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littlejuicebox · 6 months

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Midwinter Carol 9 / The Snake

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Elf Sorceress OC

Word Count: 2.7K

Story navigation: [1][2][3][4] [5] [6] [7]

Summary/Setting: Based on the prologue/premise from my OneShot “A Midwinter Carol.” / Astarion and the OC broke up after his ascension. She left Baldur’s Gate for fifteen years, only to return just recently. Following the events of “A Midwinter Carol,” Ascended Astarion has been convinced to pursue a new beginning. Will he be able to change who he has become, with the help of his ex-lover or will he ultimately fall victim to himself?

Preview:

He’s covered in the evidence of his wrongdoings. Hells, he can’t speak to Ani like this, with blood literally on his hands, drenched in the crimson color of all his past mistakes.

Warnings: This will be 18+ / in game spoilers / Eventual Smut / Angst, trauma, fluff / Gore / Violence / PTSD / Astarion’s past trauma

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Astarion’s pulse begins to thrum in his ears the moment he sees Eirianwen — or rather, unknowingly sees Delilah, shapeshifted into the appearance of Eirianwen — dart from view, away from the doorframe. His hands and face are caked in slowly drying, scarlet smears of the now-dead Edmund’s blood, but he doesn’t notice. He leaves the partially decapitated head of the foreign spawn, its skull smashed in and ichor spilling out, abandoned on the office floor with the rest of the corpse.

The immortal elf scrambles forward, out of the office, and desperately calls after the woman he thinks to be his beloved sorceress as she sprints down the marble-floored hallway. There is a split second when Astarion notices the woman's pause and it causes his heart to flutter in brief relief. But then she turns to look at him, and the unmistakable hatred on her visage cuts through the Ascendant like one of her ice knives. Her cold, unforgiving gaze snuffs out the final embers of hope he held in his chest.

This wasn’t the first instance Ani thought him a monster. He didn’t know what felt worse, her disappointment the first time or her hatred this second time.

His stomach drops when the woman misty steps away, toward the dungeon, and quickly retreats down into its depths. She abandons Astarion on the upper level of the Palace, his voice still echoing after her.

Another nice, simple plan burning up in flames from another loss of control. He’s left standing in the charred ashes of his own actions once again.

Astarion’s heart hammers in his chest, threatening to break through the marbled surface of his skin as he quickly considers all his options. Finally, the Vampire Lord decides that regardless of if he currently wants to face Ani or not, he has no choice. The poison may still be in her system, and if he does not follow the sorceress, the rings will not continue shielding her.

He refuses to be responsible for that, too.

With no more than a quickly barked order at his spawn to stay behind, the Ascendant morphs into a cloud of smoke and reanimates in front of the dungeon entrance. He moves to rip the door open with a bloodied, shaking hand, but then suddenly pauses, restless fingers clinging onto a cold, heavy brass knob.

Ani is going to want to leave. He knows her well enough to know this. Fifteen years later, and this feels eerily similar to the situation that had finally caused her to walk out of the Palace, never to return.

Though last time, the dead spawn had been his own. Not a foreign one.

Astarion knows he cannot react in the same manner he had back then, because it will simply drive the sorceress away. The more he tightens his grip, the faster she slips through his fingers – that was always the way with Ani. He loathed it.

He cannot afford to lose her again. He doesn’t want to lose her again.

With his hand still clutching the knob, Astarion closes his eyes, bows his head, and steels himself. He sucks in a deep breath in and holds it for a moment or two before his lungs slowly release the unneeded air. When his lids flutter open, the Ascendant notices his disastrous, intimidating reflection in the perfectly polished floor beneath him.

A madman stares back.

He’s covered in the evidence of his wrongdoings.

Hells, he can’t speak to Ani like this, with blood literally on his hands, drenched in the crimson color of all his past mistakes.

The Vampire Lord pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and hastily swipes it across his face and limbs, aiming to quickly clean himself. His fingers tremble as he works, causing his normally nimble hands to fumble, as he removes what debris he can from his flesh.

It’s not enough, but it will have to do.

He’s wasted too much time already.

With a single sharp inhale, Astarion rips the heavy dungeon door open and descends down the cobblestone steps. He unknowingly walks into the viper’s nest.

Delilah is facing the damp, stone wall of the dungeon as she prepares herself for Astarion’s entry. She knows without a doubt that he will follow her here; his obsession with Eirianwen seems to compel him far beyond what any potion or spell ever could.

When the shapeshifter hears the creak of the dungeon door, her hand instinctively wraps around the dagger. Ancient arcane magic flickers from the hilt of the God Killer, emitting a warm buzz of energy that tingles at her fingertips and electrifies her entire body with potential. The vision of Edmund’s mangled corpse won’t leave her mind; she suddenly bursts into tears.

She thinks a part of her might have actually been fantasizing about living an immortal life with Edmund. The possibility of such a future had been there, at least, until the Ascendant violently ripped that opportunity, like so many others, from her hands.

Astarion deserves to die just as violently as Edmund had. He deserves worse, but Delilah will settle for this.

“Ani…” Astarion calls as he approaches the woman, his voice a soft coo, much like someone might speak to a frightened child.

The Vampire Lord comes a few steps closer, his boots squeaking across wet stone as he moves painstakingly slowly, unsure what else to do but make his way toward Eirianwen and try, somehow, to smooth things over. He thinks perhaps he should calm her just enough that he is able to coax her back upstairs, away from this space that holds horrible memories for them both. They’d both nearly died here at one point or another; a tremor runs up Astarion’s spine as the memories assault his brain.

He needs to get Ani back upstairs, back into the space that holds far better memories of lovemaking in the bedchamber and waltzing in the great hall. Back into the space that remembers the sounds of their laughter rather than the sounds of their screams.

Eirianwen isn’t responding to him; the pitiful noise of her crying ricocheting off the walls causes his stomach to twist in knots as he inches closer. His fingers continue to tremble with nerves; he clenches them into balled fists.

“Ani, darling…” Astarion murmurs as he reaches his hand toward the woman. He thinks he might have to grovel, to convince her to come back upstairs, but the sounds of her tears have completely dissolved whatever might have remained of his pride just before he entered the dungeon.

The moment his hand brushes against hers, Delilah recoils in revulsion and then strikes in rage. She spins and sweeps the blade in an arc with an uninhibited scream, slicing into flesh, aiming for the Ascendant’s heart.. With the floodgates of wrath open, the woman is a sharp contrast to her normally calculated self and her strike is uncharacteristically haphazard. The blade pierces itself halfway into Astarion’s shoulder with a squelch, startling a yelp of shock from the elf as arcane magic snaps through his system like lightning crackling through the night sky.

The pain is intense.

“Eirianwen—” Astarion hisses, a sharp swallow of breath preventing him from saying anything further as his hands wrap around the blade’s hilt. Warm blood trickles in tendrils down his skin. He feels the woman using all her strength to fight back against him, almost as if she is wholly intent on forcing the dagger deeper into his body.

At first, the Vampire Lord thinks Eirianwen is just terrified and acting in misguided defense. But then he looks down, and his heart shatters.

She is brandishing the God Killer, he realizes, as another thrust of the blade releases a second snapping, azure ripple of arcania which severely dampens his Ascendant strength. His sweating palms lose their grip on the dagger; it slips forward, burying itself to the hilt.

Eirianwen was the only other being to know the location of the Jaithiman Dagger; they’d found it during renovations to the Palace. When it was discovered, Astarion suspected the weapon was what Cazador had accused him of stealing years ago. Someone had been smart enough to hide it from his predecessor… it just hadn’t been Astarion; he hadn’t even known it existed back then.

But that meant Eirianwen came to the dungeon and grabbed the blade intentionally. She planned this. This wasn’t simply a rushed act of fear, this was murderous intent.

She wants him dead.

The Ascendant's eyes widen in terror as he realizes he’s watched a similar scene play out before, the night that Gale, Faerun’s newest god, showed him a vision of his own future.

But no, this couldn’t be happening, could it? He’d done differently, he’d chosen differently— he’d tried to talk to Ani, ask her for help—

No, no, no.

There is still time, he can still fix this.

Astarion rapidly steps backwards, both increasing his distance from the woman and swiftly removing the blade from his own chest. The trickle of blood from the wound turns into a river running down his doublet, drenching the embroidered finery in crimson. He immediately raises both shaking hands and splays the fingers apart with sweaty, open palms facing the woman in a sign of truce.

She’s still staring at him with such cold-hearted hatred. He cannot stand it. His heart is cantering in his chest and echoing in his ears as he warily watches the woman approach.

“Ani– please, put the dagger down,” the elf begs; his voice cracks at the end, and he cannot even be bothered to try and cover the mixture of emotions causing his steely constitution to falter. In a final, desperate plea, he whispers, his throat suddenly dry and voice wavering on every syllable, “meleth e-guilen, just— gods, please—“

There is a minute pause in the woman’s advancement as Delilah processes the incredible idiocy of the bastard before her. Astarion thinks it is Eirianwen that just stabbed him, and yet he still called her the love of his life in their native tongue.

So much power, wasted on this spineless man, made possible only with the help of that stupid sorceress sleeping upstairs.

Gods, she loathes them both; she’ll happily send them both to hell.

Delilah screams and surges forward again, brandishing the blade as she aims to slash a line in the flesh of Astarion’s face. Let the real Eirianwen find him on the floor, his visage destroyed beyond recognition, as retribution for what he did to Edmund.

The Vampire Lord gasps and dodges just enough to narrowly outmaneuver the knife as it aims for his cheek. He isn’t quite quick enough to avoid the weapon making contact with his ear.

The searing, white-hot pain that instantly surges through Astarion’s ear is almost incomprehensible. An anguished scream is forced from the elf’s throat as he reflexively crouches and clasps his hand over the wound. His shocked mind is reeling as he tries to process what is happening.

His single source of comfort has turned to chaos.

Delilah uses Astarion’s distraction to shoot a powerful dome of thunder from her palm, sending the Vampire Lord crashing into the unforgiving stone wall, the back of his silver-haired head cracking into cobblestone. Astarion grunts as he falls to the floor, his vision blurring from the concussive force with which he hit the wall.

The elf scrambles to his feet, his body still recovering from the blast as his ears ring and blood drains from multiple wounds on his head. Everything moves in slow motion as the woman charges forward again, the dagger suspended over her head with a two-handed grip. Astarion lifts his hand to cast something against her, or perhaps strike her, but his fingers shake with effort as he tries to override his consuming desire to protect the woman that wants to kill him.

He can’t do it. His love for her will be the death of him.

