#TY FOR THE ASK... IF ANYONE ELSE IS INTRIGUED BY ANY OF THIS PLEASE ASK I LITERALLY LOVE THIS AU SM

[carcinized]

oooh ooh ooh tell me about whatever the pantheon au is

i don't understand much but just tell me whatever you like about whatever you write because it's very very fun to hear :)

sjslfkjdsf i am glad you like to hear :]]

i will just talk about some of my favourite gods maybe, and maybe the limbo system? i dont want to spoil the myths in case i ever get around to writing them but!!

so they all have titles!! lets start with quackity, the lord of fortune. he's had the title for so long and it's been translated so many times that no one is quite sure if it's meant to be fortune as in luck or fortune as in riches (though some might argue those are the same thing). quackity's job is to decide who deserves fortune and give it away to those who do, while taking it away from those who dont. yes its very inspired by him owning a casino and las nevadas in general and luck yeah yeah. anyways he decides who is worthy of fortune by shapeshifting (bc he can do that :D) and testing people without them knowing he's a god (like juno in roman mythology, testing heroes). and of course, being quackity, he gets into . a shit ton of mischief with his shapeshifting abilities lmao.

then!! tubbo is the most developed (very characteristic for something ive done LMAO). hes the guide of the lost, meaning people pray to him for guidance! hes the god/protector of those in tricky, two-sided situations and high stakes. also, though most people forget it, he's the god of necessary lies and unneccesary truths. what else OH!!! he fuckin hates his title. he tries to get people to call him cursed things (THE CENSORSHIP SOUND?? CAN I MAKE A BEEP REFERENCE???) anyways his duty is to answer prayers from people praying to him, and also help judge the souls of the dead to decide their limbos! however, he's only called in to help with the really morally grey cases (and there is a story behind why, however i won't get into it unless i get another ask LMAO). he and tommy trade duties for fun sometimes and sometimes tubbo forces ranboo to do his because he's a little shit like that </3 OH ALSO HE CAN SENSE LIES!! (and by extension truths LOL)

wilbur is the herald of change but if i explained his whole story it would take literally forever because its complicated as hell </3

same with ranboo except he doesnt even have a proper title hes ranboo the mysterious because no one knows shit about him... he wasnt even in the original myths and hes relatively new to the pantheon (he started out as a mortal and theres a whole myth about how he became a god) and i had an idea for what he does but i dont remember DAMNIT. but he got to choose what he'd be the god of unlike everyone else. however the mortals never gave him a cool title L sorry ranboo ily but. it just didnt work </3 now you can be mysterious though :D

oh also george sleeps through literally everything except the wilbur story and is BRIEFLY awoken for ranboos. his power is to thanos snap people

i am not actually going to write out the limbo death system because this is long as it is but its run by technoblade and tubbo until S T O R Y and then niki is added and tubbo is kiiiinda removed but also not really hes still a part of it

[histarean]

not your fault

pairings: eren yeager x female reader

wc: 1.5k

content warnings: dubcon, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), creampie, public sex, orgasm denial

note: i couldn't stop thinking about plane sex with eren so i impulsively wrote this while i was flying

(NSFW 18+ minors DNI)

stepping through the flimsy doors of the bathroom, you breathe in the strong smell of sanitizer. it’s never ideal using plane restrooms but you still had five hours until landing and there was no way you could wait. debating between the options of getting it over and done with or peeing yourself, the former seemed better. you promised this wouldn’t take more than two minutes, then you could go back to the safety of your seat.

taking a deep breath, you turned around to slide the door closed. the blast of cool air above trying to ventilate the tiny room was just a reminder of all the germs festering around you.

you hesitantly pinch the lock shut, but a large hand stopped it by a few inches. instantly put into panic mode from this invasion, you froze up allowing the hand to turn into a man inviting himself in.

“‘s’cuse me, this is occupied sir,” your voice evidently shaking.

“I don't see you pushing me out,” he reached behind him the lock clicking.

“p-please leave,” you whisper, backing away.

“oh? don’t think i didn’t see you staring at me, it was very disturbing you know,” the man said with a cocky smile.

he was right, you were caught at least four times in the short time you were on board. it’s not your fault though, it was the way his muscles flexed lifting his suitcase. it’s his fault he looked so hot chewing on his nails while scrolling through his phone. and when he sat down, tying his hair back with golden brown arms. you watched his fingers lazily loop his chestnut hair into a messy bun. it was embarrassing you found this so attractive, but again it’s not your fault.

“hmm you can’t even answer huh?” he said, taking a step closer.

you played out the scenario in your head on how this should continue, but before you settled on a conclusion, he lunged at you. it probably should’ve been scarier to anyone else but his manner was too intriguing. he swiftly pinned your wrists to the wall, trapping you. his hand snuck behind your lower back hugging your hips.

“eren,” he purred in the shell of your ear.

his voice echoed in your mind, erasing all worry or fear. he had such a calming tone, it was almost addicting.

“e-eren,” you slowly repeated to him.

“sounds so good rolling off your tongue,” eren said pulling back to look at you..

you had seen his eyes from afar, but they were so much more beautiful up close like this. the emerald glow of them shone into you, his dark pupils stamping the middle. they were the kind you could easily get lost in if you weren’t careful. you could only imagine how stupid you looked, slouching on a bathroom wall with your wrists pinned over your head.

eren chuckled, watching your eyes dart around the features of his face. you froze, seeing him lean in, nose touched yours.

“what do you want and be quick, this is a public restroom,” you felt his breath fan your chin.

without saying anything, you quickly closed the distance between you two, abandoned all logic.

reciprocating your response, eren rolled his body on you, hands never leaving your wrists. his other hand kept a strong grip on your back, holding you to his chest. eren’s abs grazed your stomach through the thin gray shirt he wore.

his hand roamed, squeezing and kneading the fat of your ass. eren heard a small moan leave your lips, knowing he was doing something right. your hips grinded hesistantly against his crotch in the little space you had. a low groan reverberated in his throat from the slight friction.

eren’s thumb hooked onto the waistband of your shorts, peeling them down your legs. you pushed the thought of them falling on the filthy floor, bringing your mentality back to him.

kisses traced down your neck to the part of your collarbone left exposed. little nips and pecks scattered along the trail, tingling your soft skin. airy sighs left you as teeth indents marked his way down. your body heat rose more at eren’s touch, countering the plane freezing air. eren’s fingers snuck down, tracing his index finger on the damp spot of your underwear. the feeling of him rubbing light circles on your clothed clit made you gasp from the pressure.

“that feels good huh,” he said in more of a statement than a question.

you only hummed in response, your mind starting to blur. grinning up at you, eren slid the bottoms of your underwear to the side, out of the way. you heard a sharp hiss as he massaged your plush thigh with one hand. you shivered from the air on your exposed cunt, but eren’s palm cupped your pussy, warming you. wasting no time, he swiftly buried his face between your legs. your back snapped into an arch as eren’s slick tongue licked as deep as he could, his sharp nose tickling your clit.

the sensation of his mouth sucking and devouring every part of you, built your orgasm quicker than he liked. a light blow of air on your slick folds, sent goosebumps up your arms as you ran your fingers through his silky hair.

“i think ‘m gonna c-cum eren please don’t stop,” you choked on your words, eyes squeezed shut.

sliding his wet tongue along your slit one last time, your pleas were completely ignored. standing up, eren loomed over you, holding your cheeks.

“not yet babe,” he teased, amused at your desperate expression.

eren smiled at your frustrated whines, eyes brimming with tears from the loss of his touch. maintaining eye contact, he leaned in as you fiddled with the buckle of his jeans. a bittersweet taste filled your mouth, his tongue spreading it over your inner cheeks. finally undoing the belt of his pants, you let them drop to the floor. stroking eren’s hard cock in your hand, you held the tip to your entrance looking up at him for consent. he ignored your ask without warning, harshly bucked his hips, splitting your walls open. eren didn’t give you any time for preparation, pulling out and slamming back up into you. your eyes dramatically rolled back feeling him hit every sensitive spot you had. your body rocked up and down against the wall as eren’s quick and sporadic thrusts consumed your senses, breathy moans bouncing around the room.

“we’ll get in trouble if you’re too loud, and you don’t want that do you,” he hissed into the back of your head.

not giving you an opportunity to respond, eren smoothly flipped your body so your back pressed to his chest.

“now be quiet while i fuck you,” he seethed, calloused hand covering your mouth.

steadying yourself on the wall in front of you, eren’s free hand lifted your shirt, tracing your stomach. high pitched whines were muffled as he groped your tit, the sensitivity sending a shock through your body. eren slowed his pace, reveling in the way his hips squished your ass each time he reached his hilt. momentarily lost at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in your sopping cunt, eren noticed the whimpers and moans that once filled the room had quieted. despite what he said, eren did want you to be loud for him.

he returned to you, rolling and pinching the swollen bud of your nipple to create more stimulation. eren loosened the grip he had on your face, allowing the sounds of your cries to cloud his mind. your walls clenched around him pounding your abused cunt. eren’s heavy grunts entering your ear, muting everything around you leaving nothing but him. his already erratic breathing hitched in his throat, only seconds away from cumming in you.

“‘m god fuck~,” eren’s curses melted your brain to mush.

he never slowed down as thick, white cum shot deep, painting your insides. eren pressed his chest to your back nuzzling his chin in the crook of your neck. he continued slow, lazy strokes feeling your walls flutter around him. his quiet moans from overstimulation fogged your senses to the point you didn’t even register your orgasm. eren held your body close to him letting you ride out your high.

leaning back, eren admired the way his cum seeped out of your hole mixing with yours. he followed the drips traveling down your inner thighs thoroughly satisfied. he only let go when your breathing had calmed, letting you stand up straight. you turned around to rest on the seat, watching eren readjust his pants. planting your feet, you tried doing the same but unsuccessfully lost balance, toppling over. eren caught you before you fell, redressing you himself. taking a long look at you, little baby hairs stuck to your forehead that was glistening with sweat, the rest of your face a burning red. you looked perfect like this, and it was all because of him. but eren knew he would never see you again so he spun around, unlocking the folding door.

“let’s go, there are people waiting,” eren smirked, glancing over his shoulder at your figure one last time.

[xcertaindarkthingsx]

make you mine

pairing: jealous!mando x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been traveling with the Mandalorian for a while now as a healer and caretaker for the Child.  one day, the Mandalorian needs your specific skills to help him catch a bounty, and needless the say he is NOT happy about it.  

warnings: two idiots that don’t know they like each other, some fluff and yearning, a smidge of possessiveness/jealousy, canon-typical violence, swearing in basic and mando’a, brief mentions of unwanted touching, mentions of taking care of injuries/stitching and blood, SMUT 18+ (minors BEGONE), porn w/ plot i guess, thigh riding, finger sucking, grinding, a lil’ dirty talk (if i miss any just please let me know!)

word count: 7.6k (i’m soRRY)

a/n: WHEW OK so i originally wrote this for #dincember but because i suck at deadlines and take forever to write it just turned into something else. reader is a lil insecure but mando makes it all better (self-projection, anyone?) ummm, this is my first time writing for din AND my first time writing smut but i hope you guys like it! comments/likes/reblogs/feedback are completely welcome and much appreciated! i apologize if this is a mess kladjflkd but shoutout to @a-dorin and @princessxkenobi for being wonderful beta readers and helping me when i got stuck.  i am planning on making this a two parter, so if you want to be added to my tag list let me know! if you prefer to read on ao3 you can do so here . mando’a translations at the end!

gif credit: @bestintheparsec

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Soft coos filled the air inside the Razor Crest as you desperately tried to rock the Child back to sleep.  You were almost certain he was starting to get hungry, but you were out of snacks and Mando had told you not to leave the ship under any circumstances.

You had been traveling with the Mandalorian for a while now, after being picked up on Arvala-7. You were a healer—a pretty damn good one, if you had anything to say about it—and had patched him up after a bounty hunt gone wrong.  

The Mandalorian thought your services would be helpful if things ever got a little dicey again, so he asked you along for the ride (the reality was you had nagged and scolded him so much about how cauterizing was not the answer for every wound, that he eventually caved just to get you to stop). There wasn’t really anything tying you to Arvala-7, so you agreed.

Plus, the Child had taken a real liking to you, and how could you say no to that precious face?  

The Mandalorian was an odd man—well, no.  Not odd.  More like intriguing, and you were drawn to it.  It had been quiet and awkward the first few months.  He was a rigid man of few words, never speaking more than necessary (unless he thought he was alone with the kid; the way he spoke with him made your heart melt).  But after countless late nights together of taking care of the Child and constantly tending to his injuries, you were surprised to find there was a sense of gentleness under all that beskar.

The Mandalorian had been just as surprised as you when he found himself warming up to your presence.  It was all the little moments that had snuck up on him, the stolen glances and lingering touches, and now his heartbeat seemed to quicken every time you were together.

Little did he know, yours did too.  

At the sound of the hatch door opening, you looked up.  You watched as the Mandalorian walked up the platform, admiring his strut.  How someone could look so good just walking, you had no idea, but it was maddening.  

“No bounty?” you called out, turning the kid in your arms so he would be facing out towards his dad.  It was unusual that Mando hadn’t found the target yet, but you were just thankful he was in one piece for now.  He shook his head.

“Not yet.  I ran into some… complications,” he huffed and even though his voice was laced with frustration, it put you at ease.  Being on the ship alone for nearly the whole day, sometimes you just missed hearing that husky baritone filtering through his modulator.  

Not to mention you thought it was sexy as hell.  

You quirked an eyebrow at him.  “Complications?”  

He heaved a deep sigh, lifting a hand for the Child to grab, which he took happily.  “Hey, kid,” he whispered, and you smiled as the Child babbled back.  Mando turned his helmet towards you and continued.  “Yes, but I found a contact who should be able to give more information.  I came back for you and the kid first.  I know you guys must be hungry.”  

You nodded at the same time the little green bean gave a resounding coo, earning a soft chuckle from the both of you.  “I’ll get the pram ready.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

After a quick stop in the marketplace for supplies, Mando had led you two into what seemed to be the only bar in town.  It was only late afternoon, leaving it nearly empty, save for a few older patrons lazily sipping on glasses of ale.  You ignored the way the Weequay behind the bar seemed to look you up and down.     

Mando set you and the kid up with two bowls of soup at a table nearby while he talked business with his contact, who happened to be the bartender.  Sipping your soup, you tried not to eavesdrop as the two began to fall into what you would call a heated discussion.  On Mando’s end.  Apparently, this was a particularly “difficult” target.  

“Lucky for you, he’s got an eye for pretty girls,” the bartender drawled, jutting his chin at you.  “She’ll do fine.”

Your head snapped up from your task of feeding the child, spoon mid-air.  “Excuse me?”

“No.  Absolutely not,” resounded Mando’s gruff voice from under the helmet.    

“Listen, Mando.  This guy is high-profile, practically untouchable, bodyguards with him at all times. And I’m not talkin’ your run of the mill pair of idiots that can’t shoot for a damn, I’m talkin’ highly trained mercenaries.”  The Weequay sighed.  “I don’t doubt your skills as a Mandalorian, but you’re just one man.  You need to get him alone, and she is your only way of doing that,” he insisted.  

“I said, no,” Mando gritted out.  You were non-negotiable.  

The bartender just shrugged.  “Then consider this a loss, cause you’re not getting anywhere near him.”

Your heart hammered in your chest listening to the two of them argue. Embarrassment flooded your cheeks, remembering the way the bartender eyed you when you walked in.  All you wanted to do at this point was bury yourself in the confines of your room in the Razor Crest.

Mando seemed final in his decision, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he didn’t want you involved or if he thought you simply lacked the skills to do so.  He could probably tell you weren’t really the seducing type, and truthfully the thought of trying to do was mortifying.    

But Mando needed this, right?  You thought of all the things he’s done for you, how he’s protected and provided for you.  This was the least you could do for him.  You could deal with one night of potential discomfort so he could get his bounty.  It was a lot of credits.  

“I’ll do it.”

Mando snapped his head around at you so fast, it was a miracle he hadn’t hurt himself.  “For the last time, I said you are no—”

“I’m doing it,” you said a little more forcefully, cutting him off. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was staring daggers into you from underneath the helmet, but it was going to take more than a dirty look to get you to change your mind.  

“Excellent!” the bartender’s cheery voice cut through the tension in the room.  “Come on back, I’ve got an old dress an ex-girlfriend left behind that you could probably use.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The dress in question was a slinky black number that had you freezing your ass off in the cold of the desert night.  

The dress was too… everything.  Too short, too revealing, too tight; but the only other thing you had to wear were some oversized t-shirts and utility pants, which aren’t exactly sexy, so you were shit out of luck.  

Mando nearly choked when you came out of your room, thankful for the helmet for hiding his widened eyes and agape mouth. You looked absolutely ravishing, the black fabric clinging to all the right places on your figure.  His eyes roved over the valley of your chest, the curve of your hips, the length of your legs, and his hands balled into fists, just aching to hold you.  It’s as if your skin was begging to be touched.  

You cleared your throat, feeling incredibly exposed and wondering what in the blazes Mando was looking at because you were certain you looked absolutely ridiculous.  The noise shook him out of whatever daze he was in and he quickly shifted his gaze.  

“Not a word,” you warned, wobbling down the platform.  As bad as the dress was, the heels it came with were somehow worse.  “I feel ridiculous.”

“You shouldn’t,” he answered a little too quickly. “You look…” words were lost on him as he tried to find the right one.  One that wouldn’t make it obvious that he was losing his kriffing mind in front of you.  “Good,” he finally decided on, and mentally kicked himself for it.  Good?

You gave him an exasperated look.  “I know you’re just being nice.”

He opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by an ill-timed fit of babbling from the kid.  You had bent down as best you could to give him a little pat on the head and he could feel a lump forming in his throat.  

Mando couldn’t express how much he didn’t want you to do this.  And well, he tried.  The whole way back to the ship, in fact.  But for some reason you were completely hell-bent on doing this for him, and he didn’t know how to explain that you and your safety meant more to him than a few thousand credits.  

The reality was, Mando wanted you.  He never thought he’d be so fond for someone besides the Child, but you were the exception.  And even though he wanted to make you his, he knew it would be selfish of him to pursue you, to claim you, when he couldn’t give you everything you deserved; his Creed prevented him from doing so.  

But Mando was a greedy man, so he took what he could get.  He drank up all the kindness you so freely gave him, like a parched soul wandering in the desert, and cherished every little moment the two of you shared. They probably meant nothing to you, but they were everything to him.  And he wanted more.

Not only was he a greedy man, but a stingy one as well.  The thought of anyone other than him seeing you in that dress was enough to send his thoughts into a jealous frenzy.  

“You don’t have to do this,” he tried to reason again.  

You placed a gentle hand on the soft spot between his pauldron and neck and offered a small smile.  “Don’t worry, Mando.  Everything will be fine.”        

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Everything was, in fact, not fine.  

The night had started well enough.  After all of Mando’s failed attempts at dissuading you again, he had finally resigned to silently stewing in his disapproval rather than voicing it.  

You entered the bar while he stayed behind and watched closely from the outside.  He had given you a comms device, that, with the push of a button, would let him know you were alone with the bounty and it was time for him to step in.  

“Just press it, and I will be right there,” he assured, his gloved fingers pressing the device firmly into your bare palm. Something about the protective tone of his voice stirred something in you.  You nodded before looking away, trying to ignore your racing heart.  

The bar was rowdy that night, patrons hooting and howling from the booze.  The smell of stale spice and death sticks wafted in the air, making you wrinkle your nose.  Your newfound bartender friend had waved you over, pointing out the target with a nod of his head.  

Your eyes fell on a Pantoran man across the bar with a drink in his hand, dozens of black suits surrounding him.  His associates—a Rodian and another Pantoran—seemed to all be talking business.  The bartender wasn’t kidding about this guy’s security.

How the hell am I supposed to get this guy’s attention?  You desperately racked your head for subtle ideas but came to a halt when his eyes met yours.  Kriff, he had caught you staring.  So much for subtle.  Trying not to panic, you flashed your best coy smile before turning back towards the bar.

Somehow, that was enough to give him the courage to approach you.  

Cocky bastard, you thought as he swaggered on up to you, leaning in close, leering.  With his chiseled features and striking yellow markings, you would’ve called him handsome— if you didn’t already know what a sleazebag he was.  An air of arrogance surrounded him, the type that made him think he could get whatever he wanted with a flash of those pearly whites. Typical douche.  You wanted to smack him for being so close.  

Instead, you flashed another winning smile. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you leaned in close and with a breathy whisper of, ‘Let’s get out of here’ he was tossing credits to the bartender and signaling to his guards that he was leaving with you.  

The Weequay had shot you a knowing look as he watched you leave; a warning.  You assured him that everything was fine with a slight nod of your head.      

The asshole had his arm snaked around you, hand on your ass, as you made your way to the motel just across the street.  You fought back the urge to throttle him, instead fawning about how, ‘I can’t wait to be alone with you, darling.’    

Your hands began to clam up as he retrieved the keys from the clerk, and you tried to convince yourself that everything would be fine once you clicked the button on your comm from the inside of the room.

Wrong.  

Immediately after the Pantoran locked the door, the unease in your stomach began to grow.  Bile rose in your throat at his grinning face, the way he fidgeted and licked his lips as he pressed you into the wall.  A hand landed on your bare thigh, trailing dangerously high, where you shuddered in disgust at the feeling.  

“We’re gonna have so much fun,” he whispered, and that was your cue to press the comms device you were desperately clutching in your small purse.  Your mistake was failing to mask the faint beeping noise it emitted.  Your companion stiffened at the sound, pressing you further into the wall.  

“What the hell did you just do?” he growled, using the other hand to rip your arm from your purse.  He stared at the comms device with contempt, before turning his attention back to me.  “You bi—”

He never got to finish, because the next thing you knew your Mandalorian was crashing through the door, blaster in hand.

The scene Mando had walked in on nearly made him sick.  That osi’kovid’s hands all over you, and worst of all, the look of pure fear on your face after being made.  He’d planned to put a quick end to the whole ordeal, but the bounty had plans of his own.

Mando rushed him, shoving him into the wall and away from you.  As expected, the Pantoran went flying before crumpling onto the floor.  What Mando hadn’t been expecting was for him to be armed. He didn’t peg him as the type to get his hands dirty.  

The Mandalorian was about to release the fibercord whip from his vambrace when the bounty rose from the floor with a sneer, a small combat knife in hand as he lunged at Mando, before wrestling him to the floor and sending his blaster skittering.  

You watched in frozen horror as the two fought for the upper hand. At one point, the bounty had tried to charge at you, slashing wildly, but Mando was already there blocking his blows. The knife caught on the cowl above his chest, slicing the skin underneath with a sickening noise.  That seemed to kick your brain into overdrive, and you dived for the fallen blaster on the ground.  

You took a steadying breath before you aimed and shot once, twice, at the bounty’s leg.  He cried out from his place above Mando before clutching his leg and finally falling over.

Mando rose and immediately released the fibercord, imprisoning the bounty.  He held his hand out for his blaster, and you watched with wide eyes as he smacked the butt of it into the Pantoran’s face once, twice, three times.  The third time ended with an appalling crack, his head lolling forward, and leaving him unconscious.  

