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kitthepurplepotato · 1 month

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Side note: I’m not back from my hiatus I’m just posting this because I magically managed to finish this chapter before going berserk! Yay!

Chapter 20 - Can I show you how much I love you? (18+)

Summary: You just wanted to eat breakfast. So how did you end up in the shower with your freakishly handsome boyfriend, kissing each other senseless?! And the bed?! When did you get there? What’s going on?! WHAT IS THIS SHENANIGAN?!

Warnings: Swear words, 18+!!! Contains a sex scene. (It’s mostly smut, so please, if you are not okay with that or you are under 18, skip this chapter or well… you know... 😂 Thank you!)

Also, this chapter is 7K so get some water and something to snack on!

First Chapter Master List

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“Rise and shine, you drunkard.” You giggle to yourself as you look at your fluffy, absolutely adorable boyfriend who’s already frowning from the light coming in through the window.

“Hey, you wanted me to have fun, which I certainly did.” Izuku retorts sassily. You can’t help but gawk at him which only makes the green head laugh. “I’ll be fine after I take my pills. I’m not in more pain than usual, I swear.”

“Still, drinking this much in your condition…” You mutter, probably ruining the mood completely but fuck, you are so worried. It’s terrible to see such a hard working man so down, physically and mentally. You want him to be healthy and happy again, you want him to smile freely and sleep peacefully like he used to. You want to shield him from any harm, make sure nothing prolongs his current suffering but at the same time, you understand that’s he’s not a fragile human being who needs to be pampered the entire time, however, you still can’t help but want to do that.

“Sweets, I asked.” Izuku sighs. “The doctor said it’s fine. I’m fine. You are fine. Everything is fine.” He slowly strokes your cheeks until you finally relax. It takes a little bit of time, but eventually, you get there. “What do you want to do today, love?” Izuku smiles at you and it’s quite pathetic how your heart rate rises every time he’s sweet to you, even to this day. You’ve been together for long enough to get used to these touches but somehow, you just… can’t.

“Well, Katsuki, Ei, Shouto, Mirio and Tamaki went ‘monster hunting’ early in the morning. By that, I think they meant they are going to climb the big mountain. Denki is still KO so Hitoshi brought him back to their own cabin when Katsuki and the gang left for their adventures. Kyouka and Momo went down to the high street for a shopping spree. Rody went down with them to spend some time with his family. So once we clean up the bedding from the floor and… maybe we can just… chill today? In our own cabin? Try the onsen? Maybe?” Your cheeks are so flushed you are surprised Izuku haven’t commented on it yet.

“Hmm…” his cheeky hands find their way to your tummy under your shirt, slowly stroking your naked skin with a smug smirk on his face. What happened to shy Izuku?! Where is he?! Who’s this man?! “Sounds like a plan to me, Sweets.”

“If you keep doing that, we will never make it to our cabin.” You murmur into his ears with a shit-eating grin on your face. Izuku is out of the bed before you can say anything else, stuttering nonsense under his nose as he moves the so called “bedding” - a bunch of decorative pillows and massive blankets scattered on the floor - back to where they belong and he’s out of the door without a single word. You can’t help but giggle the whole way home.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” You snicker under your nose and Izuku gives you the sassiest side eye you’ve ever seen. It’s absolutely hilarious. “What?!” Oh no. You can’t stop giggling like an idiot. You really don’t need another tummy ache after yesterday’s shenanigans!

“I’m going to the onsen. Right now.” Izuku declares.

“No, not before breakfast.” You retort, standing with your hand on your hips like an angry mother.

“Oh yeah?” He comes closer, his smile bigger and bigger as you flush from his closeness. “Watch me.”

Ladies and gentleman, what happens now must be a fever dream… because Pro Hero Deku AKA Midoriya Izuku AKA Izu-Izu takes off his fucking shirt in the most attractive way possible and slowly sheds every single clothing off while you yell like a virgin with your eyes covered by your own hands.

“What the fuck, Izuku! Stop! Keep the boxers… oh my god, STOP THE VIOLENCE!” You laugh, cheekily peeking out between your fingers. “You also need to shower before going in! IZUKU LISTEN TO ME, YOU MENACE!”

“Only if you shower with me.” Izuku WINKS at you and you swear your soul just left your body for a second.

“Only if you eat breakfast.” You retort and by the surprised look on Izuku’s face, he didn’t think you’ll even consider saying yes to that question.

“You will… shower with me?” Izuku’s confidence is gone just like that, in a matter of milliseconds and you kinda feel the urge to just push him into the bathroom to prove how serious you were but you are way too hungry to even think properly right now so…

“After we had breakfast. I’m starving, Izu-Izu.”

“But… for real?”

“Well, we’ve been together for long enough to share a shower, haven’t we?” You answer with a massive blush on your face.

“I’ll re-heat the food Katsuki left for us.” Is all the answer you get before he trots away into the kitchen.

The mood… is heavy. There is just something in the air you can’t really describe, this weird tension, but not the bad kind… you don’t need to be a rocket scientist to know that today… something big will happen. It might just be the shower, seeing each other completely naked for the first time, but maybe it won’t stop there, maybe…

All the blood from your face goes somewhere else.

Calm down. Jesus Christ, woman, just calm down.

You were so deep in your thoughts you didn’t even realize the that the food is already heated up and ready to eat on the small table in the kitchen. The lovely scent of Katsuki’s food makes your tummy grumble; it might be weird to eat lunch for breakfast, but you literally can’t even be bothered to comment on it; in your household, it’s quite normal to eat whatever you guys want, whenever you want it, thanks to Izuku’s inhuman shift patterns. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, afternoon snack; food is food. That’s your household’s motto.

“The food is served, my princess!” Izuku’s adorable face appears in front of you; he bows low and makes that arm movement the butlers do in those dramas in the TV. The whole scene would be quite funny if he wouldn’t be wearing one single underwear and nothing else.

Let’s just say it’s hard to laugh when you are too focused on… well… the curves. The shapes. The godly body. Those massive fucking legs which could crush your head like a watermelon without even flinching…

“The food is indeed served.” You mutter under your nose, loudly by accident and Izuku starts to laugh, tears prickling his eyes as he holds his tummy, probably trying not to throw up once again.

“Oh… my… god… Sweets… I didn’t see that coming.”

“Me neither!” You yell as you pass by your stupidly attractive boyfriend, completely avoiding eye contact because there is no way you can look at him right now with how embarrassed you are. “Put on a fucking shirt!”

Izuku laughs some more but obliges at the end.

Thank fuck.

~•🥦•~

“If you changed your mind, that’s okay.” Izuku caresses your face as you two stand in the bathroom, still clothed. You are quite sure your face is the color of Eijirou’s hair right now. Your limbs are shaking like a leaf and you feel so much anxiety you could cry. It’s stupid, really; it’s not like it’s your first time to be naked in front of somebody, yet it really does feel like it is; Izuku is not like the others, he’ll actually look at you, look at your curves and the tiny little flaws and he’ll remember everything until the day he dies, cherish them like they are something special, because that’s who Midoriya Izuku is; the most caring, most loving partner the world has ever seen.

“I want this.” You declare confidently. “Yes.” You nod to yourself with a tiny pout on your face.

“Yes.” Izuku parrots, making the same, tiny pout then he gives you a smile that makes your insides melt right away. “You are so cute, Sweets. I love you so much.”

“Shut up and get naked!” You yell with a red face. He’s too much. This is too much. He’s too perfect. You can’t even take his teasing seriously with how much love you see in his eyes as he does it.

“Hey, you are not the only one freaking out here!” Izuku yelps awkwardly. “Turn around… please?”

His wavering voice make you look up to his face; he’s flushed and trembly as he slowly takes his shirt off, the movement full of hesitation. You really feel the urge to mention how only an hour ago, he wasn’t this shy about stripping in front of you, but you keep your thoughts to yourself.

“You can also change your mind, you know.” You finally turn around to give him some privacy.

“I’ve been waiting for this ages. There is no way in hell I’ll back out of this just because of my stupid anxiety.” Izuku grumbles, more to himself than to you. “You’ve seen me naked before. You’ve seen my scars. You know all my secrets. I have no reason for me to feel so ashamed of myself. It’s all in my head… I know I’m not ugly. That’s a lie, fuck… I know… I know you think I’m… okay. I know you won’t mind… me looking like this. Most and foremost, I know you love me for who I am and not for how I look like…” he mumbles and mumbles, not realizing you managed to get out of your clothes by the time he managed to get to his underwear. Your eyes are filled with tears from his words, you want to slap him in the face for hating himself like that and kiss him senseless out of pride for finally realizing it’s all in his head.

With that said…

“Izuku, look at me.” You appear behind your boyfriend, probably standing way too close for it to be appropriate, but you don’t care right now.

Izuku bumps right into you when he turns around; a tiny yelp leaves his mouth as your breasts bounce on his chest. “If I ever hear you calling yourself ugly I’ll pull out every single one of your leg hairs with a tweezer, one buy one, in the most painful way possible. Now turn around, finish what you are doing and see you in the shower.”

“That’s weirdly… evil.” Izuku snickers but by the look of it, you plan worked because he looks much less anxious now. You quickly go inside the shower cubicle to hide, not giving the man too much time to check you out… yet.

You can hear some rustling from outside then Izuku takes a few deep breaths and steps inside the now foggy shower and… you forget how to breathe.

Izuku looks gorgeous on a normal day, but this… is downright sinful. Izuku is stocky but not in the wrong way; you knew that already but with his underwear now gone, you can see how perfect the proportion is. He’s perfect. His shoulders are massive, but he has a nice curve to his body and there is a tiny trail of green hair leading towards his perfectly trimmed intimate area, also pine green just like his hair… then… that’s… a monster between his legs. Yup. You slowly look up and to the side to calm yourself down because that sight went straight into your core and this shower doesn’t feel that innocent anymore.

“Sweets, I… I’ll have problems down there if you keep looking this pretty, just giving you a heads up.” Izuku whines with a high pitched voice. By the time you wake up from your daze he already turned his back to you (you try your best not to stare at that gorgeous fucking ass, because hell, that thing looks like it was carved by a horny but extremely talented sculptor), probably ashamed of himself for feeling this way. You can’t help but speak up.

“If I would… have the same thing between my legs, I would have the same problem.” You admit sheepishly.

“Why are we so awkward about the stupidest things?” Izuku giggles. You want to pinch him. (His ass. You want to pinch his ass. That’s what you want to do you cheeky sod.)

“I don’t mind. I think it’s really… us, that we act this way. I wouldn’t have this any other way.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Say that again and I’ll forcefully kiss you.”

“Hm. That doesn’t sound that bad.”

“IZUKU!“ you yell into the small space as you hide your face in your palms like that helps anything. Your forehead ends up on Izuku’s back and he yelps helplessly; you don’t need to see his face to know he’s red all over because even the back of his neck is the color of a lobster.

“Okay, I’m done with this awkwardness.” Izuku takes a deep breath and the next moment, your back hits the wall. You can’t help, but whimper. “Sweets, you are the most perfect human being I’ve ever seen and I’ve been waiting for this moment for ages, so I’m sorry for… uhm… being a little bit too excited right now but I really want to wash your back if you… uhm…” Izuku stops in the middle of the sentence as he’s incapable to continue thanks to your mouth being on his.

You can’t help it. Just… can’t. Your body moved on its own.

Izuku is irresistible. His gorgeous muscles, the veins on his arms, the softness of his wet skin, topped up with his kind words and pretty freckles is just too much after all this time; you wanted to touch him for so long, you wanted to feel him for months which honestly, feels like decades at this point… it feels like the love is about to burst out of your chest but there are no words strong enough to satiate your soul, to make it clear enough for the other the understand the depth of your feelings and your body is not listening to you anymore; the desire has festered into something unstoppable, it clouded your mind completely until there were no thoughts there just Izuku himself, freckled cheeks and pine green hair, the broccoli…

Wait.

“If this is your way to make this less awkward… it works.” Izuku kisses you back with a newly found vehemence, scorching hot yet so careful, but you don’t kiss back anymore… you push the man away like he just burned you, because… “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“I forgot!”

“What?”

“How did I forget about it?” You whimper, completely ashamed of yourself. “I can’t believe I was so astonished by your… uhm… that I forgot to check it out! I’m the worst!”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, is the water too hot?” Izuku blinks at you, completely lost.

“The broccoli! I forgot about your broccoli! I can’t believe this!”

Izuku… bursts out laughing. He’s folded in half, his forehead basically cushioned by your boobs, shaking like a leaf from guffawing too hard.

“You pushed me away in the middle of a heavy, naked make-out session because you wanted to see my tattoo?” He looks into your eyes with an incredulous, but fond gaze.

“It’s important to me!” You mutter under your nose and Izuku doesn’t even answer you anymore; he just moves away and pushes his hip out, showing off his tiny, adorable broccoli tattoo sitting on his hipbone. You can’t stop your fingers from reaching out, caressing the colored skin with nothing but wonder in your eyes. “It’s so cute.”

Your boyfriend looks so much leaner than he usually does - you realize as you caress his strong hipbone, your fingers cheekily running over the dip by his waist.

Damn, you’ll never ever get over his thighs. Every time you look at them you remember his photoshoot with Mirko, the one that made Izuku a fashion icon, a genderless beauty because hell, Izuku is as manly as they get but… that man in Mirko’s costume kinda made you question your own sexuality.

Maybe you are just Izuku-sexual. He could be a man, a woman, someone between the two, hell, a fucking midget and you would still be attracted to him.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N.” Izuku sighs, right next to your ears. The fire burns even stronger inside you. The feeling only gets worse when his hand travels from your waist to the side of your breast, his thumb cheekily caressing the plump, soft skin. You make the mistake of looking down out of pure embarrassment just to be face to face with the proof of how much Izuku likes what he sees.

You can’t see it, but you can feel him staring at you; you look up and you are met with two heavily lidded eyes taking in the sight from the top of your head down to your feet, over and over. There is a new shine to them now, hot and scorching and you completely melt under that loving gaze; he takes that as a permission to take it further and starts peppering kisses all over your wet neck. You can’t help but move your hand into his soft, dripping curls; you clench your hand around the strands and Izuku makes a sinful sound which goes right into your center and the next few minutes are kinda a blur; things fall from the small shelving system inside the cubicle, someone slips, someone bites, someone moans, there is a constant pressure by your belly, something hard, but also soft to the touch, there are hands on your chest, on your back, on your thighs, everywhere, really.

Your whole body is on fire and so is his; the water is way too cold, but even that can not ruin the moment you two are having.

There are no thoughts in your head, just him. Izuku Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku. Calloused fingers and the feeling of scars under your hands, hard muscle and soft skin, bouncy curls, the scent of Izuku’s shower gel, which somehow decided to appear out of nowhere (he probably took it off the shelf while you were too busy kissing him senseless and actually decided to be useful and clean you up while touching you all over), there is so much going on yet your mind is completely empty.

This is what Izuku does to you on a daily basis. He comes close and you forget who you are.

The scent of Izuku’s shower gel only sends thrill down your spine; the knowledge that for the next few hours you’ll smell like him, taste like him just ignites your body once again, the flames even stronger than before, you can’t help but touch him, first just his arms, then the tattoo on his side, the back of his neck, his collarbone, then the soft hair right on top of his member. You didn’t touch him properly but a wanton moan leaves Izuku’s mouth right as your fingers start to caress the hair down there then suddenly, Izuku gently slaps your hand away from that area.

You don’t have time to freak out about “going too far”; the next moment your back hits the wall once again, your legs somehow make their way around the man’s extremely attractive waist then he slowly moves you lower and lower until you feel something soft but sturdy right between your folds, just like the last time you two enjoyed each other’s company in the hot tub.

“Tell me to stop.” Izuku whimpers right into your ears then ends his sentence by biting down on your ear. His whole body shakes from the restraint, his palms are aggressively gripping your side and the back of your neck; Izuku is doing his fucking best to not move his hips forward, to not let him feel the pleasure of the friction because once it’s done, there is no way back for him; there is a limit to his restraint, there is a limit to how much of this can Izuku take without losing his goddamn mind…

You tear Izuku’s walls down with one single movement, with just a tiny little friction and you both moan in tandem as the pleasure creates goosebumps on your skin, but maybe, it’s just the cold water coming from the shower head; it doesn’t matter though because your answer is loud and clear and that’s all it takes for Izuku to turn off the shower with one hand and manhandle you into a towel-burrito before he takes you to the bedroom like a princess, his teeth clattering from the cold.

You should feel shy and embarrassed. You should be freaking out when Izuku drops you down on the bed and towers over you with your boobs halfway out of your towel.

You don’t feel any of that. Neither is he.

It just feels… normal. Exciting.

“Finally…” Izuku giggles with excitement sparkling in his gorgeous eyes. He pulls the cover on top of you both and takes a few deep breaths to stop the shaking of his body; he waits a few minutes in silence, just staring at your chest and face, remembering it all while your bodies get warmer under the cover and the goosebumps are finally gone. You trace the old scars on his chest and his tummy, you give them all the love you possibly can without saying a single word. The silence isn’t awkward… this silence is… precious. It’s like there’s no need for words, no need for verbal communication because everything is written all over your faces, it’s in every single caress, every single kiss, every single sigh that leaves your mouths as you touch each other in new places. Your hand can’t get away from that perfectly trimmed bush on top of Izuku’s member so you find yourself there once again, just caressing the prickly skin, enjoying the way it feels under your fingertips.

The mood is calmer now, more mature but still full of those flames from before; it’s a weird, conflicting combination but it somehow works for you two. “Sweet pea.” Izuku whimpers while his free hand fondles your boob. You can’t help but moan into the air between you two as his thumps finds your bud and starts fiddling with it. “Can I show you how much I love you?” All you can do is nod weakly, your eyes full of tears. No one ever treated you like this, like you are a goddess who deserves to be worshipped, like every caress is a gift, like your body is something worth cherishing and you feel so loved already you kinda want to tell him to not even bother anymore, but you don’t have the heart to do that after looking into his half-lidded, excited eyes.

“Please.” You smile at your boyfriend happily. He bumps your foreheads together for a few seconds and smiles right back; this moment is special, it feels like there is a red string connecting you two together, the one that’s indestructible and infinite; the strings of faith are almost visible now as Izuku leans down to connect your chests, but maybe you are just too delirious and too aroused to be able to distinguish delusion from reality.

Izuku seals the deal with the hottest kiss known to mankind and you are halfway to your orgasm already and he haven’t even touched you yet.

“Plus Ultra!” Izuku gives you one last smile before he dives under the covers, right between your legs and you scream his name as you come in less than 3 minutes. Three. Fucking. Minutes.

He just… went in and… oh my god. Midoriya Izuku, goddamn Pro Hero Deku just… he’s… really talented with his tongue. Let’s just leave it at that.

You need 5 to 7 days to get over the fact that you just received the best oral you’ve ever had and it was from your favorite pro Hero who you are ridiculously in love with.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done.” You can feel Izuku’s smile on the inside of your thighs as he starts peppering kisses all over the area. It’s so loving and so careful, so slow yet so passionate… you can’t help but feel the arousal wake up inside you once again. “I really love your legs. I always wanted to kiss them. They are so soft and your thighs are so… ahh, I wanna sleep on them. They are better than the best memory foam pillow on the market. You also taste really nice. I think I’m becoming addicted.” Izuku goes back to the “treasure” and leaves tiny kisses all over your folds, teasing the most sensitive parts with his tongue to steal another taste. You can’t help but whimper; it’s extremely sensitive now but the touch is light enough to be pleasurable even in this state.

“I also love your tummy. Having a six pack is great, but I really enjoy soft and cute things.” Izuku adds with an obsessed tone which makes you blush like a virgin. “You are the softest and cutest of them all. I love you.” Izuku leaves a trail of kisses all over your tummy until he reaches your chest; he pops your bud into his mouth and does something with his tongue that makes you see stars; it almost feels like swirling water, soft and languid. It’s extremely hard to describe the feeling without comparing Izuku’s tongue to a tentacle, which, let’s be honest, would make this fanfiction so much dirtier than it really is.

“I’m not even going to try and give these two a justice with my words.” Is all Izuku says before he takes your other bud into his mouth to give it some love. If you think this can’t get more hot, you are wrong; Izuku starts to nibble your chest gently, sucking on the soft skin without leaving a mark, his eyes downright manic as he makes sure there isn’t a single millimeter left unloved.

Needless to say, you guys will need to change the sheets after this because well… you are soaking wet. Again.

You try your best to hide this information from your boyfriend for now because while Izuku is a man on a mission, you also have your own plans and knowing how much Izuku enjoys giving, he wouldn’t let you do anything today until your “situation” is “sorted.”

“Izu-Izu.” You rake your fingers through Izuku’s hair, clenching your fist on the top of his head just to hear him moan once again. And again. And again. Hell, Izuku has the most sinful moan, high pitched and weirdly feminine; he always tries to stop himself in the middle of the sound and the way his voice falters and breaks, then goes so high in the last one second… just makes your “situation” even worse. “Let me love you too, goddamnit!” You whine and moan at the same time. Izuku stops with his shenanigans for one second and that’s all you need to finally manage to roll him over and end up in his lap. You are not going to lie, it took all of your strength to be able to do that and you are panting a little bit but it was all worth it for the sight; he is blushing like crazy and he looks so lost now that he’s not in charge. You don’t even try to stop yourself from kissing him senseless, it’s physically impossible to do so.

“I feel like I’m going to explode.” You admit between two kisses. “Fucking hell, Izuku, are you even human? Is this another quirk of yours? Are you a lust demon? How can you do stuff like that with this adorable, innocent face? How?” You complain, while Izuku giggles. “Don’t fucking giggle, I’m serious!”