If Eirianwen is truly so set on taking his life, then perhaps he is the monster he swore he would never become. If she truly hates him this much, perhaps he deserves it.

He thinks he understands; he hates himself, too.

Astarion slams his eyes shut as he waits for the blade’s impact and hopes beyond hope this horrible vision is just one of his many nightmares. He thinks he is going to have to hurt Eirianwen to stop this, and the thought alone makes him consider death, instead.

Death might be easier than this.

Astarion hears the dagger slicing through air before blood rushes into his ears again, effectively deafening him as his body prepares for further damage. But the pain never comes.

When the elf’s eyes snap open, he instantly furrows his brows in confusion. The weapon is lodged into a giant, frozen barricade as fractals of ice shoot about the room. Eirianwen is separated from him by a thick wall of ice.

When Astarion turns to search for the source of his shield, he peers through the crystalline partition and spots — gods below — Eirianwen bolting down the dungeon steps, flanked by his two spawns. A sudden wave of realization floods the Vampire Lord’s system in a blend of relief and rage. When his head snaps back to Delilah, she is already tearing the dagger from ice with a frustrated growl.

He thinks to attack Delilah, but as soon as the weapon is in hand, the shapeshifter disappears from sight. Four sets of eyes try to trace her whereabouts, but the only indication of Delilah’s path is the resounding slam of the secret exit hidden at the end of the corridor.

The two half-orc spawn move to chase after the shapeshifter, but immediately stop when Astarion barks a gruff, “Leave her; I guarantee she’s already gone.”

His hand comes to cover the wound still gaping from his shoulder as he groans and leans against the dungeon wall for support. His limbs suddenly feel like lead and his bones ache; there’s a sharp pounding in his head and warm trickles of blood leak from more places than he can count.

The real Eirianwen dispels the ice barrier with a flick of her wrist and slowly approaches the Ascendant, her eyebrows stitched together as she attempts to process what she just witnessed.

The sorceress lifts her hand to cast a healing spell, but when she finally catches sight of the blackened veins branching up her arm, she freezes. Her wide eyes flicker from her hand to Astarion’s face, silently asking him thousands of questions with a single worried look.

Astarion winces and sucks in another breath as he presses his hand harder into his own shoulder, aiming to stop the blood still dribbling from the wound. His gaze flits between Eirianwen’s honey-colored eyes, searching for any of the hatred he’d found in the duplicate pair on the shapeshifter. Something within the Ascendant calms when he doesn’t find a trace of loathing on her face. The breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in slowly escapes him.

He swallows, and his free hand comes toward the woman’s marred, blackened one. His fingers beckon her as he murmurs, “Good to see you awake. Let’s get you fed and cleaned up, Ani… and then… well, suffice to say we have quite a lot to talk about.”

Eirianwen blinks but says nothing. Her mind is working to fill in the gaps; the last thing she remembers is Astarion kneeling in front of her at the auction. And gods, she feels as if she’s terribly ill. There is a flicker of hesitation behind her eyes, but then the sorceress flexes her fingers outward and accepts the offered hand.

Astarion quickly notices the weakness in her grip, but his heart still jumps at the contact. He offers a reassuring squeeze to Ani before guiding her back toward the steps that lead up to the Palace. His thumb is clasped over hers, the digits binding the two elves together as they ascend.

The palm of his hand pressed flush against Ani’s is an exceptionally chaste form of skin upon skin, and yet the elf’s entire body feels as if it’s aflame.

Astarion is holding his breath again.

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Tags: @anukulee

#astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate 3 #astarion fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #baulders gate tav #astarion x oc #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female oc #astarion x female tav #astarion x original female character #midwinter carol #ascended astarion arc #ascended astarion #ascendedstar #ascended astarion fic

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daddy-dins-girl · 11 months

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Playdate - Chapter Three

Y'all asked for it! (bunch of bad influences if you ask me 😛)

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 || Chapter 4

Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 11.5k (I'M SORRY???!!!)

Chapter Summary: You get needy. Dave gets bossy. Marcus gets stuck in the middle.

Notes: Ok we definitely have to show some love for Marcus in this one since he was left out a fair bit in the last, but not to worry, Dave certainly isn’t going to allow you two to have too much fun without him ;)

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Ok here we go... F/M/M threesome. Cucking/Wife sharing. Derogatory Language (in this house we do not apologize for Dave York or his sinful mouth). Orgasm Control/Delay/Denial (Dave is a menace and we don't apologize for that either). Cockwarming. Dry humping. Daddy kink. Praise kink. Soft!Dave York (but rarely). Dom!Dave York (that's more like it). CozyHusband!Marcus Pike (protect your heart, or you'll fall in love). Oral sex (m and f receiving). Rough oral sex. Biting (just one bite). Slaps/spanks/swats (just a few). Sex toys (m and f usage). Anal play/fingering/plug (f receiving). Unprotected P in V sex. Rough P in V sex. Creampie. If I missed anything else I'm sorry but there's a lot... Lmk if you find something!

“Baby?” You whisper into the darkened bedroom, snuggling up a little closer into Marcus’ naked back and he hums affirmatively that he hears you. It's late but you can't sleep. You know you should, since you both have work in the morning but suddenly sleeping seems like such a waste of time when you know there's something so much better you could be doing with your very handsome, very naked husband.

“Are you… awake?” You begin teasingly, your fingers dancing along his side and then smoothing down over his abdomen and retreating lower and lower until you reach his happy trail and tentatively threaten to go lower still.

“Honey,” Marcus groans slightly, his voice thick with sleep. “I have to be up in…” he pauses to look blearily at his watch. “Four hours” he finishes with a deep sigh.

“Four - what? Why?” You immediately question. It wasn’t even quite midnight yet and the two of you typically didn't get up until around 7.

“Conference call. London office” he mumbles into his pillow before nestling further into it. He doesn’t have to turn around and look at you to know you’re pouting behind him and he releases a sigh and rolls over to you anyway.

“I’m sorry” he says genuinely and you frown, feeling guilty for making him feel bad. In his defense, you’ve been exceptionally needy lately and taking it out on him (not that he seemed to mind, however).

“It’s ok baby, I’m sorry. I forgot you had to be up early tomorrow, go to sleep” you tell him, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“Maybe um…” Marcus begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why don’t you text Dave, he’s always up late”

“What?!” You ask, taken aback. You had yet to even say one word in your little group chat. So far it had only been Dave and Marcus and even they hadn’t said much. They hadn’t texted at all actually since the last time Dave was over when it was just the two of you a couple weeks back.

“Well we’ve talked about it right, we want to see him again” Marcus reasons with a shrug. “Maybe you should let him know”

It was true, you had discussed it after the last time with Dave and you had both agreed you wanted to try it again, this time with all three of you there. You decided to give it a little bit of time though. For starters you didn't want to seem desperate, and secondly Dave had a life, presumably, that didn't revolve around your and Marcus' eager sex drives.

“Why me?” You ask incredulously.

“I don’t know, just, you haven’t said anything in the chat yet, might be good to let him know that you’re interested too, you know? Let him feel good, let him know you’re thinking about him” Marcus shrugs again.

Part of you does wonder if any of that could be true. Surely Dave had to know you're interested, you thought you'd shown that to him (multiple times, thank you very much Dave). Then again, you had the same doubts yourself before your solo session with Dave, wondering if he was really all that interested in you as he hadn't directly addressed you about it so maybe Marcus was on to something. Besides, everybody likes confirmation, you think. Likes to feel wanted and know they're wanted, that someone is thinking about them.

Yeah, maybe Marcus was right.

“Plus knowing Dave he can probably get you off with a fucking text message, that guy is… I need to start taking notes” Marcus huffs a moment later and that earns a little giggle from you.

“What should I say?”

“I don’t know, something sexy” Marcus says, playful little eyebrow raised at you.

“Hmmm” you think for a moment and Marcus settles again, this time facing you but closing his eyes like he’s at least going to attempt to get some sleep. You roll onto your back and reach for your phone on your night stand and tap it against your chin a few times while you think of something to say and then it comes to you and you quickly open up your group conversation and your fingers fly across the keyboard and hit send before you have time to talk yourself out of it.

Missing my Daddy tonight… wish he was here to tuck me in 🥺

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, nerves unsettled as you see the three dots appear on the screen just moments later.

Naughty girl, shouldn’t your husband be doing that?

He’s tired 😞 you quickly type back and you don’t even notice Marcus had reached for his own phone until his message appears on the screen next.

She wore me out, York. I’ve tapped out, need a pinch-hitter here. comes Marcus’ reply and then you look over to see him toss his phone onto his own night stand before he gets comfortable again, places a kiss to your shoulder and murmurs a goodnight, seemingly fine to leave you to your messaging with Dave so he can get some sleep. Not only does he trust you, but regardless he’ll see the messages in the morning.

Ah, a needy little slut then Dave responds and you can see the little smirk that must be on his face right now.

Bet you’re already wet just lyin’ there, huh? Waiting for that needy little hole to be filled up good

“Oh fuck” you whimper softly, suddenly wishing Marcus could be wide awake to take care of you the way you're aching for. As it is you’ll have to do it yourself, though you’re starting to think it won’t be so bad with Dave on the other end of the phone to encourage you. One hand slips under the comforter and smoothes down the plane of your stomach but stops just shy of your waistline and you hastily type into your phone again, best you can one-handed, an idea striking you that you think will get Dave worked up even further which should only work to your benefit, you hope.

May I touch myself, please? you ask sweetly in an attempt to stroke his dominant ego.

Jesus, got two cocks at your disposal and still not enough for ya, huh? Sounds to me like someone needs to learn a lesson in self control

Damnit. Your attempt to get Dave riled up seems to have backfired and now you’re going to be paying the price. Your hand falls away from your waist and comes back up to hold your phone so you’re able to type two-handed once again. You’re about to reply and object to Dave when another message from him pops up before you have a chance.

I think I want you to wait. Both of you, come to think of it. I’m out of town but I’ll be back Sunday. Usual time work for you guys?

Sunday?! It was only Wednesday night now. He expects you to go nearly four days without fooling around with Marcus? That will be nearly the longest you’ve ever gone since you got married three years ago.

Four days... moments ago you were whining that you'd have to wait four hours, in hopes Marcus would have time for a quickie before work, and now you had to wait four days?! You're not sure you can.

Daddy, please you try in a desperate plea.

Argue with me and I’ll make it another week Sweetheart he responds immediately and you pout, despite the fact that he can’t see you.

Besides, good things cum to those who wait 😉 He replies cheekily.

But bad little girls and boys don’t get to cum at all he follows up threateningly and you swallow the dry lump in your throat.

