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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

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Mesh’la - Rogue, Chapter 18| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

(I know the gif is Javi, but there aren’t exactly many Mando gifs that would fit this chapter.. I’ve also had this for a while so let me know if its yours and i’ll tag you♥︎)

Summary: After Din’s revelation, walls that have been crumbling for a while, finally break.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, smut, cunnilingus/fingering(f receiving),unprotected sex, p in v sex, flufffffffff finally.��Let me know if I forgot anything!

AN: I have nothing to say but… enjoy.

Word count: 7.6k +

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jackgrzs @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004 @seninjakitey @what-iwish-you-knew @queenofthefaceless @rosiefridayrogersunday @greeneyedblondie44 @itsnottilly @welcometothepedroverse @xgoldenjenny @heyitsjaybird @mamacitapascal

Mando’a Translation: Mesh'la - beautiful

“I love you.”

Those three little words echoed around your mind, bouncing around the walls of your conscious and then travelling down to your heart where they curled up there, settled into the space that had been carved out for Din, long before you met him.

“You…” Your voice broke a little, so you cleared your throat and tried again, talking over the splash of the water that was no doubt going to turn cold any moment. “You love me…?”

Din was breathing heavily, the wet fabric of his clothes pulling over his chest and he nodded. “Yes. I love you.” His voice was still soft, but imploring you to understand him, to listen and stop saying such things about yourself. “I… I’ve loved you for a long time, sweetheart.”

Well.

His words rendered you… sort of speechless for a moment.

He loved you.

Din had loved you for “a long time”.

Just as you had loved him.

You blinked up at him, water rolling down your hair, making beads over your skin as steam floated about the small space. It probably wasn’t doing his helmet any good, but there was no way either of you could leave this moment. “I… I had no idea...”

Din laughed, it wasn’t cruel, it was more a sort of exhausted laugh, yet there was a level of love in it, “I know… You’re the most intelligent person I know, and you could talk your way out of anything... but when it comes to noticing what’s right in front of you…” His voice was a little teasing, “You are a little blind, princess.”

Despite the revelations and the shock – and elation - screaming through you, you did have to pout. “You can’t blame me… How was I supposed to know?”

Din leant against the wall, “Well, I know this…” He tapped his helmet, “Makes things a little difficult but…” He huffed a little, “I didn’t really know it myself at first. It wasn’t until people started to mention it… I realised that everything I’d been feeling...” Din seemed to stumble a little over his words again. “For weeks… I… I’ve just... needed to be close to you. After I sent you to Nevarro, I met Haran for the first time on Tatooine. He told me he knew who you were, that he was coming after you and I only had a week. I was… I felt something I haven’t felt in a long, long time. True fear. And when I got into that cantina… and I saw him sitting there with you…” Din shook his head, looking down. “I wanted to kill him. And then you started shouting at me…” He laughed a little, “You always have such a fire in you when you’re pissed at me… It’s like flying into the sun.”

You couldn’t help the soft laugh of your own, “I’d say I’m sorry but…”

He lifted his head, tilting it and you could feel his eyes on you through the visor, “Then I’d know that fall had done more damage than it already has.” The laughter visibly drained from his body, his voice, “I thought I’d lost you… You were…” He seemed to almost choke on the words, “You were dead. In my arms. Your heart wasn’t beating… You were just… gone.” His voice broke and he sucked in a breath. “My whole world stopped.”

The feeling of darkness, of those icy bands wrapping around you and filling your lungs washed over you, and you shuddered. You wouldn’t be forgetting the feeling of having the air crushed from your lungs for a long, long while.

You could only imagine what it was like for Din, having to pull you out. Having to coax your broken body into living again…

“I tried and tried, but… it just wouldn’t work. You were dead.” His voice was stricken, haunted and you had a feeling you might be waking up to Din’s nightmares soon too.

He sucked in a hitched gasp of his own, touching his helmet like he would run his fingers through his hair – his hands were shaking, almost violently and he curled them into a fist.

“All I could think was... how am I supposed to go on? I let you down, in the worst way possible. I let you slip away, I let him take you and hurt you and then you died... without... without seeing my face, without knowing what keeps me up at night, the things I so desperately want to say to you. That threaten to come out every time I see and... and I have to change the subject or leave because I look at you and I just...” He lifted his head again, watching you, his chest heaving, “Lose my mind. Lose everything I know. It all just fills with you. And then I don’t know which way is up or where to go that isn’t by your side. I want to be there, all the time. I want to hear the way you think, I want you to shout at me when I annoy you. I want to watch you play with the kids and get them to do things when they don’t listen to me. I want to see the world through your eyes, see the beauty in every single thing.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but let these words, this outpouring wash over you and listen to the way he’d been feeling for… months.

“And to know that you would have died without knowing that, without me being able to tell you just how much you mean to me, how much I need you in my life and I want to protect you. How you make me a better man and-” He made a little noise, like he was winded.

“Din.” You limped across to him, cupping the jaw of the helmet, “Din, breathe.” There were tears rolling down your cheeks, your mind reeling at his sweet, meaningful words, but he was going to send himself into some kind of attack in a minute. You slid your hands down to rest on top of his shoulders, feeling the broad strength beneath the fabric.

At your touch, even with the layers, he groaned like he was in pain. “Whenever you touch me… I feel like I’m burning. Like… electricity is searing through me. It makes me feel alive. I… Mandalorian’s don’t really… we don’t really experience touch.” He motioned loosely to his armour, being careful not to bump you – or move you away. “We don’t get to feel the breeze on our hair… or the sun on our skin. We don’t feel a casual touch or a hug or… anything.” He sounded a little hesitant, speaking such words that he would never, ever have previously said aloud before. His tone was a little jagged and stilted, like he was torn between keeping the anonymity of the Mandalorian’s and telling you everything.

“But… When I feel your touch, your skin… It’s like... I’m feeling everything all at once.” He lifted his hand, brushing wet, gloved fingers down your cheek, but the touch still ignited you, “That night I felt your hair... and when you had your nightmare… I thought I was going to die. From how you felt around me, the way you were so… ready… ” Another ragged hitch of breath.

You turned your head into his touch, goosebumps rising over your skin, “So, touch me again.”

Din’s fingers stilled, and you almost heard his heart thud, “I… what?”

You lifted your hand, brushing your fingertips over the edge of his gloves, “Touch me.” You looked up at him, heat coiling in your belly, your very soul, “Din, touch me. Please.” Desire and pleading coloured your voice, your expression. A wildness came over you, and you shed yourself of your torn top, leaving just the thin bandeau around your chest.

Din’s hands curled into fists as you took off your top and he looked at you, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed, desire burning through your eyes and darkening them.

“Close your eyes.” His voice was husky and rough, equally desperate for you.

Without a hesitation, you obeyed, squeezing shut your eyes, barely able to restrain yourself.

You heard the sound of leather on skin, two wet plops on the floor and you expected Din’s touch on your skin but… instead, you heard him pick up your top.

A soft ripping noise was heard over the water, and then you felt the sodden fabric against your closed eyes. He was tying it behind your head, like a blindfold. “Din, what are you…”

“Shhh, cyar'ika.” There were some sounds you couldn’t identify and then…

Then the sound of air hissing – a little bubbly -, and then something hard and metallic being set down on the floor, then the wet plop of his top.

Your heart stopped. Everything stopped.

Something hard.

And metallic.

Oh, Maker and all the stars above.

“Din…” You whispered his name this time, your heart suddenly pounding a frantic beat in your chest, your neck, your wrists. Heat flooded across your body, your skin tightening in anticipation and it was a little harder to breathe.

He’d taken off his helmet.

You heard footsteps, and then Din’s hands cupped your cheeks, big, a little rough and always so warm. “Princess…” He whispered it back, and you had the sense of him coming closer.

The first brush of his lips consumed you.

They were a little chilly, but plush and unimaginably soft. And there was a scratchiness on your lips…

Oh, by the Maker, he had a moustache… That did things to you. Things that resulted in heat and warmth between your legs.

Din moved those lips over your own, like butterfly wings, checking you were okay with this.

Like he wasn’t the one who had just removed his helmet for the first time, properly around you. Like you weren’t standing there with just a piece of torn cloth shielding your eyes. You could easily reach up and swipe it away and see his true face.

But you would never do such a thing.

Never even think of it.

And he knew that, which is why he trusted you so much.

It made your heart ache, in the best way.

But this soft kissing… it wasn’t enough.

You angled your head more into his, his rough hands still cupping your jaw and you kissed him with a little more pressure. Your hands reached up, fingertips brushing his bare shoulders and then you dropped them to his waist instead, and you grasped his hips, letting him know he could let go, that you needed him to let go as well.

Din made a little noise against your lips, and by the way he went still, you just knew it was with restraint. You could feel that tidal wave inside him, cresting and so close to crashing back down.

You wanted it. No… you needed to consume you both.

Needed him to consume you.

You pulled back mere millimetres, just enough to whisper, “Din… Let go…” You brushed your hands along the sodden fabric of his trousers, your thumbs brushing the bare skin of his hips.

That simple touch, that whisper of a caress on such previously untouched skin melted any restraint within him.

With a noise like a moan and growl all in one, he pulled you closer. His mouth came down on yours, kissing you with a sudden fierce intensity that seared through you.

It broke your own walls, and you curled your fingers into his belt, rising up on tiptoe and matching his frantic pace.

Within seconds, his tongue lightly traced your lips, and when you parted for him, he moaned low in the back of his throat, that proper taste of you nearly bringing him to his knees.

The press of his hot tongue against your own was a blessing, a curse, and a damnation all in one.

He tasted like… like cool water on a hot day, like fresh tea in the morning, like the best chocolate cake, all rolled into one and topped with his distinct, smokiness that clung to him.

Din’s arms snaked around your waist, sliding up your back, holding you into his body but it wasn’t close enough, not enough for how long this had been building between the two of you.

That intense heat never failed to take over, whether you were teasing each other, arguing, or doing delicious things like this.

It had been there from that very first moment on Sorgan.

You took the initiative, summoning the strength that had been building again and you pressed against him, pinning him to the wall just behind so you could lean your full body weight into him, so you could feel every inch of his body against yours.

It was heavenly, the feel of his bare skin, so new to you, against your own and the contact made your eyes roll back into your head a little bit.

He was solid, warm, and so familiar beneath your body, that every cell just cried out for more, no matter how close you were.

Din made a choked noise of his own, his entire body shaking with all the contact, a sensation he had never felt for years. It was like stepping into the sunlight for the first time, like sinking into hot water, or being electrocuted.

You felt him shaking against you, felt the ragged drag of his breath and you pulled back from his lips, “Din, if this is too much-“

He shook his head, chasing your kiss, his voice almost tortured, “No, don’t. Don’t stop, please. I… Just don’t stop.” He gasped a little, bringing his mouth back to yours.

You needed him, needed him in body, soul and mind and wanted to burn with him forever.

A torn sound of need escaped against his lips as you fought his tongue for dominance, tracing your tongue over his teeth.

Din groaned, his hands leaving their roaming over your back, just long enough to slide down over your ass and the backs of your thighs. He grasped them, bending his own knees and he picked you up, winding your legs around his waist.

He brushed against your core, and your moans of unison echoed over the pounding of the water. He rocked his hips against yours, the friction pressing against your burning heat, the rub of every hard in of him. He needed you, as much as you needed him and you were prepared to ask him, beg him to take you right here in the ‘fresher, against the wall…

Except, it chose that moment to go absolutely, completely, ice cold.

You squealed, pulling away from Din and ducking your head into his shoulder, trying to hide from the icy spray that was now hitting mostly the back of your head and neck. “Fuck me, that’s cold!”

From somewhere above you, Din burst into a chuckle, “Hang on, princess.’ His voice was low and husky, and only heated you even further, the icy water having no effect in diminishing the fire.

He turned off the taps, and the sudden silence was almost as loud as the water had been.

He gingerly stepped from the wet floor, holding you against his body still and he fumbled with one hand before a towel was swathed around your body. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

I can think of way you can warm me up.

There was a soft snort, and you knew your face had given away that thought, even with the blindfold. You rested your head back against Din’s neck, allowing him to carry you back to your room, just relishing in the feeling of being held by him – in more ways than one.

He made his way expertly through the ship, his feet making wet squelches on the floor that had you giggling.

By the time the doors to your room opened, you were both laughing, cheeks flushed and hearts stumbling over each other.

Din set you down carefully, his hands on your upper arms and the laughter faded away into something much more intense and serious.

You could feel his eyes on you, dragging over your skin like he was taking in every single inch. His breathing was ragged, his touch searing through your skin and warming your very bones. It occurred to you that you knew this man, inside and out. You could tell the change in his mood from his breathing, the tenseness of his body or what his head tilts meant.

You hadn’t seen his face, or any of his skin and yet… you felt like you knew him deeper than that, deeper than just what was on the surface. You could locate him in a dark room, from the sound of his breathing alone.

And he knew you too.

He always had.

His warm, broad hands brushed up your arms, over your shoulders, tracing a path. “Are you okay?” The rough cadence of his voice told you that he was holding back, everything in him that was still threatening to come out. But he was making sure you wanted this, wanted to cross the wall that had been crumbling ever since that night you broke down.

One word from you, and he would haul that wall back up and it would be fine.

Your lips parted at his touch and his voice, desire and a need for him coiling in your belly. You wanted to be close to him, to feel his skin on yours, his touch, map his body blindly and just… Rise to the stars and never fall back down, wrapped in him and everything he had bought to your life. “Yes… I want this… Din, I want you-”

No sooner had you finished talking, Din made a noise low in his throat and then he was on you, his hands sliding up your neck to your jaw, framing it in his hands like you were something precious and rare, and then his warmed lips came down upon yours. They were soft at first, dancing against your own with an almost shyness. And then it changed, his tongue brushing over your lips and then slipping inside your lips when you granted him permission.

His tongue danced with your own, and just the brush of his facial hair and the taste of him could have brought you to your knees. You moaned low, arching your body into him so you were pressed against his tall, broad frame, the bare skin of his belly and the tickle of his happy trail only making you wetter.

As you battled for dominance in the kiss, Din walked you backwards, pulling from your mouth with a tug to your lip and then he was planting kisses along your jaw, trailing them to your ear where he sucked your earlobe gently, earning a breathy moan in return.

He pushed you gently toward the bed, but not before pressing soft kisses down your neck – and then tracing back up the line of your throat with his tongue.

You felt that stroke of his tongue everywhere, the wet heat of it searing a line straight down your spine and you cried out a little, hand flying up to the back of his head to grip his hair by instinct.

And you froze.

You hadn’t asked for permission to touch him – if it was even okay, if he wanted you to. “Din, I – I’m sorry.” Your voice was choked with need, your fingers loosening.

“No!” Din shook his head rapidly, “No, keep it there – I... Touch me. Please.” His voice was hoarse again, his words hot and desperate against your throat.

His repetition of his words from the ‘fresher assured you it was okay, and you wound your fingers back into his hair, curling the locks around your fingers as he mouthed over your skin, dragging his teeth, “Din, I need you...”

The edge of the thin cot hit the backs of your thighs, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, “I know, sweetheart...” He kissed underneath your chin, then the hollow of your throat, “I’ve needed you, for so, so long...” His lips trailed lower, ghosting over your collarbones where he paused for a second, tracing a hot, wet line along them with his tongue again, “I think since the moment you tried to kill me on Sorgan.” The trail of lips moved over your chest, then your left breast, on the fabric of your bandeau, “When you teased me every moment after…” His words resounded with your soft, breathy moan, and he moved to the right, “And on Nevarro…”

He groaned a little, slowly sinking lower and his hands came up to your sides, as he bit gently on the skin of your belly, “Those words that came out of your mouth on Nevarro… You were killing me, you were seeing right into my head and telling me my dreams, like you knew them.” His tongue darted out, tracing a circle around your belly button and a shudder ran through you.

You dropped your hands to his shoulders, needing more grip and balance. And there was more than enough. You knew his shoulders were broad, but fuck, actually holding them was a completely different story.

Stars, you were going to fall apart and all he was doing was kissing you.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to do those things, how long I’ve wanted to… but… Most of all, I wanted this. To be able to take my time, and explore,” He kissed underneath your belly button, his facial hair scratching gently on the sensitive skin, “Every…” his hands slid down to grasp the belt loops of your trousers, and the waistband of your underwear, “Single…” He slid them both down over your hips, exposing your bare skin to him, “Inch,” He dropped down to his knees as your trousers reached your ankles, and he helped you out of them, “Of your body first.” He sat back on his knees, his voice sounding hoarse and choked again. “Look at you…”

Through the thin fabric of the blindfold, you could just make out the silhouette of him on his knees in front of you, a faint outline of his broad shoulder, a fuzzy outline of curly hair.

Your knees were trembling in anticipation, in fact your whole body was trembling as he just… admired you.

On his knees, worshiping you for the warrior goddess he believed you were.

His fingertips danced up your calves, your knees, grasping the backs of your thighs and then you felt his nose against your skin, his hair tickle your lower belly and then, finally, the press of his lips on your wet heat, but too soft, too gentle.

A ragged gasp emerged from your throat, and you lifted your hand back to his hair, pushing him closer, “Din.” You didn’t care how pleading your voice was, but you needed more than soft kisses.

A low chuckle rumbled against your sensitive bundle of nerves, and he nudged his nose to them once more before his hands tightened on your thighs.

The first brush of his tongue elicited a cry of relief from your lips, echoing with Din’s appreciative half growl at your taste, at how wet you were for him. He went in after that, dragging his tongue through your folds in broad strokes, like he already couldn’t get enough of you. “Shit, you taste...” he groaned again, burying his face further between your thighs, his tongue probing your entrance before sliding back up between your folds again.

You already couldn’t breathe, the moan getting caught in your chest and resulting in a soft, high whine and you leant into his touch, arching your spine. Letting your head drop back, you could do nothing but feel the hot stroke of his tongue, licking every inch of you.

He tilted his head back just slightly for a better angle, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shook again, aching as they held you up and trembling.

“Din, wait-” You reluctantly tugged his head back, then half collapsed back onto the bed, and Din followed you like a magnet. He remained on his knees at the edge of the bed, and hooked one of your legs over those sinful shoulders, allowing him a better angle, a deeper angle to devour you like he was starving.

He pressed his tongue flat against you, before sucking on your clit with an intensity that made the room spin. It was like he was pulling electricity through your veins, making every nerve stand to attention, wait for his command.

You dropped your back onto the bed, both hands fisting into his hair and your hips rocking upwards against his lips. There was an ache within you, you wanted to feel more of him, needed just a little more –

Like always, he read your mind, and mere seconds later, he was sinking two long fingers into you, curling them up exactly as he had that night. Exactly as he knew you liked.

“Fuck, Din-” You keened his name softly, hips moving to match the pace as he pumped his fingers in out, curling them up into that spot that he found so easily.

He heard every noise you made, every reaction of your body and adjusted his pace and pressure in response, tucking away your reactions so he would always remember what you liked the most.

His rhythm wasn’t perfectly balanced, but it altered according to you. He learned fast and made sure that every single action provided the best possible feeling for you.

And stars above did he do a good job.

That electricity and fire was curling tense in your lower belly, singing through every inch of your soul. You were so desperate for him, your body crying out for him so badly that he had taken you to that edge already. “You… Shit, keep going, just like that…”

Din switched pace so fast you didn’t register it at all. One minute, his lips were sucking at your clit, his fingers stroking you – and the next, his tongue was pushing inside you and his fingers were on your bundle of nerves instead, drawing rapid circles and figures of eight that made you fully arch up off the bed.

“Din!” You cried his name, your whole body crying his name actually. It just felt so good, so devastatingly good that you weren’t sure how you were supposed to not want to do this all the time.

Your back arched further, your fingers wound so tightly in his hair as you shamelessly rode your hips to his rhythm, chasing down your high that he was holding you above. You knew you must be hurting his head, but he didn’t seem to mind, if anything, it was spurring him on, knowing that you needed to hold onto something to try and contain the pleasure.

His hands shifted to your hips, not to hold you down, but to pull you in closer, so he could bury his tongue deeper inside you, his own moans and growls of pleasure vibrating through the soft flesh. His stubble and moustache scratched against your sensitive skin, and that in itself was herding your body closer and closer to the edge, dangling you over.

Words were beyond you, the hot press of his tongue inside your walls was something you could never forget, and as he curled his tongue upward, brushed against that spot and pressed his fingers down harder, light exploded across your eyes.

The heat of your pleasure seared through every inch of your body, taking over with a pleasant hum, rendering you almost helpless as his name fell from your lips again and again.

Din didn’t stop, working you through your orgasm with that same pace, until your hips stopped rocking, your fingers relaxed in his hair and you could see again.

“Fucking hell…” You mumbled the words, shivering as Din cleaned you up, soft gentle strokes with a husky chuckle.

He pressed kisses back up your body, allowing you to catch your breath but by the time he reached your lips, and you tasted yourself on his tongue, you were ready, needing him again.

And by the hard line of his trousers, you knew he must be too.

As soon as his lips touched yours, you kissed him with fierce intensity. Your hands roamed down his back, mapping over his scars and bruises, painting an image in your mind of the man you loved, bringing him to life in the darkness.

He groaned into your mouth as you slipped your hands between your bodies, feeling the tenseness of his stomach muscles, layered with a softness that showed his age – which you absolutely adored.

This man wasn’t some young, bumbling fool. He was mature, devoted, and you loved every single inch of him. And he had never been touched like this before.

Sure, he’d had sex – as you found out one slightly drunken night when you were asking each other questions – but you knew that it was just… a release. No touching, no armour off, maybe not even his gloves.

Who knows how long it had been since this man had been touched like this on his bare skin, with love and passion? You could easily guess it was the same amount of time as you – longer.

And… you were the first person.

The first person to feel him.

To lay your hands upon his skin and show him how truly magnificent he was.

Spurred by his gasps of pleasure and surprise, you roamed lower, over the happy trail and began palming him through his trousers and pressing your hand into the hard length of him.

Then, quickly, you slipped your hand inside his trousers, feeling the tickle of short, coarse hair and then you gently grasped him, fingers wrapping around his thick, swollen length.

He moaned roughly against your lips, sucking in a sharp breath and you pumped him a couple times and his hips jerked forward against your touch.

Your mouth watered at the feel of him, and you pressed your thighs together at the thought of him filling you, being buried inside you and coming undone…

You had never been more grateful for stopping in a town a few years ago and shelling out the obscene number of credits for getting a contraceptive implant in your arm.

It was something you didn’t really need to bother with worrying about, but sometimes, the lonely nights got to you – and you didn’t want to have to worry.