“I think I have a thing for being manhandled. I’m also about to explode.” He admits sheepishly with his hand wondering down to your bottom cheekily. You take a deep breath and move down to his belly, not letting him touch your private parts because it’s your turn now to love him endlessly and you want to do it without any distractions.

“Good. Suffer with me.” You retort cheekily and Izuku giggles once more. “You have so many freckles on your chest and tummy, I love it so much. I love your freckles, have I ever told you that?” You mumble as you kiss Izuku’s hard abs. His hands wander into your hair the same way yours did and you can kinda understand why is Izuku so hot and bothered when you do that to him.

“No, you didn’t.” Izuku chokes on air.

“Well, now you know.” You answer simply. “You have the body of a god, but I like your face the most. And your hair. And how some of your scars are softer to touch than your normal skin. I love the texture. Like this one.” Your hand moves up to Izuku’s pecks, caressing the massive scar on the side of his left breast. “You are so handsome but nothing is as pretty as your soul. Izuku, you look perfect from the outside but compared to you as a person, it’s fucking nothing. If I would have a quirk I would want to be able to go inside your soul… just so I can kiss it senseless.” You make no sense. You are aware of it. No need to comment on it. How the fuck are you supposed to stay coherent in this situation?! It doesn’t feel real. It’s too fucking good to be real.

A tiny sob cuts through the tension and you emerge from the covers to look into your boyfriend’s eyes. Of course, he’s crying. “You are such a crybaby.” You smile down at him with nothing but fondness. “My little crybaby. I love you so much.” You leave a tiny kiss on his mouth.

“No one… ever… made me feel like this.” Izuku admits between two sobs. “Like I’m the best thing in the whole world. No one ever managed to actually make me believe them, but you… you make it sound like it’s possible that I’m not… a failure. I feel so loved I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Enjoy it. You deserve it. You are the best thing, at least for me.” You leave tiny kisses on your boyfriend’s neck to divert his attention.

“And you are the best thing, for me.” He retorts with a sigh. “I want to build a shrine to you and pray for your well-being every day. I want to do this every day… I want to eat and drink YOU, I want to become YOU… I want us to become one and stay like that forever, because I’m the best thing only because you are next to me. Fuck, that doesn’t make any sense and it sounded so much cooler in my head…” Izuku mutters shyly, looking at the wall due to his embarrassment.

“Let’s become one, then. We can’t stay like that forever, but… I want… uhm…” you mumble with a red face as you move one of your hands under the covers to caress his painfully hard member with one finger. Izuku almost chokes on his saliva just from this one touch. It fills you with pride.

You absolutely enjoy the way Izuku is writhing under you, his face contorted by the pleasure while your hand moves on his member up and down, slow but steady. He doesn’t let you enjoy the game for too long; one second you are in charge then the next your back hits the soft bed once again and Izuku’s finger finds his way to his folds, slowly easing the first finger inside, followed by the second almost immediately.

“Sweets… you really like me this much?” Izuku moves his fingers around your folds to feel the wetness around the area. You can’t help but look away shyly, completely embarrassed from being so excited. Your plan failed. Goddamnit.

“Sorry…”

“What? No! Don’t be!” Izuku freaks out for a split second. “I’m just… really happy. I loose my confidence in bed really quickly but you make it so easy for me. Your whole body speaks to me, it tells me it’s okay, that this is good for you and I’m so thankful.” Izuku slowly eases the third finger in; a quiet whimper leaves your mouth as he starts scissoring inside to make this as easy for you as possible. “I’ll make sure to thank you by being the best partner now and forever. Sweets… Y/N… can I…”

“Fucks sake, Izu, yes. You can do whatever you want. I’m yours and you are mine. That’s all I need to know.”

“Okay.” Izuku nods, clearly spiraling a little bit. “Yeah, uhm, I’m gonna get the… stuff. Just stay here.”

“Damn, I was about to run out for some coffee.” You add jokingly, but Izuku is on a mission and he can’t understand sarcasm…

“I’ll get you some coffee from the kitchen, then!”

You start laughing like a maniac.

“Oh my god, I was joking, you silly. Hurry up!”

“Oh… I’m an idiot.” Izuku takes the box of condoms out of his backpack. You will make sure to ask him later about the fact that he had some with him… Cheeky little fuck.

You also try your best to not stare at that perfect butt. Damn, you are eating well today!

He has a few stretch marks on his back, but it’s only visible when you look really closely; which you do because you can’t help yourself, even though you literally just said that you won’t.

“Yeah, but you are my idiot. Now get back here and love me.” You continue to stare at that perfect peach, but Izuku turns around and you look away swiftly because the front is just as delicious as the back and you honestly don’t think you can take more of this right now. It’s quite comical how the color of his broccoli tattoo is the same as his hair down there; its a little bit sad how you’ll never be able to boast on your “Deku lovers” group chat about it. They would probably laugh in your face anyway, thinking you are a liar because there is no way the perfect pro hero Deku has a silly little broccoli tattoo.

“Okay.” Izuku grins with a flushed face and barges back into the bed, right into your arms.

He starts peppering kisses all over your neck, giggling happily like a schoolboy, then moves back to your face to leave another scorching hot kiss on your mouth while his hand slowly wonders down to your intimate areas to make sure you are ready for the “good stuff.”

It takes all your self-restraint to not come from the sight on top of you; Izuku’s hair is disheveled and he looks so fucking out of it that you would think he’s being touched himself, but your hands are in his hair and you feel no friction anywhere on your body which means he just… enjoys pleasing you so much it makes him look like he’s five seconds from coming. His fingers stop moving and he slowly retracts them, leaving you empty and sad for a split of a second but then he puts the condom package into his mouth and tears it open while keeping eye contact with you the whole time and you swear you see stars. Izuku is just too much. Too hot and too dirty but also so innocent and loving, it just doesn’t make sense, really… but…

“Are you ready, Sweets? Tell me if it hurts, okay? Promise me.” He looks at you worriedly and your heart just melts inside your chest and becomes nothing but a big lump of goo.

“I promise… OH MY GOD.” You almost yell as you feel the first few centimeters inside you. Izuku bites his lips once and takes a few deep breath, not moving, just waiting for you to get used to the sting, to the almost foreign sensation because damn, the man isn’t small and it has been ages you’ve been in this situation with anyone. “I’m fine, I’m fine, keep going, Izu.” You try to reassure him as best as you can. It starts to feel really good down there even though he’s not even halfway in.

He slowly moves further and the sting is back but it’s not as bad as it was before; it really quickly turns into an intoxicatingly amazing sensation that makes your whole body tremble and Izuku drops his face on your chest, his whole body shaking like a leaf.

“Relax or I’ll really embarrass myself. Please. You feel too good. Why didn’t we do this sooner?” He mutters into your breasts and if you wouldn’t be so aroused you would have laughed in his face for being so cute, but…

“You can move. Please. Move.” You stutter as a sudden wave of pleasure hits you just right. Izuku doesn’t say anything just moves back to his original position and slides out a bit and then back again and you are so happy everyone is out and about because you are quite sure the whole neighborhood just heard you moan. “Izu…”

“I think I’m going to cry again, but it’s happy tears.” Izuku admits sheepishly while he starts a slow but steady pace. His moans are quiet and his voice breaks quite frequently but there is something about it that makes you tremble in pleasure; probably the fact that you are the reason he sounds like that, deep but also squeaky, you are the reason his face is flushed from all the bliss… you feel so lucky to be able to experience this, to feel all this love, to be the reason for Izuku’s happy tears; you are so thankful for taking that big leap of faith by moving in with a stranger all those months ago.

“I love… love you. Izu. Izuku.” You stutter as Izuku’s pace picks up and you are absolutely incapable to think from this point; you both moan each other’s name in tandem as you chase your orgasms, Izuku clearly tries his best to keep his focus on you, to listen to where and how it feels the best and slowly but surely that pleasant feeling starts to build up with every thrust Izuku delivers to the right spot; Izuku’s arms start to tremble and it makes you stop for a second; this shaking doesn’t seem to be from the pleasure and Izuku looks a little bit stressed as you look into his eyes so you put your hand on his chest, silently asking for him to stop.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Izuku starts to apologize but you are not having any of that.

“Lay down.” You command kindly. Izuku looks utterly confused for a second but he does it anyway. You don’t give him a single warning before you sit in his lap with your hands perched on his naked, beautifully sculpted chest and slowly ease yourself back down on his length. Izuku’s face contorts in utter pleasure, now that his arms are not hurting anymore and you pat yourself on the back inside your little mind palace for realizing something is wrong even while your mind was clouded by all the new sensations. “Good boy.” You caress Izuku’s muscly chest. Izuku moans loudly and moves his hip upwards, finding that special point once again, even in this new position.

Izuku looks ethereal from this point of view; his hair is splayed out on the white pillow, no curly strand the same as the other, his face is flushed and his eyes are sparkling like a rare gemstone, gaze full of love and lust and by that look on his face, he doesn’t mind this position either; every single movement makes his face scrunch up, his moans becoming hiccups and silent pleas to keep doing what you are doing, just like that, and it barely takes 10 more minutes for you two to feel the coil inside your tummy snap, Izuku doing the same a few more thrusts later.

You’ve never come this hard before. Your body shakes violently and you barely keep yourself up right while Izuku moves his hips up and down really slowly to prolong this amazing feeling, tears prickle your eyes from the pleasure, and once the feeling is gone you collapse on Izuku’s chest; you didn’t realize how much you strained your legs by doing this until you came down from your high, but when it it hit, you couldn’t help but whimper, this time, from the pain.

There are some other parts of your body that feel a tiny bit funny right after you two separate with a whimper, but honestly, you’ve seen that coming.

“I’ve never done this this way.” Izuku admits shyly.

“Never?” You look up at your boyfriend as you slowly move to his side; you need to lay down properly for a second. Everything is spinning.

“No. It was always… me doing everything. I want to do this again. And again. And again.”

“I’ll need to hit the gym then.” You giggle to yourself and seeing your boyfriend’s confused face, he doesn’t really understand the problem. “Izuku, this position… needs a lot of leg muscles. I don’t have any. I’m quite sure I pulled at least one muscle in both of my legs.”

“I’m more than happy to help you with that!” Izuku sits up excitedly. You give him a side eye. “Not like that, you silly! Actual training! And that, too, of course, but only if you want to do it again. I’m okay with anything until it’s you.”

You want to put this man on a plate and eat him. How can he be so sweet?!

“I love you, you weirdo.” You giggle into his hair then you leave a tiny kiss on his neck as a silent thank you.

“I love you too, Sweets. Let’s have a few minutes of rest then let’s go to the onsen.”

“Oh my god, the onsen sounds magical right now.” You sigh, utterly pleased. “Izu?”

“Hm?”

“Are you happy?”

“I’m the happiest fucking freak in the whole wide world, Sweets.” He smiles. “Are you happy?”

“I think I’m high on happiness.” You pant, exhausted.

“Good. Me too.”

… to be continued!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- I can’t believe this finally happened! Honestly, I’m not a big fan of writing these kind of things but even I was excited about this to finally happen because the tension was absolutely ridiculous! 😂 Not gonna lie, I have many other ideas about what this version of Izuku likes but I probably won’t be able to use them as they would be too dirty for this otherwise innocent story. 😂 I love these two so much, they are so perfect for each other!

- I hope you guys are okay. Sorry for not responding to your lovely comments, I read them all and I send you all hugs! I hope I will see you soon but to be honest with you, I don’t think it will be sooner than 4 weeks, maybe more if shit goes south in my life.

- There will be changes to my uploads when I come back, I’ll leave a note for you guys once we get to it. I might need you to answer some questions too, because I have no idea what to do 😂

- Random personal ramble: so funny story about my recent life; I went home to my home country to see my mom and I told her about how much I want an airfryer but I don’t really have space for it nor money to spare. I didn’t know she actually owns one so I got really excited when I saw it! A day after I came back to England there was an Amazon order on my doorstep that I didn’t order. Guys, my mom went on Amazon and bought me an airfryer. I’ve been making cakes and baked apples every day since. Get an air fryer if you can. It’s amazing. Thank you for listening. 😂

Here’s a quick, delish recipe for you: get some apples, cut them in half, get rid of the stem, put a bunch of Nutella in it then sprinkle cinnamon on top (or pour half of the bottle on it like I do. Lol). Bake it for 40 mins on 160C. You are welcome. (You can also use dark chocolate instead of Nutella if you wanna make it healthier. You can also hide a walnut inside. Omnomnom.

- I’ll shut up now. Tell me your thoughts!

TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @themultifandomgirl @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave @alyss-eiz @sleepisfortheweakpooh

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #pro hero deku x you #pro hero deku x reader #deku x fem!reader #deku x y/n #deku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #izuku x y/n

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humdinky · 6 months

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i just finished watching scavenger's reign yesterday, and let me tell y'all this is genuinely the best piece of sci-fi media i have seen in a long while, and it's insane how little i've seen this show being discussed online! it is probably the most unique and viscerally stunning series i’ve ever seen. the world that they have created is equal parts fascinating and terrifying, and every part of it feels fully realized. sci-fi is at its best when it lets go of nostalgia and explores the unknown, and SR gives me hope that real sci-fi can take root again, and be something beyond what came before it.

i will refrain from giving too much away in my discussion because this show works best the less you know going into it. the premise for this show is simple: crewmembers of a crashed freighter ship are left scattered across an alien planet. a good chunk of time has already passed by the time the show begins, and a few of the survivors have already established camps. however, things quickly spiral out of control as disaster wipes away their progress and forces each of them to move on. it's a harsh and unforgiving world that tests them each and every step of the way on their journey.

worldbuilding is where this show truly shines. it is no easy thing to design an entire ecosystem from scratch. it takes an insane amount of creativity and attention to detail to pull off what this show has. and my god did they fucking pull it off. living balloons floating through the air, large sea creatures that suck up their eggs when faced with danger, tendrilled plants that spawn clones of their prey to track them down - it is a frightening, surreal, and violent world, but harmonious in its own way. some creatures poison you, others clean off the poison. there are your typical type of predators that come at you with sharp fangs and giant pincers, but then there are predators that hunt via more insidious means: manipulating the memories of their prey to have them do their bidding, or hijacking their bodies from the inside. ultimately, the characters who fare best in this world are those who learn to adapt to it, and even sync with it.

SR also boasts a surprisingly well-crafted narrative. we are shown just enough of the world to keep us hooked, but it still feels like there is a lot left to be discovered. i also really enjoy the way the story is delivered to us. we follow the journeys of a few isolated groups whose paths gradually intersect. the characters are all fleshed out and three-dimensional - they were different enough to be unique and quirky, but never too different that it felt overboard. the way they react is exactly how humans in those circumstances would and should, the dialogue and voice acting were just superb. it felt so insanely real at times.

i really do hope that this show gets greenlit for a second season. this type of pure creative freedom is what we need right now. all in all, scavenger's reign is a gorgeous nightmare that you need to experience for yourself.

#scavengers reign #sr #review #recommendation #movie review #movie recommendation #show review #show recommendations #animation #scifi #science fiction #xenobiology #alien

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babyyblues · 1 year

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Back Together

prompt 25: "How'd you survive this long on your own?"

Era: Prison (Mid-season 3) no spoilers,

Summary: When you're searching for food, you were threatened by two strangers, but who knew that these strangers would lead you to your family. || sister!reader x daryl

Word Count: 1,847

warnings: hunting, threatening, weapons (just twd things) heavy dialogue (sorryyy)

a/n: umm can you guys tell that I love the prison era?? I'll try to switch it up for my next fic, promise. anyways, enjoy some uncle!daryl, let me know if you want more! feedback is greatly appreciated.

Silence rang in your ears, you closed your eyes tightly honing in on the repeating of your brother's voice. “Focus on the target. Take your aim. Don’t be nervous, take a breath. Okay good now shoot.” A shot rang out, your vision blurring as the rumble in your stomach intensified.

“Fuck,” you growled, watching as your hunt ran away, startled by the sudden noise and movement around it. Your energy was completely diminished, and honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you ate or even had a clean drink of water. Letting your eyes drop and your head fall back, you sniffled, willing the tears to stay in, praying to a god that you didn’t even believe in that this damned world would give you some kind of break. Shaking off the failure and wiping the wetness off your cheeks, you began a new search; at this point, berries would have to do, you needed something to keep going, something for her.

The leaves rustled around you followed by a loud snap of a branch. Stopping in your tracks, your vision darted around, your grip tightening on the weapon, your knuckles turning white.

“Put the gun down, now.” A low voice growled, the hammer of a gun clicking dangerously close to your ears. The metal against your skull sent shivers down your spine as you swallowed your pride, dropping the gun to the floor.

“Now let me see your hands and turn around.” You did as told, your mind racing as your eyes shot around, trying your best to think of plan. Think of a way out.

“How many of there are you?” the man asked. You looked him up and down, studying the tattered light brown button-up and dark-colored denim that adorned his body. Looking back up at his face, his bright blue eyes pierced into yours, the dirt and stubble scattered on his chin.

“I won’t ask you again. How many of you are there?” Your jaw tensed, teeth clenching as his grip tightened around the gun.

“Don’t have nothin’ you want. Jus’ let me go.” Before he could speak again, the branches next to him moved.

“Rick wait,” a voice called, another man appearing in front of you, your daughter in their arms. Panic filled your eyes, your heartbeat increasing as he held his arms tightly around the young girl.

“Get off of her! Jus’ leave us alone!” you demanded, taking a step toward the young Asian man.

“Take one more step and I will not hesitate to pull the trigger.” Presumably, Rick threatened.

“Rick,” Glenn spat, setting your five-year-old on the ground and letting her run up to you.

“Mommy,” she whimpered, You shushed her slightly, before picking her up and holding her tightly in your arms as she tucked her head into your neck. You felt her tears wet your neck as you looked back up at the men.

“‘S just us. Now jus’ let us go, we were jus’ tryna to find somethin’ to eat.”

Rick took a breath, lowering his gun before glancing over at the other man.

“How many walkers have you killed?” he asked, placing in gun back in his holster. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked him over.

“Just answer the question,” the other man told you, before grounding down to dig through his back. You swallowed harshly, clearing your throat.

“Dozens.”

“How many people have you killed?” Your breath faltered and your chest flared with anger as a flashback ran through your brain.

“Two,” you spat out, your teeth involuntarily gritting.

“Why?”

“Tried to kill me ‘n take my daughter,” you answered quickly, shaking your head to keep the memories away, squeezing your daughter a bit tighter. Rick took another look over his shoulder before nodding towards the little one in your arms.

“Where’s her daddy?”

“Dead hopefully. Wasn’t no good in the first place.”

Rick nodded his jaw clenching and unclenching as he watched his companion hand you a slightly crunched-up granola bar. Looking at it for a second, Glenn nodded, pushing it toward you. You took it not hesitating to rip open the packaging and take a small bite to ensure its safety before whispering quietly to your daughter that you had something for her to eat. The men watched as you handed her a small piece and she gobbled it down, quickly moving on to the rest of the bar. Rick leaned over to grab your gun, turning it over to hand it back to you. Thanking him with a nod, you placed it back in your holster before gathering yourself to walk back into the unknown. Rick cleared his throat, however, before you could even take a step.

“We uh, we have a camp nearby, food, water, walls. It’s safe. Your daughter would be safe.” Rick said. You stayed silent, turning back around to look at them.

“Why should I trust ya?”

“If you didn’t, you would’ve killed us with that gun you have in your boot,” the Asian kid pointed out. Taking a deep breath and letting the silence linger, you watched as your daughter finished chewing the granola bar. “It’s all fer her now, ya know that right? Ya gotta give that kid a good life, better than what we had.” You hesitated but nodded nonetheless.

“Alright. Yeah, alright.”

“Good, just know we do expect you to earn your keep. Now come on, just about half a mile from here.” You nodded, beginning to follow them, readjusting the young one on your hip.

“Names Glenn by the way, Glenn Rhee, and that's Rick Grimes,” Glenn offered, his hand outstretched to be shaken.

“Y/n, Y/n Dixon and this is Hope,” you replied, reaching your hand out only for both of them to stop in their tracks.

“What did you say?”

“Uh, my name?”

“No, what’d you say your last name was?”

“Dixon?”

“Huh, that makes a lot of sense,” Glenn interrupted.

“What are ya on about?” you scowled taking a step back.

“Come on, Dixon, I think camp might be closer to home than you think.” Your face wrinkled in confusion, listening to the way your name rolled off his tongue with familiarity. You let them lead you, fear filling your chest as if you had fallen right into their trap. “Don’t you trust nobody, all you got is you and me and Merle when he’s around. Keep your guard up- always.” You swallowed, reaching for the gun swiftly and cocking the hammer back.

“What’s gon’ on? This some kind of trap?” you barked, waving the gun between the two as Rick raised his gun in your direction. Glenn looked at Rick, pushing his weapon down and placing his hands up.

“Woah, hey no! We swear.”

“That doesn’t mean nothin’ these days. Now ya tell me or I attract every dead one for miles around and send ‘em straight to your camp,” you threatened.

“Daryl. Daryl Dixon.” Glenn knew immediately he had struck a cord, seeing the way the anger melted from your face and your eyes began to gloss over as your muscles weakened.

“Is he- He’s-,” you stumbled.

“He’s alive. He’s with our group.” You let the tears flow, holding Hope even tighter as you holstered your gun, quickly beginning to jog in the direction they had been leading you.

“Y/n wait!” Glenn called quietly, “Rick come on.” They jogged behind you, not stopping until the large prison appeared. You slowed, waiting for the men to catch up as they whistled and the gates opened. You followed them, your head shooting around taking in your surroundings, searching. Hope wiggled in your arms, uncomfortable with the sudden movements.

