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actuallyevilgay · 6 months

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The Apathy (Part 6)

Astarion x Male Reader/Tav

DNI if you are a minor. Dead dove don’t eat. Please read my about before replying. Content: Ascended Astarion x Male tav, this is post epilogue.

Summary: Astarion's experience of the hand-holding got a little too intense for him.. Meanwhile Gale is trying to figure out what's going on with Tav. Content Warnings: This part contains some smut! NSFT!! A/N: We get some much-needed Gale pov! Hell yeah. Hope you enjoy. Read on ao3 as well!

......

On the way back to the homestead Astarion was renting, his head was racing with many conflicting thoughts. He thought he could keep his cool.. But didn’t expect to so quickly lose sense of his composure after Tav ran off.

The smell.. He was obsessing over it and certainly needed some privacy to come to terms with what happened today. He made a mental note to look into the crazy woman situation, since she would likely show up again sooner or later, his tiefling disguise may have another role to play soon. Just in case, he had commanded the local vermin to keep an eye out for Tav.

Tav may have tried to hide his magic powers due the guard incident, strange as it was for him to cower behind a complete stranger, perhaps he was trying to lie low.. Something about how helpless Tav behaved put Astarion on edge. He’d never seen him like that.

Then again, if he’d been here all this time without anyone knowing he would have built a new identity for himself. No hero of Baldur’s gate, just a barkeep at a tavern which serves tea apparently. Perhaps the final fight with the netherbrain made Tav want to retire into a simpler life, leaving the idea of adventuring behind. Astarion could only speculate on the reasoning.

Astarion didn’t say a word to either Vand or Ty when he entered the house, just traded eye contact and dismissed them by silent command. He headed up the stairs to the bigger bedroom, taking off all his garments and clothes until but the undershirt and pants were left.

With an annoyed grunt, he settled down on the bed in a meditative position, only to swap resting angles several times.. Reverie would not come for him as easily today.

‘’What am I doing..?’’ The mumble tumbled out of his mouth, his fingers slid over the soft covers, finding a pillow to dig his face in.

‘’..Tav..’’ He moaned, squeezing his hands together. The vision of their fingers intertwined returned to him. ‘’Oh.. Dearest..’’ his voice muffled under a deep breath.

A cold hard yearning welled within him, building and building, becoming harder to contain with every second. A single tear escaped from his eyes.

He needed to clear his head as soon as possible.. There were things to be done.

For his trance, he decided to focus on a memory, a particularly fond one he hadn’t revisited since the break up. It was the second time he slept with Tav, only to realise he had grown fond of him in ways he never perceived himself to be able to.

The tiefling party was definitely not to his taste, even now, it still made him feel weird to be celebrated as a hero. Back in Baldur’s gate, that's what he now was known for. It took a lot of manipulating and gaslighting to make sure no one questioned him taking over the szarr estate, ensuring his road to securing the city as his territory.

Back during the adventure, the parasites were the furthest from his mind, he could only think of how worried it made him a monster hunter had joined the band of travellers.. Playing hero had never been part of the plan, the plan was to just survive and slay Cazador.. The road to freedom.

The very first time he slept with Tav was almost no different from when he slept with his marks. The smell of alcohol and dopamine intertwined with adrenaline was Cazador’s favourite part of his ritual. Only to end it with watching his slaves dine on dead putrid rats while he had finished feasting on his victims.

But the second time, at the party, it.. The air had changed. While Tav had not been a victim or target in his mind, the first one night stand was without feeling, just sex.

Asking him the first time was easy, the second time not so much. He was more hesitant, nervous about the journey and going out to sleep in the woods again.

With every pick-up line possible, Astarion kept shooting his shot, wondering to himself why he had been so insistent to sleep with him again even though his protection should be guaranteed by now.

It was less ‘’need to’’ and more ‘’want to’’ or.. ‘’I yearn to,’’ With a lack of better words to explain what he was feeling.. Unsure how to express it beyond physical touch.

When he eventually managed to convince Tav he would be safe, they sneaked away from the festivities to their previous spot.

He recalls walking to the little moonlight lit grove, only to turn around to see Tav quietly and slowly slid his shirt off his shoulders. The light reflected off his skin, glimmering.

While Astarion had pictured this is what he looked like to Tav that first time together, now the roles were reversed and he was mesmerised. There was something incredibly dreamy to him, unforgettable. An ache in his chest and a throb to his undead heart.

Astarion stalled, his fingers firmly clenching his own shirt while he watched Tav never take his eyes off him while undressing himself.

He didn’t realise he had frozen until Tav walked up to him bare, laying a hand on his and guiding him only to stop. ‘’Are you alright..?’’ Tav questioned in a gentle tone.

‘’Are you sure you want this right now?’’

‘’I want you.. I want to devour you.’’ Astarion replied, unfreezing and quickly undoing his clothes to join him bare.

The kiss that followed left him wanting more and more as he drowned into the touch, that uncomfortable feeling of arousal rose up and down until it found its rhythm, sending a wave of pleasure flowing through him.

His hands travelled over Tav’s skin, dancing across tiny hidden scars, pinching the subtle curves in his body. Tav’s back arched, he moaned the second Astarion’s lips found his neck.

He could bite him right there and then, but preferred to tease him.

The scent of alcohol intertwined with dopamine had something to it.. It was much sweeter without the addition of Adrenaline, which had a salty and unsettling flavour to it.

Tav kept drawing him in, his hands caressing gentle patterns over Astarion’s back and his arms. It wasn’t long until their bodies crashed onto the bedroll, with Astarion thrusting himself into Tav’s embrace.

Tav moaned so sweetly, covering his face with his arm out of vulnerability. Astarion wanted to yank his arms above his head, but decided on a gentler approach, kissing his neck until he relaxed in between the thrusts.

When they found a common ground within the rhythm, Astarion started moaning loudly into Tav’s skin. Burying himself with sloppy kisses across his collar bone, licking the sweat off his neck.

He cried out Tav’s name, who only moaned in response at their shared climax. He took a loud breath before opening his eyes looking into Astarion’s directly. Astarion stared back dreamily, pondering in silence.

This was bliss.. It must be. It has to be.

Tav looked at him with cheeks flushed, brushing Hair out of his face. ‘’Careful now, if you’re going to keep looking at me like that I might actually start to believe you’re in love with me.’’ His chest heaved, a pure moment of honesty.

Astarion remembers the weight of the pit in his stomach. Such a sweet moment, one he ruined like so many others.. ‘’Only for tonight, darling.’’ A charming line, perhaps the biggest lie he’s ever said, and he did it so confidently. Scripted, rehearsed.

Tav’s eyes glazed over somewhat, he released a sigh, stretching beneath Astarion. ‘’You haven’t pulled out.’’ He muttered, looking away almost embarrassed as if they did not just have extremely hot passionate sex.

Astarion smirked, feeling rather gloomy when he pulled away, he frowned at Tav, who had now turned to his side, avoiding eye contact.

The vision of the memory began shifting by force, making Astarion roll his head during trance. He couldn’t control what he’d see next.

Astarion could see Tav’s vulnerable bare body one moment, only to be exchanged with a tearful and exhausted expression of shock back at the elfsong inn.

‘’You’re asking too much of me right now, I just want to sleep, to rest.’’

‘’You want to rest? Right now? Walk away in the middle of the most important conversation you’ve ever had?’’

‘’Astarion I-’’

‘’You know what, forget it. I don’t need this.’’

‘’What? I didn’t mean to insult you- today has been a lot for both of us-’’

Astarion couldn’t hear the words he shouted even though they came out of his own mouth, the once so sweet dream now ruined by the night of his enlarged ego. The rush of power fresh in his veins, only to be aimed in the wrong direction.. He didn’t mean it, he didn’t. He was overcome with emotions he could not control, and in that moment he broke his own heart in two.

‘’I’m just so tired..’’

The exhaustive look on Tav’s face came back into his mind, as he turned around and disappeared through smoke and dust.

‘’I’m sorry.’’

The words echoed loudly, sounding just as real and new as the first time he’d spoken them. Astarion could envision the scared look on Tav’s face back in the alley, the nervous glances before he ran off.

He could feel the pressure of his squeeze in the palm on his hand, which shook him out of trance. The wet dream had been pleasant, but now there was just the scent of guilt hanging in the air.

‘’I need a bath..’’

……

The wizard of Waterdeep! Gale Dekarios.. A Teacher at Blackstaff Academy teaching Illusion. Exalted wizard of a and Ex-chosen of Mystra. Son of Morena Dekarios and beloved friend of Tara the tressym.

Not too long ago, he visited his friends 6 months after the defeat of the netherbrain on invitation by Withers.

Gale had been elated, exhausted, as his new job came with a lot of complications.. And he was much in need of seeing familiar faces. ‘’A social palette cleanser’’ Tara called it, ‘’Since you have no other friends,’’ and it had been.. Refreshing. Surely.. Up until the revelation that everyone’s busy lives meant no one had actively looked for Tav. Except for Jaheira perhaps..

Gale’s priority had been to fulfil his promise to deliver the crown to Mystra and be rid of the orb, at the time he had hoped to run into his friends again as soon as it was over with. Eager to get out of Mystra’s hair and her eye, her hands and her whims.

Who would’ve thought that being a goddess’ lover was to be a sour experience? He was over her, that much was certain.. But his acceptance of his mortality and station somehow invoked in her the idea that she could potentially influence him again. To control him.

Requesting Gale to kamikaze had been the tipping point for him to realise their power dynamic, he nearly went over the edge, compelled to take the crown for himself and pursue godhood. But no, he was above it. He was above her antics, even as a mortal.

And this time.. Gale rejected Mystra. He worried she’d smite him for the act, but no. She was satisfied and tossed him out of her realm after business had finished.

No more social calls from Elminster occurred since. Nothing, not even a letter. Perhaps the centuries old arch mage tried to distance himself from Gale for good reasons. Or, Mystra had demanded it. And Mystra gets everything she wants.

Not that it mattered to Gale anymore, he was on a different mission now. One that had nothing to do with mindflayer invasions, hoax cults on the rise, ancient artefacts, or the goddamn goddess of magic herself.

Tara had looked forward to Gale taking a vacation from his stressful job of teaching young adults the wonders of illusion magic, so she could perch in his lap without him enduring overtime on writing original lesson material..

Gale was a stickler for details, much to the academy’s dismay.. He could not keep his word to give his class a beginner friendly course, so they saddled him with a class of chaotic mages instead. A challenge he gladly undertook, enjoying the opportunity to put his students in their place by threatening to blow himself up every now and then.

To his students' obliviousness, the orb was long gone. No more netherese influence for Gale. No more worries about blowing up the wrong place at the wrong time.

Unfortunately for Gale, his life had become chaotic still. Not because of orbs or goddesses, but because the quest to locate Tav in neverwinter had been much easier than he thought it would be.

He’d only just arrived at his holiday location and secured a place of stay when he came across a quirky little tavern tucked away in a very busy district of the city. Gale made a mental note to visit it, when he was stopped by a sending spell sent directly into his mind.

‘’Professor Dekarios. Urgent. Dharma’s gone missing. Think she went after you. Very worried. Please be lenient. Need the class. Send her home.’’

Twenty-two words, three short for a sending spell. But he recognised the voice of Dharma's mother. The woman had been dismissive of her daughter’s increasingly concerning demeanour towards him. If she was coming after him on his vacation, Gale could finally begin the procedure to ban her from his class formally…

With a flash of orange hair dye, she was right behind him, not moments later. He eyed the young woman trying to convey his disappointment by facial expression alone. He could lecture her of course, but she wasn’t worth his personal time nor his elaborate vocabulary. Learning from his past relationship alone, he opted to ignore her to see if she could take a hint.. But it simply invited her to follow him into the tavern.

After scolding Dharma with much needed help from the halfling tavern owner, Gale clapped eyes on a malnourished and gloomy looking Tav. They never spoke a word, but it kept him thinking. At first Gale thought Tav was pretending to not know him.. He looked depressed at most. Gale felt guilty.. But also suspicioned something else was going on.

The halfling was too excited for his repeated visits, and Tav’s quick glances were that of a complete stranger. Gale hoped Tav would call him out, tell him to leave. Yell at him for not coming after him.. For not helping him with whatever he appears to be going through.

Yet.. He never does. Never, even if he had every opportunity to do so as Gale kept visiting. Gale enjoyed his little vacation exploring books with Jilvy’s other customers during club hours. A means to pass the time.. To observe.

Tav’s body language did not change. Tav’s expression did not change. A moment had passed where he could’ve feigned a look of recognition, and Gale wanted to speak up, he simply couldn’t make himself do it. Tav never questioned his silent attempts to make conversation. Didn’t question him for staring. He kept working, never sitting still for too long unless he started feeling sick. And he was sick very often.

Finally, he concluded that Tav was experiencing some sort of memory loss. Unsure of the cause, he reflected to the last moment he saw his dear friend. The absent-minded glossed over eyes, apathetic and exhausted. The same look that he bears on his doll-like expression every single day nowadays.

What could’ve caused this? The trauma of the final fight? He recalls some debris hitting Tav’s head during the fall into the chiontar.. But shadowheart fixed him up before he suddenly walked off, so.. They’ve been through many battles and Tav always kept standing right back up leading the party through the fray bravely.

Gale searched his memories, pondering for some time.. Quickly he came to a stop. There simply was no way to be sure about Tav’s situation if he didn’t talk to Tav to begin with.

Observing him quietly was weird and doing so made Gale feel creeped out by himself.

He’d hoped to run into Jaheira, Shadowheart… Or anyone else really, to converse about the situation. No. It was time to take the matter into his own hands.