You stared as Mando stood in front of the bounty, seething.  You could have sworn his hands were shaking.      

“Stars, Mando, your neck,” you murmured, breathless.  The room was dim, but you could see the dark stain of blood that was beginning to drench his cowl.  Your hands went to inspect the wound, but he quickly brushed you off.  

“We need to go,” he grunted, gathering the rope and heading towards the back entrance of the room.  The two of you hadn’t exactly been quiet and the bounty’s guards were bound to notice their boss had been gone for too long.  When you had opened your mouth to argue, to insist that you needed to check his injuries, he was already out the door.

Adrenaline still coursed through your veins as you walked back towards the ship.  You pulled your arms tight across your body in an attempt to quell your trembling hands; guilt, bubbling up in your stomach as you replayed the events of the night in your head.  

You had been the one to volunteer yourself for the mission.

You were the one who had repeatedly insisted that everything would be fine.  

And now, your Mandalorian was bleeding profusely from a nasty wound on his neck.  

“Mando,” you pleaded, trying to keep up with him in your ridiculous heels.  Instead of acknowledging you, your words fell to deaf ears.  He was stomping his way back to the ship, the unconscious bounty in tow.  

Worry bloomed in your chest.  The wound had looked bad back at the motel, but it was as if he couldn’t even feel it.  You could hear his ragged breathing from behind; whether it was from the fight, the long walk, or the wound, you weren’t sure.  

“Mando,” you tried again, this time raising your voice as you approached the hatch of the ship.  

Nothing.

He let out another grunt as he hauled the bounty onto the ship, towards the carbon-freezing machine.  You pursed your lips, jaw clenching in his direction. You did not appreciate being ignored, especially after just half-saving his ass just moments before.

Granted, you were the one that had put him in that position, but that was besides the point.

His back was to you and you stepped closer, ready to unleash a piece of your damn mind, when you stopped.  You took in his brooding stance and clenched fists.  The tremble in his hands.  Anger seemed to roll off the Mandalorian in waves, making you falter.  

What the hell was his problem?

“Mando, can you kriffing listen to me?  I need to treat you, you have no idea if he nicked an important artery or something.  I don’t know what you’re so worked up about, but you’ve been bleeding for a few minutes now and I just need to look—” annoyance rose in you as he continued to prep the carbon machine.  “Maker, can you even hear me?”

The Mandalorian couldn’t hear you, not clearly anyways.  Blood was still rushing in his ears, his vision still tinged red.  But with another call of his name, you were finally able to get through and he suddenly whipped around.  

“He touched you,” he gritted out, seething and shaking. “That skanah had his hands all over you and I swear if I didn’t need him alive for the bounty, he’d already be dead.”  He punctuated the last word with the slam of a button on the machine.    

You took a step back, eyes wide and brows furrowed. Something warm tightened in your chest and belly.  Wh-why did he care so much?  A lump had lodged itself into your throat.  “Mando, I—I’m fine.  Alright? I’m okay,” you tried to assure.  “So, can you please calm down and let me just—"

But the Mandalorian already had his back turned again.  You threw your hands up in the air, groaning in frustration as he continued to work.  Another minute passed and with a faint whoosh, the bounty was finally set in carbonite.  

A shiver ran through your body as the cool night air blew its way into the Razor Crest, raising goosebumps on your exposed skin.  Seeing you tremble in the cold seemed to break Mando out of whatever angry stupor he was in.    

In all honesty, he hadn’t meant to ignore you, but something in him snapped back at the motel.  The image of that skanah touching you had made his blood boil, and his sole goal was to get him back to the ship and be done with it.  

“You’re… cold,” he stated, the words coming out slow and soft, like pulling them out of a dream.  You must have been freezing in that dress.    

Your head snapped up at him.  “I—what?”

“Let me get you a blanket or—” He hesitated when he saw you pinch the bridge of your nose, eyes screwed shut.  

You couldn’t believe this idiot.  

“Mando, seriously?”  Your heart and your brain were having a hard time deciding whether you should be flattered about him caring so much or pissed off because he didn’t seem to give a damn about himself.  

You chose a mix of the two.

“Mando,” you sighed, looking up at him.  “I promise you I’m fine, thank you.  Really.”  You gave him your most genuine, caring look to show you were thankful for his concern, and then quickly replaced it with a hard one.  “But if you don’t get up into that cockpit right now and let me treat you, I’m going to use that damn pulse rifle on you.”

And just like that, you had managed to dissolve the lingering traces of anger in his mind.  His lips twitched under the helmet.  “That supposed to scare me?”

You glared.  “Don’t push it.” You could have sworn he was laughing under there.

The Mandalorian would have laughed if the wound on his neck hadn’t began to ache.  Instead, he begrudgingly nodded, throwing his hands up in mock surrender before disappearing into the cockpit.  

He began to input the coordinates back to Nevarro into the navicomputer, warmth unfurling in his chest as he listened to you check on the Child.  A tiredness had begun to settle in his muscles from the fight earlier, and he grimaced as he reached for a lever on the control panel.  The pain on his neck was getting worse, and if he was being honest it burned like all hell, but he was not going to admit that to you.

The door behind him slid open and you stepped in frazzled, medkit in hand.  Even with your hair in disarray and scrapes littering your arms and legs, he thought you looked breathtaking.  

“Uh, so bad news,” you began, gesturing at the medkit.  “They didn’t have any at the market earlier, so we’re out of bacta shots and spray.  I’m gonna have to stitch it closed depending on how deep it is.”  You shot him an apologetic look.

He nodded, putting in the last of the coordinates before removing his chest plate to give you easier access, and turning his chair to face you.  You closed the space between the two of you, quickly going to work.  Careful hands began to peel away at the fabric stuck to the wound, a hiss of pain at the tip of his tongue as you ripped off the last of it.

“Sorry,” you whispered, inspecting the fabric before discarding it.  “You’re definitely gonna need a new cape.”

He shrugged.  “At least now you’ve got a new blanket.”  You always had a habit of curling up into all his old stuff.  

With a smile, you returned your focus to the task at hand, mentally sighing in relief as you began to clean the wound.  It could have been worse, but it was still very deep.  An inch to the left and just a smidge higher, and you would have had quite the problem on your hands.  

“Idiot,” you muttered.

“What was that?”

“Lucky,” you corrected, biting back a smirk.  “You got lucky.  Any higher and this would be a lot messier.”  You tossed the last of the gauze out and prepared the needle and thread.

Mando took in your awkward stance as you tried to bend down and begin stitching.  Standing was fine for when you were cleaning, but for something this intricate it wasn’t the best position.  You cursed and tried again, trying to get the angle right, but it was no use.  The thought left his mouth before he even had a chance to filter it.  

“You can sit on me if that’s easier.”

Heat blazed on your cheeks at his words, nearly dropping the damn needle.  “Oh—um—” Coherent thoughts didn’t seem to be forming in your head at the moment.

Panic flooded the Mandalorian’s brain as he took in your shocked expression and realized his mistake.  “I—well, not like that—what I meant was—” he spluttered, trying to find the right words, thankful that his helmet hid his mortified expression.          

“No, no it’s okay I—I know what you meant,” you managed to choke out after picking your jaw up off the floor.  It would have been comical—the certain and capable bounty hunter struggling to regain his composure—but his words had flooded your mind with some less than innocent thoughts and images, ones that left you heated and flustered.  You swallowed hard in an attempt to relieve your suddenly very dry throat.  “I can, if you’re okay with it?”

He slowly nodded, mentally kicking himself for being so daft.  He held his breath as you stepped closer, bracing a hand low on his chest as you perched yourself on his lap.  You cursed, trying to your best to maneuver yourself onto him without being inappropriate.

Finally, you were situated, hovering precariously over his thigh.  You breathed deep, willing your mind and body to calm down. Being in such close proximity to the Mandalorian was… dizzying, but you had a job to do.  And so, you went to work.  

A few minutes in, Mando could feel the tension rolling off your body, the tremble of your thighs as you tried to hold yourself above him.  “You can sit if you need to.”

The thought had crossed your mind, but truthfully you were afraid of how your body would react if you did. Eventually you gave in, shivering at the cold kiss of beskar on the insides of your thighs as you straddled his leg.  A knot was forming in your belly, low and warm.  

Maker, help me, you thought.

The change in position had slid your dress higher and Mando’s eyes began to wander again, taking in the exposed skin where your dress had hiked itself up, the material bunching around your hips.  His hands felt that pull again, that ache to touch you; to dig his fingers into the soft, plump flesh.  

Osik, he cursed, trying to control himself.  In his mind he conjured up the image of a blaster, mentally taking it apart and putting it back together as a pitiful attempt at a distraction.

You had fallen into a steady rhythm of stitching and knotting, your hands absentmindedly working.  The Mandalorian had fallen into a dull haze in the wake of your delicate touches, despite the sting and pull of the needle.  But when your hands brushed the edge of his helmet, he snapped to attention, reflexes kicking in.

A strong hand had immediately encircled your wrist, forcefully locking it in place.  Your breath seized at the realization of your colossal fuck-up.  How could you be so stupid?

“Shit, shit, I—I’m sorry,” you stammered out.  “Mando, I—I promise I wasn’t going to take it off, I just needed to adjust it to get the needle under.”  Your heart thundered against your chest, and you swear you could hear it in the empty silence of the cockpit.  The iron-clad grip he had on your wrist was starting to hurt, biting into your skin.  

Mando saw the flash of fear in your eyes, the way you had flinched at his touch and loosened the grip on your hand.  Regret began to bubble up inside him.  He opened his mouth to apologize, it had just been his instincts, but you beat him to it.  Your next words caught him off guard.  

“Do you trust me?”

He swallowed hard. Of course he did.  There was no question about it.  You were the one constant in his life besides the kid; the one he found he could rely on time and time again for anything. You had never betrayed him, in Creed or otherwise.  He took a steadying breath before answering.  “Yes.”

You tried to ignore the burst of warmth in your chest at his admission and what it implied. Instead, you nodded, slowly allowing yourself to move again and continue your care.  “Lean back,” you whispered and he obliged, fully baring his neck to you. It was a vulnerable position, but the cautious movements of your hands crushed any anxiety that threatened to well up in him.

And maybe it was that cautious, careful touch that had begun to wear down his walls; the tenderness you so freely gave that softened his heart and opened him up.  He wanted to make up the last minute to you, to show that he really did trust you.  Maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop the next thing that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Din.”

You paused mid-stitch, confusion flickering on your face.  “What’d you say?”

His heart felt like it was going to fly out of his ribcage.  “My name.  It’s Din.”

Confusion slowly morphed to shock at his revelation.  He had just shared his name with you; something incredibly personal and dear to him. Knowing it felt… intimate.  How many people actually knew his real name? You couldn’t stop that slow smile that had begun to spread on your face.  

“Din,” you repeated, hushed as if someone else would hear.  His heart skipped at the sound of his name on your lips; the soft way your voice curled around the short syllable.  Your eyes peered into his through the visor of his helmet, a question behind them. “Just ‘Din’?”

“Din Djarin,” he corrected.  

You repeated it again, delight clear on your face.  “I like it.”

I do too, he thought.  Especially when you say it.  “You can use it whenever, as long as we’re alone or it’s just the kid.”

“Of course,” you nodded, then added a soft, “Thank you.”  For trusting me.

The two of you had settled back into a comfortable silence, his hands resting comfortably on your hips, and Din couldn’t fathom why you kept biting back a smile.  You were the first to break it.  

“I’m sorry, for all this.”

“It’s fine, it’s not that painful.”  

You shook your head.  “No, I mean—” you gestured at his neck and then to you. “He was aiming for me.”

He scoffed.  “You’re out of your mind if you think I’d let anything happen to you.” You could hear the anger beginning to simmer beneath his words again.  “No, I… I would protect you every single time.  Besides, that osi’yaim got what he deserved in the end.”  

Your eyes flicked to his visor again and you tried to ignore the way the knot in your belly tightened at his promise to you and the shiver his low voice sent down your spine.  Instead, you tried to change the subject.  “Osi’yaim?”

“A useless, despicable person.  A waste of space.”

A soft laugh escaped you lips.  “You need to teach more Mando’a.  Something besides the bad words.”

Din’s heart clenched at your request. Something about you asking to learn his language stirred something deep in him.  “Of course,” he managed to reply, but it came out more strangled than he had meant it to.    

You continued with your task, getting lost in the repeated movements of your fingers.

Watching you work had always fascinated Din.  You granted each injury the same amount of attention, whether it was as small as a papercut or as big as the gash he had now.  It was endearing.  The meticulous way you ensured every stitch, every bandage, was perfect and in place. The adept movements of your fingers, steady with every touch.  The way you bit your lip and furrowed your brow as you concentrated.  

He was captivated by it, and you, every time.

His gaze was concealed by his helmet most of the time, but tonight you could feel the weight of his eyes on you.  Your cheeks began to burn at the thought of him staring at you so closely and you thanked the maker that he couldn’t see the crimson hue painting your face.  

“Are you warm?” he asked, the low rumble of his voice startling you.  

“What?”

“You’ve been shivering since you started, but… you’re all flushed,” he explained.

Your eyes widened at his words, heart stopping.  “Wait—how can you see my—”

“Heat sensors.” Din couldn’t help but notice the way the heat on your face spread even more, down the soft slopes of your neck and chest.

Of course, heat sensors.  You were absolutely mortified, a nervous laugh erupting from your chest.  May as well be honest.  

“No, not warm, more like embarrassed,” you tried to explain, unable to meet his eyes.  

Din tilted his head, trying to understand.  “Why?”

You scoffed.  “’Cause I just realized I’ve been sticking my ugly mug in your face for the past 20 minutes.”      

Din was dumbfounded.  Ugly? The mere thought of you seeing yourself in that way made his heart ache.  How could you think such a thing when he saw you as the most radiant thing in this galaxy?  That, every time he saw you, he had to remind himself to breathe?

He had no idea what the in blazes he was doing, but he knew that he couldn’t let you go on thinking such things about yourself.  Din reached out and tilted your chin up towards him, making you meet his eyes.  

“Cyar’ika, you are the furthest thing from ugly that someone could be.  I—you are absolutely stunning.  Do you—do you know what seeing you in that dress tonight did to me?” he confessed, letting out a breathy laugh.  The front of his pants tightened in reminder.  “I’ll teach you something new in Mando’a right now.”  He paused, letting his fingers brush over your chin. “Mesh’la.”

It felt like you were on fire at that point, burning under his gaze, but somehow you found your voice underneath all the flames.  “What does it mean?” you breathed, unable to mask the tremble in your voice.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “You’re beautiful.”    

Your body betrayed you, melting into a puddle with just a taste of his touch and the boldness of his words.  It was a devastating effect, and there was no denying the dampness that had pooled between your legs now.  You managed to stutter out a, ‘thank you’ before trying to finish the last knot of his stitches.

“All done,” you whispered.    

Din watched as you admired your handiwork and noticed that you made no move to remove yourself from him.  Instead, your hands were softly dragging across the planes of his exposed chest, leaving a trail of fire wherever they went.  It was such a foreign feeling, flesh against flesh on such a shielded part of his body.  He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him there, let alone so gently.  

A strangled sound caught in his throat as you brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, just above the other side of his collarbone.  It was almost too much, the shot of electricity that singed his nerves, but it felt good.

His body involuntarily bucked at the sensation and his hands gripped your hips roughly, pressing you flush against him.  

You gasped at the sensation, of your clothed core dragging against the beskar plate on his thigh, your knee brushing against the bulge that had tented his pants.  Your hands scrabbled to find something, anything, to anchor yourself from the blinding pleasure that fizzled through you.

“Maker,” Din murmured, letting out a shuddering breath.  “Osik, cyar’ika, I’m didn’t mean to touch you like that but—”

“But what if I want you to?” your own voice sounding foreign to your ears.  You did not miss the way his breath hitched, caught in the modulator of his helmet.  

Din’s mind was reeling. “You—you want me to?” he swallowed thickly around the ball of shock that was caught in his throat.  

And you’re nodding, eyes dark and body and mind clouded with need, leading his hands up your torso and chest; but Din, he needs to hear you say it.  “Use your words, cyar’ika.  I need to hear you.”

“Yes, Din.  Please,” and that’s enough to dissolve any shred of self-control he thought he had.  The sound of you saying his name like that, a plea for him and only him, was maddening.  

His hands were on you in an instant; hands that you had seen nearly beat a man to death just for touching you, but on you they were soft, gentle.  Desperate, but tender.  Rough, but passionate and loving.  The contrast was making your head spin.  

“Din,” you whimpered. “You have to be careful, your cut—”

“I don’t care,” he rasped.  “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to touch you?  Make you mine?”  He pulled you closer against him, hands grasping at anything he could reach.  He wanted to erase any trace of the bounty from your presence.

You tried to answer, but you were a mess, filling the cockpit with soft moans and mewls as you bucked your hips on his thigh.  

“I want to watch you make yourself feel good, can you do that?  Just like this?”  You frantically bobbed your head.  “Good,” he answered, stroking your cheek.  “You deserve it after tonight, sweet girl.”

The sound of ‘sweet girl’ sent wet heat straight to your core.  If anything, you thought he was the one that deserved to be taken care of right now.  But you were not about to argue with the Mandalorian who insisted on you using him to get yourself off.    

Your hands pawed at his chest again, struggling to find some kind of purchase to anchor yourself. They finally settled for his biceps, nails digging deep.  He watched as you grinded down on his thigh, eyes screwed shut.  His hands fingered the strap of your dress and you nodded, giving him permission to slide it down.  

Din took in the sight of your bare chest, your nipples pebbling in the cold air of the cockpit. He ached to take them into his mouth, hear you whimper and moan against his tongue, but he settled for brushing his gloved fingers over them and watching you arch.  

You ground down harder, desperate you get the friction you needed.  Din’s hands slipped from your breasts down back to your hips, stilling them.  A high whine escaped your throat and it was almost pitiful.  

“Up,” he instructed, confusion marring your face as you lifted yourself off his leg.  He gripped the thigh plate and dropped it to the ground, promptly setting you back onto his thigh.  “Wanna feel you,” he growled, and you could only moan in response.  

Soon enough, your arousal had seeped through your panties and onto the fabric of his pants.  The heady smell hit his nose and his mouth watered, desperate to know what you tasted like, to know what sounds you would make if he buried his face between your thighs.  

You guided his hands back up your chest, up to your neck.  His fingers cupped your face again, thumb brushing the bottom of your lip. You held his hand in place, biting the leather tip of his glove and slowly slid it off, letting it drop between you.

The feeling of his bare thumb resting on your lips sent another wave of arousal through you.  “Wanna feel you,” you breathed, grinning before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking hard.  Din’s eyes rolled back and he groaned; the sight of your hollowed-out cheeks and the sensation of your tongue on the pad of his thumb nearly sent him over the edge.  

One hand trailed to the base of your neck, tangling itself softly in your hair.  He took in the way your eyes were screwed shut, the furrow in your brows as you chased your high.  You had taken your bottom lip between your teeth, biting hard and almost splitting it from the pressure.  It was almost the same concentrated expression you wore as you tended to his injuries, though it was clear you were concentrated on something far more rewarding now.  

“Mesh’la,” he commanded.  “Look at me.”

You wretched your eyes open, fixing your gaze on him.  

Din watched, enraptured, as you continued to pleasure yourself.  You were a sight before him; pupils blown, mouth agape, chest heaving as you tried to ease the ache in your belly.  He was lost in the way your eyes sparkled, perfectly matching the dark galaxy you were set against just outside the viewport.  

Your moans filled the cockpit, desperate sounds and pleads of Din’s name as he sent delicious licks of pleasure throughout your body.  You held on for dear life, panting as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

He feels the tension simmering from your shuddering figure, like a coil just waiting to spring.

“Are you close, mesh’la?” he whispered, his words and the rasp of his voice sending you higher and higher.  “Are you going to come for me?”

And you’re a wreck, whimpering and pleading, yes, Din, yes; and all Din can think is he can die happy knowing how you moan his name.  He shifts you, pulls you right onto the straining bulge in his pants and you both gasp, the sensation pulling you even closer to your orgasm.  A bare hand snakes between where the two of you are pressed against each other and he presses right onto your clit.  

A sob tears from your throat and stars burst behind your eyes as you’re pushed off the edge; and you’re falling, waves of ecstasy washing over you and burning straight to your toes. Din holds you close as your body continues to shudder, a steady hand on your back coaxing you down from your high. He lets out a groan when he feels evidence of your orgasm seep through to his clothed cock.    

Fog clouds the bottom of his helmet as you softly pant, the pleasure lulling to a dull thrum in your veins. He’s admiring your sleepy eyes, the flushed cheeks of your afterglow.  You give off a shy smile, peering into his visor.  “Beautiful,” he murmurs right next to your ear.  “Just like I said.” 

“Thank you,” you hum, pressing a searing kiss onto his bare neck and sliding a hand over the hardness trapped beneath you.  

Din hisses at your touch and you laugh, trying to ease the ache between his own legs.  “Mesh’la,” he warns, grunting at the loss of contact as you lift yourself off him and slide between his knees, kneeling.  

“Yes?” you respond, sliding your hands up and down his thighs, and pausing at the button of his pants.

“You don’t have to—” he starts, but you quickly cut him off.

“But I want to, Din,” you assured.  You rest your head on his knee, peering up at him with wide, innocent eyes, awaiting his permission.  “Wanna return the favor, wanna taste you,” and you grin at the strangled sound that leaves his throat.  He couldn’t deny you even if he wanted to.  

Finally, he nods, spreading his legs wider to accommodate you.  Your smile grows and your nimble fingers make quick work of the buttons on his pants.  You’re just about to free him from the confines of his boxers when an alarm signal sounds from the ship, startling the both of you.  

“Come in, Mando,” Greef Karga’s voice crackled through the small room.  “We’ve got a problem.  I repeat, we’ve got an emergency, please come in.”

Din groans and you throw an exasperated look towards the comms on the control panel.  “Just ignore him, it can’t be that—” and you’re cut off by another sound.

The unmistakable sound of a baby crying.  

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, pressing your forehead into Din’s knee.  You loved that little green bean to death, but damn him for his horrific timing.  Din softly slid his hand over yours and you looked up.  

“It’s alright, cyar’ika,” he hummed.  “Go check on him,” and you slowly nodded, shooting him an apologetic look before rising from your spot on the floor.

Din watched in mild amusement as you wobbled to the door, before turning his chair towards the control panel and sighing.  His own arousal was almost overwhelming, but he did his best to shove it to the back of his mind.  

Whatever Greef needed, it had better be good, he grumbled in his head.  

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

mando’a translations:

osi’kovid – shithead

skanah – very hated person, fucker

osik – shit

osi’yaim – cowardly, useless person

cyar’ika – darling, beloved

mesh’la – beautiful

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

thank you for reading! let me know what ya think!

[chockfullofsecrets]

Critical Role: Embarrassing and Undignified

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: Caleb doesn’t smile much. It’s something he rather likes about the man, that he prefers to save his pleasure for that which is truly worth it - but there’s nothing else he can call the expression that briefly narrows those blue eyes. “Reacting like that in front of a friendly tiefling?” he says - teasing, almost, and Essek feels his stomach flip. “I am not so sure.”

Essek's time in the hot tub goes a little awry.