“Daryl!” Rick called to the man that was hunched over his bike. You watched with teary eyes and quickened breath as he looked up at you, recognition flashing over his features. Your chest heaved, a wobbly smile spreading on your lips as your legs moved quickly toward the man, toward your brother. You didn’t stop until your chests collided, Hope whining as she was momentarily smushed between you two. Hands shaking, you let her down, returning your arms around Daryl’s torso.

“I thought I’d never see ya again,” you whispered, gripping his shirt and making sure it was real. His hand found the back of your head, supporting you as your face buried into his chest.

“I-I looked for ya, every day, and when I couldn’t find ya I-”

“Ya did what you had to do. It’s okay. Merle? Is Merle okay?” You felt him stiffen, a sharp pain aching through your heart as you held back a sob.

He reluctantly broke apart, a wet smile on his lips as he crouched down to be eye level with Hope.

“Hey sweetheart, member me?” She nodded meeking, sucking her thumb anxiously.

“Yer hair ‘s messy,” she spoke quietly, reaching her hand toward the undoubtedly longer locks. Daryl couldn’t stop the wet chuckle that escaped his lips, closely followed by the tears pricking at his eyes. He reached his arms out pinching her sides, a high pitched giggle escaping from her lips before being swopped up by the man in front of her.

“Missed ya sunshine,” he sighed, holding her close, “now let’s get you guys somethin’ to eat, yer mom looks like she’s about to fall over.”

You sat inside, taking in the cold concrete walls around you, waiting for Daryl to return with both your daughter and hopefully some form of protein.

“Here, just caught it this morning,” Daryl hummed, setting a bowl in front of you full of some kind of meat. At this point you didn’t care, pain stabbing through your body from hunger. You looked up, making sure Hope had something as well before digging in. Daryl aided Hope in using her fork, something you couldn’t recall her ever using before. A comfortable silence lulled in the air, Daryl mumbling every so often to Hope as she finished her plate.

“Daryl?” he hummed in response looking back up at you.

“You trust these people?” you asked sinceriously. He nodded, readjusting Hope as she let out a yawn.

“I do, yeah.” You nodded, shoveling the last bite in your mouth.

“Okay, I trust you.”

“You uh- you been alone this whole time?” he asked reluctantly, guilt creeping in. You answered with a nod.

“How’d you survive this long on your own?”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m a Dixon. Ain’t nothin’ different than livin’ with dad,” you scoffed, doing what you did best, hiding your fear and any sign of emotion.

“Y/n-” he sighed.

“You and M-merle went camping, and the radios started goin’ crazy. I tried to find you both, but things got- it was bad Daryl. I did what I had to do. Fer her,” you nodded towards the resting child.

“Want me to take her?”

“No- no. Jus’ a bit longer,” he swallowed. You nodded, sucking in a deep breath as tears filled your eyes yet again.

“We’re gonna be alright, ya know?” he whispered, placing his hand ontop of yours.

“Yeah- yeah we are.”

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theosphobia · 2 months

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Hello rvbblr, rvb tumblr, the 3 people always liking my posts.

I bring my first ever fanfiction. and its rvb. idk how ao3 works so im just gonna drop it in here and hope thats accceptable.... erm... anyways

Everyone got seperated; the reds and blues were scattered in a pirate stronghold. Their long range comms were down and pirates lurked around every corner trying to hunt the sim troopers down.

Washington had just survived a scuffle, breaking into a run as he heard familiar shouting not too far off. Just around a couple shipping containers, Wash found Caboose standing over a pirate, Freckles' barrel smoking from fresh fire.

The blue caught the solider in the side of his vision and raised the ai-assisted rifle towards him, confetti dispersed from the gun.

"Friendly Signature Detected."

"Agent Washington! Uhm, he was like that when I got here."

Wash pushed the thought of Caboose firing at him away, he was just glad to see a friendly face.

"Caboose! Have you seen anyone else?" Wash asked, jogging up to the larger character.

Caboose looked back down at the pirate he was resting his foot on,

"On our team Caboose."

"Oh! No." Caboose shook his head and moved away from the body, sizing up to Wash.

"Are you doing okay? You hurt anywhere?" Wash started to walk and the other followed closely.

"I'm a little stressed out... and hungry.." he started. "We should find Griff next!"

Wash chuckled and patted Caboose on the back, "Hey Freckles?" The gun chimed in response, "can you find any other friendly contacts?"

"Nearest Friendly Tag is 356m away. Identification: Lavernius Tucker."

"Awesome, Can you guide us to him?" Wash asked. The custom laser sight on the rifle turned on and pointed forward. Caboose stared curiously, turning the gun from side to side, the line remained aimed toward its original path. Caboose gave a coo of amazement.

"Lets get going, the sooner we find the others the better."

Wash and Caboose followed Freckles' guide until they hit a large pond in the cave; they could see the remainder of the pirate stronghold on the otherside, but the water seemed to stretch to the walls, and they couldn't see the bottom. The laser ran true straight across the water.

Washington stopped for a moment to think while Caboose took a couple steps into the pond.

"I saw something over here! It might be those sim troopers!"

A voiced called from not too far away. Wash cursed to himself, a group of red dots were moving towards them on his motion tracker.

"Maybe they know how we can get across!" Caboose cheered, turning around towards the noise and started walking. Wash caught him by the arm,

"Caboose no they're trying to kill us remember?"

"Oh yeah.."

"There's no time, we're just gonna have to go through it." Wash sighed, leading the blue giant back towards the water and stepping in.

"Uhm I can't swim very well.." Caboose started, standing a bit back from Wash.

"We're not swimming, our suits will recycle air for a while, we should just be able to walk along the bottom." Washington informed him. The other man didn't argue, stashed Freckles, and followed along, both of the started to move as fast as they could in half-ton armour in water as the shouting grew louder.

They were fully submerged for a while before Wash started to notice something wrong, he was wet.

"Uh 'boose.... buddy, not to scare you or anything but I think my armour is filling up with water." Wash could feel a cut in his kevlar around his neck. He must have gotten it in that fight earlier.

"Wuh oh.." Caboose had stopped and turned to look at Wash, somehow he had managed to be moving faster than the freelancer. "Should we go back?" There was a tinge of panic in his voice.

"We can't... we just have to move faster, it can't be that much farther now" He tried holding his hand to seal the hole but water still managed to seep through his fingers, the water was hitting his waist now.

Caboose nodded and reached back, grabbing Wash's free hand, and started pulling him along so their treck sped up.

At some point, the weight behind him stalled.

"Agent Washington?"

"It's in my helmet."

Wash couldn't see, but Caboose's eyes widened. He moved closer to Washington,

"Freckles uhm.. how much further?" The blue asked as he began picking up Wash and slinging him over his shoulder without protest.

"Nearest Friendly Tag is 189m away"

Panic was rising in his voice, "okay thank you Freckles!" His speed was considerably lessened with the extra weight but that didn't stop Caboose from making his strides as quick as possible.

Wash had stopped responding about halfway from their predictament. Caboose didn't stop moving until they breached the shore on the other side.

Caboose laid Washington on the ground and unholstered Freckles, laying it behind them.

"Freckles you lookout for bad guys."

"Affirmative."

Oh crap oh crap oh crap... Caboose's hands shook as his fingers fumbled with the clasps on Wash's helmet and chestplate.

Water poured out as the seals broke, Wash's hair clung to his forehead. His chest laid still.

What do I do what do I do?? Think Michael think!! Caboose tried to remember what Doc had taught them ages ago. CPR CPR...

"First check to see if they're breathing! If they're not then you'll probably have to perform CPR. Since Grif already knows how to do it he'll be my demonstration."

Caboose glanced at the still freelancer, his chest was still, their chest moves when they breath right?

"Remember, you guys are wearing half-ton armour so you won't have to compress as hard as you would if you weren't. You should press down twice per second, there's songs that help but Beyoncé is timeless so we're gonna use Crazy In Love." Caboose positioned himself above Wash, tried to remember the correct hand shape, and hovered above the freelancer's chest. What if I mess up I don't want to kill Wash he's not special like Church is... he won't come back..

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. He started compressing, finding it easier to just count than remember Doc's silly song.

"Every 30 or so compressions try and give rescue breaths! Tilt their head back a little while pinching their nose to open their airway. Then you're gonna blow into their mouth a normal amount just enough so their chest rises; do that twice. If it doesn't rise make sure they don't have anything stuck in their throat. Grif is that gum I see in there?"

Caboose quickly brought his face to Wash's, blood splattered across his visor.

"Haha whoops sorry Washington!" He brought his hands back to unclasp his own helmet and set it to the side; turning back to brush away some of the bloody nose with his hand.

Caboose lingered slightly, he could feel the air around them now, he could also feel the lack of air coming from Wash's mouth. He cradled the back of Wash's neck in his hand, pinched his nose with the other and started his rescue breaths.

He fell into autopilot, repeating the steps in his mind over and over as he did them until a sharp breath came from Washington, as did a mouthful of cave pond water.

Caboose helped him sit up as Wash coughed up his missing breaths; his gaze fixated on the older man's movement.

"Caboose?" The blue's eyes bore into Wash, he seemed terrified. The feeling broke at the sound of his name however.

"Agent Washington you're okay! You should avoid drinking pond water, I don't think it's good for you." There was smeared blood on Caboose's face, Wash dipped his hand into the water and rubbed it against the stain.

"How'd you get blood on you 'Boose? Where's your helmet?" The other blue wore his helmet so often it was rare to see his face, his hair had gotten a bit longer and Wash could see wearing smile lines from his angle.

"Oh uhm! So when we got out of the water you weren't breathing so I tried to give you Cee Pee Arr but I forgot to take my helmet off! So now you have a bloody nose and you shared it with me when I gave you rescuing breaths!" He smiled, reaching beside him to grab his helm and snapped it back on, his second face returned.

Wash rubbed the back of his hand against his face, his helmet was off as well, and his own blood smeared against the glove.

"Holy shit you saved my life Caboose."

"I did?" His head tilted and he perked up again."I did! Oh my god does that mean my team kills go down? Because I saved you?"

Wash chuckled, clasping his breastplate back on and grabbing his helmet.

"Sure it does."

"Oh! You should probably cover that hole in case we have to go swimming again, Church always packed some for me..." Caboose dug around in his utility belt and procured a large patch used for underarmour sealing; he handed it to Wash and watched as the freelancer slapped it against his neck and rubbed it down.

"Geez thanks Caboose, you're really on it today." Wash said as brushed his hair back and locked his helm back in place.

Caboose wiggled from his seated position, paused, and grabbed Freckles before firing behind him.

Confetti dispersed from the rifle.

"Friendly Signature Detected."

"Caboose what the hell?! Did you really just try to shoot me?"

"Hi Tucker!"

#please be lenient im not good at writinf #im also horrible at character comprehension so if theyre ooc leave me alone sobs #“He would NOT fucking say that” moment #comments r appreciated....#rvb #red vs blue #rooster teeth #michael j caboose #caboose rvb #agent washington #david washington #wash rvb #my writing #fanfiction #rvb fic

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grungiiuvu · 4 months

Note

Can we hear more on the mq brothel worker au

Alright, so the first half of the au can be found here on @sweepingboy's account!!

The rest is! (cut for length)

After careful espionage and tracking the waxing moon officer, he finally gets close enough to catch a whiff of perfume - a very distinctive perfume, like cherry blossoms, which he knows as the scent Mu Qing was always bathed in when he worked at the brothel. So now he's pretty damn sure

Feng Xin chases down the waxing moon officer in his nan yang disguise, hunting him desperately throughout the city until he can finally get him alone and asks who he is. He's met with hostility at first but, after revealing he's from Xianle, the officer is less hostile and slightly curious.

Slowly, they exchange stories, one bit of information at a time, until Feng Xin finally, fearfully, tells him "I used to frequent a brothel to see my friend before he was murdered. I was going to ask him to marry me when I had enough money but i never made it in time", and there's a long stretch of silence before the ghost ask "Feng Xin?"

Who saw this one coming? The officer is Mu Qing! They have a very tearful reunion, clinging to each other in a tight hug, having both believed the other was dead for 800 years. Feng Xin changes to his original form and Mu Qing slips off the mask, so they can see each other properly for the first time in centuries.

They begin to constantly spend time together, making up for all the years lost by being at each other's side again. Mu Qing reveals he doesn't remember much of xianle - he recalls his mother, cultivation, his ascension and then the brothel work and Feng Xin. Feng Xin fills him in on all the details he missed or can't remember, gently coaxing out buried memories.

Mu Qing, thanks to Feng Xin telling him of Xianle, manages to put together who Hua Cheng's 'beloved' is! Meanwhile, Feng Xin is growing increasingly under the impression that Mu Qing is some sort of prisoner of Crimson Rain and he's not happy about it - his lovers already been a prisoner once before!! Never again!!

Feng Xin begins to plot how he'll rescue/kidnap mu qing from the ghost calamity while Mu Qing begins to hunt down Xie Lian with new leads. They met as often as they can, where Feng Xin rambles about his plans for once he's saved Mu Qing, that he'll bring him up to heaven and hide him in his palace where he can keep him safe forever - Mu Qing finds his stupid ideas incredibly endearing

Eventually, Mu Qing manages to find Xie Lian and gives him to Hua Cheng in exchange for his freedom and pretty much runs off to Feng Xin immediately, where they live happily ever after!!

Some au bonus points are!!

After he'd met Feng Xin again, Mu Qing began to behave very dreamily, always with his mind back to his long lost lover. This managed to convince Ghost City that he was dying soon

No one told Ghost City that Mu Qing had just run off to live somewhere else, they all thought he'd died and kept paying the waning moon officer and chengzhu their condolences

Mu Qing was a famously old ghost in ghost city, having been an officer for as long as it's creation, so they had all just assumed he'd willing scattered his ashes to finally rest

Hua Cheng found Mu Qing's ghost fire crying for his lover and felt they were slightly kindred spirits. Since then, Mu Qing has travelled with him, and guarded mount tonglu when hua cheng went on to be a calamity - they never figured out who the other was until Feng Xin told them the full story

When Feng Xin first found Mu Qing in the brothel, he'd visit just to sit in silence with him. One day, Mu Qing grew angry over this and accused him of trying to gloat. Only then did Feng Xin break down and begin to explain how Xie Lian had 'gone mad' and just how stressed he was and how he was just happy to know mu qing was fed and clean

When feng xin brough mu qing to heaven, he took on the form of a middle court official 'fu yao', a new member of the palace of Nan Yang who seemed to have 'bewitched' the general

the other deputies eventually realise 'Fu Yao' is a ghost and tries to bring this evidence up to feng xin who finds it hilarious to pretend like he has no idea, as if he's not currently covered in ghost qi

There's a few more little tidbits i could add, but i'll refrain!! Thank you for asking :DD

#mu qing #feng xin #tgcf #fengqing #brothel worker mu qing au #thanks for the ask!

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monstersinthecosmos · 3 months

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There's a million clues about how Lestat & Marius are similar characters, like father & son, and I wish so much that we had more content about Marius in his first couple centuries when he was still a fledgling. As much as VC assigned mortal age to your temperament, there's still some clues to Marius's emotional dysregulation in his years with Pandora, even leading to their breakup.

But he lapses into the same fits of despair as Lestat and struggles with his nature. I'm thinking about this part in B&G when he has to slaughter the first group of cultists and has a meltdown realizing this is what it's going to be like forever:

But though deeply touched by their mishmash of Christian and Persian ideas, of their wild notions, and by their curious appearance of innocence, I was also horrified by the fact that this was a new religion among the blood drinkers, and they spoke of other adherents. They spoke of a cult. The human in me was revolted; and the rational Roman was more confused and alarmed than I can express. It was Pandora who quickly brought me to my senses and gave me to know that we must slaughter the whole band. Were we to let them go, others would come to us, and soon the Mother and Father might fall into their hands. I, who had slain old pagan blood drinkers with ease, seemed somehow unable to obey her, perhaps because I realized for the first time that if we remained in Antioch, if we maintained our household and our lives, more and more blood drinkers would come and there would be no end to killing them in order to protect our fine secret. And my soul suddenly could not endure this possibility. Indeed I thought once more of death for myself and even for Those Who Must Be Kept We slaughtered the zealots. It was a simple thing to do for they were so young. It took only moments with torches and with our swords. We burnt them to ashes and then scattered those ashes as, I'm sure you know, must be done. But after it was over, I lapsed into a terrible silence and for months would not leave the shrine. I abandoned Pandora for my own suffering. I couldn't explain to her that I had foreseen a grim future, and when she had gone out to hunt the city or to do whatever amused her, I went to Akasha.

And as much as mortal age gives vampires perspective on humans, gives them perhaps more respect for mortality, gives them solid foundation for understanding the price of immortality, there's still something to be said by their literal age and how they've maybe ripened or calmed down. Lestat is absolutely a unique mess, but how will he mature in 2,000 years? It just makes me wonder about the overlap in their personalities, and how much will change and how much will stay the same, and if Marius is simply a little more chill because he's old as fuck. (There's also the lore that most vampires don't live through their first century anyway, so there's something here about the innate personalities of the ones who last longer and their potential or ability to adapt.)

I've been thinking too about how Marius is prone to big sleeps, and although we're told it's part of the vampire lore and that other vampires do it, a significant portion of the main cast don't. We think it's normal because Marius told Lestat it's normal. Marius saw this struggling young vampire who reminds him of himself and thought "Of course, yes, sometimes we get overwhelmed and need a break", and although he comments on the fact that most vampires as young as Lestat don't yet need to, we also know he was having these despondent fits, hiding in the shrine for months at a time, in his first couple centuries.

#sad about marius again lol #anyway marius just bc you have a unique relationship to 2 very old vampires who are catatonic doesn't mean it's normal !#he learned from the worst lol #marius de romanus #blood & gold #deep ass thoughts about vampires #lestat de lioncourt #vampire chronicles

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corazondebeskar-reads · 8 months

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well it's love, make it hurt - chapter seven

well it’s love, make it hurt series

seven: you say who I am is quite enough

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Summary: Boundaries get blurred when following a trail for a big-ticket bounty leads to a nightclub catering to clients of a specific taste. AKA you and Mando go to a sex club (but for work.)

Warnings: BDSM, bdsm club, bdsm scene, dom! Din Djarin and sub!reader, established relationship, minor original characters, bondage, p in v unprotected sex, orgasm denial, use of a vibrator, nipple clamps, bounty hunting, soft!dom Din Djarin, aftercare

Originally written for Kinktober Day 12 - Orgasm Denial, inspired by @absurdthirst’s wonderful prompt list,

also on ao3

3 ABY - Winter

“There,” Mando says, “Wait, go back.” He takes the datapad from you and scrolls back up, pointing out a location ping from the target’s log. “I know that place.”

The bounty, Olin Vanda, was former ISB who had made a lot of enemies in his time terrorizing the citizens of Morlana One. Without any recent location data to work with and most of the ISB scattered or underground, you were stuck digging for clues.

“What is it?” you say, pulling the map’s edges to get closer to the grid.

“It’s a nightclub in the leisure district.”

“He sure was a frequent visitor.” Vanda’s records show him at the club once a week or so over his three-year stint on planet. “I thought we decided Morlana was a dead end.”

“We thought there wouldn’t be anyone with anything of value to tell us. But I know someone there.”

“Oh, were you also a frequent visitor at a nightclub in the leisure district?” You tease, but he looks away for a moment, thumb rubbing against the side of his fidgety fingers while the other twitched where it rested on his knee.

“Oh, shit, you were.”

He heaves a world-weary sigh, shoulders slumping, and looks up at the ceiling. “Yes.”

“What do you do at a nightclub? Do you dance?” You grin ear to ear, poking him in the side.

He groans, gloved hands covering his visor. “It’s not that kind of club.”

“There are other types of nightclubs? Oh, kriff, are you saying—”

“Yes. It’s a sex club. I went to a sex club.” He has his arms crossed now, looking at you with his helmet tilted slightly forward. Waiting for you to say something stupid.

But you flush and shut your mouth.

“Nothing smart to say?”

You shake your head.

“Go on. Ask me.”

“It’s fine, that’s, um. That’s your business.”

“You’ll have to know before we get there, anyway.” He kicks back, legs crossed at the ankle, and leans against the wall with his arms behind his head.

You don’t dare speak, and after he gives you a moment to interrupt, he focuses on you, wanting to see how you react to his story.

“I ran with a group for a while when I was younger. Rougher types. I was a different man, then. Angrier. They liked to blow off steam in a lot of ways, most of which I couldn’t or wouldn’t participate.” He dips his helmet briefly.

“They’d give me a lot of shit over it, so I started going when they went to these clubs. It was something I could do, that I wanted to do. But Axis was different. It caters to a certain kind of clientele. With particular tastes.”

He looks down for a moment, and you gasp softly. “Oh,” you brush a hand over your collar. “That’s—”

“Yes. That’s where I learned about all the little games you let me play, sweetheart. They all thought it was a fun laugh. Some of it hot, but a lot of it just a big joke. But I kept going back. After a few times on my own, one of the Madames who runs—or ran, I guess I don’t know—started to show me things. Back then, I thought she pitied me for being clueless. Now, I think she was more worried that I was dangerous.”

“Because you’re Mandalorian?”

“No, because I was a headstrong, large being with a clear rage issue. There are so many ways things can go wrong like that. I guess she wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to hurt anyone.”

It was your turn to tilt your head a little, examining him under the new information you had greedily absorbed. “I can’t imagine you being capable.”

“You didn’t know me then. Anyway, I wouldn’t have. The whole idea of abusing your sub was too baffling to me—the beauty of it is in the symbiosis. The give and take.”

You smirk. “You are very good at both.”