He had to confront Tav. To confront his guilt for abandoning him. Surely Tav would understand he had to rid himself of the orb? But.. Then he got a job as a professor and lost track of time..

Tav was an empathetic person, but also a survival-centred individual. He definitely would’ve understood it wasn’t personal.

This conversation had to happen regardless of how Gale felt about it. He owed it to Tav.

When he made it to the tavern, it was the closing hour. He’d hoped to pass a letter to Jilvy to request a private conversation with Tav in a safe environment outside of work. He wasn’t sure how Tav would take it if he really had amnesia.

Only.. The door was left wide open. Gale stared at it, sensing an arcane disturbance in the air. He turned his head to see Jilvy waltz up to him with suspicious eyes.

‘’What’s the meaning of this?’’ The halfling looked up, carrying a large bag of supplies over her shoulder. Her suspicion faded when she recognized the worry in Gale’s eyes and took note of the letter in his hand.

‘’I shouldn’t have taken too long..’’ Jilvy drops the bag into Gale’s arms forcefully as she inspects the door. One of the hinges had come loose and it was dangling from the spare.

‘’Tav is your lost friend, isn’t he?’’ Jilvy continued, looking for the door’s missing screws in the snow. ‘’You knew?’’ Gale’s eyebrows raised in surprise from Jilvy’s casual tone.

‘’I figured as much, the boy clearly has amnesia. And I assume you figured that out yourself as well?’’ She turned her head up to Gale with the recovered metals in her hands.

Gale didn’t answer her, he looked at the footsteps in the snow, noticing a disparity in pacing. He turned around to follow the pattern, recognizing fresh imprints. One was from someone who’d have jumped abnormally far, blowing snow out of the way while doing so.. The others were dragging their heels, moving with force, as if carrying something heavy that needed focus to maintain stability.

‘’A moment, miss Fogwater.’’ Gale handed back the bag of supplies to Jilvy as she watched him draw a few symbols by hand and mutter some incantations.

‘’vide magica.’’

The divination ritual spell takes hold, and Gale sees the traces of magic. Psionic, and very familiar.. One he had only rid himself off months ago. Netherse magic. Tav must’ve retained a semblance of his illithid abilities to make that forceful jump forward. The psionic energy lingered on the ground and the door..

The remainder of the arcane traces of weave he saw were much more worrying. A failed charm spell, and a disintegrate spell, unfired.

‘’This is bad.’’ Gale mumbled, Jilvy was about to ask him what he meant by that when Tav came running back out of breath. He nearly tripped over a pile of toppled snow when he saw the wizard with his boss.

‘’Tav! You’re back.. Oh dear. I’m sorry-’’ Jilvy puts her groceries down on the ground this time, not pausing to make sure it wouldn’t fall to its side.

Gale puts away the letter in his coat, silently watching the halfling comfort Tav as if he were a lost boy.

Tav, out of breath, barely able to speak, manages to stutter. ‘’T..The- Door..’’

‘’Dharma.’’ Gale can barely hear the name as it falls from his lips, only to see Tav shockingly look behind him, trying to find Dharma. He figured out she went after Tav because of his visits.. Tav’s reaction speaks volumes.

‘’Dharma who? She owes me a new door. The brat.’’ Jilvy continues patting Tav’s back as he’s trying to regain composure. ‘’I’m fine..’’ He mutters, walking over to grab her groceries for her, the halfling stops him midway. ‘’You’re not fine! You’re sweating rivers in the middle of a very cold winter evening!’’ She pulls his hands away and holds them together.

‘’Come, come, come inside. Tell me what happened.’’ She nods to Gale, suggesting he better join them.

Tav, nauseous from his experience, takes a moment to recuperate so Jilvy serves him a hot drink. Not tea, chocolate milk.

He takes a large gulp before he speaks his story, retelling from his weird night time experiences and hearing movements.. To the visit during closing hours and being pursued.

‘’Why didn’t you ask the guards for help? No- you would.. They’re.. Ugh, no matter! Those folks are too busy trying to catch a homicidal freak. Dharma owes me a door and food supplies!’’ Jilvy huffs. ‘’Has no one respect for small business owners these days?’’

Jilvy stops mid tantrum when she takes notice of Tav’s posture stiffening. ‘’And my dear employee, of course.’’ She puts her hand on his, trying to comfort him.. Tav’s stiffness does not let up. He lets out a nervous breath.

Gale raises his eyebrows at that. There’s a homicidal freak going around neverwinter? He’s only been here for little more than a week and he’s never heard of it. ‘’Homicidal freak..? I thought neverwinter was the most civilised place out there.. Well, I guess Volo doesn’t know the splendours of Waterdeep very well.’’ He jests, referencing a quote of one of Volo’s guides.

Then again.. There was some commotion in the town squares not too long ago. Perhaps he overlooked something, too busy with his vacation activities.

‘’Aye, red curved dagger. Attacked a wintershield guard during his off duties. Unusual, there’s posters of it drawn up everywhere.’’ Jilvy interrupts his thoughts.

The description, it just.. It just clicks. For Gale at least. A red curved dagger.. Unusual design, and the only likely culprit.. Tav may appear nervous on the outside from Dharma’s murder attempt, but he might in fact be hiding for committing a crime.. Whatever for?

Tav wasn’t someone who’d just lash out against authority figures on a whim. He was very particular about avoiding the flaming fist while they were trying to figure out how to get rid of the steel watch.

‘’I’ll make sure to write a lengthy report to the blackstaff academy, if you could.. Write a complaint I can add, seeing as your business was damaged in the drama of uh.. This student’s behaviour.’’ Gale swallows. ‘’If you could, keep it out of the wintershield’s hands, I aim to look for Dharma and have her sent off as soon as possible. This is my problem to begin with.’’ He searches his pockets for his wallet. ‘’And mine to fix..’’

‘’No, no.. I can’t just take your money, dear. I’ll write a lengthy report of expenses with my complaint.’’ Jilvy answers. ‘’I prefer earning it the normal way. Besides, Tav is a victim here as well. And.. You two need to talk.’’ She brushes gently against Tav’s arm, giving his hand another squeeze. ‘’Just yell my name if you need me, dear.’’ Then, she departs with the bag of groceries in hand, not before putting a curtain in place of the broken door.

The chill creeps in, Gale takes a sip of his cup of water, watching Tav’s absent-minded eyes for a moment. He can see him shiver.

‘’Do you remember me?’’ Gale asks, finally. And to his dismay, Tav’s eyes remain the same. He looks to him as if he’s a barely familiar stranger.

‘’You’re the wizard that’s here on vacation.. Gale, right?’’ Tav answers, he brushes his hand through his hair, fidgeting with his cup.

Gale tries to figure out if now is really the best time to break the news.. Tav is vulnerable, but he isn’t sure how vulnerable.

‘’Yes, that’s correct.’’ He pauses. ‘’And I came here, looking for you.’’ He looks into his water, avoiding eye contact.

Tav stammers a bit, he puts his cup down and avoids looking at Gale as well. ‘’A-ah..’’ The room grows quiet as more of the eerie wind outside creeps in.

‘’..Am I a bad person..?’’ Tav whispers.

‘’What..?’’

‘’..I.. Must be.. I keep seeing these flashes..’’

Gale isn’t sure how to answer that, but it does answer some of the riddles.. Tav’s amnesia is definitely traumatic. He should’ve known. The signs were all there.. The absent eyes, the apathy and gloom. His self-neglect, he isn’t acting like himself.

‘’I think I’m being punished.’’ Tav sobs, hiding his face in his hands. ‘’You came looking for me.. I don’t even know if I deserve it-’’ He wails softly, trying to hold back his cries and plants his face on the table.

Gale stands from his seat and sits beside him with his knees on the floor, pulling Tav from his position into a hug. ‘’You were a hero. At least to me.’’ He allows him to stain his coat with tears and mucus as Tav continues to cry in his confusion. When he calms down, he wipes the snot from his nose, looking uncomfortable from his own actions.

‘’I don’t even know who you are.’’

Gale gives him a gentle smile and grabs his hand, reassuring him. ‘’I’ll tell you all you want to know my friend.. But first, I need to take care of this Dharma problem. I endangered you necessarily.. This is my fault. You shouldn’t be..’’ Gale shakes his head. ‘’I’ll come back, make sure to stay with your boss, Jilvy, you’re safe here.’’

Tav looks confused by his words and gentleness, the wizard is determined to act and return as soon as possible so he could help Tav. To repay the favour.

It wasn’t too long ago Gale had spent days thinking of ending his own life.. And Tav was the one to tell him he deserved to live. And live he did.. Time is of the essence.

…

It wasn’t just Gale who was concerned with spending his time wisely. The next day, Astarion stumbled on towards the tavern, noticing the posters plastered all over the windows. As a Tiefling adventurer, he did look a little similar to his noble Elf self.. But only a keenly trained eye could notice the similarities. His curls were black and long, and so were his sclera dark and intimidating in this form. The red skin and ridges matched with glamoured armour did a lot for this disguise. Attractive on its own, he thinks.

He casually stood there, reading the advertisements the tavern owner had put up.. Something about a book club and a bookstore offering discounts for members.

He pondered for a moment if he should just knock on the door and act as an oblivious customer when a halfling popped the crooked door open and started chattering about the posters to him.

Astarion barely listened to her rambling when he turned around and smiled friendly.

‘’..And I suppose I could really hire someone to look after my employee.’’

Oh, damn. He really should’ve listened to what she was saying.

Given the context, this was Tav’s boss.. She likely heard of the attack yesterday and worried about him. A little odd, he thought. This halfling spends money to protect her lone employee..? A motherly look in her eyes softened his suspicious concerns for her reasoning.

But.. The door looked awfully damaged.. Perhaps she was just looking out for her business.. No, she could fire Tav from his job if she didn’t care for him.

What an opportunity!

‘’You want to hire me as a bouncer..? For your.. Tea tavern?’’ Astarion asked, making sure.

‘’Yes, that’s what I was getting at, you look like the opportune sort? Fancy the job? I don’t want my employee and customers to worry though.. So you could pretend to be a regular.’’ The halfling nodded, clearly happy with her idea.

‘’That makes sense.. I’m expensive though.’’ Astarion thought about it, he needed to look professional to make sure the woman didn’t get second thoughts. ‘’To be honest, I think I ran into your employee yesterday- he was being chased by a.. Mage. Asked me to pretend to be his boyfriend. Are you sure hiring me is a good idea?’’

‘’Hmm.’’ Jilvy eyed his tiefling form, thinking long and hard. Then she grins. ‘’If you give me a discount on hiring you, you eat for free.’’ This halfling.. He liked her attitude. ‘’Just don’t eat all my supplies, deal?’’

‘’I wouldn’t dream of it. My name is..’’ He paused, trying to think of a good tiefling name. He had to decide fast so hoped the name wasn’t too unusual for a tiefling. ‘’Morlock.. Grey.’’ He’d almost used Karlach’s last name, but that wouldn’t be good for cover. If his friends were around, they’d put one and two together.

‘’Your name means Black Grey? Huh. Parents weren’t the creative sort.’’ The halfling then realised her tone may have been a bit.. Offensive. ‘’Oh, sorry. That was unprofessional. I am Jilvy fogwater.’’

‘’Hah! I’m a tiefling Ma’am. I don’t need to explain my.. Past, obviously.. It’s not the pleasant kind, all too common for someone growing up with horns and a tail.’’ He figured that she wouldn’t ask more, considering how he remembers the elturel tiefling refugees being treated by their surroundings. All tieflings experience some sort of discrimination. Many aren’t even born to tiefling parents..

Jilvy grows a sympathetic look, she stares at the ground for a moment. ‘’Well, nice to meet you, Morlock.’’

‘’Let's talk business, how many hours per day? How much? Will I be paid weekly or per hours?’’

‘’I knew I liked you from the moment I saw you, Morlock.’’

‘’Likewise.. Mrs fogwater.’’

He follows her into the tavern, partially listening to Jilvy pretending that he’s signing up for the book club and discussing the latest hot novella gossip.

He’s only been there barely three seconds when his eyes meet with Tav again. He doesn’t seem too surprised, just put off by a familiar face with a raised brow. Then, without a worry in the world he continues checking on his baked goods.. Working efficiently and unbothered by Astarion’s presence..

To him, there wasn’t Astarion though.. There was Morlock, the tiefling adventurer who’d saved him the day before.

‘’Aye, Tav, come here for a sec. I heard you met Morlock?’’ Jilvy chimes in, it's almost as if she read Astarion’s mind.

‘’Oh, yeah- I didn’t catch your name…B-before.. Hi.’’ He looks flustered. If only for a little bit, the glazed-over doll eyes disappear. There is a light in the darkness.

Even in this disguise, Astarion has some hold over him. Not that he can tell it’s Astarion though.. Which is the point.

But, that aside.. Astarion feels a little jealous at the looks he’s giving to Morlock.

So.. His plot thickens, while he schemes to create the perfect scenario to get Tav back in his arms, as soon as possible.

#ascended astarion x male reader #ascended astarion x male tav #ascended astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 #bg3 tav #ascended astarion x m! reader #ascended astarion x m! tav #ascended astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #long fic

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hunnythebee · 2 years

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Stow Away

Chapter 3: Hiding in Plain Sight

A tense day on Nevarro followed by an evening with a different kind of tension. Is she crossing a line or is he?

Warnings: NSFW, NSFT, mentions of trauma, PTSD, crying, cursing, voyeurism, masturbation

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Masterlist

A/N: So I changed up a few things in this chapter. First, it explores third person omniscient territory, giving us a glimpse into our Mando's thoughts as well as the MC. From here on out I intend to include more glimpses into his mind and emotions as well.

Second, finally diving into some smut. I'm excited for that, but I am also a complete plot-whore so it's definitely going to be plot with porn.