You’re not sure how Marcus is going to feel about any of this when he sees what transpired while he was asleep, how you’ve accidentally cockblocked him for the rest of the week. But really this was his fault. He told you to text Dave in the first place knowing full well neither of you could ever predict what the man might say or do.

Tell me you understand baby he says when a minute goes by and you’ve left him on read.

I understand 😞 you quickly send back. Yes, Sunday, usual time.

Good girl. Get some sleep. And baby?

Yes?

I wish I was there to tuck you in too 👅😈

You let out a groan at the teasing little tongue emoji he's used (the devil tracks though, you'll give him that), bringing your phone down to clutch at your chest. Of course Dave could simultaneously rev you up and shut you down, the tease. You’re beyond horny now with not only no one to relieve it, but now you’re apparently not even allowed to relieve it yourself. You suppose Dave would never know, but truly the little game excites you and you know it’ll just be that much sweeter a release if you do play along. Marcus may take some convincing. But then again, maybe not. He’s surprised you well enough so far.

The next few days seem to drag on relentlessly. If anything, knowing you can’t get off makes you even more insatiable. Thankfully Marcus seems to be in the same boat so he doesn’t immediately push you off of him when you climb into his lap while he’s watching tv or sitting at his desk in his home office he uses occasionally and the two of you make out like teenagers, pawing at each other over clothes and grinding against one another until you’re breathless.

“He wouldn’t even have to know” Marcus whines into your throat one particularly heated session, the head of his hard cock pressing against you through layers of clothes. He had already managed to get you down to just your t-shirt and underwear as you sat straddling him in his office chair but thankfully he was still confined behind the thick material of his jeans.

“Baby” you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. It was Saturday morning, you could go one more day.

You think…

But then, oh but then, he rocks forward and his clothed cock notches at your entrance, pushing the thin cotton barrier of your panties inside of you along with his tip and your resolve nearly crumbles.

“Oh fuck” you let out in a tiny gasp.

“Let me take care of you Honey, please” Marcus begs, face nuzzled into the side of your neck as his lower half continues to grind against you causing a delicious friction. “I’ll make you feel so good”

You know he would, and you want him to. More than anything. Well, maybe not anything, because what’s playing at the back of your mind is how good it’s going to feel to share this intense relief soon enough not only with Marcus, but with Dave as well. You let out another little whine as Marcus' hands on your hips push you harder into his lap and your eyes slam shut as your resolve threatens to break once and for all.

You hear the clink of Marcus’ belt buckle and your eyes fly open to look down to see him hastily tugging at it and finally your brain catches up to your frantic libido and you put both hands down on his to stop him.

“No, fuck, please” Marcus huffs, forehead coming down to rest against yours as his breath comes out in short puffs, trying to get himself under control. He knows he almost had you.

“Baby, I really want to, you know I do” you begin, softly assuring him and rubbing a hand up and down his arm. “But just think how amazing tomorrow night is going to be. It’s what I want, for both of us and… I thought you did too” you try, a little pout on your lips.

“Fuck” Marcus curses, removing his hands from his belt to grab the sides of your face and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry baby.” He continues a moment later. “I wanna give you what you want, of course I do. It’s just hard. Like… really fucking hard” he emphasizes his point by rutting against you once more and you laugh.

“For me too baby” you promise him, a deep sigh leaving your lips as you snuggle your face into his shoulder.

And it was. Torturous, even. Men can whine all they want about blue balls and about how much harder it is for them, but you know full well in this moment you're giving Marcus a run for his money for sure.

“I haven’t wanted you this bad since our third date” you confess and that catches his attention. He lifts your chin to look at you.

“We didn’t have sex until our fifth date” he reminds you.

“Oh, I’m well aware” you say, rolling your eyes playfully. “Could've had me on our third” you shrug innocently and his eyebrows shoot up.

“At the museum?!” he asks, shocked, as he recalls your third date together.

“Plenty of dark corners” you shrug mischievously. “I would’ve let you” you tease, a grin crossing your lips and he huffs a breath and lets his head fall back.

“Jesus, if you’re trying to get me to not fuck you right now, this is not the way to do it” he groans and you let out a laugh but decide to let him somewhat out of his misery and push yourself up out of his lap and shimmy back into your earlier discarded leggings.

“Make you a deal,” you say suddenly, an idea coming to mind. His attention seems peaked as he straightens back up in his chair and leans forward slightly.

“If we can restrain from driving each other crazy the rest of the day, we can reward ourselves by going to sleep with you inside me again” you propose, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

“Oh my god” Marcus groans, rubbing his hands over his face and you smirk. You knew he loved that the first time you’d done it. You’re not sure how it’s going to go this time though, given how close to the edge you’ve both already been for days but you want to try. You hadn't done it again since the first time, when you were too worn out to do much more than hold him inside you. Anytime he'd been inside you since then you'd both been far too ravenous to even consider it but tonight seems like a promising opportunity to try again. You just hope you can both handle it.

“Now go cut the grass or check the chemical levels in the hot tub or I don’t know, go to Home Depot, whatever the fuck you men do on Saturdays to keep yourselves occupied and your minds out of the gutter” you tease, swatting at his shoulder and he catches your hand and pulls it to his face, kissing the inside of your wrist.

“Fine, evil woman” he sighs and you giggle. “Last time I ever encourage you to text with Dave again without supervision” you hear him grumble under his breath as he gets out of his chair and places his hands on your hips to push you out of the room with him, your laughter at his playfulness following you out into the hallway.

Thankfully you both manage to keep busy with little chores and errands throughout the day and when he finally sinks inside of you that night it’s like all the pressure of the world is off your shoulders and nothing else exists but the two of you. You’re surprised and yet not that he behaves himself and doesn’t try and move or fuck you. Just stays buried inside you with his face in your neck, breathing you in and whispering little adorations against your skin while he plants tiny kisses there and you sigh as your arms wrap around his at your waist until you both fall asleep.

You wake up the next morning to a note on the empty pillow beside you, informing you that Marcus has gone for a run, and that tracks for him. Typically when he’s stressed he runs and the way you’ve had each other worked up the last few days you won’t doubt if he sets a personal record for distance today. You sit up in bed and reach for your phone to check your notifications and see a message alert for your group chat with you Marcus and Dave and you don’t fail to notice how your heart beat speeds up instinctively before you’ve even opened it.

You press down on the notification and hold your breath when the page opens up.

Hope you two have been behaving yourselves because if you think this is punishment, you haven’t seen anything yet.

His vague threat hangs in the air and sends heat straight to your lower abdomen and you wiggle slightly in your seated position on the bed.

Marcus had replied with a single emoji that made you laugh out loud.

🫡

You pull your lip between your teeth, debating writing a reply. You want to, but you don’t need any more encouragement for your aching and needy cunt. Your fingers hover over the keys for several long moments until you finally think 'fuck it’ and type out a response anyway.

Being so good for my Daddy 😇

With that you toss your phone onto the bed and head off to the bathroom.

It’s a cold shower kind of morning.

The rest of the day goes by mostly uneventfully. You’ve taken some of the edge off with your cold shower and Marcus with his run and you’re both seemingly able to function again as real human beings and not horny teenagers ramped up on hormones. You go out for brunch together, then the farmers market and finally a pit stop at your favorite coffee shop before heading home to bide your time until Dave comes over.

By the time dinner is over you’re both checking your watches nearly every five minutes while you snuggle up on the couch watching tv, pretending not to notice when either of you does it until finally it hits 9:00 and a shudder of anticipation rolls through you. Marcus sits up a little straighter, smoothing his hands over his thighs and releasing a deep breath and you pull your legs up under you and reach for your wine glass to take another tentative sip to calm your nerves.

In the past Dave had been extremely punctual, but tonight, of course tonight, he was not.

Minutes tick by and you’ve already refilled your wine glass and Marcus’ for another while you wait impatiently. Finally both your phones ding at the same time and it’s comical the way you both scramble for the two devices lying on the coffee table, eager to read the message.

Sorry, flight was a little delayed getting in, set me back a few minutes. Leaving my place now. Why don’t you two start warming each other up, I’ll be there soon. Don’t have too much fun without me though.

You and Marcus both share a look before Marcus types out a quick reply, giving Dave the door code and telling him to let himself in when he gets here and then he’s up off the couch and a you shriek in surprise when he hauls you up as well, grabbing one of your arms and legs and tossing you over your shoulder in a fireman’s carry and practically running to the stairs.

“Oh my god, Marcus!” You’re giggling uncontrollably at his eagerness as he bounds up the stairs to your bedroom. He reaches the top of the stairs and to your very delighted surprise he lands a little swat to your ass and you jerk in his arms.

“Baby,” you whine. The giggles are gone in an instant, your voice breathy and trembling.

He eases you down his front until your legs wrap around his waist and he kisses you deeply as he walks you into the bedroom, holding you up at the end of the bed before unceremoniously tossing you onto the mattress and your giggles are back at his edgy playfulness.

He’s still standing and he reaches behind him to tug his shirt up and over his head before he kneels down on the mattress, crawling over you like a predator stalking its prey and forcing you to lie down underneath him.

“Baby, holy shit, you’re so fucking hot right now” you praise him, bringing a hand up to push through his hair and you don’t miss the blush that rises in his cheeks. He’s trying, and he wants this, but you know he’s still a little outside of his comfort zone to be dominant towards you so you try to make sure you constantly reassure him.

“Yeah?” He asks shyly and you nod your head enthusiastically.

“See for yourself” you challenge, taking his hand and putting it between your bodies and sliding it down, down, down.

“Fuck” Marcus huffs, pushing his hand down inside your shorts and underwear until his fingers are met with the sticky mess between your legs. “Goddamn, I love how wet you get” he hums against the side of your face, trying to control his breathing.

“I love how wet you make me” you counter and he groans before kissing you hard, unsure how much more of you talking like this to him he can take if he’s still got to have some semblance of control of himself until Dave gets here.

“Fuck, let me go down on you, please” Marcus begs between heated kisses, his fingers deftly exploring you below and you let out a whine but shake your head.

“Baby, I’ll cum, fuck, I can’t” you shake your head again. Your hands come to clutch in his hair as his fingers continue to lazily stroke you and your hips involuntarily rock into his hand, desperate to chase his touch.

“I can’t wait any longer” Marcus argues weakly. “Please Honey” he pleads and you don’t know if you can take it anymore but you're pretty sure the moment his tongue hits your aching core you'll fall apart instantly. You're dangerously close already and he's barely done anything.