And now, you could almost get on your knees and thank the Maker for that stroke of luck, because now you would be able to feel him inside you, every ridge, every vein, every inch of him.

Din only moaned louder as you brushed your thumb over his head, catching the drop or precum there and he rapidly pulled away.

You had no time to worry if you’d stepped over a line, because you heard him working at his belt, the sound of metal catching like it wouldn’t release.

Din swore under his breath and you realised the fumbling was due to his fingers trembling, in anticipation and the result of what was about to happen.

Heart melting, you sat up, reaching out blindly and finding the belt yourself, “Let me…”

You managed to undo his belt, even with your eyes covered and pop the buttons on his waistband, all the while feeling Din’s belly rise and fall unevenly as he watched you.

It felt like hours, but maybe it was only seconds as you heard Din rid the rest of his clothes and climb back over you, one hand next to your head. His breathing was a staccato rhythm and matched your own as your entire body held tight and coiled like a live wire.

He lined himself up at your entrance, nudging the head of his cock against you and he swore again under his breath as he felt how wet you were for him again, soaked and swollen. “Shit… You... you really want me…” His voice was full of wonder and surprise.

He still couldn’t get over it, that he had this effect on someone. That he made you half mad with need for him and he could make someone, make you feel that way.

You wanted him, wanted whatever he could give you and you were happy with it. Lying there, teeth sunk into your lower lip, cheeks flushed and your body open and yielding to welcome him home.

It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

“Din…” Your whisper broke him from his reverie, and then he was pushing into you, his hand curling into a fist in the sheets next to his head as if to hold himself back from going any quicker.

He was thick, and you felt every inch as he slowly sunk into you.

You both moaned in unison as he bottomed out, and he paused for a second so you could adjust to him, a slight sharp sting there but it felt absolutely delightful.

You would feel this tomorrow, feel that you had finally been joined as one, finally broken down those walls.

A few seconds later, sheer delight coursed through you and you slipped your hand up to his wrist, curling your fingers around it, “Move... Maker, please, move-”

Din pulled out slowly, before jolting back into you with a force that felt like your very spine would dissolve into nothingness. He felt so good, so perfect inside you and if you had any doubt that soulmates existed, it was gone now. It was like you were made for each other, slotting into one another souls and lives perfectly.

He started a slow, building rhythm, dropping his head into your neck to suck at the skin, rocking his hips into yours, “You have no idea how good you feel, sweetheart.” His words were a tight whisper into your neck, and you could feel the tense, rigid line of the muscles in his wrists from his clenched fist. He was still holding back, still afraid to hurt you or push you too far.

You tilted your head into his hair, your words clear, if not a little high with need, “Let go. Din, stop holding back – please, you won’t hurt me. You won’t scare me.” Fuck, you needed this just as much as he did. You didn’t want slow and gentle. You didn’t want to keep dancing around each other. It had been too long, and you had wasted far too much time trying to hold back in front of the other.

He was still hesitating, still unsure so you took initiative, hooking one of your legs around his waist and pressing the heel of your foot into his lower back to further emphasise your point. The angle opened you deeper, made him sink a little further in so you clenched around him, tight.

Din choked a little into your neck, his resolve breaking and then he lifted his head, grabbing your knee for grip and then he really began to move.

He snapped his hips faster, every few thrusts slowing down to push all the way into you, to hit that spot he was so acquainted with until you shouted his name, a prayer and a plea in one. “Fuck, sweetheart – you look… so beautiful, so fucking beautiful-” He moaned the words, watching you arch under him, your hips moving in tandem to match his pace thrust for thrust.

He dropped his head back to your chest, kissing and sucking at your breasts and nipples, adding new sparks of pleasure along with the deep fire of him pounding in you.

It wasn’t rough, not at all but it was raw, intense, your bodies syncing and moving with each other in a new dance, saying everything that needed to make up for the past few months.

Time ticked past as you climbed higher and higher together, your moans echoing with Din’s jagged praise, your nails scratching lines down his back as he pushed up even deeper inside you, hitting places you didn’t even know you had.

You lost sense of where you ended and Din began and you felt the threads of your lives tighten around each other, saw the golden threads strengthen with each rock of your bodies, further and further as you both flew up and up, exploding into light and stardust.

Both of you fell apart at the same time, your walls clenching tight around him as he exploded into you, filling you with heat as his hips jerked and stuttered. You both rode each other’s orgasms out, drawing them on and on until you were both utterly spent.

Din pressed open kisses to your neck, his rough growl still echoing in your ear as he mumbled sweet nothings against your sticky skin, his body weight heavy and welcoming into yours, “You are so beautiful. So, so beautiful.” Again, and again, he whispered these endearing things, until he eased out of you, leaving behind an incredible sense of loss.

You lay there blissfully, catching your breath, feeling a delicious ache in your bones that had replaced the dull pain from the week’s ordeals – and drowning.

How surprising such a day ended like this.

Though you didn’t doubt you would be hearing about it later.

Din returned, flicking what sounded like a switch on the way back in.

You heard him kneel next to the bed, and then a warm damp cloth glide over your thighs as he cleaned you both up, before slotting himself against you in the thin bed, facing you this time.

You eased onto your side, curling up against the wall and his body, a sated smile on your lips, “I… That was…” You shook your head a little, unable to stop the huge grin on your lips.

Din laughed softly, a quiet, rough laugh that caressed over your body and settled up in your heart. “Amazing? I never knew you were such a cliché.” He tapped your nose playfully, and you could hear the grin on his lips.

You couldn’t help the slight ache to your heart, the longing of wanting to be able to see how beautiful that grin was, see it light up his face and spark in his eyes. But you would never ask, never even let the thought of asking pop into your head. You appreciated every single thing he gave you, and you were more than content with whatever he was willing to offer.

So, you shoved that thought away, and instead lifted your fingertips to his face.

“Uh, sweetheart, you’re about to poke my eye.”

Indeed, you felt the soft brush of his eyelashes on your fingertips like moths’ wings, and you mumbled a sorry before tracing the line of his eyebrows, up his temples and across the slight wrinkles on his forehead. “I told you to stop frowning.”

Din huffed softly at your teasing, his warm breath tickling your wrist.

You followed a path down his nose, feeling the gentle bump to it that added a new little unique feature to the blurry map in your mind. On your fingers went, over the hair lining his upper lip that you could still feel the ghost of between your thighs. “I like this…” You couldn’t stop the slight cheeky smile, your toes curling a little.

He chuckled again, his lilt to his voice letting you know that his smile had turned wicked, “Oh, I know. I tasted how much you liked it.” A warm lick of heat tickled in your lower back at his voice, and you shook your head adoringly.

Next up, his lips. Those soft, plump lips that should be made sinful. You ran the pads of your fingertips over them, then yelped softly as Din suddenly bit them, lightly and playfully. “Hey!”

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He didn’t sound sorry though, he still sounded like he was smiling, and you realised it was... the happiest you’d ever heard him.

You were about to say as much, when you heard him move and then suddenly, the blindfold was tugged off your head, disorientating you with the unexpectedness of it.

You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut rapidly, “Din! You haven’t-“

“Relax, cyar'ika. Open your eyes…”

“But-”

“Open them, princess… Trust me.”

Hesitantly, you opened your eyes the faintest slit, and you were met with… Darkness?

Opening them further, you realised why.

Din had turned the lights off on his way back in from getting the cloth. That’s what that sound was.

The entire room was swathed in darkness, only the faint glow of the control panel over his shoulder. It provided the barest silhouette of light, allowing you to see the slight outline of those ridiculous shoulders, and just about the edge of his ear.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you keeping that blindfold on… I… I know this isn’t… me… but… That way… You’re not kept out entirely. I could never keep you out...” His voice was a little rough, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart. This was the barest he’d ever been before you, the most exposed.

The amount of trust he was bestowing in you was almost heady. All it would take is one tiny malfunction in the ship, for the lights to come back on and then you’d see him.

You swallowed, your own heart pounding and you gazed in the general direction of his face, seeing him but... seeing none of his features at the same time. But still, to know he was right there, to feel his breath on your skin and see the tinies outline of him… it shattered you nearly.

“Thank you… I… Thank you. This… all of this... I can never thank you enough, Din. For everything you’ve ever done for me. For throwing away the bounty puck, for keeping me safe, for rescuing me… You’ve kept me alive far more than you know. You saw something in me and chose not to give up. And that’s more than a lot of people have every done for me, ever. When I’m with you… I feel safe. To be myself and… I feel like I could conquer anything, as long as you were there.”

You felt his hand snake to your waist, tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin.

“There’s so much I have to thank you for, so, so much I want to say to you. I’m… not always good with words… And it’ll take me time to… to open up fully but…” You shook your head slightly, all of the words tumbling over in your head, and you didn’t know where to start or if you would ever end. So, you settled for the four words that would be just enough for now. “I love you, Din.” Tears sprung to your eyes as you finally said those sweet words aloud, “I’ve loved you since I saw you in that alleyway, pretending you didn’t know me to keep me safe.”

Din’s breathing stuttered, catching over itself as he caught his breath. You felt him shudder a little as you mumbled the words, he had so longed to hear. He leant in, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, tender kiss that was so blissfully warm, so loving that it almost hurt. “You don’t ever need to explain yourself to me or feel like you need to tell me things. We’ll… we’ll work on it together, okay?”

Work on revealing yourselves to each other, bit by bit.

You smiled, breathlessly and teary against his lips, “Okay…”

It might have been hours later, but you were wrapped up in Din’s arms, your legs tangled, his arm over your waist and the other under your head – the bed was still extremely small.

You’d both drifted off to sleep now and then, in between the gentle kissing, the random conversations about Grogu and Duru’s mishaps or whether the best flavour of macarons was blue or pink.

But you were awake now, something floating around your head that was still there form a few days ago. Din was relaxed in front of you, his breathing even and deep, tickling your skin.

He had given up so much of himself to you already, even more so tonight allowing you to touch him, to see him in a way. And you loved him with every single fibre of your being, and... knew that he felt the same.

And… it was time.

You wanted to.

You wanted this.

Despite that, you still had a nervous writhing in your stomach, and it was a good fifteen minutes before you plucked up enough courage to speak, “Din? Are… you awake?”

His previously still fingers traced up the tattoo on your spine, “Mmm…” His voice was a rough hum, but you knew he was awake.

No more secrets. Starting now.

“I… I want to tell you something. About me… My past.” You bit your lip, fiddling with your necklace.

You heard Din nod against the pillow slightly, “Okay… Anything.”

Swallowing, you closed your eyes, like it might give you strength. “I want to tell you… why I have a bounty on my head. And why it’s so high.” Your words were a near whisper.

Din went very still around you, so quiet you might have thought he had gone back to sleep. Just before dread began to curl in your belly, the low rumble of his voice broke the silence. “I… I know what you’re going to tell me. And… I know.

At that, your eyes flew open, shock filtering though you, “What?

Maybe he misunderstood what you meant, or had heard another rumour…

Like always, he could read your mind, what you were thinking even in the darkness. “Sweetheart, I know.”

Previous| Next.

#soft sexy times for now because i have a smutty chapter written already that is utter filth #the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #din djarin #rogue

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multifandom-girlie · 4 years ago

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓

Imagine: “Could I request a Daniel Gillies smut like they are both at the comic con(they are both in the originals) and he is teasing her while he answers a question ? Or makes fun with Joseph and he says some dirty things.” Requested by @elijahspersonalwifeyyy .

Pairing: Daniel Gillies x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Words:

Edited: Yes

A/N: I apologise @elijahspersonalwifeyyy for the incredibly long wait. I’ve had this lined up to post but with coursework and writing so much at the same time, it’s made it difficult but I refuse to quit. I’m not a quitter. I’m also not a person to announce a hiatus. Either way, hope you enjoyed ! There is a lot to read I know but we needed a build up and this is one of my favourite comic cons ever, I wanted to do the before hand scenes either way so. Don’t forget to check out my new story “On The Way” !

All of us at the current moment in time were stood backstage waiting to be called on. I couldn't tell you how irritated I was when I went on after Joseph and then Daniel followed. They were both irritating enough to me together anyway but they were in a particularly annoying mood today and I was not prepared for it.

“The man who will break your heart and then rip it out and then probably eat it. Joseph Morgan.”

The whole audience cheered as he walked on and he waved quite casually as he did.

“The women who brings all men to there knees but still can't find anything better to do than drink wine. Y/N Y/L/N”

I giggled as I walked out and I saw the audience screaming and Joseph giving me a mischievous look.

“The brother with a suit for every occasion. Daniel Gillies as Elijah.”

He walked out, threw me a quick smirk and blew a kiss to the audience as they screamed. He pulled his chair out and smiled at everyone.

“Nice jacket.”

“Yeah. Give it up for this jacket ! Huh ? Out of a suit and into a smoking hot jacket.”

“I know right, the one time he's not wearing a suit.”

“Thank you. It was actually a gift from Y/N.”

“Aw that’s super sweet Y/N.”

“Thank you. It was actually a gift for our anniversary.”

“Really ? How many years ?”

“Seven.”

“and very sweet.”

He called the rest of our costars out and we continued on with the panel.

After the host had started the panel with a question for Julie and Michael, it was now a group question for me, Joseph and Phoebe.

“Uh now going to the show, we've seen Klaus and Lily and Klaus and Hayley kind of trying the uh co-parenting thing and it did not really go so well as we all saw. How is Klaus going to be as a parent now that Hayley isn't around and Lily and Elijah have reconciled ?”

As soon as the question was asked, we all turned to Joseph.

“Uh you know, before he alienated his whole family by toasting Elijah's girlfriend, sleeping with his wife and and and cursing the women he thought he was in love with um Klaus survived under this sort of umbrella of Elijah's protection and forgiveness I suppose and so Elijah was always a voice of reason and Hayley was always there to battle it out with him. So, I would say badly. He's gonna do badly as a single parent you know and I think he knows he's kinda messing it up but he's trying. At least he's trying. You gotta give him that. Even if he's warping the minds of his two daughters, one before she's even uttered a syllable and the other before she get's old enough to realise that Klaus and Lily aren't actually together you know like she’s thought for years.”

“Geez. So uh how are are Lily, Elijah and Klaus going to tell her ? Who's going to be the one that does it or will they all do it together ?”

I decided to answer this questions, being more involved with the story line of my children.

“I think that Lily will have to be the one to tell her and whilst doing so will definitely have to be quite cautious when telling Sofia, you know not only because she's only 7 years old but also because she’s thought of Elijah as her Uncle her whole life- and although that hasn't changed it's still going to be difficult since this latest revelation is that, her Uncle Elijah that she adores oh so much is now also 'mommy's boyfriend' or in more formal terms her step-dad. So I think she's going to be confused and it might be quite difficult for her at first but I think she’s mature for her age and that she will understand quite quickly that, Mommy and Daddy aren't together and that despite realizing that her mom was married to her uncle I think she will quickly appreciate the fact we told her because of her understanding personality. “

Daniel quickly leaned forward and spoke before the host could ask another question.

“The moral of the story is, don't sleep with your husband's brother. Especially when not using protection and then deciding to get back together with your husband before trying to force him to sign the divorce papers.”

The whole room suddenly echoed with loud laughter and I couldn't stop giggling myself despite being offended for my character. I hit his arm playfully. He grinned at me and rested his hand on my leg as the room calmed down and he slouched back in his chair a little.

“Very true. So, I mean he can always just compel a few dozen nannies but he does have Elijah there to help him co-parent you know not just with Sofia but with Hope. I'm thinking like shared schedules, late night feedings...Whose doing what ?”

“It’s like we both wake up and the baby is crying and it's like, are you going to get her or am I ? Alright, I'll get her.”

“Yeah no it's gonna be me. I'm gonna do the graveyard shift, I know that all to well. But we gotta remember too, Lily and Freya are going to be doing a large share of the work.”

“Oh yeah, they can do it. There you go.”

I giggled and hit Joseph in the shoulder for the comment.

“Sexist.”

“No, come on. Lily's already been through this twice she knows’ what she's doing and Freya's Switzerland at this moment in time, I think for both of us to be in there...I’m gonna stop talking.”

We all chuckled at Daniel's comment.

“Now we're going to go to audience questions in just a little bit but first I wanted to do something fun. I know it's not the holiday's and I know we don't have a big ass bonfire in front of us but I thought it would be quite fun if everybody kinda thinks about a wish for their character for the future, just throw it in the imaginary bonfire.”

“Well, I'm a human....so I just want to stay alive.”

“Good answer.”

“Oh I forgot you weren't a character.”

“I have wishes for everybody but I don't have a character.”

“I do wish for Julie that Supernatural Judge Judy becomes her next spin off and Exploding Ovaries is the title of Daniel Gillies' next memoir.

“A wish for Hayley would be that Hope can live a normal, happy existence. I think would be what she would want the most.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Thank you. That's it, I'm done.”

“Uh, I think for Elijah...I mean other than wishing that his girlfriend's wouldn't be incinerated or his wife doesn't sleep with his brother again...”

I giggled at Daniel's comment, despite his comment towards my character and spoke with Joseph, simultaneously.

“Oh, come on.”

“I'm not letting that one go easily. So, uh...I would wish for him. Oh man. I wish for him, I’m actually wishing for something dark, like I sort of would wish for...a great division between the brothers before reconciliation.”

“So that's how it's going to be.”

“So, my wish for Lily is um...to finally find that bloody fertility spell that she's been looking for, for centuries. So that her and Elijah can have children of their own which they want more than anything and move somewhere outside of New Orleans in a nice family home, away from the drama.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Uh, I wish everyone would just do what Klaus says because he's always right. He knows what he's doing. It's for the greater good. Come on. Get on board with his plans. Everything will be alright in the end. Not everyone will be alright in the end but everything will be alright in the end. Right ?”

“Um, I wish Marcel would cross over. No.”

“I wish for more of your cleavage.”

I couldn't help but laugh a little when he says comments like that. Even though it wasn't directed at me, I knew the double meaning behind it. Daniel has not taken his eyes away from my chest today. That's what breast feeding does to you, I suppose. When Daniel picked my outfit this morning, I was glad. I was going to wear some leather pants and a red blouse with some heels but he somehow convinced me to wear a dress. God was I glad, I actually listened to him. It was hot in San Diego summer heat and I underestimated a little when I decided on leather pants.

“Yeah. We gonna get some dollar bills. Let's see some ones. Tryna make some money out here. Somebody, put on some Usher. Slow jam. Uh yeah...”

“I have a twenty. What can we get for a twenty ?”

“Break it up. Break it up.”

“Make it into ones and let's make it rain.”

“If I throw loose change at you, can I make it hail ?”

“Alright, moving on. Next subject.”

“Um, Davina is a witch and I think it would be really cool if she could fly. So, whether it's a broomstick or something else...I still think it would be really cool.”

“That’s a good one. Um, mines pretty selfish. I hate shaving, so I wish we could work something in so Vincent could have like a huge beard.”

“I changed my mind, I want superpowers as well. Three one foot long, retractable adamantine claws from each hand please.”

”Why is the camera on me ? I wanna fly. I wanna see these guys fly. I want them charging up walls and...we don’t have the budget for that. I wanna see more vampirey stuff. Why am I wishing again ? I exhausted my wish.”

“You guys can make as many wishes as you want. This is your made up tradition.”

“It’s raining wishes on you.”

“Raining for your wishes.”

“God this is embarrassing.”

“T it up.”

“T what up ?”

“What do your need for a rain of wishes ?”

“What happens when it rains ?”

“An umbrella.”

“What ?”

“An umbrella, sweetheart.”

He closed his eye in frustration and dropped his upper half into my lap, whilst we all laughed at his slow mind.

“Oh shit. Umbrella. So sorry, so sorry.”

“The rain, the umbrella...”

“Dropping hints. Awesome, alright well let’s turn it over to some audience questions.”

“Hi, my name is Julia and first I'd like to say, I love you all. Especially Joseph Morgan and Danielle Campbell.”

“Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t worry, I love you Daniel.”

He squeezes my thigh and leans in to kiss my head. Before deciding to move his arm around my shoulders and hugging me into his side. I rested my hand on his thigh as I hugged him back.

“I love you too, beautiful.”

I blushed and smiled, whilst the audience all awed. Which prompted the red in my cheeks to darken. I sat back up straight and he returned his hand back my thigh, yet this time a little higher up and whilst stroking the fabric of my dress up my thigh.

“My question is for the whole cast and it is, if you were able to play another role...who would you wanna play ?”

“On our show ? Or just in general ?”

“Yeah. On The Originals.”

“I..I think I would choose Hayley. The Hyrbid female. She's a pretty cool character. Your welcome.”

“Um, I would play...Klaus. Mind you probably better but...”

“I don't wanna play anybody else, I wanna play Elijah.”

“I would play, Elijah....purely because it would be an absolute blessing to wake up that hot everyday and he's a pretty awesome character.”

He smirked at me and moved his hand further up my leg, his fingers now resting at the hem of my white lace thong. I gulped a little but held my composure. It seemed hat every time I complimented him, he got further up my leg and closer to my core. Like a game...and I was more than happy to play.

“If...If I had to absolutely play someone else uh, I would play Oliver because I just think he needs to be brought back to the show...and uh #saveollie. Bring him back !”

“Uh, I would play Elijah because I think I look damn good in a suit.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Buttoned up to the naval.”

“There we go. I know it's distracting for you, my body.”

“I cannot concentrate. I refuse to continue.”

“Um, I would play Genevieve. I thought she was a really cool character. She was a lot of fun to work with.”

“I see some Genevieve fans in the house, awesome.”

“Um, yeah I think I might choose Elijah too. I think uh, it's a really cool character that Daniel has created.”

“They both quietly believe they can bring more to the role, is what they’re saying. Not quietly, they're saying it to an audience of like three thousand.”

“Only because of what you've done with it Daniel.”

“Hi Guys, wow that's loud. I'm so sorry, my name's Marissa. First, I want to say Daniel I watched saving hope and your death killed me. I'm so sorry that you died.”

“Yeah, tell me about it ! I was gutted.”

He squeezed my thigh a little more and started making circles with his finger on the spot closed to my core.

“Oh my goodness.”

Yeah, oh my goodness indeed. He really knew how to make a woman feel good, without hardly doing anything...quite literally.

“Um, so my question is for Julie and Michael. Um, I was wondering...there’s so much violence on the show and so much adult stuff and I was wondering if the network or the studio has ever told you, 'No you can't do that’ ?”

We all started laughing in reply to the questions.

“Oh, we have a story about that don't we...Leah.”

“I don't wanna tell the story again.”

