghostbythesea @gay-poster-child /// goldieknocks @goldieknocks /// Hemitreunited @hermitreunited /// hippieklaus @hippieklaus /// hujwernoo /// iamnotalizard @lizard-overlord /// ilikeshipment @theseance1968 /// intheflowers /// Karturtle (karturtle) @karturtle /// Katplanet @katplanet /// KawaiiCommunism @kawaiic0mmunism /// KindaCool @kindasickkindacool /// klausmoon

L - P

lastyoungrene-gay-de @lastyoungrene-gay-de /// livid /// LiviJoyann /// livtontea @zontiky /// loves_buckybarnes /// Lyviel @justatiredghost /// Majure @fanthings /// Mars_and_Moon /// mieczyhale @mieczyhale /// momebie (katilara) @charmingpplincardigans /// noodlerdoodler /// MusicLover19 /// Nyctae /// obscurityofphylum /// ohmygodwhy @gaycinema /// Opal_Lakes /// @opal-lakes /// ophelibob_writes @a-human-pippin-took /// Papapaldi @wykart/// perceptuallydisorganizedwriter /// PickledBeef @pickledbeefwastaken /// polarkai /// princejoopie @princejoopie /// punk_rock_yuppie

Q - S

queenbaskerville /// QueenOfAllCorgis /// rumbleroarsslumberingcubs /// Scalliwag @sscalliwag /// seancequeen @seancequeen /// sehn_sucht @sehn----sucht /// SerpaSas @queenbeyondthewalll /// Shadowscast /// Shamefulshameless @shameful-shameless /// Sharpworksamurai/// shipNslash /// Siriuspiggyback @cowboyklaus /// Smallswritesstuff @mychemicalxmen /// smile_it_will_get_better @smileitwillgetbetterbitches /// softforklave @softforklave (shameless self promo) ///spookyfbi @spookyfbi /// stuckinmybook /// Squintern @chinchillinator /// squishitude @squishitude /// sunriseseance @sunriseseance /// sunshineklaus

T - Y

tealeavesandtrash @carry-on-my-wayward-hobbit /// thefangirlingdead @thefangirlingdead /// TheMadHatterOfficial /// thetreasuerhunter @yeah-klave /// tjstar @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky /// TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone @tobiboonethesmallspoone/// TotallynotRemus @totallynotremus /// TwistedIllusions @courtneytarynofficial /// twosidedcoin /// VeteranKlaus @veteranklaus /// wildeism @knifecatklaus /// writer_inthe_dark /// yukiawison /// zweebie

Fics (authors with currently only one klave fic)

Placeholder by Ace_Chey (mrs_sakuma) @cheydoesfandom

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS A FIRST DRAFT WIP, EXPECT MISTAKES IN SPELLING, GRAMMAR, AND TIMELINES after NaNo I plan to edit and republish a cleaner, more complete version in 2021 ~~~

When Klaus sees the news that their father is dead, they’re feeding their seven-month-old daughter, Grace Kelly Katz, one year sober, and finally back on T (prescribed this time). Their siblings still haven't met Dave, let alone Gracie, and Klaus can't bear the thought of introducing them, not now, under these circumstances, so they go alone. But when the family reunion becomes complete with Five's sudden and bizarre arrival, not from 45 years in a wasteland, but directly from the lunch he ran away from 20 years ago, they realize things are going to get more complicated and they might not be able to put it off any longer.

Words: 58,217 Chapters: 36/? Status: Hiatus

Snapshots of a Life Well Lived by Ace_of_Spades_400

One week into Vietnam and the briefcase is broken. Klaus is never going home. He's just going to have to make the most of his life here, now.

Words: 13,960 Chapters: 3/3 Status: Complete

Run for miles just to get a taste by Agf

Dave comes back to 2019, and Klaus has some memories best exorcised with new ones.

Words: 1,666 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Not a Replacement, Never a Replacement by AndThenHeGotKnockedUp

Klaus hasn't piloted a Jaeger in years. He hasn't wanted to without Ben. He's spent all that time wandering far, far away from anything having to do with the Academy and kaiju.

Unfortunately for him, the world is ending, and Luther doesn't give him a choice.

(Pre-Klave! Will have a follow up in the future.)

Part 1 of the UA PacRim Fusion series

Words: 2,625 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

soldiered together by Anonymous

"... I was foolish enough to follow him all the way to the front line."

Words: 2,993 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

know tenderness by applepandowdy

Klaus wished, more than anything, that they had just had a bit more time.

Words: 1,266 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

whatever words I say, i will always love you by ariya167 and bigembarrasingheart @ariya-167and @bigembarrassingheart

Dave kissed Klaus first, but Klaus kissed him back.

Words: 921 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

if i could choose anything in the world (id pick you every time) by aseriesofessays @macroglossus

"Would you have come back?"

He thinks about a farm.

Words: 588 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

The Boy and The Ghost by Astheroid

“Look for me. Promise me Dave, promise you’ll look for me at the Umbrella Academy!”

Dave never knew what those words meant, the parting words of the man he loved, and they made absolutely no sense.

Until thirty-four years later when he found his purpose.

“Our world is changing. Has changed. There are some among us gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary. I have adopted six such children. I give you the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy.”

or story of ghost Dave finding thirteen year old Klaus and swearing to protect him from all evil.

Words: 4,494 Chapters: 2/? Status: WIP

new year, new me (things always turn out how they’re meant to be) by Astronomical_Aphrodite @aesthetic-antheia

When they travelled back through time, Klaus wasn’t expecting to be the only one who remembered.

Part 1 of maybe by next January

Words: 80,770 Chapters: 18/20 Status: WIP

Five times Klaus dies in Vietnam and comes back, and One time Someone else does by BabyPom

Klaus can't seem to die, at least not permanently.

Words: 1,169 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

How The Hollyhocks Bloom by batcavemasquerade

In which Klaus Hargreeves, a retired pacifist, is dumped headfirst into the Vietnam War. Klaus never comes home and his brothers and sisters claw their way back to him, one by one, after the end of the world.

AKA: The siblings go back to the 1960s to regroup and to get a few measly moments of goddamned peace and quiet, and find Klaus serving in the Vietnam War, different and sober as can be.

Words: 24,035 Chapters: 16/20 Status: WIP - Chapter 16 is the new chapter 1. For the rewrite, read from 16 and upwards.

i hope you know you're my desire (i hope you know you're the one) by beezran

It must be fate when Dave puts his hand on Klaus’ cheek right as Klaus starts to ache for his kiss.

Kiss me.

His touch makes Klaus stand up straighter and edge closer to him.

“You’re beautiful, you know?” Dave says, and even with all that they’ve been drinking, Klaus knows it isn’t that what’s talking.

“Kiss me,” Klaus actually says it. He can’t take it back, and he doesn’t want to when Dave is looking at him like that.

Dave’s breath ghosts over his lips and Klaus keeps repeating it in his head like a prayer.

Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.

Or he might have said it, he’s not sure when he’s so caught up in the feeling of Dave so close to him.

Words: 22,708 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Arcane Incidents of Anoxia by Bellovebug

Klaus dies.

Klaus dies, and Dave can't breathe.

He forgets what it's like, the feeling of oxygen entering his lungs, the sensation of carbon dioxide exiting them.

He remembers, though, the stories Klaus used to tell. He remembers that joke he'd made about that briefcase he always carried around being a time machine. He remembers the tall tales of a family of superpowers, a less than stellar father. He remembers the stories he'd spun out of thin air, of time travel and a disappearing brother and a talking chimpanzee and a robot mother.

(He remembers the true story he'd told about seeing ghosts.)

He only learns once he opens that mysterious briefcase under Klaus's cot that all of the stories were true.

Every one of them.

Words: 22,075 Chapters: 4/? Status: WIP

life is full of pain, i'm cruisin' through my brain by bigembarrassingheart @bigembarrassingheart

Bullets whizzed past his ears, and he would have screamed but he already was. Klaus grabbed Dave’s face, stroked his cooling cheek, rested his head on his shoulder like he did when they had nights alone. There had to be some life left in his body. In any second he would feel the heave of his chest. He had to.

Klaus takes a pit stop before going back to the future.

Words: 1,188 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

found by burlesquecomposer

Klaus’s right hand is Dave’s favorite one to hold. As long as they embrace hello, Dave says, they’ll never have to say goodbye.

But war is a bitch, and Dave is the one who gave him an excuse to charge into it head-on.

Words: 2,628 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

You Drew Stars Around My Scars by caliibee

“Does it hurt?” Klaus asked softly, running his fingers over Dave’s face and down his neck. He trailed down his chest, mindful of the deep-set wound that always sent a shock through his heart no matter how many times he’d seen it. Dave caught his hands and brought them back up to cup his face.

“No, not anymore.”