And last but not least, I have officially given the MC a name. I hadn't intended on naming her, but I couldn't help it, it just kind of happened.

Hope you enjoy and I look for to seeing you all next week for chapter 4!

It had been awhile since he left. He took the kid with him so she has the whole ship to herself. She searched around for a good hiding spot, which there really weren’t any. Then she had a brilliant idea. She rooted around in her sack and pulled out her hooded cowl and engineer goggles.

Perfect.

She removed a panel on the outside of the Crest and began to do idle busy work. She tucked her hair completely into the hood and pulled the mask up, with the goggles covering the remaining exposed portion of her face no distinguishable features were left visible. She was deep in the panel when two bounty hunters approached the ship.

“What’re you doing here?” The taller one asked, resting a hand on his blaster.

“Workin',” she kept her words short. “You?”

He laughed gruffly, “Workin’”

The two men boarded the Crest. Her hand was violently shaking, but she hid it by throwing them back into work. The two reappeared a minute later, with the carbonite slabs floating gracefully between them.

“Enjoy your 'work' little lady,” the other said, his voice making her skin crawl.

She swallowed hard and nodded to them. The nod made a small strand of hair peek out from the hood. Her hair was truly her most recognizable feature, it was colored to look like a nabooian sunset, a gradient from purple to orange. The small strand was a blaring siren, begging to be noticed, but lucky for her they’re backs were already turned to her. She quickly tucked the strand back in and shoved her head into the ship compartment. Once their gravelly footsteps receded, she hustled back onto the ship and closed the ramp behind her. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she crumpled to the cold floor, allowing her emotions to pour out. A sob echoed through the quiet hull. She let her tears flow. Mando didn’t remind her of him. But those men, those hunters did. After the tears slowed she took a few deep breaths. Just in time too, because the gangplank lowered, and the Mandalorian boarded the ship. She wiped away at her eyes, hoping her breakdown wasn’t too apparent on her face.

It was.

Mando noticed immediately. Her nose was pink, her eyes were swollen and red. Her cheeks still had faint tear stains on them. He felt a protectiveness come over him. He wanted to ask who had done this to her. He wanted to make them pay. More than anything he wanted to pull her in and make her feel okay. All of this ran through his head as he simply stood there, staring at her.

She can never know. He warned himself.

“H–How’d it go?” She asked, wanting to break the silence.

“The usual.” His voice sounded so distant. Realistically, he was just lost in thought.

“The…usual?” she questioned.

“Got my payment. Got more bounties.”

“Ah. The usual. Got it.” She began to walk towards her cot, but he stopped her in her tracks with his next words.

“I brought food.”

“You… brought food?” She echoed.

He silently held up a satchel, burstin with assorted produce and meats.

“You brought food.” She said once more, feeling a sense of safety nudge at her heart.

He handed her the satchel, and she examined it closely.

“Hmm… I know exactly what to make from this,” and she left for the galley. He remained cemented to the spot. Silently swearing to himself to learn why she had been crying and to never let it happen again.

A few hours later, they were in orbit of Nevarro and she was putting the finishing touches on a roast. They hadn’t spoken since he had given her the food, she had plunged herself into cooking. It was mostly an attempt to recover from the flashbacks of earlier, and it mostly worked.

She shouted out of the galley up at the cockpit, “Food’s ready! Come get it while it’s hot!”

She fixed the three of them plates, and set one plate down at the spot he usually sat in. She and Grogu took the seat that they had been in before, their backs to the seat he would take. Grogu was already finished by the time she heard Mando’s boots hit the floor. She had, unwittingly, waited for him to start eating. She heard his helmet depressurize and she started to eat her meal with him. She nearly choked when she heard a sound from where the Mandalorian sat. He had taken a bite and moaned. He kriffing moaned, and it made her freeze completely. She couldn’t see it, but he had frozen too. Shocked by his own involuntary noise. He knew she had heard it, because he heard her gag on her food. Heat crossed his face and he was never more thankful for the Creed than in that moment.

They ate the remainder of the food in complete silence. He collected the plates when they were finished, and she put the now sleeping child to bed. She was closing the crib when he reappeared. His visor was fixed on her and it sent a shiver through her body.

“I liked it.” He spoke abruptly.

“Hmm?” She asked as she slumped back down into her seat.

“The food. I liked it.”

“I bet.” The tease slipped out before she could process what she was saying. Her whole body tensed.

“What was that?” He asked, taking a step toward her.

She stood and moved backward, “N–nothing. I’m glad you liked it.” The nerves caused her voice to quiver slightly.

He stalked closer. “That’s not what you said.”

She tried to turn, wanting to hide in the 'fresher, but his hand snatched her wrist and pulled her to the wall. Pinning her between him and the cool durasteel. Her heart was thundering in her ears. She should have felt scared but this was different. Less threatening. Probably because he wasn’t holding a blaster to her this time.

“What. Did. You. Say.” He was impossibly close now. He smelled like her blanket.

No… she thought, the blanket smells like him.

She steadied herself for a moment and committed to the teasing.

“I said, ‘I bet.’ As in I bet you liked my cooking. At least it sure sounded like you were enjoying it.”

He hovered for a moment. He was contemplating something. She assumed he was debating whether to smack her for taunting him or not. In reality he was contemplating her. Her body. Her face. How good she would feel when he–

Stop!

His internal voice screamed. And he finally released her, quickly leaving for his bunk. The door hissed shut behind him before she even had a chance to move. She slid to the floor. She was dazed and confused by the bizarre interaction that had just occured between her and the Mandalorian. He didn't seem angry. In fact he had seemed... Excited. A heat settled low in her body, which she elected to ignore.

That's absurd. No way was that what had been happening.

She shook the thoughts out of her head and finally stood up from the floor. She still wanted to shower before bed. The scent of ash and smoke was clinging to her hair and she craved the scent of the soap. She didn't take long, focusing mainly on her hair. She stepped out into the hull and the quiet was deafening. All she could hear was the soft breathing of the child on the other side and... She froze.

She heard a moan. Before tonight she wouldn't have been able to place it but now she knew exactly what she was hearing. She was planted to the spot. Not moving. Not breathing.

Another moan ripped through the quiet.

Her eyes found his door, lit dimly by the light of the refresher. The warmth she had felt earlier returned, this time it was less bearable. Her body moved without her willing it to, and she found herself in front of his door. She wasn't sure what she was doing there. This was a private moment. An intimate moment she wasn't supposed to bear witness to, yet she couldn't keep herself from listening. She chewed her lip for a moment and wrestled with herself internally.

After a moment of contemplation, she pressed her ear to the door. She wanted to hear more. His moans were hot and it had been so long since she had been a part of anyone's pleasure, so she indulged.

The moaning was expected, as were the whispered curses. What she hadn't expected was what he groaned out as his orgasm slammed into him.

"Jomira..."

She stumbled back. That was her name. He was moaning her name. Her heart raced as she rushed back to her cot and quickly climbed under the covers. His voice echoed in her mind.

Impossible. I just imagined it. That's all. Still...

She pressed her thighs together. Her arousal had reached a fever pitch and it was becoming a problem. She reached over and shut the child's crib. Then she slipped her hand below her waist band. She was soaked. Her pussy. Her thighs. Imagined or not, he had an effect on her that she could not deny.

She pressed her middle finger to her swollen bundle, working it in slow, precise circles. She whimpered quietly and covered her mouth quickly with her free hand. She continued working herself closer to release. She could feel it, she was on the precipice. Just as it poured over her the door to the Mandalorian's bunk slid open. She jumped, throwing the hand that had been covering her mouth over her eyes, burying her face in her elbow. The hand that had been working so desperately for her release was trapped between her legs. Her orgasm made her throb against her fingers, the ruined release causing her cunt to clench and spasm.

Neither she nor Mando moved. She took a deep, slow breath, feigning sleep. She prayed to the Maker that he hadn't seen her, that he would just assume she was asleep and leave. After another beat, she heard his boots move. They ascended the ladder, followed by the cockpit door hissing open and then shut.

She let out a sigh and removed her arm from her eyes and her hand from her pants. Her heart rate slowed finally, and her eyes began to feel heavy. Sleep fell heavy onto her body and she knocked out quickly. She dreamt of him that night.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Masterlist

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jolynej · 3 years

Text

I’m Not in Love

Summary: You and Prosciutto, both determined to keep things casual, are sent out on a mission to eliminate a target, but something goes wrong and you end up hurt, forcing Prosciutto to come to terms with his feelings

A/N: I started this weeks ago, but have been so busy that I haven’t had time to properly finish it until now! I’m a very slow writer, and I struggle with creating longer fics that exceed 1k words, so this was a huge labor of love! I hope that y’all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Warnings: heavily implied nsft, violence, guns, minor character death, blood, Prosciutto being a bit of an asshole, fainting

You both told each other when you made this arrangement that it was strictly physical and that you were only doing this out of convenience and carnal desire. Sure, he’s very attractive, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about lingering in bed and pretending that you’re still asleep if only to savor his body heat and the weight of his arm across your torso for a few more minutes. But you couldn’t possibly cross that line.

The lives that both you led didn’t allow for the luxury of developing and maintaining romantic — or any, really — relationships that were outside of your work. You’d lost friends and family members to the steady passage of time and lack of communication. It came with the territory of the job, and though you’d tried to justify your drifting relationships by assuring yourself that it was done to protect those you used to hold close, you knew that was just an excuse you told yourself so that you could sleep at night.

The initial adjustment to your new job was tough in that aspect, but Prosciutto, aside from being your mentor, slowly became a comfort and a confidant for your bouts of anxiety and late night regrets of leaving your old life behind. You’d joined him outside at night on the balcony of the hideout plenty of times. He would self-soothe with cigarettes, exhaling out his demons in the shape of a puff of smoke whilst he listened to you reminisce on your happier, less bloody days.

“It’s a damn shame you’re so good at you job,” he’d told you one particular night, when the orange and white city lights below cast a bright glow over his sharp features; yet simultaneously, it accentuated the dark circles under his eyes, and the shadows beneath those jagged angles of his cheekbones and jawline made him look far older than he was. Prosciutto looked beautiful as he did horrible.

You just shook your head and smirked, inquiring, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Kid, there were many different paths that you could’ve picked from,” He stops briefly to take a drag of his cigarette. “But this is what you opted for.” The blond flicked his cigarette and snuffed it with the toe of his oxfords, answering with, “All I’m saying is that you had your whole life ahead of you, and instead of getting a normal, decent job, you decided that this was worth the Louboutins and those diamond earrings of yours.”

“It’s good that it ended up working out for you.”

His compliments were usually pretty backhanded, but you could tell that this wasn’t just because of his usual condescending behavior. He seemed almost... sad and guilty, but then again, it could just be from the shadows on his face exaggerating his features.

“I’m glad you’re damn good at your job, too,” you remarked, leaning against the railing, savoring in the feeling of the warm, summer night wind caressing your face.

Soon, you found the touch against your cheeks was replaced by his calloused fingers and then his lips, giving birth to a routine that would continue every-so-often: you’d join him outside at night and would wake up in bed next to him in a tangle of limbs and satin sheets.

Maybe it was only natural that you and him would end up growing closer and more intimate.

—

This little arrangement between the two of you continues, and with each time you bare yourself to him, you struggle with your developing feelings. After you had slept together that first night — before you had a real chance to give yourself a proper chance to evaluate your own feelings — he assured you that the prior night’s events had meant nothing to him, that it was a mistake. He apologized, confessing that the rendezvous had stemmed from a place of pent up arousal and convenience and that it wouldn’t happen again.

That’s what he’d said the second, and third, time too. But by the fourth time, you’d both decided to become ‘coworkers with benefits’ as you’d so eloquently put it. It’s purely out of physical need and mutual trust and nothing else. There’s no time for romance.

—

The following spring, you were sent out together to a job on the coast, and were given a shared room at a hotel near the warehouse where your target was supposedly going to be tonight. The assignment had worked in your favor, you’d both arrive mid-morning, have time to scout out the location, go back to the room for a quick fuck, then proceed to the location, clean up, and spend the night between the sheets until you both passed out from sheer exhaustion.

“The target should be on location this evening,” he informs you casually as he’s sliding on his trousers, as if he hadn’t just fucked you into the mattress. He gives his watch a quick glance before speaking again. “Which gives us approximately an hour before we need to head out.”

You nod, reaching for your clothes — his hand stops you, grasping your wrist. “Let me clean you up first,” he says, briefly locking eyes with you, before averting his gaze just as quickly. “If you’re going out you should at least be comfortable.”

While Prosciutto walks off to the bathroom to retrieve a glass of water and a washcloth, you look down at your naked body. Your combined releases dribble down your thighs, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the sticky, wet sensation on your lower body.

He’s back approximately a minute later, the glass is set upon the nightstand, and he’s kneeling, still shirtless, at your feet with the wet washcloth in hand. He cleans you up in relative silence, and the intimacy and vulnerability in this situation is not lost on either of you. It hangs around like a heavy fog that both of you desperately try to ignore, hoping that it’ll dissipate.

Under different circumstances, you’d love to be able to cradle his chin in your hand and confess every single romantic thought that you’d ever held for him, and in turn, he’d press tender kisses up your thighs, and trade the rag for his tongue, cleaning you up with a few slow licks. Instead, you give him a curt, ‘thank you’ and get dressed.

Your little trysts were littered with subtle, more domestic moments like this one where you wanted to push the boundary between what is and isn’t appropriate when you’re in a friends-with-benefits situation with your coworker. Even without the romance that you so desperately craved, there was still a strong sense of intimacy and familiarity with each ‘Was I too rough?’ or ‘You can sleep in here tonight’ that could only stem from a certain level of trust and comfort.