He lowers an arm to reach for you, pulling you across the crate to sit beside him as soon as you scooch near enough. “Thank you, cyar’ika,” he murmurs, arm wrapping around your shoulder.

You lean against him, tucked into the warm gap where his arm and side are free of beskar.

“So we’re going to see if she still works there?”

“I was close with a few of the workers. Couple of the professionals, bartenders, other management. I used to help out a little with the troublemakers. If someone was crossing a line.”

You shake your head. “Knew it. You were a softie even then.”

“Oh, I’m a softie?”

“Very much so.”

“That's what those bruises on your ass mean to you?”

You nudge him with your shoulder, laughing. “Kind of. I mean, I did ask for it. All I ever have to do is ask nicely.”

“Hmm.” He taps his foot, and you suddenly don’t like the way he fell deep in thought. “I’ll remember that.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh is right, sweetheart. But we have a job to do.”

You land on Morlana One two days later. You pace in the cockpit, with nothing to do but wait for evening.

Mando was in the hull, working on modifiers for one of his pistols. Or, he was trying, but the possibility you would wear a hole in the floor and fall through was distracting.

“Come down here,” he calls, setting his tools to the side.

You clamber down the ladder, jumping off halfway. “What?”

“Sit,” he points at the stack of crates where your old bedroll still lives.

You hop up and cross your legs. He watches as your right knee bounces and your eyes cast around the hull, head swiveling like a convor.

“You’re nervous.”

You stop moving entirely, his scrutiny a wedge in your gears. “Why would I be nervous about recon? There’s not even going to be a fight today.”

“Hmm.” He's not so sure. But the fight he anticipates is a little more internal, and he wagers a bet you were struggling with the same thing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. Your knee slips back into motion.

“Like what.” he says flatly.

“Oh, ha ha. Yes, it’s funny, see, because you have a helmet, and no one knows what you’re thinking, but you can see everyone else’s feelings and—”

“Hey. Take a breath.” He stands and walks to sit next to you.

You sigh. “You’re so calm about this.”

“No reason to be anything else,” he shrugs.

Easy for him to say. You had both agreed this had to go a certain way. If no one there remembered him, he was an armed bounty hunter walking into a club of people who would not want to be recognized.

People who would probably be more comfortable if they saw him on the same level.

So you had agreed, yes, to “pose” as his sub. You would wear his collar. You would dress and act the part.

You were used to playing stupid or flirting with marks, but you still held the power in those situations. You had the advantage. This time, you would have no way to influence the outcome. Unarmed, and weak.

“We don’t have to do this,” he says, reaching to hold your hand. He's not geared up yet, and the warm strength of his grasp helps a little.

“I’ll be fine, it’s just weird.” Even the outfit felt weird. It was yours; you had worn it for a hundred ops—it fit in perfectly on Cantonica. Granted, it wasn’t a lot of clothing, but you usually felt good in it. Strong.

Right now, you just feel exposed. The nylon shorts areshort, with straps not unlike a holster down one thigh. The shirt is cut short, too, with thick bands that crisscross your shoulders. It has a soft linen cloak attached, with a generous hood and a split panel that runs about mid-calf down your back.

The design was meant to help you conceal weapons. Actual holsters blend into the strappy patterns, and the cloak helps conceal firearms. Not that you’ll be taking any, this time.

You shift on the bench, tugging at the hemline of your shorts.

“It is a little weird,” he agrees. “There’s going to be people fucking and tying each other up, and I’m supposed to keep my hands off you?”

You huff a laugh that doesn’t reach your eyes. “I don’t want this to change how you see me as a partner.”

“Cyar’ika, if anything, I know better than anyone how absolutely terrifying you can be.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, but smile.

On your walk to the district, though, it becomes apparent that he is not as calm as he wanted to be.

“You probably shouldn’t make eye contact with anyone,” he says as you turn a corner. He had been dropping these little fun suggestions the whole way.

“Okay,” you had agreed to each. Don’t talk to anyone who doesn’t talk to you first. Sit still and listen. Look to him before agreeing to anything you’re asked. And on and on.

“Will they kick us out if I forget any of this?”

“No, just. There’s a certain expectation for experienced guests. And we don’t want anyone to think you aren’t experienced. Or that I’m not. Draws attention from the wrong people.”

You consider this quietly until you're steps away from the club. “Mando,” you grab his arm to stop him. “If these are expectations, do you—are you—”

“Do I wish you did all of those things?”

You nod, rubbing your arm and focusing on the neon reflecting off the puddles.

“No. If I wished you would behave a certain way, I’d tell you. Like now, when you’re not looking at me.”

You look up at him immediately, feeling very foolish for worrying about it in the first place. He hasn’t been shy about correcting your behavior or coaching you on the way he likes things done.

He puts his hands on your shoulders. “Everything you do for me is perfect. And this is going to be fine.”

You can only nod, nausea eating away at your nerve.

He shows something to the Devaronian at the door, who steps aside to let you both through. Mando guides you by the hand so you can keep your eyes down.

It's so hard. The club is noisy, claustrophobic despite its sprawling footprint, with red velvet and leather and the smell of polish and sweat. You don’t dare look closer.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blur of bodies. People sitting and chatting, sipping at drinks. Someone dancing on a small stage. Someone with a cock down their throat, kneeling before someone else in tall leather boots.

Mando stops by the bar and leans over, talking quietly to the Twi’lek mixing drinks. She nods and ducks through a curtain behind the counter, and Mando leads you over to an open sofa. He settles, but you waver. Should you sit next to him? Should you kneel on the floor?

He makes the decision for you, tugging you into his lap so you're straddling his thighs, allowing you to hide your face in his cowl, or—as he probably intended—lean your ear down near the helmet to hear him.

“Doing okay?” he murmurs, and you nod into his shoulder. “You can hide this time,” he says, a hand settling on your lower back.

You take a few deep breaths, willing your body into holding a loose, relaxed position. Like you're comfortable here. Like you do this all the time.

He scoops the tails of your cloak to the side, tucked up and out of the way, but unfortunately, also showing off how high the shorts ride up on your thighs. Before you can fuss, though, he solves the problem by wrapping his other hand around your ass.

He lounges, idly watching the activities. He nudges you and points at a couple in the corner nearby. An older man is tied securely to a post, arms above his head and ankles bound to brackets in the floor so his legs are spread wide. His partner works him over with a short whip. They are both clearly enjoying themselves.

You promptly bury your face back in his shoulder, and he chuckles. “Too much? Or would you let me try it?”

Your hips give a very small jerk forward, catching on the seam of his pants before you get control of yourself. “Um.”

But whatever you were about to say is cut off when a stranger approaches. “I have to tell you, I didn’t quite believe Nia when she said you were looking for me.”

“Anissa,” he says, reaching his arm away from your back to accept a sideways hug from the woman. “It’s been a long time.”

“It’s been a damn decade, Mando. Too busy to visit me?” She pauses, seeming to notice you for the first time. “Well, certainly a little busy.”

He nudges you, dipping his head to let you know it was okay to look. It was harder than you would ever admit to pull yourself away from him. You hadn’t felt this unmoored in a situation in decades.

“This is my girl,” he says, warm pride in the undercurrent of his soothing voice. “Cyar’ika, I’d like you to meet my good friend, Madame Anissa.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Madame,” you say softly, inclining your head. My girl. Your brain trips over the echo of his voice, and you forget what comes next. Should you shake her hand? Was it okay for you to have addressed her directly?

“It is very nice to meet you,” she says, extending her own hand to save you the trouble. You shake it, and she clasps your hand gently between both of hers. Her hands are soft and dark, with short nails painted bright blue. She's tall and very beautiful, older, with some white in her curls, and laugh lines deep in her face. Her eyes, though. Pretty as they are, what holds your gaze was the inherent kindness behind them.

When she lets go, you take a quick look around, which is when you notice the woman kneeling patiently at her feet. She's looking at you already, not hesitant about where her eyes linger, though she does not look at Mando.

She looks tense, almost defensive. Her shoulders are taut and her spine straight, hands clasped in her lap. Not defensive, you realize. Postured. A practiced pose. When you look up at her face, she smiles.

You smile back, somehow, despite the constant beat of run run run in your chest.

“So, Mando, business or pleasure?” Anissa asks with the rise of a carefully groomed eyebrow.

“Both, unfortunately,” he says.

You look at him, a little perplexed at the honesty in his tone. He strokes gloved fingers up and down your spine, and you hold your tongue.

“Business first, shall we? Why don’t we let the girls go to the lounge while we talk?”

“She can stay,” Mando says immediately. “She knows my business.”

“I wouldn’t want Mara to be left alone,” Anissa says. Her meaning us clear, and so Mando looks to you.

“The lounge is just over there, and it’s for subs only,” he says. “You stay with Mara.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, rising from his lap. It makes you jittery to call him that in public. While working.

Mara stands and offers you her hand. Not usually one to be tactile with a stranger, you take it anyway and let her lead the way.

She punches in a code at the door’s panel, and it slides to the side to reveal a small parlor in shades of blue. The walls are pale, and there is a soft, lush carpet in navy. An archway leads to a dressing room of sorts, with tables and lighted mirrors and cushioned stools. Mara points out the door to the refresher inside.

“So we don’t have to share with the doms,” she says. “Y’know.”

You nod, trying to get your bearings. It's like being two people at once. Bounty Hunter you takes in every detail, noting the faces of each being, and registering the single exit and entry point. But the Other you, the new one who never had to talk to anyone but Mando, is overwhelmed.

She leads you over to a corner where a small kitchenette is set up and offers you a drink or snack. You accept a bottle of water but, as good as they look, pass on the iced cookies. You aren’t sure of the integrity of your lunch with the way your nerves refuse to settle, so something sweet feels like an invitation for disaster.

When you were seated on a plush sofa, legs tucked underneath you and twisting the lid on and off the water, she sets a hand on your knee.

“Do you need help?” she asks, voice soft. leaning forward so her long, red hair fell over where her arm reached for you.

“What?”

“Just, you know. Are you safe? We can help you if you aren’t.” Her dark eyes are wide and genuine.

Warm relief washes through you. “Oh! Yes, I promise. He looks scary, but he’s very kind.”

“And you’re allowed to say no?” Mara asks, still very serious.

“Yes. And we have a… a safeword?” You aren’t sure if the term he used was universal.

She sighs and smiles. “If that changes, you let me know, okay?”

You agree easily, though you doubt you’ll ever be here again.

She pulls out a small datapad and stands. “Wait here, I’ll be right back. Madame wants a drink,” she says, with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

Mando pauses mid-sentence when Mara ducks in to slip a pink cocktail to her Madame. He waits until she's gone back toward the lounge.

“I take it I passed the test.”

Madame Anissa laughs, setting the drink down since there is no need for the pretense. “It has been ten years,” she says.

“I’m glad you did it,” he agrees.

“She seems like a sweet girl,” Anissa muses, “if maybe inexperienced.”

“I thought you wanted to talk business first?”

“You haven’t changed at all, have you? Good.” She claps her hands together and rests them on her knees. “What do you need?”

Mara returns to find you talking to a man, a younger Twi’lek named Ari, whose light green skin is barely visible through his extensive tattoos.

“So you don’t know what he looks like?” he was asking you.

You shake your head. “I don’t know what his face looks like. Except, I don’t know. I do?”

“You peeked?” Mara asks as she takes her seat back beside you.

“No! No, I just mean. The helmet is the only face I’ll ever know, right? So, I don’t know. I don’t really think about the other one.” Except when he was between your legs, hot mouth making you see stars.

“You’re not curious at all?” Ari asks.

“I didn’t say that. But it’s not important.” You shrug. “That’s just him, to me.”

They let you change the subject and chat a little about their own lives, who they are outside of their relationships. The whole time, though, your stomach churns. You don’t belong here, it seemed to say. These are good people.

And something horrible aches inside you. You like them. You want to stay here on this little couch and talk and laugh. They're nice and so comfortable with themselves, even in this weird tiny room where you all exist between two halves of yourselves.

Another life hangs in the air. A bad habit of yours, to conjure what you can’t have. A life where Mando brings you here all the time, to be together outside of the Crest. Where you’d lay your head in Ari’s lap and listen to him gossip about the will-they-won’t-they customers or Nia’s affair with the doorman. Where Mara would let you braid her hair, and you could swap secrets and laugh at jokes only the two of you understood.

A life with Mando in it for a long, long time.

You're saved from them asking why you had gone quiet, saved from your childish desires, when Mara’s datapad chirps.

“They want us to come back out now. Or, I’m guessing, your Mandalorian is getting lonely,” she teases.

More like he had completed his mission and was ready to move on, you think.

But instead of standing to leave when you find him, he gestures for you to sit back down on his lap. Mara helps herself to Madame Anissa’s lap, earning a swat for being cheeky, but no other scolding.

“Mando,” Anissa drawls. “Is she wearing a collar?”

His grip tightens, his fingers digging into your waist a little. “Yes.”

You hold very still, breathing shallow, trying to parse his reaction.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Anissa shakes her head. “Maybe you have changed.”

“I like to think so,” he says quietly.

You stare at the edge of the sofa just over his shoulder. Afraid if you move, draw his attention by hiding your face, that you’d be caught listening. Not that they really could expect you not to, you reason.

“Cyar’ika,” Mando says.

“Yes, sir?”

He's quiet, this conversation just for you. “Madame Anissa offered us a room, if you’d like. A private room, I mean. For a couple hours, or for the night. We could get going in the morning.”

The air is thick and cloying, catching in your throat. He wants to stay here? He didn’t want to get on the trail, sleep through the journey?

“We don’t have to,” he rushes to assure you.

You bite your lip. Your gut says yes, please, let me have you like this for a little bit longer. “If you’d like,” you test.

He quirks his head, and you raise your eyebrows before you realize your mistake. He was asking your opinion and expected you to give it.

“I’d like that, I mean,” you confess, looking right into his visor.

“Is that a yes, then?” Anissa asks, not at all ashamed for eavesdropping.

“Yes, please,” Mando tells her.

She stands, Mara scrambling off her lap in time to avoid falling.

Mando makes to follow her, but Mara grabs your hand before you can go with him.

“I meant it,” she says. “You come find me if you need anything.” She stares unwaveringly into your eyes.

“I will,” you say, squeezing her hand. “I won’t need to, though.”

She squeezes back and lets you go.

The room is intimidating. It wasn’t meant to be, draped in shades of green and brown. But in addition to the huge bed is an assortment of furniture and accessories unlike you had ever seen. Not that it was hard to guess what they were for.

When Anissa leaves, door clicking into place behind her, it's the most awkward you’d felt with Mando in nearly a year. He, of course, didn’t miss a thing.

“We can just sleep,” he says, tugging your hand to sit beside him on the edge of the bed.

You shake your head and sink to kneel in front of him, leaning your head against his leg.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, tugging his gloves off and cupping your cheek. “You’ve been on the edge all day, haven’t you?”

You nod against his palm, eyes slipping closed. The floor is warm, unusually so, like there was a heating system beneath. The planks were practical for a room that probably saw a lot of fluids, but not uncomfortable.

“So if you don’t want to sleep…” he says, running a thumb over your bottom lip.

You look up at him, something warm in your gaze. “Let me guess,” you say, pressing a soft kiss to his digit. “You want to try something.”

He laughs, and the last of the uneasiness leaves you in a soft sigh.

“I do. But not with any of that,” he gestures to what you could only describe as sex furniture. “Not tonight, anyway. Just something simple. Easy.”

“That sounds nice,” you agree. Your limbs are heavy, and you're starting to come down from the adrenaline rush from all the new and intimidating stimuli from the day.

“Climb up here, cyar’ika, and get comfortable.”

You obey. The mattress is thick and covered with a dense layer of blankets. Enough pillows to fill the Crest are piled against the headboard. You sink into it, face first, and sigh.

“Goodnight,” you tell Mando.

He gives your ass a light smack. “Too late for that, sweetheart.”

You groan dramatically, flopping over onto your back and throwing an arm over your face. “You’re so cruel to me.”

“Oh? I thought I was a big softie?”

Your eyes shoot open. “Uh oh.”

“Told you I’d remember that, cyar’ika.” He had procured soft cuffs from somewhere, and is already in the process of wrapping them around your ankles and securing them to the bed, which you realize then has little u-shaped brackets all over the supports.

“Whoa, that’s kind of neat,” you say, sitting up on your elbows to get a better look.

He pushes you back to the bed, shaking his head, and makes quick work of your wrists.

You tug gently, a sharp rush of arousal and a heavy warmth spreading when nothing budges. You lift your head to watch as he carefully removes his armor, setting each piece aside on the long padded table across the room. It also has brackets down the sides, you notice, and looks like it could be raised and lowered at multiple points. Your mouth goes dry thinking about finding yourself atop it.

“This is such a pretty outfit, cyar’ika. Did you like everyone seeing you like this?” He runs his hand over your bare midriff, teasing up the bottom of your shirt.

“I’ve worn this before.”

“Not with me, you haven’t. I’d remember.” His fingers wander just under your breasts before he withdraws his hand, smoothing back down across your stomach. “It’s practically underwear, sweetheart. Does it make you feel pretty?”

“I guess,” you mumble. He's treading into uncomfortable waters, and he knows it.

“It should. You look so strong and soft. Makes me wish I could taste you.”

You whine, his hand trailing over your shorts. The thin, stretchy fabric was great for being on the move, but it does nothing to dampen sensation.

“Sorry, sweetheart, not tonight. I shouldn’t tease.” The tips of his fingers trace the seam of your cunt, and you buck up toward him. He draws his hand back immediately and grins as the realization spreads across your face.

“Figured out what game I want to play tonight?”

“Fuck.”

“What’s the matter? Are you worried I’m going to be mean?”

“Uh-huh,” you whine as he resumed his caresses, hardly more than a breeze.

“I thought you said I’m soft? That all you have to do is ask nicely?” He scrapes a fingernail across your shorts, and you jerk your hips again, whimpering and straining against the cuffs as he draws back.

“I haven’t even gotten started, and you’re already this desperate.”

You burn at the taunt, biting your tongue to keep from whining again. You force yourself to take a deep breath, closing your eyes and trying to center yourself. You could play his game.

He doesn’t like that, apparently, reaching up to flick a nail where your shirt pulls over your hard nipple. It startles a yelp out of you, turning the wrath of your glare to him.

“I wonder which of us will tire out first,” he muses, tweaking it with a quick pinch before rolling his palm over your other nipple.

You. It would be you. You know it, he knows it. But you set your jaw and steel yourself to take whatever he gives you.

Though you hadn’t counted on the cabinet of toys. When he walks away from the bed, you sigh and take a moment to gather your wits.

His saunter on the way back should have warned you. He holds up a hand, three foreign items clutched within. “Know what these are?”

You shake your head.

“You will.” He sets them down on the mattress in your line of sight. “But not yet.”

The two small clamps aren’t hard to figure out, and a shiver runs over you. It goes straight to your cunt, where you're sure you've soaked through.

The wet patch doesn’t escape his notice, either, and he resumes brushing his hand over you with incredible gentleness.

A scream is building in your chest, a ferocious thing. You focus on breathing again and not trying to figure out what the little capsule is for.

He takes his time teasing you through your clothes before finally lifting your shirt over your breasts. While he had intended to resume the same impossibly soft touch, he can’t resist giving your tits a few firm slaps, watching them bounce and reaping the reward of your breathy little moans.

Having had his fun, he switches back to barely touching you. His cock is painfully hard, but easy to ignore as he watches your face screw up in delicious agony. You’d taken the bait and were refusing to beg.

Good. It’ll be so much more satisfying when you break down and plead with him.

By the time he begins to apply gentle pressure, you're starting to lose your battle. Your chest heaves with the effort, desperate cries falling from your lips. You writhe against the bonds, trying to shake his hand away.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You need something?”

You let out a sob, flinching away from him and wrestling with your conviction.

So he presses his thumb down firmly against your clit. You jerk, unable to get far enough away.

“Please,” you cry, voice breaking. “Please, please, please.”

“What was that?”

“Please,” another breathless sob. “Please, can I cum, sir? Please?”

“You are good at asking nicely,” he muses, rubbing a soft circle against your clit. “But no.”

“What?” your head snaps up, tears welling.

“Not yet, cyar’ika.” He removes his hand and watches as your hips twitch to chase him.

“You’re sweating, sweetheart. Let’s give you a break and get you out of those clothes.” He unclipps the cuffs and brings you a bottle of water. You gulp half of it down, glaring at him.

“Alright, up. Strip.”

You don’t budge from where you sit on the edge of the bed, holding the water to your chest.

He tilts the helmet. “You’re mad I said no, so you’re going to be disobedient? That seem like a wise choice?”

“No,” you grumble but don’t move.

He can see the fight you're having as you chew on your lip, scowling at the floor. You take another drink of water and stand, reaffixing your glare on his visor.

He waits, one hand on a hip. “Watch yourself, sweetheart.”

You set the water bottle on the nightstand, fingers flexing near the hem of your shirt.

“Take it off—”

“Or you will?” You roll your eyes. But you realize your mistake the minute the words slip out. “Oh, kriff. I'm sorry.” You scramble to pull your clothes off.

He lets you frantically fumble, watching as you even fold your clothes and set them neatly on the nightstand.

You go to kneel in front of him and apologize, but he cuts you off.

“Back on the bed.”

When you're in place, he moves to strap you back down. Your lip trembles, and he knows it's killing you not to beg forgiveness. He strokes your cheek.

“Done pouting?”

“Yes, sir, I—”

“Quiet,” he says, not unkindly. “I knew this would be hard for you. I do spoil you. You get through the rest of this without the attitude, and I’ll consider it forgiven.”

You nod, lips pursed.

“You can beg. But you’ll accept my answers.”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper.