Words: 792 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

The Umbrella Academy: Winter Soldier by chiquitasdave and ratsbaby (orphan_account)

Luther lands an uppercut to the jaw, sending the soldier flying, and Diego’s moving before he even lands. His grip on Klaus tightens and his mouth opens to say something, anything, to pull him back to the safety of the car they crouch behind, but Klaus beats him to the punch. He leans forward to better watch the action, to cheer his brother on (or clean up his remains, depending on how this goes), and stops cold as the soldier pushes himself to his feet again.

Klaus' first thought is that he’s beautiful. Klaus’ second thought is that he knows him.

The threat of danger is sensed and signals fire to tell the brain, no, not yet! We weren’t meant for this! He can’t take it now! The body reacts to stop him, but Klaus steps forward anyway. He ignores every impulse because he knows him, because love makes him stupid, because he has to.

Klaus takes another step forward.

‘Dave?’

‘Who the hell is Dave?’

Words: 13,120 Chapters: 3/10 Status: WIP

I Could Not Be At Rest, I Could Not Be At Peace by CosmicJourney @cosmictapestry

With the apocalypse delayed, there's now ample opportunity for Klaus to open up to his siblings about his past. There's also ample opportunity to try and conjure Dave. Unfortunately, one of these has to take precedence over the other.

(Season 1 AU)

(Sequel to "I'll Find Sleep, I'll Find Peace")

Words: 52,274 Chapters: 10/10 Status: Complete

Sick Of Losing Soulmates by CrazyAngel

"Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences."

Back in 2019, things are the same but also different. The Hargreeves have messed with the timeline way too much and some things clearly aren't the same — like giving the chance for Klaus to meet Dave again. Klaus knows nothing about reincarnation or if it was really he and his brothers fault for this, but he'll take the chance anyway. Even if this Dave is blind now.

Part 1 of the Right Back Where We Started (Again) series

Words: 26,417 Chapters: 6/6 Status: Complete

Admist the Chaos by crazynadine

Ten months. Klaus spent ten months in Vietnam, fighting a war he didn't belong in, falling in love with a man he didn't deserve.

The long and convoluted tale about how a time traveling junkie and a disillusioned solider found love amidst the chaos of war....

Words: 87,700 Chapters: 10/10 Satus: Complete

The beginning of something by DoctorProfessorSong @doctorprofessorsong

The Hargreeves siblings find themselves in a future they barely recognize. Their father is alive. Their home is occupied by a mixture of strangers and familiar faces calling themselves The Sparrow Academy. None of them are friendly.

But it's all going to be okay. Five has a plan to restore the timeline. The rest of the siblings just need to sit tight and lay low. Just don't wander off. How hard can that be?

A continuation of the story from S2 because I am impatient for more. This one is gonna get real dark but I promise I am going to give the Hargreeves a happy ending.

Words: 52,548 Chapters: 18/18 Status: Complete

take me out, baby by downpours @fourhargreeves

For someone who spent a decade running from the debts he owed, Klaus spent an alarming amount of time trying to recompense Dave for loving him.

Words: 6,802 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Your Song by eithergayorgayer @yerbluues9

"And you can tell everybody, this is your song."

In which Klaus can play piano and sing and decides to serenate Dave who is watching from above.

Words: 3,578 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Hands by GoldenBones

Late at night after the disco when everyone else is asleep, Klaus kneels at Dave’s bunk and whispers a silent prayer into Dave’s hands. In a rare moment of peace against the harsh Vietnam winter, Klaus holds Dave’s hand against his face and tries to sleep.

Words: 1,640 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Ink and Dirt, Eggs and Orange Juice by HappySeaNinja

It’s a quick job on an overcast day, in and out, smooth like coffee, and the only hitch is in his voice when he says goodbye. There’s dirt under his fingernails, ink on his stomach, and a lingering shot of whisky on his tongue.

Really, it’s all that’s left.

Non-linear moments in Klaus and Dave's relationship across seasons 1 and 2. Please don't read unless you've watched all of season 2 as there are spoilers.

Words: 4,631 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

oh love, i'm there in memories by hellchoirs

"If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again."

Words: 1,536 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

To Have a Home by heterophobe

Dave Katz is a simple man. He values kindness, honesty and strength of character. As someone who is queer and homeless, he also has a fairly substantial distrust of law enforcement.

This is why—when a twig of a man, with kohl-lined eyes and a vibrant pair of purple tights, sprints across the alley-way he’s seated in, skids to a halt at the corner of a dumpster, and balls himself tightly out of view from the street—Dave doesn’t make a move to flag down confused-looking uniformed officers that follow him into the mouth of the alley.

It’s also why—when said officers approach him, and ask him if he’s seen anyone come by—he takes one look at the man’s pleading eyes and shakes his head mournfully. “No, sorry officers.”

OR:

As told through a series of non-linear snapshots, Dave and Klaus come to know one another.

Words: 3,346 Chapters: 2/15 Status: WIP

Dream A Little Dream of Me by idkpeachystuff

"Klaus, thinking back, had always thought that was a strange term. Making love. He wasn't actually certain why. Sex had always felt like...well, sex. Fucking. Nothing entirely special or intimate that he felt had the effect on his heart like nearly everyone had made it seem it should be. And despite how utterly and disgustingly cliché it sounded, that was of course until he met Dave."

Klaus wakes before Dave on their last morning together, on a weekend out in town that is, leaving him with one of his only options to remember everything that had happened the night before and realizing that he was deeply in love, and no matter what, he was never getting out

Words: 3,015 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

projected stars across the night sky by iheardarumor (sonicraptors)

The best nights he’d ever had in his life were spent at his side.

Words: 1,496 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Late Shift at The Umbrella Café by intravenusann @jeffgoldblumsmulletinthe90s

Klaus and Ben have the afternoon shift together almost every day. But not every day are the customers as nice — or as hot! — as this new Dave guy.

Or, in other words, a story where Klaus gets his life together enough to get a boyfriend.

Words: 45,563 Chapters: 6/6 Status: Complete

Need Some Advice by Jenni4

Niki wasn’t used to anyone asking her opinion, so she was surprised when Vina walked into work with an extra energy drink and slid it to her. “Need some advice.”

Niki raised an eyebrow and opened the can and took a big gulp. Vina had been sitting next to her at the call center for exactly two days now. “What makes you think I’m qualified to give anyone advice?”

Vina shrugged out of her jacket and took her seat. “You seem to have your shit together.”

Niki almost choked on her laughter at that one. “That’s so far from the truth but…”

Words: 5,192 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Farewell by JuliusQuasar @juliusquasar and LittleRit @littlerit

Day 20: Shipwrecked

Part 10 of the LittleRit's MerMay Fills 2021

Words: 100 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

a life so demanding by kaijugore @kaijugore

"He was still carrying the war in his heart, how was he supposed to talk about that?"

Ten months. 304 days. 7,300 hours. 438,000 minutes. It would never ever ever be enough time.

Part 1 of the i am (not) afraid to keep on living series

Words: 1,861 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

the sugar rush, the constant hush by kamisado

The scars across his body mark a treasure map of mistakes. Tiny shrapnel scars and rosy-red roadrash, a lifetime of being thrown to the ground by Academy training and the real world. The ivory line tracing across his jaw, almost invisible. The tattoos and the traintracks, the pockmarked puncture wounds scattered like a horrifying constellation across his body.

He’s so tired.

[a klaus s1 character study]

Words: 3,801 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

By The Firelight by keatches @klauzoleum

They share a long look, their lips still tilted in small, secret smiles.

“I’m Dave.” He extends an open palm, skin callous but inviting. Klaus reciprocates with a clap of his own hand against his.

“Klaus.” He tilts forward as the bus jolts, trundling them away to disaster. The briefcase knocks against the heel of his boot, but Klaus absentmindedly nudges it aside.

The five significant times Klaus spoke to Dave. The one time he never will again.

Or, how they fell in love.

Words: 14,681 Chapters: 6/6 Status: Complete

in midnights, in cups of coffee by klausgraves

Dave is just trying to keep his bookstore open, and the stoned hottie that keeps wandering in and talking at the air really, really isn't helping.

Words: 7,316 Chapters: 3/? Status: WIP

Sehnsucht by KimbaSprite @pokemonmasterkimba

Day 26: Longing

What was supposed to be a casual night out takes a turn for the weird when Dave encounters a mysterious stranger stranded on the beach. His sister keeps telling him he needs to meet new people and make connections, so why not with Klaus? Even if he is so attractive that Dave feels he may get sick from nerves alone.

“Hey, my eyes are up here. Careful, or you may get lost in them.“ He looks into Klaus’s eyes as instructed and hmm. Yeah, wow.

Klaus bites his lip in a way that is definitely attractive, and Dave wonders if he realizes what he’s doing to him. Probably. Probably. Klaus seems like the kind of person who knows just how powerful they are.