“Fuck” you sob. You’re going to break, you know it. But you’re only human and you fucking tried, nobody can argue that. Your soft moans and whimpers fill the otherwise silent room as Marcus' mouth slowly transcends down your body until he's at your waist, hands at your hips with the material of your shorts in his grasp and he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes of his, silently asking for permission and you feel the last ounce of your resolve finally crumble. You need this, and one little firm nod of your head towards Marcus can get it for you.

Before you have a chance to give in, however, you hear the distinct sound of a throat clearing that isn’t you or Marcus and you push away from each other like you’d just been burned.

You both turn onto your backs, propped up on elbows and look dead on to the source of a good portion of the reason for your pent up sexual frustration, the one and only Dave York. He’s standing at the end of the bed, casually rolling his shirt sleeves up to his elbows as he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“What did I say about having too much fun without me?”

“We weren’t - we didn’t - Daddy please, we waited, just like you said” you blurt out hurriedly in a weak attempt to explain. Thank god he hadn't walked in thirty seconds later, you think idly.

“We were just… playing” you shrug, feigning innocence.

“Mmm” Dave hums, seemingly mulling over whether or not he believes you. His gaze darts over to Marcus whose erection is straining against his sweatpants and then back to you, squirming under his gaze in your tank top and soft cotton shorts.

“She telling the truth, Pike?” Dave asks, turning his head back to Marcus who nods his head.

“I’ll admit, I tried” Marcus confesses, turning to look at you. “She um,” he begins and you can hear the nerves in his voice. You turn your head to look at him and see his cheeks burning bright crimson. You put a hand on his leg to reassure him.

“She was a good girl for you” he finally lets out and you smile at him, giving his thigh muscle a little squeeze of encouragement.

“Hmm” Dave shrugs, processing the information. “I honestly didn’t think you'd last twelve hours, let alone four days. Color me impressed Sweetheart”

His praise makes your whole body flush with warmth and without giving it another thought you get up onto your knees and crawl down to the end of the bed before him, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck.

“Do we get our rewards now?” You ask sweetly, eyelashes batting up at him and the corner of his lip curls into a dangerous smirk.

“Here’s the thing Sweetheart,” Dave begins, reaching behind him to grab your hands and pull them away from his neck and you frown, already worried about where this is going.

“You, I’m not so worried about. You could come a dozen fucking times and still beg for more but Marky Mark over here” he continues, his head turning slightly to look at Marcus. “Well, we already know from past experience he needs a lesson in common courtesy”

“Oh fuck” you hear Marcus groan as he collapses back onto the pillows and runs his hands through his hair.

Dave is of course referring to the time when Marcus had jerked off in the chair when you had been fooling around with Dave on the bed the first night you met and Dave had admonished him about orgasming before you did.

“Now, while I do admire your stamina Pike,” Dave continues, acknowledging that Marcus had after a while managed to get himself readied for action again. “I’m still a very firm believer in ladies first” he comments, looking back at you with a sly grin.

“And to be honest, I don’t trust you” he shrugs. “You look like a fucking geyser ready to blow”

He's not wrong, you think to yourself but don't say out loud.

“Pun intended” he adds a moment later.

“So,” he trails off as he bends down to pick up a bag off the floor you hadn’t noticed earlier (which in turn just makes you wonder how long exactly had he been standing there watching the two of you. You idly wonder if he had really even been running late or was he just waiting outside wanting the two of you to squirm).

He stands upright again and pulls a small box out of the bag and tosses it to Marcus who scrambles to catch it and your eyes are locked on your husband, as curious as he is to see what’s in his hands.

“Shit” he grumbles, turning the box in his hands and you crawl over to him, kneeling at his side and grab for the box to inspect it.

Oh.

EDGE. Maximum Control Adjustable Stamina Ring

Your fingers trace the words on the unassuming dark blue box and you bite your lip.

Dave bought your husband a goddamn cock ring. Your cunt clenches down around nothing as arousal floods you all over again. You don’t know why, but this is one of the hottest things that’s ever happened to you.

You take a breath, reigning yourself back in as you steady yourself and lock your gaze onto Marcus. Toys for you were one thing, you had already acknowledged that you were fine with it, but you hadn't discussed any of that for Marcus and the last thing you want is for him to be uncomfortable (or rather, more uncomfortable than what he's already agreed to).

“You okay?” you ask, barely above a whisper, meant only for Marcus to hear and thankfully he nods his head and pushes himself up so he’s seated with his back against the headboard.

“Fuck. Yeah, yeah I think so” he says between short breaths and you crawl onto his lap and kiss him. It’s slow and romantic, despite the fact that you’re clutching onto a sex toy that your shared lover just brought over. You pour everything you have into the kiss, letting him know without words how much you love him and how much he means to you. You continue kissing, neither of you noticing how the mattress dips behind you under Dave’s weight until you feel arms wrap around your middle that you know aren’t your husbands because his are smoothing up and down your thighs that are straddling his hips.

You lean back from Marcus and your back hits Dave’s hard chest as you realize he’s kneeled behind you and his hands go to your waist to tug at the hem of your tank.

“Take this off baby” Dave mumbles into your ear and you quickly oblige him, pulling the garment up and over your head and tossing it aside, leaving your top half bare as you’d decided to go braless tonight.

“Good girl” Dave praises, hands back at your waist and Marcus is practically trembling in front of you, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he watches the other mans large hands roaming your body. Dave was right, he does look like a geyser about to blow.

“Put it on him” Dave instructs next and Marcus quickly reaches down to shove his sweats down to his thighs, his cock springing free before your eyes, hard and positively leaking for you. Apparently he had decided he's more than fine with what was happening and you're thankful for that.

You feel Dave’s hand in yours and look down to see that he’s wrapped your slender fingers around a small bottle of lube and you pop the lid open to squeeze a few drops into your hands. Dave takes the box from your other hand and rips it open, passing it back to you and then settling his chin on your shoulder so he has an unimpaired view of what you’re about to do.

“Oh shit” Marcus’ eyes close tight as you wrap your oiled hand around his length and give him a few practiced strokes, lathering him up with the lubricant before taking a few more drops from the bottle and significantly coating the thin black silicone contraption that’s in your other hand.

"Good baby?" You ask one final time, just to be sure and Marcus gives an enthusiastic nod behind closed eyes.

You position the large opening over his erection and bring it down to his base and then pull the drawstring until it's tight, giving the end a little tug to be sure it's secure but not too tight and Marcus twitches in your hand.

“I’m a little jealous Pike” Dave remarks casually from over your shoulder while you continue to lazily stroke Marcus. “You’re probably about to have the best orgasm of your life”

“Oh fuck” Marcus groans, head falling back to smack loudly against the headboard.

“But, gotta take care of our girl here first” he continues and now it's your turn to turn bright red.

Our girl.

It sends a little shockwave down your spine and you shudder.

“How do you want him to make you cum baby?” Dave whispers sinfully into your ear before lathing around the edge of it with his tongue.

“His mouth” you answer far too quickly. You’ve had days to think about how you wanted to finally cum and the answer in your head was always the same; by Marcus’ skilled tongue.

“Thought you’d say that” you feel Dave smirk against your cheek. “You wanna sit on his face?” Dave asks and as much as that definitely tempts you, you shake your head.

“Want you to hold me, play with me” you whimper, taking one of his hands in yours and bringing it up to cup your breast. Having both of their attention on you at once was definitely high up there on your list of fantasies and you wanted to take advantage of it whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“Yeah you do, such a good fucking girl” Dave growls before he pushes back from you and snaps his fingers at Marcus.

“Up” he commands and Marcus scrambles immediately, making room so Dave can take his position, your hand falling away from his throbbing member in the process.

You and Marcus are both up on your knees in the middle of the bed, half naked while Dave sits fully clothed comfortably seated in with his back against the headboard. You shuffle closer to Marcus and he takes your face in his hand and kisses you, moaning into your mouth as he practically swallows you whole. Your breathing is heavy as you meld into his mouth and let him take control of the kiss, his tongue probing deeper inside and tangling with yours until you're both breathless and you regretfully pull apart.

“Take these off” he whispers, tugging at your shorts and you oblige him, pulling them down along with your underwear and Marcus helps you out of them before you do the same for him and you're both fully bare.

“Lay down honey” Marcus instructs and you nod your head weakly, crawling over to Dave and turning in his lap so you're seated between his bent legs, your back to his chest and hands resting on his knees because you have a feeling you’re about to need something to hold on to. Dave’s hands come down to start kneading at your shoulders and your head falls back to rest against him. Only in your wildest fantasies had you ever thought you’d have two men showering you with attention at the same time and it was absolutely everything. Dave’s masculine scent assaults your senses as you snuggle further into him, eyes closed as you feel Marcus lower himself to lie down between your spread legs and run his hands up your thighs.

“All right Pike, put this little bitch in heat out of her misery” Dave sneers against your ear and a shiver rakes down your body as your hands clutch tighter to his knees.

Marcus, thank God, doesn’t waste another moment and lowers his head between your legs to lick a broad stripe up your center with the flat of his tongue and a loud gasp rips from your throat. You nearly came already at the first press of his mouth to your heat.

Dave’s hands drift from the tops of your shoulders down to your breasts, gently kneading them in his large hands and then he takes one pert bud between his thumb and index finger and squeezes, pulling on it just hard enough that it edges that fine line between pleasure and pain and you cry out.

“Oh you like that” Dave chuckles from behind you. And fuck he's right, you absolutely love it.

“Like it a little rough from your Daddy while your sweet boytoy licks between your legs huh?” he’s growling now into your ear and your eyes shut as you nod your head. Marcus is expertly teasing you down below, his tongue swirling your clit before pushing back through your folds and then nuzzling his whole face into you and your hips chase the pressure of the mouth.

“Answer me” Dave barks, landing a harsh swat to your already overly sensitive nipple and your body jerks in response.

“Fuck, yes, I love it Daddy. Oh fuck” you whine, desperately writhing between the two men who are pulling you apart piece by piece.

Dave doesn’t give you any reprieve, just lowers his head to your throat and bites down, causing you to cry out before he soothes over it with his tongue and sucks the flesh into his mouth and it mirrors the way Marcus sucks your tender pearl into his mouth and you instantly fall apart, not able to hold on any longer.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck fuck fuck!” You cry out, shaking in Dave’s arms, clutching desperately to him while you ride out your orgasm and Marcus laps up every drop of your rush of arousal. You look down to where Marcus is between your legs and see that his right hand has disappeared somewhere between his body and the mattress and you don't have to guess where. He's moaning as he continues licking into you like a man possessed who simply can't be stopped and your hand comes down to grip in his hair, forcing his face to stay buried in your cunt while your other arm reaches behind you to secure Dave to your throat.