The rest of the time leading up to your assignment was spent going over your plan of attack and working out any loose ends or confusion on either side, and as he spoke, you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to travel down to his plush lips and the exposed patch of skin from his half-buttoned blouse that, when he shifted at a certain angle, allowed for you to catch a glimpse of a dark red bruise where your lips had been.

You were passing the threshold, the imaginary line. You’d stepped on it, gotten it stuck to your feet, and try as you may to deny its presence and scrub it clean from your skin — you could scrub it raw, until you bled — it wasn’t something you could erase.

As he’s stepping out of the hotel room, you glance back to ask him if he’s ready, but you’re caught off guard by the buttons of his shirt. They’re all closed completely save for a lone button rendering the bruise no longer visible. Inquisitively, the blond quirks up an eyebrow, silently asking if there’s a problem.

“I’m just ready to get this over with,” you sigh, matching your stride with his as you both exit the hotel and journey to the warehouse.

The target doesn’t show as planned, much to your and Prosciutto's dismay and annoyance. You had both searched the large building and its surroundings as thoroughly as possible but still the target hasn’t made an appearance. There aren’t even any hidden clues as to where he’s run off to. As pissed as you both felt in that moment — you were cursing to yourself and your partner was leaning against a metal structure with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth — Risotto was going to be absolutely furious.

Unlike most contracts where you were paid after the deed or half before and half after, the client had paid a hefty sum up front and with a dark leer he was insistent that the job be completed as soon as possible. Something deep within you knew that he would not be the type of man whose bad side you’d like to be on.

Defeated and angry, you both decided to bite the bullet and head back to the hotel to inform your superior of the unfortunate situation. Just outside of the hotel, Prosciutto glances over at a payphone on the street corner.

“Go on inside and shower and eat, kid, I’ll talk to Risotto.”

“Are you sure? We can speak to him together, or I can just sp—“ He cut you off with a hand patting your cheek, gently thumbing your skin. He was stressed and so were you.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” he manages a tiny half-smile. “I’ve got it.”

Yeah, you are stressed as all hell, but at least you didn’t have to be at the receiving end of Risotto’s wrath — for tonight anyway. Thinking about Prosciutto opting to do so in your stead and acting out of concern for you sends a cacophony of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. He has always looked out for you ever since you’d joined, but this was something more than just him looking out for a junior member of his team. There was no way that he’d touch Formaggio or even Pesci like that, with such a pure tenderness that leaves your skin tingling from where his fingers were.

Making your way up the stairs to your shared room, the sensation of butterflies immediately flees from your stomach and instead, an eerie, insidious feeling begins to tiptoe up your spine, and you get the sense that something is very, very wrong.

One of the hall lights has gone out, and the other is flickering in random spasms as it emits a faint buzz. With each step towards your door, the broken light fixture seems to dim and buzz louder until it makes one final loud screech and dies completely the moment that you touch the door handle, and as soon as your fingers gripped the metal handle, an overpowering jolt of electricity fizzles throughout your entire body, sending you doubling over in pain, desperately croaking out for your stand as you fall to the dingy carpet.

The world around you seemed to morph into blackness and little snippets of sounds — you weren’t sure if you were still awake or if you’d lost consciousness — but you clung onto what you could decipher to the best of your ability. Static, the plodding footfall of someone running on carpet with urgency, the unmistakable click of a gun, a heavy thud, then silence.

You crane your head and espy a familiar pair of oxfords, and with a sigh of relief you feel your eyes grow heavy.

—

You come-to in the backseat of a car, and if it weren’t for the intensity of the events before you passed out, you would’ve happily shut your eyes to the steady thrum of the car speeding down the road. A bubble of panic rises up your throat, throwing your senses in overdrive as you carefully assess your surroundings. You find that a suit jacket has been draped over you like a makeshift blanket, and the familiar scent of cologne, tobacco, and cigarette-smoke is an instant relief.

Looking up, you find Prosciutto is in the driver’s seat of the car with a plain, white tank top in the place of his button-up. The bones of his knuckles are prominent due to the strain and force of his grip on the steering wheel, and they’re dotted with specks of red that extend up to his forearms.

There’s an evident scowl on his lips, which are scabbed and bloody from worrying teeth marks and not from — what you can safely assume given the sound you’d heard earlier — a gunshot to the man that had been in your hotel room.

“The target was dealt with,” he says upon seeing you awake, and he disguises it with a cough, but his entire face softens with a relieved sigh. The visible tension in his bulging veins on his forearms eases along with the death-grip that he has on the steering wheel; Prosciutto settles one hand on his thigh, splaying his fingers out on the fabric of his trousers, feeling for something in his pocket — cigarettes most likely. He’s still antsy and tense, alternating between his hands on the wheel to search his other pocket.

You have a myriad of questions wreaking havoc on your brain, which is still a bit fuzzy from the electricity and has brought on a dull headache. With the blazer clenched tightly to your chest, you fiddle around until you find a pack of his smokes and pull them out, holding them in the air with a dopey, lopsided grin that says ‘lookee here!’. It earns a playful eye roll and a smirk from Prosciutto who brings his hand back to take them from you.

When you offer the box up, your fingers brush, and you swear that he leaves his hand extended towards you a moment longer than necessary. The sensation sends a full-body chill through your veins.

“Put the coat on, kid, I don’t want you freezing up and getting sick in the car.” He’s staring straight out at the road, but you know the sentiment is there, beneath the layer of sweat and blood there’s worry. “Go back to sleep,” he orders in that gravelly, stern but caring tone of his that he uses on you when he gives you orders, and only you. In a way, it’s not that much different from how he talks in bed, and the familiarity has you warm all over. God, you’re in love with this man.

“I’ll wake you up in about an or two, capisce?”

—

You’re awoken by Prosciutto opening the door of the backseat and calling your name. You can barely see him, he’s almost a dark, looming figure in the night. The sky in the countryside is worlds away from the city skyline that you’re accustomed to. Behind him, there’s a sea of twinkling stars, and the bright crescent moon hangs proudly behind his head like a half-halo, and he appears to you like a fallen angel, still clinging on desperately to something good and holy that someone like him does not deserve. In his right hand, he holds a shovel, and his arms and face and tank top are caked in the weight of his sins, blood and dirt and sweat; you surmise that the closer you get to him, the less the moon resembles a halo and moreso a pair of horns. Again, the night is playing tricks on you.

“I’ve buried the remains,” he explains. “I decided it would be easiest to just take care of it myself until we can get you checked out. We don’t know the full extent of the damage that you’ve received or what effects that my stand could have on you in this state.” It’s a poor excuse, and you both know it, but it’s easier for him to lie to you when his facial expressions are harder to see.

Still, you don’t know if it’s from the adrenaline in your blood, your feelings for him, or some leftover electricity that’s done something to your brain, but you decide to call him out.

Sitting upright, you say, “I still could’ve helped, Prosci, otherwise there would be no point for me to come on this mission with you. You’ve done more than enough to help me, and I… I really appreciate everything that you’ve done to help me, but I have to work to earn my share of the payment!

“I can’t just lie back and let you treat me like some doll or damsel in distress!” You spout, wadding up his blazer and tossing it at him. He catches it with a growl, and the shovel clatters to the ground with a resounding clang.

He’s crawling across the backseat, hovering over you like a mangy beast; truthfully, you don’t think that you’ve ever seen him look so unhinged and disheveled. His scent bears no resemblance to the comforting aroma of his suit-jacket, and instead, he emits a pungent odor of grime and sweat, evident by the damp, dirty stray pieces of hair that encircle his face and the thin layer of earth that stains his skin with splotches of gray and brown. He looks like he can hurt you, and for a second you make the mistake of thinking that he will.

“Kid, you need to listen to me! I—“ he huffs, but upon seeing your face up close, all scared and doe-like, he kisses you. It’s emotional and hurried and needy and far unlike any previous kiss that you’d shared. It’s not spurred on by wanting or lust but by love and a great fear of loss.

“I love you,” he whispers like a gasp when he pulls apart from you. “I love you,” he says once more, softer, sweeter. “I love you.”

In his eyes, you can see every word that he leaves unsaid, his confession of how afraid he was that he’d never see you again, how he panicked and saw red and shot the man on sight, how he carried you to the car with a metaphorical knife stabbing at his heart, and how he almost cried from relief when he saw you open your eyes.

“I love you, too,” you say back, smiling, kissing him again with that same passion as before.

#prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #tumblr formats things so weirdly!#jjba #my fics

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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years

Text

Claudette Sandwich

Commission for someone who would like to be left anonymous. The basic idea was Huntress and the Plague making a Claudette sandwich and having a sorta silent war over her. And oh, don’t we all wish to be adored by two massive lady killers with kissable faces?

Summary: In which the Entity is tired of its killers and survivors not taking its games seriously and gives them a break. A break in which many survivors use to go fuck their respective lovers. Claudette takes this time to spend with her two favorite women.

Reblogs > Likes. Please Reblogs if you hit Like! :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked on sight!!!

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Relationship: Claudette/Huntress and Claudette/Plague

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Both Claudette and Huntress are trans women with lingo being cock/dick, Claudette has autism and there are notes of it, Mentions of taking E and the side effects that come with it, possessiveness, outside sex, but for the most part p tame! No ‘out there’ kinks here!

Words: 4.2k

___________________

Each trial was made just right, just so, just enough to be a challenge and to provide the Entity with what it wanted. Bloodshed , fear, screams, anything to feed its sadistic desires.

When it came down to it, the survivors were getting better at surviving, and the killers were losing their patience. The void and stretch between the two separate teams of pawns in the Entity’s never-ending game were starting to get tired. Some survivors would mock its killers, and the killers would equally taunt back- neither hitting the other.

Well, the Entity supposed a game was only fun with variety and breaks, were they not? All of their pawns had been mortals at some point with...feelings- the spidery creature could gag at the very thought. Feelings.

How unfortunate.

~Rest under the cut~

It’s not as if it does not notice how its killers play the game either. As long as they bring a necessary amount of sacrifices and play the game in a way involving blood and screams, the Entity is normally pleased. No, recently, its killers have gotten...attached to certain survivors. Not in the fun way of obsessions like The Shape, The Nightmare, or the Demogorgon had, where their paired survivors were in their blood to hunt down first.

No, examples being like how The Trapper would never miss anyone, and yet Meg Thomas always just barely escaped his clutches. And if she WAS in his clutches, somehow, she’d always escape. How curious, the Entity had thought, until it had watched closer as she taunted the big beast and went so far as to pull up her top and flash him and leave its most skilled predator at a loss of what to do.

No. No, no, no, these games would need a break just like any other game.

So, what’s an all-seeing Entity to do?

It sneaks into the survivors’ dreams to let them know what the new rules are. It requests a council from its very own group of killers to explain the circumstances without letting them know who it had seen becoming ‘merciful’ to who. However its killers played their game and got their own satisfaction was their own interests.

The situation was simple. Survivors and killers would be allowed to mingle for two weeks, and then the games would begin again.

And oh, how did the Entity love the thought of the inevitably delicious taste of agony and betrayal when they would become friendly, only to realize in the upcoming matches they would be downed by the very hand they held. Whether out of duty, or the thrill of the kill.

What it can feel currently, however, is the joy coming off specific survivors in their dreams when it alerts them to the changes.

Sweet little Claudette had always been a favorite of the Entity’s. She had come into this world meek and kind, and still was ever so kind, even when she bared her teeth and held her ground against killers. How kind, she was, standing in the way of a hit to rescue her fellow survivors. Or take the last few daring seconds to finish a generator, just to buy her team some time. Always there to be the optimistic sunshine in the time of fog and gloom.

So kind, and so idiotic, if you asked the Entity.

Yet, it seems her kind, sweet nature had gathered the attention of two of its killers.

The Huntress was a woman that the Entity adored for her simplicity. Her own agony in inability to carry child had been delicious all on her own, then the desire, the hunger to kill anyone who stood in her way. And yet, she found some sort of requiem in Claudette. Somewhere where her mortality and morals lie. Claudette brought something out in her that was protective and...human.

Claudette liked to explain various herbs and insects to Anna, holding a book she had gotten in reward for escaping one day. She holds it up high for the taller woman who points at the pictures and then to her mouth to ask if they are edible. In small ways they bond in the small moments when they are not running away or at each other. In these small ways, they grow to adore each other.

And a newer killer, yet still old enough to not be considered a new addition; The Plague. Oh, how her agony was worn on her cheek for all to see. The acts of killing were acts of devotion in her eyes- the Entity her new god to appease and to serve. She had no Disciples to guide, no need for her selflessness from the past. She devoted herself into each kill and looked to the Entity like a god from her realm and served it as such.

Yet with Claudette, the kind survivor had held her hands as if they had not been scarred. Kissing each fingertip with murmured words of sweetness that had left Adiris speechless and shy. A new look for her, since the devotion became more interesting whispers as she was on her knees. Words that others may not know the tongue of, but to a god of many voices, the Entity could make out the...love.

It could gag.

But truly, was the Entity not the god of this realm? In the end, it didn’t matter who thought what, as long as they all played the game and gave the Entity what it always wanted. Who was it to matter if a god played a role here?

As always, it would keep playing its game. For now, the Entity lets its presence stop overwhelming the surrounding area of the survivor’s camp. Paths lead into the forest all around, marked with wooden signs stating the area it would lead as well as a dirt or cobblestone path leading in that direction.

There is no sun to be provided, the overhead still dark and clouded with a full moon serving for most of the light. Fireflies blossom in surrounding areas, orange rather than their normal yellow glow.