All at once Dave finds himself sympathizing with old-timey sailors; he could see himself risk drowning just for the chance to exist in the same space as Klaus.

Words: 8,585 Chapter: 1/1 Status: Complete

I'll Never Let Them Hurt You (I Promise) by LaceratedLullabies

But whatever apocalyptic future Dave found himself in couldn’t be worse than the present. His world had already ended. - On February 21st 1968, Klaus Hargreeves dies in Vietnam. A heartbroken Dave follows his last connection to the man he loves: a time-travelling briefcase. 50 years out of time, Dave has to deal with a changed world, his aborted grief and a tortured Klaus who doesn't know him yet. Oh, and the impending apocalypse.

Words: 13,851 Chapters:7/? Status: WIP

I Will Follow You by lostonthisisland @distilledspirit

After Dave's death on the front lines of the Vietnam War he's pulled through time to witness important points in Klaus' life.

Was going for a 5+1 format, but it's a bit looser than that. So, in other words, 5 times Dave sees Klaus and 1 time Klaus sees Dave.

Words: 6,693 Chapters: 2/2 Status: Complete

i get down on my knees and pretend to pray by marinersapptcomplex @wavesknowshoress

He was quiet, for once, standing silent and breathing in the air around him. There were tears in his eyes.

Words: 2,044 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Soulmates by Meilena

"Klaus was twelve, as high as a kite, and in fact, did know why his soulmark looked so thin and light."

Everyone has a soulmark, which is where the name of their soulmate resides on the skin of their left forearm. Klaus has one too, only his is a little different.

Words: 853 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

(Feels Like) Heaven by Melivian @melivian

When Klaus wakes up in the afterlife, he can't believe his luck. Somehow, despite his checkered past and wobbly moral compass, he's made it into the Good Place, where he'll spend eternity with his dream soulmate in a dream neighbourhood.

Only there are two problems. The first is that he's pretty sure the architect of this neighbourhood has the wrong person. And if she catches on that Klaus doesn't belong with all the heroes and philanthropists here, he'll be sent to the Bad Place.

The second is that for the residents, this dream is starting to feel a lot like a nightmare...

Part 1 of the I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door series

Words: 23,496 Chapters: 5/28 Status: WIP

Hello, Goodbye by michaelfalls

His eyes stare where Klaus can’t see. His soul goes where Klaus can’t follow.

Words: 2438 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

come on, baby by myeyesarenotblue @myeyesarenotblue

“Dave, my sister has powers,” Klaus says, matter of factly, bobbing his head up and down, “She’s had powers this whole time but my asshole father decided she was too-” and he looks down at the notebook, does finger quotes with one hand, “- 'uncontrollable' and 'dangerous’ to use them.”

“Powers?”

“Yeah.”

“As in- superpowers? ”

“Yeah,” Klaus says, and then- “I have to tell her," and then- "Wanna come with?"

Words: 5,081 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

your fingers weave quick minarets by nerdsandthelike @nerdsandthelike

According to Five, they have an apocalypse to stop in the future and here Klaus is fifty years too early trying to get in the pants of some probably straight GI who Ben keeps reminding him looks like Luther before the protein shakes. Because he’s not Allison, Klaus decides to put that particular observation waaaaaayyy to the side.

Words: 6,615 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

My Heart Is Playing Hide-And-Seek (Wait And Count To Four) by nessbess (orphan_account)

Klaus had spent what felt like a lifetime searching for Dave after he died in 1968. But Dave found him first, long before that. Klaus was five years old the first time he appeared.

Words: 11,908 Chapters: 8/? Status: WIP

Five and Dave's Life Changing (Life Saving) Field Trip by neuronary

The little boy, who Dave could now see was not as little as he’d first thought, shoved a tin mug at him. “Drink this.”

Dave drank. It tasted sickly sweet and slightly citrus-y. “Who are you?”

“Five.” The boy’s scowl deepened at Dave’s confusion. “Klaus’ brother.”

Or, Five saves Dave's life to stop Klaus from moping. From Dave's perspective, a very grouchy, sleep-deprived twelve-year-old kidnaps him and he finds it much more entertaining than he should.

Inspired by Lyviel's 'Fixes to the Timeline'

Words: 1,728 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

breathy on the bits by Nucci @maundering-marauder

“So Fivey, tired of the school boy chic?” Klaus asked with a manic grin, “Because do I have so many ideas for you.”

“As long as it’s warm, I don’t really care.”

“Warm, check” Klaus noted, miming checking a box with his finger, “Any other demands?”

“No sequins,” Five replied and blipped out of the room.

---

Or, Five’s tired of wearing the Academy uniform and Klaus offers to help. As is wont to do with the Hargreeves, emotions and miscommunication ensues.

Words: 8,702 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

The Collision of Your Kiss by orphan_account

Klaus spends ten months in Vietnam.

Dave is why.

Words: 4,505 Chapters: 1/1 Status: discontinued

pieces (skin to bone) by orphan_account

The first time Klaus dies, he is thirteen. He dies again at seventeen, eighteen, twenty-four. By his fifth death, he has resigned himself to the blackness that awaits him. Not that he much cares: anything would be better than this, even blissful oblivion, even floating in blackness until his mind decays, and, like Five, he starts seeing people where there aren’t there, falling in love with a mannequin or a fleck of dust in his eye.

Dave won't come to Klaus, so Klaus decides to go to him.

Words: 2,128 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

in the mountain of the crouching beast by patrocluus

Dave catches his eye later, when they’re sitting next to each other in the bumpy truck, men jostling into each other on all sides; the corner of his mouth quirks up a little, just enough to make Klaus’ heart jump in his chest. He doesn’t remember the last time someone looked at him like that: like they have a secret to share, and that secret is the most important thing in the world, even if that world seems to be ending around them.

Or: It's 1968, and deep in the A Shau Valley, Vietnam, Klaus meets a man who feels like home.

Words: 8,203 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

in the january rain by phcbosz

And all Klaus has left to prove that any of it happened and wasn’t just one fucked up dream is a pair of bloody dog tags, a tattoo on his arm, and the taste of ash sticking to the roof of his mouth.

Words: 5,226 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Dancing to the Rhythm of a Different Drum by PlaneJane

Klaus escapes from one terror, and finds himself in another: the A Shau Valley, Vietnam, 1968.

"They kissed at midnight, breath heavy with liquor, the first brush of Dave’s lips making Klaus weak at the knees. Giddy at the gentle way Dave took his face in his hands, like Klaus was something precious."

My Klaus and Dave backstory, because the show didn't give me enough.

Words: 1,498 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

His name was Dave by punkspiders

Klaus reflects back upon his time both in the Vietnam War, and with the man he loved more than himself.

Words: 1,654 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

How Not To Propose by RhubarbDuck

His life follows a monotonous routine: wake up, smoke, go to the same shitty grocery store, space out for eight hours and occasionally stock shelves, more drugs, rinse, and repeat.

His life was, at some point, a little more exciting (if exciting meant going on a week-long bender and waking up in a cell with the worst headache he ever experienced). After a couple weeks in jail and the threat of a rehab that he could never attend, he met Dave. Honestly, Klaus couldn’t remember his life before Dave. Dave was kind and understanding and way too put together to be with a fuck up like Klaus, but for whatever reason he seems to love Klaus- or at least he tells him so twice a day.

American Ultra AU

Words: 19,824 Chapters: 5/? Status: WIP

The Moments We Had by RosyPages @thesevenumbrellas

A series of moments between Dave and Klaus as they fall in love during the war.

Words: 2,044 Chapters: 3/8 Status: WIP

In the Dark by runrarebit

So they're back in the past, they're thirteen again, Ben is alive, Vanya doesn't remember, her siblings are suddenly treating her differently, better, and all of a sudden she and Klaus are bonding- Klaus who is still trying to be clean and sober- except things are never easy, are they? There’s their father to contend with, once more alive and at the height of his power over them, and there’s secrets, always secrets, always in danger of getting out, and after their father decides that a clean and sober Klaus is a Klaus that can resume his training Reginald Hargreeves just might not be the scariest man walking the halls of the Umbrella Academy- even if only one person can see him.

The thing about Klaus is that, even trapped, in the dark, he is never alone. Never alone. Never. And the past he's been running from ever since he was a small child might just now be something he can’t escape from.

Words: 61,243 Chapters: 18/18 Status: Hitaus

well, the clock says it's time to close now by rythyme (pugglemuggle)

The first time Klaus falls in love, it's in the middle of a war. Fate really does enjoy cruel irony.

Or, a series of vignettes from the ten months Klaus and Dave spent together in Vietnam.

Words: 3,788 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Fancy Seeing You Here by Saccha @sacchariwrites

Dave miraculously survives being shot in the chest, and is present when Klaus gets in a fight at that vets bar.