"Fuck, again. Give her another" Dave demands of Marcus who groans into your throbbing center and nods his head dutifully as he doubles his efforts with his tongue, working your clit even faster before he plunges two fingers inside of you. You hadn't even had a chance to reel back from your last orgasm before Marcus is pushing you towards another. He knows your body too well. Where to press, where to lick, kiss, apply pressure. He plays you like a fine tuned instrument while Dave continues his assault on you from above and it's not long before you're wailing out in pleasure a second time as Dave murmurs over and over in your ear what a 'good girl' you are.

“Oh my god, oh my god” you’re panting heavily, trying desperately to catch your breath and calm your racing heart as you come down from your high. Dave has switched to soft kisses and licks to your neck while Marcus still languidly licks your folds, moaning into you as he tastes your release on his tongue.

“Marcus, come here” you say suddenly, waving your arm out in an attempt to reach for him. Marcus gets up to his knees and shuffles forward and you grab for him and kiss him hard, moaning into his mouth when you taste yourself on him. He pulls back when the lack of oxygen forces him to and to your surprise he grips the bottom of your chin and turns your head to Dave and you take the hint and plunge forward to kiss him as well, letting Dave have a taste of your long awaited release.

“Tastes so much sweeter when it’s earned baby girl” Dave smirks against your lips once he’s pulled back.

“And how’s our boy doing?” He asks next and both you and Dave turn your heads to Marcus who’s sitting back on his heels now with his hand wrapped around the base of his dick, precum leaking steadily from the head that looks red and angry.

“Barely hanging on here” Marcus admits breathlessly, the little toy wrapped around him restricting his blood flow and maximizing his pleasure to unprecedented heights.

“Go on baby, go give him some relief, he’s earned it” Dave tells you before landing a little swat to the side of your hip and you too get up on your knees and lean down onto your elbows, placing your hands on Marcus’ hips as your mouth envelops his throbbing cock. You should probably be a little embarrassed that your ass and cunt are on full display inches from Dave’s face the way you’re bent over Marcus with him behind you, but you’re so worked up that you don’t give it a second thought and pour all of your attention into Marcus.

“Oh shit. Fuck!” Marcus’ eyes close and his head falls back while his hand comes to play with your hair, brushing it away from your face as you bob up and down on his length, messy strings of saliva following the path of your mouth. You make sure to kiss, lick and suck on every inch of him, worshiping his cock and murmuring breathlessly about how much you’ve missed it and you hear the tiniest whimper of 'oh fuck' from him above you. You moan into him when you suddenly feel Dave’s hands gripping at your ass, spreading you open and Marcus’ head shoots forward again to see what he’s missing that’s got you doubling your efforts around his already leaking dick, taking him hard and fast down your throat.

“Oh my god, she likes that” Marcus smiles widely, fighting desperately to keep his eyes open while you swallow down his cock with renewed enthusiasm at whatever Dave is doing behind you.

“Course she does, dirty little slut” Dave huffs, planting little kisses to both of your cheeks while he continues massaging them in his hands and you moan again into Marcus, taking one hand from his hip to wrap it around whatever part of him your mouth can’t reach.

“Oh shit, fuck, keep playing with her ass” Marcus begs, and you’re not sure who sounds more wrecked right now, you or him as you moan wantonly into his groin. You’ve never heard Marcus talk like that either and it turns you on even further.

You jerk forward slightly in surprise when you feel something cold hit the soft flesh of your ass and dribble down between your cheeks and then you have to pull your mouth off of Marcus as a loud groan escapes you when you feel it warming up when Dave’s finger chases the path of the lube that slides down your crack. Your whole body tenses up in anticipation of what’s to come.

“Relax baby, relax” Dave soothes, his one hand smoothing over your left check while his other swirls a finger teasingly around your puckered entrance. “Focus back on Marcus, take that cock back into your mouth baby” Dave instructs softly and you let out a little whine but obey, putting your mouth back on Marcus and your husband reaches down and places his hand on the back of your head, not forcing you closer, just holding you there and letting you know he’s with you, gently massaging the back of your head.

"Oh my god baby" Marcus whines like he's physically pained by how much pleasure he's receiving and you hum around his cock, sending little vibrations through it and a slew of curse words leave his mouth.

“Mmmmnnnffff!” you moan into Marcus as the tip of Dave’s single digit finally passes the threshold and dips just inside of you, gently working in and out and around. He’s barely past his fingernail but even that is more than you’ve ever had back there before and the new sensation has you reeling as a pressure builds up you’ve never felt before. You focus on Dave’s words though and keep your attention on Marcus the best you can, swallowing around his cock and taking him as deep as your throat allows until you feel his hips gently thrusting into your mouth and you moan and nod your head for him to keep doing that.

“Yeah, fuck her throat, little whore fucking loves it” Dave snarls and it spurs Marcus on, his grip on the back of your head a little tighter as he pistons his hips back and forth. It's not near as forceful as when Dave has done it to you, but it's certainly taking all the work away from you. It's a blessing because your concentration on blowing him was completely shot the moment Dave pressed his finger inside of you.

“Oh fuck!” You suddenly rip your mouth away from Marcus when you feel a hand between your legs, fingers circling your oversensitive clit and at this point you’re not even sure whose hand it is and you don’t care either. You're on the brink of orgasm once again.

“Honey please, god I’m so close. Fuck, don't stop” you hear Marcus whining above you and suddenly Dave’s finger pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty and he lands a sharp little smack to your ass.

“Nobody likes a cocktease, don’t be a brat” You hear Dave seethe from behind you and feel a hand clamp down on your mound and squeeze and you quickly realize it was Dave’s fingers that were pleasuring you just moments ago that have now stopped entirely. You hadn't meant to stop pleasing Marcus but you only have so much concentration when the familiar waves of an encroaching orgasm sneak up on you like that.

“Keep it up and you don’t get to cum again” he threatens and you know he’s serious. Your mouth is back on Marcus in an instant, sucking and stroking him with renewed enthusiasm and Dave’s hands leave you all together to drop down at his sides so he doesn’t further distract you. It's probably for the best. Certainly in Marcus' best interest anyway.

“Oh my god baby, yes” Marcus encourages you as you bob up and down on him, taking him as deep as you can and holding until you gag before you pull back up to take a breath but continue working him with your hand, paying special attention to his head as you rapidly stroke and squeeze him.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum” Marcus warns and before you even have a chance to wrap your mouth back around him, he does. Hot spurts shooting up to cover his stomach as you continue to jerk him until there’s nothing left and he falls back to sit on his heels again.

“Holy shit” Marcus exclaims, chest heaving. “Fucking hell baby” he breathes before he lunges forward to kiss you harshly. It’s all teeth and tongue and frantic and uncontrolled, not like how Marcus typically kisses you and you’re smiling against his lips, knowing you’ve just absolutely rocked his world.

He releases you and then reaches down to his slick cock, pulling the tie loose so he can pull it over his dick and toss it off to the side of the bed, hands coming down to his thighs as he takes deep steadying breaths.

“That was… Jesus” he trails off, shaking his head, chest heaving with his efforts to breathe.

“I love you baby” you tell him, pushing forward to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“I love you too” he breathes. “Fuck, I think I love you too York, Jesus fucking christ” he jokes, running his hands through his hair and you laugh out loud.

“Who knew Dave was such a talented gift giver” you tease, turning back to look at Dave who’s smirking behind you and simply shrugs his shoulders like he’s got lots of secrets about him you simply haven’t discovered yet.

“I have to go clean up” Marcus announces, looking down at the mess he’s made of himself. “You can um, thank Dave for me honey” he winks at you before he leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead and then he’s pushing away from you and gets off the bed and wanders off towards the ensuite.

You turn over so you’re facing Dave and push his knees down and he brings his legs together so you can settle down over top of them, sitting on his thighs. You can see the outline of his length underneath the dark material of his pants and you know he’s hard. You shuffle forward just slightly and bring your hands to his shirt and start popping the buttons open one by one until his shirt falls open and you’re able to rake your fingernails down his chest. You turn your head as you hear the shower come to life a few feet away from you and then turn back to Dave and lift your shoulders in a small shrug.

“I am under strict orders from my husband to thank you” you say teasingly, pushing the shirt down his shoulders and surprisingly he lets you. His gaze is locked on yours as he watches your meticulous movements, pulling the shirt completely free from him and then bringing your hands to his belt next and pulling it free.

Once his pants are open he helps you by lifting his hips and pushing them down his legs along with his boxers and you pull them completely free from him until he’s naked beneath you. You haven’t seen him like this since your first time together. Even when he’d fucked you the last time he kept his clothes on. You take a moment to appreciate his body, fingers trailing from his broad shoulders down a hard chest wall to a slightly softer middle and then tapered waist. Marcus was a little more fit, more defined, but Dave was definitely bigger, larger and you held an appreciation for both their body types.

Your gaze comes back up to find his locked onto you and you feel suddenly shy that you were all but just ogling his body. He doesn’t let your nerves linger though, he takes your face in his hands and pulls you forward and kisses you, soft and deep, tongue dancing gently with yours and you hum a content little sigh into his mouth.

“So,” you whisper against his lips, pulling back just slightly. “How would you like your payment?”

Dave gives you a mischievous little grin, his hands smoothing over the soft skin of your lower back as he gestures with a nod of his head towards the end of the bed.

“Why don’t you go see what other gifts Daddy brought in his bag of tricks, hmm?” he tells you and you waste no time scurrying off to the end of the bed to grab for the discarded discreet little black bag from earlier.

You hold open the bag and peak inside and bite your lip when you see what’s waiting for you, reaching inside to grab the soft pink object and pulling it out to inspect it in your hands.

“It’s brand new. I just cleaned it, you know, beforehand” Dave explains. You’d seen the empty packaging sitting in the bottom of the bag too so you knew you didn’t have to worry.

“How efficient of you” you raise an eyebrow at him. You’re glad he thought of it too, so you don’t have to sit for god knows how long while you wash it and wait for it to properly dry.

“Told you I’d get you a toy baby. You like it?” Dave asks as your fingers trace the delicate shape of the silicone plug in your hand. It’s about three inches long, the tip is rounded and tapered to be a bit slimmer than its long neck, then there’s a narrow stem followed by a flared base. You look back over to Dave and crawl back over to him, settling in his lap and kissing him soundly. Your nerves are skyrocketing again and you need to just be anchored for a moment. Part of you wishes Marcus was here to do that for you but you can still hear the shower running, as it hasn’t been that long.