Satisfied, he moves to better access your cunt. He runs a hand over your trembling thigh and finally parts you with one finger, not quite dipping inside. Your groan wracks your whole body, your hole clenching at nothing as his finger traces the outside.

After a while (and you had no concept of the passage of time, it could have been years), he abruptly shoves two fingers in to the knuckle.

You scream. It sensd a rush through his body, his cock twitching where it still lay beneath his clothes.

“No, no, no, please,” you cry as he begins to pull his fingers out, only to break into a moan when he shoves them back in.

“Doing okay? Do you need a break?”

“No, please don’t stop, fuck,” you gasp.

He slides his thumb up to rub against your clit, smirking at the way you wail and struggle against the cuffs.

It wasn’t enough. He needs you to break again. He flicks his thumbnail against your swollen bud, and you fall apart.

“Please, please, please,” you're full-out sobbing, now. “Please, can I cum, Sir?”

He pinches your clit harshly. “No.”

You scream, thrash, and fight to keep control of yourself. He lets go, letting you back away from the edge. His goal isn’t to make you disobey, but simply to toy with you until he's had his fill.

“Time for something a little different, cyar’ika,” he says, standing up to walk around to the side where he had left the toys.

Your head snaps to the side, and your cries stopped abruptly, fear curling in your gut.

“I really think you’re going to like these,” he says, showing you the little clips in his hand. “Hold still.”

You suck in a breath and hold your body tight, eyes squeezed shut.

“Look at you, pretty girl. You’re being so good for me.” He holds your left breast in one hand and brings the clamp to it, easing the pressure off to let it slowly close. The moan reverberates through your body, and when the accompanying shudder shakes the clamp, it gets even louder.

“How’s that feel? Is it too tight?” He’s fairly sure you’re fine, from your reaction, but it would be remiss not to check.

You groan. “S’good, fuck.”

“Ready for the other one?”

“Oh, fuck,” you sob, nodding.

He takes his time, now that you know what to expect, and drags the tip of the clamp around your nipple first just to watch you squirm. After he eases it on, he gives you a firm slap on the side of your breast.

It's fucking ethereal, the way your back arches and the desperate way you cry for permission to cum.

“Still no, cyare, sorry.”

You have the sense of mind still to stare at him incredulously. “Sorry?!”

He laughs. “You’re right. I’m not sorry.” And he hits you again. The way your whole body shakes with the effort to be good has him moaning and stroking his cock through his pants. “Osik, I might just cum from this.”

It doesn't have the reaction he wanted this time. Instead, you still and looked at him, eyes wide and lip trembling. “You’re not going to fuck me?” you whisper.

He rubs his hand over your side, letting the soothing motion distract you from your throbbing cunt. “Depends,” he lies. “You going to keep being good for me?”

“Please, I will, I’ll be good, I’ll do anything, please.”

He knows you're about to break. Harder than you ever have before, he expects. “I know you will, cyar’ika. I’ve got one more, can you take one more challenge?”

You try to choke back the sobs wracking your body, nodding.

He hesitates. “It’s not going to be easy.” He sits, for a moment, watching. Waiting to see if you calm down. When your sobs subside, and you're breathing easier, he stands up and retrieves the water, pressing it to your lips.

Once you've had a few sips, you blink your wet lashes open and look at him. “I can, I swear. I want to. I can take it.”

“Okay,” he says, standing up, and he shows you the little cylinder.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he says. “And I’m going to turn this on and hold it against your clit until you can’t stand it anymore.” He twists the base, and the vibrator jumps to life. He holds it against your side for a moment so you know what to expect. “Or we can stop, and I’ll still fuck you, and we can go to sleep.”

You don't hesitate. “I can take it,” you insist.

He had intended to fuck you after you begged from the vibrator, but it seems unwise. So he climbs onto the bed between your spread legs before unclipping your ankles.

You don't even notice, too distracted by the smooth way he pushes into you.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he groans.

“No shit,” you moan. “Someone’s been torturing me for hours.”

He pulls back and began fucking into you, too wound up to take it slow. Plus, he knows when he turns the vibrator on, you are going to fall apart in just minutes. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound like me. I’m a softie.”

“Shut up,” you groan, words punching out of you as his cock batters into you. “I take it back.”

“Oh good,” he says. “Then I can do this now.”

He pauses his movements, to your disappointment, but your whine is cut off when he pushes the vibrator right up to your clit and turns it on.

He meant to keep fucking into you, but you clamp down so tight he thinks his cock might snap. You scream silently until he tugs the clamps off, and it cracks into a wail.

“Cum, cyar’ika,” he says, grinding his hips to reach into you, to carve out a place for himself in you, and you fall apart.

He joins you, holding your legs tight against him so he won’t slip out, and as soon as your cries turn sharp, he pulls the vibrator away, turning it off and tossing it to the ground. You keep your legs wrapped around him and don’t let up, so he doesn’t try to pull out just yet. He lets his cock stay warm within you as you twitch through the aftershocks.

The sheets are soaked, your cunt leaking as he softened. He runs his hands over your hips and stomach, crooning praises.

Finally, your legs fall limp to his sides, and he slides carefully out, wincing at how swollen you are. You're still twitching, but also very clearly falling asleep. Fuck it, he thinks, and leaves the mess. Carefully, he releases your wrists from the cuffs, red marks dug in where you had struggled. He lays your arms carefully down and then climbs in next to you.

You nestle up to his chest, and he wraps himself around you, stroking your hair. “You’re right, cyar’ika,” he whispers as you drift off. “You make me soft.”

*title from "New Again" by Taking Back Sunday.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #dom din djarin #make it hurt verse #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian smut

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youcouldmakealife · 5 months

Text

LBTE: Jared (158-160)

In which there are meetings.

If you'd like to follow along, the series page is here.

158. Under Advisement

Sit down, it’s actually a good thing I have a chance to talk to you guys without PR breathing down my neck.”

“Um,” Jared says. Private meetings with GMs are not historically his favourite thing, even if Foster’s always been cool before. “Should we — maybe we should wait for everyone?”

“No, no,” Foster says. “Sit.”

Brian Foster: PR’s worst nightmare.

“Ownership’s explicitly told me you’re not currently tradeable assets — I didn’t need to be told that, by the way, I just want you to know that the first thing they said to me. Well, actually not the first thing, the first thing was — never mind, I’m rambling, I do that. It’s an annoying habit.”

“It’s not annoying,” Jared says, which gets him a grateful look from Bryce as well as Foster. “I think PR would have been pretty cool with that speech, honestly.”

“Are you kidding?” Foster says. “It’d be all ‘you can’t identify who asked for advice, Brian!’ ‘you can’t tell them about a private conversation with the owner, Brian!’ Though probably that’s more HR. Who are also going to be at the meeting, by the way. It’s an all hands kind of meeting. We probably should have booked a conference room. Not that we need to book, it’s — never mind.”

PR’s worst nightmare. Also there are three people in this room and maybe one functioning brain to mouth filter between them.

“Of course they do,” Foster says, then frowns at him. “I told you to as well. Anyway don’t tell them I told you that stuff. I shouldn’t have. That’s — I know the rambling is annoying. I’m trying to get better about it.”

I am very fond of this man.

“I couldn’t figure out how to book the conference rooms,” Foster says. “The system kept locking me out.”

“You’re the GM, Brian,” Dwyer says. “You delegate that. Stay here, I’ll find us a conference room.”

Everyone suddenly arrives, then they scatter, off on the hunt for a room big enough to hold everyone, then on the hunt for someone who has keys to the room, then calling Summers and Greg to let them know things will be delayed. Foster was right — everyone calls him Brian, and there are a lot of exasperated ‘Brian’s being said, while Bryce and Jared sit in Foster’s office, forgotten for the moment.

Very, very fond of this disaster GM.

“Babe—“ Jared says, then Foster’s coming in, saying, “Sorry to barge in!”, like they aren’t sitting in his office, then, “They found a conference room. I’m not allowed to organise meetings anymore. Did you guys want coffee? Shelley’s assistant is going on a coffee run.”

Every bit I write of Brian makes me smile. A little treat for me.

“Okay,” Foster says, then, retreats, mumbling something to himself that Jared can hear — he’s reciting Bryce’s drink order under his breath, presumably so he doesn’t forget it.

“Oh,” Foster says, bursting right back in. “You guys should probably come to the conference room, eh?”

He, like Greg, is doing his best.

So — small mercies, he guesses. They have supportive friends and teammates. His parents are giving him some distance because he asked for it, but they’re standing by. Bryce’s mom came with food and hugs. Their GM is behind them, as is their room, and they couldn’t have depended on that in Calgary or Edmonton. This could have happened earlier in their relationship, when Bryce was less comfortable with his sexuality and Jared had less faith in them as a unit. It really could have been so much worse.

Listing all sorts of possibilities that could have, but did not, occur in this narrative.

Do we need Dmitry as an annoying chaperone going forward Jared texts Stephen after Elaine heads out. He wonders after if that’s a confusing question, but then decides that Stephen pretends to be omniscient often enough that he can figure it out or be confused.

Gabe is much less annoying if you require a chaperone Stephen replies, which is comforting, and also true.

Yes but Jared doesn’t scowl the moment Gabe enters a room, so that will do nothing to mitigate Jared’s soppy face.

Also: confirmed, Stephen is omniscient. Or just very on Jared’s wavelength.

“What’s twitter saying about us now?”

“How should I know?” Bryce asks, but his guilty face gives him away and he knows it.

Someone must stop him.

“It’s not as bad as I figured it’d be,” Bryce says. “Like. I don’t know if I made it bigger in my own head all along, or if it’s like — it was that bad, the first few times players came out, and then time passed and it kept happening and people got used to it. I don’t know. There’s shit but it like — honestly people said worse shit about me when I got traded to the Canucks. By like, a lot.”

That’s weirdly unsurprising, and both depressing and encouraging at the same time. Like, sure, you can marry a dude, but playing for a divisional rival? That’s a bridge too far.

The conversation has significantly changed since Marc and Dan were outed (2010). There’s some extremely alarming backsliding happening, but all told, it would be a very different reaction than what Bryce witnessed as a teen.

Also seriously imagine if Leon Draisaitl joined the Flames or something. CHAOS. OUTRAGE!!

“And everyone’s talking about how hot you are,” Bryce says. “Which, like, obviously I agree.”

Jared rolls his eyes. “They are not,” he says.

They are. Incessantly.

And it’s kind of comforting to know that while Jared would get caught obsessing over all the worst tweets, Bryce is focusing on the ones that call Jared hot. Not the ones complimenting him — and if there are tweets about Jared being hot, there are probably twice as many about Bryce — but Jared.

There are not twice as many about Bryce.

“What’s that for?” Bryce asks when Jared kisses his temple, the crest of his cheekbone, his mouth as it curves up. He was clearly expecting that argument about cognitive bias, and he looks confused but pleased that he’s getting kissed instead.

“Nothing,” Jared says, and takes that golden opportunity, Bryce smiling, guard down, to confiscate his phone, because clearly Bryce needs to be saved from himself.

Bryce so touched he forgot about machinations.

159. Rehearsal

Bryce makes a noncommittal sound, and Jared breaks his own ‘don’t touch the driver’ rule, reaching out and squeezing Bryce’s thigh in a way he hopes is comforting and not like, grope-y. Not the time for grope-y. Kind of because of the general situation, but mostly because of the whole driving thing.

No groping in motor vehicles. This is not a lesson Jared needs to learn twice, unlike the shower lesson.

Jared wonders if they opted for a younger employee to make them feel less defensive, more related to. If there’s one department he can assume is always trying to spin something, it’s PR.

Yes.

Grace also does a lot of the social media stuff though, and they knew this wasn’t something they could handle exclusively via traditional media. So ‘relates to the youth’ but also ‘is the youth’. She’s in her late 20s, which they consider close enough. There are youth-ier employees, but nobody’s putting an intern in charge of this, even with supervision.

“Before we start discussing how the press conference is going to go, I want to hear from you guys, in your words, the answers to some of the questions you’re probably going to get,” Grace says. “And we can build on everything from there, okay?”

In other words: how much do I have to edit the words that will be coming out of your mouths?

Jared tries not to wince. He thinks he fails. Bryce glances over at Jared, and then gives a very tame, very redacted version of camp. Jared only sounds moderately dickish in it, which is impressive, really, because now that he’s no longer seventeen, he accepts that he was extremely dickish the entire time, and also extremely lucky that Bryce likes that about him for some reason.

I think this is the first time Jared admits, without caveats, that he was an asshole to Bryce at the camp. No ‘but he was a douche’ quickly following or the like, no defensive ‘he started it’, just ‘I was extremely dickish to Bryce’. Good work, Jared. (He’s still never telling Bryce he was right about that stretch, even though they both know he was)

“That’s how we met!” Bryce says.

“It sounds sketchy,” Jared says.

“It sounds so sketchy,” Grace confirms.

It was supposed to BE sketchy. Fucking Bryce, man.

“Great,” Grace says. It does not sound like she thinks it’s great, honestly.

“Jared was really mature for—“ Bryce starts, then quiets when Jared kicks his ankle before he makes things sound even sketchier.

NO, BRYCE.

“I’m not going to ask you to lie about how you met,” Grace says. “But I am going to ask you to not tell the truth, unless you want people to start talking about power differentials and the age of consent.”

“Not in Canada,” Jared says. “Age of consent is sixteen.”

Of note! Because of course Jared looked it up (there are also ‘Romeo and Juliet’ near in age exceptions that would encompass their relationship, because nobody wants that law getting used to harass a sixteen year old dating a fifteen year old.)

“It wasn’t sketchy,” Bryce tells her very earnestly. “I know it sounds sketchy, but it was like—“

Jared silently wills Bryce not to say ‘true love’.

“—true love,” Bryce says.

BRYCE. NO.

“Like, we’re married,” Bryce says. “We’re spending the rest of our lives together. It was like—“

Jared hopes ‘fate’ or ‘destiny’ isn’t leaving Bryce’s mouth next.

“—meant to be, y’know?” Bryce says. “Stop looking at me like that, J.”

“I’m not even looking at you,” Jared says. He is looking at the table, because he can’t bear to accidentally meet Grace’s eye while Bryce is saying these things.

Bryce is starting to warm up to this media business as he realises he can say things like ‘true love’ and ‘meant to be’ and nobody starts booing and face washing him.

“This is exactly the kind of dynamic we want. People tend to push back against the gross in love stuff when it seems manufactured, but it’s pretty clear it’s genuine. We can definitely run with this.”

This is a very kind way of calling Bryce gross.

“That’s not really Jared’s thing,” Bryce says.

“We could try?” Jared says weakly.

“No,” Bryce says. “That’s — that’s not J. We’re not like — we’re not coming out just to pretend to be people we’re not.”

Oh Bryce.

“Just because you’re stupidly romantic like, naturally, does not mean I can’t be just as gross as you if I want to be,” Jared says.

He doesn’t believe it even as he’s saying it, and neither does Bryce, judging by his face. Which is — fair. It’s fair. Nobody could compete with Bryce’s level of mushy, but Jared isn’t even in the running. Dmitry is mushier with Bryce in public than Jared is. And frankly Jared’s fine with that, but he can be mushy if he has to. He guesses.

“Doing this in public is also totally acceptable,” Grace says.

“Doing what?” Jared asks.

As Jared is feebly arguing he can be romantic, Bryce continues to have visible hearts in his eyes for his lying husband. It’s a great dynamic. Grace is excited about it. (she hasn’t seen them in front of cameras yet.)

They exchange contact information, making sure to CC Summers. Also Greg, though that’s more so he doesn’t feel left out. This is Summers’ show, and Jared thinks Greg knows it, and honestly doesn’t think he minds. Jared certainly doesn’t.

I cannot begin to express how relieved Greg is that this is Dave’s show.

“Absolutely no internet,” Grace tells them. “None. I mean, other than the email I’m going to send you, obviously.”

“Not even funny dog videos?” Bryce asks.

Bryce has to make sure after Dave’s ‘nobody but me and Greg’ somehow allowed him to take calls from his mom.

“Okay, fine, you can have funny animal videos,” Grace says. “But stay off all social media. Also anything to do with hockey.”

“Can I check the box scores, though?” Bryce asks. “It’s important to keep up with the rest of the league.”

Grace sighs. “Okay. You can have box scores and animal videos. And that’s it.”

“But—“ Bryce says.

Jared doesn’t see Bryce much in the context of ‘authority figures’ (loosely, in Grace’s case, but she is calling the shots), so beyond Bryce and Dave having a combative relationship, Jared misses part of the issue with Bryce in these situations is that he sometimes (often) pushes back just to push back. He’s gotten a lot better about it as he’s matured, but sometimes he can’t help himself.

“Everyone likes you best,” Bryce mutters as they’re walking to their car, but only after someone from security made sure no one was lurking in the underground parking lot hoping to ambush them for a picture or a scoop. Which is obviously such a fun thing Jared hopes will continue indefinitely.

“You’ve never checked the weather in your entire life,” Jared says.

“I could,” Bryce says. “Maybe I’m getting old and boring.”

“Knowing what it’s like out is not boring,” Jared says. “It’s preparation. Are you mimicking me right now?”

“No,” Bryce mutters, abruptly ceasing.

Jared elbows Bryce in the side, and Bryce hip checks him right into a pillar. Gently, but still: rude.

They don’t bicker much — it’s more Jared snarking at Bryce, but it’s fun when Bryce bites back. For me and for Jared.

160. Whirlwind

So Jared guesses they got engaged like, practically as soon as they got together. Like, boom, date three or something: engaged. Bryce moves fast in the storyline. Also in real life, but not that fast. Jared thinks Bryce in this storyline moves a little too fast, frankly. And it isn’t realistic that Jared in this storyline said yes that early in their relationship.

Nitpicking Grace’s storyline for OOC behaviour is peak Jared.

“Please,” Grace says, pinching her nose. “It was a whirlwind romance. Based on a friendship that grew out of shared interests and mutual respect and nobody being anybody else’s coach at the time.”

Jared would like to again point out that Bryce was a terrible couch who didn’t do anything but sulk, so it basically doesn’t count.

“You come here, wringing your hands about best business practices,” Foster says. “When a decade ago both Riley and Lapointe went to the Habs as a package deal. Did you forget about that or are you just coming here with a bullshit line of reasoning so you can pretend you’re not being homophobic as you’re asking homophobic questions? You don’t get to have it both ways. You don’t get to say their sexuality has nothing to do with this and then turn right around and ask me if I knew about their sexuality when I signed them. That’s not how this works.”

Brian Foster’s entire press conference was some of the most fun I’ve ever had writing a scene. Pure Id.

Grace finds a tweet with a longer clip, in which Foster manages to insult three media organisations, mock homophobic fans, swear at least half a dozen times, and reiterate the organisation’s support for Bryce and Jared. He also takes a question about the power play.

Love me a man who can multitask.

“I think you should probably give in and start calling him Brian?” Bryce says, looking over at Jared. Bryce caved to his demands the third time Foster explicitly told him to, but Jared wasn’t planning on it: it felt too weird. But he may have to revise that decision.

“He does keep asking me to,” Jared says.

Jared figures angry monologue defending him and Bryce earns first name basis.

He’s sure there’s already going to be ‘wow, Marcus is slumming with a middle sixer’ shit.

“Literally nobody is going to be saying that,” Bryce tells him. “Like. At all.”

Babe you’re the arm candy.

“Bryce!” Jared says.

Bryce very busily looks at literally everything but Jared.

“Stop going online!” Jared says.

He can’t help it!

“I mean, not by Joe from Kamloops who’s decided he can’t support the Canucks anymore, no,” Jared says. “And definitely not Jim from Red Deer who doesn’t give a shit about the Canucks, but has come to say he’s pretty positive your shoulder injury is proof that being gay is morally wrong, actually.”

No offence to Joes and Jims. Full offence to Kamloops and Red Deer.

And Dmitry will probably beat them up, judging by the text he sent Jared assuring him that he will beat them up, along with approximately seventeen emojis Jared didn’t bother trying to parse.

Look: emojis transcend language. A fist is a fist is a fist.

“Okay, then quit reading the opinions of people who are so miserable that the idea of two people in love with each other makes them furious,” Jared says. “It’s pathetic. They’re pathetic.”

Jared was at a very tender, vulnerable age when he saw some of the blowback of the OG coming out controversy. It didn’t make things easier for him as he started to come to terms with his sexuality, and it did not make Jared like people any more than he was originally inclined to.

“They’re planning on like, rainbow flags,” Bryce says. “Canucks fans. They’re coordinating it online. They’re planning on bringing rainbow flags. And supportive signs and stuff. Some have taken pictures. They’re — they’re really nice.”

It isn't all bad though.

“There aren’t any bad ones,” Gabe says, nudging Jared’s shoulder. “If that’s why you’re keeping your head down.”

“I wasn’t doing it on purpose,” Jared says.

This warm up scene is dialogue and action heavy because Jared’s trying really hard not to feel anything right now, starting with keeping his eyes on the ice so he can't see the crowd.

“There’s one behind the net that says LJBTQ,” Gabe says. “The JB is in a heart. I thought it was kind of clever, but you just know someone on the internet is going to say it’s bi erasure. Which, as a bi dude, I completely agree there’s bi erasure in the community, but — oh, that one says PB&J and peanut butter and jelly are holding hands. It’s adorable. I have no idea what the P could be, though. Maybe Pacific? That’d work, I guess, but—

The P stands for ‘we can’t make a PB&J pun without the P’, for the record. Sometimes it’s not that deep.

“Gabe,” Jared says.

“Okay, okay,” Gabe says, putting his hands up, and skates over to where Dmitry’s doing the ridiculous motions he calls stretches.