At first, most survivors are wary. Claudette can’t blame Nancy and Steve for not being too thrilled to move from their cabin, nor Laurie or Quentin for avoiding the areas marked with familiar realms that make their skin crawl. She could almost laugh at the eagerness from Nea and Jake, however, both eagerly talking of the Wraith as if he were some shared boyfriend that they were gossiping about.

It almost felt normal.

Almost.

The first day, Claudette finds herself wandering into the woods through a split path. The Red Forest splitting into a grounded area, wet, muddy area with a wooden path leading there. Small flowers sprout from the wooden planks beneath her feet, the pleasant aroma being revealed of the forest that never seemed to stop sprinkling small amounts of rain. The heavy treetops overhead almost acted like their very own light, filtering deep blues through the area.

Anna is a territorial woman; It is no surprise for her to find Claudette before the survivor can find her. There’s a quietness that edges between them, a good few feet of distance as Claudette waits patiently where she’s at, shuffling her feet a bit.

Claudette was not a person who spoke very many words. She found it hard to get it out, preferring to delve into books and be in her own little world. Bugs, botany, rocks- those she could talk about for hours, hands fidgeting as she could show and tell without Anna being upset. Anna thought it was interesting how she could go from not saying a word to suddenly exploding over her interests. It was cute.

So, Claudette does not speak, merely letting her shoulders fall from their tight position and taking a step forward just as Anna’s arms outstretch and bring her into her arms. Their height difference makes Claudette nestle against her breast, smiling in a way that makes the killer’s heart stutter and a warm smile to find her scarred lips.

Anna makes love to her that day, in her very own home. Strong body framing Claudette who had held her arms around her neck and pulled her closer with the softest of sounds from her throat. There are soft murmurs from Anna that Claudette does not understand. She kisses over her neck, brushing Claudette’s curls from her sweaty, warmed face and watching her get overwhelmed with each and every thrust into her smaller frame.

Claudette can’t meet her eyes- eye contact was a big no. Nor did she seem to enjoy the stimulus of kissing when Anna was inside her. So, they compromise. With Anna’s forehead to hers, both sets of eyes closed, and Claudette’s hands pawing at her back or one clutching the back of her head to draw her closer.

It made them feel more alive than either had been in what felt like ages.

The following day, after a day well spent with Anna and explaining to her quietly that Claudette would be seeing Adiris tomorrow, Claudette makes her way towards the path of the Red Forest again, the next pathway seeming to be made of fallen stones set firmly into the ground. It led a path to an open forested area as well, but instead of a warmed cabin, there was a temple. Broken down from age and time, moss growing along its walls and left-over religious memorabilia scattered.

Adiris is a calm and quiet woman. Her way of caring and speaking was soft spoken and gentle, English heavily accented with each word and one of the languages she struggled with. That was fine by Claudette, who wasn’t very verbal herself- whether that was from lack of wanting to speak or the killer stutter she got on single syllables was up to anyone.

Though it did amuse her on end how Adiris seemed so stoic, yet the simplest hand on her cheek or a hand on her own would make the firmer flesh of her face flush red. Stoic, yet so easy to fluster.

Adiris was a beauty that was different than the woman who ran in a rabbit mask. She was slightly taller than The Huntress, but certainly not even comparing in physique. Her physique was leaner and willowy with a soft, curving flare out of her hips. It made her entire sense of self seem like a walking goddess. Her face she preferred to hide with her headdresses- kissing was always a nervousness of her own.

Claudette supposes that’s who she was before all this- or a loud devotee. But, now, she takes to sitting with Adiris and tracing the scarring on the backs of her hands. Mummified was a good word for how her skin was, almost scabbed up and burned. Yet, Claudette touches her just as she would anyone else with utmost care.

Now, Adiris finds herself sitting with her knees off to the side, propping her side up on a rock as well with her arm. She lets Claudette sit in front of her, the girl on her knees as well and finding her palm resting on Adiris’ warmed cheek. There are no words to share, but Claudette still lets her eyes flicker to Adiris’ to get the message across.

The first kiss is gentle. Adiris feels herself squirm to sit up fully on her knees to match, height overtaking as her shaking fingers gingerly cup Claudette’s cheeks warmly. The softness of her lips is supple against Adiris’ scarred ones. They can only peck, the headdress’ sharp edges coming down into two slots over her lips, but they still find ways to touch. With Claudette’s cheek against her own, feeling the warmth of her skin, able to inhale the earthy scent of her- it's almost too much for Adiris.

In a moment where both parties both desire the other and both are too shy to proceed, one has to make the next move. It’s not as if Adiris’ religion had been surrounded by purity- no, polytheist was the ideology around it with multiple gods. It was not her religion that stopped her, but her own fears. She’d seen her followers naked, when they bathed in the communal rivers- but seeing someone INTIMIATELY naked would be new. Let alone...herself being bare before another.

“Please,” Claudette murmurs so quiet against Adiris’ cheek she hardly hears it. There’s a moment’s hesitation, the shaky breath exhaling from Claudette as her warm hands brush down Adiris’ shoulders just as Adiris’ own arms slide around her neck to hold her closer. “Let me to-touch- touch you?”

It must be hard for her to ask, a woman of few words, and even then, it’s a forward question. But, Adiris would expect nothing less of someone more interested in sciences. Her words fail her, so she nods, lying herself back on the grass floor as if she were to be her lover’s offering underneath the full moon. The forest’s winds shaking the treetops gently and creating a soft ambiance that would leave a blushing maiden breathless.

If this were perhaps the mortal realm, perhaps Adiris would feel the need to be more modest.

Claudette is almost methodical in her touching. She strokes over the flesh of her thighs, sitting between Adiris’ legs and warming her up. It must look ridiculous for such a smaller woman to kneel between her thighs, but Adiris can’t help the breath that leaves her when Claudette’s hands climb. Skirting over the swell of her hips, up her slender frame and to her breasts. Her clothing is loose, easy to push down her shoulders with curious fingers dipping into the fabric of her tunic and gently pulling it down.

Her breasts are smaller and not as perky as someone with a bra might have had- as bras were way after her time. But Claudette doesn’t mind, even when one has scarring edging the outskirts.

Adiris’ nipples are a dusty color, perked and easy to brush her thumbs over. Claudette should have expected her sensitivity, but the gasp makes her freeze, only spurred on when she looks up and sees Adris has raised a hand to cover her mouth and her burning face.

More brazen at the situation, Claudette allows herself to lie overtop her, sealing her lips over a bud and suckling. The reaction is instant, slender hips coming up into her own and making Claudette hum softly in appreciation. Adiris’ other hand comes to rest on Claudette’s hair, pressing gently as if to urge her to continue.

When Claudette switches and raises her hand to squeeze at the now neglected breast, Adris lets out such a soft sound, her hips coming up again as if she doesn’t notice her own body doing it. Her hips naturally roll and press up in small humps, pressing herself to the front of Claudette’s jeans with desperate little ‘nnhhh’s leaving her throat.

It was difficult for Claudette to get hard so quickly- in the mortal realm she had been on E since she was a teenager. The side effects she had discovered were that it was harder for her to get hard, that her breasts developed to about a B cup, her cock had become smaller from what it had been, and producing cum had once been something she could no longer do. Yet, in this realm, she could produce cum. An odd side effect, but she assumed that the Entity somehow knew of aspects of their survivors and gave them what it assumed was correct or wanted.

Regardless of her own unsexual thoughts of the moment, she finds herself filling out and pressing against her zipper. Having been focused longer than she thought she had been when she can make out how Adiris whines now, hips firmly trying to hump up into Claudette without yet noticing.

When Claudette releases her breasts, there’s protests and needy hands grabbing at her, but she shushes softly. Letting her hands fall to Adiris’ waist and methodically pulling her robes up and to the side. No underwear either, she finds quickly. She finds that Adiris has scarring on her upper thighs, her cunt covered with thick hair and the slit parted open like a blossoming flower. Allowing Claudette to see how wet and flushed she was, her flesh still supple here with her clit engorged and wetness sticking to Claudette’s fingers when she experimentally brushes her slit with two fingers.

The sharp reaction of Adiris humping upwards and letting out an echoing ‘ah!’ will fill Claudette’s dreams. She offers a smile of comfort when Adris flushes, covering her face with her arm, but Claudette doesn’t stop her.

Scientific research on bodies that were different than her own had been conducted in the case of something like this happening. With Anna, it was easier since their bodies were much alike. With Adiri , she had, well, to put it bluntly- a pussy. One that Claudette was now inspecting, pushing her lower lips apart and then sandwiching her clit between two fingers. Dipping her fingers down to feel at her hole and prod just a bit and then circling back up.

Through methodical testing she finds quickly what Adiris likes. Ending up with two fingers inside her, stretching her out with her own mouth back on Adiris’ chest. Suckling and letting her teeth scrape across the hardened, abused bud in her mouth.

When Adiris cums, the sound she makes is quiet and overwhelmed. This sound like ‘ nnnhAH -’ leaving her and making her hand smash over her mouth. Her hips convulse, humping up into Claudette’s hand as she moves her fingers inside of her, scissoring and experimenting with pressing different areas.

When Claudette can find it in her, she finds herself sitting up and almost frantically pulling off her boots so she can pull off her jeans. She stays in her shirt and flannel, but only once her pants and panties are off does she pause , looking down at Adiris with flushed cheeks. “May I? I-I-I mean- can--” Claudette’s gesturing again, hands moving with her words despite one being covered with cum, fingers and palm shiny with slick.

Adiris’ eye that has yet to be sealed over with scar tissue narrows in amusement. A little braver, she lifts her hips up in a show that she wants her.

Claudette bites her lip at the gesture, carefully scooting up to be aligned with her. Her cock was about four or five inches now, still a good girth around with foreskin that covered a small portion of the flushed head. When she strokes, she pulls the skin back to reveal the flushed, shiny head, sliding it through Adiris’ lower lips and making both women shudder.

It wasn’t often Claudette wanted to penetrate someone else. But when she’s fully sunken in and lying on top of Adiris and clinging to her? She can’t imagine it any other way. But, she’s overwhelmed, tucking her face into Adiris’ neck and shuddering as she tries to adjust to the heat around her.

That’s when Adiris makes a sound, not of pleasure nor pain, but of surprise. A gentle embarrassed sound and Claudette figures out why when a calloused hand brushes her hip, sliding down over her ass and making her cheeks burn.

“Anna-” She breathes out, turning her head to peek back and up at the Huntress. Anna stands comfortably behind her, having snuck up. Her mask remains on her face, the veil behind her head offering clarity to see the way her head tilts at her name, scarred lips forming a smirk.

“Shhh,” Is the reply she gets back. Claudette’s face burns when she realizes what’s happening once Adiris’ arms go around her neck possessively and holding her tighter. Just at the same moment Anna gets on her knees behind Claudette, cupping her ass and sliding slicked fingers between the swell to tease at her hole.

Overwhelmed enough already, Claudette takes to burying her face in Adiris’ neck with a choked noise. One finger slides inside of her and her entire body jerks. She feels almost like a prize, Adiris now boldened by the competition lets her hands slide down Claudette’s body to grab her ass, pulling gently to bare her to the killer behind her.

“God-” Claudette sobs out, hips jerking forward despite having no space to move.

When two calloused fingers sink into her, Claudette swears she’s going to die. She squirms atop Adiris, who has now taken to stroking up her back, her nails lightly scraping across the soft flesh Claudette had to offer.

After a few moments there’s a shift behind her, her ass thoroughly stretched and her head dizzy with pleasure- Claudette is sure she’s drooled into Adiris’ shoulder by now. There’s shuffling and then Anna’s much bigger body is crowding her into the woman underneath her, making Claudette effectively sandwiched between the two women. Anna takes her cock, lubed up and a good sizeable amount.

A speculation Claudette had was that Anna was unable to take E or any supplements in life, so the Entity rewarded her with however she wanted. Perhaps not the best time to ponder when she’s holding her breath now as Anna sinks into her with a melodic groan behind her.

When Adiris presses her cheek to Claudette’s, her voice is gentle as she whispers, “Breathe.” A simple word that sends shivers down Claudette’s spine as she quickly lets go of the breath she was holding. A shuddering, shaking one escapes her, nosing at Adiris’ neck with a broken sob escaping her.

Too much, too much-

Then Anna starts moving, rocking her with a possessive grip to Claudette’s hips to angle her better. Forcing her to start rocking a bit into Adiris as well and effectively making her head spin. Claudette’s body quakes, soft whines leaving her body as she clings onto the woman underneath her for dear life.

The war she does not feel over her shoulder is, however, brewing. Adiris has her chin tucked on Claudette’s shoulder, making her soft noises as she’s rocked into, but her one good eye trains up at Anna. Anna, who is smirking cockily and her eyes narrowed behind her mask, going so far as to hum in pleasure as she slams her hips hard into Claudette to make her cry out.

They would share, oh, they could share, but both women were trying to be the best. To be the one making Claudette whine like that.

Adiris focuses on holding Claudette like a lover, arms wound around her, legs spread and turning her head as much as she can with her headdress to kiss adoringly at her neck with encouraging sounds to follow.

Anna focuses on yanking and moving Claudette like a doll, fucking into her hard enough that her body bounces with the effort. Claudette’s body responds willingly to the motions, trying to keep up and fuck into Adiris at the same time. You really can’t blame her when she’s suddenly sobbing out and sinking her nails into the dirt beneath her when she cums. Hips stuttering and filling up Adiris, her internal walls fluttering around Anna until all three women are gasping.

Normally, Claudette just needs the one and she’s exhausted, but she quickly finds that the killers she’s sandwiched between aren’t going to let just a ‘one and done’ be the end of this.