Wordcount: 3.3k

A/N: Fill for this anon prompt! (i’m so sorry for taking 2+ months to write this... i love Essek so much and he needs more tk content)

---

Essek is no stranger to being - unusual. He often welcomes it, really. Achieving a status such as his for the better part of a century comes with its fair share of eccentricities, his floating among them, and at this point hovering just above the rest of the Dynasty has become something of a favored routine.

And yet, it seems, the Nein have him beaten at every turn.

He had meant to take his leave directly after dinner, unsure of his place among Yasha’s solemn questions of loneliness and Beauregard’s transparent attempts to pry information from him and Jester’s threat to invoke a Zone of Truth for idle gossip -

(and the slight jealousy, he admits, if only to himself, of seeing Caleb, ambitious and focused and loved, among them - )

But. Lonely and friendless he is, as has been quite thoroughly pointed out to him through the evening, and he’s intrigued enough by the rarity of this hot tub to clamber up awkwardly onto the enclosing stone wall and dangle his feet into the water while his hosts bustle around and shuck off various pieces of clothing.

Caleb sits next to him, rolling his own pant legs crisply to the knee and lowering his feet in. “What do you think?”

He looks over - thank the Light, Caleb’s still wearing his shirt. “It’s - nice,” he says. He drags his toe through a slow stream of bubbles rising from what he assumes must be the hottest parts of the depths. “Unfamiliar, but quite impressive that you’ve constructed it on your own.”

Caleb raises an eyebrow. “The hot tub, or -” He traces a small circle with his index finger, encompassing himself and his companions. “- all of this?”

Decades of court experience well up unbidden on his tongue. “The compliment extends to you either way,” he offers smoothly.

Caleb squints at him, but before he can say anything more the rest of the Nein are joining them with pleased exclamations and a thoroughly distracting amount of splashing. Essek watches, bemused, as Jester flops in belly-first before even unbuckling the last clasp of her outergarments - she wrestles them off, finally, crumpling the dripping green cloak into a ball and flinging it away, and he winces on behalf of the fine Kryn fabric.

She looks around, eyes lighting on him, and her hands fly to her round cheeks with an excited gasp. “Essek! Your legs!”

Startled, he looks down - they seem quite normal, with his boots off and his neatly pressed trousers folded at the knee, if a little more purple than anyone else’s present. “I would prefer to keep my clothes dry, yes.”

She leans in, eyes wide. “Are they re-al?”

Light be with him - she’s hardly said anything, but he struggles not to flush under the scrutiny. “Ah, yes? Why should they not be?”

Just then, something brushes lightly over the sole of his foot - he startles, and -

His seat is well made, certainly, but not enough to stand up to the Nein’s shenanigans; as he recoils, his center of gravity shifts right off the narrow ledge and he’s tumbling backwards before he can do more than blink.

Light, if this is how he dies -

He flails for a solution - it’s been years, at least, since he’s done something so pedestrian as fall, and there are spells for this, certainly, but what he’s prepared for today is more showy fare, in case the Nein asked for a demonstration, why can’t he think -

A hand closes roughly around his bicep, then another around the opposite shoulder, and then he’s dangling from Caleb’s grip with his back nearly parallel to the floor - he reaches out too, panicked, and crumples the front of Caleb’s shirt in a death grip.

“Good reflexes,” he says, breathless. Blood pounds in his ears. Caleb stares down at him, blue eyes wide and jaw tight -

“Ooh, now kiss!” Jester hoots.

The rest of the Nein burst into laughter behind them. Caleb goes bright red and hurriedly turns away, looking over his shoulder. “One of you jokers come here and help me, please,” he chides, strained, “I am not the muscle of this group.”

The tension in Caleb’s face becomes infinitely more explicable - finally capable of rational thought, Essek flicks his fingers and casts a weight-lightening cantrip just as another strong hand latches onto his knee and bodily tows him upright. Yasha nods at him, chest completely bare, and wades back to her corner as Veth pops up from nowhere with her long ears twitching maniacally. “I’m SO sorry,” she screeches, insistent far beyond the point of sincerity. “I brushed against your feet COMPLETELY ON ACCIDENT.”

“VERY ACCIDENTAL,” Jester agrees loudly. Next to her, Fjord winces.

Veth’s voice softens, then, as she pats him gingerly on the leg. “I didn’t think you would do that - are you okay?”

“It’s all right,” he says weakly. Her ears droop in what seems to be genuine relief - it is pointless to care, perhaps, but he feels better for having reassured her.

He sucks in a solid breath for what feels like the first time in minutes and turns to Caleb to thank him. There’s still a guarding hand resting warmly against his back - and worse still, he realizes belatedly that his own hand is still fisted in the buttons of Caleb’s shirt.

He snatches it hastily away, ears burning. “Ah, my apologies. I shall pay closer attention to gravity, for the rest of the night.”

Caleb doesn’t smile much. It’s something he rather likes about the man, that he prefers to save his pleasure for that which is truly worth it - but there’s nothing else he can call the expression that briefly narrows those blue eyes. “Reacting like that in front of a friendly tiefling?” he says - teasing, almost, and Essek feels his stomach flip. “I am not so sure.”

A friendly -

Surprised, he glances over at Jester and finds her wearing a smug expression that might not be out of place on Da’leth himself, if significantly sweeter. “E-ssek,” she wheedles, wide-eyed with delight, drawing every syllable to its maximum extent. “Are your feet like, super ticklish?”

Essek blinks - ticklish? But he hasn’t - really, he can’t remember the last time he might have known. As a child, perhaps, when Verin used to tempt him into playing by tackling him straight off his feet and -

Oh. Oh, dear.

At least that particular piece of evidence is decades out of date - a poor excuse to discard it, but he’s willing to compromise in the face of Jester’s ever-sharpening grin and the traitorously pleased squirm in the pit of his own stomach. “What? No, of course not, I was merely surprised-”

“You can be surprised and ticklish,” Jester corrects, skipping forward with a splash. Essek shirks back into Caleb’s hand, millimeters from tumbling off the ledge again, and she giggles. “And I’m pret-ty sure that you’re both.”

The hot tub, for all of its excellent qualities, is unfortunately not large enough to keep her at bay for longer than that. She reaches out as he’s still deciding which direction would be the best to flee in and scoops his ankle up in a grip like steel. “Ah-” he sputters. “I - Jester, wait-”

She drags a fingernail up the arch of his foot.

It feels like one of the few times while developing a lightning-based spell that he’d electrocuted himself - but the feeling doesn’t stop, shooting up his leg and tickling at his lungs too to make them shiver, and it’s silly, and he just -

He panics, jerks back against Caleb’s hand again, and in a moment of brash stupidity the animal instinct of his brain decides that the only safe place to hide is Caleb himself. He buries his face in Caleb’s side and grabs him around the waist just in time to shriek as Jester repeats the same lazy route up and down the sole of his foot, pausing only to scratch tingling patterns into his heel. “Tickle, tickle! Aw, guys, he’s so ticklish, look at how much he’s laughing!”

The fabric of Caleb’s shirt isn’t much of a barrier to Jester’s teasing - or to his own ticklish laughter, embarrassingly high-pitched and loud in a way that makes his whole face heat with shame - but at least they can’t see him blush.

Caleb jumps a little as Essek latches onto him, but his hand stays put, stabilizing, and starts to rub gentle circles on his back as Essek dissolves into cackling at another spidering assault on his arch. “Jester, please be gentle,” he says, amused. “I am not sure that is a good idea.”

Essek’s not sure how he feels either. It’s terribly embarrassing, and undignified, and if this was happening in front of any other being in the Dynasty he would have to learn some sort of memory erasure spell, but - the Nein have never cared for his layers upon layers of decorum anyway, have they, always prying for indignation and confusion and warmth that he’s not certain he even possesses.

Caught between Jester and Caleb and a vat of hot water, with the rest of the Nein making relatively amused noises behind him, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt warmer.

Jester just laughs. “I’m barely doing anything!” she teases, shaking Essek’s leg lightly. “He’s just so sensitive - oh, Essek, is it ‘cause you never walk anywhere? Is that why your feet are so soft and tickly?”

He’s giddy, even with the sudden reprieve, giggling too hard to speak. “I - ha - I dohon’t - ehe-”

“Of course it is,” Beauregard says smugly from a distance that seems far too close, “waving all those secrets and magic over our heads and he’s hoisted on his own fuckin’ petard-”

“What’s that?” Caduceus asks. Essek vaguely remembers the term to describe some sort of bomb, but Jester chooses that moment to send her mischievous fingers exploring under his fucking toes and it tickles like absolute hell. He shrieks even louder than before, if such a thing were possible, and makes a solid attempt to burrow his way straight into Caleb’s ribcage as his entire leg jolts in involuntary protest. No amount of desperate attempts to flex or curl his foot make the sensation any more bearable - it’s like the sucking feeling of a Teleport spell, like everything inside him is unmoored and floating in a sea of mirth and the only way he can get any of it out is to scream.

His cheeks hurt and he realizes, suddenly, that he’s beaming.

Jester cackles. “Come get his other foot, Beau,” she urges, easing off to just pinch his big toe between two fingers and wiggle it. “He totally loves it, he’s not even kicking-”

“Uh-huh,” Beauregard says, and there’s another splash. “Maybe I will.”

Caleb’s still rubbing his back - he stops, briefly, and from his huddled position Essek feels that Beauregard has jostled his other side on her way past. “His feet might be worse than yours,” she murmurs. He can hear the grin in her voice. “Better hope Jes doesn’t remember and go after you next.”

“Don’t remind her,” Caleb says, strangled. It’s remarkably friendly for Beauregard, though, and Essek is once again caught up in the paradox of this little group - merciless but fiercely protective, reluctant but trusting. It’s hard to be regretful - or wistful, maybe, one of those feelings that twinges in his chest every time he thinks of the Nein nowadays - with Jester tickling her way up the back of his bare calf and cooing over the way it makes him wriggle. But his heart, a traitor to the last, manages. There are so many secrets between them still.

Beauregard seizes his other ankle, hauling it up from the water, and he realizes for one terrible moment that if they were to, say, force him out of hiding and keep tickling, he might be inclined to spill some of them. “Scoot over, Jes,” Beauregard says, and there’s a squeak that, for once in the evening, doesn’t come from him. She chuckles. “Good thing he’s not trying to tickle you back, huh?”

He expects Jester to sputter and redirect her, as he would, but she sounds entirely unconcerned at the prospect. “Oh, Beau, do you want to have a tickle fight? We totally could, after this-”

“No,” she says, not entirely drowning out the little panicked noise that Caleb makes. “Not the kind of wrestling I want to do when half of us aren’t wearing shirts, if you know what I mean-”

“Beau!” Jester shrieks, giggling. Fjord groans loudly from the other side of the hot tub, and Essek, still squirming, is very sure that he’s blushing enough for it to show on the back of his neck, under his high collar. “Who do you want to wrestle with? Is it Yasha-”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, moving on.” Beauregard interrupts hastily. There’s a popping noise that takes a second for Essek to place as her cracking her knuckles. “Hey, Essek - you think you’d trade another favor to get us to stop?”

Essek flails for something resembling a complete sentence as Jester’s fingers curl teasingly behind one of his knees. “Nngh - heh-”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She squeezes the back of his other knee, barks out a laugh as he jumps. “Jes, stop messing around, let’s get his feet.”

That makes him kick, but at this point his entire lower half is restrained - all he can do is take one last breath before fingertips are scribbling over both his soles and he’s cackling so forcefully that his laughter peaks into agonized wheezing with each fresh gulp of air. “Hhh - ha - ahahaaaa, hA -”

Caleb shifts a little, bending until one of the strands that always hang stubbornly loose from where he ties his hair back brushes the tip of Essek’s burning ear. Essek shivers. “You can tell them to stop, you know,” he murmurs.

Essek’s almost entirely sure that he’s crying into Caleb’s shirt, tears leaking from squeezed-shut eyes as Beauregard and Jester torment his feet, but Caleb seems - fond, oddly - as he starts to rub his back again. “They’re not trying to be cruel - I believe they’re just excited that you’ve. Ah. Lowered yourself to our level, perhaps.”

And what level is that, Essek wants to ask, suddenly conjuring a mental image of Caleb in the same throes of helpless laughter. But he’s barely capable of that, as he’s currently dying, so he just tightens his grip on Caleb and shakes his head. He can barely even register Jester and Beauregard’s teasing anymore - he doesn’t think he can speak right now without embarrassing himself even more if he tried.

“Fuck, alright,” Fjord says abruptly from somewhere miles away, “I think he’s actually crying now, the Dynasty is going to have our heads if we break him.”

“He wouldn’t let them, he’s our friend,” Jester trills, but she does stop tickling, ghosting a hand up over his heaving shoulders to pat him gently on the head. “His ears are really purple though, like magenta purple, I think he’s blushing.”

For some reason - perhaps because he can finally think - it strikes him, fighting through the warm and pleasantly tingling haze of being touched and gentled back into himself, that as much as the casual label of friend pleases him he cannot afford this kind of vulnerability.

“Or suffocating,” Beauregard says a moment later, dropping his foot unceremoniously back into the water. “Thelyss? You alive in there?”

And, a beat later, when he doesn’t reply - “Are you just, like, smelling Caleb now?”

“Gross,” Veth squawks. “Get him off, get him off!”

Caleb smells quite pleasant, actually, but that’s not the point - his self-awareness is slowly trickling back in as he remembers who and where he is, and what he’s done to the Nein, and now they’ve broken him and he would rather die than look any of them in the eye for the next year.

Caleb pats his back. “Come on, friend, chin up.”

And he’s right, Essek can’t afford to cling to this veneer of comfort any longer - but to his immediate and eternal shame, he whines and nuzzles further into Caleb’s ribs. Just a moment to gather his wits, maybe, and he’ll be able to Misty Step to the front door and don his mantle-

“No? Alright, then - I’ll go to work too, if I have to.”

The hand on his back lifts away and walks itself on two prodding fingers neatly up under Essek’s arm, gently wriggling into the hollow until he can’t bear to keep his arms up any longer. “Nnn, hnn! - eheh, thahat’s - enough, please-”

It’s. It’s not, is the problem - he tries to stir up anger, distaste, but there’s only fear. He would deal with this indignity again, suffer it gladly, even, just to have them speak to him kindly. It’s new, and terrifying, and he needs to think it over alone with a generous glass of wine in his tower.

He shrinks back in on himself, still snickering at the tickling under his arms, and Caleb takes the opportunity to grab him neatly by the shoulders and sit him back up - Essek catches a glimpse of his blue eyes shining with rare merriment and promptly swivels to look away from all of them. No one stops him as he rolls his pant legs down and shoves his feet into his boots, heedless of the damp. He can feel their curious gazes prickle on the back of his neck - shifting into an unconscious competence that’s carried him through many anxieties before, he’s already floating off the ground before he can remind himself otherwise. “I’m going to go now,” he says, rushed, still too terrified to turn his head. “Thank you, I -”

“Essek, wait!” Jester says, confused, and Beau scoffs, and he’s not going to think about how he can recognize their voices without even seeing them, he’s not -

Yasha’s voice, at last, breaks through the hubbub, and it’s only in deference to their conversation before dinner that he pauses to listen.

“Hey,” she says, quiet and certain enough to shake him. “You said that you’re lonely, right?”

The noise fades away. He inches down to the ground with it. “Recently, yes,” he replies, just above a whisper, fighting to keep his voice steady with the enormity of this, this feeling -

“I didn’t say so before,” she continues, perfectly calm, “but it’s a little scary, right? To not be so lonely, anymore.”

Essek says nothing - he knows, without the mantle, that they can all see the slight tremble of his shoulders.

“Go away, then,” she says confidently, and then, hastily, “oh, no, that’s not right -”

“Yasha,” Jester squeaks, horrified, and Essek, to his own surprise, laughs. More of a chuckle, really, but. That’s a relief, after all this.

He can place her roughly in the rightmost corner of the hot tub, turns just enough to catch her heterochromatic gaze in his periphery. Her mouth drops slightly open before she gathers herself. “I just, I meant -” She inhales nervously. “I used to leave all the time, to go do - things - and come back when I was ready. You can do that too, if you want, we won’t mind, as long as you come back. And the tickling - we’re all ticklish, you don’t have to feel bad about it - ah, maybe someone else should say something.”

Caduceus pats her shoulder. “Nah, that was pretty good.”

Essek agrees, despite his better judgment. He rolls his shoulders, forcing them loose. “No, no, that’s - helpful,” he assures, and then, taking a deep breath and praying that his cheeks have cooled, he turns to look at them all. “I am to show you my abode tomorrow, yes?”

Caleb looks extraordinarily stressed. “Ah, you don’t have to, if you would rather-”

Beau punches him in the shoulder harshly enough to make him wince. “Yes.”

“Yes, and breakfast pastries!” Jester cheers, clapping her hands together - he’ll have to talk to his staff tonight.

“Until tomorrow, then,” he says, and spares only a brief smile before casting Misty Step to take him to the door and then again to the street.

He’s not quite ready to lose all his dignity, yet.

[sunriseseance]

please,,, even if you dont answer this publicly i wanna know your In Depth Thoughts on fanon klaus and the issues w him bc i also have issues w fanon klaus but i cant put it in words

This got SO LONG, so I hope you meant it when you said you wanted in depth! Holy shit I sorta lost my mind on this.

In my early days as a bear-poker in this fandom, I described fanon!Klaus as that person who gets resurrected in a horror movie and comes back different. As an audience member, I can tell he's wrong, but nobody interacting with him directly seems to know this. I've also talked a little bit about Klaus and intelligence before, which plays into any discussion about fanon!Klaus, but I'll be more specific here. Before I get started, I wanna say that fandom is a fun space and I don't think anyone is *bad* for creating/enjoying fanon!Klaus, especially not for the third reason I lay out. I just think he's awful, and has some harmful roots that I doubt the people writing him even know about on a conscious level.

Okay, let's get into this. Because I'm me and Wittgenstein's early work that he later disagreed with has changed my entire way of interacting with the world, I'm gonna define my terms. Let's talk about what fanon!Klaus is LIKE before we talk about why I REALLY DON'T LIKE HIM. Fanon!Klaus is a happy, stupid, sweet, childish, bubbly, luminous free spirit. He wears bubblegum pink skirts and he cries when Diego eats his cookies. He doesn't know what numbers are, he can't count, he can't walk and chew gum, he thinks that Africa is a country, he forgets that homophobia exists, he doesn't know that drugs are bad for him, the list goes on (These are all real examples. Can you tell what part of fanon annoys me the most?). He cries at the drop of a hat, and doesn't understand his place in the family. He'd move heaven and earth to help the people around him, and he'd never be mean to anyone but Luther (and even then just barely) He constantly needs attention, supervision, etc. He makes jokes about modern memes and listens exclusively to pop music. He's really damaged but it's only because nobody Took Care Of Him and he needs someone to Rescue Him.

Canon Klaus is mean, and quick, and sharp, and miserable, and hiding, and funny because you're laughing WITH him, and an old soul, and a goth, and chronically apathetic, and selfish, and so fucking smart, and acutely aware of just how much he matters to other people. He makes rape jokes, he figures out how to get info on the eye while high out of his mind, he speaks like 10 languages, he listens to Nina Simone, he uses people's inherent fear of the dead to buy himself time, he finds the perfect story within the dead to cause a rift, he tells Luther TO HIS FACE that he doesn't care if the world ends. Klaus is a fascinating study in queer trauma, and robbing him of these traits is a complete disservice to yourself AND the character.

I say this often about fanon!Klaus, but WHO IS THIS??? Like…. Okay, if I gave you this list and you didn't know it was about Klaus, would you think it was? I think he's literally unrecognizable. He's not any of the things I know or love about Klaus. He's nobody to me, except a nuisance wearing the same skin suit and clogging the tags. He is also, weirdly, the most popular character in the entire fandom. I wanna think about why, and I have 3 theories that I think can all be true separately or simultaneously instance to instance.

First, fanon!Klaus exists because of internalized homophobia, classism, and anti-addict rhetoric. I think that on some level people don't believe addicts, feminine queer men, or homeless people are capable of intelligence. I think people see Klaus's canonical positive traits and they sort of throw them out the window because they don't make sense with their world view. A queer addict is a helpless tragedy, and he's someone that needs rescuing by Kind Strong Dave. A queer addict can't be smart, because then he wouldn't be an addict. A queer addict can't be wily, or interesting, because then he wouldn't be an addict. Fandom sees a feminine queer mlm and knows he should be in a sparkly bubblegum pink skirt, and saying "dahling" or "wig" or whatever else all the time. They know he should be bashful and submissive and always falling into the arms of Kind Strong Dave who protects him from Evil. They also know he should really, really like Britney Spears, and not give a shit about Nina Simone.

Second, fanon!Klaus exists because people want to excuse negative behavior in their favorite characters. Klaus is selfish and mean and apathetic. He just is. These are flaws that haunt him, and define a lot of his interactions. These are, also, pretty tough flaws to excuse (which… Hey…. I have a solution for that). I think that fanon Klaus, who just doesn't GET that he's being mean, and is too stupid not to become an addict (I don't think addiction is a flaw, but I do think that addiction plays into this), and is too out of touch and childish to understand that he shouldn't just fucking leave, comes from a place of wanting Klaus to be a good person who does good things. I'm sorry, but he isn't. Not always. I think the impulse to make him constantly sweet and constantly stupid comes from wanting Klaus's actions to be fundamentally excusable. He can't help it! He's just too much of a useless twink to know that it's bad to lie! (also, side note, fanon!Ben comes from this side of fanon!Klaus. In canon, Klaus is self destructing on purpose and Ben's presence helps…. Maybe, possibly, twice. In fanon, Klaus is just stupid and he needs a babysitter and that is Ben, the motiveless, endlessly loving but Exhausted braincell holder. This is fucked up on many levels. Ben is an asshole, and we all need to get used to that idea quick).

The third and final reason is that fanon!Klaus is… More fun, in the traditional sense of the word. Fanon!Klaus seems like he comes from a very emotional romcom or sitcom or something. He's like a barbie. He's fun to play dress-up with. He's fun to make incorrect quotes about. He's fun to write about, especially when it's about his siblings herding him or coddling him. Good ol' useless, loveable Klaus. I think this is partially because Klaus is a pretty fucking heavy character. He's a traumatized homeless queer drug addict, and that's sort of hard to make jokey fandom content about. Not impossible, I don't think, but not easy. This isn't to say that angsty fandom content isn't guilty of fanon!Klaus, though. It absolutely is. Often when Klaus willingly shares his feelings, or cries in front of someone, or asks for help for something more intense than tying him to a chair, it's fanon!Klaus. Hell, any time he GETS rescued it's teetering into that territory. He's still completely devoid of all of the grit and intrigue of canon, but he's fun to write about, and fun to project onto, and fun to rescue. He's also EASIER to write. People know that Klaus is a funny character, they know they laugh when he's on screen, but it is WAY harder to write a character you're laughing with than it is to write a character you're laughing at. It's WAY easier to write a character who moves your angst plot on by asking for help, or necessitating rescuing, than it is to work out how these things would happen without initiation. I get it, and in spite of the length of this, I don't think it's the end of the world.