Jared looks up, but the lights are bright and his eyes are blurry and all he can see is a wash of colour, so he blinks and blinks and goes to find another puck to try to get in the back of the net.

God Gabe can’t you see Jared is trying not to feel emotions?

“If anyone says shit to you,“ Dmitry says. “Tell me. I will fight them.”

“I know,” Jared says.

“Even if they say ‘hello’ or ‘good evening’,” Dmitry says. “I will fight them.”

“Kind of sounds like you just want an excuse to fight someone,” Jared says.

Well. Yes. But also — got your back.

But something breaks through during a TV timeout, has him looking up at the Jumbotron, because the applause and cheers are louder than a kiss cam or dance cam or celebrity lookalike. The camera’s on Bryce in the press box, looking a little stunned. After a moment Leo elbows him, grinning, and Bryce raises a hand to wave at the crowd in acknowledgement, the sound intensifying in response. The Canucks all bang their sticks against the boards, and Jared is late to join them, eyes caught on Bryce’s face.

And Jared knows this is a home game. He knows it isn’t going to be anything like this in other arenas, knows other teams’ fans won’t be this supportive, that opponents are going to use this against them, that there are always going to be people that think less of Bryce, of both of them, simply because they love each other. He knows that.

But Jared also knows Bryce is looking bashful but smiling, a mixture of happiness and bone deep relief on his face, and in this moment, that’s the only thing in the entire world that matters.

The moment that Bryce gets everything he never even dreamed of hoping for. That he gets everything he never thought he could have.

This is the original ending, before one last arc decided to jump onto the back. I also consider it the end of the climax — it’s all denouement from here.

#liveblogging the end

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fanficshiddles · 2 months

Text

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 40

On Monday at the school, Claire was surprised but glad to see that Mandy was back in. She was looking fine, though when Claire spoke to her, she did say she was still a little sore in her ribs.

‘I know that you want to hunt the traditional way, but please at least take Chris’ teachings into account next time. To protect yourself, more than anything.’ Claire said softly to her.

‘I will.’ Mandy mumbled, she was feeling ashamed that she had been attacked so badly by humans.

Mandy carried on to her class, Claire was about to head to Loki’s class too when Chris turned the corner, purposely blocking her way.

‘Not trying to preach the blood bank way instead of traditional, hmm? Whatever would your boyfriend say?’ Chris mocked as he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall.

‘He’d say the exact same thing if it meant to protect her.’ Claire said with a smirk as she put her hands on her hips. She knew he was trying to get under her skin, as usual.

‘I doubt it. He thinks I force them all to hunt, but if he used even half of his brain, he’d know it’s the only way.’ Chris hissed.

‘Can’t you go one bloody second without insulting him?’ Claire grumbled at him.

‘Does he?’

Claire said nothing in response.

‘Thought as much.’ Chris narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Where were you both on Saturday? Dad and I came round to speak about Mandy, but you weren’t in.’

‘Not that it’s any of your business, but we were visiting my sister.’

Chris smirked. ‘Ah, the little damsel in distress. When will I get to meet this sister of yours? She should be thanking me in person, after all, for setting her free. Perhaps even let me have a bite, as thanks.’ He growled low.

‘You won’t be getting to meet her, ever.’ Loki said firmly as he walked up the corridor and stood behind Claire, putting his hands on her shoulders.

‘Oh come now, brother. She’s practically family now. It’s only fair to meet.’ Chris taunted.

‘Not going to happen. She’s been through enough, she doesn’t need to be meeting you as well.’ Loki snarled at him. ‘What did you and dad want anyway? Mandy’s fine.’

‘Dad is concerned that other vampires coming of age might be too forward going and get themselves into trouble, like Mandy. Without coming to any of us for help or advice.’

‘Of course it’s a concern, but I don’t see what we can do? Aside from continue to try and support them, guide them properly.’ Loki said.

‘Have you had this sort of problem before?’ Claire asked.

‘Not that I can recall.’ Loki hummed and Chris shook his head.

‘Why now then, why are they more feral than usual?’

‘Because it’s in our blood, it’s how they should be.’ Chris grumbled.

‘Not this bad, though.’ Loki argued.

‘Maybe it’s just a one off, if it’s just been Mandy so far.’ Claire said hopefully.

‘We will need to keep a close eye on them.’ Loki said, glad when Chris nodded in agreement.

It wasn’t just a one off, though.

Over the course of the following month, there was around nine more vampires that had newly come of age that got into trouble with their primal instincts taking over. Of those nine, six of them ended up getting injured, two had been fatal.

One evening, Loki was out on patrol around the city looking out for young vampires. Claire was at Loki’s place, surrounded by history books. Since the second student that couldn’t control their urges at all after Mandy, Claire had been determined to figure out what was going on. Since none of the other students previously had this issue.

She was in Loki’s office, Bat was lying on the desk beside her while she had multiple books open and pages scattered about.

‘It just doesn’t make sense, Bat. There must be something we’re missing. It’s not been an issue like this before, so why now? Why this year?’ Claire muttered as she pinched the bridge of her nose, she was starting to get a headache.

She hated seeing how it effected Loki, he was really down about it. The thought of the students in so much danger, just from humans this time. It was so risky, as they were also at risk of exposing vampires to the wrong kind of human. It would just be a matter of time. Plus, they didn’t know if this was happening world wide or if it was localised.

Claire sat back in the chair with a sigh. Bat stood up and had a big stretch, she let out a soft meow and walked across the books. She looked across the desk, then batted one of the books with her paws.

‘What is it, Bat?’ Claire laughed a little as she opened the book that she’d hit. It was the history of Demsdale.

Bat meowed again as Claire opened the book and flitted through it. She put it down and shrugged. ‘I’ve already been through this, Bat.’

Bat flicked at the pages, it then landed on page thirty-two. That had the story of the originals. Bat meowed again and pawed at the page incessantly.

‘What? I don’t understand.’ Claire whined, she was getting really tired now.

Claire looked at the page and read through it again. It wasn’t exactly the truth about what happened, but it wasn’t too far off it, overall. Whenever Claire put the book down, Bat yelled at her until she picked it up again, on that exact page.

‘Bat… please… There’s nothing in here that will help. The originals are all gone apart from Lucius and Chris. It makes sense originals being highly feral, even though Lucius has controlled it. I bet if Chris or Lucius were to have a child with another vampire, they would probably have strong feral instincts in their genes…’

Bat let out a little chirp and thumped her tail on the desk. Claire stared at Bat, who just stared back at her, not breaking eye contact.

‘Wait a minute…’ Claire pulled her phone out and sent a text to Chris.

I need your honesty. Were you fucking around fifteen to sixteen years ago?

Two minutes later, the doorbell rang. Bat jumped onto Claire’s shoulder and she went downstairs to go see who it was. She wasn’t overly surprised to find it was Chris stood there when she opened the door.

‘You better be glad I can’t enter without permission.’ Chris snarled at her.

Claire did take a small step backwards, just to be safe.

‘Got my text then, huh?’

‘How dare you text me something like that.’ Chris snapped.

‘What are you doing here?’ Loki barked at Chris as he rushed up the steps behind him. He grabbed his shoulder and hauled him to the side, so Loki could step inside and put himself between Chris and Claire.

‘Ask your girl that.’ Chris spat.

‘I need to know if Chris was fucking around with vampires fifteen years ago.’ Claire said, causing Loki’s eyebrows to nearly shoot up off his face.

‘What?’ Loki asked, utterly baffled.

Chris folded his arms over his chest, just glaring at Claire.

‘Please, just answer the question.’ Claire pleaded. Bat let out a yowl from her shoulder, she was staring at Chris, too.

‘So what if I did?’ Chris said defensively.

Claire ran a hand down her face. ‘Almost sixteen years ago… an original vampire mated with other vampires. If those female vampires got pregnant and gave birth, they would be vampires… with an original vampire’s genes. A strong feral urge that would come into play when they reach around fifteen or sixteen.’

Suddenly the penny dropped for Loki and Chris.

Loki looked at Chris, eyes wide while Chris suddenly looked incredibly sheepish.

‘I need to go.’ Chris said and turned around, but Loki grabbed his arm to stop him.

‘How many did you sleep with? Why? You made them cheat? You’ve got teenage kids! Did you know about this?’ Loki blurted out at him.

‘Of course I didn’t know.’ Chris hissed at him. ‘I was in a dark place sixteen years ago. So what if I did fuck around with a bunch of vampires?’

‘Oh my god.’ Loki ran a hand down his face. ‘How many more do we need to look out for?’

Chris faltered and shrugged. ‘Uhm… maybe around three more?’

‘You slept with thirteen vampires around the same time?’ Claire gasped.

Chris glanced at her and narrowed his eyes at her. ‘I did. They wanted it just as much as I did. Not getting what they wanted from their partners. It was only sex, who gives a shit.’ He hissed.

‘It wasn’t just sex though, was it? You’ve got a pack of vampire offspring in the city that have worse than your damn feral instincts! And two of them have died!’ Loki yelled at him.

For a split second, Chris did look pained but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

‘At least we now know the cause, that it’s not going to be every single new vampire.’ He grumbled, then headed off down the path, not wanting to hear another word from Loki or Claire.

‘I can’t believe this.’ Loki said as he went inside with Claire.

‘I’m surprised there’s been no STD’s spread around.’ Claire said as she pulled a face.

‘Vampires don’t get any, thankfully.’ Loki chuckled at her reaction.

‘He was in a dark place... What did he mean by that?’ Claire asked.

‘It was just under sixteen years ago that he turned me.’ Loki said after pausing. ‘He was no doubt angry, as usual. Needed to let out more frustrations.’ He shrugged.

Claire sighed as she followed Loki through to the living room, where they both sat down. ‘At least we do know now. We should speak to your dad, try and find out who the other three are before it’s too late.’

Loki nodded in agreement as he petted Bat, who’d made herself comfortable on his lap. He also put his arm around Claire, pulling her into his side.

‘How did you figure it out?’ Loki asked.

‘It’s Bat you need to thank. Not me.’ Claire said as she reached over to stroke her, too.

‘Really? Bat, you really are full of surprises!’ Loki laughed and scratched under Bat’s chin.

Bat looked pleased as punch as she purred away loudly, enjoying all of the fusses.

#tom hiddleston #loki #loki x ofc #fluffy loki #loki fic #chris motionless #the redbridge hunts

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auspicioustidings · 8 months

Text

The Eyes of God

Summary: You are a researcher separated from your group and hypothermic in the mountains. It would be better you had died than be taken into the remote Monastery nearby.

Words: 1.7k

CW: Catholic horror, non-con (for context there is oral sex that is very much unwanted, starts with reader unconscious so somnophilia), exploitation, non-con medical procedure, mentions of cannibalism.

Please be extremely mindful of the tags here, I am not messing around when I say this is horror. Alejandro and Rudy here are not going to be fun, attractive bad boys. I am being so dead ass when I say this is dark.

He sends out his command to the earth; his word runs swiftly. He gives snow like wool; he scatters frost like ashes. He hurls down his crystals of ice like crumbs; who can stand before his cold? Psalm 147:15-17

The blizzard had come without warning to steal away all of your senses. There was no sight but for the white in front of you, no sound but for the howling cold, no smell but that of ice, no taste but your own dry fear on your tongue and no feeling at all. How long had it been since you had been separated from your group? Seconds, days?

You knew the signs of hypothermia, had trained for the harsh conditions of this unexplored mountain, but your memories of it all scattered to the corners of your feebled mind as you shuffled slowly and aimlessly forward. Every step was a fight against an impossible foe, God like it it's strength. There was something in the white, a glow. You needed to reach it, you needed to reach it more than you needed oxygen.

Everything is too hot, you are burning.

Your nakedness shall be uncovered, and your disgrace shall be seen. I will take vengeance, and I will spare no one. Isaiah 47:3

"What have you brought before the eyes of God?" Alejandro asked of the man holding a naked figure tight to his chest.

"Wis hunting Father, as ye had asked" Soap replied, "found this woman naked in the snow."

Soap had found you as you started to tear at your clothes. He had watched. The temptations of the flesh had come unbidden to him, blood thickening his cock as your pale flesh met the deathly cold skin to air. It was kindness in the Lord's name to save you; at the Monastery they could cleanse you of this sin, of your whoredom. Make you clean so you could meet your end in a state of Grace. That was what he had told himself as he held you tight to his body, thinking if he could make you one flesh to save you from this cold he would.

"You've brought us something sinful Brother" Rudy said, emerging from the shadows and gazing hatefully at your nakedness.

"He has been righteous no Rudolfo? Something sinful is ripe for purification of the flesh and soul" Alejandro said, coming closer to run a hand up your arm and delighting in the coldness of your skin. A challenge from above he thought, sent to them on the brink of death to bring back and make whole.

"Of course Alejandro. Leave her here then, that we may make her well first."

Soap did not want to leave you with them. He knew that the Fathers could be cruel to sinners, they were so very cruel to him. He knew it was to serve a greater purpose. The unworthy and sinful must endure mortification of the flesh. But you were so soft and delicate in his arms, so decidedly feminine in comparison to everyone here. Did Adam feel like this when he willingly ate the sin offered by Eve?

"By one man's disobedience the many were made sinners. Is this pride Brother? Alejandro, perhaps we should call upon Ghost, ensure this is not able to spread as a sickness."

Soap felt the holy fear of God then. He loved Ghost as David had loved Jonathan, the covenant between them unselfish and everlasting. He felt at his most tested when he was called to watch him be purified. The last time Soap had disobeyed, the Fathers had hung Ghost on a hook and in the end taken a rib as God had taken Adam's rib. Only Ghost had not been deeply asleep as Adam had. His anguish had been loud and still tormented Soap even now after the place had been closed up with flesh.

He looked down at you, your eyes slowly blinking now that there was heat infusing into your skin. Perhaps this is what the Fathers had done with that rib, created another test for him. He laid you gently, reverently, on the alter.

"There now, it is not pride Rudolfo, merely care. By one man's obedience the many will be made righteous. You may go Soap, go to Ghost and pray."

Soap bowed his head in thanks before leaving. Ghost would be preparing his catch by now, no doubt he would have followed orders exactly and hunted down your group properly unlike him in his weakness for you. The Fathers had been diligent in teaching Ghost Genesis 9:2-3 after all.

So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great things. How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire. James 3:5

The first thing you felt was pain, followed swiftly by panic. You blinked rapidly then slowly, willing your brain to connect properly to your optic nerve and process where you were.

Staring at the ceiling. You felt your body on a hard surface, you were laying down. There was an unbearable pain in your chest and as you tipped your head forward to look you started to whine on each of your quick exhales, terrified. There was a tube piercing into your flesh, liquid flowing through it. The pain was dull and throbbing. You were completely naked, your skin illuminated and glowing from the hundreds of candles surrounding the alter you were laid on.

And then the true horror of it, two men dressed in the garb of priests, lapping languidly between your legs.

The third feeling was the perverse pleasure that came from their tongues on you. The animalistic sounds of wet lapping against slick folds. Your body did not feel like your own, your movements sluggish and heavy against your commands. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope and trying to see the original image, a sickly feeling of futility. Still, you stubbornly willed your panic to aid you and focused on lifting a hand to push away the men.

One of them lifted his head, chin dripping with you. In your delirium you swore his eyes were fully black, his teeth sharp and oozing ichor. Perhaps in any other scenario he would be handsome, a young man looking at you from between your legs. But not this one, not in the scenario where your hand finally reached his head to give a weak and pathetic push. Not in the scenario where he grabbed your wrist and twisted so hard it made you forget the pain in your chest.

"And if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off" he said, his voice ricocheting off of your skull and echoing there. It was too loud, too quiet, too soft, too rough. "Is that you yearn for? For me to relief you of your sin?"

You cried then, knowing deep inside you from his smooth grin that he would cut pieces off of you and consider it holy.

You are in a nightmare and you cannot wake up.

The hand dropped away to your side, terrified into submission. He went back to his task and now that you were conscious the rough texture against your clit made you want to throw up. You hated that it distracted from everything, that it felt good. Perhaps it was because the two of them were so close to one another in their efforts, but it felt like something wet and forked against you.

Maybe you could see salvation if you looked around, something to focus on other than the twisted flesh of your body and the twisted pleasure given by those pressed against it. Instead your eyes only landed on figures in the shadows.

Two men. One older and one younger. Looking on with something between horror and eroticism. The younger of them set his eyes to the ground when you caught them and sobbed out for some sort of help. The other took him by the scruff of the neck, pressing a forehead to his and mumbling something about Peter 5:8. After a moment they both returned to watching in silence. You could see it in them, the same fear you felt. The fear of something judging and all powerful bearing down.

It was as if the men lapping at you knew of your fear, as if they took pleasure in those who feared them. Their clever tongues were all at once precise and messy, forcing your body to ascend to a peak your mind found repulsive.

You came like it was written in scripture that you must; inevitable, horrific and erotic all the same.

"There now, warmed by the light of the Lord" came a voice. You felt your eyes move to the source against your will, seeing the second man now and feeling a primal fear at his face, blacked out with a golden painted skull catching the light. Below his chin was smudged obscenely.

He reached up and for a moment you thought he might caress you gently. In your state, you felt greed for such a gesture. The noise that left you was inhuman as he pulled the tube from your chest.

"Brother Price, fix up our guest and take her to her cell won't you?"

Price did as he was told, Gaz in tow. He wondered what name they would give a thing like you. You would be quick to learn the ways of this place he thought, not like him or the others. It had taken so much to redeem them into something that might see the Grace of the Almighty one day. He did not want that for you. He knew with certainty that Gaz did not either, the man had nearly went into a state of sin watching you. Price knew better than to feel anything like Pride, but at the very least he was pleased that he had been able to stop him from going to you for comfort.

It was such a wicked thought, but in his heart he felt it would have been better for you had Soap taken you for meat rather than for saving. It was a difficult and painful thing, being saved by the Fathers here.

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Peter 5:8

But the one who endures to the end will be saved. Matthew 24:13

#cod #cod au #fanfic #dark fic #alejandro vagas x reader #rudolfo parra x reader #catholic horror #cw religion #los vaqueros x reader #I have had a bottle of red wine and am unhinged this evening #like I am not expected anyone to vibe with this but just let me be feral for a minute #please read the cws #I am being so serious #read the cws #mhairiwrites

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durrtydawg · 8 months

Note

hey gorl! idk how cereal you were about headcanons, but can i request something domestic? like what the uncharted boys are like when they're at home and not treasure hunting for once? (can be as clean/dirty as you like hehe)

Hey lovely! Thanks for waiting for so long, and sorry if this isn't what you had in mind, but I've spewed some domestic Sam headcanons into my notes that I think about too often. A lot of them are very random, so if you want something more specific, please let me know 👹❤️

I started writing Nate, too, but honestly, if you want some good Nate hcs, you should ask @nathandrakeisabottom bc she's gonna have them done to a T.

[Masterlist]

Without further ado,

Domestic Sam Drake Headcanons...

Sam likes to rotate his 'at-home wardrobe' between two pairs of ill-fitting jeans, raglan shirts, the odd henley, and a fuck tonne of minimalistic graphic tees with references that he has no clue about. Boots are abandoned for trainers. (- sneakers, for those who are anglo-challenged)

If it's cold-cold, he adds his trusty sherpa-plaid shirt combo.

If it's hot-hot, he opts for his slutty vests and perhaps some track shorts if he's feeling... frisky.

And fucking baseball caps. He wears them lots, and he wears them well. I do NOT make the rules.

Whenever the weather is good, Sam is outside working on his bike. Whether he's cleaning it, fixing it up, or just revving it for the attention, he'll be out there in aforementioned slutty little vest, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, tinkering away because he can't sit still for long at all.

When the weather isn't good, he's miserable. As soon as Winter rolls around, he contracts at least one cold a month, and whilst he gets surprisingly over dramatic about it, he also refuses to take any meds for it. Stubborn man.

Untidy- but never unclean. Being stuck in that grotty old prison for so long, it's clear that Sam wants nothing to remind him of his disgusting cell. He always cleans up after himself in terms of dirt and grime, BUT he's also become a bit of a hoarder, which also makes wherever he lives constantly untidy. Books, ugly little ornaments, and also clothes that he buys and never wears are scattered all over the place.

The idea of owning his own stuff remains seemingly overwhelming; he grows attached to whatever he gets his hands on because he's lived for so long without things of his own.

Continuing down the cleanliness route, Sam takes the longest showers you could imagine. The warmth? The privacy? They'll forever be luxuries to him that he wants to take complete advantage of.

Uses some sort of 250 in 1 body wash/shampoo/car brake fluid concoction, and is in complete refusal of the fact that he needs anything else... though once or twice his intrigue and thieving nature have gotten the better of him, and he's left the bathroom with an oddly feminine aroma that's dangerously similar to the scent of whatever it is his partner's using. Not that he'd ever use a girl's body wash.

Sam whistles around the house. A lot. Also sings quietly to himself throughout the day. He keeps it hushed, mostly, but for some reason, he thinks the shower is soundproof. Lucky for any cohabitors, he's got a pretty good set of pipes on him, and it's actually really sweet. ('We Didn't Start the Fire' by Billy Joel is one of his go-to's. He definitely brags about his ability to remember all of the words.)

He's a dab hand in the kitchen. Well. Sometimes. Sam's got a selection of about three dishes that he makes to Michelin star standard. Other than that he's fucking useless, which can be frustrating since he eats like an animal. Guys of his stature need fuel!

Many times has a frozen lasagna or a teaspoon that's been absentmindedly left in the microwave ended up almost burning the house down. Though, his mind is always in about six places at once, so you can't really blame the poor guy.