“There's things that we did that couldn't be shown.”

“So here's the thing about broadcast television is that, apparently you can decapitate someone, you can drive a knife into a vampires skull, you can rip out their heart, you can shove a pencil up their nose, you can stab them a million times with glass but when stimulating a sex scene...if there's any movement at all that one would define as thrusting...”

“No thrusting. Pull back on the thrusting.”

“A motion that originates from the hip.”

Charles decided to get up and share a demonstration of thrusting and everyone on stage started laughing and the audience started to scream. Daniel gripped my thigh a little harder, due to jealously. I didn't have to ask him what the reason was, I already knew. At the best of times, he was not a jealous person. He loves and trusts me and Charles a lot and he knows nothing would happen but when he's horny and in need of some attention...he does get jealous. Understandably so, I know because we both do. His pinky finger then started to stroke me, through the lace of my pants.

“It’s difficult because I don't actually remember thrusting being in the script. That was something the actors chose.”

“It was a creative choice. I mean, look at Charles...you would do the same thing. Also, let's not forget the originators of this little problem.”

The audience stayed silent, indicating that they weren't sure how to react to her last sentence. I leaned into Daniel and rested my forehead against his bicep in retaliation to Leah's comment. I couldn't stop giggling, despite the finger rubbing against my wet thong and the blush rising on my cheeks. Daniel was using his other hand to pinch his forehead, whilst chuckling.

“Come on guys, explain it.”

“So, what happened was we were doing the flashback sex scene of Elijah and Lily's wedding night. Daniel got a bit too excited and started to thrust a little and I tried hiding it by opening my legs a bit more.As I did, my underwear snapped because it wasn't as flexible as I thought. So, I had to pay a fine for showing too much skin because the sheets had come off of me a little and we hadn't realised. Not that it was much it was just a little side boob, still.”

“So, it wasn't the thrusting ?”

“No, ironically it wasn't.”

“Let me tell you. There was some excellent, simulated thrusting in those scenes. That was cut, per broadcast standards. While, I think in the same episode seventeen people got brutally massacred. It is what it is.”

“Some of the best thrusting. I hope it makes the special features.”

“Charles called Leah, for some extra rehearsal before hand.”

“Hi I'm uh Skylar. Um, I know that between you there has been a myriad of different supernatural creatures. Uh, Phoebe...I think you've been a werewolf, a witch and a mermaid. Uh, in really life...What would you wanna be ?”

“Well, I would say witches because witches don't have to turn on a full moon and they don't have to be like plagued by vampire...the demon’s of vampires. They can just have all the power and really cute outfits...and if I can look more like Danielle Campbell. I'll take it.”

“H20 rocks!”

“Thank you ! Well actually I-Im gonna say a mermaid then. Like, life is better under the sea and I think I would be a mermaid.”

“I don't know-"

“Merman ?”

“Merman. No, I...um. I'm pretty pervy...so I'd say like invisibility.”

“Um, so I'm not pervy at all unlike Daniel. I do think that Heretics are soooo cool though. Like, they can do magic and they are vampires but still have all those human capabilities...like procreation. So, yeah a heretic.”

His hand stopped stroking me through the lace of my panties suddenly and I instantaneously felt a cold gush of air race up my well-shaved legs and punching me in my core. I felt the frayed edges of my lace tickling my upper thigh, where they shouldn't be. Hinting that my favourite pair of thongs had been snapped. I turned to Daniel and narrowed my eyes at him whilst he just continued the panel, like nothing happened. His hand when back to it’s original position resting on my thigh, clearly in punishment for making a comment about his pervy answer.

“Nah, I'm happy where I am. You know, Hyrbid. Definitely not, invisibility. When I joined the show, I thought I was only gonna be a vampire so I was thrilled when I was a werewolf-vampire. I'm sticking to my guns.”

“I like being the token human. I'm just gonna like stay there. Create more mermen.”

“Season three, season of the mermen.”

“The next spin-off.”

“That would be so cool, let me be a mermaid. I would kill it .”

Joseph put his arm on the back of my chair, looking at me after I made my wish known to be a mermaid.

“You better not cum in the water.”

The entirety of the room ruptured into fits of laughter. Even Daniel, who had now moved his hand closer to my core again. Letting his fingers stroke my entrance. Meanwhile, I continued laughing...ignoring the feeling of my husband’s gentle and sensual touch.

“I’m blushing.”

“Hi, I'm Katie. If you were to go to Comic Con, on the floor. Is there anyone you would dress up as ?”

The first thought that came to mind was pleasing Daniel. If I said him there was no doubt he'd give in. The problem was, was it a risk I was willing to take...at a comic Con in front of three thousand fans and some of my closest friends.

“Daniel Gillies.”

Every one repeated my answer and whilst doing so I was discovering that I was unequivocally correct with my thought process. Sure enough, Daniel plunged his fingers straight into my entrance leaving me to deal with the resounding squeal that ripped from my throat. Causing Daniel to laugh at me, influencing Joseph to join in.

The final question had just been answered by Daniel and I was leaning my head into Daniel's shoulder to help with controlling the moans erupting inside me. The warmth in my stomach has just appeared as quickly as it vanished again, Daniel had stopped and chuckled at my irritated expression. Nevertheless, I got up and shoved my now broken thongs in Daniel's jacket pocket and waved at the fans with a bright smile on my face as we all walked off. We had just got out of the fan's eyesight when a hand delivered a hard slap to my barely covered assume cheek as this dress was so short. I span around and grabbed his wrist before dragging him further backstage, behind a screen next to the dressing rooms.

“What do you think your doing ? Playing around like that during a panel and then not even letting me finish ?!”

I didn't even let him reply as I dragged his face down towards mine and kissed him lustfully. His hands wandered down to my waist and clutched the already tight fabric tighter around me. The other unoccupied hand drove down to my ass and clutched it, allowing the skirt to rise up. Exposing the bare skin of my cheek. I used one of my hands to undo his zipper before pulling his dick out and stroking it. Clearly, he was eager because before I knew it. I was pressed up against the wall, sticking my tongue down his throat and moving myself up and down on his already hard cock. What we hadn't realised that the screen had moved, as Daniel had knocked it with his foot when walking to the wall. He pulled away and smirked at me.

“You told me we wouldn't have public sex after last time.”

“This is the last time Mr Gillies, I'm promising you.”

We smiled at eachother and kept going against the wall. His tip caused some tension when arriving to a depth he hadn’t before but it was a pleasurable one most definitely. The lips of my pussy enveloped his tip and he ran it through my drenched folds before deciding to plunge into me once again. I was about to scream and he knew I wasn’t good at being quiet when he fucks me so good. I clung onto him hoping it would relieve tha ache he’d created by filling me so good. He sat down on a chair that was sat in a chair of the little area backstage. Sitting down, allowed his thrusts to speed up rapidly and his face to rest in between my smooth and nearly covered beasts. He bit my hardened buds through my dress and caused a shive of please to shoot down to my core and promoting me to burst.

I then decided to let go and couldn’t help but let out a gratifying scream for him. I was coming down from my high and the screen pulled back. A man that looked about 40, eyed us disgusted and told us to move it.

“Well atleast I won the deal ?”

“Remember the deal we had ? If I was right about is having sex in public again no matter how much you denied that we wouldn’t. Your were very adamant.#

MASTERLIST

#imagines #the vampire diaries #the originals #to imagine #tvd imagine #tvd #the originals imagines #elijah mikaelson #daniel gillies x reader #daniel gillies has ruined me #daniel gillies smut

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angeli-marco-writes · 4 years ago

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Dean & Seamus - At Last

A/N - 1.8k word blurb I completely forgot I wrote. Bringing this out of the archives, enjoy.

Warnings - slight cursing and angst, fluff, mutual pining.

Summary - Years of tiptoeing around one another and hidden feelings come to a head when Seamus finds a stack of art beneath Dean's bed. At last, something might happen.

“Hey Dean?” Seamus calls, breaking the silence of the half empty common room.

The two of them sitting together on opposite ends of a very comfortable and very small sofa with feet entangled in a contorted knot is not a rare occurrence, and everyone knows that the two like to be as close as possible. Dean has a notepad on the arm of the sofa, artistic pencils on the coffee table as he sketches away to his heart's content, while Seamus has a pack of muggle cards, teaching himself card tricks.

“What is it?” Dean replies, glancing up from his notepad to meet Seamus’ sympathetic gaze.

“Do you still have that muggle magic book? This isn’t going great.”

Dean chuckles, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the heel of his palm, deep brown eyes twinkling under the dim light from the candles. The way he watches Seamus when he isn’t looking is with nothing but pure adoration, not necessarily the way that friends should look at one another.

“Dean?” Seamus calls, suddenly much closer than before, kneeling in front of Dean’s legs now curled beneath him without his knowledge of putting them there.

“Uhm, the book? Yeah, it's under my bed. Careful you don’t find a banshee under there.” Dean says jokingly, curving his arm around Seamus’ torso to bring him closer, discarding his art for a moment, savouring the sound of Seamus’ laugh like music to his ears.

He stops thinking, and just exists for a second, only able to do that when Seamus is so close to him, chests pressed together, hearts beating as one, breath mingling and all inhibitions lowered. If he had a little more belief that Seamus shared his crush then he’d go the final step, bringing their lips together for more than a fleeting moment. If only he knew that Seamus in fact felt the same, equally as strong, equally as lovesick and just as scared of rejection. So for the meantime, they stuck to their own personal affections.

“I’ll be back in a minute, and I’ll call you if there’s a banshee.”

With a fleeting kiss that Dean pressed to Seamus’ cheek, the latter had disappeared up the stone stairs to the dorms.

On his way up, Seamus finds himself thinking non stop of the way Dean’s soft lips felt pressed against his cheek. Not like they haven’t kissed before, but every time it excites him, still bringing butterflies to his stomach after four years.

Their first kiss was in a game of juvenile truth or dare in second year, where Seamus revealed he’d never been kissed, and Dean was then dared to kiss him. That was the moment, for Seamus at least, that he’d realised he was gay - or at the very least, not straight.

It was half way through third year that the two had grown accustomed to holding hands and sharing clothes, stealing cheek kisses and cuddling on the odd night. None of this changed, even now they’ve become sixth years.

Seamus throws the door open to the dorm and leaps across to Dean’s bed, forever more comfortable than his own. He lies over it, inhaling Dean’s scent that he’s so used to wrapping him up whenever he sleeps. Oak and paint. The strangest perfection. After a moment of thought, he pulls up the west ham blanket, the oversized knitted quilt that the two made one Christmas night when they got far too cold, and finally the red sheets so that he gets a better look beneath the bed, which just so happens to be crammed full of random shit.

“Bloody hell Dean,” he sighs with a gentle smile, lighting his wand and sliding off the bed onto the wooden floor, preparing himself for a search.

Seamus sits and sifts through piles of books covered in dust, albeit in neat piles and just about alphabetised (all much more organised than his own), and a couple of boxes before he finds their old magic book.

Just as he moves to put everything back in its place, he comes across a locked trunk of chestnut wood and gold edges. It’s triple locked by the looks of padlocks atop the built in securities. But Seamus can’t help thinking, what does Dean have to hide from him? He’s always said “what’s mine is yours”, and that they know everything about one another. What could Dean possibly be so ashamed of that he didn’t even want Seamus to see? Chuckling at the first immediate thought, he pulls the box out and peers through a crack. It looks like… old notebooks?

“Cistem Aperio.” he utters the words used to unlock the trunk, only to find out that the padlock is a fake one and that the box itself only had one lock. Maybe the faux measures were to stop the other boys finding it, and not Seamus, but once opened, he’s astounded.

Piles of notepads and sketch pads fill the border of the box, but what’s in the centre is the most disconcerting. It’s Seamus, on canvas, ten times over. All from different angles, painted with watercolour or acrylics, all at different stages of completion because on some, the pencil lines are still apparent. Sure, Seamus knows that Dean is a bloody good artist, and Dean’s asked him to be a model once or twice, but this is another level. And even though he probably should, he can’t find it creepy.

He turns over a couple of the older canvases dating back to the bottom one, a mix of acrylic paint and heavy pencil shading. ‘Seamus, 7th April 1994; I wonder if you think of me half as often as I think of you.’

His heart stops just for a moment. Does dean… no chance. No way, there’s no way that Dean fancies him too. He could have anyone in the school, why would he fancy his dorky Irish friend?

He takes out a couple of the pads, opening to reveal pages of sketches of Seamus. The two together, Seamus at the lunch table, by the lake, with other people or asleep in Dean’s bed. Just the sight of Dean’s talent makes his belly flip. The curved pencil lines, the soft brushes of his coloured pencils, the perfect shading wherever it needs to be in the different photos. Each one has Dean’s signature, a date and a title in the bottom right hand corner., but some are a little more smudged with, tears?

He grabs the most recent sketchpad and tucks it beneath his arm, going to open a note pad filled with dozens of poems and quotes, but the most common one hits him hard.

‘You have to let it all go. The way he kissed you, the way he smelled, the way he touched your waist and pulled you in. You have to let it go and you have to let him go. Because he’ll never love you that way, he’ll always be your friend, and he’ll never be yours.’

That’s essentially all the confirmation that Seamus needs to realise that Dean’s liked him all this time. How could they have been so stupid, avoiding each other and never confessing?

He rips the page out of the notebook and runs out the door, the leather bound sketch pad bouncing in his clutch. He bounds down the stairs as ungracefully as possible, taking them two by two, his shoes resounding on the stone and hereby making a racket that the whole common room can here.

Seamus appears at the bottom, breathless and flushed as opposed to covered in soot, but his eyes are filled with a new flame.

“Dean,” he pants, eyes darting over to where he's curled up in the same spot as before, knees tucked under his chin with an art pad on the arm of the sofa, tucking his extortionately expensive pencil behind his ear when he sees Seamus all hot and bothered.

He stands, towering over everyone as he takes quick strides across the room, his breath hitching when he sees the sketchpad tucked haphazardly beneath Seamus’ small arm.

“Sea, please,” he begs, eyes brimming with tears to match Seamus’.

They stand an awkward distance from each other for a minute before Seamus takes the final step and closes the gap, gripping Dean’s tie and pulling him a little closer to his own height.

“Did you draw these of me?” Seamus asks with a raspy, trembling voice, filled with anguish and longing.

“Yes.” Dean murmurs softly.

“Did you write these poems about me?” he waves the tear stained page of perfect ink in front of Dean, making the taller boy swallow thickly.

“Yes.”

“Were you ever going to tell or show me?”

“Maybe one day.” Dean says guiltily, averting his eyes to the floor for only a second before meeting Seamus’ intense gaze once more, the flames behind the freckles on his cheeks a little intimidating.

“Do you, do you love me?” Seamus asks finally, taking a leap of faith, one that is finally reciprocated.

“Yes. Yes, so much.”

That’s all the ammunition that Seamus needs to tug Dean’s lips to his own, crushing them together and engaging in a fiery kiss of nothing but long awaited passion and love. Their tears dissipate as Seamus weaves his arms around Dean’s neck, and his curl around Seamus’ waist, lifting him up like he weighs nothing. Seamus deepens the kiss, licking along Dean's bottom lip to request an entrance which is more than eagerly granted, allowing them to explore each other's mouths finally. Dean lets out a muffled moan when Seamus bites down on his lower lip, the most heavenly sound Seamus has ever heard. Dean squeezes the ass that rests on his hips just for a moment before sliding his hands beneath his jumper, his dark palms running over Seamus’ milky skin, the perfect contradiction.

They become so enveloped in their bubble of passion, tongues dancing tantalisingly together, that they forget they’re in the common room, awkwardly withdrawing when the need for oxygen becomes too dire.

However, instead of the angry shouts and disgruntled faces they expect, it’s actually faces of sheer relief and lazy smiles all around.

“About bloody time!” Ron shouts.

Dean chuckles softly, lowering Seamus to the ground. The pair scrabble for their stuff, grasping it in uncoordinated handfuls, stuttering apologies before darting upstairs. Once at their dorm, they slam the door shut and throw their belongings elsewhere without a care, fighting over who gets to pin the other against the door.

“Have we really been dancing around our feelings since we were twelve?” Dean asks, trying to keep his focus on the time being while Seamus works tirelessly at the bottoms of his shirt, leaving kisses everywhere in his wake.

“Yes we have. And that means we have five years to make up for now.” Seamus quips, bringing Dean’s lips to his own once more, moving to enjoy their time together, at last.

#dean thomas #seamus finnigan #deamus #dean and seamus #deamus blurb #harry potter #hp #harry potter imagine #harry potter blurb #dean seamus #gryffindor boys #gryffindor #ron weasley

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neonlights92 · 4 years ago

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CHANGE: Chapter VII (Epilogue.)

When the feud between EXO and Bangtan escalates beyond control Bangtan’s leader Kim Taehyung sees only one solution: a marriage of convenience between a member of Bangtan and a member of EXO. Park Jimin was not born into Bangtan but has slowly become an intrinsic part of Taehyung’s trusted inner circle.

And that is how Jimin finds himself married to you; EXO leader Xiumin’s little sister. You’re not like any other woman he’s ever met before; fierce, angry and talented with a switchblade. When you first meet Jimin you’re left angry and disappointed.

Except slowly, things change. And despite yourself, you find your heart warming to the idea of falling in love.

A/N: I ummed and ahhed with making them pregnant by the end but it just... didn’t feel right for their story right now. This is the end of CHANGE. Thanks so much for sticking around aaaaaaaaaaannnnd Jungkookie’s next! ENJOY!!! “You can’t do this Jimin. You’re not ready.”

You felt your brow crease with worry at the look on your husband’s face. He was cringing slightly, holding the side where the bullet wound had only recently started healing properly.

“Y/N. I’m not going on a mission. Just to the warehouse.”“So? It’s only been six weeks, and the doctor recommended eight.”

“For vigorous physical activity,” He told you gently, “I’m only going for a meeting with Taehyung and Jin. I’ll be sat down the entire time.”

“What’s so important you need to go?” You felt stupid for getting angry - and you knew you were probably being irrational but still. You couldn’t help how you felt.

Jimin licked his bottom lip, “Taehyung wants to start looking for a wife for Jungkook. He needs my help choosing a suitable partner.”

It was so infuriating that his answer was perfectly reasonable. You knew this was one of Jimin’s most important jobs. Matchmaking within Bangtan was of the utmost importance.

You felt your chest tighten, “I don’t like this.”

“I know you don’t darling,” He moved towards you and pressed a gentle kiss on your nose, “But it’s time I started to adapt back to normal life, isn’t it? You can’t keep wrapping me in cotton wool.”

“Yes I can.” You answered stubbornly, melting at his closeness, “I never want you hurt again.”

“You’re being unreasonable baby.” Pet names had always bothered you before, but never with Jimin. He was so loving, so perfect, anything he called you was a blessing.

You sighed heavily, almost hating yourself for being so cautious, but powerless to stop it. Your feelings for your husband were so strong, you weren’t sure if this intense need to protect him would ever lessen - or if the ache in your chest whenever he kissed you would always stay.

“I just love you,” You said the words easily now, as if they were second nature to you, “And I don’t want you to get hurt ever again. Not like that.”

“I know sweetheart,” He stroked your face gently, “But I’ve got the boys with me. Hoseok would pull off his own fingernails before he let something like this happen to me again. But you can’t keep worrying about me everytime I’m not in your immediate eyeline.”

You knew he was teasing you a little, and maybe another time you might have even laughed. As it was, you only pouted.

He kissed the frown off your lips, and the crease in your forehead.

“I love you too precious. And I’m always going to come back okay? You just need to trust me, okay?”

You nodded, once, sharply. He was right.

“Okay Jimin,” You pressed your mouth against his own, “Just be careful.”

“I will.”

After a few more kisses he finally parted from you, and smiled warmly, promising to be back before dinner. You watched him climb into the car from the driveway, arms crossed and eyes tracing over his figure again and again, like a woman obsessed.

God. You loved him so much.

Two weeks later, a box showed up at your doorstep.

One of your new maids - Chaeri - brought it inside for you, leaving it stowed away at the back of one of your many spare rooms.

You forgot about it for a few days until finally you decided it was time to have a look inside. It had been addressed to you and at first you thought it might be things from your old headquarters. EXO had all but disintegrated since the death of your brother and perhaps after raiding their warehouses Bangtan had found something of purpose to give to you.

But you’d just assumed Taehyung would deliver those things himself, or at least give them to your husband. After everything you’d been through.

But when you opened up the flaps of the box and revealed what was underneath your heart almost stopped. It wasn’t things from your old headquarters.

It was your brother’s things. Xiumin’s belongings.

You recognised the snowglobe that had always sat atop his desk, and the leather briefcase he’d inherited from your father. Your chest tightened as your fingers ran across the items, each one bringing with it a fresh stab of regret.

In his final moments Xiumin had betrayed you like nobody else, but he was still your brother.

When the whole world had seemingly abandoned you, Xiumin had stood by you.

You weren’t sure if the bond you’d shared could be called love - perhaps it was hate that bound you together - but he’d meant something to you. Something sincere and perhaps affectionate.

So when Jimin found you a couple of hours later, sorting through your brother’s things and crying silently, he bundled you up in his arms and kissed away the tears.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” He whispered, when he realised what all the things scattered around you meant, “I didn’t realise what was in there.”

“It’s okay,” You answered, looking up into his soft eyes felt like coming home, “This is good for me. I can let it all go, finally.”

You spent the remainder of the afternoon sorting through your brother’s things, Jimin holding onto you for dear life, and taking care of you whenever things got too overwhelming.

And it was only later on that evening, as you were buried beneath your sheets, cuddled up to your husband’s chest that you realised something.

Jimin had made you a better person.

You were sure you didn’t deserve it. You weren’t even sure if he’d ever grow tired of you….

But there it was as clear as day.

He’d been your redemption.

He’d changed you.

“I love you, Park Jimin,” You whispered, as his arm curled tighter around you.

He smiled softly, gently, like he couldn’t believe you were his.

“I love you too Switchblade. Always.”

Always.

Forever sounded beautiful, when it was with him.

#love #fanfic #jimin #bts #mafia au #bangtan #arranged marriage au #jimin arranged marriage #jimin x reader #tsundere #smut #angst

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

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Headcanon - woes of your children

This work, 小朋友的碎碎念, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸

[ VICTOR’S SON ]

Sometimes, I suspect that I’m not my dad’s child.

It’s common knowledge (well, maybe not), that my dad is the manager and chef of Souvenir. Anyone who has eaten the pudding my dad makes will agree that his skills are superb, and I think so too. My friends at kindergarten are envious that I have such a gentle mum and a dad who’s incredible at making desserts.