She vaguely hears a snarl beneath her, followed by a taunting little hum behind her. She’s vaguely aware of it with Anna still fucking into her like a rabbit, hips slamming home and cock practically never leaving Claudette’s body. It makes her shake, whimper, beg for no more, that she can’t take it, it’s too much -

“One more,” Anna manages to get out with a low groan, nails sunk into Claudette’s hips. “One more.” She repeats, a small chant under her breath that Claudette nearly sobs with. But, she nods, frantically into Adiris’ shoulder and mumbling it back helplessly.

Adiris is the second to cum with a cry. She’s never too loud, soft noises, but she makes a high-pitched sound akin to a squeak into Claudette’s neck. Her nails press into Claudette’s flesh, digging in uncomfortably but the way she squeezes around her? Claudette can’t find it in her to complain.

When Anna cums, Claudette manages a dry orgasm not seconds after. Body trembling, overstimulated, eyes glassy with tears and her head foggy. She’s shaking by the time Anna pulls out, calloused hands appreciatively spreading her ass to watch her cum undoubtedly spill down onto the grass.

There’s a pull and she’s vaguely aware of being pulled into Anna’s embrace and away from Adiris. Her cock feels cold out in the air, wet and no longer warmed inside of the killer. She makes a sound in her throat akin to a complaint, but quiets down when she’s settled across Anna’s lap with her heavy arm across her lap. It grounds her, the weight of it, and even more so when Adiris comes crawling over and rests their foreheads together. Nothing more.

Claudette smiles her tired, silent thanks. She near falls asleep in this realm, if it weren’t for the two women soon seeming to argue over who could hold her.

Ah, the Red Forest, truly a beautiful place.

#Claudette x Huntress #Claudette x Plague #Claudette Morel #The Plague #The Huntress #Dbd #Dead by daylight #dick by daylight #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing #Trans Huntress #Trans Plague #omg so many tags

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thewheezingwyvern · 4 years

Note

Dragon! Dabi with fem!s/o who is a water spirit? Oracle card 35 and possible nsfw?

I got you, nons! Your Oracle Card is the title. It was about healing, wisdom and magic so I thought I would implement a splash of the healing in here and make it like a lore thing!

Dragon!Dabi x Fem!Waterspirit!Reader

NSFT

Kinks: Thigh riding, finger fucking

The Crane Bag

A raspy laugh greeted you when you entered the cave, a familiar place that used to be intimidating but now you found it almost welcoming. It was the same laugh that always sent delicious shivers rolling down your spine and the way it rumbled beneath the rush of the waterfall just outside the mouth of the cave made it all the more alluring. It drew you further into the depths, water trickling from you as you went. You found him lounging against some stolen pillows, soaking in the heat and light from the brazier. His cave was filled with all sorts of trinkets and things, all stolen to be added to his hoard.

“Back again, huh Splashes?” Dabi asked you with a cocky grin.

His legs, clad in black breeches, were spread and bent at the knees. His arms were folded behind his head, avoiding his equally dark horns curving backwards. Your eyes were drawn to the glint of gold rings adorning them before pulling your eyes back to him. Luminous blue eyes peered back at you, glinting with mischief.

“Come on over and have a seat.” he patted his knee.

You rolled your eyes but smiled and approached, “You’re something else, you know that?”

“And you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

He tugged you down onto his lap, the heat rolling off of his body in waves. Dabi knew exactly what he was doing too for he had you straddling one of his thighs, leering at you lecherously. A spike of arousal crested in your belly before sputtering out when you saw that he had more burns on his skin. You clicked your tongue and leaned in to look at his chest, pulling aside the lace up tunic to get a better view.

“You got in another fight.”

Dabi snorted, “Best get used to it babes, I have to defend my territory.”

“I’m not mad. I actually came prepared.”

You freed the satchel that you had on your shoulder. It was an unassuming tattered thing, strung together by bits of rope and reeds that could be found growing by the river. Inside cradled a large flat river stone that thrummed with an unnatural warmth lay. You fished it out and showed it to him, the dark stone a stark contrast against your pale blue skin.

“This is a part of the Crane Bag, an artifact of my people.”

“So you’re telling me that you’re a bag lady?”

You punched his arm, “Shut up and let me heal you.”

“Nah, leave em Splashes. I like having the burns,” Hot hands slid down to grip your hips before grinding your clit down onto his thigh, “More importantly, you’re cute when you’re angry.”

Your fingers clung to the stone, a whimper escaping you at the sensation. Feeling your face heat, you glared at him which only earned you a smirk. You quickly slipped the stone back into the Crane Bag and set it off to the side before gripping him by the horns.

“Is that the best you got, Dabi?”

There was a flash in his eyes and suddenly the world was spinning, your back pressed into the pillows and the water that constantly fell from you saturating the fabric. Greedy hands snaked under your dress, pushing up above your hips so he could dip his fingers down into your sex. A gasp escaped from you when he found your pearl, circling it agonizingly slow.

“Heh, you’re getting wet already.”

“I’m always-ah!”

In one swift movement he sheathed two of his fingers into your dripping heat. You clenched around him tightly, groaning in a deep aching need. Dabi thrust his fingers into you, his wicked grin baring his dragon fangs before his mouth descended onto your throat. The sensations made you melt beneath him, all of your spunk dissolving as you rolled your hips to seek more pleasure.

“I got in a fight,” he growled into your ear, “because not only is this territory mine but you are mine too.”

Fuck. That had you clenching around his fingers, your hands squeezing tighter on his horns.

“So I’m going to fuck you until no one ever questions who you belong to. Better hang on tight, Splashes.”

((Wanna participate in Marine May? Here’s the post with the rules! Check it out and send in your requests!))

#Marine May #BNHA #BNHA smut #BNHA request #Dabi x Reader #Dragon!Dabi #my writing

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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years

Text

Fangs

Commission for anonymous who wanted Cryptane with a side helping of Vampire!Crypto getting nailed by his bf due to a high on being champions.

Summary: Crypto is a vampire. He gets the urge to feed mid being fucked by Octane. So he lets him and they both get a kick out of it. Octane just holds Crypto's head so lovingly to his neck as he takes mouthfuls of his lover's blood. They both cum and then Crypto legs go and is a blubbering mess of "thank you" to Octane

(Older content)

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog :D

Minors and ageless blogs DNI or you will be blocked!

Fandom: Apex legends

Relationship: Crypto/Octane

Warnings: NSFT/R18, Both Crypto and Octane are cis, anal, dick piercings, piercings galore on Octane, blood, vampire!Crypto, vampire feeding, sharp fangs, dirty talk, and ofc Peach not being able to speak a lick of Spanish so we Hope for the best.

Words: 3.1K

_______________

Crypto never thought he’d fall in love- let alone with someone quite as full of energy and recklessness as Octavio.

Personally, he’d always been more of a loner, liking his own company over others’ and never having a need to indulge in such things as love and romance. Besides familial, that is. Not that he felt like he would outlive his partner or other cliché things such as that. Just that, well, he was comfortable alone.

So, you can imagine when Octavio Silva came literally running into his life at mach 5 speeds that all of the feelings that overwhelmed him in that moment would be stressful.

Getting into the blood sport known as the Apex Games was a difficult process even for someone as him who had studied technology for years. With different species of humanoid beings, you probably wouldn’t expect a vampire of all beings to be interested in participating in such a sport, and yet. He had his reasons.

Reasons to stay were completely different now. To want to be at the top of his games so sponsors would flood in and be interested, keep him a well-known person in the games.

Because now, now Octavio was a part of his life. And the apple of his eye for quite some time.

~Rest under the cut~

When feelings had arisen for the infamous daredevil, Crypto had been interested in what was to come from them. Digging a bit deeper into Octavio’s life wasn’t hard, the man was rather open. Not to mention finding news articles about a daredevil that used a grenade to cross the finish line wasn’t exactly hard to find. Then his social media, from him posting pictures with his ‘best friend’ Ajay to whatever he was doing at the current moment.

Maybe spending three hours looking at all of his social media and smiling over his pictures wasn’t a smart thing of Crypto to do, considering he was trying to AVOID the romance aspect. And yet...

Well, now they were a couple, so really, who knows what would have happened if he didn’t get flustered every time he saw Octavio’s banner up on the mountains. Or even watching him cheer and hoot on the drop ship in excitement for a match to begin.

Loving Octavio Silva was easy, but loving his habits was learned. Such as his messy dorm, or how he sometimes forgot to eat and if he did eat, he’d binge eat. Or if he ate a specific spicy food he adored, his scent would change and it would make Crypto make a face. And in turn, make his boyfriend laugh teasingly.

Another thing was asking Octavio to change his piercings from silvers to golds. Which wasn’t a hard request, especially when Crypto had outright offered to buy them for him anyway. But when Octavio had laughed and wiggles his brows, asking if Crypto knew how many he needed, well. Crypto had turned pink at the cheeks and pushed him away.

The next day, Octavio sported gold and Crypto could comfortably kiss him without the burn of a silver piercing on his tongue.

They were a comfortable couple. That much Crypto was thankful for. To the point when he’d get hungry, he’d no longer have to get a blood bag, but could use Octavio instead.

Of course, within limitations.

The beauty of blood bags was there was no worry of killing something, most vampires used that form to stop cravings of hunting as well. Though, the cold blood was the equivalent of eating a frozen dinner for humans.

Being bonded that way meant Crypto was in tune with Octavio’s scent. Could smell him a mile away, literally. Which was an issue in matches when they weren’t paired up.

Because Octavio could feel the pin prickles of doom and gloom hanging over him as he was stalked by the man he loved most.

Daredevil that he was, Octavio often liked the rush of being hunted. Something Crypto found enjoyable was when his partner would give him a run for his money. Darting into the planet of Talos through the thick plants and using his stim to get away quicker. All while Crypto was hot on his heels in search of his next meal.

It didn’t help that Octavio was a masochist, getting off fangs and teeth sinking into his neck and strong arms holding him in place.

All these thoughts are what go through Crypto’s head at a game well done. Wraith, himself, and Octavio were the winners. The banshee known was Wraith had eagerly celebrated with her own girlfriend, getting enveloped in the arms of Bangalore who had pouted at her teasingly for knocking her early on in the game.

Octavio’s energy is always high right now. Crypto could hear his partner’s pulse loud in his own ears, and when his eyes casually slide to look at him, he watches with great delight as Octavio celebrates.

Octavio is excitedly talking to the journalists who like to interview. All while running in place or bouncing, having to work out his energy as he talks animatedly with his hands. Crypto can’t help but watch from the sidelines, leaning in the hall with his head against the wall. Sweeping his eyes over his frame and lingering far too long on his tight shorts.

He bites his own bottom lip, feeling his sharp fangs dig lightly at the plush flesh there.

He wouldn’t last the night.

There’s a celebratory night out via the second and third placing teams. Elliott and Crypto naturally butt heads due to either instinctive nature. Elliott’s wolfish eyes and charming grin don’t change the fact he’s a lycanthrope who had sniffed around his territory of Octavio too often. Something Crypto didn’t take a liking to until Elliott made it clear as day he had a thing for Bloodhound. Someone Crypto was sure was a demi-god of sorts with the way they held themselves.

Naturally, Octavio is down for a night out. Encouraging Crypto with his mask pulled down around his neck and goggles up on his head. Resting on the fluffy green and black streaked mohawk. “Come on, babe! A little night out would be fun- I'll let you watch me dance, eh?” Speaking in a teasing tone, grin on his lips and a smile in his eyes. It doesn’t help his cuteness when he does a goofy dance move as a ‘teaser’.

How could Crypto say no?

It’s how he ends up sitting at a table. Dressed in tight black jeans, a low cut loose white t-shirt and his signature jacket. Watching Octavio excitedly talk from across the table with friends.

Octavio dressed in a black crop top with some matching black shorts that had a more punk vibe with the rips on them. Cinched at the tops of his prosthetics to not get in the way. Thrown over everything he had a black and green hoodie, the hood sporting a fan-made icon for him involving a bunny with a mask matching his own. The ears protruding from the hood and flopping if he had it up.

Around his neck he’d pulled his mask down so he could have a drink or two. His mohawk ruffled and sticking up this way and that as he grinned and laughed with Bangalore who had a few drinks of her own.

Crypto watches quietly from beside Bloodhound at a respectable distance away. Elbow on the table and resting his cheek on his hand. Eyes half lidded as he watches how Octavio licks his lips, sparing glances his way and smiling brighter each time when Crypto offers a raise of one side of his lips.

But, after awhile, time seems to slow and Crypto can only focus on him and the dull thrum of a bass overhead.

Normally the scents here overwhelmed him, but with Octavio only a little bit away, he can only smell him. The deep scent of cinnamon and other spices that lingered around him.

How he knows that Octavio can feel his eyes on him because his pulse is accelerated just like when Crypto hunts him down for fun.

Since he’s sitting in the seat across from him, Crypto makes his interest known. Pressing his combat boot between Octavio’s legs from under the table. Watching him pause for just a moment before sputtering out a reply to Wraith’s question. Tanned, freckled cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

Cute, Crypto thinks. Pressing his boot a bit harder and nudging upwards.

He knows Octavio likes the pressure, liked the bit of a scrape when he laughs nervously and calls out, “I-I think we should- ahh- Call it a night, si? Agreed? Okay! ¿Mi amor?” Octavio’s eyes are pleading, as if begging him to quit the teasing, to just say yes and follow.

It would be easy to say no. To tease him longer. But, with Octavio’s arousal now in the air and Crypto helpless to it, who would he be to say no?

He gives a nod, being polite and offering a quick smile to everyone as they say their goodbyes. Watching as Octavio has to shimmy out and snatch Crypto’s hand before he can do anything else.