Dave thankfully senses your anxiety and he slowly smoothes his hands up and down your arms and your sides as he continues kissing you, seemingly fine with letting you take all the time you need until you’re ready and you have to say, that might be one of the most amazing things about Dave. He definitely has his rough, dominant side but he still manages to make you feel safe at the same time, like you know if you really didn’t like something or want him to stop, he would. And he also seems to just have a sixth sense for your body already. He knows when he can push you and when he needs to pull back and you’re beyond grateful for it. Although you had initially wanted all this and to explore these things, a lot of it was still new territory for you and Dave treated it as such while maintaining this balance of having a hint of softness with you when you needed it, and showing you no mercy when you didn’t.

“You ok?” Dave asks after a couple minutes of kissing and touching, after he’d finally felt your shoulders settle as you sunk further into his lap and his embrace.

“Yeah, I think so” you nod your head.

“It’s just practice baby” Dave assures you, knowing you’re not ready to take him back there yet. Thankfully though you had been somewhat prepared, knowing this might be coming tonight as he had mentioned it last time. You spent a little bit of time online researching and made sure you knew how to properly prepare and clean yourself so you wouldn’t have any embarrassing messes. That had been part of your biggest fear about the whole thing, secondary only to how much it could actually hurt but the more you had read about it calmed some of your nerves. Most articles mentioned that as long as you or your partner took it slow it could be quite pleasurable and though you barely knew him, you did trust that Dave has no interest in hurting you and he seems pretty well versed in every aspect of the bedroom play you’ve tried so far so you’re confident he knows what he’s doing.

“Um, by the way, before we do anything…” You begin, remembering something you had wanted to bring up with Dave but seemed like too intimate a conversation for a group text message. “I just wanted to mention, and, I know the first time was like an accident and if anything my fault, but um…” you trail off again, nervously wringing your hands together and Dave’s hands come down to still them, holding them in his firm grasp and he looks you in the eyes.

“What is it, you can tell me. If I did something that you weren’t okay with…”

“No” you shake your head immediately. “It’s not anything like that, it's just… Well, Marcus and I, we’re not exactly you know trying, but we’re not not trying for a baby. We just kinda figured if it happens it happens and, I just, well I’m not like on any birth control so…” you trail off again, Dave’s single nod letting you know he gets where you’re going. You can’t have him cumming inside you and potentially complicating anything between you and Marcus. You’ve been not not trying for a little over a year now and it hadn’t happened yet and neither of you are sure if it ever will but having Dave in the mix now you just need to be careful. The first time he was inside you he didn’t pull out, though in his defense you nearly forced it out of him the way you were sitting on top of him and your orgasm came hard and fast out of nowhere, you could hardly blame Dave. The second time you’d been with him he had pulled out, despite you not discussing it first and you were grateful for that.

“Of course, I understand” Dave nods his head. “And uh, for whatever peace of mind it’s worth, after my girls I had a vasectomy so… no worries here”

“Oh, good” you sigh with relief. You’ve had a period since your first encounter with Dave so you weren’t worried yet anyway but it’s nice to know you don’t have to worry at all anymore. You also knew that Dave had a clean bill of sexual health too, as him and Marcus had discussed it before your initial meeting so now you knew you were covered on all bases and free to do as you pleased. And you intended to do just that.

“But I mean I wouldn’t, you know, normally, unless you wanted me to” he explains and you feel your cheeks heating again. You’re sitting here naked in Dave’s lap discussing whether or not he’s going to cum inside of you while your husband takes a shower in the next room.

“You just let me know baby” he winks at you, settling your nerves again and pulling you back in for a quick kiss.

“Lie down on your back” he instructs a moment later and you crawl off his lap and lay down on your back in the middle of the bed.

Dave gets up on his knees and makes his way between your spread legs and grabs for the toy in your hand and the discarded bottle of lube on the mattress from earlier. You take a deep breath as Dave also grabs for a pillow and fixes it under your hips to elevate you off the mattress slightly.

Before things have a chance to go any further however, Marcus emerges from the bathroom, a billowing cloud of steam following after him as he wanders back into the bedroom, towel secured low on his hips.

“Hey” he greets a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Dave’s completely naked on his knees between your legs while you lay there spread eagle with your head down at the foot of the bed near close enough to be hanging off of it. It must be a sight for your poor husband.

He looks over at Dave and sees the little pink toy in his hand and though he’s never personally used one either he knows exactly what it is and he swallows the little lump in his throat. You had told Marcus what Dave had said to you last time and told him that you were excited but nervous about it and Marcus had encouraged you to try it if it was something you wanted.

“Just in time for the big show” Dave announces to Marcus, tossing a wink towards your husband who lets out a small laugh, thankful that somebody was able to break the tension in the room. Of course it was Dave.

“I um, I don’t have to stay…” Marcus says, looking at you now and shrugging his shoulders. He’s not sure if you’d be more or less comfortable with him there and you’re not either but at the end of the day Marcus is calming and you know that’s what you need right now.

“Stay” you answer a little too quickly, reaching out at him with grabby hands like a needy toddler and he chuckles but walks over to the end of the bed, grabs each of your hands in one of his and kneels down on the floor behind your head.

“Second best view in the house” Dave winks again at Marcus and now it’s your turn to laugh at how strange this whole situation is. Marcus may calm you but Dave calms the entire room, doesn’t let the awkwardness or tension linger and it’s exactly what both you and Marcus need.

“Ready?” Dave asks and you nod your head quickly.

“Mmm hmm” you say, sounding uneasy even to your own ears. You do want this, but you can’t help that you’re nervous.

“Hey,” Marcus’ soft voice says from above you and you tilt your head back to look up at him and he gives you a warm smile.

“Spiderman kiss” he smirks and you let out a little laugh but tilt your head back a little further and he brings his down until your lips meet in an upside down kiss. You’re both smiling like idiots the entire time your lips meld together.

Neither of you see Dave watching the sweet and intimate interaction, nor do you know the slight pang of jealousy he feels in his chest at how much love the two of you have for each other that he’s never known himself.

Marcus pulls back from the kiss and you bring your head back up to rest on the mattress as your attention goes back to Dave who’s now thoroughly slicking up the small pink toy in his hands before squeezing some extra lubricant onto his fingers and finally between your cheeks. A shudder racks your body when you feel his fingers trace your entrance, spreading the oily slick around everywhere to ensure you’re prepared and then he brings the toy down and notches it at your puckered hole.

“Go slow” you say, taking a steadying breath and Dave nods at you, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh reassuringly.

“I’ve got you” he promises.

You squeeze Marcus’ hands a little tighter and he bends down to kiss your forehead but his gaze is trained on what’s happening at the opposite end of the bed where Dave slowly begins feeding the toy inside you until the tip finally pushes past the tight ring of muscle and your hips lift off the bed slightly.

“Ohhhhh” you moan loudly once it’s nestled just inside you and Dave is grinning at you from between your legs.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me baby” he praises. “Fuck, look at you” he says, a little breathless and it turns you on knowing how much he likes it. The way Marcus grips your hands even tighter lets you know he doesn’t mind it much either.

“Does it feel good baby?” Marcus’ voice is suddenly in your ear and you close your eyes, nodding your head. There’s pressure, but a good kind of pressure and it doesn’t hurt like you feared it might.

“Just a little bit more, you still OK?" Dave asks and you nod again. His hand leaves your thigh and he brings his thumb still slicked with the lubricant down to rub small circles on your clit and a little sob escapes you.

“Yeah, that’s it, fuck” Dave curses, slowly and cautiously prodding the toy a little further while he stimulates the bundle of nerves between your legs and you’re whining and mewling underneath him, silently begging for more. You feel the round base rest against your ass and you let out a loud moan, knowing it’s all the way inside of you now and Dave’s hand that was feeding you the toy comes to rest on your hip and gives it a small squeeze.

“Good fucking girl” he growls as his thumb continues working your clit and you’re writhing on the mattress, rocking your hips into the pressure of his hand.

“Oh my god baby” Marcus groans. His hands leave yours but reach forward so he can grab both your breasts in his hands and knead them in his palms, his mouth going to your throat to kiss and lick every inch he can reach. “You’re so fucking hot” he mumbles between kisses.

Dave’s hand leaves your sex and you’re about to whine in complaint but then he’s grabbing both of your legs and pulling them straight up in the air and letting them rest on his shoulders as he shuffles forward on his knees and suddenly you feel his throbbing length between your folds, pushing through your lips to coat himself in your slick before he’s at your entrance and slowly pushes inside.

“Oh my god” you practically jolt off the bed when Dave enters you, still getting used to how he stretches you and with the toy in your other hole you feel so incredibly full that you already know you’re not going to be lasting very long.

“Oh fuck” Dave groans once he’s buried to the hilt and he takes a moment to pause. “Gripping my fucking cock so tight baby, Jesus you feel so fucking good”

“Fuck. Move, please” you cry out, reaching your hands behind you to grab a hold of Marcus’ head and keep him close, burying your fingers in his hair for something to hold onto.

One of Marcus’ hands leaves your breast and the way his breathing picks up and his sucking on your neck gets sloppy you know he’s jerking his cock and a fresh wave of arousal hits you.

Dave begins rutting into you. His hands are gripped tight around your thighs as he slams his pelvis into yours over and over. He knows you’re close already and need the release and he also knows he won’t be too far behind you, the way you’re clamping down on his dick like an unrelenting vice grip.

"That's it, dirty fucking girl. Letting me fill all your fucking holes hmm? So goddamn full aren't you baby?" He asks before landing a hard slap to the side of your ass.

“Ohhhhh fucckkkkkk” you’re practically sobbing as Dave continues to rail into you, pummeling you into submission with every deep and sharp thrust of his hips. You feel so full everywhere, like you’re about to spontaneously combust if you don’t cum soon. Your legs are trembling as Dave holds them up in the air, toes curled tight and everything feels so good everywhere you feel like you could scream. This is one of the prime examples of Dave pushing you to your absolute limits and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head as you take, take, take. Desperate for everything he has to give you.

“Oh my god, please, please, please” you beg. You’re so close, just waiting to be tipped over that edge. You need that final push.

Marcus turns out to be the one that gives it to you. His other hand leaves your breast and snakes down between your legs and expertly rubs your clit just the way he knows drives you crazy and you cum loud and hard, pushing up on your elbows as your whole body thrums with an unwavering energy that pulses through in little shockwaves for what feels like forever. You can feel the release gushing out of you from your prolonged orgasm.

"Fuck, that's it baby, cum all over this cock. Fuck you're so good" Dave growls as your hips continue chasing down your high until finally, once you've given all you have to give, you’re panting and heaving and collapsing back down onto the bed. Marcus’ hand leaves from between your legs and comes to gently brush the hair from your face as he peppers little kisses all over your cheek, murmuring his love for you and how beautiful you are.