But I think they have misunderstood the meaning of "gentle” and what my dad is really like.

I shan’t start with how my mum is always bursting with energy. Let’s start with my dad. He makes desserts frequently, and the house is often filled with the fragrance of pudding, souffles, cookies and little cakes.

But... they’re all for my mum.

Indeed, I’m unworthy of dad’s desserts.

“It’s not good for your teeth if you eat too many desserts,” says my mum while she eats one of dad’s desserts.

“As a man, you have to work hard to get what you want,” says my dad when I ask him for pudding. I admit that what he says isn’t wrong, but I just had my fourth birthday... 🙃

Normally, dad is very stern with me. He doesn’t let me sleep beside mum, doesn’t let me cry, doesn’t let me lose my temper at mum... It’s as though mum is dad’s child instead.

Actually, I think my mum is the true king of the house. She can get dad’s pudding, can openly challenge him, can act coquettishly with him, and has much more pocket money than I do...

Forget it, the more I think about it, the more I feel like crying. Looks like I should squat next to the dustbin and see if anyone would pick me up. I might be am definitely the most miserable kid in the world.

[ GAVIN’S SON ]

Dad says that boys will naturally want to protect the girl they like.

My dad is the Commander of Loveland City’s Special Task Force. He’s normally the type who’s cold-hearted and merciless, not even letting plants off. Sounds cool, right? But what his subordinates don't know is that at home, my dad is a henpecked husband.

Even the slightest frown from my mum causes him to worry for the entire day. Sometimes, when mum discovers that dad is injured, she’d cry until her eyes are red. Dad would repeatedly promise that he wouldn’t conceal any injuries from her the next time, and would kiss and hug her, oblivious that there’s a child at the scene.

Oh, I forgot to mention something. In my dad’s eyes, I have no standing at all.

The most precious treasure is always my mum. I don’t disagree though. After all, mum loves me very much, and I love her very much too. It’s only right that I protect her.

“When you have someone you want to protect, you’ll think of ways to make yourself strong,” dad once said to me. “First, you need to learn to sleep on your own, and not stick to mum.”

Although it does make logical sense, I suspect my dad has his own selfish reasons. But I have no guts to say it aloud.

Dad and I have agreed that next time, we’ll protect mum together. I said that when I’m all grown up, I’ll ensure mum can walk on the streets without worrying about getting disturbed by anyone or anything, just like what dad used to do.

After hearing this, dad asked where I heard it from - of course it was Uncle Minor. I watched dad make a call, arranging to meet up with Uncle Minor. After telling mum that he’d be gone for a while but will be back for dinner, he left.

So what exactly are dad and Uncle Minor planning to do?

[ LUCIEN’S SON ]

In my dad’s eyes, I might have always been an accident.

According to what I heard from the professor uncles in Loveland University, when my mum did a check when having me, the doctor said that I might be a girl. Back then, my dad had grinned so widely.

When he saw that I was a boy, his face was just as dark as how happy he was back then. I heard that before I was born, everything prepared was pink. Sigh, I didn’t realise that that was just the beginning of my route to more accidents.

Normally, dad looks refined and cultivated, and sometimes dotes on mum a lot. Why do I say “sometimes”? Because I’ve seen dad bullying mum, pressing her down on the bed. Mum even cried.

Then again, dad is a 180m man, and is so heavy. If he presses down on me too, I’d definitely cry too. Furthermore, mum is a girl.

Dad seems to turn a blind eye to my existence. For example, when we eat dumplings, he’d hold onto mum’s hand, and occasionally hug her and kiss her and things like that. I also want mum’s hugs and kisses...

He can’t even fold a dumpling properly. Even till now, he hasn’t learnt how to make a nice-looking one.

Normally, other people’s parents would address each other by name, or words like “wife” or “husband”. But my dad always calls mum “Little Butterfly”, “Silly Girl”, “Little Sweetheart,” “Greedy Cat”... It’s even more unbearable than how Torvald calls Nora “my little skylark” in “A Doll’s House”.

Despite my complaints, my dad is very incredible. He’s a university professor at such a young age, and even has a research centre named after him. Dad says that in the future, I have to do equally well or even better. I think so too. After all, I need to take care of mum in the future.

It’s pretty late, and I haven’t finished the test paper Dad prepared for me. I’ll stop here.

[ KIRO’S SON ]

My dad treats me pretty well. That is, if you ignore how he often makes me a scapegoat.

My dad is a widely known celebrity, so it’s necessary for him to manage his weight strictly. But my dad fails in this aspect. Quoting what Uncle Savin says, “Kiro, the only thing you know how to do is eat, eat, and eat!”

He doesn't eat alone though. He brings my mum along. That’s right, only my mum.

If Uncle Savin does a sudden check and finds snacks in the house, my dad would lack a conscience and assert that they belong to me. Although I’d feel maligned, I won’t rat him out.

Dad likes calling mum “Miss Chips”, and he says chips are a symbol to their love. But I’ve never seen other married couples eat the symbols of their love.

Apart from snatching snacks from me, he likes snatching toys as well. He’s always the one to open the presents mum gives me. He says it’s because he’s afraid I can’t open it given my young age. If that’s the case, why doesn’t he give it to me once he has opened it?! What a liar. 🙃

Everyone says that I look cute, and I think so too hehe~ My mum enjoys kneading my face and ruffling my hair. I think the only time I’ve won against my dad in my four years of existence is when my mum commented that I’m cuter than he is.

Every time my dad bullies me and doesn’t let me get close to mum, I’ll think of what my mum said. A man has a magnanimous heart, so I won’t hold it against him. When he’s 70 or 80 and balding, while I’m in my wise 40s or 50s, mum will definitely like me more.

Forget it, I shan’t hold it against him. Apple Box is barking at me to take him out for a walk. His golden hair really reminds me of a certain someone!!

[ SHAW’S SON ]

I think my dad and I get along pretty well.

He likes taking me out skateboarding, and I like it too. But if I were to accidentally fall and injure myself, my dad would be scolded by my mum, and I won’t be able to escape her wrath either.

My mum looks really fierce when she scolds us. Every sentence from her is stabbing. According to her, it was a skill she developed from bickering with my dad when they were younger. Thinking about my dad’s sharp tongue, I do agree that it’s a possibility.

Although my dad looks like a bad citizen, he’s really good academically. According to my mum, he was the only graduate student in Loveland University archaeology department at the age of twenty. He’s the teacher’s pet, a model for his male juniors, and the target of females... I digress. But back then, it was true that many people tried to woo him, but he was only interested in mum.

He loves giving mum nicknames, like “Liu Chun Mei or “Guo Xiaoyu", and "Qing Tingyan". I’m so glad my mum threatened my dad for the privilege to name me. I can’t begin to imagine if my name was coined by my dad, I’d probably be too embarrassed to meet anyone.

[Note] These are the fake pseudonyms Shaw calls her in the Chinese version. In EN, the pseudonym he gives her is “Mary Sue”.

My dad has a unique way of drinking beverages. According to the uncles in his band, my mum used to love drinking bubble tea. But eventually, her tastes got strung along with his strange ones. They’re both pretty compatible hahaha.

His taste buds aren’t the only strange things. His aesthetics are strange as well. Wearing Buddha beads with leathers gloves, a jacket with rivets... My mum says she kept his leather jacket when she was pregnant with me. But once I was born, he took it out again.

It’s 11pm, and dad and I have planned to sneak out to do spray painting on the streets behind my mum’s back. We’ll continue next time.

More translated and original works: here

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the source of the author

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin #mlqc lucien #mlqc kiro #mlqc shaw #cheri shortcake

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windforestsso · 3 years ago

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Any theories, headcanon or misunderstandings that got debunked or corrected later in the game?

I have few things I thought wrong. A lot I have probably forgot.

I cant remember any old theories, just headcanons and misunderstandings. Here is a list of stuff I do remember I got wrong:

Avalon is a woman: For the longest of time I thought Avalon was a woman. I somehow completly missed that he was refered to as a man for years. When I did that quest were Avalon later gives MC his old training outfit and it was pink and fit MC perfectly I was just more convinced he was a woman. I dont think it was untill the dream of frozen bodies that I finally realised he was infact a man. So yeah, very late.

Ms. Drake and Darko are sibling: This wasnt very long lived. I think it was Drake and Darko that just sounded similar enouth that Darko just changed his name slightly to be more sneaky. I realised quite quikly that it didnt make sense. First of all I have already seen the meeting they had with eachother and they didnt know eachother. And Ms. Drake already have a brother. I know you can have multible but it made me realise Darko doesnt fit into that family.

Elizabeth is blond: Not a big thing at all. But I just though Elizabets hair was dark blond. I also though it was blond because the soul rider of the sun was suppose to be blond. (Red is the color of blood and the one that heals, dark is the visions of the future and the rider of the past and future, sun goes down in southeast, she rides with golden hair and wings, the warriors color is that of leather and mud. Not the exact wordings, just simpelfied for this post) Her roots are redish but I just thought it was more suppose to be dark roots and it got ligher as it grows. The baroness said her good friend she is missing had red hair. I thought she ment Catherine, but people on tumblr said she was talking about Elizabeth so that when I realised her hair was suppouse to be red.

Kora is deaf: One of her hand movements when she talk looks like she is signing something. I assumed that because it might be bit difficult to make a completly deaf person sso made it so she could read lips and have learned how to mimic the words like some deaf people have done. And thats why she could talk to and understand mc. With Ranja I thought SSO just wanted to have some characters with disabilities to get some representation. It wasnt a long lived theory because no character mentiond it to be the case in the quest were you meet her. But I do like the idea that she maybe have a parents that is deaf or something that cause her to learn sign language early in life and so signed while talking without really thinking about it.

And few things that I didnt get wrong in SSO but in SSL and later got corrected by SSO.

Alex is a guy: There was a guy in my school who dressed like Alex and had long hair aswell. So when I first time saw Alex I thought of the guy is school. I never notice she had boobs. :/ I thought she was like the token guy character to make sure it wasnt just girls. I only had the first SSL game but few of the comic. But still never realised she was a girl untill I started to play SSO and got introduced to Alex again.

Janitor and Herman is the same person: They have the same body type. I thinks thats all to it. I never realised they werent the same character in SSL and I thought it was bullshit that Herman would supportive over Lisas magical adventures one second and then try to capture her the next. When I first played that part where you sneak into the school at night and the janitor is there. I just run right into the flashlight thinking it was Herman. It wasnt untill I started playing SSO and meet Janitor in the mall that I star questioned if that was really Herman. And then meet Herman in the jorvik stables and realised they are not the same character.

Jorvik Stables was attached to the School: I really thought the stables was the schools private stable. The school was way to fancy to be a public school so I thought it made perfect sense that it had a private stable. And thats why Lisa went there to learn riding because it was expected of her to be there. And beside. There was like only privetly owned horses there. It didnt seem like a normal riding school. It also ties in to why I thought Janitor and Herman was the same guy. I thought Herman was the schools groundskeeper or something and his job was to take care of the school grounds and horses. I run around like crazy around Jorvik stables in both SSO and Autumn rider trying to figure out which building was the school. Shocker, no building was big enough.

Fripp is a fox: Like come on!! He look more like a fox than a squrriel! He had a canine nose, not a rodent one. He still doesnt have a rodent nose even if it isnt as canin anymore.

#sso #star stable online #star stable #mina inlägg #sso avalon #Elizabeth Sunbeam #Sso ms drake #sso darko #sso kora #alex cloudmill #sso herman #sso janitor #sso fripp

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jaskierswolf · 3 years ago

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A Thirst Like Flames

Part 4/6 (1, 2, 3, - 5)

Ship: Gerlion - Rated: E (for smut) - Also on AO3

CW: (for this chapter only) canon-typical violence, animal death

Summary: There was an itch prickling over Dandelion’s skin, a constant ache in the pit of his stomach and his mind felt hazy at all hours of the day. He watched the sun creep behind the horizon, quill in hand, the long feather brushing against his cheek, willing for some kind of inspiration, anything to distract him from the never ending lust. He couldn’t help it, he was a young man in his prime and he’d spent the last few months in the wilderness with a rather gorgeous witcher.

Dandelion had forlornly watched Geralt leave the room, his afterglow sufficiently shattered even as Marie curled up next to him, her hands resting on his chest. He felt hollow. He hadn’t meant to say Geralt’s name, but the habit was hard to shake and, with the witcher watching him so intently, was he really to blame?

Dandelion sighed, his own fingers dancing along the length of Marie’s spine. She was beautiful and very talented at her profession. She hadn’t made any move to continue their activities once Geralt had left the room, which Dandelion was surprisingly grateful for. He wondered what Geralt had been thinking when he left. Did he resent Dandelion? Had he just ruined everything?

His adventures with the witcher were probably over before they’d even truly begun.

And yet, Geralt had reminded him of when they were due to meet. That had to mean something. He sighed dramatically and stared up at the ceiling. Sharing a whore had seemed like a great idea at the time but now he was really starting to wonder whether he’d irreparably damaged their budding friendship, he’d grown too greedy too fast.

“Why don’t you follow him?” Marie asked.

“Excuse me?” Dandelion stammered, blinking down at her. He hadn’t expected her to talk but he supposed he was being rather miserable company. Not at all up to his usual standards. He knew that whores talked, and he knew he had a reputation… and this really wasn’t it.

“Instead of moping in bed with me, why don’t you follow him?” Marie asked again, poking him in the chest.

“Ah, yes, well. I really don’t think that’s a good idea, my dear,” he sighed, eyes flickering back up to the ceiling. He scoffed haughtily and rolled over in the bed, turning his back on Marie. Yes, he was sulking but he was a poet and he was allowed to be dramatic, especially after he’d destroyed the best thing that had happened to him since he’d left Oxenfurt.

He heard Marie sigh behind him and that was the only warning he got before he was dumped unceremoniously on the floor. He squeaked as he landed with a thump, and he was sure he’d bruised his coccyx, he hoped that it wasn’t broken. He’d never broken a bone before but he was sure it couldn’t be more painful than this. He hissed and turned to glare at Marie who was smirking down at him, still looking as lovely as ever, and if he wasn’t so furious he would be tempted to go another round.

“Get out, poet,” she said simply, her tone leaving no room for arguments.

“Well, excuse me?” he gaped at her. “I thought…”

“The witcher is waiting for you, we’re done. Get out, before I call for help.” Dandelion went to grab his clothes, quite adept at getting dressed quickly before climbing through the window, but Marie stopped him. “Out!”

“My clothes!” he whined, only just managing to swipe up his small clothes before he was booted out the door.

He stared, pouting at the door, one hand on his hips and the other running through the mess of curls on his head. The door stayed shut, despite his silent prayers and he really didn’t want to face the witcher with no clothes on. He’d humiliated himself enough for one day. Before he managed to turn and walk way, the door finally flew open and his poor, very expensive, clothes were flung from the room and he had to scramble to catch them.

“Oh bloody hell!”

It was only when he’d reached the street below the brothel that he realised his precious lute was still inside. With a pathetic whine he turned to head back inside but the window above him slammed open.

“You forgot something, bard,” Marie yelled down to him and his eyes widened as he saw his lute in her hands.

“No, no, no, my lute! Careful she’s fragile!” Dandelion cried, dropping his clothes and stumbling forwards to catch his darling instrument as it was dropped from the window. By some miracle she didn’t break and he cradled her in his arms until he noticed the strange looks he was getting from the surrounding villagers. “Oh, bugger off.”

He scooped up his clothes and darted into an alley to get dressed. The sun had set before he managed to flee the town, luckily avoiding the thugs that were lurking by the gates. Having mud covered clothes had probably helped, he looked much less like the noble he was born to be.

“Blasted whore,” he muttered as he tried his best to brush down his clothes but they were a lost cause.

Dandelion sighed, adjusting his hat on his head. It would need a new feather, but he would look for one in the next town. For now, he just needed to find Geralt… wherever he might be.

___________

The woods were dark and unforgiving, nothing like the warmth of the brothel, but it suited Geralt’s mood just fine. He stared into the fire, watching the flames dance, licking at the air and swirling into nothing. The heat prickled against his skin, a comforting feeling that kept him grounded as his emotions brewed into a storm in his chest.

Dandelion had wanted him.

And Geralt had left him.

Roached snorted from the edge of the camp, stomping at the ground. Sometimes Geralt wondered if she was more human than horse, she certainly seemed to have opinions on every choice he made in life. He rolled his eyes and cast her a withering look. “I know, I fucked up.”

Her tail flicked and she whinnied loudly.

“I know, I’ll wait for him, even give him until noon. Gods know he won’t be up at dawn,” he sighed and turned back to watch the fire once more.

Geralt wasn’t sure how long he watched it, but a familiar scream pulled him from his thoughts.

“Dandelion?” he jumped up and grabbed his swords, making sure Roach was secure before running towards the sound of the poet. His brain was supplying images of the very worst scenarios, Dandelion cold and bleeding out on the ground, bandits or monsters looming over him.

And it would all be Geralt’s fault. He hadn’t been there to protect his friend.

“Geralt!” the poet yelled again, “Geralt help me!”

The world sharpened around him as he focused his senses, the sounds and smells of the forest almost overwhelming but he was skilled at blocking out what he didn’t need. A familiar lavender and chamomile scent caught his attention and he turned his head towards the vibrations of Dandelion’s heartbeat, the sticks and leaves crunching underfoot as he tried to scramble away from his attacker. Geralt sniffed, picking out the scent of wet dog among the trees, a low rumbling of growls filling the air.

Wargs.

“Damn it!” he cursed as he ran, his steel sword ready to strike. Time slowed as he burst into the clearing. Dandelion was on the floor, his doublet covered in mud, tears ripping through the fabric but Geralt noticed with relief that there was no trace of the poet’s blood. The rips seemingly from his rush through the trees.

Geralt’s sword swung through the air just in time. The warg yelped as steel slashed through fur. Dark eyes met golden, snarling and growling as it bared its teeth. The witcher and the warg danced a lethal dance, sword versus brute force, steel versus claws. Geralt tried to ignore Dandelion’s whimpering, focussing on the task at hand. Pirouetting, dodging, lunging, a blur of white hair as the final blow hit. His sword buried into the creature’s brain, and the warg whined as it fell to the ground.

“Oh gods,” Dandelion groaned, arms wrapping around his stomach. His face had gone a ghostly pale white, resembling the wraiths that haunted the realm.

Geralt squatted down beside his friend, cupping his cheek and brushing the matted blond curls from off his face. “You’re safe, Dandelion.”

Dandelion just sobbed, gripping onto Geralt’s armour, his long fingers scratching at the leather. It was so rare to see his friend so distraught that Geralt wasn’t sure what to do. He tentatively wrapped his arms around the poet, closing his eyes as he let Dandelion cry himself dry. Witchers don’t feel, it was the thought that had been plaguing him ever since he’d met the poet. Witchers don’t feel, and yet Geralt’s heart felt like it was bleeding, aching for the fragile human that he held so close.

“My lute,” Dandelion whispered, his usually soothing tenor cracked and hoarse. “Oh gods, Geralt my lute.”

Geralt frowned, scanning the forest for the bard’s instrument, but he found nothing. That was strange, the lute was normally strung round Dandelion’s shoulders or tucked safely away in their room at inns. Geralt gripped the poet’s shoulder, tucking a finger under his chin so that watery cornflower blue eyes were shining up at him, his bottom lip quivering and looking every part the delicate flower that he played.

“What happened, Dandelion?” Geralt asked with a cock of his head.

“I- I- I tripped, when- when I first saw it,” Dandelion choked on his own sobs, stammering over the words where he would normally be streaming poetic nonsense with very little effort. “The wolf, monster, whatever the bloody hell it was!”

“Warg,” Geralt answered without thinking but Dandelion’s answering glare made him wince.

“Yes, thank you, my dear. That is not the point!” Dandelion snapped, wiping the snot from his nose.

“I know,” Geralt said softly, swiping his thumb along the poet’s cheekbone to brush away the tear that had fallen. “I’m sorry, your lute?”

“I fell on it, shattered by my own hand!”

“Where is it?”

“Oh, does it matter?” Dandelion whined, waving his arms wide.

“Yes, now show me.”

They walked cautiously through the trees, Dandelion hanging off Geralt’s arm, sniffing as he went, and the scent of his misery permeated the air. Geralt knew they were close when Dandelion let out a pitiful whine, and his fingers gripped tighter onto Geralt’s arm. The lute lay splintered on the ground, the neck only attached to the body by the strings.

Toruviel’s lute, broken beyond repair.

Unless…

Geralt gathered up the pieces in his arms, ignoring the whines and cries from his companion as they walked back to camp. The lute was tucked into Roach’s saddlebags and they settled down for the night. There was a chill in the air but not enough to warrant sharing a bedroll, and yet Dandelion curled up close to him. Neither of them questioned it, content to hold each other close after the long and emotional trials of the day.

#the witcher #gerlion #geraskier #geralt/dandelion #geralt x dandelion #wolfie's witcher writing

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onlydreamofmysoul · 4 years ago

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Let Them Eat Cake Part V

Hey guys! Sorry for the delay with this chapter, but this one is a long one so I hope that makes up for it!

Tonight on The Great British Bake Off…

“It’s all burned!”

“Oh my god, I forgot to put them in.”

“It’s all curdled. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Remus woke up that morning with a bitter taste in his mouth. That was happening a lot lately. He got ready in a series of mechanic motions, showering, dressing, brushing his teeth. He met Lily outside the hotel, and she being the magical being that she was, had a coffee in a take-away cup ready for him.

“Hey,” She said softly. “You ready for today?”

Remus bit the inside of his cheek. “I suppose I’ll have to be.”

Six days earlier...

“Take a walk with me?” Sirius asked and Remus nodded his affirmations. As if he could say no. He followed Sirius out of the tent and they started strolling in the opposite direction of the hotel, avoiding the crowds of the bakers and crew packing up for the day.

“So you made it.” Sirius said after a moment or two of silence. Remus sneaked a peek at the other man out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah,” He said scratching the back of his neck. “If I had gone home I’m not sure if I ever would have been able to eat chocolate again, and that would be a big problem since I think it’s my main food group.”

Sirius burst out laughing and Remus blushed a little, pleased. They were well out of ear shot of anyone else, almost out of sight too. There was a massive oak tree in the middle of an open field and Sirius stepped onto the grass grinning.

“C’mere, I found a cool spot.”

Remus bit down a smile as he followed him, taking a breath in when they rounded the wide trunk and found a wide swing hanging from a branch, the trunk of the tree completely shielding them from view.