They make it to Octavio’s dorm and Crypto is promptly slammed to the door by the shorter of the two. He’s already eager, head tilted and letting Octavio smash his mouth to his own. Crypto moans in response, fisting his fingers into his mohawk to drag the daredevil closer. Letting Octavio lick into his mouth and feel the rounded piercing of gold slide over his own undecorated tongue.

Feeling Octavio’s tongue slide over his fangs and purposefully nick his tongue only makes Crypto growl. Yanking him impossibly closer. Chest to chest as he fits a leg between Octavio’s and lets him rut while he sucks on the tip of his tongue.

When they part, it’s Octavio gasping for breath. Hard in his shorts and shrugging off his hoodie so he can then push off Crypto’s jacket with a shaky laugh blossoming from his chest. “You really are a little brat, hm?” As fingers tug at Crypto’s shirt, making him move his arms to allow it to be pulled off.

Watching Octavio duck his head to kiss at his neck, Crypto can only sigh, forcing him to take a deep breath and getting his lungs full of his scent.

Warm, spicy, delicious, wanted more, needed to be closer- needed it- needed him.

He’s drunk on his scent alone. Feeling Octavio’s hips rut against his thigh like a horny dog as he drags his fingers into his mohawk once more. Huffing with pleasure when blunt teeth sink into his neck and suck on the flesh like he could leave a hickey so easily.

Encouragingly, Crypto lets out a soft moan. Letting his head fall back against the door as Octavio bites and sucks at his neck until he’s hard in his too tight of jeans. Tugging Octavio closer by the loops on his shorts so they can grind their hips together instead. Both hard ons brushing against each other until they’re rutting like animals.

Octavio whines in his ear, nosing at his neck as they cling to each other. The dry humping effectively driving them both up a wall.

“Octavio-” Crypto chokes out, feeling him move from his neck until they’re forehead to forehead. Crypto’s eyes closed and brows furrowed as a greedy hand grabs his ass and yanks him closer. Keeping him flush to Octavio’s body so his hips can piston for just a moment or two to hump him rougher.

Both men moan in response, Crypto’s a little breathier as he tries to push and get his point across.

It’s not long before clothes are being tugged off hastily. Crypto’s on his stomach, two lubed fingers fucking inside of him as he clutches the sheets under him. Biting Octavio’s pillow as his hips rut into the bed in response to each thrust and twist of fingers.

Behind him, he can vaguely make out dirty talk mumbled under Octavio’s breath. Some things he can’t catch, but other times it’s: “Look at you, mi amor, so greedy.” “You’re going to be so tight on my cock.” Then a tight hiss of breath when he enters with three fingers and Crypto chokes out a whine. “Fuuuck. Yeah, baby, keep making that noise.”

Crypto’s cock gives a weak jerk in reply. The scent of Octavio’s room, of Octavio behind him, of their mixed scents- it's all too much. “Just fuck me!” He finally cries out demandingly. Right as fingers curl temptingly and hit the spot in him that makes his hips jerk and his thigh muscles flex.

Octavio rolls him over after that. Fingers pulled out and wiped on his thigh. He’s achingly hard and Crypto’s mouth waters to take him. Three gold barbells lining up the underside of Octavio’s cock are always so tempting to want to lick at. Same with the ones in his nipples and the dermals on his hips.

Hands tug his hips closer. Crypto is near in a frenzy of murmuring ‘yes, yes, yes’ as Octavio strokes the vampire’s cock a few times. The head flushed red and the thickness of it resting on his abdomen and drooling pre-cum.

Thankfully, Octavio has enough sense in him. Laughing breathlessly before getting his attention. “Hey- hey do you want a condom or-?”

Before he can even finish his question about mess, Crypto violently shakes his head. Lifting his hips up eagerly and reaching for him. “No- no cum inside me- please. I want to feel you- please, please-” He’s choking on whines by the time Octavio sucks in a shaky breath, feverishly nodding in reply.

Gentle fingers brush at his hips, stroking over until they can hitch under his thighs. Pulling Crypto nice and close as one of Octavio’s hands push on his own cock to line himself up.

As he pushes in, it’s easier with the stretching and lube on his own cock. They both groan in reply as Crypto sinks down eagerly, the intimacy of the position always wanted. Strong legs hitching around Octavio’s small waist to drag him closer so he can wrap his arms around his neck.

Fucking with Octavio was always a ride. He always wanted it fast, lest Crypto say he wanted it slow or took control himself. He got too excited, humping into Crypto like a dog on his last breeding session. But, he always let Crypto adjust, even if he told him he liked the small ache he got after.

They both wait there, panting as Octavio rests an arm on one side of Crypto’s head. Lips parted to pant softly and Crypto can’t help but stare at the many beauty marks on Octavio’s face. One in particular just under his bottom lip that he felt compelled to kiss all the time.

Their breath mingles as Octavio lingers close, until Crypto can’t take it anymore and pushes his fingers into his hair. Drawing him close until he can consume the speed demon with a hot kiss. Moaning into his mouth as his own tongue licking into Octavio’s mouth.

That does the trick. Hips begin moving into him until the slide and tug becomes more of a pleasurable humping. Bodies mashed together with Octavio’s biceps quivering as he holds himself up. Fucking into Crypto harder and harder until he has to pull back for air. Head falling into Crypto’s shoulder and nestling him right against Octavio’s neck.

It’s a trap, Crypto knows this the second he places his lips in hot kisses over Octavio’s racing pulse. He’s about cross eyed from his scent so close, hearing and feeling his pulse pounding as his hips jerk up. Whimpering into Octavio’s neck and getting a hissed reply back of. “Yeah- like that?”

“Mhmm-” Is hummed from Crypto, dizzy and hypnotized as he noses at Octavio’s neck. Much like a venomous snake lining up their bite. He knows Octavio can feel him. Feeling how Octavio tilts his head eeever so slightly and his breath quickens. Hips coming to a slower pace than the headboard rocking one so Crypto can line up the perfect bite.

It happens at the same time Octavio rolls his hips deeply into him. Rocking Crypto’s frame as his piercings slide clearly over the little spot in him that makes him bite in Octavio’s flesh. A long moan exhaling from his throat, muffled by the bite in his mouth.

Warm blood immediately pools into his mouth after he parts briefly to begin sucking and licking at the wound eagerly. Hips coming up desperately to rock against Octavio’s frame that has now sped back up. Dully, Crypto can hear Octavio encouraging him. Fingers sliding into Crypto’s hair and cradling him close as weight is rested on top of him more to really fuck into him.

Both men are whining their approval to one another until Crypto parts from the bite. Lips stained rosy and some dribbling down his chin as he buries his face into Octavio’s neck with sobbed out, “Thank you- thank you- fuck-” Babbling from his lips.

Octavio can’t take it. The squeezing around his cock, the nails raking down his back, the cute man babbling into his throat like he just offered him a taste of heaven. It’s all too much.

He cums with a cry, shooting into Crypto who greedily clutches at him with his thighs to keep him inside. Huffing out whines and nuzzling at Crypto’s cheek in reply with breathed out, “Please- baby, please- too much- ah, mi amor-”

Crypto gets off on his whining. How despite cumming Octavio is still hard, squirming and thrusting his hips to milk out the last of his orgasm. Crypto isn’t too far behind, nipping at Octavio’s ear and begging him to hold on just a bit longer, just a little. “Shh, keep- ah- going. Almost there, come on, yes yes yes-”

He’s a babbling mess of encouragements as he rocks himself onto Octavio’s cock. Cumming onto his and Octavio’s abdomens with a snarl and his eyes flashing dangerously red as Octavio whimpers. Cumming too soon again in a dry, jerking orgasm.

From there, it’s both of them panting. Octavio lying on top of him, still inside and letting Crypto nuzzle at his neck. Clawed hands brushing through his fluffed up mohawk and scritching at his nape just how he likes. Colder lips kissing over the wound that has just as easily scabbed over.

It’s nice. Slow and soft. Easy.

Crypto should have expected it after a nice moment when he hears Octavio snore softly into his ear.

All he can do is snort, rolling his eyes and letting his boyfriend rest atop him.

A winning well earned.

#Cryptane #Crypto #Octane #Apex legends #apex lemons #nsft #lemon #Vampire Crypto #commissions #princess writing

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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years

Text

Kiss With A Fist

For Twitter user @/Milk_Guts! They wanted Cryptage with heavy, heavy impact play. So please be sure to read the warnings on this before proceeding!

Summary: Could you really blame Elliott for wanting to watch his boyfriend look so grumpy and focused whilst he made sure enemies weren't nearby? Okay, so maybe you COULD blame him for the loss and them getting stuck in third place when he was more interested fantasizing about said grumpy boyfriend holding a gun to his face to make him suck on the barrel-- BUT. No hard feelings, right?...Right, Crypto...honey...?

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog the fics you like :D

Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked.

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Crypto/Mirage

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, Impact play, slapping and punching someone for sexual pleasure, blood, bruising, Crypto slaps Mirage’s face and punches him, consensually ofc and with aftercare, derogatory language used like ‘pathetic’.

Words: 3.8k

____________________

When Elliott ended up in a duo with his boyfriend, some things just never changed.

Like getting distracted at how seriously handsome Crypto’s face always was. They’re hiding in one of the tall buildings in one of the sectors of World’s Edge. It gave Elliott time to watch, he thinks. Like how Crypto’s brow is furrowed, concentration on his face as he rests crouched behind a wall and making sure to tag nearby enemies. The visor over his eyes always made him look so pretty with the soft, green glow to his features. And yeah, maybe Elliott quietly got distracted because of it, could you blame him?

Where Crypto’s was illuminated in green, his eyes reflecting the color from dark pools. His lashes casting small shadows onto his sharp cheekbones, full lips tugged into a frown as his eyes flicker and focus on the task of flying Hack. Elliott is practically heart eyes watching him, hardly catching what Crypto’s huffing except for the tail end of, “-emy over there. Close by.”

“Huh?” Elliott responds in a sort of starstruck manner, watching Crypto come out of his crouch and visor falling away from his face. There’s a moment where they make eye contact, where Crypto is very aware of his boyfriend leaning over the railing just to stare at him without even a weapon in hand.

Oops.

~Rest under the cut~

“Focus, Mirage.” Crypto huffs coldly, brushing past him and shouldering his flatline as he heads down the building. Elliott really can’t help the bright smile that goes across his face when he watches Crypto walk ahead. Especially when his coat flutters in such a way Elliott can get a peek at that perfectly sculpted ass in his pants.

What? He had his priorities.

“I am focused! Focused as I could ever possibly be! More focused than that time we were—woah-ho-ho, yes, sir. Sheesh.” Elliott starts to go off, only to pause when Crypto whips around mid-sentence, holding a finger to his lips to remind him to be quiet. The term ‘sir’ makes Crypto’s eyes flash dangerously, that certain look he got that sent pleasant shivers all across Elliott’s body.

A look he got that said Elliott was in for it if he didn’t pull together his act.

Right, but, a match was a match. Crypto was right to tell him off. He really had to start focusing on other things other than how handsome Crypto looked when he was pissed. And wielding a dangerous weapon. And what he could do...with that..dangerous weapon. Let alone his hands just as is-

The alarm sounding of the reminder of the ring closing is the only thing that takes his mind out of it. Quickly picking up his pace to match behind Crypto as they dip between buildings for loot and to peek around for any enemy squads.

As is, they were doing pretty well. Seven squads left. Crypto had four kills scored, heavy damage under his belt. While Elliott was proud to say he had four to match, with a pick up of Crypto under his belt as well. A knock that, well, TECHNICALLY was Elliott’s fault to begin with for not paying attention, but they weren’t going to discuss that.

It isn’t until they’re in top three and Elliott’s ‘not paying attention’ gets them in third place. It totally is his fault, he’ll admit to that, but the angrier Crypto seemed to get, the hotter Elliott started to feel. It got to the point where all he could think about was Crypto holding the barrel of his weapon to his mouth and snarling for him to lick and be a good boy. So deep in his fantasy he failed to hear the callout of ‘get to cover’.

Their trip to the locker rooms after a quick trip to the medical bay is filled with deathly quiet silence.

Elliott’s mind starts to drift as he stands in the stream of a shower, hearing Crypto start up the shower stall next to his. Separated by thick walls of tile. He starts to worry Crypto was actually pissed, not just that small grumpy way he got. He’s already conjuring up apologies in his head, maybe even offering to make dinner- go out for drinks? No, Crypto didn’t like going out- stay in for drinks? Would he want him to give him a massage maybe? Yeah! That’s a good idea, Crypto always was a sucker for-

“WOAH-HEY-” Elliott yelps out when a body slides up behind his, promptly shut up when a hand smacks over his mouth. He’s deathly still when he feels a naked body behind his, but the familiar shape and fit of the frame make him relax. Especially when there’s a soft, familiar ‘shhh’ in his ear heard past the pounding of the warm water over him.

The hand stays over Elliott’s mouth, the other tracing down over his chest to thumb over a nipple briefly. Nails slowly sliding down his abdomen to where his cock had gotten about half mast when he’d started to worry Crypto was actually mad at him. A whimper erupts from his throat, tipping his head to the side when Crypto’s teeth nip at his ear softly.

In public? Here? In the locker room? Sure, the stalls were fully covered but- Crypto was all about privacy! Even to the point Elliott made sure to even call him Crypto in his head, just so he didn’t slip up in public! Public was kind of his own thing, a quiet fantasy-

Calloused fingers squeezing his balls about make Elliott go cross eyed. A whine trying to break past the hand clamped over his mouth. He’s fully ready for a shower fuck, but Crypto grunts in his ear, “I am still angry with you from earlier. Consider this a...an apology before the storm.”

He pauses there, his hand coming up, tracing his nails on the underside of Elliott’s hard cock. Wrapping his fingers around the base to squeeze as he growls into his ear, “I am going to make you bleed, Witt, do you understand me?”