I guess as I close this out, I would remind everyone that Klaus is smart, and mean, and over 30 years old. He's not a babe in the woods, or a damsel in distress, or a useless silly junkie twink. I promise that the real Klaus is worth the time and effort it takes to engage with him.

[sp00kymulderr]

eupnea (Ezra x Reader)

Warnings: Just sickeningly sweet fluff, no plot. Kissing.

Pairing: Ezra x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,902

Request: once upon a time @goldafterglow​ sent me an ask that just said “Hi the only! thing! I can think about right now is nuzzling Ezra’s tummy and making him giggle because he is a sweet good boy with a soft tum and he deSeRVES IT PLS SOMEONE NUZZLE HIS TUM OR I’LL RIOT” and I took it and ran with it, in a completely different direction.

A/N: Ok so there is tummy nuzzling in this but it’s not the main feature of the fic, but I did fit it in. Hands up if you would also really like to be nuzzling Ezra’s soft little tum right now.

Like a moth to the flame, unable to resist his radiance, you were drawn to Ezra from the very beginning.

When you had met, you working mechanics for a contract while he was there to dig, you didn’t really believe in love. Certainly not love at first sight, true love, soulmates. None of those old fairy tales your mother told you growing up. You hadn’t felt it before, never needed anyone in that way.

But then there was Ezra and you felt struck by lightning.

Even when he put on a show to the others of being the intimidating vagrant fringeling only looking to make credit, you saw straight through it. He was more, had so much to him. His presence thrilled you, made your blood pump like molten liquid through your veins, you knew you would never be able to get enough.

And oh, Ezra was resplendent. When he smiled it warmed every cold part of your being, his laugh lighting up the bleak constant dark of the planet you were stationed on. Beautiful too. Like none before him, there was no hope for you. From those shining, wide eyes to his striking nose, the unusual patch of blonde at the front of his soft head of hair to the small silvered scar below one eye. You never wanted to look upon another face again.

He felt it too. Desperate with it, seeking you out at each opportunity. Spending hours in your tent just talking, him with that sticky sweet voice and words spilling from him like honey from the jar. You swapped stories of life on the fringe and futures you could barely let yourself imagine. Quickly overcome with longing - lingering gazes and grazing hands, hiding away together with your fingers interlaced and your hearts becoming ever more entangled.

And yes he admit to you he had a past, and he was certainly not faultless, but you understood that beyond anything else he was a man with true heart. Genuine and kind where it mattered despite everything, despite the pain you saw in him that he tried so hard to hide. Despite growing up in a world so unforgiving, where he had quickly learnt to be cunning and devious to survive. He hadn’t let his lot in life completely determine his humanity.

You loved him more with every new part of himself that he revealed to you.

With Ezra, it was immediately like all the little pieces of life's puzzle were put together. It all made sense. Everything. It was the most powerful thing you had ever experienced. You both knew, from the very beginning, this thing between you was life-changing. Nothing would pull you apart.

***

After that contract had ended you decided to stay together, impossible to part when you dreamt only of each other.

And now in what feels like a different lifetime, you are settled. A particularly fortuitous dig with enough successfully mined aurelac to fill several cases and only one barely escaped ambush had left you both with enough credits that you could actually find a home, a comfortable cabin tucked away in beautiful unspoilt forest, this place is for the two of you and no one else. Having somewhere the two of you could call home felt like the most beautiful luxury you could imagine.

To begin with you had been concerned that Ezra would regret his decision, you understood his need to rest a while now that he could - you were both so weary, had both been through so much in this life. But he was so accustomed to being constantly on the move, not staying in the same place for long enough to call it home. Part of you fearing he would come to resent you for tying him down to this place, this quiet life, you.

The look on his face now though tells you clearly that he is perfectly content.

You rest together on the plush, comfortable couch – your head in his lap as he absent-mindedly brushes his fingers against your jaw with a lazy smile. He glows; rested and nourished, well fed and well loved, and your heart swells with pride to know that is your doing – that you had in hand in renewing a tired spirit. A slow tune drifts through the air from the crackly old speakers on the opposite side of the room, and you close your eyes as you sing along in a happy daze.

“My beautiful little songbird” he chuckles as the music fades out leaving you singing on your own, and when you open your eyes he’s looking down at you with the kind of adoration that takes your breath away each time. He loves you so deeply, so fierce and yet gently. Even after years he holds you like you are something more brilliant than any gem he ever pulled from the ground.

“You’re the beautiful one” you murmur, reaching up to stroke a hand against his cheek, tracing gently over the small silvery scar, “I’m just here to provide some music”.

“And you certainly do that, such sweet music. But I see we’re at an impasse, birdie, because I cannot accept such a title while you’re here making all the goddesses envious”

“Hush,” you grin, “let me have this. Don’t I deserve to see my love smile so bright as I tell him he’s more brilliant than every star in the night sky?”

He laughs turning slightly bashful at your words but it’s there, the beautiful curve of his plush lips to grace you with that genuine smile. You do adore seeing him like that, to make him know how much you adore him and see him lose his words because of it. There was a time before when he didn’t take compliments so well and you had to convince him that each loving word was true, those days when he was haunted by his past ventures and the loss of his limb. And it had hurt to see him struggle like that, watch him so slowly come to terms with it.

Ezra starts to say something in return, something you’re sure will be nothing short of poetry meant to flatter you, but interrupts himself with a wide yawn, his torso stretching up with it and causing the grey fabric of his shirt to ride up slightly. The movement reveals the gentle swell of soft golden skin that you are so fond of, that you have often laid your head on as you talked for hours, and that now is another sign of the good life you’re finally living together. You move and hand to where the fabric has ridden up, just resting it there for a moment as he returns to himself to look down at you with that dopey, lazy, happiness written all over his face.

“I love you so much” you stutter, taken by the way he looks framed by the orange glow of setting sun through the window.

“Every bit of you, more than I could ever say” you sigh, moving your head to nuzzle your cheek against his stomach then turn to kiss it, a light giggle floating down to you, “I’m so grateful that my star brought me to you”.

“Your star?” Ezra asks, you hum a yes against his skin then kiss again. His hand lies at the side of your neck, pleasent stroke of his thumb against you.

“Didn’t I tell you the story? The soul star?”

“I can recall every story you’ve ever shared with me, songbird. I can conjure up where we were and exactly how you told it at any given moment. This one is new to me and I would be delighted to hear you tell it, please” he answers, excitement wavering in his tone, he always loves to listen to you.

“Ok, I’ll tell it.” you chuckle, brushing against his belly with your cheek again, feeling him relax further in to the couch as you do.

“It was one of those romantic old wives tales my mother used to share. I never believed it, couldn’t understand it until we met”, you punctuate your words with another tender press of your lips to his skin. “She told me every one of us has a star, our own incredible bright light that watches over us, up in the distance keeping an eye on us. She said our star knows what we need and when we need it, and when it comes to the right time the star will call out to us. If we answer the call and follow where it leads, it will take us to the place our soul belongs”

He hums softly, letting you continue as his hand comes to cover yours that lays on him.

“It was told often, and I always laughed it off. I didn’t feel I belonged anywhere, you know that. But then there was the job, the one on Triada Five,” Ezra squeezes your hand at this, the job you had met on “I didn’t want to take it, it was long and the ship was a rust-bucket that looked like it wouldn’t make it half way there. I was about to turn it down, figured I could make the same credits fixing ships on the Pug, but something...something stopped me. It was like a tiny voice whispering in my ear, comforting and kind, told me that if I took the job I would find everything I needed. And I didn’t even doubt it, didn’t question it at all.”

“It was your star” Ezra mutters, intrigued, absolutely taken in by your story.

You nod, skin soft against his where your head rests, before moving to sit up and placing yourself in his lap. You can feel the pooling of tears in your eyes, you had never let yourself believe it entirely but hearing him say it overwhelms you. If you hadn’t taken that job, who knows if your paths would ever have crossed. Whether it was your soul star, or fate, or pure dumb luck you don’t know but you are grateful of whatever force was in play then.

“I suppose it was my star. I think it called out, and led me to you, Ezra. And I think here-” you place a hand on his chest, over his heart, “is where I belong. With you”

You feel a tear trickle from the corner of your eye, Ezra quickly catching it and wiping it away before he pushes forwards to kiss your lips.

“I think you’re correct, birdie. And it’s dawning on me that I felt it too, long ago” he reveals, arm coming around your middle to pull you closer, “I was lead through galaxies to you. You are my reason for everything”

And then he’s kissing you again; deep and never-ending, just you and him and the peaceful chorus of rustling trees in the forest around the cabin.

You remain like that for a long while, bodies pressed together, mouths open in quiet adoration of the other. The sun leaving the sky as you find yourselves through each other again and again. When he finally pulls away, you are breathless and bursting full of pure affection.

“Come on, songbird,” Ezra says as you chase his lips for once more kiss “Let’s wander down to the lake. The stars are out and I believe we owe them our gratitude”

Permanent tag list:

@youhavereachedtheendofpie​ @princessbatears​ @catfishingmorales​ @hdlynn​ @fleetwoodmactshirt​ @chews-erotically​ @keeper0fthestars​ @marydjarin​ @readsalot73​ @a-seeker-of-imagination​ @agentpike​ @heatherbel​ @din-damn-djarin​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @mstgsmy​ @sin-djarin​ @huliabitch​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @dindjar-n​ @softpedropascal​ @millllenniawrites​ @blancatobarxoxo​ @cyaredindjarin​ @goblinqueen95​ @knittingqueen13​ @teaofpeach​ @agirllovespancakes​ @insomniamamma​

Ezra tag list:

@pedropascallion​ @justanotherblonde23​

[smutandfluffohmy]

Homework extension

From: Smutandfluffohhmy Pairing: OUAT Peter Pan Professor! X Reader Warnings: Smuttt and overstimulation  A/N: I was listening to Yagami Yato’s Hawks pegging audio and 🥵🥵anyone have any pegging requests 👀? This is the long overdue professor smut that I wrote but then deleted it because I hated it so I rewrote it all ✋🏻 

University had its ups and downs and your English literature professor was definitely one of the ups. His British accent definitely made everyone swoon over him however the boring way he droned on every single class certainly cancelled out his hot accent.

His shoulders were broad, and he always radiated a sort of boyish charm but God the things you would do to him if you had 20 minutes alone with him. You slightly shook your head trying to erase the thoughts and tried focusing on something else. You couldn’t pry your eyes off him so instead you decided to focus on his tie.

He always wore ties with silly things on them. Sometimes they were just random shapes of different colors, other times they were full superhero comic strips but today it was a black tie with little oragami boats on them.

The lesson dragged on and you wanted nothing more than to crawl back into your warm bed instead of sitting inside a cold classroom. Your eyes shifted from him, to his tie, to the clock and to the book proped open in front of you in a continuous cycle.

“Remember to turn in your assignments today by midnight. See you all next class” Dr.Pan said and with that everyone hurried out of the classroom without a seconds pass. Grunts and whispering filled the once quiet classroom as you huffed making your way towards your car.

This years winter was hard and unforgiving and it was especially worse for you since you were used to more warm temperatures all year round. Hugging yourself tighter you couldn’t wait to be inside your car.

The radio droned on about the weather and an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. You were new here ,knew nobody and were all alone if anything happened. Your mind wandered and before you knew it you were pulling up on your drive way.

The house wasn’t necessarily yours but your aunt let you stay there and house sit since she was always busy on business trips and both of your appreciated this temporary agreement .You eyed the houses next to yours and decided it was better now or never to finally introduce yourself to the neighbors. Your aunt didn’t tell you anything about the neighbors only that she has also never met them before.

Parking your car inside the garage you got to work on a gift of sort that would most definitely give you asking rights for a shovel next time you needed it. You got to baking your brownie turning off the heater as the kitchen radiated so much heat you felt like you were burning.Carefully cutting out each brownie you put them on two separate plates and made your way out to the cold once again.

Walking down the drive way you skipped your way to the first neighbors house and was treated with a nice old lady who profusely thanked you for the freshly baked brownies and told you she would drop off your plate as soon as she could.

‘One down one more to go’ You thought to yourself as you made your way to the other house, cursing as snow crept inside of your boot.

Inside the house Peter sighed pouring himself a glass of wine trying to relax from a long day of lecturing.The doorbell rang throughout the house, Peter sighed setting down his cup making his way to the door. You stood there looking up at your English professor. Your English professor who was wearing sweatpants and his button up shirt, half buttoned with a loosen tie. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Peter asked looking at you up and down trying to figure out the answer to his own question.

“Dr.Pan! Sorry I live next door I was just trying to meet my neighbors.” You said shifting the weight of the plate between your hands.

“You’re a little late how long have you’ve been living next door?” Peter said waving you inside.You walked inside grateful for getting out of the freezing weather even for a second. Your toes were freezing as the snow slid down your boot.

“Do you want a drink?” Peter asked you holding up the bottle of wine showing you what he was having. You nodded not wanting to be rude.

“Yes please professor and since the start of the semester” You said nodding at him and continued to look around his house that was filled with different house plants.

“Please call me Peter I'm your neighbor. Well at least outside of class.” He said handing you a glass, you took it afraid of dropping it. “You can take off your jacket at least defrost a bit.” He said looking for any excuse to get you inside. Truth be told you were one of his best students and wanted any excuse to keep you there a bit longer

“Thank you Pro-. Thank you Peter.” You said correcting yourself taking off your layers of wet clothes until you were left in a tank top and wet pants and socks.You continued to look around his house 

“Here you go.” Peter said handing you the cup. Smiling gratefully at him you walked towards him not noticing the things he left scattered on the floor.Falling forward you tried to regain your balance but your foot was caught on one of the various things Peter carelessly left scattered around. Waiting for the impact Peter caught you in his arms awkwardly still holding on to the cups your faces mere inches apart.

Both of you looking at the others lips and without a moment of hesitation both of you went in for the kiss. Peter placed the glasses on the counter as he picked you up carrying you off somewhere.

“The things I would do to you.” You mumbled between his pressed lips.

“Show me.” Peter said urging you on waiting to see what you were going to do. Probably a quick fuck and you’d be gone as soon as you came leaving him with the memory to jerk off later. The kiss deepened, Peter’s hands going under your shirt unhooking your bra, running a finger across your nipple. Your hands tugged his pants off of him and taking off your own pants as Peter continued to play with your nipples making you moan against his mouth.

Pushing him to sit down on the edge of the bed you dropped to your knees taking his dick in your hands slowly pumping it. Pre cum already dripping down the shaft.

Your tongue licked it up, the sensation made Peter twitch under your touch. Rubbing up and down softly sucking on his dick but not giving his enough to get off, his fingers gripping the edge of his bed. His dick was pulsing desperately wanting some friction.

“Enough with the teasing.” He said his toes curling. “I should just pick her up and fuck her senseless” Peter thought as his dick continued to twitch under your touch.But before he could do that you got to your feet.

“Get on your back” You said getting up and motioning for him to get on the bed all the way against the headboard. His dick so hard that he was sure that if you made him wait any longer he won't be able to last long.

“Come on let me cum.” He begged not wanting to move. Ignoring his pleas you pointed at the tie he still had on.

“Can I?” You asked pulling his tie from around his neck. Peter simply nodded intrigued as to what exactly you were going to do with it.Grabbing his hands and tying them to the headboard you gave it a good tug.

His hard and aching dick twitched every time you even stroked his hair. Getting ready to place yourself down on his dick Peter was already imagining how good you were going to feel around him.

“I’m so getting fired.” Peter mumbled out as he watched you lower yourself down.‘This is wrong’ He thought to himself, he wanted to get up and walk away from this but he imagined just how good you felt since you walked into class. He desperately urged himself to stop but what line was left to cross? He already kissed you, groped you, hell he was about to be balls deep inside of you

“I can stop if you want. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble.” You said leaning down to bite on his neck, sucking harshly on the delicate skin.

“No no no please.” Peter pleaded between moans cursing himself for not grabbing you and fucking you when he had the chance.

“Please what?” You said into his ear as you blew air on the already sensitive spot you were sucking on his neck, the sensation making chills go down his body making his dick jump. Bucking his hips he was desperate for any sort of friction, any sort of release.

“Please let me cum” He begged trying his best to reach out to you fighting against his tie. Grabbing Peter’s dick you positioned yourself to start sliding down his shaft. Peter letting out a mix of whimpers and moans and you started to bounce up and down his dick.

“You feel so good doctor” You said in a breathy voice as you felt his dick hit deep inside of you with every stroke.

“Fuck. Oh fuck” He cursed already feeling himself unable to hold back any longer.

“What happened to your no cursing rule?” You said making your strokes slower watching as Peter buckled his hips upward trying to meet you halfway. Sliding down slowly keeping your palms pressed against Peter’s hips preventing him from moving. 

Peter didn’t last long, coming inside of you leaving him to catch his breathe. His face flushed red embarrassed for cuming so quickly but before he could form an apology you kept going making his dick twitch again. 

“Fuck I can’t keep going” He mumbled out but he didn’t want this to end.

“You’re the one that begged to cum.” You said going down to continue leaving hickeys scattered around his neck. The sensation making his dick twitch again, feeling himself get hard again. Moans left his lips, moving up and down slowly giving Peter a chance to get hard again. After all of this he was still going to jack off the second you walked out the door, knowing you were next door made his imagination go crazy.

Bouncing up and down faster Peter moaned and grunted his eyes screwed shut at the feeling of you. 

“Don’t cum yet.” You ordered not slowly down, watching Peter’s pained expression watching him come undone under you.

“Please I’m so sensitive I can’t keep going.” He pleaded groaning trying his best not to cum.

“I said not yet.” You said going up and down slower, your fingers going through his hair giving it a light tugged that made a moan leave his mouth. 

“Pleaseee” Peter moaned trying to reach for you.

“Okay.” Was all you could say.

Your hand reached for your clit, your two fingers rubbing tight circles around your clit as you kept feeling Peter’s dick hit deep inside of you. Your nails dug into his skin your moans filling the room. Peters face flushed hot ‘I’m so getting fired for this’ he thought to himself. 

Reaching your climax you twitched around his dick, letting yourself slump down on his chest. Pushing yourself up, you reached over to untie him. Pushing away your hair that was stuck to your forehead with sweat you got up putting on your clothes.

“I Uu should get going.” You said putting on your pants.

“Wait are you sure? You can sleep over if you want” The words just stumbled out of Peter’s mouth and he felt a bit guilty for wishing you would agree to stay.

You tilted your head to the side looking at him in confusion. For a moment he forgot who you were, who he was, the relationship you two had outside these four walls but when he remembered his face turned a slight shade of pink.

“Right.” He mumbled under his breath as you continued to gather up your things trying to ignore your pounding heart.

Sighing you swallowed harshly as you looked to the windows that were covered in a thick layer of snow. Dreading the short walk back to your home and just how cold it was going to be when you got back, as you reached for the door knob a ring rang through the quiet house.

‘Weather warning’ flashed on your phone.

“Hold on for a second.” Peter said as he walked over to the Tv and turned it on, a blue hue filled his face as he flicked through the channels. 

‘Hope nobody was planning on going anywhere anytime soon! The roads and houses are covered in several feet of snow. Make sure to stay in doors and stay bundled up. This has been the weather with O’Warren back to you Jan.’ The weather man said, standing in front of a green screen with an oversized coat and a wide smile. You wanted the earth to eat you up, all you wanted is to go home and pretend you didn’t just sleep with your professor.

Shifting on your feet you reached for the doorknob trying your best to unlock the various locks on the door with your shaky and mitten covered hands.

“You know you’re welcomed to stay.” Peter said from behind you standing in the same place he was. Your heart pounded in your ears un sure what to do next. Scrunching up your nose you crossed your arms over your chest.

“That would be great but I have an assignment due today and my professor is a bit of a hard ass.” You said tugging at the bottom of your jacket.

Peter let out a loud laugh “Well fuck him.” he said with a goofy smile that made your heart jump.

“I did. Still don’t think I’d get an extension.” you shrugged your shoulders wanting desperately to be in a warm bed and at this point it didn’t matter whose. He let out another laugh and reached out to you urging you to stay.

[verai-marcel]

Holiday Surprise (RDR2 Fanfic, Charles x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: You and Charles have been together for a few months, but after the two of you officially got together, all of your couplings had been rather soft and sweet. Despite how nice it was with him, you wanted something naughtier, something rougher, something more. And you knew exactly how to get it from him.

Author’s Notes: Secret Santa gift for my dear @fangirl-ramblings! A little naughty Christmas story about getting railed by a very giving, very loving Charles Smith. I’d say this takes place in 1907, after the events of the game, while Charles is making his way north towards Canada.

Tags: Charles x F!Reader, smutty smut smut, holiday feels, probably some holiday anachronisms, tied up wrists, light bdsm, some spanking, rough sex, doggy style, creampie

Word Count: 3139

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

You were a fiery, passionate woman, with the wits and cunning for making money from any situation, although you drew the line at taking advantage of the poor and pitiful. Anyone else, however, was fair game. It was with this mindset that you had tricked dozens of men who fell for your charms, believing that you would spend a night in their arms. Instead, you just drugged their whiskey and left town with their cash stuffed down your corset as you traveled to the next town, galloping away on your horse and howling in victory.

But then you met your match, when, on your way through Montana, you ran into a man with black hair, a dark complexion, and the warmest brown eyes you had ever seen. His face had scars that told an intriguing tale, and you had longed to trace every line. 

With every intention to fuck and run, you seduced him, riding his thick cock under the river of stars on a summer’s night. The sounds of your pleasure enraptured him, and he breathed your name as if it was his final prayer to the heavens as he spent himself all over your soft skin. When he awoke, you were gone, with his purse in your possession and lingering regrets in your heart.

He tracked you, chased you to the edge of the country, and when he finally caught you, he kissed you before picking you up and taking you into the forest, away from the road where a passerby might see you.

“Did you really think you could get rid of me, wildcat?”

You were taken then, hard and fast on the forest floor, giving in completely to his wanton possession. Wrapping your arms and legs around him, you screamed his name as you let go, your release taking over your body, your heart, your soul.

“Charles, Charles!”

He tied you down with ropes and dark, carnal words, and you never, ever, wanted him to let you go.

***

A few months later, the two of you had become inseparable. Charles was a good man to you; he treated you as an equal, able to do the same amount of work, if not the same type. And he never disrespected your abilities. Currently, the two of you live in a small cabin on a ranch in Montana where the two of you had met. 

You had changed your ways, using your wits to help with logistics at a ranch, helping with scheduling deliveries, while Charles worked with the animals. His gentle touch had him working with the cattle and horses the most, and while that meant long hours, he still made time to take care of you almost every night, whether it was making you a meal if you were tired, or giving you a massage to relax you on nights when you had to do a lot of paperwork.

Many nights, his gentle care turned into slow love making, his hands and mouth worshipping your body until you pushed him down and rode him passionately, taking every last drop of him. But he never fucked you the way he did that night. He never tied you up, even when you begged for it. Sex was fun, but your thoughts always strayed back to that one night when he lost his calm and fucked you like a raging beast, holding you down, stuffing you full of his thick shaft  over and over again until you cried from the number of times you released around him.

You hated to say it, but you longed for more passion, more lust from him. Charles was like a cute puppy, always eager to please you, but you knew deep inside of him, a wolf was just clawing under the surface, ready to leap out and dominate you. Perhaps he was afraid that he’d hurt you, or that he’d scare you with the intensity of his desire. However, you were not afraid; rather, you wanted to see this side of him, wanted him to lose control like he did that night.