“This is amazing.” Remus said, reaching out to touch the rope, running his fingers over the wooden planks forming a seat. “When did you find this place?”

Sirius shrugged and sat on one side of it, the swing tilting ever so slightly with the imbalance. “Some time in the first few days.” He patted the space still left open, “You gonna sit?”

“Who else knows about it?” Remus asked, rounding the swing.

“As far as I know… just me. And now you.”

Remus sat and the ropes evened out again. Remus rocked back and forth on his toes a little, the swing swaying soothingly with him.

“It’s brilliant, I love it.”

Sirius smiled. “Yeah, I thought you would.”

Today...

“Guys! Hang on!” Remus heard but before he had even turned around, someone crashed into him.

“Woah!” He exclaimed, stumbling a little because suddenly he had a bubbly pink haired woman on his back.

“Hi Tonks.” He said laughing, when he had recovered his footing. Tonks wrapped her legs tightly around his waist.

“Don’t let the cardigans fool you,” She said to Lily seriously, “He’s deceptively strong.”

Lily smiled, Peter falling in line with them. “I can see that.”

“Ooh! Bake Off love!” Marlene exclaimed, snapping a couple of pictures of them all together, Tonks still on Remus’ back. “These will be great on Instagram.”

“Oh great, now there’s gonna be theories of us dating.” Remus said dryly, even though he smiled a little. “What do you think our ship name will be?”

“Ronks.” Lily snorted and no one could stop themselves from laughing at it.

“Is it bad that I kinda like it?” Tonks said, still giggling. “Like it’s ridiculous but that's why you’ve gotta love it.”

Remus nodded and bumped their hips together playfully. “It’s a perfect fit for a perfect couple.” He teased, then ignored the slight pang in his chest, even at his own words.

“Wait, you guys are dating?” Peter asked, completely bewildered and Remus shot him an incredulous look.

“Of course we’re not, we’re just joking Pete.”

Tonks gasped, her hand covering her chest. “Are you saying you wouldn’t want to be with me?”

“Of course not my love, we would be spectacular.”

“You can see why I’d get confused,” Peter mumbled to Lily.

“But,” Remus continued, drawing out the word before quickly spitting out the next sentence as he laughed a little. “I’m much to gay for that.”

“Here, here!” Tonks cried and they joked all the way down to the set. “Semi finals next week, I can’t believe we’re here already.”

“Oh my god I’m so not ready to think about that yet.” Lily chimed in, Remus and Peter nodding their agreements.

Remus felt his shoulders tense as they entered the tent, but after a quick glance around, he realised Sirius wasn’t there. He probably shouldn’t be so relieved, he would have to see him eventually so really Remus was just prolonging the inevitable but you can’t blame a guy for wanting to avoid an awkward situation. He stood at his station, but turned around so he was leaning on Lily’s counter as they chatted. He stayed that way until the producers started yelling for everyone to get ready and he turned around. At some point Sirius had come into the room. Remus didn’t meet his gaze.

“Welcome back! This week on The Great British Bake Off… It’s pudding week!”

“For our signature challenge,” Sirius continued, “Our judges have asked that you make a bread and butter pudding.”

“Sounds simple right?.” James grinned. “The catch is, you have to make it with bread you bake yourself.”

“Your time starts now, ready?”

“Set.”

“Bake!”

Remus looked away from the head of the tent as quickly as he could, ready to have an excuse to not look at Sirius. Especially Sirius in a leather jacket. He gathered his ingredients and set to work. Bread and butter pudding. That he could do.

Six days earlier...

“So,” Remus said as he swayed them back and forth. “Here we are.”

Sirius smiled. “Here we are.”

Remus bit his lip for a moment trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to say. So, you like my mouth? You wanted to talk? Do you think about me the same way I think about you?

Instead he blurted out; “What’s your favourite cake?”

Sirius blink then looked at him with this startled but pleased smile. Like he was surprised by the question, but also like he had known Remus’ words before Remus even spoke them.

“Lemon meringue pie.”

“That’s not a cake.”

“But it’s still my favourite.”

Remus pursed his lips to hide his smile. “That's… sweeter than you usually like.”

Sirius’ small smile grew. “Correct as always. It’s less to do with taste and more to do with memories I guess.”

Remus tilted his head. “Yeah? What memories?”

Sirius laughed a little. “Inquisitive today aren’t we?”

Remus raised an eyebrow. His signature move. “Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?” He asked pointedly.

Sirius looked at him knowingly for a moment, but then shook his head minutely. “James’ mum used to make it every Sunday. She even taught me how, after I’d badger her to make more.”

Remus grinned. “She sounds great.”

“Sirius relaxed a bit, leaning back against the rope and tucking on foot under his knee. If Remus did it, he would have looked ridiculous and would most likely have fallen right off the swing and flat on his face on the ground. But when Sirius did it, the movement retained all the airs Sirius brought to the world, carefree, casual. elegant.

“So, how do you feel after this week?”

Remus groaned. “Can we not talk about Bake Off? I mean I love it and all but I need a break.”

Sirius chuckled. “That’s fair. I suppose I could use one too.”

“Yeah? What’re you gonna do?” Remus asked and it wasn’t until he said it that he realised it sounded almost flirty.

Surprise flickered in Sirius’ grey eyes and his gaze flickered from Remus’ own amber eyes to his lips. Remus tilted his head ever so slightly, tongue wetting his lips a little as his breath hitched and they were both leaning in, closer and closer until-

“-Remus.” Sirius said voice low, jaw clenching even as his eyes stayed trained on Remus’ lips. “We shouldn’t.”

Remus frowned, the spell breaking a little. “What? I don’t understand.”

“We work together.” Sirius said, sitting back once again and turning his head away. “It would be frowned upon.”

Remus looked at him in disbelief. “Who says anyone has to know?”

Sirius tugged on the tie in his hair and the dark waves tumbled down to his shoulders before he ran his fingers through it. “You’re looking strong for winning this thing. I don’t want anyone doubting your integrity.”

Remus shook his head in pure and utter confusion. “But Sirius, you’re not a judge. I don’t think it would even be possible for you to ruin my integrity.”

Sirius just shook his head silently. Throat tight, Remus stood up and took a few steps away. He looked back at Sirius and paused.

“What about everything you said? Sirius, I know you were flirting with me. And just forty minutes ago you asked me to come here with you. What happened?”

“I remembered.” Sirius said hollowly.

“Remember what?”

But Sirius didn’t answer. Remus waited, but the other man just stood up and walked away. Remus sat back down for a moment and put his head in his hands. How did he get here? This morning he felt sure. Now he felt… well he didn’t know what he felt.

He hung back to give Sirius a head start so there would be no chance of them running into each other. Then Remus stood up and walked back to the hotel. Alone.

TODAY…

“Fucking fuck fuckeroo I’ve fucking burned my freaking bread. Fuck!” Remus said as he pulled the slightly overdone loaf from the oven.

“Hey Remus, want to try again, but like… viewer friendly this time?” Marlene called.

Remus flipped her off but then gave her a thumbs up and went again.

“Oh no! I’ve burned the bread!” He cried and Marlene rolled her eyes.

“Remus Lupin I’m going to have you fired.”

“Love you too!” He said with a wink before turning back to figure out what the hell he was going to try to do.

“You’re awful.” Lily said to him as she took her own loaves out of the oven.

Remus shot her a wink too. “I know.”

In the end, Remus cut off all the crusts of his bread, knowing that it might slightly impede the structural integrity but at the same time… It was a pudding. They barely have any structure in the first place.

He whipped up his cream and added in some saffron, nutmeg and sugar then began making layers upon layers of bread and cream. He left out any raisins both because he hated them and he knew Dumbledore had a particular aversion to them and well he was willing to do anything to win a little bit of favour. He covered it all with another thick layer of cream, sprinkling the top with extra nutmeg and cinnamon.

He popped it into the oven and set his timer before asking Lily to keep an eye on his station for a moment just in case while he nipped off to the loo.

As soon as he stepped out of the tent they filmed in, he was hit with a wave of cool air and he breathed in gratefully - having several ovens in one space always led to quite a hot temperature in the tent. He splashed some water on his face in the bathroom and rolled back his shoulders. He didn’t know why he felt so… off. Okay he did, and that reason was the notorious Sirius Black, but Remus had decided from the very first day that he wouldn’t let anything get in the way of his baking. And here he was doing exactly that. He squared his shoulders and met his own eyes in the mirror.

“Get a grip.” He told himself and went back to the tent.

Apparently his little pep talk had absolutely no effect, because after burning his bread, he topped off the baking experience by burning the pudding too. It was beginning to look like another stellar baking week for Remus.

“It’s a bit dark.” McGonagall commented as she dolled out a serving for both herself and Dumbledore.

‘Yeah no shit’ Remus wanted to say. Instead he just nodded his head.

“Even with the cream, the bread is a little dry.” Dumbledore said after taking a bite. Remus clenched his jaw, frustrated with himself. “And it’s a little bitter from being in the oven a nit too long. Overall, not your best work Mr Lupin.”

Remus sat down once more and found himself taking a shaky breath. That was definitely not how he wanted to start this week. He comforted himself by saying that he’d do much better in the other challenges. Nearly everybody else did quite well. The only person worse than Remus was Peter who had somehow, by laws unknown to Remus and possibly to science had managed to have quite a liquid consistency.

Remus went to lunch a little put-out but chatting with everyone never failed to cheer him up almost instantly.

“They could have drank it with a straw!” Peter moaned, dropping his forehead onto the table. “I don’t even know how! The cream was whipped so well before it all went in the oven!”

“Hard luck mate.” James said, patting Peter on the shoulder as he slid into a seat next to Lily. Remus didn’t miss the way they leaned slightly towards each other. He wondered if their story would end better than his and Sirius’. Even Kingsley had joined them, making Sirius’ absence more stark.

“What’s Twitter up to this week?” Tonks asked, peering over Remus’ shoulder as he pulled the page up.

“Um, let’s see,” Remus typed in the bake off tag and watched as all the posts rolled up. “They’re still weak for your hair Tonks,” He said and Tonks flicked her hair dramatically in response. “Oh my god there’s a twitter war.”

“Wait what?” Tonks asked, leaning in closer as everyone else gathered around.

“From the picture of you and me this morning. There’s people shipping you and me versus people shipping me and Sirius.”

“Oh my god, that is comedy gold.” Peter said, oblivious. Remus didn’t know what Sirius had told James, but he suspected SOMETHING from the careful way James controlled his face.

“I’m just gonna see where Sirius is.” James said as he stood up. “I don’t know what’s taking him so long.”

The pair didn’t return for lunch, the next everyone saw of them was when shooting recommenced. Remus had given himself a mental pep talk as he walked back to his station, consisting purely of ‘Come on Lupin, don’t fuck this up, you can do it’.

“You ready?” Lily queried as the microphones were put into position.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, you?”

“About the same I’d say.”

“Okay and we’re recording in three, two and one.” Marlene said, pointing her finger towards James and Sirius to indicate that they were rolling.

“Our bakers just faced their signature challenge and while they might not have liked it, I must say, it was my bread and butter!” James opened and Remus covered his mouth with his hand because he refused to have the entire nation know he was even mildly amused by that terrible pun, but Remus really was a sucker for them.

Sirius rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh my god Jamie, that’s bad even for you.”

“I thought that was excellent, thank you very much.”

“I’m choosing to ignore you now.” Sirius bantered. “For our technical challenge, our judges would like you to make six individual sticky toffee puddings, judges, have you got anything to say?”

“Be mindful of your vanilla.” Dumbledore warned and Remus bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing at the ‘advice’. It was always so vague, they might not bother saying anything at all.

“Alright judges, out you go,” James said ushering the pair out the door.. Sirius faced the bakers and grinned.

“On your marks,”

“Get set,”

“Bake!”

Remus turned around to Lily. “Be mindful of your vanilla.” He said in a very serious turn. Lily threw the cloth covering her ingredients at him. All was well.

James swung by Remus’ station a little while later. “How’s it going?”

Remus was just finishing cutting out little circles of parchment paper to line the bottom of the little pots he would bake the puddings in. He had already liberally greased the edges with butter and he just needed to pop the parchment circles in.

“Alright, I haven’t actually done any baking yet.” Remus said laughing. James grabbed the leftover scrap of paper and attempted to make some kind of crown out of it.

“Here ye, here ye!” Remus joked, noticing half the cameras in the room training on them.

“I think I should be king of the bake off Remus, what do you think?”

Remus nodded along solemnly/ “Oh yes of course James, your baking skills are incredible.”

“I can bake!” James protested.

“Sure, sure,” Remus teased, beginning to measure ingredients. “But if you’re the king of bake off, who will make all the terrible puns.”

James covered his heart with his hand. “You wound me Remus, truly.”

Remus chucked a date at his head, but James just opened his mouth and caught it.”

Remus burst out laughing. “Okay that was good, you can be the king of bake off now.”

“Why thank you.” James said before heading off to chat to Lily next, still wearing his paper crown.

Remus turned back to his baking and began mixing ingredients together. He was careful to split the vanilla pod and scrape the seeds into the mix. In the end he was pretty happy with his batter, and poured it carefully into his pots, being careful not to pass the three quarter mark as they would rise in the oven and he didn’t want to have them spill over the edge.

He popped them in the oven and began to start work on the toffee, measuring ingredients as he let the pot heat up. He tossed in the butter and sugar and stirred a little before making a cup of tea. He came back to his toffee-to-be a few minutes later to see he had left it unattended too long and it had all crystallised.

“Fuck!” He said, emptying the contents onto a plate and quickly starting again.

“Oof, they crystallised?” Lily asked, on her tiptoes peering over at Remus’ work.

“Yup. I have just enough time to go again though.”

This time, the devil himself wouldn’t be able to lure Remus away from his bot.

‘A watched pot never boils,’ He thought. “Yeah well a watched pot never burns either.” He muttered, aware that he would probably come across as mildly insane but fuck it.

“Are you talking to yourself?” A lovely lilting voice asked and Remus froze for a moment before continuing to stir.

“Yes.”

“Why?” Sirius asked

“Because I’m an excellent conversationalist.”

Remus knew Sirius would be smiling even if he couldn’t see him. He slowly added the cream into his pot, folding it all in nicely.

“Well I can’t refute that statement.” Sirius agreed and Remus almost wanted to tell him to fuck off because even now Sirius was so lovely and Remus wanted to turn and see his smile, except he knew it wouldn’t be the same. It would be purely for the camera and there would be no little sly glances or secret winks and that gorgeous sparkle in his eye would be gone.

Or was it ever even there in the first place?

Remus took the pot off the heat and let it sit for a moment as he took the puddings out of the oven. He set them all on a cooling rack and turned to start taking them out of the pots when he spotted six identical little parchment paper circles sitting on the counter.

“Oh fuck.” He whispered. He never actually put them in the pots. “Oh Christ. Oh for fucks sake.” He said running his fingers through his hair.

“What’s wrong?” Lily asked, coming over to him and resting her hand on his shoulder.

“I never put the parchment paper in, they’re going to stick to the pot and be ruined.”

“You greased it though didn’t you? That’ll help a lot, there’s still hope yet.” She leaned in close again and whispered, “And if they go to hell you can bump into Peter when we’re putting them on the table and pretend he knocked them over again.”

Remus chuckled and gave her a quick hug. “Thank you, now go away because we don’t need yours ruined too.”

“They’re not ruined!” Lily yelled back at him and Remus smiled as he dug through his cutlery drawer to find the thinnest knife that he could. Biting his lip in concentration he carefully ran the knife along the inside of the pot to loosen the sides, then he flipped it over quickly and gently eased the pudding out. There was a little bit of the tip missing but - it could easily be covered with the toffee so all in all, Remus was actually quite happy.

“One down, five to go!” He called to Lilly but also for the benighted of Marlene who was hovering nearby, cameras trained on what Remus was doing.

The second one came out quite well two and Remus was beginning to feel a spark of hope when the third one completely split in half - the top still in the pot.

“Oh shittttttt.” Remus sang to himself, trying not to worry too much. He just kept going, he could assemble that one later. The following three had the exact same result. Marlene was hovering around him, capturing the tension. Remus looked up and stared right into the lens as if he were on The Office and said “I jinxed myself.”

He managed to coax the top halves out of their containers and gently put them back together again. He drizzled a liberal amount of toffee over the tops before having a moment of inspiration. He grabbed the abandoned crystallised toffee and used it to decorate the tops of the puddings before transferring them all to the rectangular plate he’d be presenting them on, adding a little bit of toffee to the plate to help regain any visual aestheticism.

“Alright bakers!” Sirius called, “Your time is up. Please walk your cakes up to the table at the front of the tent.”

Lily walked up next to Remus and mimed ‘accidentally’ bumping into Peter and Remus snorted as he set his plate down behind his picture.

“You’re insane,” He whispered to her as they sat down on their stools.

“You love me though.” She quipped back and Remus grinned at her before the judges came out.

“Hello again bakers!” Dumbledore greeted. They chorused back a hello and then the judges set to work. The judges actually cringed when they bit into Peter’s dish and on the other side of Remus, Peter was quivering a little.

“Our tip to be mindful with the vanilla went unnoticed with this one it would seem.” McGonagall commented and Remus had to stop himself from looking at Peter to figure out what the hell he did.

“It would appear this person included their vanilla pod.” Dumbledore said, trying to hide his cringe. “For future reference, it’s the seeds inside the pod you eat, not the outside layer.”

Remus knew Peter’s face was bright red without even looking at him, but he didn’t glance to the side for fear of giving away who had actually made the cakes.

Remus’ were up next, McGonagall looking at them cynically. “The presentation is quite lacking I must admit.”

“Yes, they’re a bit messy,” Dumbledore agreed as he cut into one. They each took a bite, nodding solemnly for a moment. “They certainly taste good though.”

McGonagall nodded in agreement and just like that they had moved on to the next person’s work. Remus let out a deep sigh. It wasn’t how he had wanted it to go but… at least they had tasted good. He was still annoyed at himself for forgetting the parchment paper but he had to let it go now.

The judges were quick to decide this week. With only five contestants left and a tangible need to make it to the semi finals next week, there was a buzz in the air, at least it felt that way to Remus.

Or, it did feel that way until he came second last in the technical and suddenly he was seriously beginning to fear that this time next week, he’d be at home.

Peter came last. Tonks won; Kingsley and Lily filling in the middle spots.

Remus headed back to the hotel, talking quietly to Lily but really just planning his strategy for tomorrow. Considering his recipe. Mentally changing the flavours, then switching them back. The order he would make everything. If he should just head straight to the practice tent and make it one more time.

Lily wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned her head against him. Remus used to always look at people walking like this and think it must be so incredibly awkward, but this felt natural.

“It’s better to rest now then practice some more. You’re ready.” She said as if she could read his mind. Maybe after five weeks of being together every day, she could.

He smiled and placed a kiss to the top of her head, loving their friendship. “Thanks Lils.”

She peered up at him, those eyes vibrantly green, hidden slightly under her eyelashes. “Wanna make hot chocolate?”

Remus grinned as he put his arm over her shoulders and gave her a grateful squeeze. “That sounds like heaven.”

The next day began with the sunlight filtering slowly through the open windows as Remus got dressed. It was late enough in the year now that he woke up in darkness, but he always liked getting to watch the sun rise so it didn’t bother him. The air was crisp outside when he walked down with Lily and it felt like a new beginning.

“Let’s do this.” Lily said, holding out her fist as they entered the tent and Remus looked at her in mild amusement, but bumped his knuckles against hers lightly.

They set up their stations quietly, not having much to do, Remus just liked it organised slightly differently to the way the cleaning crew left it. Everyone seeped in quietly, the tension from yesterday lingering.

Marlene announced their start and suddenly they were off, James and Sirius bantering away with a familiar chemistry rarely found between two presenters.

“Welcome back for the showstopper challenge!” James greeted, Sirius grinning at his side. “Today our judges have asked you to reimagine a dish as a trifle.”

Remus remembered the first time he had heard that and thought it was a little weird, but he liked it. Back then he had planned to have a ‘death by chocolate’ theme but he changed his recipe last week. Lily was making a carrot cake creation that looked amazing. Tonks was wowing with a baked Alaska inspired dish. Peter had embraced chocolate chip cookies and they were featuring heavily in his. Kingsley was doing something with a lot of apples but Remus didn’t know many of the specifics. Kingsley wasn’t secretive, but he wasn’t majorly talkative either.

“You know Sirius, I once fought with a man over his multi layered cake,” James was saying vibrantly.

“Is that so?”

“Indeed. However I soon learned he was not to be trifled with.”

The light went out of Sirius’ eyes. “You’re fired.” He said to James in a deadpan voice and the entire tent burst into giggles.

Sirius sighed and turned to everyone. “On your marks, get set, bake!”

“Hey! We’re supposed to say that together!”

“Yeah well I fired you so it’s mine now.”

Remus couldn’t stop himself from chuckling as he set to work. Was he unsure of what was happening between himself and Sirius? Yes. Did he still have feelings for the man? Undoubtedly.

He immediately set to work making the meringues, those were gonna be hard to get done in time - they took two hours in the oven and then they had to cool down completely before Remus could do anything with them. He whipped the egg whites and sugar on high speed, until there were ‘stiff peaks’, the mixture was lovely and shiny and Remus felt like he was spooning marshmallow into his piping bag.

He made three circles of meringue, all the same size as his trifle dish along with a few little meringue kisses to decorate the top. He popped the trays into the preheated oven and set to work preparing everything else. He turned around to grab a tea towel and his elbow hit a glass bowl on the counter and it fell to the ground, shattering and leaving sparkling shards all over Remus’ station.

“Crap okay, can I get a brush over here please?”

A crew member helped him sweep it up as quickly as possible so he could get back to work. James sidled up to his counter as he started making a lemon curd, a suspicious grin on his face.

“I see you’re having a smashing time.”

Remus looked up from adding the grated lemon rind. “I thought you were fired.”

James just laughed and ruffled Remus’ hair in a way that if anyone else had done it, it would have annoyed Remus, but it was okay from James.

“I’ll let you get back to work.” And then he was off and Remus could once again focus. He looked down into his pot and nearly started to cry. It had curdled.

He stepped away for a moment, covering his face with his hands as he took a deep breath. It would be okay, he had time to make more. It just seemed like ever since Sirius had walked away a week ago, nothing had gone quite right.

On Monday, the restaurant made a mistake and gave Remus normal pasta, resulting in him being very sick for a while. On Tuesday, a pair of shoes he had long since worn in gave him blisters. Wednesday had him spilling tea all over his special edition book. Thursday he ripped a hole in his favourite cardigan and Friday Sirius walked into a room, saw Remus and immediately left. Saturday had been the signature and technical challenge and now he was here.