But those that he's good at? He's really good at. It's not often that he can be found in the kitchen with a tea towel strewn over his shoulder, four different pots and pans bubbling away on the stove, whilst he bops his head along to a crackly radio station, but when he is? You know you're in for a treat.

He can't scramble eggs for shit (he does it in the microwave and insists it tastes fine💀 it does not.) but can poach 'em good. Expect eggs benedict in the morning, or banana pancakes if you've got a sweet tooth. Not the type to eat brekkie? You are now.

Speaking of breakfast in bed:

Morning 👏 sex. Like... more than any other time of day. Sam wakes up with insane levels of energy in the morning, and the first two hours of his day are more productive than the other twenty-two combined. So if he's not out for a morning jog (eugh.) or busy finding out what recipe he wants to try out for breakfast, he's got it in you. End of. Perhaps you used to grumble about the time... but he's got a thing for your early-am laziness, and you've probably woken up with his head between your thighs more times than you can count. I suppose that feeds in to the somnoph1lia he's most definitely privy to.

That, of course, is not to say that he's exclusively into morning sex.

Is verrrry cuddly with partners when they're visiting or living together. Sam craves touch, so even if it's not a super committed relationship, lingering shoulder squeezes, resting his chin on your head whilst his arms are wrapped around your middle, and gentle strokes to the small of the back are staples- half the time he doesn't even realise he's doing them.

Overall, he’s one handsy bastard, and at his cockiest will take any opportunity he can to smack, squeeze, and even bite your ass if it's convenient enough, offering you nothing but a complacent grin when you try to snap at him. Best you save your moaning for the bedroom. He knows you love it.

Hear me out. He has a weird fascination with teleshopping channels. Not because he wants to buy any of it. Moreso because he enjoys criticising some of the ridiculous stuff they try to flog on there. With a mouthful of cereal, he'll be mocking whatever poor sod has a slot to sell their item, calling you to come and watch in hopes that you find it just as ludicrous as he does.

With TV in general, he has a very stereotypical 'dad' stance on it. Does the whole "what's this crap you're watching? Don't you wanna do something more productive with your day?", only to be glued to the screen within minutes, asking about characters and plot alike.

Unfortunately, this also includes Hallmark Christmas movies.

Sam loves loves LOVES 90's-00's british sitcoms (And no, that's not self-indulgent). I genuinely believe he would binge watch Father Ted and Peep Show happily, especially because he enjoys satire and absorbs the dry sense of humour like a happy sponge. He'd try to impress you with the accent too. Doesn't work.

Falls asleep on the sofa more than anywhere. Since he's often up at the crack of dawn, as soon as 5pm rolls around, he's yawning and 'resting his eyes'. That, and the fact that he finds it hard to get to sleep in bed unless he's totally fucked out. Something about being left alone with nothing but the view of the ceiling and his thoughts makes it difficult for him to switch off. Trauma, eh?

When he does sleep, though, he's precious. Definitely fidgets throughout the night, waking up all stiff because he's been in all sorts of weird positions. He doesn't snore... but he definitely mumbles in his sleep. And it's always nonsense.

Never plans a big groceries run. Sam's trips to the supermarket are solely made on an ad hoc basis, and every time he returns with something that definitely wasn't on the list, i.e. he'll go out to buy pasta but returns with a novelty kitchen timer shaped like a lemon, and a new wooden spoon because he doesn't like the turmeric stains on his current one.

Big porch dweller. Will idle away the hours smoking on his porch or balcony when he's exhausted all of his other options, and will draw little smiley faces on the railings with the burnt out end of the cigarette before throwing it away. Awh.

#sam drake #samuel drake #hehe asks #sam drake x reader #sam drake headcanons #uncharted

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steam-beasts · 8 months

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Fun Game Concept!

So as you know, Choo Choo charles is a open-world game that has you constantly being hunted down by a man-eating steam engine monster while also gathering enough upgrades and weapons to kill it. Well, I just thought...

...what if it was on Sodor and the monsters were the ttte characters we know and love?

The game would take place after BWBA (but better), and would be followed up as a sequel to my TATMR, which I'm currently writing. There would also be a few elements from Security Breach, which would involve you getting collectibles or weapons that would benefit the player independently, having to sneak through certain areas.

The Story

It's been years since Lily and Patch, along with Mr Conductor had saved Lady and her magic railroad from doom. Both are now young adults when Lily gets a strange letter from her grandpa, asking for help. She decides to see what's going on and Patch tags along for the sake of it. One thing leads to another and the two find themselves on Sodor again.

But something's wrong. The engines have transformed into beast-like creatures, attacking anyone they see on sight. Mr Conductor and the two soon reunite and are enlisted to help find a cure to stop the insanity. Along the way, Lily and Patch must dodge, weave, stun and defend themselves from the horrors of Sodor!

Gameplay + tutorial

In this (not real) ttte horror game, in the first segment, you play as Mr Conductor.

Mr Conductor is who you play as for the tutorial and the rest of the segment. The tutorial involves you learning how to collect items, sneak through areas where engines are roaming and how to shoot/throw and distract enemies using the environment around you. The location of this tutorial is on Misty Island, and the tutorial uses the location as an advantage to help the player be able to navigate through foggy or dark areas without a flashlight.

The three main antagonists for the tutorial are the Logging locos (they seem fitting for baby-step missions) who are always gonna be patrolling the Logging station and beach.

For the rest of the segment, Mr Conductor is tasked with helping around the camps that are inhabited by most of the Sodor residents. Here are the tasks;

1# Reach the other end of the Logging station without being spotted (tutorial begins here)

2# Find the storage hut to store the fish

3# Talk to Ruth

4# Collect 10 peices of jobi wood around the camp to help Ruth build the handcar

5# Give the wood to Ruth

6# Talk to the three railway controllers

7# Find Junior

8# Use the handcar and go to Sodor

Collectibles

Scattered around the island are a total of 13 wooden sculptures of the engines. They can be found in areas that are linked the most to them.

The Thomas sculpture can be located in the mines, a call back to Down the Mine.

The Percy sculpture can be found hanging off the edge of a dilapidated truck, a somewhat reference to Percy's Predicament.

The Edward sculpture can be located at the back of his old berth at Tidmouth Sheds. This is a reference to Edward's Day Out.

Style

The game would have ps1-style graphics and the environment is really dark to increase uneasiness for the player.

The engines

The engines are the enemies of the game. They don't have any dialogue as they've all gone nearly fully insane and feral, practically animals at this point. So good luck begging them to stop, your pleas will fall on deaf ears.

But they're not evil! They're just hungry...I promise. The hunger is strong, so powerful that it hurts. They are just as innocent as you...

The engines are so hungry that they don't want a friendly chat. You smell...so good, every fleshy creature they find smells so sweet...so divine...so delicious. Looks like you've got some massive mouths to feed, Sir.

They stalk around the darkness, looking for something to eat, somewhere to sleep, somewhere to be free. Sodor has recently been gathering a lot of dark clouds, making everywhere dark, but they don't mind at all. Too much brightness hurts their eyes.

You'll know who and where they are, just listen for the blast of a whistle or the honk of a horn.

#thomas and friends #thomas the tank engine #monster engines #tatmr #choo choo charles #ps1 aesthetic #ps1 graphics #fun game idea #mr conductor #tatmr junior #lily stone #tatmr patch #ttte sir topham hatt #ttte ruth

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anime-simp0125 · 2 months

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Gon Freecss and Killua Zoldyck with a bullied S/O

Hope this helps!

Gon Freecss-

Now Gon wouldn’t be very happy with this I mean he wouldn’t to be able to even understand why anyone would want to do this! Now Gon is very friendly as we know yet he can be very protective when needed. This is one of those moments when he’s protective. Now Gon would still try to be kind and handle this without violence but if needed he will use force and of course he will comfort you in the most sweet way.

-little story-

Gon Freecss sat alone in his room, staring out the window with a heavy heart. He had been feeling uneasy for the past few days, and he couldn't quite put his finger on why. He rubbed his temples, trying to push away the nagging feeling, but it only seemed to grow stronger. It wasn't until he received a call from his best friend, Killua, that the pieces started to fall into place. Killua told him about a recent incident at school – Gon's lover, [Name], had been bullied by a group of students and had kept it a secret from everyone, including Gon. Gon felt like his world had been turned upside down. He couldn't understand why [Name] would hide such a serious matter from him. He thought they were supposed to be able to talk to each other about anything, especially something as important as being bullied. Without a second thought, Gon grabbed his backpack and rushed out of the house, determined to find [Name]. He knew they would usually spend their afternoons studying at the library, so that was the first place he headed. Sure enough, he found [Name] sitting at a table, a pile of books scattered in front of them. But upon closer inspection, Gon could see the sadness in their eyes, the bruises on their arms, and the way they were trying to hide their face from him.'Hey,' Gon said softly as he took a seat next to [Name]. [Name] looked up at him, their eyes widening in surprise. 'G-Gon? What are you doing here?' 'I came to see you,' Gon replied, his voice taking on a more serious tone. 'Why didn't you tell me what happened?' [Name] looked away, their expression pained. 'I...I didn't want to bother you. It's not that big of a deal.' Gon shook his head, a mix of anger and concern bubbling up inside him. 'It is a big deal, [Name]. You were hurt and you didn't tell anyone. You didn't even tell me.'[Name] fell silent, their hands nervously fiddling with the hem of their shirt. 'I didn't want you to worry. I know how much you have going on in your life already.'Gon's heart swelled with love for [Name]. They were always so selfless, always putting others before themselves. But this time, Gon couldn't let them carry the burden alone.'You don't have to face this alone, [Name],' he said firmly. 'I may have a lot going on, but that doesn't mean I won't make time for you. I'll always make time for you.'[Name] looked up at him, tears brimming in their eyes. 'I'm sorry, Gon. I should have told you.'Gon reached out and took [Name]'s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. 'It's okay. We'll face this together. 'And that's exactly what they did. Gon made sure to talk to the school about the bullying and made sure [Name] felt safe and supported. He also made a point to spend more time with [Name], making sure they knew that they were loved and not alone. As they sat together at the library, studying and enjoying each other's company, Gon couldn't help but feel grateful for the strong connection they shared. They may have faced a bump in the road, but their love for each other was unshakable. And that was all that mattered to Gon.

Killua Zoldyck

HAHAHA someone dare bully’s his S/O YEAH NO- this man will not let that happen for long. The moment he finds out about this he’s gonna hunt the kid(s) DOWN. Like i can promise you they will not be alive much longer unless you convince him not to kill them.

-little story-

Killua Zoldyck was known for his sharp mind, quick reflexes, and deadly assassin skills. However, there was one thing that he cherished above all else - his lover. They had been through countless dangerous adventures together, facing off against powerful enemies and overcoming challenges as a team. But there was one thing that Killua never expected to encounter - his lover being bullied. As the news reached Killua's ears, he felt a sudden surge of anger and protectiveness overwhelm him. How could anyone dare to hurt his precious partner? Without a moment of hesitation, he rushed to their side, determined to put an end to the bullying once and for all. When he finally arrived, he found his lover sitting alone in a corner, their usual cheerful demeanor replaced with a look of sadness and dejection. Killua's heart clenched at the sight, knowing that his lover was going through something difficult and didn't tell him. 'Hey,' he said softly, kneeling down in front of them. 'What happened?' At first, his lover was hesitant to tell him, but Killua's gentle and reassuring presence convinced them to open up. They explained how a group of students had been picking on them for weeks, making hurtful comments and stealing their belongings. Despite trying to ignore it, it had taken a toll on their confidence and self-esteem. Killua felt a mixture of rage and guilt wash over him. Rage towards the bullies and guilt for not noticing his lover's struggles sooner. He wanted to hunt down those responsible and make them pay, but he knew that it wouldn't solve the problem. Instead, he took his lover's hand in his and made a promise. 'I won't let anyone hurt you like this again. From now on, we'll face this together. You don't have to go through it alone.' And true to his word, Killua stood by his lover's side every step of the way. He made sure to be extra vigilant and protect his lover from any further harm. He also taught them self-defense techniques, empowering them to stand up for themselves. But most importantly, Killua showed his lover unwavering love and support. He reminded them that they were strong and capable, and that the bullies were just insecure people looking for a target. Slowly but surely, his lover's confidence began to return. It wasn't an easy journey, and there were still moments when Killua's lover would feel down. But knowing that they had each other's backs, they were able to overcome any obstacle that came their way. In the end, Killua's fierce protectiveness and unwavering love had not only helped his lover stand up to the bullies but also strengthened their relationship. They had faced yet another challenge together and emerged even stronger as a couple. From that day on, Killua made a promise to always be there for his lover, no matter what.

#anime #killua hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter x y/n #gon freecss #killua x y/n #killua x you #killua x reader #hxh killua

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andreafmn · 1 year

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In the Heat of the Moment | Part 3

Word Count: 5K

Pairing: Jake Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader, mentioned Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Story Description: Every month female Omatikayans go through their heat whilst men go through their rut. It’s a time for mates to engage in the most animalistic desires. But when one of the two is gone, it can be a rather painstaking endeavor. With Neteyam gone on a hunting trip, (Y/N) has to go through her heat alone for the first time. Or does she?

Warnings: SMUT (+18, minors DNI), infidelity, p in v sex, public sex, semi-public sex, edging

All characters are of age/over 18

A/N: I’m so excited about this one-shot turned series and I'm glad so many of you enjoy it as well! All other parts have been laid out, all I've gotta do is write them jijiji 🤭 but you'll be getting them soon. Once I'm finished with this series, I think I'll be able to get to my others. My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing🥺👉👈. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Dedicated to @sweetllamaparadise! If you thought you had a surprise coming back to part 2, here's part 3 😜

Follow 😊 -> TikTok • Instagram • Business

If you’d like to be tagged in any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

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In the Heat of the Moment | Part 3

It wasn’t right. None of it was. And it shouldn’t have felt like it could be.

But entangled in each other’s arms, their bodies as close as possible, that was how it felt like.

In dreams, everything felt possible. Under the safe shade of slumber, nothing could ever be wrong. She felt warm and protected, comforted under the idea that everything was as it should have been.

Alas, dreams end the second one wakes.

“Did you hear that?” (Y/N) startled awake, her body shooting up at the possibility of someone lurking outside. “Ma Jake!”

His eyes fluttered, exhaustion still weighing on them. Until he too heard what had woken her up. On the outside of the tent, a branch had snapped. This could have easily been gravity’s fault, but it could indicate that someone was approaching and could witness the depravity that had gone down inside (Y/N)’s and Neteyam’s marital nest.

They scrambled to cover themselves, tying their loincloths around their waists, and the girl scattered to dress in a poncho Kiri had gifted her after her rite of passage ceremony — the same night she had been mated to Neteyam. It was a tighter knit than the one the Sully daughter wore and, paired with the necklace her husband had woven for her, it was sure to hide the purple marks that were scattered across her body.

Her heart tightened as she dressed in gifts from her husband and sister-in-law. There she was, trying to hide the aftermath of a crazed morning with Jake using presents his own children had given her. A reminder of the people who would truly get hurt if their entanglement was ever discovered.

Footsteps got closer to (Y/N)’s nest, leaves crunching under their feet. The sound made her heart punishing, loud enough she could hear it in their fluttering ears. The steps were getting closer. Too close. Close enough they would find Jake and the wife of his son together.

Then, they disappeared. It was merely someone passing by. No one had been eavesdropping or spying on them. Just a clan member walking.

“That was close,” Jake chuckled before hugging the shaking girl. “Probably shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

“Sleep wasn’t the problem, Jake. It was everything else,” she worried. “We need to talk about this. Talk about putting a stop to…”

Jake didn’t want to have that conversation, at least not at that moment. He wanted to savor the moment, savor her for the time he could. “Tonight,” he responded, interrupting her sentence. “We can talk tonight. After dinner.”

“Jake…”

“After dinner.” He made his way to the entrance, stopping at the flap to gift her a smile before exiting. “I promise. Just go about your day, baby girl. We’ll talk later.”

He left a second later, leaving (Y/N) reeling and confused. A million thoughts were running through her head, mostly how everything she had done would devastate the people she loved the most. It was bad enough that she had been unfaithful to her husband, but she could ruin two families because she had made a bad decision.

A bad decision that made her feel so good. A choice that made her thrilled and terrified all at the same time. It filled her with an excitement that took over her completely, body and mind. An overwhelming sensation that clouded all reason.

She was questioning everything, her head drowning in thoughts as she made her way to Mo’at’s tent for her studies. (Y/N) could barely reciprocate the hellos people threw her way as she walked by, too entranced by the thoughts in her mind.

“What is troubling your mind, child?” Mo’at broke her out of her trance, the mixture she had to turn into a paste already past its state. “You have been distracted these past few days.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she responded. She could not leave any space for interpretation. If anyone could read words unsaid, it would be her Tsahik. “I guess I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I think I know why.” (Y/N)’s heart pounded against her chest. Had it been her outside her tent? Could it be that Neytiri’s mother had witnessed her daughter’s husband sleeping with his daughter-in-law? “Your heart is uneasy. You are missing your husband. I know this is the first time he’s been away for so long.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “I am missing Neteyam. It’s weird to wake up and not have him there.” Because she was waking up with someone else. “I know seven days is not much, but I’ve always been with him every day for years. I feel like I am going insane without him.”

“Love does make one crazy,” Mo’at chuckled. “It is okay to miss your husband, my child. It is only natural that you’re uneasy when the one you love is away. But your connection with Neteyam is unbreakable. No matter how far he is, or you are, you and that child are always bound to one another. Through Eywa, your souls will forever be affixed together.”

“That is true,” she forced a smile. Though her words were meant to be comforting, they only helped to tighten the coil in her heart. It reminded her of the abominable actions she had participated in. “I just have to hold on for four more days.”

“It is okay to miss Neteyam. Let your heart ache for your husband.” She reached over and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s chest. “Your heart is strong and it calls for him to be near. When you love someone so much even seconds can feel like an eternity when they are far.”

“It makes me feel weak,” (Y/N) confessed. “If I can’t handle him being away for seven days. What will happen if he needs to be away longer? If – Eywa forbid – the sky-people come back and he has to defend our people on long missions? Will I become crazed and reckless?” More than she already had?

“Pray Eywa that day never comes, ‘eveng. But you’ve only been married a year, and you’ve spent your whole life with Neteyam by your side” Mo’at continued. “In time, that twinge in your heart will become easier and easier to bear. When he comes back, talk to him. You’ll find ways to cope with his absence, together. You are a unit now, (Y/N). Bonded, mind, body, and soul, in this life and after.”

“I needed to hear that, ma Mo’at. Irayo si.”

“If you ever need someone to talk to, ʼeveng, know I am here for you,” the woman smiled. “My door is always open for you. No matter what.”

If only she knew. “Thank you,” (Y/N) answered. “I promise to try my hardest to docs on my work. No more liquified mixtures.”

“It’s quite alright, ʼeveng. Kiri made enough yesterday. We can work on something else today.”

Hours passed quickly as (Y/N) put her worries aside and chose to focus on her work. She concentrated on the ingredients before her to make healing ointments, the fabrics they used to wrap wounds, and pushed Jake deep in her head.

And everything was perfectly fine whilst she was safe in the confines of her tsahik’s tent. There she did not have to worry about Jake and his beguiling allure, did not have to worry about his children finding out about them, and definitely did not have to worry about how much she was hurting Neteyam. She could be as oblivious and carefree as she needed to be.

It was easy to ignore her reality when curtained walls separated her from the real world. But time waited for no one, and the sun had started to set signaling the end of her work day. The moment had come to face Jake Sully and his children.

As she walked to the Sully family tent, (Y/N) busied herself by chewing the inside of her cheek. There was no need to be nervous, she thought. Eating meals with the family was something she had done for years. Nothing new.

She could hear their voices from the other side of the tent, sibling squabbles and a reprimanding father. That was their normal, the family she belonged to.

“(Y/N)!!” Tuk exclaimed as the woman walked through the entrance. Forgetting whatever argument she has been involved in with Lo’ak, the younger girl ran to her sister-in-law and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too, Tuk,” she smiled. “But I’m here now, and I am starving.”

She looked around the room. Everyone had taken their place around the table, there was only one space available.

“Here, (Y/N),” Jake smirked. “I saved you a seat.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. There was no plausible excuse not to sit next to him that wouldn’t reveal their complicated relationship. Especially not when Sully’s children held expectant smiles on their faces. Her only choice was to take the place next to Jake.

There wasn’t much space to keep a comfortable distance from the older man. She crossed her legs as she sat next to him, her knee pressed to the skin of his thigh. Warmth spreading through where their bodies touched. Only a grade of their skin, and had already started affecting her.

It shouldn’t have rippled through her the way it had, least of all in front of the family. Still, she couldn’t help the theater that started to pool between her legs. She couldn’t stop the way it coursed through her and filled her with wanton anticipation.

“I’m glad you’ve joined us, (Y/N),” Kiri commented as the girl settled next to Jake. “I know how hard these couple of days have been for you. We all miss Neteyam, but I know it’s worse for you.”

“I don’t miss him,” Lo’ak grinned. “He could stay away for longer if he wanted.”

“Lo’ak,” his sister reprimanded. “He doesn’t mean that. Lo’ak is just jealous Nete got to go on the hunting trip and he didn’t.”

“You still have much to learn, son,” Jake interjected. “And we all know your brother is more experienced in hunting. Soon enough you’ll be able to go on these trips with your mother. For now, it’s Neteyam that helps train the young ones.”

At the mention of her husband’s name, his father placed a hand on (Y/N)’s thigh. Her heart raced and her body tensed. It was a mindless move, too daring to do in front of his family. But he continued to move it higher and higher across the valley of her skin

To her, it was a brash touch. A careless decision on his part. To him, it was calculated. He was testing her reactions. Jake wanted to see just how far he could take it before she broke. Test how long she could keep herself composed before she was pleading to him to take her. The daringness of doing it in front of his family only worked to add to the thrill of the moment.