You just had to bring it out of him.

With Christmas fast approaching, you were making secret preparations, on top of the small holiday dinner the two of you were already planning. Working on this ranch meant the two of you had your own little cabin on the land so you could be close to the barn, with relative privacy. For fun, you had decorated the walls with strings of popcorn and wreaths made with pine tree branches and pine cones. Charles had helped you hang your decorations, and had gathered whatever items you needed to make your home just a bit more festive. He got extra candles from the general store, cut a portion of a pine tree and brought it inside for you to decorate. He even bought you ingredients so you could make star-shaped cookies to adorn the tree.

He got you everything you wanted, except for one thing. You hoped that your secret gift would entice him into giving you exactly what you wanted.

***

“All done for the day?” you asked as Charles came in from the snow on the evening before Christmas, stamping his boots before taking them off.

“Yup. Cattle are all settled, horses are safe in the barn with enough hay for a few days.” He took off his coat and hung it on the coat hook next to the door, patting off the accumulated snow. “Looking forward to our day off?”

“Sure am,” you replied as you got up and walked over to hug him. “But first, look above you.”

Charles looked up and grinned at what he saw. “Mistletoe, huh?” Leaning down, he gave you a chaste peck on the lips. “As if I needed an excuse to kiss you.”

You pulled him down and kissed him again, forcing him to prolong the contact by digging your hands into his lush hair. Opening your lips, you licked his bottom lip, encouraging him to open his and invited his tongue to a dance, the kiss deepening as your desire heated your body.

But his movements were unhurried, his big hands sliding down your body slowly so he could enjoy the curve of your hips and your backside. He finally pulled back, making you whimper. “Sweetness,” he murmured, tracing your cheekbone tenderly, “you need to eat first. Then we can play.”

You huffed and pulled away from him, both annoyed that he was right and playing the part of being a brat, hoping that he’d lose some patience with you.

Raising an eyebrow, Charles said nothing more as he led you towards the kitchen, and the two of you made your meal and ate it peacefully at the table.

It wasn’t until after everything was cleaned and put away that you tried again.

“Charles,” you cooed. “I have a surprise for you.”

He looked at you, curious. “Oh?”

“Close your eyes.”

He obeyed without question.

You got up from your chair and went to the chest of drawers, digging into the bottom of the lowest drawer and pulling out one part of your special gift. Going back to stand before him, you undid the top three buttons of your blouse so that your cleavage peaked out. You took a deep breath to calm yourself, not because you were nervous, but because you were getting too excited. “Open your eyes.”

Charles did so, and his eyes immediately traveled to your chest. You could feel his hot gaze as if it were his fingers, tracing the curves of your breasts. It was as if just his stare alone could caress your nipples, for they suddenly ached with need. 

Then he saw the rope in your hands. It was a horsehair rope that you had made in your spare time, diligently weaving and re-weaving it until it was strong enough to hold someone, but soft to the touch. He looked back up at your face in confusion.

“I want you to tie me up,” you purred, setting the rope down on the table and undoing your skirt buttons in front of him. He sat, entranced by the fabric gliding down your body, revealing your bare thighs. You had chosen not to wear any drawers tonight; you wanted to tease him as much as possible, to break his hold on his self-control.

You could see the outline of his bulge in his pants as he swallowed audibly. “Sweetness,” he rasped, “what’re you on about?”

Undoing the rest of your blouse, you revealed your other secret gift: a chemise and corset that pushed your breasts up. The chemise was dyed black to complement the dark red of the corset, with its black ribbons and lace.

Charles let out a low rumble. “Such a beautiful lady,” he murmured. “C’mere, let me touch you.”

You shook your head. Grabbing the rope from the table, you pushed him back on the chair and wrapped it around him twice. Tying a square knot at his chest, you smiled. “No touching.”

He tested the ropes, wriggling in his seat. It was clear to both of you that if he chose to, he could easily get free, but he decided to play your game. For now.

So you went down on your knees and slowly undid the buttons of his pants and then his drawers, looking up at him to smile and watch his reaction as you nuzzled his bulge. When you finally reached in and freed his cock, stroking him into full hardness, he was breathing heavily.

With your eyes locked onto his, you took him into your mouth. He groaned, his hips jerking upwards. You put your hands on his thighs and started to suck on him in earnest, bobbing your head up and down, slowing your rhythm when you felt him tensing, and speeding up when you could hear him catching his breath. After a while, you reached down to stroke your clit while you sucked on him, letting your own moans vibrate against his shaft. Your tongue swirled around the head of his cock, making him let out a prolonged moan.

“How long are you going to keep me on edge?” he asked, his voice rough with need.

You grinned as you gave him one last lick and stood up. Straddling him, you grasped his hardness and lowered yourself slowly, sinking onto him one inch at a time until he was completely sheathed in you. You felt him twitch inside of you, and you laughed gleefully.

“I’m warning you,” he rumbled.

“Warning me of what?” you sneered, lifting yourself off him until on the tip was inside. “What are you goin’ to do? You’re. Nothing. But. A. Cuddly. Puppy,” you taunted, punctuating your words with each bounce, sliding halfway down before moving back up.

Charles growled before flexing, the square knot that you had so haphazardly tied loosening like his self-control. He reached up and untied it, setting himself free before grabbing onto your hips and pulling you down to grind hard against him. 

“A puppy, huh?” He picked you up, holding you close and walked over to the bed. He nearly shoved you down; his roughness made you shiver with anticipation. He ripped off his clothes in a rush before grabbing the rope and stalking towards you, that primal lust in his eyes, just like that wondrous night. You felt your pussy flow with your desire, as if it knew what was about to happen.

“You want this?” he growled, grabbing your wrists and tying them together. Without waiting for your answer, he flipped you over and folded you until you were on your knees. Slapping your ass, he uttered, “On your knees.”

You quickly obeyed, craving his command. Caressing your backside, he rubbed the head of his cock against your folds, dipping inside of you just a little bit before pulling out to rub against your clit. Over and over, he teased you until you were begging for him to fuck you.

“I don’t think so, sweetness. You tortured me so ruthlessly. I think I owe you the same.” Then he leaned over, one arm holding himself up as he gripped your chin and turned your head to the side to meet his gaze. “Or are you goin’ to be a good girl?”

You stuck your tongue out at him.

A feral grin grew on his face as he let go of your jaw. His hands suddenly grasped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. “Have it your way.”

That was your only warning before he plunged inside of you with a low snarl. Staying inside of you, he pressed you down onto the bed, his chest against your back. His hands slid up your body, one arm wrapping around your shoulders, the other digging into your hair. Moving his hips up slowly, he chuckled darkly into your ear before starting a ruthless pace. Charles fucked you hard, making the bed bounce with the strength of his powerful thrusts. 

You cried out, your screams louder than the winter wind outside. Wrapping one hand around your mouth to stifle your sounds, he kept pounding into you, his deep moans of pleasure in your ear.

“That’s it girl, take what I give you,” he uttered into your ear. “It’s what you need, isn’t it?”

“Yes, yes Charles, I need your cock inside of me, I need to be fucked!” you babbled when Charles let go of your mouth. You were losing your mind as he took you with an intense need to mark you as absolutely, decisively his.

He stopped long enough to roll the two of you over, his cock still sheathed inside of you. Reaching down, he stroked your core with one hand as he grabbed your breast and squeezed, teasing your nipple as he gave you shallow thrusts. Your body tightened when he slapped your breast before reaching around you to rub and pinch the other one, giving it the same treatment.

“I can feel your pussy tighten around me. You’re close, aren’t you?”

You could only moan as he rubbed your center harder, faster.

“Come for me, sweetness. Show me how much you love having my cock inside of you.”

You let out a strangled cry as your climax hit you hard, your legs straightening out, your toes curling, the sweat from your body making you slippery in his grasp as he tried to hold you down. He wrung every last spasm of pleasure from you, not letting up the sweet, sinful pressure on your core until you started begging for him to stop.

“You don’t want me to stop,” he teased, gently rolling you off of him. He got up to kneel before you, positioning you with your back on the bed, your legs spread wide open and still twitching from your last climax. Pressing his cock against your oversensitized clit, he rubbed against you, watching you writhe with too much pleasure, driving you insane.

“Oh my lord, fuck, oh god,” you rambled as your hips twisted back and forth, trying to avoid his touch. But Charles grabbed your hips and held you down as he rocked his hips back and forth, his shaft sliding around your sensitive areas. You could only whimper as you knew you were helpless to resist him now.

Not that you wanted to. Your pussy still dripped with how much you wanted him to fuck you.

Charles let you breathe for a moment before he leaned forward and pushed his member deep inside of you with one stroke. “You want my spend, wildcat?”

“Yes!” you hissed, lifting your hips up. “I want it, I need it!”

“Of course you do. And only I can give it to you,” he rumbled as he started thrusting, slowly at first, then moving faster and faster as he lost control of himself. He fell upon you, like a hungry wolf onto his prey, covering you with his wide chest, his big, muscular arms surrounding you and holding you close. “Tell me you want it inside.”

“Yes, please Charles, spend inside of me, I want it deep,” you begged.

Charles let out a guttural moan as he thrust hard, pushing inside of you as deep as he could, and stayed there as he released himself inside of you, filling you full. He let out a few more grunts of exertion, lifting his hips and pumping more inside of you until you felt his release spilling from your body.

“Fuck,” he sighed, contentedly. Then he suddenly lifted off of you and collapsed beside you. He reached up and untied your wrists, frowning at the red marks on your skin.

“You alright, sweetness?” he asked, kissing each of your wrists.

“I’m better than alright,” you replied, drunk on the intense afterglow. Cuddling closer to him, you hummed happily when you felt him wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest.

“I’m glad,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Guess I should’ve known you could handle me being… a little rougher with you.”

You looked up at him. “What stopped you before?”

Charles cupped your cheek and looked at you so tenderly that you nearly teared up. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured.

You gently flicked his nose with your finger. “You silly man. I’ll tell you if something hurts.”

“You usually don’t.”

You opened your mouth to argue before you realized that he was right. You usually didn’t complain about aches and pains, but he would see you stretching or groaning and would chastise you for not telling him. “This is different. But I promise I’ll tell you if I’m hurt from now on,” you said.

“Thank you.” He kissed your forehead, then the tip of your nose. “Ready to sleep, sweetness?”

You nodded and yawned.

He chuckled as he nuzzled you with his cheek. “Good night, my love.”

***

“Happy Christmas, my sweet flower,” Charles said as you awoke, blinking your eyes as the dawn light filtered in through the one window of your cabin. Nestling into his chest, you wanted to sleep for a little longer, but knowing what an early bird Charles was, you grumbled and started to get up.

“Who said anything about getting out of bed,” he said, pulling you back down on top of him. You felt the long hard length of him against your thigh and saw the sly smile on his face.

Straddling him, you rolled your hips and coated his cock with your wetness. “My mistake,” you joked. “Guess you’ll need to teach me the right way to spend Christmas morning.”

He rolled the two of you over and slipped his cock inside of you slowly. “Gladly,” he said before kissing you and starting a gentle rhythm that sent you soaring.

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

End Notes: Merry Christmas @fangirl-ramblings! Hope you like your secret santa gift!!!

[pink-imagines]

your hero

request: Hola señora 😌 can I request a scenario where Bakugo and fem!reader are children in kindergarten and they were playing around until reader got hurt and bakugo helped calm her down and took her to the nurse, and reader kept on calling him her hero?? If not that’s ok :’)

a/n: i made it just a bit different, but your request is still the biggest part of this story!

warnings: mentions of blood, but nothing too serious

masterlist

requesting rules

You were a shy kid. You never picked up any fights, you did your work and was quiet in class. Some of your teachers would even say too quiet, as you barely spoke in class even if you knew the answer to a question.  When you got a bit older you started getting bullied, which only made you more reserved. To try to fix the problem your parents and teachers decided that it was best if you could switch schools. So that’s what you did. That’s when you met Katsuki Bakugo. “The child prodigy.”, as they called him. He was smart, talented and had a good quirk. Sure, he was a bit tempered but that for some reason didn’t scare you away like it normally would. He was actually the only one in your class who intrigued you, though he was kind of rude. You had settled to just watch him from afar instead, looking back it was probably a case of puppy love for you.

There was this one big tree that you used to sit in. It wasn’t tall, but it was wide and had many thick branches which you could lean on and read during recess. Well you had the book in your hands, open on the page where you had last closed the book on, but you weren’t actively trying to read. No, from the edge of your book you’d sneak glances over at the other side of the playground where Bakugo would play with his friends. Whenever he’d look over at you your peeping eyes would dive under the edge of your book and pretend as if you weren’t looking. That’s how you spent your days during recess and when it was time to go back inside you’d simply close up the book and run after all the others.

One day, when you had just gotten a new pair of shoes - this time with strings, you were out on recess as normal. It was a nice warm day and everyone was playing as usual. You, however, were of course reading your book and leaning against the tree. The bells started ringing, calling all of the children back to their classrooms. So you closed up the book, still on the same page as you opened it on, and got ready to leave.  What you didn’t realize was that one of the strings on your new shoes had gotten stuck on the treebranch. You weren’t the best at tying your shoe, so the shoelaces were almost always undone.  You stood up and started running, obviously not getting that far before you fell face down on the ground. A few kids around you snickered and you could feel tears burning in the corner of your eyes. The fact that you saw blood on your knee didn’t help. Almost all the kids were gone and no teachers were to be seen. You couldn’t for the life of you get the shoelaces off of the treebranch. “Are you stuck or something?”, a scruffy voice asked. You looked up to see Bakugo stand right in front of you. Heat came up to your face and you couldn’t help but to cry louder. “Hey! Hey! Stop crying, you baby!”, he exclaimed, “I’ll help you, alright?” You sniffled and nodded, letting Bakugo reach for your shoe and get the shoelace off of the tree. “You really should learn to tie your shoes better. I won’t always be around to help, y’know?”, he sighed and tied your shoe for you, “... does that hurt?” He motioned for your bleeding knee and you nodded. “Here.”, he held out his hand to you, “I’m taking you to the nurse’s office.” “Thank you, Bakugo.”, you took his hand and he helped you up. He scoffed out that you didn’t need to call him by his last name, but didn’t let go of your hand even when you had gotten up. 

As you two walked over to the nurse’s office you looked intently at Katsuki, which he seemed to notice. “What?”, he asked. “Why didn’t you go to the classroom when the bell was ringing? You stayed behind...”, you said. “I saw that you had fallen. I can’t just leave you behind, idiot.”, he huffed. “... so you’re like my hero.”, you giggled. “Huh!?”, he exclaimed. “Well, you were the only one who stayed behind. Like a hero!”, you smiled brightly at him with admiration in your eyes. “I... of course! I’m gonna be the number one hero after all!”, he scoffed, “It’s only natural for me to save you!” “Number one hero or not, you’ll always be my hero Katsuki!”, you giggled happily, making him turn his face away from you. “... whatever! Let’s hurry up!”, he huffed.

Once you had gotten the scratch cleaned up and bandaged the two of you walked back to your classroom. “You can let go of my hand now, Katsuki.”, you mentioned quietly. “Wasn’t I your hero or something?”, he said calmly, “Heroes are supposed to make sure that the innocent get to the nearest safest place. For us, that’s the classroom.” “The hallways aren’t unsafe, silly!”, you laughed. “You never know! What if you trip like that again, huh?”, he scolded you.

Once you reached the classroom the two of you explained what had happened to the teacher and she let it off with a warning. “You should tell the teacher first.”, she said. You both got into your seats and a few of the kids started teasing Katsuki. “Oh, shut up...”, he muttered and looked out the window. But not before glancing at you. You gave him a warm smile before he turned his head away. Though you managed to catch the small smile that appeared on his lips.

From that point on Katsuki was always there to protect you and you slowly started warming up to him. You got really close actually, and for once Katsuki was genuinely smiling... at least when there was only you around. Of course, he was still mean to others but you helped in any way you could. Whether it was making him walk away from the situation and smile apologetically towards the victim in question, or literally yell at him. The latter was something that only you could actually do, except for his own mom.

Then it came to middle school graduation. Katsuki was, of course, going to UA high school and you were going to a different school. You had kept that admiring view of Katsuki since kindergarten, and the puppy love you were feeling had developed into a crush on your childhood friend. “Promise me that you’ll do your best and become the number one hero, like you said!”, you said as you tried to hold back your tears, “... and please don’t forget about me when you get there!” It was supposed to be a joke, of course he wouldn’t forget about you... right? Katsuki engulfed you in his embrace and hugged you tightly. “You idiot... why would I forget about you?”, it sounded like he was on the verge of crying, “... I’m your hero, remember?” “... yeah.”, you smiled, letting a single tear slip out of the corner of your eye. Katsuki pulled away from you and bent down to look you directly in your eyes. He had gotten a lot taller than you, even though you always were around the same height before. His hands made their way to your face and his thumb swiped away the tear quickly. “Come visit me, alright?”, he said. “Of course.”, you nodded, “We can still see each other on weekends.” “Yeah, duh.”, he grinned and let out a scoff, “So stop it with the tears, crybaby.” “Oh, shut up. I’m not a crybaby.”, you chuckled and wiped your eyes with the back of your hands. When you looked back at him he was staring right back, now serious. Before you had the chance to ask what was wrong he pressed his lips to yours. After the initial shock had left you you wrapped your arms around him before he could pull away. The simple act of you pressing yourself up to him made him smile against your lips ever so softly. The trees, full of green leaves, shielded you from anyone else’s eyes and you felt as if you were completely alone together. “Why would you do that without asking, dummy?”, you huffed after he had pulled away. “I thought we’ve known each other long enough for you to know my every move. Wasn’t that what you said yesterday? Besides, didn’t seem like you were complaining.”, he shrugged before looking at you with a grin, “I’m taking you out on Friday, alright?” “... alright.”, you nodded with a bright smile on your lips.

-

permanent taglist: @theoceanphoenixhasrisen | @raven-r0ses | @darkbeautyswife | @sondering-thoughts | @gowoneandonlyone | @bnhabadass | @queenblackcat | @jayetheanimefreek101 | @witchy-anna | @cutest-celestial-princess | @missymysa | @karebear5118 | @weebartistinc |

[whumpasaurus101]

Not Just a Pretty Face

Here's the second part to this ask!!!

master list / previous

also ty @happy-whumper and @milk-carton-whump for helping me to form words XD

CW: Brief talking of conditioned pets / cursing / mention of alcohol / mirror broken with head (mhmm, thats the only way i can think of phrasing that...) / if i missed anything just tell!!!!

Alicia fixed Jack's shirt collar, tucking the fold back down. As she took a second look she stepped closer, smoothing down the creases in his shirt and tie. She ruffled his hair with a smile, “Perfect.” Jack blushed at the compliment and dipped his head. Alicia’s hand ghosted over his cheek and gently pushed his chin up, “Hey, chin up, shoulders back. I need you to try and look tough for me baby, or else tonight wont go well, got it?” Jack licked his lips and gulped, “Y-yes ma’am.” Alicia tutted at the stutter and yanked on the leather collar, causing Jack to choke slightly.

She slowly put on her suit jacket and slipped on her high heel boots. She reapplied her dark red lipstick and smiled, “Let’s go.”

A taxi was in Alicia’s driveway, patiently waiting for them to get in. The man who drove it scared Jack. He was lean and muscular and had a tattoo of a teardrop on his left cheek. He gulped but Alicia shoved him into the back seat and slammed the door behind him.

Her high heels clicked as she walked up to the front door and got in. “Romeo, glad to see you, long time no see, eh?” Romeo chuckled, “Wish I could say the same. I mean really, a handler’s club?” Alicia smirked, looking out the window as the car drove away from the house, “I haven't been out in ages, Rodger’s been away for a while and I had to mind Jack and his little boyfriend.”

Romeo’s head tilted and he looked at Jack from the rear-view mirror, “Boyfriend?” Jack sunk in his seat and rested his head against the window, hiding his blush. “Jack, don't you want to talk about your little boy toy?” Alicia sneered. Jack shook his head, clenching his jaw.

Alicia chortled, “Fine, I will. You know Rodger’s mutt?” Romeo looked at Alicia, “Shit, I’ve missed a bit, haven't I? Rodger got a new pet? But it mustn't have been too long since his last-”

“No, it hasn't. He can't deal with loss, you know that.”

There was silence. Jack fiddled with his fingers as he focused on the vibrations the road sent to the car. He felt the window buzz against his temple and he slowly closed his eyes.

“Well your pet seems to be good, he’s still as quiet as ever.” Alicia chuckled, “Oh trust me, he’s loud when he wants to be! But I am grateful, you should see Rodger’s little mongrel, has a bad fucking attitude and a bold mouth.” Romeo chuckled, shaking his head, “I must say, I’m intrigued by him, maybe I should pay him a visit.”

Alicia cackled, fixing her hoop earrings, “Oh, now I would pay to see that, you’d have him broken in a week!” Romeo chuckled and smiled to himself, keeping his eyes glued on the road. Jack opened his eyes and looked out of the window, watching trees and bushes whizz by.

It was dark, the sky was a light grey, Jack flinched slightly as a droplet of rain hit the window. It slowly rolled down as Jack’s eyes followed it. Next came several others each making a *tink* sound as they each fell.

Romeo sighed and turned on the wipers. Alicia reapplied her eyeshadow and mascara in the windscreen mirror. She checked her watch and sighed, “Could you be driving any slower, for god’s sake.”

Romeo looked at her with one eyebrow raised, “Alright, I know you're stressed about going out since it's been a while, but lose the bitchiness, okay?” Jack gulped, how could he say such a thing to her, she must be livid!

To Jack’s surprise, Alicia laughed, “Alright, alright, sorry, is it that obvious?” Jack’s eyebrows furrowed, if it had been anyone else who had said that, they would've been dead in seconds.

“It's alright, I remember I used to get spooked before every club. Just walk in confidently, and make sure Jack does too. Sit at your own table, let people join you. Normally there’s live music so just focus on that until people come over.” Alicia nodded, taking a mental note. She then cleared her throat, hating how vulnerable she seemed in front of her pet.

“So, how are your pets doing?” Romeo chuckled, “Oh boy, they’re alright. We’re on about ten. Aiden’s trying to sell me another one but-” He blew the air out of his mouth, “-I don't think I can manage another one. Besides, they all have their own positions, the cooks, the cleaners, you know.”

Alicia nodded, “No, I get it. Aiden is just trying to get everyone to try and copy him with his ‘pet hotel’ shit.” “Hey, you can't say anything, you haven't tried it out, it’s actually quite useful.” “Oh, I don't need that, Jack does everything for me, isn't that right Jack?”

Jack felt his cheeks flush slightly, “Y-yes ma’am.”

“Jesus, it takes nothing for that boy to turn as red as a tomato,” Romeo commented. Alicia laughed and looked back at Jack, taking in how red his face had gotten, “He has always been like that, its quite entertaining.”

Romeo looked left then right before pulling out to a new road and he chuckled, “You know what would be funny?” Alicia looked up at him, a devilish smile painted on her lips. “A drinking game. Each time his face blushes even the slightest shade, we take a shot.”