He jolted when a hand gingerly reached out and touched his shoulder. Light as a feather at first, barely the brush of fingertips but then the palm of the hand pressed reassuringly into Remus’ skin.

“Re?” Sirius asked. Remus heart soared and shattered at the same time. How was that even possible?

“I’m fine it’s just a lot today I think.”

“Do you want to step outside for a few?”

Remus shook his head as he turned to face Sirius. “No it’s okay, thanks. I don’t have enough time.”

Sirius’ eyes were conflicted for a moment but the next thing Remus knew, he was being pulled down into a tight hug.

“Sorry,” Sirius mumbled, “I should have asked first, it’s just you looked so upset and-”

“It’s okay.” Remus whispered, his mouth by Sirius’ ear.

He pulled away reluctantly, wanting to stay in the comfort of Sirius’ arms longer but very aware of all the cameras trained on them.

“Thanks,” He mumbled to Sirius, his face flushed. “I should get back to it.”

Sirius nodded and Remus went back to work, the presenter heading off to chat to someone else. Taking another breath, Remus began grating another lemon. It was time to start again.

Assembling the trifle was possibly Remus’ favourite showstopper to put together so far, just because of how simple it was. He placed a meringue disk at the bottom, followed by lemon curd, then repeated it twice, until his top layer was a bright yellow substance. He grinned looking inside the glass dish - he was really glad he chose to pipe the curd in, it made the lines much cleaner.

He placed the meringue kisses on top, then grated chocolate over everything and he finished just as James called time.

Remus watched the judges fall in love with Tonks’ amazing baked Alaska and beamed at the praise for his friend. Lily did very well too. Kingsley had a few problems but overall he seemed quite happy with his baking. Peter’s was only marginally better. And then it was Remus.

He walked up to the table at the front of the room, suddenly very aware of Sirius standing with James to the side of the judges.

“Remind us of what this is inspired by Mr Lupin?” Dumbledore asked as he and McGonagall took in the trifle.

“Lemon meringue.” Remus said, his chest tight.

Sirius’ looked up sharply, meeting his eyes. Remus nodded minutely.

They each took a helpful and took a moment considering the flavours.

“I’m impressed, Mr Lupin.” Dumbledore said. “I was worried the curd would be too wet and dissolve the meringue.”

McGonagall nodded. “Were you not worried that this might be a little simple for a showstopper?”

Remus shook his head. “A classic is a classic for a reason.”

McGonagall graced him with a very rare smile and for the first time this week, Remus felt like he had done something right.

They all sat on the stools a little while later, waiting and waiting and waiting while the judges took the longest time to decide yet this series. Remus knew it was down to Peter and himself. One of them was going home today. Remus just didn’t know who.

Peter had done a little worse than Remus yesterday, but had recovered a lot today. Remus knew he himself had also gained some ground, he just didn’t know if it was enough. He hoped it was. He feared it wasn’t.

James and Sirius emerged first, the judges next, none of their faces giving anything away.

“Today I have the pleasure of announcing star baker.” James said smiling, “For the second week in a row… Tonks!”

Remus grinned and kissed Tonks on the cheek as she was sitting right next to him. Both because he was proud of her but also to mess with Twitter a little bit.

“Sadly, I have the awful job of announcing who’s going home today.” Sirius said, nothing about him giving anything away. Remus’ heart pounded, he could feel his heartbeat in his fingertips. “This person has been a pleasure to work with and we’ll all be very sad to see them leave.”

Remus found breathing a little difficult. Would Sirius just hurry up and say it?

“Leaving us today will be… Peter.”

Down the line a little, Peter’s shoulders slumped and while Remus was disappointed for him, all he could feel was the adrenaline surge now that all the tension had melted away from his body. They all lingered in the tent for a while, congratulating Tonks and giving Peter their commiserations.

McGonagall came up to Remus at one point and spoke to him quietly. “Not your best week Mr Lupin.”

Remus shook his head. “No.”

McGonagall met his eyes. “You have amazing potential. I’ve seen you do great things, I hope I get to see them again.” She said before slinking back into the crowd. Remus blinked. It was possibly the most reassuring thing he had ever heard about his baking. He wanted to write her words down so he could keep them forever.

He was staying a little while longer.

Remus went straight to his room when he got back to the hotel, skipping the usual gathering they had after finishing filming that week as he was just exhausted after his day. He threw his clothes over the back of a chair in his room to be put away tomorrow and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, a thick pair of socks on his feet. He turned off the over head light, flicking on his lamp instead and just about to crawl into bed with his book when he heard the faintest knock on his door.

He frowned, a little wondering who it could be. Lily? No, she would be downstairs talking to James. Not Tonks, her knock was loud and vibrant. Peter was packing-

Remus opened the door and there stood Sirius, who’d also changed into cosier clothes, looking almost lost in the depths of his massive jumper. For the first time since Remus had known him, Sirius looked unsure.

“Can I come in?” He asked softly. Remus bit his lip for a moment before nodding and stepping inside.

Sirius gazed around his room for a moment, snorting at the clothes thrown haphazardly over the chair.

“You didn’t strike me as messy.” He mused.

Remus blushed. “I’m not, I'm just tired.”

Sirius turned around. “I can go?”

“No it’s alright.” Remus had a feeling that if Sirius didn’t say why he came here now, it would be forever forgotten.

Sirius looked at the ground, scuffing his socked toes on the carpet. “Have you ever read about people I date in the tabloids?”

Remus frowned and quickly ran what information about Sirius he knew through his mind. “No? At least, I don’t think so.”

Sirius smiled ruefully. “That’s because I haven’t dated anyone in a long time. Ever really.”

Remus felt his lips part slightly. “Ever?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I mean a little in school but I don’t know if it really counted.” He kept looking at the floor. “I mean, I have flings or whatever but I don’t date. At first I was too preoccupied with building a life away from my family. Then I was so busy, focusing on my career. Then,” His voice grew soft like he was a little embarrassed, “It had been so long I was afraid. I forget sometimes, when I’m with you. But then that day, I remembered.”

Remus didn’t have to ask what day. I remembered. Sirius had said it then too.

And it was so dumb of me but I was afraid of having you.” Sirius finally looked up at Remus. Grey met amber and all was right. “But then today I worried for a moment that I was going to lose you.”

Remus laughed a little wetly. “You make that sound like I nearly died or something.”

“Shut up I’m trying to be romantic!” Sirius protested, but his cheeks were flushed.

“Sorry.” Remus said, but he was smiling faintly. He reached out and brushed Sirius’ fingers with his and Sirius caught his hand and held it.

“But I realised I’m afraid of being with you, but I guess I’m going to have to get used to it, because I’m terrified of being without you.”

Remus swallowed, wetting his lips. “What… Are you.. Wait?”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah.”

A little smile danced on Remus’ lips as he took a step closer and lowered his face down so he could nudge Sirius’ nose with his own. “I guess we can be a little scared together then.”

Sirius’ eyes lit up and Remus was about to kiss him but before he could move, Sirius had surged up and pressed his lips to Remus’.

Remus melted into it, wrapping one arm around Sirius’ waist, the other removing the hair tie from Sirius’ bun to be tossed somewhere that would probably never be found so he could finally tangle his fingers in the inky black strands like he had dreamed about doing so many times.

Sirius kisses were just like his personality. Confident, purposeful, Remus thought as Sirius nipped his bottom lip and Remus opened his mouth for him. Strong. At some point, Remus backed into the bed, his knees giving out so he sat on the edge while Sirius just straddled him, never even breaking away. The pace was new and thrilling to Remus. A sweet caress of the tongue could lead quickly to a desperate clash of teeth and back again in just a moment.

“You made lemon meringue.” Sirius murmured against hips lips. Remus grinned and nodded.

“It’s your favourite.”

Sirius pulled away first, his chest heaving and his lips red and swollen, shining from Remus; own saliva. That thought alone had Remus chasing his lips for another taste. Sirius smirked but kissed him sweetly for a minute before pulling away and resting his forehead on Remus’ shoulder. Remus could just see those eyes he loved so much peeking up at him from under his ridiculously long eyelashes.

“So you and me?” Sirius asked. “We’re dating? I didn’t make that up, right?”

Remus beamed and shook his head. “You didn’t make it up.”

“Is it too early to ask to be exclusive? I really have no idea how this works.” Sirius laughed, pressing his face into Remus’ chest. Remus bent so he could nip the curve of his ear gently.

“No,” He murmured, “Well I don’t know how it goes that well either. But it doesn’t feel too early, does it?”

Sirius shook his head before lifting it and coming back to Remus’ level again. “You’re mine.” He breathed, eyes sparkling. He pulled Remus’ bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it gently. “I must be the luckiest person on the planet.”

Remus kissed him softly, pulling him against his chest. “I think that title is reserved for me.”

Sirius hit his shoulder playfully. “Sap.”

“Hey! You started it!”

Sirius giggled and kissed him again, tugging on Remus’ hair a little before pulling away.

“I want you.” He whispered, “But I’m tired as hell. Wanna, I don’t know, cuddle and shit?”

Remus smirked, patting Sirius’ thigh lightly so they could climb under the covers.

“Yeah,” He agreed as he pulled Sirius against his chest once more, tangling their legs together. “Let’s cuddle and shit.”

They fell asleep like that, a jumble of limbs tucked under the warm covers, fitting together like they had been made for each other. Remus had one of the best night’s sleep of his life, even missing the sun rising in the morning.

(But somehow, he didn’t mind).

#let them eat cake #let them eat cake chapter 5 #wolfstar #wolfstar bake off au #bake off #tgbbo #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Evans #James Potter #tonks #nymphadora tonks

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burntoutmatchstick · 4 years ago

Text

Are you excited to see me, or is it hypothermia?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31498151

Slightly AU-ish - Robbe and Sander have to keep their relationship a secret because Sander has just broken up with Britt. Everyone is in college. It's cold, but Sobbe is hot. Mostly just fluff and a little bit of smut.

“Robbe Ijzermans, you are the greatest person to ever walk the planet!”

“Zoë Loockx, you are drunk.”

Zoë laughed, her breath warm against the side of his face. She pressed her lips against his cheek and then pulled back, grinning. Her mouth was stained red, from her lipstick or that neon cocktail she clutched in her hand Robbe couldn’t be sure. Probably a combination of the two. The bar’s pulsating lights were reflecting off Zoë’s pale hair as she tugged on his arm.

“C’monnnn” she whined, face close to his ear again to try and make herself heard over the thumping music. “You’re here now, just stay for one drink!” She gestured to the other side of the bar, where a group of girls were waving enthusiastically at him.

He could see Amber and Luca beckoning him over. Yasmina was there too, and she caught his gaze across the dancefloor, rolling her eyes slightly with a wry smile as Luca began a series of... animated... dance moves beside her.

Robbe groaned. He absolutely did not need another late night; he was working an early shift tomorrow and he had two assignments due the next day. He’d only stopped by the bar in the first place to drop Zoë her forgotten keys, specifically so he could avoid waking up at an ungodly hour to let her into the apartment. But now that he was here, and if he only had one drink...after all, he hadn’t hung out with the girls in ages. He was just about to give in to Zoë’s insistent pull, when Amber stepped back, allowing Robbe a view of the rest of the group. Britt was with them.

He felt something sink to the pit of his stomach, and he planted his feet more firmly against Zoë’s pull.

“Zo, Zoë, no listen - I can’t. Really, you know I’ve got work in the morning.” He laughed at her pouty sad face, gently extracting himself from her grasp.

"Fine," she huffed, wobbling backwards slightly.

He laughed. "Are you going to be okay to get back across the dancefloor, or do you want me to give you a little push?"

"Asshole," she replied, flipping him off with a big grin.

"Enjoy the rest of your night," he said, suddenly very eager to be out of the suffocating bar.

Love you! She mouthed against the loud music, moving back into the throng of people.

Robbe stood on his tiptoes, waving goodbye to the girls. He tried not to look at her, but he couldn't help it, Britt was waving at him too. He shot her a quick smile, hoping it didn't look forced, and then ducked back through the crowd. He didn't know if it was his guilty conscience talking, but he thought Britt seemed sad.

It wasn't really his fault if she was, he tried to tell himself as he pushed his way towards to door, trying to avoid sweaty armpits and overflowing drinks. She hadn't been happy in her relationship for a long time before Robbe showed up, and it had ended before anything became too serious, Robbe had made that a clear condition. But still, there was definitely some hazy timing around who had done what, and when, and Robbe had definitely known enough to know better. Hell, his guilty conscience was the whole reason he was still keeping the best thing that had ever happened to him a secret; he didn't think it was fair on Britt to shove their happiness in her face so soon after the messy breakup. And also, there was a part of him that was scared, and ashamed of that fear, because once Britt knew they were together, Robbe knew it was only a matter of time before she put two and two together herself and had some realisations about that hazy timeline of who was doing what with who, and when.

He knew they'd have to own up to it eventually, because it was getting harder and harder to keep it a secret, especially when all he wanted to do was shout from the rooftops that he was desperately, passionately, fiercely falling for Sander Driesen.

And then, almost as if Robbe had summoned him, Sander was there. Robbe actually stopped short in surprise, almost tripping over his own feet. Had he really become that obsessed with Sander that he was hallucinating? It was a possibility, but no, this time, it really was Sander leaning against a door frame, leather jacket clad, drink held lazily in one hand, devil-may-care aura radiating around him.

Robbe simply stood and stared for a moment, taking him in, admiring the way his Bowie t-shirt clung tightly to his lean frame beneath the leather jacket, the way the lights danced against his white hair, reflecting the changing colour with every beat of the music. Sander's expression was amused as he bent his head to listen to whatever his friend was saying, Robbe watched as he rolled his eyes and laughed, almost spilling the drink he was waving around. Robbe could tell from the way Sander held himself, relaxed and slouchy, that he was drunk.

Robbe had known Sander was going out with college friends tonight, and Sander knew that Robbe was working in the morning, so they'd agreed to catch up the next day. Sander hadn't seen him, and Robbe knew he could slip away unnoticed. It was the smart thing to do, especially with Britt and their other friends in the same room.

He didn't move.

He'd spent so long watching Sander in this very way, from across rooms filled with other people, with Britt, untouchable, that now that he could touch him (and God, he couldn't get enough), it was almost impossible to walk away. And then, like a magnetic force, Sander looked up, through the pulsing room full of people and music and bouncing lights, and directly into Robbe's eyes.

Robbe laughed to himself as Sander struggled to work through his surprise. Sander's brow crinkled in confusion as he registered Robbe's presence, his blond head tilting to one side, before his face exploded into a dazzling smile that shot straight to Robbe's knees, filling his stomach with butterflies. Robbe was a smitten schoolgirl, and he couldn't fucking care less.

He watched Sander lurch unsteadily from the door frame, and away from his friend, who called after him in confusion. Sander didn't seem to hear him though, or just didn't care, as he made his way determinedly, if a little wobbly, towards Robbe.

Robbe followed suit, not caring as he shoved his way past people until Sander was in front of him.

The boys stopped, taking each other in with stupid smiles plastered to both their faces, before Sander said, "you're here!" and crashed into Robbe's waiting arms. Robbe staggered back against the force of Sander's embrace, wrapping his arms tight around Sander to steady them both. Sander had his head bent into Robbe's shoulder, but Robbe could practically hear the crooked grin in his voice as Sander said "wait, am I that drunk, or are you actually here?"

Robbe laughed quietly into Sander's hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and the beer on his breath. "I think you might be that drunk, but I am here too. Except not for long, I have to go."

"No!" Sander whined, twisting his hands into the front of Robbe's hoodie, pulling them closer together.

Even with Sander this close, their entwined bodies forming a little bubble among the crush of people around them, Robbe was acutely aware of Britt and the girls' mere metres behind them. This was not the way anyone was meant to find out, but especially Britt.

"Sander, we can't do this here." Robbe felt his heart twang slightly as Sander pulled back and looked at him, a flicker of hurt behind his eyes.

"Wha..."

"No - I don't mean, it's just that the girls and..."

"What, I can't hear you!" Sander shouted, as a new song began, and the beat kicked in again.

Robbe laughed at the confused expression on Sander's face and jerked his head towards the door. Sander nodded, so Robbe laced their fingers together, and began the task of navigating them through the swarms of people in varying states of soberness. It felt like moving through toffee - sticky, alcoholic toffee - but finally with one last tug, Robbe pulled both he and Sander free of the clutches of the bar and out on to the street.

The cold struck him instantly, a stark contrast to inside, and he pulled Sander closer to his side as he moved them both away from the people queuing at the door to get in.

Sander shivered slightly as they came to a stop, and Robbe looped his arms around the taller boy's neck, drawing them into each other's body heat.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear myself think in there," Robbe said, finally getting a good look at Sander away from the unnatural fluorescent lights.

The first thing Robbe noticed was that Sander was even drunker than he thought. The second was how goddam gorgeous he looked anyway, his eyes slightly hooded and unfocused, his lips glistening under the streetlights as he leaned against Robbe to keep himself upright. Robbe had seen Sander in a similar state before, after they'd....

Robbe swallowed hard.

"What are you even doing here, I thought you were meant to be sleeping?" Sander said, his voice thick and deep. He twisted his hands into the front of Robbe's hoodie again, his iron grip pulling them closer.

"Zoë forgot her keys, I was just dropping them off."

"Mmm, I'm glad Zoë is forgetful," Sander said. He dropped his head, and suddenly his mouth was at Robbe's neck.

"Sander, Sander wait..." Robbe gently pulled his head back, despite every nerve in his body telling him not to.

Sander froze, and looked down at Robbe, his face going blank.

"Don't you want to kiss me?"

"Baby, no - " Robbe laughed softly, unwrapping Sander's hands from his shirt, and pulling them up to gently kiss his knuckles. "It's just that - did you know the girls are here too? With Britt?"

Robbe tried not to laugh at the confused expression on Sander's face, heightened by his drunkenness as he tried to decipher the new information.

"The girls..." Sander said slowly. "...and Britt?"

"Yes," Robbe said, annunciating carefully. "Britt. Here. Britt is here."

"Fuck," said Sander with a sigh, though he made no attempt to move.

"My thoughts exactly," Robbe agreed.

They stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other. Robbe gave Sander's compromised thoughts a chance to catch up with their current situation.

"Wellllll...." Sander said, his slow drawl drawing out the word. "She's going to find out eventually..." and with that, he tugged Robbe closer, dropping his mouth down to that fucking spot again, that spot that even drunk Sander knew could get Robbe to do just about anything.

"Sander," Robbe said, except that it came out as less of a protest and more of a moan, and Sander responded as such, his own moan vibrating against Robbe's neck as he continued to pull Robbe even more firmly into his space.

Robbe wondered whether intoxication was catching, as Sander's hands made their way down and under his hoodie, cold fingers against his waist causing him to gasp. Sander lifted his head then, swallowing Robbe's gasp into his mouth as he crashed their lips together. Robbe could taste the beer on Sander's breath as his mind began to go blank, any thought of Britt, or the cold, or the time vanishing from his mind as Sander's tongue pushed clumsy but insistent against his own.

Suddenly, a group of girls emerged from the bar, their laughter erupting into the cold night air. Robbe jerked away from Sander as if he'd been electrocuted, putting a good three feet between them in a millisecond. His eyes scanned the exiting group quickly, and he let out a tiny sigh of relief when he realised he didn't recognise any of them. It was enough to break the spell, and Sander and Robbe looked at each other, guilt written on both their faces.

"Shit," Sander breathed out, his breath clouding against the cold air. He ran his fingers through his recently tousled hair and looked down at Robbe. "On second thoughts, I really don't want her to find out this way."

"Me either," Robbe agreed quickly.

They looked at each other, the thud of music from the bar bleeding out into the quiet between them.

"I'm going to tell her soon, Robbe," Sander said, his voice suddenly quiet. "I can't keep this a secret much longer... I don't want to keep you a secret much longer..."

"I know," Robbe said, giving him a small smile.

"The world deserves to know that I have a really hot boyfriend named ROBBE IZJERMANS!"

Sander shouted Robbe's name, and Robbe tried to hush him, laughing, as the butterflies erupted in his stomach again. He didn't think he'd ever get used to hearing those words fall so easily from Sander's mouth.

They started at each other a moment longer, but neither dared to breach the physical gap again.

"You should get back to your friends, and I should get to bed," Robbe said finally.

"You're right," Sander said, but he looked so miserable about it that Robbe couldn't help but laugh.

"You looked like you were having a good time before I showed up!"

"I was, but that's only because I didn't know what I was missing!"

"We can grab lunch on my break tomorrow?" Robbe suggested hopefully, but Sander shook his head.

"I have a better idea. Why don't I walk you home?"

"Aaah, maybe because your friends might wonder where you've gone, and also, you live closer to here than I do?"

"Both of these points are irrelevant in light of the fact that you currently have an empty apartment..." Sander said, raising an eyebrow, his gaze suddenly intense.

"You know, for a drunk man you make a lot of sense."

***

"Hurry up Robbe, it's fucking freezing," Sander complained as they stood on the landing while Robbe fumbled for his keys.

In retrospect, they probably should have taken an uber. It really wasn't a long walk from the bar to his apartment but adding a drunk Sander who couldn't easily move in a straight line and freezing temperatures to the mix, and, well...they probably should have taken an uber.

Finally, Robbe flung open the door and ushered them in, flicking on lights and kicking off his shoes as he went. He fumbled with the thermostat on the wall for a moment, cranking up the temperature. It took him a second to realise that Sander hadn't moved down the hallway with him, and instead was still standing by the doorway, struggling to stay upright as he did battle with his shoes.

Robbe laughed quietly. "Need a hand?"

He didn't wait for Sander's answer, dropping down to his knees to help yank off the offending items.

"I like the view," Sander said, his voice suddenly low and deep. Robbe looked up at Sander, registering his compromised position as something struck a chord low in his stomach.

"I'm surprised you can see straight at the moment," he said, finally releasing Sander from his Doc Martens prison.

"Believe me, there's nothing straight about what I'm seeing."

Somewhat unwillingly, Robbe got up from the floor, but before he could step back, Sander pulled him in close, pressing their lips together. It was at that moment Robbe registered the slight tremor to Sander's frame, and how icy his skin was.

"Sander, you're freezing!" Robbe said accusingly.

"I know! That's why I'm trying to warm up!" Sander replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You were definitely too drunk to walk home in this weather," Robbe said, pulling Sander down the hall. "Come..."

"I'm trying to," Sander said, with a mischievous wink which Robbe steadfastly ignored.