It’s a stark contrast to how Dave continues pounding into you with reckless abandon. His thrusts are starting to get sloppy, his grip around your thighs bordering painful and his eyes are slammed shut and teeth gritted as he nears his own completion.

“Fuck baby, where?” He asks, sounding about as wrecked as you feel and you reach up and grab his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“Inside, fuck, cum inside me” you cry out and moments later he does, filling you with rope after rope of his warm spend until his hips finally begin to slow and he eventually pulls out of you, lowering your legs down and sitting back on his heels in exhaustion.

Another strangled moan escapes, this one from behind you as Marcus’ forehead comes down to rest on top of yours and your whole head is reeling, all three of you orgasming within moments of each other is probably the single hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“Holy shit” you breathe, heart hammering in your chest. All three of you are panting and breathing heavily as you come down from your peaks. Hands are everywhere, stroking and squeezing and reassuring and at this point your brain can’t even discern who’s who and you don’t actually care. Your smile reaches ear to ear and you just lie there a moment longer with your eyes closed, taking it all in.

Finally after everyone’s had a chance to catch their breath you feel Dave gently pulling the toy out from you and you actually groan at the loss. Dave leans over you, planting little kisses all over your abdomen and telling you what a good girl you were over and over and it warms your entire body.

“Baby…” you begin a moment later, tipping your head back again to look at Marcus who once again surprised you with his stamina, orgasming a second time tonight. “Again?” You raise an eyebrow at him and he blushes furiously and nods his head.

“Told you you were fucking hot” he admits, shrugging his shoulders. “And um, to be honest,” he’s speaking lowly now in your ear, just for you. “My hard on never fucking went away. Even in the shower. I don’t know what that thing is that Dave brought for me but… we’re keeping it” he proclaims and you laugh.

You tilt your head back up and raise slightly on your elbows so you can look at Dave. He’s still sitting back on his heels, hand absentmindedly running up and down your leg as he takes a moment to collect himself and enough energy to get up off the bed.

“I think we’ll keep Dave too” you mention, giving Dave a playful smile and he grins, giving your ankle a little squeeze as he winks at you.

Next Chapter

Taglist (if you want to be added, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace

#pedro pascal characters #dave york #marcus pike #dave york fanfiction #marcus pike fanfiction #dave york smut #marcus pike smut #dave york x you #dave york x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x dave york x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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scary-grace · 1 year

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Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 3) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

Chapter 3

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. Except now you know damn well that the thing that’s wrong with it isn’t the house itself – it’s what’s in it. What was put in it. What’s stuck in it. “In most hauntings, ghosts are summoned from the world between by conjurers, whether they like it or not,” Aizawa says. “These ghosts are bound unwillingly to specific locations and left to haunt them as they see fit. Eri was this type of ghost.”

“So’s Himiko,” Jin says. He pauses. “I think.”

“So was Magne,” Spinner adds. “She didn’t like it here.”

“Can’t she go back?” you ask.

Aizawa shakes his head. “Once a ghost has been summoned and bound, there’s only one way out,” he says – but he doesn’t tell you what that way is. Of course. “As I said, in most cases, the ghosts are bound to their haunts unwillingly. The ghosts who came willingly are the ones to be scared of.”

You’re smart enough to catch the implication. Most of the ghosts in the neighborhood didn’t want to be here. “You think Tomura did.”

“A ghost of his strength could have resisted the summons, and killed the conjurer who made it,” Aizawa says. “Your ghost is here because he chose to be.”

“Which is way we brought you to old man Aizawa,” Jin says. Aizawa, who’s not actually that old, rolls his eyes. “He’s got one of those, too.”

Not Eri. It’s not Eri, and Shinsou’s not a ghost, so – “Your husband’s a ghost?”

“He was a ghost,” Aizawa corrects. He looks even more tired than before. “I suppose it’ll be easiest to tell you what happened. It’ll cut down on the useless questions you’ll undoubtedly ask. My husband Hizashi was summoned form the world between two hundred and nineteen years ago, to haunt an opera house that was being built –”

Aizawa’s husband was a very powerful ghost, he says. He could have resisted the summons, but he didn’t, and he spent a hundred and fifty years terrorizing the opera house and everyone who set foot in it before the last person who owned it burnt it to the ground on purpose. “That was a mistake,” Aizawa says. “Destroying a haunt releases the ghost to wander. Releasing a ghost like Hizashi is – unwise.”

“Look up the opera ghost murders,” Spinner stage-whispers. You glance back at him. “Let’s just say Hizashi spent a lot of time embodied.”

Tomura’s words flash through your head: I can’t get it from you or the dog. You’d die. You stare at Aizawa. “Your husband killed people?”

“People who deserved it. Or people he felt deserved it,” Aizawa says. His voice is flat. “Ghosts aren’t human. They don’t think like humans do. Their sense of right and wrong is accordingly – skewed.”

“Sometimes Papa killed people who hurt other people,” Eri says. “Sometimes he killed people who were mean to their waiters. But that was before he met Dad.”

You’re still stuck a few sentences back, slowly piecing something together. “The energy doesn’t last long when they’re – embodied,” you say, stumbling on the word. “Your ghosts are just killing people all the time?”

“No,” Aizawa says shortly. “The ghosts in this neighborhood, excepting yours, are former ghosts. They no longer have that power.”

“We’re people now. We don’t need it,” Eri explains to you. She looks back to Aizawa. “Tell how you met Papa!”

Aizawa sighs. “My current job is as an author. Prior to this, I was an investigative journalist. My specialty was exposés, and I often took risks to ensure the truth came to light. During this time, unbeknownst to me, I caught Hizashi’s attention. He began watching me, following me – helping me, although our definitions of helpfulness diverged more often than not. His word for it was ‘haunting’.”

That’s Tomura’s word for it, too. A shiver runs down your spine. “On my last assignment, I was investigating corruption in the police force,” Aizawa says. “While I discovered plenty of it, I also discovered something worse – a serial murderer, using his role in law enforcement to conceal his crimes. I knew that no one would believe me unless I brought them incontrovertible proof. I took appropriate precautions, or so I thought, then confronted him to force a confession.”

“And it didn’t work,” you guess.

Aizawa’s fingers trace a scar under his right eye in a movement that almost looks unconscious. “It didn’t go as planned,” he says. “I was badly injured. If Hizashi hadn’t intervened, I would have been killed. As it was, I fell unconscious. When I woke up in the hospital three days later, Hizashi was there. Alive.”

“Not a ghost anymore,” you clarify. Aizawa nods. “How?”

“Ghosts can embody themselves permanently if they kill someone and take the complete measure of their life-force,” Aizawa says. “That’s what Hizashi did, and Eri. That’s what they all did.”

Eri killed someone. You glance at her, more than a little creeped out, and find her smiling a gap-toothed smile. “I had to,” she says. Her pupils open and shut again. “She was hurting Hitoshi. She made him cry.”

“Did you mean it?” you ask lamely.

“To be people?” Eri frowns for a moment. “I must have. Or it wouldn’t have worked.”

“The embodiment thing doesn’t just happen,” Jin says. “They don’t just trip and fall – like, whoops, I’m embodied now! They have to want it.”

“They have to want it more than they want anything else,” Aizawa says. “More than they’ve ever wanted anything else in all their existence. It’s not something that happens often.”

“Which is a good thing,” Spinner puts in. “Because once you’ve got one, you’ve got it for life.”

So every ghost – former ghost – in the neighborhood had at least a split second where they wanted to be human. “If a ghost who was summoned unwillingly becomes human, their contract with the conjurer who summoned them is broken,” Aizawa says. “The conjurers often come back to exact punishment, and while a ghost in this world has significant power, most permanently embodied ghosts have roughly the same power as a human.”

“Papa’s strong,” Eri argues.

“I said ‘most’,” Aizawa reminds her. “When Eri’s conjurer came for her, Hizashi’s residual abilities allowed us to defeat him. But Hizashi’s conjurer, should he reappear, would pose a significant threat. Every family in this neighborhood is under a similar threat.”

“Which is why we’re all here,” Spinner says. “The ghost in your house is so strong that his presence hides the rest of us completely. If Atsuhiro’s conjurer or Himiko’s or Hizashi’s looked here for them, they wouldn’t be able to find them. All they’d see is your ghost.”

“That’s why we all want to meet him so bad,” Jin says. “He’s the boss! The baddest guy around! And we owe him, see? If not for him, they’d find us, easy.”

You look at their faces, Eri and Jin and Spinner. They all look pretty enthusiastic at the prospect of your ghost. Nothing like the way you feel when you think about him, some weird mix of gratefulness and comfort and confusion and fear. You look away from them, to Aizawa. He doesn’t look sad, exactly. Not resigned, either. But when he looks at you, you get the sense that he understands it. He’s been where you are, or somewhere like it, and suddenly you’re intensely grateful to Jin for bringing you here. You aren’t crazy for having mixed feelings about your ghost. Aizawa had them, maybe still has them, too.

“This information, while interesting, is ultimately irrelevant to you,” Aizawa says. You didn’t want to say it, but he’s right. “I imagine you’re more interested in how to handle your interactions with – Tomura, was it?”

You nod. “He hasn’t hurt me. I don’t think he wants to hurt me. But I don’t think he knows what he wants.”

“That’s likely. For all his power, he doesn’t seem to have much experience actually haunting anyone,” Aizawa says. “The fact that the house stood empty for so long suggests that he’s selective, and the actions he’s taken suggest that he has an interest in keeping you appeased. That gives you leverage.”

“You kind of need that,” Spinner says. “Like Aizawa said, they don’t get right and wrong like we do. Magne thought all kinds of shit was okay at first. It gets better if they’re embodied, but since yours isn’t gonna do that, you’ll have to explain a lot.”

“Frame the situation in terms of how the action you want the ghost to take will benefit the ghost,” Aizawa says. “For instance, if you want privacy, explain how respecting your privacy will increase your comfort in the house and make you more likely to stay there. Avoid asking him to do things.”

“Like asking him not to stare at me while I sleep?”

“No,” Aizawa says. “Avoid asking him to undertake tasks for you. The means he’ll use to achieve them will likely be unpleasant.”

You think of the coyote. All you needed was for it to leave, but Tomura basically tore its head off. “I don’t need him to do anything,” you say. “Just to leave me alone.”

“Sorry, sister. That’s not happening,” Jin says, and your heart sinks. “That house has been empty ever since we moved in. He’s been waiting for somebody to haunt this whole time, and he picked you. You’re his now. He told Himiko so.”