Alicia let out a childish, giddy laugh, “Oh Romeo, I forgot how fun you are, that sounds perfect! Say, how far away do you live from this club?”

Romeo smiled, seeing where Alicia was going with this, “It's about a fifteen minute drive.” Alicia hummed, nodding her head, “What would you say to having two guests over tonight?”

Romeo beamed, “That would be great! Give me a call when you want to be collected, got it?” Alicia nodded, “Thank you again, and we’ll see after.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and left the car. Jack hadn't moved, he didn't dare to.

The rain had stopped by now, it had only been drizzling by then. Alicia opened the car door he had been leaning on and quickly caught him before he fell. “Jesus Christ, get your head out from the clouds baby, cmon!”

Jack scrambled to his feet and smoothed his clothes before Alicia gave out to him, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, shh, its okay, now, lets go.”

She linked arms with him and dragged him to the door of the quartz building. There was two body guards whos frowns both turned to smiles when they saw her, “Alicia! Its been a while, welcome!” One of them beamed. “Why thank you Joe, its great to be back.”

The second one gave a bigger smile and opened the door to the club, “Have a good night ma’am.” It didn't bother Jack that they were speaking to only Alicia and not him. But, if maybe one of them looked at him it would've been nice.

“Jack, sweetie, whats the matter?” Jack looked to alicia who lightly squeezed his arm tighter. Jack gulped, “N-nothing, I’m sorry ma’am.” Alicia frowned, “Alright, but don't forget, you should be grateful for tonight that I have brought you out!”

Jack winced at the sharp tone, “Yes, of course ma’am, I’m sorry. Th-thank you for bringing me out today.” Alicia smiled, “Good boy, now, I need you to be on your best behaviour tonight, there will be a lot of eyes on us.” “Yes ma’am.”

She opened the second door of the corridor and jazz music, clinking of glasses, laughter and chatter filled the room. Scared, pleading eyes shot up to meet with Jack. He quickly cast his eyes downward to the floor and let Alicia guide him to a free table.

Romeo was right. Alicia and Jack had only been sitting at an empty table only for several other handlers to join them only minutes later. Jack knelt obediently by Alicia’s side. Alicia combed her long nails through his curls and softly rubbed behind his ear. Jack closed his eyes in content, taking in the soft warm touch.

The other handlers were talking about their own pets and what they do. Alicia smiled and nodded, occasionally looking down at Jack, making her smile even more at how happy he looked.

Jack half listened to the conversations, there was one called Sandra, another called Ethan and the last one named Lorcan. Lorcan also looked at Jack. By then Jack had his eyes opened, they were still glued to the floor. His head tilted towards Alicia as she used more of her nail.

Once Jack glanced up at Lorcan, the man chuckled, shaking his head. Jack clenched his jaw, what had he done wrong?

“Well, you seem to have a broken pet,” He sneered, Alicia chuckled, “He was a runaway. His previous owner was well-known to be the ‘strict’ kind.” Jack shuddered as his memories of Abraham came back to him, he could never go back there. Never.

“Well, is he useful at all?” Lorcan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yes, he’s not just a pretty face. He’s great company, he can read, write, clean, cook, talk, be quiet, everything!” Jack felt his ears turn hot.

“Hmm, so he’s good around the house?”

“Mhmm.”

Lorcan nodded slowly. He reached for the drink and just as he brought it to his lips, he dropped it to the ground right in front of Jack who immediately flinched back, pressing himself against Alicia with a whimper.

“If he’s so good, make him clean this mess up.” Jack looked at Alicia who thought for a moment before looking at Jack, you heard him, clean it up.” Jack gulped and whined once he felt Alicia’s touch leave.

“M-ma’am, I don't- I don't have anything to clean it up with!” Lorcan smiled, “Do you mind if I take him for a moment, I know where we can get something to clean it up with.” Alicia’s eyebrows furrowed, “Alright, just dont take long.”

Lorcan faked a smile and roughly grabbed Jack by the hair and dragged him over to the bathrooms. Jack yelped and tried to pry the hands out of his hair but it was impossible, “Please, l-let go of me!!” Lorcan snickered, “So the bitch speaks!” Jack -ignoring the insult- let out a yell as his grip tightened.

He was thrown to the ground once they had entered the bathrooms. Jack felt a droplet of blood slowly drip down his forehead, slowly making its way down to his brow. “Get up.” Jack groaned and shook his head. Lorcan muttered something under his breath and yanked Jack up by the arm and smashed him up against the mirror, making Jack bang his head against the mirror.

He let out a cry and felt the glass shatter beneath his skull. He let out a scratch of pain which was soon muffled by Lorcan’s sweaty palm. “Shut the fuck up!” Jack continued to scream, desperate for help. Who was he kidding, he was in a handler’s club, no one was going to save him.

Lorcan brought him forward only to slam his head back against the cracked mirror once more. Jack felt his vision start to slip, his head felt numb and heavy. The pain was excruciating but it was the only thing he could focus on at the moment.

Alicia heard the screams. At first, she thought it was just some other pet but as a second wave of muffled screams came, she recognized them. Jack! She leaped from her seat and ran to the bathroom door. She kicked it open and punched Lorcan straight in the face. Lorcan stumbled back, clutching his face. “Don't touch him! I thought you were going to get something to dry up the mess!”

She softly put her arm around Jack’s shoulders and guided him behind her. “Oh come on,” Lorcan scoffed, “Why do you think we came in here?” Jack watched the vein in Alicia’s neck pop, she was livid. It made Jack feel good though, she cared about him!

“I swear to god, if you touch my boy ever again without my permission I will fucking kill you!” Lorcan just chuckled, shaking his head, “I think you better go.” Alicia clenched her jaw, “Oh, I’ll go when I want to go.” She took out her phone and held it to her ear.

Lorcan rolled his eyes and folded his arms, “And who are you ringing?”

“Romeo, Romeo Zalis.”

Lorcan immediately paled, “Y-you're bluffing.” Alicia raised her eyebrow as a challenge. The ringing stopped, “Alicia, are you okay?” Lorcan recognized the thick Brooklyn accent and gulped, “I uh, need to go.” Alicia smirked and her eyes followed him as he left.

“Yes, although not great people here, think you can collect us early?” Romeo chuckled, “Of course, I’m in a cafe nearby, I shouldn't be too long.”

“Perfect, thank you. Also, I could really do with that drinking game right now.”

Taglist: @likeit-or-whumpit @milk-carton-whump @yesthisiswhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @appy-polly-loggies @happy-whumper @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @myst-in-the-mirror

if you wanna be added or removed just say!! <3

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Sweet Talking

Summary: Rumpelstiltskin does not often leave the Dark Castle, but there are some things that magic simply can’t make correctly – things that he needs to purchase in person.

In which Rumpelstiltskin, Dreaded Dark One, has the world’s biggest sweet-tooth, and a standing arrangement with a blue-eyed confectioner…

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling February moodboard prompt, available here.

Rated: G

Sweet Talking

Miss Belle, purveyor of sweets, toffees, and other sugar-filled comestibles to the denizens of the Enchanted Forest at large, knew that she was due a visit from her best customer, and she knew, from the person hanging around attempting and failing to look inconspicuous, that her best customer had indeed arrived, right on schedule.

She kept glancing over at the hooded figure feigning extreme interest in the candy apples whilst she served the other customers in her little shop. He really wasn’t doing much to be unobtrusive. If her mother was here serving with her, there was little doubt that she’d be shooing him out of the shop with a broom, believing him to be a thief hiding all their peppermint candy canes in his cloak and intending to leave without purchase.

As it was, Belle knew that he was just waiting for everyone else to leave so that he could perform his transactions in peace.

Who would have thought that Rumpelstiltskin, of all people, would have had such a fierce and almost unquenchable craving for sweets?

Belle took her time in serving the other customers. She would admit that there was a little bit of a thrill in making the dreaded Dark One wait. She wondered if he realised that in spite of everything about his reputation that she had heard, she wasn’t the slightest bit scared of him. No one could be scared of anyone who was so incredibly enthusiastic about candy.

At length, though, her other customers finished buying their sweets and left the shop, leaving her alone with her mysterious client. He had garnered a few odd looks from the others as they left, and Belle had to smile.

“It’s all right, they’ve all gone.” She laughed as he came over to the counter, still moving furtively and wrapped up in his cloak. “You know, for all you’re trying to hide away in there, you’re drawing even more attention to yourself than you realise.”

Rumpelstiltskin pushed the hood back a little way so that she could see his face. 

“Who’s to say that wasn’t my intention?” he quipped. “The darker and more mysterious, the scarier I am, and the less likely people are to want to try and interfere with my extremely important business.”

“Extremely important,” Belle agreed. “Will you be wanting your usual order, then?”

“Yes please.”

He had come into her shop so many times over the last year since she had opened up that she knew exactly what he wanted down by heart. She’d asked several times if it wouldn’t be easier for her to just get everything measured out and bagged up in advance for him, and then he would only need to come into the shop for a moment in order to receive it, but he had refused. He had not given any reason for his refusal, but as Belle began to shake the sweets out of their heavy glass jars and into paper bags, she thought she knew why. There was a dreamy kind of hunger in his eyes as he watched and listened to them rattling in the scale basin, and it was the same kind of dreaminess that Belle herself had always felt when watching the cascade of dainty eatables. This experience was all part of the sweet-buying process; it just wasn’t the same if the sweets were already bagged and waiting. It lacked some of the magic. 

Truth be told, Belle was actually rather happy that Rumpelstiltskin had decided against a pre-order system. Although she would never admit it to anyone, and least of all to him, she always looked forward to the time that he spent in her shop, however brief it might be, and she really didn’t want it to be any briefer. There was something about him that intrigued her, perhaps in place of the fear that she did not feel of him. They didn’t exactly share much conversation, but it was always fun when they did. 

She finished measuring out his sweets and began to fasten the bags with ribbon. There wasn’t much point to it except idle fancy; just twisting the tops would have done well enough to seal them and she knew that he would probably dive straight in as soon as he was out of the shop, but it gave them more time together, and Rumpelstiltskin didn’t seem to mind the delay. 

“You know, I’ve been wondering.” Belle didn’t know what had possessed her to give voice to the thought that had been rattling around at the back of her mind for as long as Rumpelstiltskin had been buying confectionary from her. She’d always been wondering it, and there was nothing particularly special about today that should lend itself to such conversation starters. 

“You’ve been wondering?” Rumpelstiltskin prompted, picking a strawberry bonbon out of one of the unsealed bags and making to pop it in his mouth. On instinct, Belle reached out and batted his hand. 

“You haven’t paid for those yet!”

For a moment, Belle remembered that he was indeed the Dark One and she had just batted at him. He didn’t seem particularly angry by the action, more affronted at the suggestion that he wasn’t going to pay. To make matters worse, Belle realised that her fingers were still resting on the back of his hand, and she snatched back as if she’d been stung. 

“Sorry. I, erm…”

Rumpelstiltskin gave an explosive giggle. It had made Belle jump out of her skin the first time that she had heard it and it was no different now. 

“It’s all right, dearie, no harm done.” He produced a couple of silver coins out of nowhere and presented them to Belle with a flourish before snaffling the bonbon. “There you are. Payment tendered.”

Belle gave an inward sigh of relief and put the money in the cashbox before returning to her ribbons. 

“You were saying something,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “You were wondering.”

“Oh. Yes.” The little incident had interrupted her train of thought. “Yes. I was wondering why you come here to buy your sweets. I mean, surely someone like you has magic enough to make your own, a never ending supply.”

“I spin straw into gold, not candy canes, dearie.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I suppose I do.” Rumpelstiltskin didn’t answer her for a long time, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts. 

“I think it’s because there are some things that magic just can’t get quite as right as the real thing. I’m sure that any facsimiles of your delectable confections would taste just as sweet, but there would be something missing. Something about them wouldn’t be quite… real.”

Belle finished tying off the last bow and smiled. “Well, I’m glad to hear that my sweets are incomparable to magic. Maybe I ought to use that as a selling point.” She paused as she handed over the bags and Rumpelstiltskin began to stow them in the many pockets of his cloak. “And I’m glad that you keep coming back for more. It’s always nice to see you in here.”

Rumpelstiltskin looked up then, startled, and he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times like a fish. 

“I… It’s nice to see you too,” he mumbled, before vanishing from in front of the counter in a puff of smoke. That was unusual. Normally he waited until he was outside before disappearing, just as he never materialised in the shop itself. 

Belle smiled to herself again. Maybe there was nothing there, but perhaps something could come of this strange little friendship.

[gehayi]

It's possible that Tom Riddle seduced Merope Gaunt & later on she lied to get him to marry her or more likely she had symptoms of a false pregnancy & believed she was pregnant which led her to tell him she's with child. Given the social pressures of the time he left with her & the 2 likely eloped with Merope becoming pregnant later on but when Tom learned of this it lead him to abandon her anyways. What is your view on what really happened between Merope Gaunt & Tom Riddle Senior?

It’s possible, sure, that Merope could have lied about being pregnant or could have read the symptoms of false pregnancy wrong . But...well, I’ve been to school with rich privileged kids, and I find it more believable that Tom Sr. found the silent adoration of the ugly daughter of the local hermit amusing enough to exploit. 

I could see him having a bet with his friends about how far he could push this and for how long. I could even see one of his friends dressing up like a minister and Tom going through a mockery of a marriage both to reassure her and to make fun of her. She thinks that it’s strange, of course, but what does she know about how Muggles do things? And meanwhile, Tom Sr. is looking oh-so-serious and he wants this and he wants her and for once in her life, it seems like she has what matters.

Meanwhile, Tom’s friends are stifling their laughter and trying not to meet each other’s eyes for fear that they’ll lose it.

After the fake marriage--who knows how long?--Tom convinces Merope to come with him to London--in April 1926 at the latest. He drives them there, or they take a train. Either way, he arranges the transportation and pays for a hotel room. Maybe he tells her that this is going to be their honeymoon. Maybe he says that they’re going to set up their own house in London. It doesn’t matter to him, as long as the lie works.

Merope isn’t familiar with Muggle cities, Muggle tech of the 1920s, or Muggle money. (She may not even be fully literate; we know that she never went to school and that her father taught her and her brother nothing.)  London is an incomprehensible maze to her. And the hotel room is clean and warm and has soft carpets and pictures on the wall. There’s a box that produces music and stories and news. Lights come on with the touch of a button. And she doesn’t have to cook or clean anything. It’s luxury that she’s never dreamt of. 

To quote the very wise Ursula Vernon, “Relief feels like happiness, if you don’t know the difference.” 

Tom is pleased that she’s so easily satisfied; he doesn’t have to explain to anyone he knows why he’s with this ugly woman. He pays for clothes for her, but he doesn’t take her anywhere. When he’s bored with Merope, he tells her that he has to go out and then parties with his friends. She doesn’t question him. She doesn’t even consider doing so.

In May 1926, there’s a general strike. 

Roads all across Britain become impassible.  Buses have to barricade their windows. The strikers derail the train the Flying Scotsman in Northumberland. The government declares martial law. It even sends a warship to Newcastle. The world has turned upside down.

Merope hears about all this on the radio; it’s her main form of entertainment. She starts peppering him with questions. Why is the strike happening? Why is everyone so angry?

Tom is shaking and tense and can scarcely think coherently. How can these creatures, these underlings, rebel against the orderly system he’s been part of since birth?  And how can this--this daughter of a mere tramp question him?

He yells at her to shut up. He apologizes afterward, and Merope accepts his apology. But the bloom is off the rose now. She knows now that he can be pointlessly cruel, just like her father and brother.

She tries very hard not to know this.

The general strike ends after nine days. Martial law, however, drags on and on. So do transportation problems. And 1.7 million strikers are now out of work. This is not the bright, fun city Tom wanted to visit. 

June arrives. By now Merope’s adoration isn’t as intriguing to Tom, and her pregnancy is starting to show as well.  Like many men and boys of privileged backgrounds, Tom thinks of pregnancy as something that only happens if the woman wills it. He is sickened and outraged that Merope has gotten pregnant--to trap him, he’s sure--and he chews her out for this.

Merope, though, was painfully isolated while growing up. She knew only her father and brother. Her father warned her repeatedly  not to let a Muggle touch her...but he didn’t provide any clarifying details. She had no mother, no sisters, no female friends. She had no education to speak of. Porn was not conveniently available. And she could not read. 

So, faced with Tom’s rage, Merope is at sea, for nothing he says is making sense. She doesn’t know how menstruation, conception and pregnancy work. The world hasn’t bothered to tell her.

Also...partying would have eaten into Tom’s money anyway, but the general strike and its disruption of transportation has made goods like food much more expensive. Though Tom doesn’t want to admit it, his funds are running frighteningly low. He needs the good will of his parents to acquire more cash, and quickly He also needs to square matters with the  rich, upper-class, utterly suitable young woman he’s actually going to marry while assuring her that the Merope situation is no fault of his. 

Arguments begin breaking out daily, then hourly. Tom starts them, taunting Merope’s wall-eyes and ignorance. She despairs when she hears this--after all, mockery and derision are all she’d ever heard from her father and brother.   She loves Tom desperately, but he doesn’t love her.

She doesn’t yell, because she’s been trained since childhood not to. Instead, she begs him frantically, frenziedly not to leave her, because he's the one who knows how to handle this incomprehensible city.  But her panic repels Tom, who sees it as clingy manipulation. It’s only London, after all. There’s nothing to fear.

So one day he returns home--without telling Merope. She's escorted out of the hotel room shortly after that.  He didn’t stiff her with the bill, but not out of kindness. He simply doesn’t want anything, even a bill, tying him to her.

Merope is now alone and adrift in London.  No money. No marketable skills. No transportation beyond her own feet--she has no way of paying for buses or cabs, and she may not even know the Underground exists. And no home.  It’s August, maybe September of 1926.  A rainy August, a mild September.  She’s five or six months along.  And winter is coming.

It comes in October, with freezing cold for most of the month and a snowstorm on the 28th.

She’s been living rough for a month or two. The clothes she’d worn earlier that year aren’t warm enough for October, and the cold has begun to gnaw at her bones. She's starving, too, and by now she knows that countless Muggles, all more qualified for any job than she is, are also out of work, thanks to May’s general strike.

She doesn’t ask anyone else for help. She should, but Tom was the only Muggle she ever really knew--and he betrayed her. She can’t bring herself to  trust another.

And oh, she doesn’t dare go home. Even if she knew where it was and how to get there, her father would beat her to death for polluting the pure line of Gaunt with a Muggle’s get. And her brother Morfin would join in. Happily.

She begs--for food, mostly, though sometimes people give her money. Sometimes, too, they give her advice--to go to a church or a shelter or some government office. Merope nods and smiles and ignores the advice. She’s not going to trust the Muggle government after this past May, and she won’t shelter with dozens of Muggles. That would be suicide.

November 1926 is one of the wettest on record in the UK. Merope falls ill halfway through the month. She’s starting to have trouble breathing, and she’s tired and achy all the time. 

December is filled with bitter, Arctic chill. 

Merope has little strength left. She’s not getting enough air, somehow, and she’s constantly shaking with heat or cold, she doesn’t know which. Her vision is blurry, and even when she can obtain food, it’s hard to keep it down.

You’re dying, a voice says deep inside, and she knows the voice is right.

One day, she spots a building with lots of people caring for babies and children. She asks meekly, and someone--whoever tossed her a sixpence? another beggar?--tells her it’s an orphanage. Merope doesn’t know what that is, but she knows her baby would be better off inside the building than outside it. 

December 31, 1926 is a mild, sunny day. Merope thinks of it as a good omen...until the pains start.

Merope doesn’t know anything about childbirth; she simply feels as if she’s being ripped apart from the inside out. She screams, not even caring if the Muggles hear. 

Somehow, somehow, she manages to limp and crawl to the orphanage. She knocks on the door, which is the bravest thing she’s ever done. But her baby can’t survive a winter on the street. Maybe the Muggles will take care of him if they don’t know his mother was a witch.

She doesn’t even notice that she’s thinking of herself in the past tense.

A woman named Mrs. Cole answers the door and bustles her into a spare bedroom. It’s still unbearably cold, so cold that Merope thinks that her bones will shatter from shaking so hard, but there’s light and color and oh, it reminds her of the hotel room before everything went wrong. And Mrs. Cole is speaking to her in a kind, soothing tone and letting Merope grip her arms when the pains are bad. For the first time since Tom, Merope feels valued. Safe.

Her son is born at a minute to midnight, a scrawny scrap of humanity. Small wonder. Merope’s had little enough to eat for months. He has good strong lungs, though, which pleases her in a dim way. The world seems to be fading away, but that’s all right. She just wants to sleep.

She hears Mrs. Cole asking her something. Not her name--she told Mrs. Cole that before. Oh! The baby’s name.

There’s only one name she could give him--the one Muggle name that means anything to her. 

“Tom,” she murmurs. “Tom...Riddle...Jun--”

And a soothing darkness claims her.

[birdy-bat-writes]

Friends Day In

Word count: 2.3k

Prompt: You and Jason planned to spend the day together, until Roy called asking him to babysit.

I might rewrite this one in the future with a different character because I like the prompt. Hope you enjoy it!

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

It was relatively cold for a summer day in Gotham. There was a breeze blowing and it didn’t smell like smoke. The sky was a rich blue and filled with white clouds. The sun was shining over the city. It was weird. But the good kind of weird. You weren’t used to Gotham looking this pretty, and neither were you used to playing dollies with a five-year-old, so nothing about today was normal. But you liked It!

The night before, you convinced Jason to take day off from everything and spend some time with you, because you hadn’t had a best friend’s day out in a very long time. He had been busy on missions away from you and you really missed him. Not as much as he missed you though. You hadn’t heard someone say yes that quickly in your life! The two of you had decided on meeting up at his place and going out later. The evening would end with dinner although you hadn’t decided if it would be a ‘takeout and movies’ kind of night, or the ‘chili dogs and strolling down the street’ type yet. You supposed you’d let the magic of the moment bring you to a decision, because either way if you were together you had something to enjoy.

That morning you hopped out of bed with a spring in your step. You were definitely more willing to get out of bed than you usually were, but who could blame you? You hadn’t had any quality time Jason in weeks. The idea of seeing your best pal and crush after that long was enticing enough to get you to pick out your clothes, finish a shower and breakfast all in under an hour. Somewhere around 12:00 pm, you headed oto your car, or should we say, skipped to your car and made your way downtown, opening the windows and enjoying the cool air.

Jason was in a similar position. He too, woke up feeling more energized and got through his morning routine much quicker than necessary, but he couldn’t help himself. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, paired with his favorite leather jacket, to give him the boost he knew he’d need today. Jason was looking forward to seeing you today for more than one reason; the first obviously being that he missed you, and the second being that he realized he didn’t want to have to miss you as much as he did and today would be the day he would confess how he felt about you. He had been in love with you for about year, and now he wanted you to know. So, he stared at his TV, not really paying attention to what was playing. He only glanced at his phone to check the time.

The next time he picked up his phone it buzzed it his hand. Roy was calling. “Hey, Roy. What’s up?”

“Jay, there’s an emergency.”

“What’s wrong?” Jason’s casual tone shifted to something a little more serious.

“There’s something going on in Star City. Oliver needs me.”