Robbe pulled the taller boy into his bedroom, closing the door behind them, trying his best to ignore Sander's grabby hands.

"Robbe," Sander whined, his voice cracking slightly as Robbe began pulling the blankets back from his bed.

"Jacket off," Robbe commanded.

"That's more like it," Sander said, ungracefully shucking out of his leather jacket and tossing it to one side. He reached for Robbe again once it was off, but Robbe was prepared this time, and quickly wrapped Sander in a blanket. Sander laughed, wriggled, and fell, pulling them both down onto Robbe's bed.

"Hi," Robbe said with a smile, his nose pressed against Sander's cold one.

"Hi," Sander answered with a content sigh, his heavy eyes closing slightly.

"Are you closing your eyes because you're tired? Or because you're drunk? Or because you have hypothermia?" Robbe asked, suddenly slightly concerned.

Sander laughed and pulled one arm out from his blanket cocoon, wrapping it around Robbe's shoulders."I'm closing my eyes because you're so beautiful up close, it hurts to look at you."

Robbe groaned and rolled onto his back, so he was looking at the ceiling, Sander's arm now draped across his chest. "Drunk Sander unlocks corny Sander, noted."

"You love it," Sander said with a laugh, and honestly, Robbe internally agreed.

They lay in silence for a while, their breathing slowing until it was in synch. Robbe was still surprised at how the simple act of just being with someone you cared so much about, without talking or doing anything, could bring so much happiness. It was still all so new, but he really didn't think he would get tired of this, of just existing in Sander's orbit. After so much time spent resisting its pull, he was so grateful now to just bask in the force of it.

They were quiet for so long that Robbe began to think that Sander had fallen asleep. He hated the thought that he'd have to wake him up again soon, so that he could leave before Zoë got home. Not that she'd care. She'd be happy for them, in fact Robbe was pretty sure she'd already guessed, but it wasn't fair to expect someone else to keep their secret as well.

They needed to tell people, and soon. But not right this second. Right this second Robbe could just soak in the warm glow of the lean, blonde boy taking up so much space in his bed, and even more in his heart.

"What are you thinking about?" Sander asked, startling Robbe slightly.

Robbe shifted onto his side so they were facing each other. "You," he said with a smile. "Always you."

Sander smiled back at him and craned his neck forwards to press his lips against Robbe's. They were much warmer now, Robbe noted with a happy hum.

They stayed that way for a while, gently kissing, Robbe peppering small pecks all over Sander's face to warm up the cold spots. Robbe propped himself up on one elbow, leaning over Sander's chest to press kisses to his ear, his neck. Sander laughed, and Robbe felt the vibrations in his throat.

Suddenly, without warning, Sander snaked his arms up beneath Robbe's and with a skilful manoeuvre, flipped them so that Robbe was lying flat on the bed, caged beneath Sander who hovered above him.

"How's the view from up there?" He asked Sander.

"Definitely not straight," Sander said, and his mouth was on Robbe's again, except this time there was nothing gentle about it.

Sander still tasted like beer, but Robbe didn't mind, as their mouths crashed together in a jumble of lips and teeth and enthusiasm. Robbe slipped his tongue out and traced Sander's wet lips, licking away the last of the cold evening. Sander sighed deeply, his eyes closing, head rolling back to allow Robbe access to his neck. Robbe obliged, his mouth insistent against the points that he was learning drove Sander wild. Not close enough for his liking, Robbe pulled Sander down. The force of it caught Sander by surprise and he crashed against Robbe's chest, their ribs flush against each other, hips meeting in a motion that caused both boys to gasp slightly.

"You certainly seem to be warming up," Robbe said breathily, as Sander ran his hands down his chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt and pulling. There was a jumble of limbs and fabric as they both wrestled with their clothing until finally, shirts and jeans were discarded on the floor, and they were pressed together again in nothing but their boxers. Robbe's mind was blissfully empty, filled with nothing but Sander, his taste, his smell, the feeling of him growing harder beneath his hand as he palmed at the front of his boxers. Sander's fingers plucked at the waistline of Robbe's own underwear, but Robbe put a gentle hand against his wrist and pulled it away, flipping them over again so Sander was on his back.

"You're the one that needs warming up," Robbe said, by way of explanation, one of his hands dropping to Sander's upper thigh, lightly tracing the hairs that painted a line up to Robbe's goal destination.

On cue, Sander shivered, but from the way his head fell back and his eyes rolled, Robbe thought it was probably from something other than the cold. He'd been so excited, so nervous, the first few times they'd done this, so worried about making sure Sander felt good. It was amazing how fast those nerves had been replaced with complete confidence; the noises coming from deep in Sander's chest as he squirmed beneath Robbe's mouth providing all the proof Robbe needed that he was on the right track. Robbe gripped Sander's thighs as Sander wound his own hands tightly in Robbe's hair, panting and gasping Robbe's name as Robbe's pulled him deeper and deeper into his mouth, until Sander was bursting, hot and fast over Robbe, leaving no doubt in Robbe's mind that he wasn't at risk of hypothermia anymore. Robbe didn't move until he was sure Sander was done.

"Robbe,' Sander moaned, pulling him back up to kiss him, deep and slow.

Robbe leaned down into him, and Sander, no longer cold, traced down Robbe's side until he found his mark. Sander took Robbe into his hand, not breaking their kiss even as Robbe began to pant jaggedly into his mouth. It didn't take long; seeing Sander come undone always pushed Robbe right to the edge. With a groan, Robbe came, gripping Sanders shoulders tightly as Sander moaned his name.

They lay panting next to each other until their breathing slowed, taking their time to come back up for air. Once Robbe had regained the semblance of a thought, he rolled away from Sander, feeling around for something on the floor. Sander whined at the sudden absence of warmth, his hands scrabbling weakly against the mattress, grasping for Robbe's return. He did, after a moment, pulling the hastily discarded blanket up with him and throwing it carefully around Sander, making sure he was fully covered before he dropped back down next to him, kissing him softly.

"No chance of hypothermia," Robbe said, his voice slightly raspy.

Sander sighed contentedly into Robbe's shoulder. "Nope. But there's now a very real risk of heat stroke -" he paused for a moment for dramatic effect, " - get it? Because you're so damn hot."

Robbe's groan turned into a laugh. "Oh my god, you're the worst."

"You love it, though," Sander said, eyes closing gently.

"Yeah," said Robbe after a moment, voice soft, his own eyes beginning to droop. "Yeah, I do."

#sobbe #sobbe fic #mine: writing #wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen

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undergrounddweller89 · 4 years ago

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(look you don't have to like this, I'm not expecting anyone to, I just needed to write and if there's the possibility that even one person was hoping I'd write more and enjoys it then that's cool, just don't be a dick about it, it's more house mate au stuff, don't hope for continuity by that I mean it's just all over the place and nothing makes sense , just expect what ever came to my head at the time lol)

Walter was sat at his work table, fiddling with one of his new devices working on to perfect it, no I can't think of anything specific so I'll let you fill in that with your imagination.

The day had been long, his lab assistant Timothy Lawrence (Yea that Timothy if you know him because reasons) had been pretty quiet but done as told so at least that made it easier.

He was tired as the day had gone on his mood had sunk, what was he doing teasing Killian like that, honestly spanking him with the hair brush, he knew some of the things Killian had been up to.

But it was more likely a sign of marking territory or just because he had needs right and it was exciting to do things where you shouldn't.

The blade he was handling slipped and ran across the pad of his index finger, he hissed in pain, seeing the blood smear under the blue latex, pooling to drip, focusing on the red colour he hadn't even noticed Timothy running to fetch the first aid kit.

Pulling his gloves off he discarded them and popped open the box that had been set on the table.

"Thanks Timmy."

Walter smiled a little as he tended to his finger, he hated how the skin felt parting every time he flexed his finger.

Cleaning up and applying what was needed, thankful it wouldn't need stitches.

He wondered what Killian was up to, watching TV, reading maybe, did he eat, did he have enough to drink, was he in a depressive mood, was he mad that hed spanked him, he really should send a message.

Pulling his phone from his lab pocket he texted him.

'Hope you're day has been good, hope you're well, sorry if I upset you this morning.'

He shifted and rubbed a shoulder, he didn't realise how stiff his back had gone, being in charge of a division meant he'd somewhat lost track of self care making sure to do his stretches.

Timothy stood here watching his boss, lot better than the last one, this one was kind and genuine, always looking out for people, honestly Beckett made him feel safe and relaxed, he wasn't looking for anything serious but even he could see that furrowed bow and the lean that spelt hey I'm exhausted let me die.

Walking around and behind him he slowly massaged his shoulders, they were small and rather petite for someone Walter's age but it was more lean muscle and just body build, he just hadn't seen many men like Walter where he'd come from, he was rather pretty.

Walter had considered telling him to stop but when his fingers pressed into that one perfect spot in his shoulder blades he melted, ooooh that just felt so damn good and shit when was the last time he'd had contact, had someone be closer to him...he liked Killian...wondered if they could be more, but he didn't believe for one second that they could be lovers or bed fellows for one moment...not that he wouldn't be interested in finding out but Killian had been there a month, like he wasn't going to make him uncomfortable and feel like that the only way he could stay was if he dated him.

(I keep forgetting times or how many days set shrugs just don't expect like decent continuity, I write these because I need to just write things and moments)

Walter leaned forward arms folded and face buried in them

"Sorry sir, am I doing that badly?"

Timothy's enquired nervously, his hands going still.

"No, please don't stop, I literally didn't realise how stiff I was, you have good hands, I'm just so tired Timothy, I could really use it if you don't mind that is."

"Not at all sir."

Tim smiled happy to know he was helping, yes much nicer than his last boss, Walter was smart but he was also fragile, like him he loved his mother and when he'd heard Walters mother had died when he was small he wanted to scoop him up and just hug him.

A talk with Lance at one point and he'd learned that was a natural reaction for anyone with a heart around Walter who didn't have their head up their ass.

Which had practically been the last tech department Beckett had worked in, that totally wasn't cool that they'd done that to such a brilliant mind, it was so much fun working on items that didn't kill people and actually helped them!

Walter was imagining the fingers loosening the knots in his back were Killian, wondered what that would feel like with those pretty metal claws, but he never forgot it was Timothy, after all Timothy deserved more respect than that.

Looking over his shoulder at him, auburn hair flopping off to one side, Tim's hands on his waist he noticed the subtle blush.

"You wanna go grab some dinner or something in a minute there's a corner café I know, makes steak sandwiches and baked potatoes with a perfect crispy skin, a warm meal sounds pretty nice don't you think?"

Tim in the angle he was in was trying not to think about how suggestive this looked, he would absolutely lean down and kiss Walter if he thought it was an option, it really was a casual thing he felt, but Walter just looked so pretty and like he needed someone to carry him right now.

Continuing to rub his back Timothy nodded

"Yeah that sounds pretty nice actually."

---

At home Killian had found plenty to do, he'd read, watched tv, all in Walters bed of course, just to feel close to him as he could, he did wonder after handling himself, if Walter could see him as anything more than a friend, someone more than a few passing jokes between the other...turning his head and taking in his scent as he buried his face into a pillow again, looking forward to seeing those blue eyes...he should really get out of Walter's bed and get the covers washed.

Beckett brought comfort to his mind after his years of suffering, the sunrise after the storm.

He'd talked to Lovey, wondering if she could understand him, she was surprisingly responsive to his rambling as he worked on his arm, updating the tech and keeping up with maintenence.

Living here with Walter and slowly working past things with Lance and seeing he had genuinely started changes of his own, it made it easier with how Walter talked about him on the job, that he considered all options before violence and discussed the situations with him...it was good to know Beckett had helped Lance to.

He was glad to know Walter's field partner was a good one, though his lab partner, this Timothy Lawrence seemed to be pretty chummy didn't he, he'd seen a picture, thick brown hair, heterochromia eyes, blue and green to be exact and a chiseled jaw, in other words a damn pretty boy and he didn't want him around Walter.

He huffed folding his arms, yes he was jealous he was going to be pouty, before his injury he had thick black hair and had been known to be a very handsome man, now he looked like he'd been put through a grinder when he took off his holo mask and this Timothy Lawrence just had to be Walter's lab partner, he'd be around him alot and-

His phone buzzed, it'd been put on the side table and he read the text that'd come through and there was another one.

'Going out to dinner with Timothy, don't know what time I'll be back, have fun you probably need a break from me anyway lol 😂'

Killian's eye twitched, he nearly threw the damn phone, but how would he explain that, honestly he couldn't, Tristan sighed, shoulders drooping a little and answered his questions

'It's been a relaxing day, did work on the arm, Lovey' s surprisingly easy to talk to, watched a little television but perhaps you could suggest something to watch, it's rather hard deciding with all these options and no Walter you didn't upset me, though you left in a hurry, you do not need to avoid me. You're not a bother. Are you alright?'

'I'm so happy you're warming up to her! That's awesome! Also it's good you have time to relax, ten years of hectic stress you're more than overdue! I...well I was more embarrassed than anything, I reacted on instinct, last boyfriend liked that well that's probably more than you needed to know, but yeah I'll help you pick something to watch see you later!'

Last boyfriend? Spanking, Walter had, he had...Killian shifted well the blankets were starting to tent, the idea of being put over Walters petite lap and being told he was a very bad man came to mind.

He liked it.

A lot.

He looked at his phone as it pinged again.

'And god damn it, make sure you eat something for dinner, don't just go picking out the cupboard!'

Killian snickered and replied

'Yes Daddy, I'll make sure to eat something.'

After sending the text he realised what he'd written and wished he could take back that text, wincing as he managed to look at the response

'Behave, eat dinner or I'll put you over my knee young man.'

Killian stared and stared at that answer, he knew Walter was just teasing but, his cheeks were warm and he was...was he blushing.

----

"You all set to go Timothy?"

Walter smiled, his back was feeling a hundred times better after Timothy had dug into the knots, it wasn't a surprise that he was good with his hands, you had to have nimble ones to work with the tech they used here.

"Yeah, just coming boss!"

He pulled his satchel over his shoulder after pulling on his old brown leather jacket

"Please Timothy don't call me that, call me daddy."

Walter laughed at how silly that sounded

"I'm sorry, pfffft don't call me that god please, no, Walter's just fine."

Tim had paused a moment a slight fear he might have a streak like his last boss after all but that laugh was too warm and giggly and just shook his head with a smile

"Wouldn't dream of it Walter, you're more of a kitten anyway."

Timmy felt his insides tighten a little and there was that hint of Jack Dna surfacing.

"So shall we go?"

Beckett enquired looking up at him, huh he kinda looked like Killian, just a little.

"Ready when you are."

And with that they were off.

(Alright end of this ramble, Timothy has been thrown in because I needed the gasp drama of prolongation and shit and didn't have the energy to create an oc and honestly I'll mash anything from anywhere if it's convenient bleh)

#Spies in disguise #Au #walter beckett #Killian #Timothy lawrence #I don't even know anymore #Sometimes I just write and bs comes out #I'm tired

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deobitchxx · 4 years ago

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Hi! Can I request for prompts 65 & 90 smut with hyunjae? 😳 thank you for writing! I just read some and I love your fics!

[ 10:25 // 19.09.2020 // R.SMUT ] “Thank you for paying your attention to my presentation, I hope the information I’ve told will lead us to a better and modern life.” The applause from the workers dominated the meeting room, causing your lips to form a proud smile. You took a peek over the young man that was sending you death glares, teasingly raised your eyebrow off and stuck your tongue to spice up the teasing. If glaring could be classified as another method of killing, you probably won’t see the next sun rising. Mr. Lee Jaehyun or preferably Hyunjae, your one and only rival in the rising company both of you were working in. He was the managing director, while you were the executive director. It pissed you off when you could entitle the latter title, but the only thing that blocked you from being promoted higher than him was because you were not the daughter of the CEO. Ugh, fuck those privilages. You worked your ass off to get into the top but your sweet dreams crushed into pieces once Mr. Lee, the CEO, informed the company about the new managing director, which later he introduced him as his son.

“Can’t you see the face Mr. Lee just made back then? You totally knocked him down,” your assistant nudged you on your shoulder. You smirked it off, “It was his fault to get on my nerves. This was supposed to be my project but his dick tried to brush in and thought that he could win over me. He should’ve known his places, I’ve worked here for years.” Your assistant giggled over your sentence and nodded along, agreeing with you. “Don’t you think you’re being over the top?” Both of your and your assistant’s steps paused once the devil appeared in-front of you with his assistant next to him. “Your ideas just happened to be an iota contrary with mine, don’t hold your head up too high my darling.” He raised his cup of coffee up, asking for a cheer. You simpered, looking pleased with yourself, “At least I’m not that stupid enough to ask the other managers the meaning of asset and liability.” You leaned closer to him and poured your tea to his cup, mixing the solution together with your pinky finger and licking it off. “Enjoy your drink, Hyunjae.”

“We’ll be heading off first, please don’t overwork yourself.” The workers under you bid a goodbye wave to you before walking out from the office. You waved back to them, leaning against the white coloured spinning chair of yours. You could feel your lids heavied, as you slowly close your eyes and drift to a short nap. “Here comes your favourite jjajangmyeon~” Your eyes lit up once the pleasing voice rang through your ear, seeing one of your favourite men walk past the door with your favourite food. “Cho Seungyoun!” Even your voice raised a few octaves higher, showing off your excitement to meet the latter. He smiled as he opened his arms, “Come here, let me give you a warm hug.” You chuckled and ran towards him. Before he could pull you into his embrace, you snatched the food away from him and totally forgot the man as you headed back to the small cafeteria inside your office. Cho Seungyoun, just like another typical k-drama, he’d been by your side ever since both of you entered the same middle school. He did make his feelings obvious to you, but you told him that you wanted to have a stable job first before proceeding to romance.

Both of you were chatting happily while eating the dinner together. You told him how proud you were that day and he listened to you without any complaints. He even stayed there for hours since you said that you wanted to stay a bit to finish up the last touch of the project. “I discovered that we still have chances to get your project accepted.” Hyunjae just came back from having dinner at the nearby restaurant with his assistant. He decided to stay a little bit longer and worked more, the desires to win over you still dominating him. He was heading to his office with the assistant and while walking past your office, he saw you chatting with the same man that had been wandering around the company. He stopped for a while, taking a peek over through the window glasses. Seungyoun went behind you and gave you a shoulder massage, letting out an approval short of satisfying moaning. “I heard that the man has been visiting our company a lot, never knew Mrs. Y/N was the reason behind all of these.” His assistant noticed the sudden pause of Hyunjae’s steps, realising he was watching you behind those windows. “Who is he?” “He? Oh, he is Cho Seungyoun. I heard that he invested a lot in our company. Some workers claimed that they’ve seen him around in lobby, and turned out he was waiting for Mrs. Y/N for lunch together.”

It has been days, but Hyunjae can’t stop thinking about that man that hovered around you. He even asked his assistant to do a background check on him. “Why would he keep sticking around her when they’re not official at all to begin with?” He groaned and threw his back against the leather chair, spinning the pen with his fingers. He thought he only had a slight crush on you, but not when he realised he totally fell for you. The way you always try to make sure you’re way better than him and how you get competitive everytime you hear his name-- Everything about you almost becomes imperfectly perfect in his eyes. He knew that everything will went downhill once he confess to you, so he decided to play dumb and act along as if he equally hate you too. He looked over the clock, it was showing 21:09. That’s it, he decided to make it clear tonight or else he might lose his chance. He stood up and wore his suit while heading to the door, right when he was about to wrap his hand around the doorknob, it was twisted from the other side as he automatically took backward steps to let the door open. There, he saw you standing with papers in your arms, “W-What are you doing here?”

“Did you forget that I need your signature for this project? Well, what can I even expect from someone like you.” You rolled your eyes, knowing that he won’t help you with those papers. You headed to the sofas and placed the papers on the coffee table. You took a seat on the sofa without waiting for his consent, immediately focusing on the project back. “Hey, at least do me a favour and close the door alright? You were doing nothing just by standing near the doorframe.” You retorted, seeing the reflection of his through the glass window that also displayed the night view of the city. “O-Oh,” he snapped back to reality and closed the door behind him, heading to the head couch and looked over you. “W-Where should I sign?” “Why were you shuttering? Do you just realise how good looking I am?” You joked. “Yes.” Your eyes lose focus on those words, your mind totally forgot which parts you read and which you haven’t. You looked up to see the man, hoping to get a “haha, sike, you thought you were beautiful?” but instead a pointed look by the latter. “We don’t have time to joke around, Hyunjae.” “In which part do you think I’m in the mood for joking?” He leaned closer to you, giving you time to push him away if he made you feel uncomfortable.

Instead, you just stayed there and waited for him to get closer until he pressed his lips against yours. He moved his lips on yours, as you closed your eyes and lost your grips on the papers. He held your shoulders and pulled you softly on the sofa, before his hands crawled back up to caress your cheeks. The dominance of each tongue drove him crazy, leading him to grab your buttcheek across the pencil skirt of yours, earning a moan from you and took this chance to shove and explore his tongue inside your mouth. He pulled away for you to catch some breath, but his kisses continued travelling down from your lips to your neck and collarbone. He was licking your skin and before he could proceed with his teeth sinking against your skin, you tried to speak in between the oxygen that you were trying to inhale, “Don’t be so rough, there can’t be any marks.” He narrowed down his eyebrow and locked his eyes with yours, “And what’s the reason behind it?” You bit your lower lips and looked away, not wanting to continue the topic that you’ve just started. “Are you worried that guy might discover what we’ve done tonight?” He stole back your attention as you stared at him, “W… Which guy?”

“That dude, Cho Seungyoun.” Hyunjae rolled his eyes, even his name sickening him. His expression obviously told you that he was pissed off, as you chuckled and shook your head. Your hand now went up to caress his cheek, rubbing those soft skin with your thumb, “Perhaps do you… Think that I have a feeling towards Seungyoun?” “No!” His eyebrows furrowed more as the quick response made it clear that he indeed was having such thoughts in his mind. You raised your eyebrow, asking for an explanation from the lie that the latter just told you. “Ugh, fine. Yes, I was. His presence around you made me go mad, I can’t help but to think that you might fall for him even in the slightest way.” The way he tried to stay on top of you with the arms supporting his whole weight on each side of you made you feel safe around him. “Then why would you kiss me?” “Because I like you.” You sense nothing but sincerity filled up his eyes. Both of you stayed quiet for a while as each other tried to read those messages through the eyes, as Hyunjae sat back on the sofa and his head hung low to the floor, fingers messily running through his hair. “You can leave if you want, we can just pretend that nothing actually happened.”