Written for EnKlave Fest.

Words: 1,891 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Valentine’s Day in Vietnam by salvador-daley @salvador-daley

A hungover Klaus awakes after a night in the arms of a young man from Dallas

Words: 1.7k Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

In the Dark of the Night by sassmaster_tiresias @i-will-fong-you

The flashlight is still on, peeking out between the folds in Dave’s comforter, and Dave remembers how frantic Klaus had been to turn it on.

He remembers how he couldn’t even really see Klaus when he’d first woken up, his beautiful face obscured by the darkness. Then, he remembers the Christmas lights in Klaus’ room—strung in a haphazard zig-zag up the wall beside his bed, the soft glow that was present every time Dave had been in that room.

“The lights,” he says.

Words: 2,437 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

War is Hell by sauropod @occult-criticality

Klaus' hands were still filthy with dried blood and muck as he fumbled at the clasps, the combination lock on the top. Desperate, blind hope had his heart going a mile a minute. The dial still read that seemingly random set of numbers it had the first time he opened it on the bus, what felt like a lifetime ago.

0213-18-02-1967

“Please.” Klaus choked. “Please work.” He opened the briefcase.

Words: 80,813 Chapters: 21/? Status: WIP

New and Familiar by Snabby

If you told Dave a year ago that he had a loving (if a bit crazy) boyfriend, in a relationship which he didn’t have to hide, he wouldn’t have believed you. Although that thought isn’t as crazy in comparison to being in the future and the fact that his boyfriend, can not only see ghosts but was raised in a crazy cult-like superhero family.

In Dave’s opinion, the oddest thing out of the whole family is Five

So he was a little shocked and confused when Five popped in front of him.

“I need you to get a decent fucking cup of coffee” shoving his little finger in Dave’s face

----------

Or Klaus and Dave pretend to be Five's parents so the poor little dude can get coffee

Words: 1967 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

It's a Piece of Cake to Bake a Pretty Cake by StardustInYourEyes

Prompt: Flour fight in the kitchen Klaus and Dave's attempt at making a cake

Words: 2,535 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

i just wish that you were here, now by sapphictomaz

Immediately after the Season One finale, Klaus finds himself back in 1968, and is forced to so some soul-searching while dealing with the rest of his siblings and the memories he has of Dave from the first time around.

Title from "Wish You Were Here" by Marianas Trench.

Words: 4,055 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

face to face (and a thousand miles apart) by shadowlancer_95 @shadowsofmoonracer

His strides were long, and shaky as he stumbled through the darkness, relying on the barest threads of memory to Allison’s house. The cut on his lip stung in the cold night air, his throbbing cheekbone a mere shadow of the agony in the hollow cavity where his heart used to be.

Or,

Klaus, after his second (and most disastrous) meeting with Dave.

Words: 1,799 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

i wore his jacket for the longest time by sharkhette

So, maybe Klaus wasn’t in his right frame of mind. Maybe he hadn’t been for a long time. But Dave was dead, and that meant Klaus should be able to conjure him, one way or another. The traditional method of cleaning up his act and sitting around to wait hadn’t worked, so it was time to get imaginative.

Klaus just wants to see Dave again, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen, no matter the cost. Includes conversations with Ben, Diego, God, a surly preacher, and gratuitous references to certain MCR songs.

Words: 7,252 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

His oxygen belongs to Death by Sophiethegeek

He can almost taste their bloodlust on his tongue, feel their rage heavy in his breastbone. They’re bad today, and it’s safe to say he’s having a very bad day as a result. Each swipe is sending icy pain across his skin, making him shiver. God, he’s cold.

He closes his eyes, pretending not to hear the faint roar of the snarling, crying, screeching mass around him. Why did he think sobriety was a good idea? Christ on a cracker, this fucking sucked.

Or: After hopping around time, and returning to the day of the apocalypse that never was, Klaus falls apart slowly, then all at once.

Words: 91,661 Chapters: 8/? Status: WIP

Love You, Sugar by spaceysev

There’s a reason Klaus can’t listen to Total Eclipse of the Heart anymore, and it’s got everything to do with the only man who was ever allowed to call him Sugar.

Words: 3,828 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

musical preference by sourcheeks

“Of course you don’t like country.”

“I never said that,” Klaus replied diplomatically, even though it was true.

Words: 227 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Wings of Feathers and Wax by TerezFox8989

A look at the morning after their first time.

Hell, he always considered it a personal victory if he could put a name to a face after, which had suited him just fine. Sex had always had a means to an end, he used and was used; drugs, food, sleep, alcohol. But never this...not mornings after wrapped up in each other talking about family.

Words: 1,534 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

One Night in Saigon by terracotta_heartbreak

They're drunk, they're in a Saigon Hotel, and Klaus is smoking on the bed, but that's nothing new. But it's such an odd thing to be alone together, that doe-eyed strange man who never made sense here, and the soldier who'd fallen for him, for all those eccentricities. How are you meant to make sense of each other in the 60s, in that musky haze of war, drugs and the sounds of political blues rock?

Words: 2,011 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Just One in Thousands by TheArchaeologist @ancientstone

Take the idea that Five is followed by all his victims from his time at the Commission, and take the idea that Five is responsible for Dave’s death, and what do you get?

Pain.

Pain is what you get.

Words: 1,351 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Dancing with a Ghost by TheBestofEverything

"Would you like to share this dance with me?" Dave asked quietly.

"I'd love to," Klaus smiled as he took Dave's hand in his.

(Klaus is finally sober, and he conjures Dave.)

Words: 664 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Bad Enough for You by thehoundisdead

Dave can be bad. He doesn’t want to be but he can. He wants to spoon Klaus; to gather him up tight enough against his chest to hold all of his pieces together, to let him relax for once. He wants to take a bath with him and shampoo his hair and make him breakfast in bed and wrap him up in his softest blanket. But that’s not what Klaus wants, at least not yet. Dave has a strong suspicion that Klaus has never been treated softly by a partner. So, bad boy.

based on the song bad enough for you by all time low

Words: 8,757 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

The Way Light Swallows Shadows by TheSevenUmbrellas (RosyPages) @thesevenumbrellas

Dave is a vampire hunter who has never hunted a vampire in his life. Klaus is a vampire made for a war that ended before he was even born. When ten years of peace are put at risk after the death of a hunter, they’re both faced with the possibility that maybe the war isn’t over after all. Separated from their respective sides, Dave and Klaus have no other option but to depend on each other to get home before a war can tear their lives apart.

Words: 5,932 Chapters: 2/24 Status: WIP

Tag, You're It by totallyevan @totallyevan

Dating in Vietnam was never easy. Klaus and Dave have to watch out for everything, but thankfully they know their way around the system. Things escalate quickly and the only witness is the moon.

Words: 11,116 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

something so magic about you (so tragic about you) by Tremble

Snippets of their live in Vietnam or Dave slowly finding out that Klaus is nowhere near ordinary. --- This was originally suppose to be a 5+1 thing, but uh that didn't happen. oops

Words: 6,625 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

21.02.1960 by Uglyfrogboi

It was funny how time worked, how it was both only a couple of weeks ago yet it was also exactly nine years in the future. Why is he mourning a day that hasn’t technically happened yet? It’s a simple answer really, that was the day he thinks he last felt anything other than that horrible, thick, smothering, emptiness that seems to follow him around. Today, nine years from now, is the day that his world ended.

How Klaus deals with being dropped in the past, ten days before the anniversary of Dave's death.

Words: 3494 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

you're getting on my (optic) nerves by untrustworthyglitch

Klaus Hargreeves is many things. He's a former child superhero, an estranged brother, a drug addict, a frequent flyer at the local rehab facility. He can talk to the dead and never seems to die and loves a good thunderstorm.

He's also blind, but he wasn't always.

Part 1 of the blind!klaus (hazy, but hopeful) series

Words: 6,375 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

Scarlet Song by UrsaCentum(phantomviola) @flecket

Klaus isn’t a big fan of Hell.

drabble written for TUA AUgust 2021 Day 25: Angel/Demon

Part 6 of the Ursa's AUgust Fills 2021 series

Words: 100 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

never felt so high (think i'm coming down) by wewhofightmonsters

“Dave,” he whispers, and he leans down to press a kiss, light as a summer breeze, to Dave’s forehead, “Dave, I’m a fucking idiot. I love you back. I love you back.” And as he says it, he knows it to be true, and that small, closed up part of him that has languished in the dark and the constant haze of drugs, unfurls and stretches out towards the light. “I love you back,” he says again, in wonder.

(Klaus and Dave, and second chances)

Words: 24,536 Chapters: 8/? Status: WIP

Curl Conditioner by wormbcy @nastyworm

Klaus tidies up his supplies and puts it all back in the cabinet, and then hums to himself in thought.