“Oka-,”

“Of course, I’ll watch her, don’t worry about it. And Roy, in our line off work, there isn’t exactly time off. Will you drop her over?” Jason could hear the panic in Roy’s voice and kept his own soft. This must be really bad. The last thing he wanted was to give Roy another reason to worry and taking are of Lian was the least he could do for his best pal.

The unfortunate downside to this would be that he would miss out on his time with you. He knew you would understand but the pang of guilt in his chest still stayed. He was just about to call you when he heard his doorbell ring. He opened the door to you, wearing that slightly apologetic look and you knew something was up.

“Hi, what’s wrong?”

“Y/N, I’m really sorry. Somethings come up.”

“That’s okay, but… What’s going on?”

“Roy needs to leave town for an emergency, and he needs me to take care of Lian. There was no one else he could find in time.”

“That’s alright, Jay. We could meet up another day.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He had an idea. “But you know you’re welcome to stay. We can have a friend’s day in!”

“That sounds great, but what about Lian?”

“We can hang out while she’s here. She’s an absolute angel. When did you meet her last?”

“Well it’s been a while, I haven’t seen her in like a year.”

“You should stay. We can babysit together. She’ll love you.” He flashed you his signature smile, dimples and all. You were a little hesitant, you didn’t want to take up too much of his time if he was busy. You knew what Roy and Jason did wasn’t easy and things often came up, so you were more than understanding. Jason then added a, “Please?”

“Okay.”, you said, putting your purse down the table.

Only minutes later, the doorbell rang. Jason opened the door and saw Roy with duffle bag thrown over his shoulder and his daughter in his arms. She had a little Dora the Explorer backpack with her and she was smiling, flaunting gaps in her baby teeth.

“Uncle Jay!”

“Hey kiddo!” Roy put her down and she hugged Jason’s legs. He smiled down at her adorable behavior and crouched down to her level, “Why don’t go inside and turn on the TV? We can watch Power Rangers.” He watched her speed away into his apartment and then stood back up. “Roy, be careful Ok?”

“When am I not?” He smirked. “Don’t worry its nothing too crazy, so I’ll only be gone for a few hours. Thanks for doing this.”

“No problem.”

While Jason was and Roy shared their well-wishes, Lian and ran into the living room at speeds that could rival the Flash, and then stopped. She was looking at you, visibly confused.

“Hi! I’m Y/N. You must be Lian. I’m friends with your dad and Jason.” She nodded plopped herself on the couch, one cushion away from you.

“Do you like power Rangers?”

“I do. Which one’s your favorite?”

“Blue one.”

“Blue’s my favorite color.”

“Me too!” She’s so cute. She rummaged through her little backpack and pulled out a small blue whale and two barbie dolls. “Your name is Y/N?”

“Yeah.” You wanted to think it was just something kids did, but something seemed odd about the way she started staring at you. Right on time Jason waked into the living room. He took in the sight of you intently watching power Rangers and holding a doll in your hand next to a small child plying with a whale plushy.

“Anyone hungry?”, he called out.

“Me!” Lian responded.

“PB&J like usual?” She nodded cheerily in response. “Anything for you, Y/N?”

“Can I get a PB&J too?” You asked.

“Anything for my favorite girls.” He said with a breathy laugh and disappeared off into the kitchen. He could kiss his plans of confessing today goodbye, but on the bright side now he had a little more time to plan it. He made four sandwiches and cut the crust off of one. He decided to go the extra mile and cut the sandwich into a heart just to see Lian get excited over it.

He walked back to the living room and put the plates down on the coffee table. He looked up for you and Lian, but you weren’t in the room. He walked around a bit and heard a giggle from the second bedroom. His heart melted at the sight. Lian was sitting on your lap while you were braiding her hair, tying it with a bow hair tie. “Pretty as a princess!”, you called her. Jason had no idea you were that good with kids. It was endearing.

Smiling lightly, he said, “Lunch is ready.” Lian jumped off of you and walked to the living room, picking up her heart-shaped sandwiched. She gasped,

“Thank you!” and began eating her sandwich. You stood next to jason and looked at the little girl in awe.

The day consisted of Pokémon marathons, hide and seek, and a game of tag that ended up with Jason picking you up and running around the apartment. You did the same with Lian the next round. The cheerful energy of little children was very contagious, but at some point, the energy burned out. The three of you sat down to take break before putting Lian down for a nap. Today you saw a side of Jason you didn’t even know existed. He was always calmer and goofier when you were around, but when he was with Lian, it was something else. You fell for him even more, if that was possible. Seeing him with her made your lips involuntarily perk up at the corners. And then it happened.

“Hey uncle jay?”

“Hm?”

“Is this the girl you’re always talking to Daddy about? The soulmate?” you saw Jason stiffen. You were very intrigued though. Jason talked about you to Roy? “Her name is Y/N too. Is she your girlfriend?”

“No, she’s not my girlfriend.” He was genuinely mortified.

“I think she wants to be your girlfriend.” Now it was your turn to stiffen. How did she-? “She hugs you a lot.”

           “Lian aren’t you tired? Let’s get you to bed.”

“Okay. Uncle Jay, you should kiss her.” Jason picked her up and hurried into the guest bedroom, leaving you a blushing mess where you sat.

He returned around ten minutes later, looking pretty tired himself. “I. Am. Exhausted”

“Same here,” you replied. “You’re really good with kids.”

“So are you.”

“Lian is such a sweetheart! Roy is going to have to deal with me a lot more now.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I want visit Lian all the time.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, can I ask you something?” He nods.

“What was Lian talking about when she said you spoke to Roy about me?”

“Well,” I guess confessing is back on the table. “I talked to Roy about you because I wanted his advice.” You gave him the ‘please elaborate’ look. “I like you.” He finally blurted out.

You looked up at him feeling butterflies. “I like you too, Jay.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you could feel your heart racing. Jason met your eyes, grinning ear to ear and asked,

“So, does this mean I can ask you on a date?”

“I believe it does.”

“Y/N, would you like to go out with me sometime?”

“Yeah I would.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I am a little concerned though.”

“About?”

“You were trained by the world’s greatest detective, and yet, a five-year-old figured that I liked you before you did.” Jason’s expression turned into one of both shock and disappointment and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Todd, you’re losing your edge. You were beaten by a toddler.”

“Huh, so were you!” The two of you joked around quietly as not to wake the toddler in the other room. “You know it’s only 6:30. Feel like staying for dinner?”

“I’d like that.” You were looking up him due to the height difference.

The phone rang. Roy was calling to let Jason know he would be by to pick Lian up soon. The two of you sat comfortably and put on a movie.

“You sure you don’t want to watch power Rangers? I know how much you love the blue one.” He teased, which earned him a light punch to the shoulder.

Soon after, Lian woke up from her nap and crawled in between you. There was comfortable silence in the room. Jason had his arm around you, and you nuzzled into him holding Lian. The way Lian held his hand made your heart swell. He was going to be the best father one day.

Just then the doorbell rang. “That’s your dad.” She climbed down and walked with Jason to the door.

“Daddy!”

“Hey princess!” He lifted her into his arms. “Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah! I played with Jay and Auntie Y/N.”

“Oh, wow.” Roy looked at Jason with an eyebrow raised. “Auntie Y/N?” as if on cue, you showed up at the door.

“Hey, Lian you forgot your backpack.” You said handing it to her. “Roy! Oh, my goodness I haven’t seen you in a month! You have got to come over more.” You said, hugging him.

“I definitely will.” He said, hugging back with one arm.

“Good. Bye guys! I’ll see you soon!” And with that you, turned back and made your way to the kitchen.

“Roy how’d everything go? Is the city Ok?”, Jason asked.

“Yeah, yeah. City’s fine, Ollie’s fine. What’s up with you two? Did you finally tell her?”, Roy asked expectantly. With a smirk and a dramatic sigh, Jason replied,

“All I will say is that your daughter is a much better wing woman than you.” He punctuated his sentence by high fiving the little girl in Roy’s arms.

“ARE YOU GUYS DAT-?!”

“Bye, Roy! Bye, Lian! See you guys later…!” And he closed the door, fully expecting his phone to be flooded with messages in an hour, but in the meantime, he planned on taking advantage of some much-needed alone time with his new girlfriend.

“So, princess, where would you like to go for dinner?” Snaking your arms around his torso, you said,

“I don’t know, what do you feel like having?”

“You in my arms.” Your face heated up.

“I meant for dinner! And I’m already in your arms.” He chuckled lightly.

“Chinese takeout?”

“Chinese takeout.”

“And movies?”

“Of course.”

“…. Cuddles?”

“Like we don’t do that anyway.” All in all, that day did not go as planned but you weren’t about to complain.

[riversofmars]

Chapter 10: The Lesser Evil

Tranzelore

“Don’t go, please my love, it’s too dangerous.“ River pleaded, grabbing her husband’s arm as he headed for his time stream that pulsed and flared in the middle of his supposed tomb.“You can’t cross into your own time stream.“ It was done, Vastra, Jenny and Strax where back, so were Amy and Rory. Clara had done it, jumping into his time stream, she had stopped the Great Intelligence at every turn, keeping the timeline intact. There was nothing left to do.

“I’ve got to get her out.“ He insisted stepping closer to his time stream.

“You could die, you could cease to exist.“ River argued trying to stop him.

“She’s always there, all over my time stream, that is why she is important.“ The pieces were falling into place. This was why they had been encountering Clara over and over again. He had been so intrigued and finally, he had figured it out. “Run you clever boy and remember.“ He echoed the words she had said to him many times over.

“Darling.“ River could sense she wasn’t getting anywhere, her husband was in a world of his own thoughts.

“Finally I’ve worked her out.“ He grinned, pleased with the accomplishment. Initially he’d only kept her close out of curiosity, trying to work out how she could be appearing and dying again and again but what a nice surprise that she was actually a loyal friend all along. Sacrificing herself by jumping into his time stream, he could hardly think of a greater proof of loyalty.

“Then leave it at that.“ River tried to reason with him. “We’re safe, the timeline is intact, don’t risk it now, making her sacrifice pointless.“

“I won’t fail.“ He reassured her, a confident smile on his handsome features.

“But what if you do.“ River exclaimed. “You can’t risk your life for hers!“

“Why not?“ He looked back at her confused.

“Why not?!“ River echoed his words in disbelief.

“There are only very few people we can truly trust River, we need to keep them close. She’s just proven her loyalty.“ He looked back to the pulsing energy as if he could see Clara within it. “I owe her to get her out of there.“

“Is that all? Loyalty?“ River’s words were sharper than she had intended, revealing more than she meant to.

“River.“ He groaned in annoyance. Jealousy was not an attractive quality.

“I think it’s a fair question, you’d make me a widow of me in a pointless attempt at saving her?“ River retorted accusingly. Surely he had to know how this would make her feel.

“River, I love you, you must know that.“ He started reaching for her hand, trying to reassure her.

“Then listen to me!“ River insisted, her expression one of both anger and fear. What if he did, in fact, lose himself in there? She couldn’t bare the idea of losing him.

“I always listen.“ He told her and pulled her into his arms. “You’re the one that always here by my side, you’re the first thing I see when I wake and the last when I go to sleep. And I always listen.“ He pressed a kiss to her hair. “But sometimes, you have to listen to me too when I tell that this is what I have to do.“ He took her face in his hands and kissed her, hoping to convey his love and devotion. “Trust me?“ He asked softly as they parted.

“Always.“ River smiled. That impossible, infuriating man.

“See you in a minute, Professor Song.“ He gave her a wink, straightened his bowtie and jumped into his time stream.

——

“Now isn’t that a bit forward, seeing as you’re still fully dressed, Doctor?“ River smirked as she grabbed the Doctor by the collar and ripped her shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. The Doctor jolted back, colour draining from her face. She was too shocked to respond and River took advantage of her stupor. She pulled her around, knocking her into the wall face first. The Doctor tried to pull away but River pinned her against the wall with her own weight. “What? Should I not have said anything? Would you like to keep going and we pretend I don’t know who you really are?“ River hummed against the shell of her ear as she pressed herself against her. She brushed her hair aside and pushed her other hand around her, fumbling with the button of her trousers.

“You knew.“ The Doctor groaned as River trailed kisses up the side of her neck. She tried to pull away from her touch. This had been a terrible idea. She was already regretting her moment of weakness. “When did you realise?“

“About five seconds in.“ The amusement was audible in River’s sultry voice.

“Then why did you…“ The Doctor tried to throw her off, anxiety building as River succeeded in unbuttoning her trousers. She should have realised this was a trap, she should have questioned why River had fallen for her act so completely. She should have known she wouldn’t be able to imitate the Emperor well enough to fool her own wife.

“It got you here, didn’t it? Also… I was curious to see how far you’d go…“ River chuckled as she buried her hand in the Doctor’s hair and pulled her head back. “Maybe I should have let you carry on, now we will never know.“ She ran her hand along the waistband of her Doctor’s pants, clearly enjoying the Doctor’s near-panic as she fought against her. “But alas, I couldn’t do that to my wife.“ Unexpectedly, she let go of her and took a step back, tying up her nightgown. “I didn’t think that I would have to be the one to stop.“ She tilted her head in amusement as she watched the Doctor turn around quickly doing up her trousers, she tried to pull the shirt shut to cover herself up but the buttons were all but two ripped off. Her eyes darted around the room for a way out as River regarded her like a lioness her prey. “Don’t even think about it. I triggered a silent alarm ages ago when I went to get changed.“ River smirked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Of course you did.“ The Doctor groaned, annoyed by her own stupidity, she really should have known.

“Well, I didn’t know how much time I would have. How was I to know you were that easily to keep close.“ River chuckled. “The guards are outside the door and my wife should be home any minute. You think you had a hard time last time? Just wait till she finds out what you’ve been up to.“

——

“Fine, no more games.“ Clara chuckled, there was no need for theatrics now that she had got River out of sight of anyone else. “I think that’s quite enough of that.“ Somewhere in the other room the squark of a raven sounded making River look around for a second. As she looked back to Clara, her tattoos began to blur, rising up into the air.

“A quantum shade.“ River jerked back, immediately realising what she was dealing with.

“Aren’t you the perceptive one.“ Clara replied patronisingly as she pushed River’s hand with the knife away. “Now, I suggest you stop this.“ She tried to shove her off and River obliged, she got to her feet and stepped back, keeping the swirling darkness in her sights. She knew when something could be fought and when it was better to take a step back and reevaluate her options. “There’s a good girl.“ Clara got to her feet as River tried to formulate an escape plan.

“You’re trying to use me to get to the Doctor. Is she even here?“ River tried her best to control her anger, as she realised what was going on. She wanted answers. She didn’t do well at the mercy of others. She threw the butter knife across the room in anger.

“Oh she’s here alright.“ Clara said softly. “And yes, I am going to use you to get her help.“

“Her help? If you need help, you just ask for it! You don’t have to blackmail the Doctor, the Doctor always helps if…“ River exclaimed but Clara started laughing, interrupting her.

“The Doctor always helps.“ She mimicked her. “I bet she does as well… You’re so naive. Both of you are. It’s laughable. Just between us girls, River, I don’t think it’s the sort of help she’ll want to give.“

The Raven burst out of the other room making River take a step back. It landed on Clara’s shoulder as she held out the note she’d written earlier.

——

“Alright, fine, shouldn’t have done this, I get it.“ The Doctor tried her best to steady her voice. “Brain short-circuited, physically you could be my wife after all.“

“Yes yes and since she’s dead, it’s not really cheating, is it? You tell yourself that. I thought you were someone who would be kept up at night by this sort of thing but maybe I underestimated you after all. Or I overestimated your devotion to your wife.“ River hummed with no small measure of gratification in her voice. “Do you still want my hand between your legs, Doctor?“

“That’s quite alright, I can sort that out for myself later.“ The Doctor bit back, trying to give as good as she got and gloss over how much her words stung.

“I very much doubt you’ll get the opportunity.“ River grinned briefly glancing to the door. The Doctor couldn’t be sure if she actually expected her wife to return any moment now or if she was only trying to intimidate her by acting like she would. Either way, she needed to get out of here now.

“You really are remarkably like my River, witty, determined, strong… but there’s just one thing, one mistake my River never would have made.“ The Doctor said as River returned her attention to her.

“Yeah? And what’s that?“ River laughed.

“My River never let’s me keep my sonic when she doesn’t want me to get out of handcuffs.“ The Doctor grabbed her sonic screwdriver from her back pocket and blasted River with it. It wasn’t much, not harmful, not debilitating but for a moment, she blinded her, disoriented her, scrambling the signals from the nerves in her eyes to her brain. A moment was all the Doctor needed to bolt and rush to the TARDIS. River screamed, not in pain but in anger as she needed a moment to recover. The Doctor wasn’t even paying attention to her anymore, she didn’t look back, when she found the TARDIS wasn’t locked. She rushed inside and the lights came on. It wasn’t the warm golden light she knew, it was red and garish against the black walls.

“Really bloody cheerful.“ The Doctor mumbled to herself as she hurried to the console. She started pressing buttons and pulling levers but the TARDIS revolted. The humming and wheezing was loud, unhappy, the Doctor got an electric shock and she pulled her hand back. The TARDIS knew she wasn’t the Emperor and she was refusing to cooperate.

“She won’t let just anyone fly her.“ The Doctor whirled around to see River heading for her. The diversion had been even less effective than she had hoped. “You’re going to regret this, Doctor.“ River snarled.

“Emergency teleport then!“ The Doctor used her sonic to blast the TARDIS console. Sparks flew and River lunged forward but the TARDIS control room around her disappeared. It wasn’t ideal, she didn’t have the TARDIS like she had hoped, but it was a way out.

When the Doctor materialised she looked around panicked, trying to orient herself.

“Great, it worked!“ She exclaimed as she recognised Clara’s quarters. “Clara! We need to talk!“ She looked around for Clara but froze when she found a second person with her. “River…“ The Doctor’s eyes widened in shock. There was no way the Emperor’s wife would have been able to get here before her. She wouldn’t have known where the teleport went and this River was wearing the environmental suit she had worn in the Library. There was only one explanation. The Doctor’s head was spinning, she felt sick as her emotions overwhelmed her. The extraction chamber had worked, River was here.

River looked back at her in surprise. This woman had just appeared out of thin air and judging by the look on Clara’s face, she hadn’t expected her sudden appearance either. The blonde looked at her as if she was a ghost or perhaps a wish come true? There were all sorts of emotions painted on her soft features and tears were welling up in her big eyes that were so impossibly deep and old, not at all matching the youthfulness of her pretty face.

“Doctor?“ River asked slowly remember what Clara had told her. The Doctor was a woman now and this woman looked at her as if she was her sun and stars.

“River, you’re alive!“ The Doctor exclaimed and throwing caution to the wind she rushed to her, flinging herself around her neck. River was overwhelmed, she nearly knocked her off her feet but she pulled her close, held her, reflex more than anything else, as she tried to wrap her head around what she already knew to be true.

“Is it really you?“ She asked tentatively as she pulled back and looked the blonde up and down.

“Oh right, you haven’t seen this face before.“ The Doctor smiled as she took a step back and wiped away a few stray tears in embarrassment.

“Can’t say that I mind…“ River chuckled. “What have you been up to?“ She raised her eyebrows at her barely buttoned shirt.

“Ah… uhh…“ The Doctor blushed and a crushing wave of guilt came over her, overshadowing her joy for seeing her. What had she done? How could she? She struggled to breath as she was searching for the right words.

“Sorry to interrupt this touching moment, but you are in my quarters.“ Clara interrupted at last, fed up of being ignored. She scrunched up the note she had been about to give her Raven. There was no need for it now. This was even better than she could have imagined.

“Clara.“ The Doctor pulled River behind herself as she turned to face her.

“How nice of you to join us, Doctor.“ Clara smirked, observing her protective gesture with amusement. Yes, this would work very well indeed. “It seems as though you forgot something in the extraction chamber.“

“What’s going on here?“ The Doctor demanded to know.

“What’s going on is that I was just trying to work out what exactly happened when you came here, Doctor, and as I was having my look around the extraction chamber, your wife appeared.“ Clara explained with a smug smile.

“River, are you okay, are you…“ The Doctor glanced to her wife and grabbed her hand to assure herself she was here.

“Alive? I think so. As alive as one is coming out of an extraction chamber…“ River replied giving her hand a squeeze. “I know what it does Doctor, you sentimental idiot, you couldn’t just let me die, could you? I’ll have to go back eventually, you know, unless you want a paradox ripping time apart… again…“ She knew the sad truth behind what the Doctor had done. As much as she appreciated the sentiment, there was more heartbreak to come for them, it couldn’t be avoided. And yet, she was grateful for every moment she got to spend with her husband… wife.

“But not for a while. How about we deal with all that when we get out of here.“ The Doctor suggested, trying not to think about what she was implying.

“Sounds like a good idea.“ River nodded looking around for an escape route again.

“You are not going anywhere, Doctor, not just yet. Mind you, we probably haven’t got long to have this conversation. Your teleport, I’m sure they’ll be able to trace it.“ Clara pointed out.

“I don’t think there are any guards at the door.“ River said and the Doctor nodded, having come to the same conclusion.

“Run?“ The Doctor suggested as they inched away from Clara.

“Let’s.“ River agreed and they bolted to the door but Clara had other ideas. The Raven took off and sailed in front of them, barring the door.

“I don’t think so.“ Clara hummed and the tattoos dissolved, swirling into to air and jolted forward. The dark smoke struck the back of River’s neck forming a quantum lock.

“No!“ The Doctor shouted whipping back around to Clara.

“Do I have your attention now, Doctor? I said we need to have a conversation.“ Clara crossed her arms in front of her chest expectantly.

“Take it off her.“ The Doctor yelled taking a threatening step towards Clara who grinned:

“I will, eventually, if you agree to help me with a little something.“

“What?“ The Doctor asked and looked to River with great worry. River touched the back of her neck her expression darkening. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“I would like your help, Doctor. Your wife assures me one only needs to ask for your help? Well, I thought it would be more convincing if I had your wife as collateral.“ Clara revealed and the Doctor squared her jaw.

“What do you want?“

“You’ve been here long enough now to know, Doctor, that this is not a nice place. You’ve been to the streets, you’ve seen the poverty, the state of the Empire? Perhaps you will reconsider what we talked about before?“ Clara smiled.

“You want to topple the Emperor.“ The Doctor concluded with a sigh.

“I’d never be able to do it by myself as you know and it’s unlikely I’ll ever be able to convince her that I am a far more suitable match for her… so I’m left with few options.“ Clara confirmed with a shrug.

“I won’t kill anyone, not even her…“ The Doctor retorted firmly.

“I realise that and I don’t expect you to. What I do need you to do is play a role. It looks like you have been having a practice run already. There is a ceremony tomorrow, celebrating the Emperor’s return to Gallifrey, it’s the most important holiday. That is why the Emperor has been so eager to get information out of you so quickly, I presume she was trying to announce the next big chapter for the Empire tomorrow.“ Clara explained crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“That’s never going to happen, I would sooner die than tell you how…“ The Doctor shook her head. River looked on in confusion. Who was this mysterious Emperor they were referring to? It sounded like the Doctor had been here a while already and was one step ahead of her.

“Oh I know and I’ve accepted that. I want you to announce the next big chapter in the history of the Empire in her stead tomorrow.“ Clara clarified and the Doctor understood:

“Transfer power to you.“

“Exactly. Not so difficult, is it? Small price to pay for your wife’s life isn’t it?“ Clara glanced to River who still had confusion painted all over her face.