“What if I don’t want to?” HIs ears perked up but not daring enough to face you in this state of his. You sat next to him and held both of his cheeks, making him face you. “What if I feel the same way? What if we happened to have this love-hate relationship since the day we met?” You added, “Kiss me again like how you wanted to. Do what you’ve wanted to do on me ever since we’ve exchanged those glares but deep inside those hearts wanted something else.” With that, he pulled you into another heated kiss. This time, the kiss got more aggressive as touches on each other's bodies became bolder than before. He pulled you on his thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck and you straddled on his waist. His hand went down to caress down the exposed thighs of yours as you threw your head to the back once his lips went to your neck again. He placed soft kisses and licks all over your neck and collarbone while hand busy stroking your thighs. You pulled him to lean back on the sofa, taking off your blouse while the latter watched you doing so. You exposed your half naked upper body to the one that you used to hate a lot, as he licked his lips from the view before kissing your body again. His hands went back to pull down your bra skillfully, throwing it somewhere around the office and his lips went to your right boob. His tongue circling around your nipple as his other hand grasped the other, applying the same pleasure on it.

“P-Please…” “Please what, my love?” “Fuck me.” “I would gladly do.” With that, he gently placed you over the sofa as he almost cursed under his breath, “Shit, you look so stunning underneath me. Should’ve taken the first move early so I could witness such views longer for the rest of my life.” He pulled down your skirt, letting you only in your underwear. His finger made a contact with your covered pussy, spreading the wetness all over, “You are this wet just for me? Thank you,” he playfully smirked and left a peck on your lips as he hovered down to your lower body. His tongue left a long stroke across the covered slit, making you whimpered. He chuckled, taking off your underwear and sniffed it, “You even smell good,” he shoved it inside his back pocket before resting his lips on your cunt. “A-Ah!” You closed your eyes tight as your back jerked upward from the sudden contact, gripping nothing but air tightly. His tongue flickered against your slit, hands went to hold yours as the way you tightly held his hands made him realise that you were so close to reach your cloud nine. He didn’t stop though, as his nose brushed over your pussy and he started to suck your clit. “Fuck, I-I’m close… Ah!” Once again, your body jerked upwards after letting out the loudest moan while cumming on his face.

He gave you time to adjust with the pleasure you just earned, as he licked off the cum painted all over his lips. You took a short glance over him, beaming softly resulting in him to beam along. He pecked your lips and whispered against your lips, “Can you go for another round?” You gave him an immediate nod, not wanting to waste another time. He smirked under his breath, “Never know I could make you a hot mess underneath me. Seungyoun who? Stupid of me to assume that he could get a chance to fuck you. Seeing him touching and giving you a massage annoyed the shit out of me. He can’t make you feel this good.” His hands were busy unbuckling the belts and pulling his pants along with his boxer, exposing his huge manhood right in-front of your eyes. Stroking his hard length to spread the pre-cum all over, Hyunjae was staring you down with lusts filled his eyes. “No, I’m the one that’s supposed to be making you feel good.” Without wasting any seconds, he inserted his dick into your vagina, making you produce the most beautiful sound ever.

“Ahh H-Hyunjae!” Your hands gripped his biceps as he let out a whimper, biting his lower lips, “Fuck baby, you’re so tight. I don’t think I could last long.” The amount of his breath rising dramatically was equally the same as yours, as the pat on his bicep signalling to him that he could move. He pushed further more, fingers crawled up to grab the sofa armrest. Your hips moving along to match his speed, both of you working hard to chase the heaven both of you have dreamed of. “Ugh fuck, Hyun… Hyunjae. It’s there… Ahh,” he repeated the same sin, pushing his tip to hit the jackpot inside of yours. Your fingers went to his back, nails scratching as you accidentally left some marks on it. His thumb went to your swollen clit, circling to apply more pleasures for you to cum. “Ahhh, Lee Jaehyun!” Your wall clenched tightly around his dick and cummed on it after chanting his name like a mantra, as the latter moved his hips at an inhuman speed. “Ugh,” he groaned as he quickly slipped his shaft out from you, replacing your walls with the grip of his hand around his manhood, stroking it faster to chase his own cloud nine. He painted his cum on your stomach, lazily pumping his shaft before sitting on the sofa, leaning his back against it.

He took a peek over you, whose chest was rising up and down rapidly to even the breath, leaning to leave a soft kiss on your lips. “Rest for a while, I’ll go grab for a wet cloth for you.” You nodded, your lids were heavy as you almost couldn’t see the young man in your sight due to the exhaustion he just made to you. Hyunjae put on his clothes, went to the nearby toilet and came back with a damp but warm towel. He cleaned the cum all over your body and let your back laid on a warm cloth. “You left marks on my back, and it’s unfair how I can’t leave any on yours.” You giggled in a tired manner as you tried to look at him, “I was scratching and I didn’t know it left marks. Plus, why would you leave a mark on something that’s not yours to begin with.” He laid on top of you again, putting down the arm away from your forehead, “If I ask you out now, am I allowed to leave marks on your body?” You lazily smiled to the latter, “Whatever floats your boat, Mr. Lee.”

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years ago

Text

7.2

*** Incubus Keith prt2

Premise: Lance accidentally summons Keith

Scene: Working in a second hand bookstore Lance accidentally summons Keith who agrees to help him save his store in exchange for carrying his child. All the cliches. Lance is 30.

With Rachel being home, Lance made his escape up to his room. Closing the door behind him, a sigh of relief fell from his lips. No more fake smiling at least until dinner… The kids had their treats, his Mami had her bread, and he had a box of books to lose himself in.

Dropping the box on the bed, Lance flopped down next to it. Maybe he should get a puppy. Someone to keep him company as he hid himself away. Only, if he did, then the kids would get attached and the poor puppy would end up being for them and not for him… like everything else. As much as he loved his family, it was infuriating. He had no peace. If he did go out with his friends, his Mami would always tease him when he got home. She meant nothing by it, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her he’d given up on love. Who needed love when you could work for less than minimum wage and had so many books to keep up with? Right. The books… he really needed to make a start… There was just something so much nicer about working with the older novels. Back when books were their own miniature works of art.

Sorting the books into three piles, the ones that needed repairs would be left until last. Sadly not all of them could be saved… throwing back into the box, he’d realised he’d left one in there. It’s red leather cover cracked, and he feared he might break it as he fished it out the bottom of the box before putting the box down on the floor. From the feel of the leather, it was old, yet the redness of the cover meant either it was a reprint made to look much older than it was, or someone had taken special care of it. Whatever it was, it’d caught his attention. The name on the spine long since worn down to a few remaining black dots, with the cover also bare of clues to the name “mysterious” tome.

Settling himself back against his pillows, he pulled his phone out. If it retailed for too much, the best he’d be able to do was console himself with photos. Lance couldn’t say why, but he kind of instantly wanted it. There’d been a time in the 1950’s where one publishing house had redone a whole heap of classics for teaching purposes, though their red covers were nowhere near as nice as this one. Even the pages looked good. Slightly yellowed, with none falling out, or bent back during it’s time in storage. Opening the first page “Keith” was printed in nice neat gold cursive, yet it lacked the publishing houses logo, as well as the authors name. Right. He could do this. He’d tracked down harder books in the past…

Lance’s excitement soon died. Keith had very clearly been printed on the page by the publisher, yet… as he started flicking through the antique pages disappointment fell. Empty. The book had no magical tale. No dates. No publisher. No words… a few weird squiggles had been made, the kind you’d make when testing if the pen still had ink it. It seemed to be a personal gift and not a secret treasure… Hell, it seemed as if it hadn’t even been treasured by this “Keith” person, who’d left the pages so blank. Sighing in annoyance, Lance tossed the book down into the box. $5.50… though whoever bought it would probably only buy it for crafting with its thick pages. Closing his eyes, Lance grumbled to himself

“Who the fuck calls a book “Keith”? I want my excitement back”

“Did you call me?”

In the space of the next few seconds, Lance’s eyes snapped open, a scream built up in his chest, and he face planted onto his bedroom floor. Scrambling backwards, his back hit the wall as his eyes went wide. Standing in his room was what he could only call a demon… At least seven foot tall, the demon nearly hit the roof of his room. His violet purple eyes so captivating Lance momentarily forgot that he was supposed to be screaming and running like there was no tomorrow

“Human, did you call me? You must have done. I was mid-hunt and now I have been summoned here”

What the ever living B-grade movie was this? People didn’t go around popping out of books… people also didn’t have… holy fuck were those horns? And… a tail…?! And… was that black hair of his cut into a mullet or were his hallucinating capabilities in over drive?

“Who… who are you!? What do you want?! Why are you in my room?!”

“How the hell should I know? Who are you? What are you doing with my book?”

“You’re book? It came in with a bunch of donated stuff…!”

“So you read it?! Do you know what you’ve done?!”

Lance gaped. Why was he the one in trouble?!

“Me?! Who goes around leaving a book on demons for people to find?!”

“I’m not a demon!”

“You’ve got horns and a tail!”

His freshly summoned apparently not demon crossed its arms. Shit… the thing looked like it could crush him…

“And you’ve got a big mouth. My name is Keith and you’ve gone and summoned me from my realm”

“I didn’t mean to. How the fuck do I send you back?”

“You can’t”

He what now? He couldn’t? His Mami was definitely going to notice a seven foot horned demon dressed in black leather…

“What do you mean?! You can’t stay here?”

“Now I’ve been summoned a contract must be made”

“Nope. No. Noooo. No thank you… I know how this ends and it’s not good for me”

He was going to be eaten alive. His poor heart… he might even be alive as it happened…

“You know how summoning an incubus ends? That saves the explanation”

A…

“You’re a what?!”

“Incubus. Look, we can’t talk if you’re going to continue cowering on the floor. You summoned me, not the other way around”

“Then tell me how to unsummon you!”

“I told you that you can’t. Now that I’m in this world I must fulfil my contact before I can return. I thought you said you knew how these things worked”

“You end up killing me… I don’t want to be lunch”

Throwing it’s head back, the demon started laughing. Lance growing red as he had no idea what was so funny about it all

“That’s what you demons do!”

“I’m not a demon. I’m an incubus… The closest translation to my name in your language would be “Keith””

“Well I’m Lance and I don’t want to be lunch”

Maybe he’d hit his head because the demon in front of him… was kind of hot. Kind of hot in a broody emo way…

“I’m not going to eat you, Lance. It makes no sense. Without your cooperation I’m stuck here. Now get up off the floor so we can make this contract already”

“This contract… am I going to like it?”

Huffing at him, Keith was all teeth around his pout… His hair looked super soft for a demon that had been apparently mid-hunt

“I’m not here for fun. You will bare my child and once it’s born I will take it back to my realm. In return I will help you achieve your dream”

“Time out. Hold up. You’ll what?! And I… you want me to do… what?! I… you… we… nooooo”

“Do you think I like this either? I finally see my brother again after two decades and your skinny arse summoned me”

“But I’m a guy… I can’t… you know…”

“You didn’t think you could summon a demon either”

“Ha! You said you’re not a demon!”

Keith stomped his foot. For a demon who was over two decades old, Keith was actually like a toddler

“Just get off the bloody floor already. I can’t go back without this contract being filled and you obviously need help with your life”

“But I can’t have a baby”

“You can and you will. I’ll see to that. In return I am required to help you achieve your dream”

Blinking rapidly didn’t clear Keith from his vision. The incubus staring at him as if he wondered if he was having some kind of a medical episode

“Just… I accidentally summoned you. Now I have to have your kid… and then you’ll help me?”

“I’ll help you until you have my child. Look, you’re my first summon and I don’t want this either, but here we are”

“I’m your first”

Keith looked slightly embarrassed as he looked to Lance’s bed

“Yes. Now stop being so strange”

He… what? Okay. Okay. He could do this. He could… He couldn’t have kids and Keith obviously didn’t know how the human male anatomy worked. So… so he just had to… use Keith until Keith admitted he could go home and that’d be that. Okay. Cool. Yep… Shakily Lance pushed himself up the wall, Keith watching him as he did

“Just to clarify, you’re not going to eat my heart, are you?”

“No”

“And I’m not going to be horribly murdered?”

“No”

“And if I help you, you can help me?”

“Yes”

“And you and I… have to do the do?”

Keith sighed at him

“You humans are always so touchy about sex. I’m an incubus. I feed on your sexual energy, in return you’ll carry my child until birth at which time I will return to my realm”

“So we have to have sex?”

“Unless you can think of another in which I can impregnate you”

“I… uh… no”

“You will be adequately compensated. I may be a young incubus but I haven’t had any complaints”

Right. Right… Incubuses did that… and Keith had probably done that a lot

“You’re not saying anything”

Taking a deep breath, Lance then let it out slowly

“Give me a tick. You show up in my bedroom all rugged and grizzled… and goddamn tall… tell me we’re going to a have a baby and you’re going to grant my dreams…”

“I’m not going to grant you anything… I will help. I’m not a genie”

“Do they exist?”

Keith shrugged

“Who knows? Maybe?”

Holy shit…

“And how do we form a contract?”

“With a kiss. I’ll mark your body with my seal. As long as my seal is upon you, no harm will come to you”

Now was not the time to be nerding out. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but think “touch your tongue to mine you must”. Pidge was such a goddamn nerd

“Will it hurt?”

“Not that I know of. I don’t go around giving every human I meet my mark”

“Okay… but make it quick… I still have books to sort”

Crossing the room, Keith took Lance’s face in his hands. Lance could have gotten lost in those damn purple eyes of his. He’d been such a failure to his Mami and his friends… and all of this definitely had to be some kind of hallucination. No way had he summoned some hot demon from some weird demon realm

“Close your eyes”

“What?”

“Close. Your. Eyes”

Scrunching his eyes closed, Lance pursed his lips. Keith snorting at him. About to get indignant about it all, Keith dove in to kiss him as he opened his mouth to complain. Holy shit… Holy shit… holy shit… Deepening the kiss Lance’s knees nearly gave out. Keith… holy shit was he good at this. Like really good… like if he’d just sucked Lance’s soul out of his body via his mouth he was more than happy to wave it goodbye. Feeling Keith tooth knick his tongue, a strange tingle ran down to his belly as knees really did give out.

Less than romantically, Keith broke the kiss to pin him against the wall. His purple eyes glowing yellow as Lance tried to remember oxygen was a thing

“Shit. I forgot to ask your wish”

“My wish?”

“Great. You’re high off my kiss. It’ll wear off as my mark settles but I didn’t ask your wish… You better not be wishing for something weird”

“I don’t know what to wish for”

Groaning at him Keith pulled away, Lance steadying himself against his bedside table and sending books cascading to the floor as he did

“You must know what you want”

Right now he wanted to be dicked down… and… maybe for his tongue not to feel so fizzy… and definitely he wanted another kiss

“I…”

“Look, if you’re stuck baring my child it’s up to me to grant you wish. Sit down before you fall down”

“Wha…”

Keith must have decided he’d had enough waiting as he hefted Lance up and sat him down on the end of his bed. Noticing his discarded book, the demon quickly pulled it out of the box

“This is important. You can’t lose this book. It’s not rubbish”

Yeah… he did not have the brain cells for this. Clicking his fingers in front of Lance’s face, Keith sighed at him again

“The charm will wear off shortly”

Lance wasn’t sure he wanted it to. It was like being drunk without making all the bad decisions

“But I don’t know what to wish for…?”

“Ugh. You humans are far too indecisive. No murder, at least not someone famous. I can’t make you fabulously rich and no, I’m not able change the future”

“Haven’t you already changed my future?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Keith mumbled something about “patience”. Taking a few moments, the demon dropped his hand and raised his head

“That’s completely different. Are you sure you don’t have any hopes and dreams?”

What were those again? Oh… those things his anxiety had destroyed

“Dude, I work in a second hand bookstore… Loser boy Lance at your service”

“You’re hopeless. This bookstore of yours…”

“It’s not mine, I just work there”

“You don’t own it?”

“Nope… that shit takes money. Ugh… my guts…”

Feeling a stab in his belly, Lance doubled over with his hands pressed against it. That happy and fun floaty feeling vanishing

“My mark is taking hold”

“What do you mean?”

“Your body will start preparing to carry my young. In a few hours you’ll start experiencing fever and discomfort”

“You said… I’m dying. You tricked me!”

“Calm down. I’m not lying. Tonight I will bed you. My energy will feed the mark. For the next few days it is vital that you rest”

“Dude. What? I have things to do”

“Then don’t do them”

“I can’t not do them! What the hell… it really really hurts…”

Slumping forward, Keith caught him, pushing him back onto the bed before pulling Lance’s shirt up. This was worse then when they’d been in college and he’d gotten food poisoning. He’d nearly ended up in hospital with badly his guts had been cramping

“My mark is taking root”

“It still hurts! Why does it hurt!?”

Kicking his legs out, Keith’s step back damn near shook his room. The demon snapping as Lance drew his knees to his chest

“Don’t look at me, I’ve never marked a human before!”

“You’re the expert here!”

“You said you knew what happened!”

“In the movies!”

“What’s a movie?”

“Mijo?! Is everything okay in there?”

Shiiiit. His Mami… he’d forgotten… Keith growling at his mother’s voice as his hand went to Lance’s mouth. Pulling Keith’s hand away, he didn’t have any idea what to say. How was he supposed to explain summoning a damn demon into his bedroom?!

“I’m fine, Mami!”

“Are you sure?! There’s a lot of noise…”

“I’m fine. Just cleaning up!”

“Well come down and help with dinner. And spend some time with your sister!”

“Okay! Gimme a minute!”

“And wash your hands before you come down!”

Shit… his stomach so bad Lance whimpered at the pain. There was no way his Mami could have heard him

“Mijo?!”

“Yes, Mami! Be there soon”

He didn’t want to go anywhere. Tears welling in his eyes as his body heat seemed to grow

“Lance?”

Keith didn’t get to sound sympathetic. He’d done this to him!

“I think… I’m allergic to your curse… it’s so hot”

“Quiznak… I can’t mess up my first summoning. Hold still”

Lance was pathetic as he tried to fight Keith’s hands. Keith was a demon… and he might as well be a frog… and why were Keith’s hands now on his jeans? When had that happened?!

“Leave me alone…”

“Let me help you…”

“You did this!”

“I think I used too much energy… I need to take some out”

“How?!”

“The easiest way is if I suck you off”

What now…

“Wait…”

“I can’t wait. If I’ve used too much energy you could die then I’ll be stuck here forever”

“You can’t just… just suck my dick”

“Think of it as saving your life”

“You’re the one who did this!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Can’t you take the energy some other way?!”

“It won’t be as fast… but I can kiss you”

“Then do that! You need to buy me dinner at least before trying to get into my pants!”

Gasping for breath beneath Keith, Lance felt totally screwed over by this damn incubus! Opening his mouth, Keith’s growl shut him right up

“Shut up and let me kiss you then!”

Struggling initially, Lance soon felt the heat leaving his body as his hands came up to grip Keith’s horns. Slotting his knee between Lance’s legs, Lance clumsily tried to grind against it. He’d had a lot of experience with clumsy grinding, like a lot, but nothing that felt this good. Keith felt amazing. It had to be part of his incubus charms, but… holy shit did this demon know what to do. Between the solidness of Keith’s knee and the friction his jeans… Lance spasmed hard, orgasm rushing through him as Keith held his mouth to his. Dazed, when Keith pulled his head back, Lance’s hands flopped to the bed, chest heaving as he stared into those yellow eyes. With his thick black hair hanging down… Keith… Keith was really fucking pretty. Horns, leathers, black hair and yellowed eyes… pretty

“Holy… shit… mullet”

“Mullet?”

“Your hair…”

“Never mind my hair, do you feel better?”

“You’re really pretty”

“Lance! Do you feel better? Does it still hurt?!”

This seven foot sex demon cared?! He… the pain… wait… He wasn’t burning up anymore and his stomach was more tingly than his internal organs trying erupt

“Y-yeah”

“Oh thank fuck for that. Your energy is very sour. Do you not embrace your sexual needs?”

His meds dampened the shit out of his sex drive. So did his pathetic dating history… and with someone always in the house knocking one out ran the risk of being walked in on…

“It has been a while. Is it bad?”

“Not bad. You taste quite sweet when you orgasm. Can I have my knee back?”

“Oh. Right. Yep. Sure… um… yeah”

Keith snorted at him, then took a step Lance didn’t think he would by explaining

“I drew out most of the extra energy when you came. I’ll have to feed my energy back into you slowly. You may feel exhausted over the next few days when it starts to dip. Don’t lose that book”

The book was kind of the least of his worries… Hang on…

“If you’re summoned here… what are you going to do? I’m pretty sure my family is going to notice you. You’re not exactly small”

“I‘ll be around. I do believe your mother wanted you?”

“Shit!”

Shoving Keith off, Lance winced as at the mess in his jeans. It’d been one hell of an orgasm, yet with Keith around, he had the feeling damp underwear was only going to be the start

“I’ll wait here for your return. You’d best clean up first, unless you want your family knowing you jizz in your jeans”

“Um… shit, can you like not look?”

“Why not? Sexual pleasure is nothing to be ashamed of…”

“Okay. You and I are going to need to have a talk about this when I come back, but for now, no looking”

“You do know I’m going to see it all later”

That was completely beside the point. He was 30! Not a teenager anymore… Snarking back Lance fumbled at his jeans feeling as if this was now a race against time before the kids let themselves into his room seeing his Mami had disturbed him

“And you know I’ll destroy your book if you do”

“You wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be able to leave if you do”

Getting his jeans and underwear down, Lance grabbed his sweats off the floor. He definitely needed to hit up the bathroom on the way downstairs

“That’s the point. We’d both be miserable, arsehole. Do you eat food?”

“What?”

“Food? Do you eat it? Or do you survive on sex alone?”

“I can eat…”

“Okay. Right. Stay up here and I’ll try bring something up for you to eat”

“I’m not hungry at the moment”

Pulling his sweats on, Lance nearly fell over. Stupid orgasms. Stupid Keith. Stupid mark… Stupid knees

“Look, buddy. I’m freaking out here and I nearly died. The least you can do is shove some human food in that big toothy mouth of yours while we have a conversation. You can read whatever you want to, but don’t mess up my piles anymore than they have been. I need to take books back to work”

“You’re awfully mouthy for a human”

“And you’re awfully demon like for an incubus. Don’t break anything”

“Leave already”

“I’m going!”

God give him strength. The sooner their contract came to an end, the better.

#ashratherose #incubus Keith #don’t come at me you can’t cut text on a phone #Klance #mpreg #Lance #Keith

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