"Hey Dave, space for another in there?"

Words: 6,524 Chapters: 1/1 Status: Complete

would it be enough (if I could never give you peace) by ZJpotter

The Hargreeves' and their sixties love.

Chapter 2: Klaus, bugs, and the definiton of home.

Words: 2,909 Chapters: 2/2 Status: Complete

#klave #klaus hargreeves #dave katz #tua #the umbrella academy #fic rec #Happy new year noelle! May 2021 be filled with klave!

252 notes · View notes

light-yaers · 3 years

Text

No Saints: Chapter One

This content is explicit and is 18+

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, violence, implied effects of PTSD, death and explicit language.

Read on Ao3 here | Fic Masterpost

A/N: Hey everyone! So, after some consideration, I’ve also decided to post each No Saints chapter on individual Tumblr posts, as well as Ao3. I know some people like reading things on Tumblr and it must just seem easier if there are actual chapters uploaded to here as well. I’ll be posting them all over the next few days and then we’ll be all caught up!

This also means that I can now have a TAG LIST, so if you’d like to be notified for when Chapter Nine comes out, then please tell me and I’ll tag you when I update next.

Once again please excuse any small spelling or grammar mistakes. No beta we die like men.

Word Count - 7.3k

Chapter One

Working as a mechanic on Nevarro didn’t often gift you the visual of friendly faces, and that was no different with the Mandalorian—he never showed his face. You wouldn’t know his smile even if he decided to wake up one day without slotting Beskar all over his body.

But you knew his stance, the broadness of his shoulders, his preference for short range blasters with the safety close enough for his index finger to reach before firing at will. You didn’t really know people on Nevarro, but you knew their weapon of choice.

It was knowledge that had ended up being valuable, both to your survival, and to that of the Mandalorian.

“I’ll pay you for this information,” He offered bluntly. He never begged, nor did he show his true emotions within his modulated voice very often. The only vague emotion you’d seen him give off was anger—seething and insatiable— the first time he’d ever approached you for a repair.

“What good will this information give you?” You asked, genuinely. “I don’t know their names, this is hunter country. No one ever gives away their identity,”

“A weapon needs someone doing the firing,” He replied simply.

You agreed to his terms, partly from the initial fear that he would harm you, think you to be working against the Guild, but also from the generous sum he was willing to give you for every piece of information you passed onto him.

And thus, began a sort-of partnership that you’d never expected.

You were no saint. You knew the damage done by the goods you willingly sold to trained killers, assassins, Guild members. You saw the bodies dragged from their ships to the Guild, you saw the bounties that went out, kicking and screaming and spitting at their captors—

You saw the blood and dirt and flakes of flesh with every weapon upgrade or repair, but now, you didn’t bat an eye. It was business, it was your livelihood, and it was good money, thanks this this agreement with the Mandalorian that you’d made a while back.

Mando arrived back on Nevarro every few weeks. His condition was always subject to review; sometimes he flowed through your doors, ready for a quick exchange; other times, he took his time with it, sitting opposite you as you went through the recent repair logs, discussing the types of people that came through your doors.

Over the months, however, he always ended up sticking around for longer periods of time. Whether it was from earlier exhaustion, or the normalcy of having a conversation that didn’t end in bloodshed, you didn’t mind. He was the only constant in your life, splitting up your weeks and months when, before, honest interaction had basically been at zero.

“Are you not worried?” He asked one evening. It was late, and your shop was technically closed. You’d awoken to the subtle clicks of your entrance being lockpicked, hoisting yourself out of bed in nothing but your nightwear and grabbing the blaster you kept by your pillow.

You’d rushed to the shop front, aiming your blaster right at his chrome covered head. He’d raised his hands immediately, not once going for his own weapon. The feeling in the pit of your stomach as you lowered your weapon hadn’t been one of anxiety, but of warmth—he trusted you enough not to grab his weapon, not to even incline that he was going to shoot you.

“Worried about what?” You replied, flicking through the logbook.

“A bounty escaping, knowing that you shared this information,” You stopped flicking through the pages, freezing slightly where you sat opposite him. You sensed his sudden unease, deciding to look up directly into his visor.

“Tell me this, Mando,” You began. “What’s my name?”

He looked at you blankly, but you liked to imagine what facial expression he pulled beneath his helmet. In this moment, you imagined he was almost panicking, trying desperately to think back at what your name could be. It’d been over six months, yet names were never properly discussed. His silence proved that he’d just realised this.

“See? You don’t know it. My face is somewhat known here, sure, but my name? I try not to share it as much as you try not to show your face,” You sent him a raised brow smirk. Innately, you felt you had a responsibility to come across stronger than you looked, which is why you shoved down those subtle flickers of anxiety that arose from his question.

Sure, you had those doubts, anyone would. But living on Nevarro, doing what you did, it was an element of the job that you simply had to expect. You suspected Mando also knew that feeling well.

“You’re single-handedly keeping me in business, Mando,” You chuffed, almost sadly, but kept up an unbothered attitude. “I wasn’t going to turn this down and all these months down the line, no matter the danger, wouldn’t change that.” You ended, and you could have sworn you heard him breathe out, almost as if he was relieved that you knew these conditions from the beginning.

You kept flicking through the logbook, until you finally stumbled across a repair. “Here it is,” You perked up, shuffling yourself round so Mando could see the book over your shoulder. Your index finger grazed the page, just underneath the line he was looking for. “Repaired his blaster pistol last month. He didn’t look like a hunter, more like a scared blurrg, from what I can recall,”

“Young? Old?” Mando questioned.

“On the young side, definitely. Looked more like a runaway than anything else,” You added, feeling a strange pang of guilt in your chest. Usually, you divulged the weapon information of other hunters gone rogue, wanted by the Guild; assassins and thieves, or whatever other dirt washed up on Nevarro and in your shop.

This, however—you remembered him. He was young, he was scared, shaking like a newly born calf when he’d bumbled into your shop.

“That fits the bill,” Mando stated, before rising from his seat. You followed suit, making your way back round your front work desk and slotting the logbook beneath it. You tried to keep your expression blunt when you turned back to him, but you couldn’t help the wave of overthinking that landed in your brain.

You stared at him, leaning against the desk until your shoulders rose to cover your neck. You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a sigh, but evidently that was enough for you to get the Mandalorian’s attention.

“What?” He spoke harshly, in the same old modulated boom you were used to hearing. You forced yourself to stay still, trying desperately to find his eyes beneath the abyss of his dark visor, but of course it was no use.

“Don’t break into my shop next time,” You diverted your emotions. “Just knock if it’s after hours,”

Mando nodded once, the moonlight gleaming off the chrome that surrounded his face for just a second, before disappearing once more. He shuffled a leather gloved hand through his satchel for just a few seconds, before approaching you at the work desk.

Unceremoniously, he placed your pay in front of you, each credit dropping with a small ping against the metal surface.

“See you,” Mando said bluntly. You nodded in return, before the Beskar covered man left your shop swiftly, shutting your door gently on his way out. You stared at the credits disapprovingly, before going to relock the door behind him.

You forced yourself to shuffle through your pay, counting the credits so you could note them in your budget, but you furrowed your brows as you finished rounding them up. You must have counted them wrong—there were an extra five hundred credits than what you’d agreed with the Mandalorian all those months ago.

Shaking your head, you went about recounting them, only to get to the same exact outcome. Was it an honest mistake in his counting, or had he overpaid you? Tipped you, helped you, heard the way your voice had almost faltered when you’d told him he was keeping you afloat?

You were awash with a new type of conflict—somewhere between thanks and extreme anger. The thanks were certain; he’d listened, and he hadn’t needed to do that, but he’d done it anyway. The anger; this implied you owed him now. As much as you’d come to enjoy his occasional visits every few weeks, the man was still an utter mystery to you. You didn’t want him to have the option of springing up in here and asking for a favour, knowing that he’d done one for you prior.

But there was still a warmth—it came subtly and out of the blue often, when you were around him. You could have slapped yourself at how fast it came this time round, taking you by surprise and speeding your heart rate up beneath your ribs.

He’s a bounty hunter. Get over it.

You placed your usual cut in your savings bundle, in the safe by your bed, but the extra five hundred stayed out of that bag. You shuffled back into bed with no indication of tiredness flooding over you again. All you saw in the static darkness of your grimy bedroom was the outline of that damn helmet—

And the wonder of what lay beneath.

The next week and a half was long and soul-crushingly slow. You’d had about three repair requests total, completing them all in a matter of hours, not making more than a few thousand credits from the sales. Nevarro had seemed restless recently, with less hunters returning to the Guild for more pucks. Maybe it was just a slow week.