Oh?

Oh.

Elliott’s face is burning red at the idea. His heart racing as he thinks about what Crypto meant. Guns? Knives? Was he going to hit him? It’s not as if they hadn’t done impact play before, albeit Crypto had more fun with slapping his ass and grabbing his face roughly than doing anything that could make him bleed or bruise too badly.

Realizing Crypto’s waiting for a response, Elliott nods to his best ability to agree to the quiet agreement of consent. Though, he’s disappointed when Crypto releases him, only able to toss a look over his shoulder to catch Crypto’s beauty marked, fit back leave the stall to his own.

Fuck.

Elliott’s head drops, looking at his poor neglected dick standing to attention. Fat and hard against his thigh and over sensitive from the warm water. He knew better than to touch- especially when Crypto was the one in the mood to take charge for the night. It would just result in something worse like a chastity cage.

A moan parts from his lips at the idea, having to shakily prop himself up against a nearby wall before his knees buckled.

Oh, he was in for it.

When Elliott gets back to his room, there’s only a moment where Crypto gives him time to think over his consent. He’s standing in only tight black pants, his necklaces, and combat boots. Elliott himself in a loose v-neck t-shirt and sweatpants.

Crypto circles him like prey when he murmurs, “I plan to hurt you. I shall take care of you after, as I always do,” His hand traces over Elliott’s side then, just a gentle touch that leaves him whimpering. “But, I plan to punish you for your distractions in the arena. If at any point it becomes too much, you stop me, am I understood?”

There’s that tinge of concern in his voice as he circles towards Elliott’s back. He knows he’s got that expression on where he’s second guessing himself, where he’s wondering if he’s going to cross a line into territory Elliott isn’t enthusiastically hard for in these very moments. Elliott nods quickly to reassure him he’s very, very into this. “Y-yeah. Yes. You’re understood. It’s okay, baby, seriously, I can take pain. Hurt me- please?”

He says it in his prettiest of voices too. Delighted in the swear he hears behind him quietly and feeling a little more than proud of himself. He’s about to start begging again, pleading for Crypto to just slap him, punch him, hurt him-

The swift kick to the backs of his knees sends Elliott slamming down onto them. He grunts, feeling Crypto’s fingers twist into his curls and yank his head back until he’s near in a perfect arch. He’s looking up at Crypto, who is looking back down at him with a sneer on his face, lips pursed, and a furrow to his brow.

So pretty.

“Stay.” Is all he says, a snarl to his face as he releases Elliott’s hair. Elliott is already leaking in his pants by now, his hips rolling into nothing as Crypto comes around to his front. Normally he’d obey with ease, normally he’d want to be good to get on Crypto’s good side in the rare occasions he was confident enough to do this. To have control.

However, he wants to see just how serious Crypto was. So, Elliott rolls his shoulders, sitting up and moving his head to fall forward.

Immediately he feels the repercussion. A loud slap resounds as the back of Crypto’s hand makes impact on his left cheek. A thrill shoots through Elliott, his head moving with the motion and a grunt leaving his throat.

“Perhaps you did not hear me. I said stay.” Crypto’s voice is a low, dangerous growl. Sent straight to Elliott’s dick that twitches heavily once in his loose pants. He has to fight the urge to smile, but he must not fight it hard enough, his lips twitching upwards as he rolls his head right back up.

“Make me- AH !” Elliott hardly gets out even a quarter of his taunt before his other cheek is slapped. His jaw is grabbed, nailed pressing into his flesh and making him hiss as his face is manipulated and moved to look up at Crypto. He’s leaned down, near nose to nose with Elliott with the angriest expression on his face he thinks he’s ever seen him wear.

It’s unfairly hot.

Their lips collide in a heated kiss. Fit with Crypto making sure to bite down hard enough on Elliott’s lower lip to bleed and hurt. He whines at the pain, his hands coming up to try and grip at Crypto’s shoulders, but before he can even get close, he’s getting headbutt and thrown back down to the floor.

When his back hits the floor, Crypto is climbing on top of him instantly. Pinning him by straddling his hips and digging his knees into Elliott’s hands to keep them flat to the floor. He has the gall to wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand, wiping off the saliva and blood. Leaving Elliott to bleed with his lips shiny and wet, licking over them to taste Crypto left on them and the heavy taste of copper.

Elliott can’t help the grin that splits across his face when he can finally make out the image of Crypto on top of him. Anger across his features and his hand grabbing Elliott’s jaw again to keep him still. “Are you sorry for what you have done?” Crypto snarls, squeezing his jaw tight enough to make Elliott grunt softly.

But he doesn’t fold.

“Should I apologize for admiring how pretty you a--?” His question is cut off just like he thought it would be, the hand holding his jaw snapping back and slapping him across the face again with an open palm. A cry leaves his lips from the pain, but his body betrays him when his hips press upwards against Crypto’s ass with a desperation to ease the aching.

Another slap is hit on his other cheek to even out the pain. The stinging making Elliott’s head hit the floor, his back arching and a twisted moan leaving his throat as his hips try to fuck upwards again like a horny dog. A hand wrapping around his throat only serves to make him whine, pleas spilling from his lips.

“Hurt me, baby, please, please, please- please, you can do worse, I know you can, c’mon- fuck me- you’re so hot like this-” Elliott’s practically sobbing out, tears already pricking his eyes and a few curling down his cheeks. Only serving to make where there must be a split in one feel more like a sting.

Crypto’s hips grinding downwards only help in being a distraction before a harder hit is slammed into the meat of his other cheek. A solid punch that knocks his head to the side and makes Elliott’s cock jerk with one last desperate hump upwards without thinking about it through the pain. Just suddenly waves of pleasure overtaking him as he cums in his own pants. All from getting punched. Humping upwards as best as he can to try and get stimulation through it and pleading with Crypto to hit him harder.

Man, he should maybe talk to someone about that.

“You’re pathetic, old man.” Crypto sneers out as if he’s disgusted. Only making Elliott moan out at the wave of humiliation creeping down his spine. He shakes his head without thinking, his jaw getting grabbed and trying to look through his bleary eyes at Crypto’s face.

Crypto’s face betrays how he thinks about this situation. Despite the angry expression he’s wearing, his face is burning bright red across his cheeks. His lips parted to breathe heavier and his own pants straining with how hard he is. One glance downwards only makes embarrassment curl up Elliott’s spine, seeing the wet front of his own pants and feeling just how hard he still is.

There’s no relief or pause. Crypto’s moving, getting off Elliott’s body just to stand. His boot nudges between his legs, making Elliott hump upwards with a broken sob bursting from his lips and a wince echoing the motion. Crypto sneers again, a face that Elliott whimpers at, even more so when he hears Crypto growl out, “You look like a whore.”

For someone who didn’t normally use those sorts of words , it sounded like filth from his lips. Elliott can only sob brokenly, nodding in agreement and lifting his hips up as if to show his mess off more prominently.

As if to display what a whore he could be for Crypto.

There’s a rush after that. Crypto strips down to nothing except for the necklaces around his neck, Elliott’s pants tugged down to mid-thigh and his shirt yanked up and thrown somewhere else. He’s vaguely aware of cold lubricant being poured onto his wet cock, already hard and ready to go again, slick with his own cum and the head red from arousal.

He’s about to sputter about prep when Crypto straddles his hips again, reaching back to line him up with his hole that is...already prepped.

Oh, that sly fucking bastard- when Elliott was in the shower?!

He doesn’t even have the brain power to imagine Crypto shyly holding his own leg open to fuck himself open with his fingers while he waited. Only able to feel how Crypto sinks down onto him with ease, his nails digging into Elliott’s chest and a beautiful whine erupting from his lips.

Elliott manages to tune back into the world just to see Crypto’s facial expression. Where his head rolls to the side, eyes closed blissfully with just a small knit to his brow. How his shoulders are taut and his cock rests over Elliott’s bare abdomen. He looks so flushed, so pretty. Elliott almost compliments him, but quickly thinks against it when there’s a loud thrum on his cheek of where he’d been punched.

Pressing his hands to the floor, Elliott makes the most miserable sound in his throat when the thrum of pain from his cheek and the oversensitivity of his cock hits him. He groans, hips trying to come up as if he couldn’t figure out whether to push himself deeper into Crypto or to try and buck him off. He feels like he’s swimming in sub space right now, his head lolling to the side and a moan blossoming from his lips when he feels Crypto grab his jaw.

It’s still rough, forcing his attention up to him. Crypto’s lips are moving, but Elliott can’t hear him over the sound of his own whimpering and the way his head is full of pleasure and pain all at once. Feeling Crypto’s hips move, riding him earnestly. But Elliott does manage to tune into the question, spoken so softly , “Color?”

“Green!” He cries out near instantly, a sob wracking his chest when Crypto’s fingers squeeze his jaw tighter where he knows bruises have already formed.

He must look a mess. Dried blood on his bitten lip and undoubtedly some on his chin, his cheeks reddened from being slapped and his left cheek bruised up and purple from being punched. Wet, fat tears stay in his eyes and trail down his cheeks, flushed lips parted and letting out pathetic sounds. He thought he must look pathetic, helpless.

Crypto thought he’d never looked more beautiful.

Elliott almost wants Crypto to hit him again, to be cruel longer, but he knows that this as is was a huge step for him to being rougher. Control was something Crypto struggled with, and this even was a big feat of its own. So, when he manages to focus on Crypto’s face to see it’s relaxed and no longer angry, the small furrow of pleasure to his brow; He knows that no more pain will come to him.

A moan tumbles out of Elliott’s lips before he can think, his hips humping upwards into every downwards rock of Crypto’s body. “F-fuck, baby. Fuck, you’re so hot- you were so h-hot. Extr - extrao —extra—great! Fuck, you’re so tight-” Elliott’s a sobbing mess under him, toes curling into the floor and moving his arms up towards Crypto without thinking.

Thankfully, Crypto follows the motion. Letting his body come down, resting one forearm by Elliott’s head to keep himself up. His other hand cups the back of Elliott’s head to draw him to the crook of his neck. Elliott’s arms are quick to wrap around his torso, nails digging into Crypto’s back as he rides his cock in desperate little rocks.

Crypto’s always relatively quiet, it was always a goal for Elliott to try and make him sing aloud. But even the small grunt and quiet, shaky breath in his ear is enough for Elliott. Even more so when he’s huffing out quietly into Elliott’s ear, “My name. Say it. My n-name-”

And Elliott is more than happy to sob it repeatedly like the good boy he is, with shaking cries of, “Tae Joon- Tae Joon, baby- fuck, oh God, T-Tae--” Over sensitive and high strung, he cums again, hands scrabbling to grab Crypto’s ass to hold him still to fuck up into him without thinking.

The constant stream of Crypto’s mother tongue mumbling near his ear only makes it better. Hearing the tight hitch in Crypto’s throat, then the quiet, almost pained grunt when he cums. Feeling how Crypto’s cock jerks heavily between them without even being touched and spilling cum onto Elliott’s abdomen.

There’s the brief moment where they just lie there on the floor catching their breaths. But Crypto doesn’t linger too long, gently prying Elliott from his body and helping him up and onto the bed instead.

Elliott doesn’t mind being manhandled, flopping onto the soft sheets and watching Crypto’s retreating form head to the bathroom. Especially when he gets to see the lines of red on his back and cum dribble from his ass down his thighs.

It takes two minutes for him to return looking way more cleaned up than Elliott. He’s got ice in a bag from the kitchen, a wet wash cloth, and a jar of salve in his hands. Climbing up onto the bed beside him and rolling his eyes when Elliott just beams brightly up at him like a lovestruck fool.

No words are exchanged yet as Crypto focuses more on cleaning him up. The wash cloth is used first to wipe up the blood from his mouth, then to gently wipe off his abdomen and hip area, taking care of his sensitive, soft dick. The cold fabric makes Elliott whine, but he takes it all in stride.

The salve is gently massaged into wherever there was bruises, on his jawline, cheeks, gingerly touching over where he’d punched him before guiding Elliott’s hand up so he could hold the ice there.

A gentle, chaste kiss is pressed to his lips, more aimed towards where Elliott was bitten. He can’t help but make a sad noise when Crypto parts too soon, resulting in an eye roll from him, “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Would you love me any other way?” Elliott grins, earning him another kiss that he gladly accepts. It’s soft, a bit of an awkward angle due to him holding the ice to his cheek, but they make it work.

When Crypto parts, he brushes back Elliott’s hair affectionately from his face, pushing the curls to the side to softly trace his fingers down. He cups Elliott’s cheek not covered in ice, his lips trying to form the right words as his cheeks dust red. He’s struggling, and Elliott’s about to tell him he doesn’t have to say anything, but it comes out quietly of, “T...Thank you. For letting me try this.”

“Oooh, I get a thanks for letting you beat the shit out of me for fun?” Elliott playfully replies back, earning him a playful push at his chest that makes him laugh hard enough to hurt. “Okay! Okay, I’m sorry! You’re welcome.”

Satisfied with that answer, Crypto pecks a kiss to his forehead, sliding out of bed to get dressed into clothing again across the room. But not without Elliott calling over with a small laugh, “But, hey, you can hit me harder next time! Promise I won’t break!”

“Perhaps next time you would like a knife brought to the bedroom instead.” Crypto grunts, sounding more like he’s joking than being serious as he pulls on a pair of loose pants. But when he looks over at Elliott under his lashes, he’s wearing a flush to his cheeks and that dumb smile on his face.

Crypto groans out a swear and shakes his head.

But...neither say no.

Elliott’s going to have to piss him off more often.

#Cryptage #Crypto #Mirage #Apex legends #apex lemons #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

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