“But I know (Y/N) here missed Neteyam just a bit more than all of us,” Jake said. His hand was centimeters away from her core, reaching for her heat slowly. One more slide and his pinkie could slide under her loincloth, shielded by their table. ‘I’m sure it’s just as much as I miss Neytiri. Everything is difficult when your mate is away. One day you’ll all understand that.”

“At least you still got us, (Y/N),” Lo’ak chuckled. “We’ll keep you busy until Neteyam comes back.”

His boyish behavior helped the ache in her body, grounding her in the reality of the moment. She grasped Jake’s hand before it could get any closer, giving it a warning squeeze. This couldn’t happen. Not here.

But Jake was nothing but persistent. He escaped (Y/N)’s grasp and continued his exploration. His hand pushed her loincloth aside and found her wetness. Just like he knew she’d be, she was drenched.

“Exactly, son,” he smirked. He had gathered her slick and started teasing the bundle of nerves between her legs. (Y/N)’s hand gripped his wrist tightly, trying with all of her might to push him away. But his determination was stronger than her will. “We’re here for whatever you need, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) forced a painful smile to share with the family, her strength reserved to hide the fact that their father was touching her under the table and sending waves of pleasure through her body. His fingers caressed her clit, alternating speeds to tease the girl. It was a game to him, and he wanted to enjoy every second of it.

The family continued eating and chattering, focused on their sibling quarrels and the spread before them. (Y/N) tried her best to focus as well, adding commentary here and there, and munching on the food before her. But her concentration fell into swallowing down moans and groans as Jake continued his attack. He brought her close enough to her peak, only to remove his hands and bring her down. Simply to ambush her again and repeat the process.

Yet, her body was starting to betray her. She had to hold her over-excited tail, keep her ears from fluttering, and steady her breathing as best as she could. She felt like a bubble filling and filling with air, threatening to burst at any point. And Jake did nothing more but smirk the whole time.

The music was building inside her. The crescendo of another orgasm reaching its limit. Jake could already tell. He had started to learn her tells, how her body spoke when they were together. He pressed on. The circling of her clit grew faster and faster, gathering her essence to glide over it easily.

His ministrations siphoned a moan from her as he allowed her to finish… right there… in front of the family. Thankfully, she was quick enough to hide it with a loud cough, throwing her head forward and hiding it with one of her arms.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Tuk questioned, passing her a cup of water.

“Uh, just fine,” (Y/N) smiled. They were all oblivious to what their father had done as he placed a concerned mask on his face. “Food just went down the wrong pipe.”

Jake removed his hand from between her legs, using it to pat her on the back. If there was one thing he was good at, it was functioning perfectly under pressure.

He made sure the fingers he’d placed on her didn’t make contact with her skin. After pretending he was helping her, he made sure she was watching as he placed those same digits into his mouth. His face contorted in pleasure as he savored her taste on his fingers.

“I know the food is good, but you gotta be careful, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “Is it me or is this the sweetest utumauti we’ve ever had?”

“Must be yours dad,” Lo’ak answered. “Mine taste like always.”

“You might be right, son. Might be mine.”

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. With everyone keeping their hands to themselves, (Y/N) found the remnant of her time there comforting. Being around the family always made her feel elated. Having lost her mother at a young age and her father a few years back, the Sullys had taken her under their wing, in more ways than one.

She was saying her goodbyes to the Tuk after agreeing to spend the next day with Kiri and Lo’ak once her duties were completed when she felt Jake’s figure behind her. He towered over her, the warmth from his body reaching her without a single touch.

“Alright, gang. I’m gonna take (Y/N) back to her tent,” Jake announced to his family, only he and (Y/N) knew the intent behind his words. “Then, I have some things I have to do. Might end up crashing on a snonivi to not wake you guys. Don’t wait up, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” they all chorused.

The name sent shivers through (Y/N)’s body. The same name she had moaned against his ear as he filled her. It was a sign of respect from the children, but it was a filthy name she got to call him.

They walked in silence to her nest, careful of their steps. The night had already crept around the village and many peacefully slept. The sounds of a few people talking mixed with the whistling of the wind filled the gaps in the quiet, not many were still awake. The air was warm and comfortable laced with something (Y/N) couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Until Jake pushed her against a tree in a secluded area that is.

Her skin was buzzing as Jake kissed her roughly, his hand gripping at her waist as he pushed her deeper into the tree. The bark was rough against the skin of her back, leaving red and angry scratches on her back. She held onto his neck, needing any support to stabilize her body against the attack.

“Jake,” she struggled out. His lips focused only on hers. “Ma Jake, we can’t do this here.”

“There’s no one around, baby girl,” he groaned in her ear. He took her hand and guided it onto the hardened member that was tenting his loincloth. “I can’t wait. I don’t wanna wait.”

“Anyone could catch us. Rutxe, ma Jake. We’re almost there.”

“I want you here and now, (Y/N).” His tone was menacing, but not threatening. He was establishing dominance, he was showing her who was the one calling the shots. “And I know you do too. Remember I can smell you, baby girl. I know you didn’t get enough at dinner.”

A whimper left her mouth as Jake snaked his hand between her legs, witnessing what he had already done to her. She was putty in his hands. A single touch had her knee buckling, her hands gripping tightly onto his arms. He pushed his fingers into her, stretching her out without much preamble. No gentleness, no decorum.

He thrust quickly into her, curling the tip of his three fingers to attack her bundle nerves from the inside as his thumb worked it from the outside. It was an onslaught of pleasure to her body that had her biting down on her lower lip to camouflage the moans that threatened to spill out.

Her arousal mixed with the danger of not only being caught with Jake, but being caught out in the open with him. She should not have been that excited to have her father-in-law’s fingers inside her whilst any clan member, even his own children, could catch them in the act. Adrenaline, cortisol, and the strongest fervor ransacked her body.

Jake felt her walls clenching around him as his pace quickened, his fingers chasing her climax. His yellow eyes were focused on her face. Her tightly shut eyes, the red hue that overtook her blue skin, her lowered ears, and the droplet of blood that had formed from biting her lip.

He knew she wanted to scream and yell out just how good he could make her feel. And he wished he could hear her. He wanted nothing more than to have her moans fill his ears, her whines and whimpers making them flicker. Instead, he crashed his lips onto her, his tongue licking across her bottom one. Pressed against him, she let out her sounds, muffled into his mouth.

She came around his fingers, wrapping her arms around his neck as she felt her body grow weak. Out there, where anyone could see, she had orgasmed with her chief’s fingers buried deep inside her.

“I know you’re not yet spent,” he chuckled against her. “You’ve got more in you, baby girl.”

He flipped her over, pressing her chest onto the tree. His hands roamed her body, tracing the expanse of it with his fingers. As he pushed her loincloth to the side with one hand, he grabbed himself with the other. He aligned himself with her entrance, chuckling at the look of surprise that spread across (Y/N)’s eyes.

“Ready?” The question was a formality. He was not asking her, not really. Jake was reminding her who was in control, whose will was being fulfilled.

In one thrust, his length spread her folds and he was buried to the hilt. His ships pressed against her skin, her tightness enveloping him fully. As he groaned quietly at the feeling of her walls around him, (Y/N) found herself slapping a hand on her mouth to swallow the moan she felt at the stretch.

Her body was growing used to having him inside. His size tested her to new lengths, filling her insides entirely. He made her feel erratic and injudicious. Whenever he was near her, she threw all caution to the wind. All the worries that clouded her mind when they were apart seemed to dissipate the second his hands were on her.

His pace was relentless and messy. His hips met her backside harshly, the sounds of their skin swallowed only by the call of the wind dancing through the branches of the trees. He gripped her hips strongly, chasing his own finish as fast as he could. He was desperate and extremely aroused. All he could think of at that moment was his own finish.

Spending the whole day apart had birthed a deep want inside him that could only be satiated by (Y/N). He had spent his time with flashes of their encounters firing inside his head, the pressure in his stomach tightening at every scene. Her smell was eternally permeated in his nostrils, the feel of her skin tingling across his palms, the feeling of her clenching walls hugged him. She was intoxicating and he was insatiable. He only had three more days with her and he would take advantage of every second.

“I’m so close, baby girl,” he whispered against her ear. “I know you are too. I can feel you.

(Y/N) whimpered in response. Jake was right. As much as she wanted to pretend that he didn’t know her body, he had learned everything about it in very little time. She could feel the way her own body reacted to him, the way she tightened against him, the way she drenched at the mere thought of having him inside her. It was an experience she never thought she would have with someone that wasn’t Neteyam.

His hand circled her body, two of his fingers assaulting her aching bud to push her climax over the top. He circled and massaged the bundle of nerves as quickly as he pistoned into her. His chest heaved with his sharp breaths. The hand he kept on her hip dug into her soft skin, denting its way into it. Their tails were entangled with one another, pushing the other closer together.

It didn’t take long for Jake to bottom out inside her, his seed once more mixing with her essence – a reoccurring and now natural occurrence to them. His body slumped against her, his arms wrapping around her waist to stabilize her body. Their breathings were matched, the sweat on their bodies glistened, their arms and tails enveloping them close.

“We should… we should go,” (Y/N) breathed. “We can’t get caught here, Jake. Let’s go.”

“Yes, we should,” he grinned. “Because I’m not done with you just yet.”

Jake grabbed her hand, leading her quickly to her nest. For them, the night had just started. They walked fast, jumping over branches and dodging tents and hammocks. Until they finally reached the privacy of her nest.

Before the entrance flap was fully closed, Jake attacked her lips with his. He devoured her mouth and explored her, only breaking the kiss to remove the three pieces of clothing that covered her body. Pieces that had such strong sentimental value, mindlessly scattered on the ground. Discarded like unnecessary obstacles that stood in the way of their main objective instead of the meaningful items they were.

“Wait, wait, sir,” she panted. “We need to talk. We have to talk.”

“Not now, little one,” Jake groaned. “Let’s just enjoy this – enjoy us. We don’t have much time left, and I know you’re enjoying this just as much as I am.”

“But…”

“No buts, (Y/N).” He was frustrated – sexually and mentally. He was sure of what he wanted at that moment. He knew he wanted her. “I told you this morning. If you don’t want this, if you want me to go, just tell me.”

“That’s not what I want. I don’t want you to go. But I think…”

“Stop thinking, (Y/N)!” His voice boomed, exasperation laced with his words. But as she flinched slightly at his tone, his eyes grew softer. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her. Jake placed a hand on her cheek, his thumb running over her cheek comfortingly. “I’m sorry. We just have our hours counted, baby girl. I don’t want to waste them talking about what we both know inevitably will happen.”

“Three days then,” she conceded. “In three days we have to talk about this.”

“Yes! Three days.” He pecked her lips, a smile spreading on his face. “I promise in three days we’ll talk all you want, but let’s enjoy our time now without worrying about the future. So, can we just have these moments? Even if we’re delusional enough to think everything is normal between us. Can we just pretend?”

“Yes, we can,” she returned the smile. “Now, kiss me.”

She stood on her tiptoes to crash her lips onto his, her hands placed at both sides of his face to pull him to her. He was right, she thought. It did not matter how much they talked about it or how she didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of what they were doing. The deed had already been done and she had loved it. Talking would never turn back time nor would it ever smother the flame that had ignited inside her.

Jake placed his hands under her thighs, prompting her to jump and wrap her legs around his waist. Their kiss was feverish and needy. No matter how much they pushed against each other it simply didn’t feel close enough. Their tongues fought for dominance, sliding in synchronization against each other.

“Goddess, I need to be inside you. Now,” he said as he lowered her onto the mat, her back against the sheets.

“Then, what are you waiting for?”

With a smirk on his face, Jake wasted no time using his cock to spread her open, their recent releases aiding as he glided into her. His eyes fell closed as he felt her around him again, the overwhelming feeling of her tightness still as fresh as their first time. He felt himself freeze, relishing in the sensation.

(Y/N) took this as an opportunity to start their pace, grinding down on him at a slow pace – the position was not good enough to go faster. She took advantage of his surprise to switch their positions, his back thudding onto the mattress as her legs straddled his lap.

“You’re learning,” Jake chuckled.

A chuckle she returned as she said, “I’ve got a great teacher.”

She stabilized herself with his chest, riding him at a faster tempo than she started. Now, she was the one chasing her climax, the need inside her growing with every second that passed. She knew it wouldn’t take long. Her clit grazed against his pelvis, her insides spasming as she rode him. This orgasm was for her only, for her own pleasure. The hardness inside her would have to wait for the next one.

A couple of more bounces and she felt her new climax joining the ones that were already inside her, the wetness dribbling down his cock as it ran out of space inside her. Her third finish of the night ransacked through her body as she collapsed onto Jake’s chest, breathless and in ecstasy. She was tired – exhausted – but she knew she had at least one more inside her. As soon as she got the slightest bit of energy back.

“You can’t have reached your cap yet, (Y/N),” Jake panted, her wetness still engulfing him. “I didn’t get to finish.”

“I just… I just need a minute,” she breathed.

“No worries, all I need is for you to hold on.”

Jake wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, their chests pressed together as he angled his hips upward and continued the attack. He slammed into her, pushing them both past their bodies’ capabilities, edged on by the moans and whimpers she sang into his ears. The most beautiful sound they had heard.

He rutted into her, faster and faster as he felt the usual tightening that signifies the closeness of his ends. And as much as he felt that he was in a position of dominance because he was the one setting the pace, it was the clenching of her insides that had all the power.

As she came, her cunt contracting against his cock, so did he. Their releases combined and seeped out of her, darkening the sheets under them. They were panting and sweaty, delighting in the pleasure of their aftermath.

At that moment, as their bodies recuperated from the onslaught of physical activities, Jake couldn’t help but admire just how beautiful she was. He cradled her face and met her in a soft kiss, the softest yet.

When he released her, he noticed streaks going down her cheeks where tears had fallen at some point. He wiped them away with his thumb, kissing each of her eyes before enveloping in a tight hug. She molded into his body, fitting perfectly between his arms. Her head pressed to his chest, her ears capturing the sound of his heartbeat.

Ba dump.

It echoed the sound of her own and she wondered if his heart ached just like hers. As he slung the sheets over them, still buried inside her, she wanted to know if he hurt every time he thought of his mate, just like she did. If their hearts could beat at the same rhythm, maybe they could be in pain at the same time.

“Stop thinking, little one,” he whispered. His hands smoothed down her hair. “Enjoy the present. We won’t have it for long.”

Taglist: @uwunuggetchan @ellabellabus07 @jake-sullys-whore @irisskies @crazy4books1

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year

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Drafting an Adventure: A death at dawngrace

The rampage of some winged beast has brought you into the service of Syr Volias, an experienced knight errant who has sought you out in hopes of putting an end to its far ranging carnage. It is early spring, and your party follows the thaw up the side of the mountain to an old ruin which surveils the surrounding valley. So far the ruin, and your quarry, remain beyond sight.

A new DM asked me if I could walk them through the creation of an introductory adventure; combining not only a solid first questhook but also incorporating my advice on session zero, party formation, and the fundamentals of dm storytelling. This adventure prompt is the result, serving not only as a tutorial for newer players, but a teaching example for new DMs as well. It can easily be run as a oneshot, used as a launching point for a greater story, or (for those of you who have some adventures under your belt) seeded into an ongoing game as a sidequest. The structure of the adventure is fairly simple, so rather than slathering on extraneous detail I’ll be going in depth about WHY each section of the adventure happens the way it does, and what purpose it serves in turning a group of scattered players into an invested adventuring party.

We begin with the party already gathered and on their way up the side of the mountain, providing everyone (including the DM) with a clear direction for the action. What are we doing? we’re heading towards the ruin, and all we need to worry about at the moment is taking actions that lead us closer to it. Similarly, this adventure provides the players with direction during session zero, as they know vaguely what they’ll be doing on this outing (hunting a beast alongside a knight) and what sort of characters they might be playing: who would sir Volias seek out for aid? What have they done to earn themselves reputation as monster hunters? Why did they say yes? Using these sorts of ideas to guide character creation gives you a cohesive group identity right from the get go without having to bend over backwards to get the party together.

The mountain itself is a series of easy challenges intended to show off the game’s basic mechanics: as well as brief problem solving challenges like: the old bridge is out over this frozen stream, how do we cross? Do we take the high road or the low road, and can we make a survival check to get more information? Throw in some low stakes combat against some woodland critters freshly woken from hibernation and you’ve got yourself a solid tutorial.

Travelling up the mountain also lets you start laying down the emotional foundation of the adventure: Character introductions can be made as in-depth as your group feels comfortable with, rounding off with the reserved but jovial Syr Volias. Wishing to foster a spirit of camaraderie, the knight errant is quick to defer to others in situations where their skills or abilities would take prescience ( and thus giving you as the DM an in-canon method of spotlighting different players). A shadow will be cast over the proceedings when the party finds the remains of a hunter lodged in a tree, a victim of their quarry thoroughly savaged and partially devoured, a prelude to more devastation should they fail. Bonus points if the hunter is someone known by at least one of the partymembers (perhaps providing the backdrop for a character introduction on its own), with EXTRA bonus points if the hunter has a family back in town that the party has to inform. This pulls double duty of giving the party something to care about early, along with a reason to check out the town later on.

Once they reach the overlook, the party is in for a chance of pace: The ruins of Dawngrace were once the towerhome of noble family that ruled the region before the current war, and Syr Volias aims to use them as cover during his ambush of the beast. That of course requires the party to partake in a bit of dungeon delving, which gives you the chance for some structured exploration as they make their way through locked chambers and fight off whatever critters happen to be squatting within. Paint the dungeon as an escape room, a sequence of challenges to be faced to get to the ultimate goal, with a few hidden secrets and bits of treasure for them to discover along the way. If they start to develop a taste for lore, splice in a few hints about the family that used to live here, and the war that pushed them off of their land some two decades ago.

Then comes the night, the party’s first introduction to the long rest mechanics and a refresh of all their capabilities. Use this time to do some more character/roleplay work by asking them how they spend the night, what they’re feeling on the eve of battle. Mention the chance for a couple characters to go hunting and maybe snag some dinner, or pass around a flask. Likewise mention that after his late hour Prayers, Syr Volias removes his helm and starts preparing his gear for the next morning, signalling to the party that this might be a good time to approach him and ask about his whole deal, now that he seems to be less on guard.

The knight errant is happy to talk about his previous adventures and his plans for the coming confrontation , but Making a proper persuasion or insight check ( good to give those social characters something) will reveal their chivalric escort has much more to say. As it turns out, the older warrior was hungry for glory in his youth, and the Kaeriellas, the noble family that plundered the lowland settlements and installed themselves as the new powers of the region. Volias is sparse with the exact details, save that he did many things that he regrets during those bloody years, and has spent the decades since trying to atone. He’ll mention that his shield was gifted to him by an elder of the temple of Pelor, a sign of the new beginning he made on his quest for redemption, and a weighty reminder of the past for which he must atone.

Having fought many a beast of the wing, Volias is prepared for tomorrow: shelter the more vulnerable characters inside the ruin and prepare bait for their target within striking distance. Run ropes between the trees and various pitons to restrict its arial movement, draw it in as the dawnlight crests over the ridge and reflect it back with his sacred shield, potentially blinding it and causing it to crash. The battle will go well enough, but the beast the knight has set to fight is no mere drake as he expected, but a wyvern, which will bring it’s deadly sting to bear on the party… and the valiant knight who will intercede between them and a killing blow.

After the battle is done, it’s time to ham up the death scene: Players often enter a campaign with different levels of investment, and it’s shared experiences (Both good and bad) that help them tune in to eachother and turn a gaggle of friends or random aquaintances playing together into a cohesive adventuring party. Its the clarity of the scene that’ll help sell it: a beautiful dawn lit morning, the chill of the mountain air, and the bitter sting of martyrdom that the party will need to come to terms with as Syr Volias chokes out his last. This knight could have been a mentor to the party, he could have been a friend, and now they have to watch him die as the poison eats him from the inside out. He’ll congratulate them on their victories, offer a few memorable pieces of advice regarding their failings, and tell them to take the beast’s head to his onetime patron to ensure they get their reward.

As one final request, Volias asks them that whatever they decide to do with his body or the rest of his possessions, if they could carry his shield to a particular temple several towns away and return it to the high priestess there, with an apology about not being able to keep his promises. This provides you with one of your first early game quest hooks to not only encourage the party to go out and see your world, but also gives them something precious to protect, something both emotionally charged and mechanically useful that might be stolen or lost if they’re not careful.

You also might have noticed that we’ve been building up an early game antagonist in the form of the Kaeriellas noble family, who seized this region in a war of territorial aggression a generation ago. No great world conquering villains, they exist to give your party someone to resent early game, especially after the heroes jump through several hoops (travel, talking their way into an audience, bringing the head if a wyvern to whatever Kaeriallas cousin serves as local magistrate) only to have their trophy plucked from their hands and their promise of payment revoked. The Magistrate will insit their agreement was with Syr Volias, reward to be delivered when he delivered proof he’d slain the beast, and since Volias is not there to collect, there is no contract to pay out. This is going to drive your players up the wall, but that’s exactly what we want, getting them to dislike the Kaeriellas is not only another strong feeling they have about the world, but is also a stepping stone to getting them to dislike anyone the noble bastards work with in the future, a great way to set up new villains who come into the story as the party adventures and levels up.

I hope this has been useful to you, and if it seems like a lot of prep work for a simple adventure of “ go here and kill this thing” understand that a lot of these steps are me over-explaining a lot of DM storyteller skills that usually become subconscious when mastered.

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