Mando arrived back in the evening again, after you closed your doors early for the weekend. The sunlight trickled over Nevarro sparsely, but that evening was particularly warm, so you decided to have some fun.

Your shop had a back courtyard, nothing major, but you’d transformed it into a mini-firing range a year or so back. You were firing a classic blaster when you heard him approach from behind you—you jumped out of your skin at the sight of him, blaster raised, defensive stance donned.

“I told you to knock, Mando,” You boomed out, clutching your heart and switching the safety on your blaster immediately. Mando raised his arms in subtle apology, but you could have sworn you saw the subtle shake of his shoulders beneath the Beskar.

“You sounded... busy,” He spoke, and you squinted at him, feeling your cheeks flushing. The bastard was laughing. He was silently giggling beneath his helmet, the only indication of his lapse of stoicism being from the tiniest movement of his chest and shoulders, almost indecipherable.

You shot him an amused scowl. “Did you—,”

“I locked it,” He replied, already knowing what you were asking. You gulped down surprise at his immediate response, turning back to your makeshift firing range and trying desperately to calm yourself down.

Now, you were a strong woman, that was no question. But the constant mystery of the last six months in Mando’s presence had provided you with more than you’d bargained for. Was it a reflex to suddenly feel invested in this guy’s life after a while? To want to know his backstory, his missions, his favourite breakfast food or blaster style?

The extra credits from your previous trade had only increased these feelings. What was it about a man in a mask? Or, more specifically, what was it about Mando?

And now, as you awkwardly struggled with the safety on a blaster you’d been firing since you were twelve fucking years old, all you could think about was the tone of his voice as he’d said I locked it.

“You shoot?” Mando questioned, moving round to stand next to you. You shot him a smirk, trying to conceal the thoughts within your head.

“I don’t just repair blasters, if that’s what you mean,” You could have cringed at how cocky you’d sounded, but it was too late.

“Show me,” He spoke. He didn’t demand it, but the way his voice arched it was as if he could make anyone do anything he said, just from the steadiness of that modulated drawl.

You did as you were told. You shook off your limbs subtly, before flicking off the safety and aiming at the targets you’d made. In flashes of green, you hit one, two, three targets with ease, right in the centre of their bullseye.

You changed it up, feeling a surge of confidence, or perhaps the want to impress this stoic man. Skilfully, you flipped the blaster in your hands until it had transferred to your other hand, firing another three times on the same targets and hitting them dead centre once more.

Your index finger clicked the safety on, before you stood in place, admiring the shots you’d fired.

“Try this one,” He said beside you, before he plucked the blaster from your hand and replaced it with this own weapon. You looked it over as it slotted into your grasp. It was heavier than yours, bigger, with a more distanced safety, probably because of the hand width that the Mandalorian possessed.

You furrowed your brows at his blaster, smiling at the way the steel glinted. It was well cared for, polished and gleaming, but slightly worn away around the trigger. Well-used. His own personalised weapon.

You raised the blaster towards the targets, all too aware of the way that chrome helmet was tilted towards you. You steadied your arm, applying just the right amount of pressure against the trigger, before it fired in quick succession—

You analysed the blast fire, the weight, the wind, fixing your trajectory upon impact with the trigger in a matter of milliseconds. When you stopped firing, overseeing the new collection of burning holes in the targets, you realised you’d hit them all dead centre again.

To your delight, or to your utter amazement, Mando let out a low, long whistle from beneath his Beskar.

“That’s a custom weapon,” He spoke afterwards, moving to stand before you. “Not many people could change their shooting style like that to fit the blast radius,” It was the closest thing to a compliment that you’d ever heard him offer.

You stayed silent as he replaced his blaster with your own once more, sheathing his weapon before his visor looked straight into your soul. It was shameful, how you realised you could probably stand there and analyse the chiselled and curved edges of his helmet for hours, how if you focused strongly, you could see him breathing beneath his heavy armour.

You forced yourself to step back, looking back towards the shop. “Right—business,” You said, heading inside immediately with Mando following on your tail.

You dropped your blaster on your work desk, grabbing the logbook and getting ready to flick through it once more, before Mando spoke up.

“I seek no information today,” He revealed. You froze, before slotting the logbook back beneath the desk slowly, trying to wrap your mind around his reason for visiting you.

“Okay,” You said, upon rising from beneath the desk once more. All of a sudden, you remembered his money—burning a hole in the safe in your room. You perked up, slapping your hands on the desk for lack of what the fuck to even do before getting round to almost scolding this man. “Then, I have a bone to pick with you,”

Mando dropped himself onto his usual stool, flicking his cape behind him and leaning back in subtle comfort. You swallowed, trying not to interpret anything from his clearly at ease behaviour, before heading to your bedroom quickly.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” He spoke up from the shop floor, and your heart skipped. Was that an attempt at a joke? At some comedy? You had to stop yourself, as you got to the floor and riffled through your safe for his overpaid credits, from allowing a warmth to spread through your gut.

You wanted to curse, as loud as you could. Had it really been that long that you were getting flustered over words from a Mandalorian? Undoubtedly the most hostile and unwelcoming people the galaxy had?

Or, was it just Mando himself that had you overthinking every sentence, every visit?

Credits secured in your fist, you made your way back out to the shop, dropping yourself opposite him and grabbing his arm suddenly, not stopping to think that this man could probably break you in half with his bare hands.

You dropped the credits in his gloved hand, sitting back as he stared at the pellets he now cradled in his palm.

“Not what we agreed,” Is all you said in explanation, picking up a tankard of water and sipping some down your throat, for lack of knowing how to cover up your neon cheeks after the exchange. The weather. It’s just the heat.

“I upped your pay,” He retorted.

“Bullshit, Mando,” You retaliated, allowing a few chuckles to escape your lips. Your face softened then, as you looked over to him, sitting awkwardly, still not knowing what to do with the returned credits. “Your money is your money, Mando. I’m fine with what we agreed,”

His fingers finally clasped around the credits, as his body went back to relax against the wall once more.

“Your shop,” Mando began. “You said I keep you in business,”

“That doesn’t mean I want more of your credits. Owning a washed-up weapons repair shop on kriffing Nevarro isn’t ideal, but neither is being a bounty hunter,”

“You’d earn more as a hunter with the way you shoot,” Mando replied instantly. You perked your brow, sending him a small smile.

“Are you saying I’m not a good weapons mechanic?”

You almost burst out laughing with the way Mando straightened himself, immediately being on edge. His fists tightened, almost as if he was suddenly overthinking if he’d insulted you or not.

“N-no,” He partially stuttered out, but you couldn’t keep your laughter contained. You burst out in giggles, overseeing his complete lack of sarcastic understanding. It was endearing; it made him appear more human.

“Joke, Mando. It was a joke,”

He relaxed after that once more, albeit more hesitantly. He went to slot the credits back in his bag placed on the floor, and as he did so, you allowed yourself to indulge. Beskar gleamed as he leant down, showing the twist of his torso and outlining strong triceps on the small amount of him that was unarmoured.

His neck was slender, compared to the size of his helmet. You wondered how the hell he wore that thing constantly. It didn’t look light, nor did you expect it to be all that comfortable.

If he saw you gawking when he rose once more, he didn’t make any indication of noticing. To avoid revealing what you’d been doing, you moved to cross your legs as a save. “So, why’re you here?” You finally asked, remembering that he had no reason to have visited you.

Mando tensed up slightly at your question, but not enough to come across as surprised. He’d already admitted to not needing information from you today.

“Habit,” He replied honestly. His one-word answer cut through you like a knife, striking your core and filling it with that warmth one again. It wasn’t often that you felt exposed, but sat opposite him, in your home, hearing him be so unapologetically honest had simply made those thoughts rise to the forefront of your mind once more.

You wanted to know him, but you also knew that asking him these things would result in nothing good.

You forced yourself to swallow down these rising wants, to push them away completely, before putting on a small smile. “That’s a funny way of saying that I’m your only friend,”

All effort to force those feelings away dissolved, as soon as you heard the low, modulated chuckles from beneath his helmet. They floated through the room, along with the image of his shaking shoulders and tight chest as his laughter tumbled to the floor.

You felt your cheeks flush immediately, knowing that it would be a noticeable blush. You grabbed your tankard, bringing it to your lips as you continued to indulge in looking at him, as he calmed down from the small burst of laughter that he allowed himself to show you.

There was something pulsing within you that you simply couldn’t contain; that want; that desire, after so long without knowing anyone on this godforsaken planet. Before you could stop yourself, words were already tumbling from your mouth.

“I don’t see many people on this planet, besides you,” You admitted. Mando slowly turned his visor to you, making it known that you had his full attention.