“And how are you going get rid of the Emperor?“ The Doctor asked which seemed to be the one big catch.  

“You leave that to me. You just be back here tomorrow at noon. I would keep you here but you’ve ruined it now with your teleport trick. It they find you here we’re both done for, they need to see you fleeing the palace so the don’t suspect me.“ Clara sighed, what an inconvenience. Likelihood was they had traced the teleport by now and were on their way here. She had to wrap this up.

“And what if I don’t agree?“ The Doctor huffed.

“You will do this for me, Doctor, or your wife, who was so very fortunate to get a second lease on life, will die.“ Clara shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s really a very easy decision to make. I will contact you with the details, my Raven will find you.“

“Take off the lock.“ The Doctor demanded, her voice firm.

“Once I can be sure of your cooperation.“ Clara smiled giving River a wink.

“Fine, alright, I’ll do it, but you leave her alone.“ The Doctor threatened.

“I’ll take the mark off her once it’s done.“ Clara clapped her hands together in excitement.

“No! You take it off her and you take it off her NOW!“ The Doctor yelled jabbing her finger at her.

“Alright, fine. Just remember I can put it back whenever I please.“ Clara huffed and with a wave of her hand, the chrono lock disappeared from River’s neck. River gave a sigh of relief.

“And you take it off the Monk.“ The Doctor went on, remembering why she had come here in the first place.

“The Monk?“ Clara frowned confused.

“Sign of good faith. If you want my help, do it.“ The Doctor insisted.

“Alright, fine, don’t care about him either way.“ Clara gave another wave of her hand. It wasn’t like the Emperor had any way of finding out about this.

“Doctor, you can’t help her…“ River spoke up. She wasn’t sure what exactly was going on but the Doctor was being blackmailed into doing something she didn’t want to do, and that in itself was enough information for her to protest.

“It’s a matter of the lesser evil, River. You haven’t met the Emperor yet… and her wife.“ The Doctor replied, hoping she never would come across them. “They deserve it.“

“Yes they do, Doctor. I’m glad you have come to your senses.“ Clara agreed.

“When it’s done, I’m taking the TARDIS. You can’t fly it anyway. I will need it to find a way home.“ The Doctor realised this was the right moment to bargain. If she wanted to find a way back to her own universe, the TARDIS would be her best bet.

“Fine.“ Clara smiled at her graciously. She had no use for the TARDIS anyway. The Emperor and her wife were the only ones that could fly her. She couldn’t imagine the Doctor would even find a way of using it. “See, the things we can accomplish when we work together.“

“Then you have yourself a deal.“ The Doctor nodded. Her best and only cause of action right now was to agree. She could reevaluate her options later when her and River had got to relative safety.

“Now, I suggest you go, before the guards turn up.“ Clara engaged a screen on the wall, surveillance of the corridor outside.

“River…“ The Doctor grabbed her wife’s hand again but Clara cut in:

“…will be my honoured guest until tomorrow. No harm will come to her, I need her as assurance and you know I wouldn’t harm her, else I would have nothing to pressure you with.“ The Raven squawked for emphasis. “You know I’m right.“ She extended her hand to River. “Unless you’d like that chrono lock back?“

“I’ll be fine, Sweetie.“ River gave her wife’s hand a squeeze before letting go and joining Clara though ignoring her hand. “I’m sure Clara and I have a lot to talk about.“ Perhaps she could find out more about this place.

“We’ll braid each other’s hair and drink champagne, nothing for you to worry about, Doctor.“ Clara smirked at the Doctor who balled her fists, feeling anxious. She didn’t like the idea of leaving River here but under the circumstances she might not have another choice. She glanced to the screen and spotted guards heading their way. They were running out of time. “Now be a dear and make sure they see you as you bolt down the corridor so they leave us alone in here.“ Clara said going her a little wave.

“Everything will be fine, River, I promise, I will come back for you.“ The Doctor looked to her wife who gave her a little smile.

“Well, you better, what good was all that business with the extraction chamber if you don’t.“ River winked. “Go before they catch up with you.“

“I will be back.“ The Doctor insisted. There was so much she wanted to say, she had played it out so many times in her mind of what she would say if she ever got to see River again, but now there was no time. And very little hope. But she took what she could from the little smile and nod River gave her. There was time for words later.

The Doctor had hardly pulled the door shut behind her, when she heard voices. She hurried towards the hidden passage way but hung on by the corner where she could still see the door to Clara’s rooms. She couldn’t allow for River to get caught. If they had in fact traced her teleport signal, they would be searching for her there. When she realised the guards indeed headed straight for the door, she knocked over a nearby bust that crashed to the ground and drew their attention. Calling “Oi! Over here.“ would have been too obvious, they couldn’t realise she was drawing their attention on purpose. When she was sure they’d seen her, she bolted down the corridor. Luckily, she knew more than one secret shortcut to the city below.

——

Clara knocked over a table and some vases, creating traces of a struggle. She picked up a shard from the broken vase and cut her own arm, barely flinching. River raised her eyebrows, concluding that she had to be very scared of the Emperor to go to such lengths to not be found out.

“I don’t think I have to explain to you what will happen if anyone finds you in here.“ Clara caught the questioning expression on River’s face and ushered her to a small room further into her quarters.

“No, you don’t but there is something you do need to explain to me: the Emperor, who is she? And why do you need the Doctor?“ River asked.

“Miss Oswald, please open up.“ There was knocking on the door.

“We haven’t got time for this, get in here and not a sound.“ Clara pushed her into the room and locked the door. River didn’t struggle, she didn’t trust Clara but she trusted the Doctor and if she was concerned for her safety should anyone find her, she know she should try her best to hide. She looked around the room, a small spare bedroom by the looks of it. Nothing much to it, nothing that she could fashion a weapon out of if needed. The vase on the dresser appeared to be her best bet so she grabbed it and stood against the door, pressing her ear to it. She had to find out more about what was going on here.

“Emperor…“ Clara’s voice was distant but clear.

“Don’t even start, Clara! We know she was here. Using my own TARDIS, she’s going to pay for that!“

River froze when she recognised a voice that sounded exactly like the Doctor’s, only with an icy edge to it. Suddenly, Clara’s demands were making a lot more sense. The puzzle pieces were falling into place and River didn’t care for the picture they were revealing.

[adarlingwrites]

Restraint

noun: control over the expression of one's emotions or thoughts

Given the circumstances of their relationship, with Charon being the Lone Wanderer's patient, and the Lone Wanderer being Charon's employer, acting on any attraction they had for one another would be out of the question.

Still, they kept each other in their thoughts.

I - Control

(Part II)

Being someone’s boss isn’t something Percy is used to.

Usually, it’s she who followed orders, either from her father when she’s assisting him in his clinic, or Jonas, if Dad left him in charge. So when she buys a mercenary’s contract from that bastard of a ghoul in Underworld, she doesn't know what to do.

Charon is… complex. Percy wasn’t quite sure what to make of him the first time they met. Oh, she was definitely intimidated, though. A ghoul that tall would make a small girl like her shrink further. Hell, normally she’s pretty gutsy, but when she first spoke to Charon? She stammered and fumbled with her words. Percy would be lying if she didn’t find the ghoul interesting, if not strangely attractive, for his gruff demeanor and imposing size.

When Ahzrukhal, Charon’s former boss, told her that he was brainwashed to follow anyone who owns his contract, she had wanted to set him free. Free-thinking and defiant, she couldn’t imagine being in his shoes. This girl naively and recklessly pitied him. So she bought his contract, with every intention of freeing him from it.

But of course things never were that simple.

He definitely needed help, but it’s gonna take a lot more than just tearing the contract to shreds for him to outgrow his conditioning, so she’d save that for later, when she’s sure he won’t kill her for destroying that stupid piece of paper.

The best she can do now is make him feel as comfortable, cared for, and human as possible.

And what better way to do that than to make him some food, right? Who wouldn’t appreciate food? She used to make her dad and Jonas  dinner after long shifts at the clinic, and they loved that.

After spending some time cooking, Percy washes up and puts on a clean shirt, tying her vault suit’s sleeves around her waist. Light footsteps patter against the metal flooring of the stairs. Clearing her throat, she knocks on Charon’s door.

“Charon?” she calls out to him. She hears rustling and shifting from the other side of the door.

Her bodyguard emerges, and for a brief moment, she feels a hot wave pass through her body. Charon stands there, towering her, broad-shouldered and imposing, his muscles straining under his shirt.

“Miss. What do you need?”

Percy made the mistake of looking below his hips. Blood rushed to her cheeks.

She wasn’t supposed to see that.

Or rather, she shouldn’t be affected seeing that. She’s a doctor in training, for fuck’s sake.

“Lunch is ready,” she said, speech terse. The vaultie whirls around quickly and descends the stairs, hoping that the ghoul mercenary doesn’t notice her embarrassment.

That sight lingered in her mind for days.

Then the days turned into weeks.

Now, she’s laying on her bed, trying to get off using the skin mag she found while scavenging, but its novelty had worn out. No matter how much her fingers worked her clit while staring at the pictures of women in scanty clothing, it didn’t do anything for her now.

Percy tried imagining people she was attracted to in the vault. Amata. Butch. Jonas. She only felt awkward; Amata rejected her, Butch hooked up with Susie while they’re together, and Jonas is... dead.

Shit.

She needed something- or someone else.

She imagines Billy Creel, that fairly attractive guy with an eyepatch who hangs out in the saloon, but she’s not really that into him. Plus, his hair color reminds her of Butch’s.

Percy tries thinking about another hair color. She always found red hair intriguing; there are not a lot of redheads in the vault. It’s a recessive trait too, so it’s pretty rare even in the wasteland.

Her mind wanders to Moira. She’s pretty cute, despite her eccentricity. But she felt more like an older sister she never had, so Percy turned the imagery off. Then her mind goes to Nova. But just like Moira, the bond they share is more sisterly than sexual.

Dammit. Nothing’s working. Maybe she should just think of an imaginary lover.

But wait, who else has red hair?

Charon.

Oh no.

She’s not about to touch herself thinking about her bodyguard, who she also gives medical treatment and psychological counsel to, isn’t she?

The mental image of seeing him with morning wood came back to her psyche and she almost slaps herself for allowing that to happen again.

However, the thought of it finally did get her juices flowing after several failed attempts….

Percy decided that she’ll probably never get the chance to act on it, given the nature of their relationship, so she might as well indulge herself. Fuck it, she’s gonna masturbate thinking about her employee and patient. It’s so wrong on so many levels, but the taboo aspect of it made her heart race. It doesn’t help that he’s a ghoul too.

People found her strange for not finding them revolting. Ghouls piqued Percy’s interest both as a doctor, and a person who never saw one in her life. She never found their condition disgusting; hell, she was in awe when she found out that their bodies adapted to radiation instead of being killed by it. She wanted to know how ghouls’ skin felt like too, but she was too shy to ask Gob, the first one she ever met. He’ll probably think she’s weird.

Percy finally got that opportunity when she started travelling with Charon. Their touches were brief, and it usually happens when she’s patching him up or if he needs to carry her, but she’ll take what she can get.

Spreading her lips apart, Percy works her fingers against her clit, imagining that it was Charon’s instead. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she imagined his face; skin missing from some parts, muscles exposed, but damn, she found his bone structure and those piercing blue eyes lovely.

The vaultie thinks of her bodyguard looking at her with those intense eyes, and using his other hand to tease her hardening nipples. Those lips of his look rough, but Percy still wants them pressed against hers, imagining the texture it must have. Slowly, he would trace her jaw with them, down to her neck, and it would replace his fingers on her chest, eagerly sucking at her tit.

Holding back a moan, the walls were thin after all , Percy imagines Charon’s cock. From what she had gathered from seeing it bulging against the fabric of his pants, it would be thick, long, and heavy. She only ever took dicks in her mouth and her ass in her life in the vault, but nothing the size of that thing between Charon’s legs.

Fuck, would it even fit any of her holes?

Still, she imagines running her hands all over the pulsing flesh, eager to please him. Charon had once told her that some of his former employers used him for their entertainment. She shudders, thinking about how awful and traumatic that must be for him.

She wanted him to be in control of his own pleasure for a change.

So, she imagines Charon, with that gruff, delicious baritone ordering her to get on her knees and suck.

Percy would run her tongue all over his length and try to take him as far as she can, and he’ll grab her short, jet-black hair and shove it down her throat harshly. The thought of choking on him made a moan escape Percy’s lips, and she quickly covers her mouth and stops, listening for any reaction from the other side of the wall.

None.

Good.

Pausing her little self-love session, Percy grabs a handkerchief from her drawer and shoves it in her mouth. She doesn’t return to her bed, however.

In her head, Charon would order her to stand up and bend over the desk, and she does as she’s told both inside and out of the fantasy. Cold metal of the desk against her breasts, Percy ran her finger against her slit, gathering her wetness, and continued to circle against her clit, imagining Charon’s fingers in place of hers.

But then, he will pause, demand that she stays still, and kneels, flicking his tongue out against her slit. His tongue would penetrate her entrance, then go back to circling her clit, and his rough hands would paw at her ass and strike it.

Damn, she can hardly contain herself now.

This imaginary Charon would give a satisfied smile against the skin of her thigh and proceed to shove his length into her, claiming her. He’d be the first man to do so, and God, she’d hope that he would be the last.

She hoped that he would be the last.

Percy lets out a soundless cry as she neared her climax, rubbing herself desperately, glasses fogging from her breaths.

As she reached her climax, foolishly, recklessly, Percy choked out his name.

A few moments later, he was outside her door.

“Miss? You called for me?”

Oh shit.

Not even done coming down from her high, she throws an oversized shirt on, and wipes her essence against the handkerchief she retrieved from her mouth.

With caution, she cracked the door open, hoping that he wouldn’t notice her flushed and dishevelled appearance.

“Charon. Hey. I was wondering what you’d like for lunch tomorrow,” she near-whispers.

The ghoul gives her a blank stare.

“Mirelurk cakes, miss.”

Percy gives him a faint smile.

“Right. I’ll keep it in mind. Good night.”

Percy closes the door and lies on her bed, unable to sleep.

Yeah. It’s no use denying it any further.

She has it bad for him.

But she needs to exercise restraint.

[aurilis]

hi i wanted to ask you if you could do a little fanfic like it would be if Carmen was promised to chase if you can i thank you very much🙂

Hi ! A short one is possible. As for the context, since it seems not realistic to me that Camen can be promised to anyone nowadays, I chose to do it in ancient times, more plausible. Hope you’ll like what I came up with.

Greece, ancient times.

In the streets of a city was running a little girl. Cladded in a white dress, a big smile on her face and her mid-long hair floating around her face, she was heading outside the city, to a meadow. Behind her, her nanny was running after her.

“ Please … lady Carmen … no so fast.” she breathed.

Carmen just laughed, replying that she should be faster. Carmen arrived in the meadow. She used to come here to play with her friends, some coming from another city. Here in Greece, cities were state ruled by monarchs. Carmen was the daughter of the current ruler : Dexter Sandiego.

“ Ah ! There they are !” exclaimed Carmen when spotting to silhouettes approaching.

Her nanny finally caught up with the child, just to see her running again.

“ They should stop … feeding her … on hares !” made the nanny.

Anyway, she could walk now. Carmen was greeting her friends, both coming from the neighbour city : a boy older than her, Chase, also prince and his cousin Julia. The kids began to play while the nanny met the fellow servants accompanying royalties now playing with Carmen. While keeping an eye on the children, they prepared a picnic. One hour later it was all ready to be eaten, and the servants called for the kids. They were fast to arrive, and welcomed the meal with larges smiles. They all rested a bit after that. They returned home when the sun was declining, promising to play again some other day when their lessons would let them sometime again.

Carmen went back satisfied of her day, wishing for more often moments like those. A peaceful day, a day of freedom. As a princess and future ruler, she had a lot to learn. Her days resembled like one of a minister : very busy, quite exhausting. She waited impatiently moments when she could play. Apart from that, life was peaceful, her city prospers. Carmen grew up like a mushroom.

She was still seeing her friends, their games changed as they were now teenagers : riding horses and racing, archery.

“ Hey ! You left before the signal Chase !” shouted Carmen.

She was on a beautiful dark horse.

“ Noooo you’re just too slow, surely because of those pounds you gained lately !” he teased, on his brown destrier

Carmen replied by a shocked sound, while Julia had a laugh.

“ Just you wait ! I’ll transform you into a pulp, not that it would change !”

She heeled her horse, beginning to catching up with him. But Chase didn’t say his last word and neither did his horse. They ran side by side, jesting with each other until the finish line where they spotted Julia outrunning them and winning. The losers grumbled. They let their horses resting and feeding, admiring the sky laid on the grass. Carmen breathed. She liked those moments so much. She glanced at her friends around her. Chase promised to be an attractive man later. He already was in fact … Julia would break some hearts too.

They parted at sunset too. While she was enjoying her day, Dexter was in a meeting with his counsellors. It was time to think about betrothing her. The young girl was in the process of becoming one of the most beautiful woman in Greece. Surely lots of men would want her hand. Better settle this before initiating any conflicts. So here they were, to choose a husband for her.

Carmen entered the palace in this instant. She asked her dear nanny about her father.

“ Well, he’s in the middle of a meeting right now, your highness.”

“Oh, alright I’ll see him later then.”

Carmen went to her mother she embraced. She spoke about her day of course. Helena was listening to her daughter with pleasure, around a drink.

“ Oh ?”

Carmen’s face brighten all of a sudden. She was talking about Chase, that prince from the neighbouring city. Helena stared at her daughter.

“ Well, well, well.”

Dexter arrived an instant later. He hugged Carmen, before asking how was her day. The princess joyfully answered.

“ I’m glad you have a wonderful day. Now, go to you room and change clothes for dinner will you.”

“Yes dad !”

They watched her running to her room.

“ So ? Did you find someone for her ?” asked the queen.

“ Yes.”

“ And when do you plan to discuss this with her ?”

Dexter gulped. Carmen was known to be found of freedom, not sure she’d like to learn about her betrothal.

“ We still have time for that. Starting tomorrow I’ll send an ambassador to request an audience with her promised one’s father.” announced Dexter.

Helena sighed. The sooner the better according to her, however her husband wanted to preserve their daughter’s happiness for now.

Time flowed again, while Dexter was arranging her wedding Carmen was getting closer to her friend Chase. Julia was fast to notice it and found great joy in teasing each other about that. They denied it strongly at first.

“ Come on Carmen, you should see yourself : both of you are turning ruby so deep that I’m thinking about opening a stand for barbecue, you would be the grill,  and sell it to passers-by.” made Julia.

“ Me ? N-n-n-no I’m not !” protested the princess.

Julia rolled eyes.

“ You two love each other. So please confess because your clumsiness is about to get on my nerves.”

“ You really think Chase loves me ?” asked Carmen shyly.

“ No, his blushing are simply a skin disease, and his smiles a way of ventilating his mouth !”

Carmen sniggered. The princesses parted. Carmen was thoughtful on her way home. It was true that the young man was often present in her mind lately. She waited even more impatiently to see him, and was sad more then before to part with him. The princess was musing on her possible feeling when a servant announced that her father requested her. Intrigued, she obeyed and went to him. Dexter welcomed her then invited her to sit? He said he had an important new for her. Carmen was 18, more than about time to get married. She startled hearing that. WHAT.

Dexter avoided looking at her while continuing : he starter negotiations two years ago and betrothed her. Carmen shivered. She trembled, not listening anymore. Betrothed … she was getting married. To someone she probably didn’t know, and certainly didn’t chose.

“ Carmen, are you okay ?” asked Dexter, finally noticing his daughter’s state.

Carmen didn’t respond. Instead, she stood up and ran away to her room. She was feeling nauseous. She paced in her room. All she could think bout was no. No it couldn’t be. She would never accept to marry a perfect stranger, someone she didn’t even have the slightest clue about, someone else than … She stopped. She had to do something. No way she’ll let that happen. She would chose her own destiny. Carmen closed her eyes. It would hurt her parents … but she had no other choice. The princess swiftly grabbed some clothes and money she stuffed in a bag. She stopped once again, breathless. It was a princess duty to marry someone that her parents would choose. But Carmen always figured that hers would let her have a word in it. That they would talk about it with her, trust her judgement.

Instead they didn’t. She felt betrayed in that instant. So she resumed her idea. Tying bed sheets and clothes together she made a rope. She descended by her window. Finding her horse she put tissue around his hoof to lessen sound and dragged outside. Once far enough, she ride it and ran away. Ran in the night, looking behind her. She was heading to the neighbouring city’s palace. As she was running there, someone else went in the opposite direction. She saw a familiar face. The princess stopped her horse.

“ Chase ?”

“ Carmen ?”

“ What are you doing here ?” they both asked, joining.

It appeared they were both coming to see each other. They were both promised to someone, and couldn’t accept it well … because their heart already belong to the other. They blushed again.

“ Then, let’s run away from here.” said Chase.

“ Right.”

The two of them galloped until their mount got exhausted. At dawn, they embarked in a boat to leave Greece and take refuge in Crete. They comforted each other during the trip.

Thanks to the money they both had, they could buy some land and hire three servants, with a house. They lived happily together like this for a few weeks. Lived free since a long time. Chase was thinking about proposing Carmen, and was looking for a jewel on the market. He chose a ring with a ruby. He went back home, when he noticed to familiar banner on the way. He gasped. Those were his family’s one along with Carmen’s one ! They found them ! He heeled in horse to hurry. They had to run away now. Chase barged in the house while Carmen was preparing the meal.

“ Our families ! They’re here !” he exclaimed.

Carmen went awfully pale. She pointer her finger behind Chase. Too late. They were already here. Carmen  grabbed Chase’s arm. No. It couldn’t end up like that, it just couldn’t ! She would never agree to be separated from him, forever. Chase tightened his jaw. Looked like fight was incoming. Well for Carmen he would fight a god. He spotted his father chamberlain, looking curiously jaded and not angry.

“ Seriously. Couldn’t you wait being married before running away ?” he said.

“ What ?” responded the lovers.

“ Your betrothal. Remember ?” he resumed looking at Carmen.

“ What ?”

The chamberlain lifted his head.

“ Your fathers decided to betrothed you both. Hadn’t you run away you’ll know it. We noticed your attachment to each other, and luckily you were good enough of a party to please the kings and queens. Well until you decided to stupidly flee. So can we now go back home and properly unite you ?”

Oh. Chase and Carmen looked at each other. Ooooooh the shaaaaame ! They leaned their head and agreed. They left their money to their servants for them continuing living. Back home, they didn’t dare to cross their parents’ look. The latter stopped worrying a bit when they learn they ran away together. The wedding was prepared, bride and groom eyes on the floor during most of it, ashamed by what they did. Their parents were amused in the end. More fear than harm, and they should be happy now.

“ My neck hurts from staring at the floor.” mumbled Chase, once they were alone.

“ Don’t mention it, I was looking for a hole to hide in or a bag to cover my face.” moaned Carmen.

“ Weird wedding ever.”

They lifted eyes. Little by little, they exchanged a smile. They were married. Back in home, reconciliated with their parents. Happy weird ending.

( not so short in the end.)