You immediately felt too vulnerable, resulting in you standing from your seat and heading round to your work desk, slamming the tankard down on the top. “It’s... well, it’s nice. I hope that, even if you don’t need information, you continue to come by,”

You held your breath as soon as you stopped talking, too afraid that you’d overstepped a line. Not that this transaction with him had ever been professional, but you knew Mandalorian’s were inherently focused on their job, and their job only.

When he didn’t reply, or move, or do anything, you started to panic. You played it off as best as you could, by downing the rest of the water in your tankard and averting your gaze to beneath your work desk, like you had the immediate need to start taking inventory.

Mando rose a few moments later, grabbing his satchel and placing it over his shoulder. The breath caught in your throat as he approached your desk. You almost gasped as a gloved hand reached for your forearm, dragging it out to hover in front of him.

He dropped the five hundred credits into your palm as your eyes flicked over his helmet at light speed. He stepped back, removing his grip from you and placing his visor upon your face one last time, before turning on his heels and heading for the door.

He unlocked it, but didn’t open it. You felt your pounding heartbeat as he cleared his throat.

“It is,” He let out lowly. “Nice.”

The door swooped open and shut behind him gently before you could say anything in return.

He didn’t come back the next week. You wondered if you’d scared him off, if your tiny confession of enjoying his company was too much.

You thought back to the way he’d said the word— Nice— as if it wasn’t something that was often spoken in his vocabulary. For a man of little words, you were increasingly amazed at how he managed to convey things with his body alone, being weighed down and covered up by Beskar at all times.

The credits still weighed on you. You’d given them back to him, you’d made yourself clear, but then he’d given them back and left without a trace.

You prayed to some god out there that it wasn’t a Mandalorian way of saying goodbye. From what you knew of Mandalore, which was very little, you knew they weren’t the gift giving types, but it still made you think.

Yet all that he’d done, despite the deal, the trade of information and the abrupt middle of the night awakenings, those small attempts at light-hearted banter and void visits had given you just a shred of hope.

People on Nevarro were cut-throat, you knew that better than most after making your home there for so long. That’s why this shook you to your core, sparking this unlikely partnership with someone such as Mando.

Stars, you missed him. It sounded ridiculous when you said it in your head, but you did. Contact was little to none on this planet.

You didn’t speak more than a sentence to people needing repairs. You didn’t sit down and talk, and fuck, the loneliness was something you were used to— yet six months of regular meetings, even just to trade information, had offered you a warmth you hadn’t realised you’d missed—

Until he was gone.

It wasn’t until three weeks later that you ventured out of the shop, certain that you were going mad. You hardly frequented the bar at the entrance of the city, choosing to stay safe and locked away in your small isolation inside the shop, but the absence of people was sucking you dry.

You entered the bar, making sure not to seem out of place. It was still an odd feeling, seeing people sitting around and drinking. You knew a lot of the locals— returning customers for repairs, all of which were hunters.

Perhaps there was some unspoken understanding that you weren’t to be touched, as the small nods of hunters hit you when you accidentally met their eyes. It almost made you feel known, but at the same time you hadn’t felt much since that last conversation with the Beskar clad hunter.

You were heading towards the bar when a voice rang out behind you. “Miss!” You swivelled on your heels, hitting his eyes.

It was Greef Karga. You knew him, everyone on Nevarro did. He was the Guild contact here, the one that most hunters got their pucks from for the next job.

“Karga, hello,” You replied, not politely, but not harshly. Being polite got you nowhere on Nevarro, and you knew that despite his smiles and willingness to be friendly, Karga was a snake in the grass.

“Drink?” He questioned, and you found yourself accepting his offer. You made your way to his booth, slotting yourself in opposite him. He grabbed a bottle of blue liquor from the floor by his feet, clicking at the droid behind the bar for glasses. “What brings you here? You don’t usually venture from your establishment,”

You regarded him, all too aware of the blaster on your hip for safety.

“Slow few weeks. Fancied a change of scenery,” You replied bluntly.

“Ah yes, business is slower than usual currently,” He admitted. A droid placed two shot glasses on your table, scuttling back to the bar. Karga swiped them towards him, uncorking the bottle and filling up both glasses. “But your repairs are stellar, and I hear your custom blasters are best sellers,”

He dragged a glass towards you, which you took once he’d taken his hand away. You swilled the liquid around, trying not to look too despondent.

“Parts are sparse,” You admitted. “Fewer hunters need new gear. I’m starting to think there’s someone better than me on Nevarro,”

Karga let out a coarse laugh, which you first mistook for a chesty cough. His smile was indication enough, however, of the funniness he obviously though that required.

“No, my dear, there’s no one better,” He replied. You chose to ignore him calling you dear. Opposite you he raised his glass to the sky, prompting you to do the same. “To good business in future,”

You nodded at him in response, before downing the blue liquor in one gulp. It burned as it slinked down your throat, hitting your stomach and causing a warmth to spread through your gut. Nothing like the small conversations the Mandalorian gave you, but it made you feel something— and that was in short supply around here.

Karga sighed in refreshment after slamming his glass back on the table, but his gaze fixed on something behind you as you deposited your glass back down. “Ah, Mando!” He exclaimed.

Your heart stopped.

You stayed utterly frozen in place, feeling a mixture of anxiety and adrenaline surge through you.

“That was fast. I wasn’t expecting you back for another few days at least,” Karga continued.

You tried not to let the hurt surge through you. So, he had been back since your last meeting. He’d been back, and he hadn’t come to visit. You tried to rationalise your hurt— he held no obligation to stop by the shop, he held no responsibility, yet— you wished—

You wished he would have.

“I trust you know our resident weapons mechanic,” Karga continued, gesturing to you. You forced yourself to turn round and look at him— face to face. His helmet stared at you blankly in response, and you wondered what expression he held beneath.

Maybe it was annoyance, thinking he was finally rid of a nobody mechanic from the inner city.

Maybe it was surprise, or hurt, or pain. You knew that despite the immense effort you were putting in to keep your stare blunt, he’d see right through you.

“Yes,” Mando replied after what seemed like hours. You turned back to Karga, pushing your glass to the middle of the table in dismissal.

“Thanks for the drink. I’ll be going,” You got up swiftly, standing in front of Mando after leaving the booth. He looked down at you, chrome visor focusing on your eyeline. You found yourself flicking your eyes from the left and right, as if you could see the placement of his eyes beneath the helmet—

Then you looked away.

You sauntered out of the bar, ignoring exclaimed farewells from Karga as you booked it out of the bar, heading straight back to the shop. Your strides were fierce, your heart pounded painfully beneath your ribs and you couldn’t stop yourself from balling your fists.

You felt like screaming, but you kept your mouth shut and your jaw tense. You felt like punching, kicking, pounding something, but you didn’t, instead opting to breathe it out as you entered your shop and slammed the door shut behind you.

It’s fine. It’s fine.

You yelled at yourself to calm down, to accept that it was nothing. God forbid, you’d gotten worked up over the smallest indication of human interaction, from a man whose face you’d never fucking seen, no less.

It was stupid. You’d long grown out of enjoying fairy tales, and this wasn’t one. You were a grown woman, hyper-fixating over a six-month long dodgy deal with a bounty hunter that you didn’t fucking know— not really, anyway.

In a frenzy, you unsheathed your blaster, heading out to your courtyard. You fired at will, not stopping to aim your blaster or even try to hit the targets. When that got dull, you actually started to try—you positioned your feet parallel to your shoulders, straightening your spine and extending your neck—

You fired, hitting the targets dead centre every time, just like normal.

You fired until your trigger finger began to ache, until the incessant anger and hurt in your chest had dissipated to a low roar that you could manage in other ways—with the bottle of Coruscant whiskey that you only saved for special occasions; big deals, good months, and, evidently, to feel something other than red, hot and seething anger.

You went to sheath your blaster, when the hairs on the back of your neck pricked up—

You turned swiftly, raising your gun and keeping your eyes wide open. You faltered when you saw the familiar glint of moon rays on chrome. Mando stood in the courtyard doorway, just as he’d done the last time you’d seen him.

Your elbow buckled, dropping the blaster to your side as you kept yourself composed. You stared him down like you were unbothered to see him. You had a feeling he knew that wasn’t the case, though, and if he’d been there for a few minutes before then your incessant firing would have proven otherwise.

“Mando,” You spoke first, keeping your voice steady. “What information do you need this time?” You kept it professional, not wanting to think back about the way you’d been so blatantly vulnerable to him before. He probably thought you to be childish, over-emotional, idiotic.

You’d rather he thought you to be that, than weak.

“What were you doing with Karga?” He demanded it this time. His voice was low, lower than usual, despite the modulator. You sheathed your pistol, stepping towards him once. He didn’t move aside.

“Drinking,” You stated the obvious. You made a move to try and get past him, but a Beskar covered forearm leant up against the doorframe, stopping you even more so.

“He’s bad news,” He continued. You let out an annoyed scoff.

“I know who Karga is. Kriff—I live here,” You accidentally let your annoyance travel through your words, making it exceptionally clear that you were pissed, if it hadn’t been obvious before.

You grabbed his forearm, tugging it away from the doorframe and pushing your way inside. He let you pass eventually, watching as you grabbed a bottle of whiskey from beneath your work desk. You jumped up onto the desk, letting your legs droop over the side as you uncorked the bottle.

It was silent. You could tell he was trying to find something to say, to bring up the obvious tension, but you also got the sense that Mando didn’t often apologise.

Why should he? He didn’t promise to come back.

He hadn’t promised. You had no idea why you were so ticked off, yet there you were—seething, angry, hurt, perhaps on the brink of tears, but possibly relishing in the fact he’d come to the shop after your little encounter. You felt sick at your own feelings.

“Are you... mad at me?” He spoke finally. The breath caught in the back of your throat. His hesitation made it clear; he didn’t often delve into the workings of others. He was being kind by even asking you about this.

You felt like a dick. All of a sudden, you could see even more so that you were being incredibly irrational. Weeks of zero contact had turned you into a moron. A lonely, overthinking moron.

You glanced up at him, holding the whiskey between your thighs. You let out a sigh.

“No,” You let out. “I’m sorry. It’s been... a strange, few weeks,” You chuckled slightly after speaking, bringing the bottle to your lips and taking a small gulp. “Loneliness is a disease, Mandalorian,” You added, taking another sip and slotting the bottle back between your thighs.

Mando moved from the doorway, striding towards you slowly. You stayed in place, focusing on the warmth that the whiskey provided you with. You finally looked up when he stood before you, not close enough to slot between your hips, but close enough for your knees to graze against Beskar.

He reached out for the bottle, grabbing it from between your thighs and making his way around to the main shop. You went to turn, but the leather of his gloved hand slotted itself between your jaw and your neck, pushing your gaze to the back of the shop.

“Don’t look,” He told you, warningly.

You did as you were told, all the while counting your shallow breaths as they quietly shook from within your body. You heard the subtle glug of the bottle, the drip as the liquid sloshed around within the glass, and then the bottle was being slotted back between your thighs from behind.

Mando’s arm wrapped itself around you as he made sure it was back in place, his glove grazing over the top of your thigh and skimming your waist as he retracted his arm back. You’d be lying if you didn’t relish in those small touches.

They set your skin alight, despite there being no skin-to-skin contact involved. It was the closest he’d ever come to you, allowing the gentler side of himself to appear. You’d never see him this way; guard down, a softness to his voice and his unknowing gaze.

You knew that he’d just raised his helmet to take a sip of whiskey—that was enough to make you gulp back the desires within your gut. You couldn’t believe he’d felt comfortable enough to do that around you. You hesitantly turned, waiting to see if it was allowed, but fully turned to him when he didn’t push your gaze away like before.

You swivelled on the top of the desk, bringing your legs round to droop over the other side, while Mando grabbed his usual stool and dragged it closer to you.

He sat, sighing slightly as he did so, before looking up at you sat before him.

“Solitude,” He spoke. “I prefer that word,” His voice was soft. You knew he was tired just from the way he spoke; he was exhausted.

“Solitude implies a sense of peace,” You replied, stepping carefully over your words. “Do you feel peace in your ship, all alone?”

“Do you feel peace in this shop?” He hit back with, avoiding your question completely. You were about to say no, but you stopped yourself. This shop was all you had, all you knew. Your choice of loneliness, over solitude, was an obvious indication of the way it made you feel, and you wanted to bet that Mando knew that, but—

Without this life, you didn’t know where you’d be.

“It’s all I have,” You admitted, finally. He nodded subtly, not moving his visor from your face.

“And this,” He said, gesturing to the Beskar he donned. “Is all I know. This is the Way,”

You looked down, swinging your legs back and forth for lack of what to do. You wanted to know more—you always wanted to know more about Mando, that was a given. But right now, you wanted to ask him everything.

“Is that why you stopped coming here?” The words trickled from your lips pitifully, but you had no choice but to accept that you’d spoken them.

Mando was silent for a few moments, but he made no indication of looking away from you. You wondered if, beneath the helmet, he was actually looking at you. Maybe he was zoning out, or was focused on the wall behind your head instead.

“I feared continuing to visit you would become a habit I could no longer break,”

There it was—that warmth. It erupted within your gut, winding its way up your spine and neck, circling down your limbs and to the spot between your legs that you always chose to ignore. You tensed up immediately, forgetting about the whiskey bottle between your thighs as the sensation only increased the wobble of your upper thighs.

“Like you said,” Mando continued, and you could have sworn that his voice sounded strained. Like he was holding back, like his body was almost forcing him to stay quiet. He stood suddenly, causing a small gasp to leave your lips involuntarily, as he strode forward to slot himself partially between your legs. “Loneliness is a disease,”

You went jelloid when a hesitant hand was placed on your thigh—

Stars, it’s been a while.

You were slowly beginning to unwind, as Mando placed his other hand on the opposing thigh, slotting himself further between your legs. As much as you wanted to speed this up, to feel skin touch skin, you didn’t know if that was actually possible for the Mandalorian.

“M-Mando,” You stuttered out, but it only made his grip tighten around your plump skin. You instinctively raised your hands to his chest, feeling the smoothness of his Beskar. “Just— wait,” You managed out, despite all of your senses not wanting him to stop what he was doing. His visor shot to your face quickly and his hands fluttered away from your thighs.

You wanted to cry— that’s not what you’d meant—

You swiped your hands across his Beskar chest plate, reaching down for his large forearms. You heard the breath hitch in the back of his throat, as a small moan escaped his modulator.

You placed his arms back on your legs slowly, but he still looked on his guard, wondering what you had to say.

“Loneliness is a disease,” You spluttered out. Your cheeks were flushed a neon red, and you could feel the rapid heartbeat erupting from beneath your ribs. “It’s— overwhelming,”

When he didn’t move or speak, you wanted to kick yourself. Had you done it again? Revealed something that was too much and reduced yourself to a vulnerable mess? For a moment, you thought Mando could smell the weakness within you, but even you didn’t realise you’d unwind this fast at the most subtle of touches from the Mandalorian.

You froze when he raised a gloved hand to pinch your chin. His thumb was firm but gentle, his other fingers curled just beneath your jaw, and his stare was unwavering.

Stars, your whole body throbbed at his touch. You wanted more, but you also didn’t want it to end as quickly as it had started, and you’d meant what you’d said— overwhelming. It was a red, hot heat that you hadn’t felt in years, it was something that you’d have to get used to again, and from the fumbling touches that Mando gave you, you felt he might be in the same boat.

His thumb slowly made its way to your mouth, gliding back and forth over your bottom lip. You were positively glowing, feeling the intimate touch of the hunter for the first time after what seemed like months of fantasy—

You’d had dreams of him, falling asleep to the image of his helmet or the way he slumped on your stool every so often, so desperate to see what lay beneath his armour.

“You’re overwhelmed?” He needlessly questioned. The way his voice trickled all over you was enough to make your body surge towards his once more. You had to stop yourself from reaching for his waistband, overcome with a hunger that you hadn’t been expecting. “It’s okay. We have time,”

With five simple words you could have collapsed to the floor right there. All too soon, his touch vanished from your skin. You leant forward has he removed himself from you, stepping back while you tried desperately to get his touch back.

The whiskey bottle between your legs slipped suddenly, toppling from its place between your thighs as you realised you’d started to open your legs wider where he’d stood between your hips. You grappled at air to try and stop it falling, but it fell from the desk—

Right into a skilful gloved hand. Mando gripped the bottle with a ferocity that you knew he’d wanted to grip you with, before stepping forward once more. He slotted the bottle between your thighs once more, but right in the nook of your upper thighs—

You shivered uncontrollably as both hands came to cradle your thighs, pushing them together to keep the bottle in place.

You watched, defeated, as he picked up his satchel from the floor and slung it over his shoulder, staring at you atop the desk when he was ready to leave.

“If I see you drinking with Karga again, I won’t be as gentle,” Despite his efforts to keep his voice strong, you heard the breathy way he spoke.

It filled you with a confidence that had disappeared as soon as he’d first placed the bottle back between your legs.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” You challenged. You couldn’t stop yourself from sending a smirk his way, and it had the desired effect—

Mando dropped his helmet to the floor as the most subtle of groans escaped his lips. He swivelled and turned, heading for the door immediately afterwards.

He opened it, letting in the cold Nevarro air. You watched as he slinked out of the door, pulling it shut from the outside—

And then there was silence. You breathed out a shaky breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding, grabbing the whiskey and taking a large gulp as you tried to regain your composure fully.

You went to bed that night utterly elated, his chrome visor appearing behind your eyes all the same.

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