“Magne said she got the same vibe,” Spinner adds. “It’s not so bad, having a ghost. Think of it like having a really good roommate, or a best friend –”

“Or the coolest little sister ever,” Jin adds, grinning. “All the best people I know used to be dead!”

“I’m not dead! Take that back,” Eri protests. “I’m just your kind of alive now. And it’s the best kind of alive. There are flavors. And tastes –”

Spinner asks Eri what kind of tastes she likes best, and that sets all three of them off. You look back at Aizawa, who’s studying you with that same flat look in his eyes. “I don’t think mine wants a best friend,” you say.

“Mine didn’t,” Aizawa says. You wonder how he ended up married to his ghost, raising kids with his ghost. If that was really what he wanted. If he ever had a choice. “I don’t think so, either.”

When you head back to your house, it’s with an armful of books and a low, heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Phantom greets you cheerfully the instant you latch the gate behind you. You wonder how she got out when you know you left her inside, but the answer comes to you almost ahead of the question. Tomura must have let her out. He’s watched the whole process play out hundreds of times by now – Phantom going to the door, aiming sad looks your way, crying until you open it – and he did exactly what you do. You remember Aizawa’s admonition against asking Tomura to do things. You didn’t ask for this, and he did it anyway.

He materializes the instant you close the front door. “Where did you go? You were gone for hours.”

“I went to see the neighbors,” you say. His eyes flash. “To ask them about you.”

Now he looks confused. “Why didn’t you ask me about me?”

“Because you might lie, and I needed the truth.” You wait to see if Tomura will argue, but he doesn’t. “They had a lot to say.”

“What did they say about me?”

“They said you’re strong,” you say. Tomura goes from suspicious to proud of himself in about two seconds flat. “That’s why they moved here. You’re so strong that you can hide them from the people who summoned them.”

“It’s their fault they need to hide. They embodied themselves, like idiots.” Tomura at least sounds like he’s against permanent embodiment, which is a relief for you. “They can stay. I don’t care. As long as you stay.”

“I can stay,” you allow. You think of what Aizawa said and give one of his negotiating tactics a try. “I’ll be a lot more comfortable staying here if you give me some space.”

“Space,” Tomura repeats. “What kind of space?”

“When I’m in the bathroom. Humans like being alone in there,” you say. He nods. “And at night when I’m sleeping. We like to be alone then, too.”

“Not everybody,” Tomura argues. “In those movies –”

“I’m not going to watch any more movies if you keep getting dumb ideas from them.” You ignore the affronted sound Tomura makes. “Life isn’t like movies. I like to be alone when I’m sleeping.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Do you sleep?” You should have asked Aizawa about things like that.

“I don’t sleep. Sleeping is for humans,” Tomura says. You raise your eyebrows and he scowls. “It sounds nice when you sleep. I can’t hear it if I’m not in your room.”

“What sounds nice?” You’re not a sleep-talker, and nobody’s ever told you that you snore. “What kind of noises am I making? Are they weird?”

“I don’t know,” Tomura snaps. “I don’t know what noises humans are supposed to make when they’re sleeping. They don’t sound weird to me. They’re just – nice.”

You decide to set up your phone to record tonight, just to figure out what kind of sounds you’re making. And then you’ll buy a white-noise machine so this doesn’t happen again. This isn’t working. Maybe you need to try something else. “I’m not fun to hang out with when I’m sleeping,” you say. “Why don’t we hang out more when I’m awake and I can talk to you?”

His red eyes light up. Part of you wants to call his excitement childish, but you’ve felt that way as an adult. Aizawa says that ghosts materialize or embody or whatever you’re supposed to call it at the equivalent human age. Tomura’s an adult by ghost standards. You have to interact with him like one. “Well?”

“I need more life,” Tomura says. “I killed all your mushrooms in the front yard. Find me something else and I’ll – hang out with you. You are boring when you sleep.”

“I’ll find something,” you say. You can see that Tomura’s starting to fade, and you move to end the conversation before he can freak out again. “Thanks for letting Phantom out. I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon,” Tomura says. He doesn’t look happy, but he’s not angry. As long as he’s not throwing a fit, you’ll take it.

Once he’s faded completely, you take out your phone and text the newly formed group chat that has the numbers of every human in the neighborhood old enough to have a phone. Jin’s renamed it eight times already. Right now it’s “ghost friends anonymous”. You text it with a request: If you all catch bugs in your houses, bring them to my house. I need them.

So you can talk to him? Keigo texts back first. Wish I’d thought of that when it was me. No problem. Bug buffet coming right up.

Shinsou responds next. Can we leave them on your porch? Dad says not to go up there.

You’ve got my permission, you say, even though you and everybody else knows it’s not your permission that counts. And his, once I tell him what they’re for.

The cold spot settles around your shoulders and you startled badly. You’ve walked through Tomura by accident before, and he must not have liked it, either, because he stays out of your way when you’re on the move. But he’s here now, not sinking through you but wrapped around you. “Don’t,” you say aloud. “I’ll get a chill.”

Tomura stays there a moment longer, probably just to prove he can. Then he slips away, leaving you with the worst case of goosebumps you’ve ever had and a feeling you don’t like in the pit of your stomach. You’ve got a ghost in your house – fine. It’s not being a ghost that makes him an asshole.

Tomura’s an asshole, but he must want to hang out with you more than he wants to spy on you, because the bathroom’s empty except for you when you shower before bed. And for the first time in weeks, you fall asleep in an empty room.

Your bug idea works out pretty well. Every day you find at least five or six jars on your porch with holes drilled into the lids and spiders or ants or wasps rattling around inside, trying to escape. Two jars of bugs buys Tomura five minutes of complete materialization, but he’s starting to get smart about things, only materializing what he needs for a given interaction. A pair of hands to throw the ball for Phantom. His head and shoulders when he’s talking to you. His whole body, barely visible, when the neighbors come over to the house to drop off the day’s catch.

The first ones to come by are Jin and Himiko, and Himiko shrieks in excitement when she sees Tomura’s shadow on the front porch. “It’s you!” she squeals. “You’re so cute!”

“I’m not cute,” Tomura says, disgusted. Then he looks at you. “What’s cute?”

“Not you,” you say, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Even though he can’t breathe. It’s weird-looking for sure. “Jin, Himiko, this is Tomura. He’s, uh –”

“The boss!” Jin flashes a double thumbs-up. “The king of the neighborhood! Frankly, my dude, you terrify me.”

Jin’s mood switches stopped being weird to you a long time ago, but Tomura’s not used to him yet. “What’s wrong with it?” he mutters.

“Nothing’s wrong with him! Don’t make fun of my humans,” Himiko says. She smiles with her sharp teeth and ghost-blinks a few times. “I don’t make fun of your human. Even though she wears the same shirt three times a week.”

“It’s my favorite shirt,” you protest. “It’s comfy. And I wash it in between.”

“My human wears what it wants to wear,” Tomura says. You don’t have the heart to correct him on the pronouns.

And you don’t have to – somebody else does it for you, when Shinsou stops by with a bug delivery two afternoons later. He’s not alone, but it’s not Aizawa with him. It’s a blond man with a tiny mustache and bright green eyes, and he’s standing as far away from Shinsou as humanly possible without letting go of Shinsou’s hand. “I admire the ingenuity, but this is gross,” he says, projecting his voice ridiculously loud with seemingly no effort. Then he looks up at you and smiles. “Hey there. Shou’s told me all about you. The name’s Hizashi.”

“Aizawa told me about you, too.” You’ve met almost all the ghosts in the neighborhood already, but this is your first time seeing Hizashi, and something about him makes you nervous. Maybe it’s just what you know about his backstory, or maybe you’re worried he’s going to come up here and give Tomura ideas about things he can do with his human. “Tomura, this is Hizashi. He lives up the street.”

“I know who he is,” Tomura says. He’s more visible now than he was a second ago. “Back off. You’re scaring it.”

“It?” Hizashi repeats. “Most humans don’t go by ‘it’, friend. That’s a she. Your human’s a woman.”

“Huh?” Tomura looks at you, looks you up and down in a way that makes you really uncomfortable. “How can you tell?”

“You could ask,” Hizashi says, unruffled. He turns his attention to Shinsou. “You’re sure you have to go up there? Spooky McScarface doesn’t look too friendly.”

“I don’t touch other people’s humans,” Tomura says. He studies Shinsou as Shinsou comes up to the porch and sets his jar down on the first step. “Which kind are you?”

“I’m a guy,” Shinsou says. Tomura keeps staring at him. “The opposite of a girl. Not a girl. Most humans are guys or girls. Men or women. I’m a guy. Your human’s a girl.”

“Whatever,” Tomura says. Shinsou sets down the bugs and backs away toward the front gate. You’d elbow Tomura if he was embodied. When you elbow him anyway, your elbow goes numb from the cold. “I’m supposed to say thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Hizashi says. He yanks Shinsou back through the gate and hurries him up the street. “We’ll be back! Enjoy your worms.”

They’ve given you a lot of worms. “This is great,” you say. “Maybe we can get through a whole movie on these. What do you think?”

You glance at Tomura and find him mostly dematerialized, lost in thought. “You’re a girl,” he says. You nod. “What am I?”

“Whatever you want to be, I guess,” you say. “You look like a guy, though. Your voice sounds like a guy’s voice, and you don’t have – um –”

You gesture at your breasts, which is a mistake. Now he’s looking at them. “Would you rather be a girl?”

“No,” Tomura says decisively. “I don’t like girls that much.”

Tomura’s understanding of gender probably still has a couple of big holes in it, but you decide to steer off the topic for now and count yourself lucky that it wasn’t worse. It’s not until you’re trying to fall asleep in your still-empty room that you realize what Tomura actually said – that he doesn’t like girls enough to want to be one, not that he doesn’t like girls at all. You thought you were off the hook. It turns out your ghost is straight.

You text Aizawa in a fit of pique. Your husband taught my ghost how to like girls.

Your ghost already liked girls. Now he has words to explain it. Aizawa’s typing bubble appears, then vanishes. Trust me, it helps.

You’re not all that sure that it does, but after a week or so of normal behavior from Tomura, you decide that it’s probably not a disaster. Whatever Hizashi told him, it’s not anywhere as bad as what Tomura’s getting out of the movies he watches with you.

You’ve been trying to be careful about what you show him, but you learn pretty quickly that he can get something weird out of whatever he watches. Tomura is shockingly observant, picking up on stuff that even you don’t notice, but he almost invariably draws the wrong conclusions about whatever he’s caught on to. That’s fine when you’re watching sci-fi. Not fine when you’re watching a romcom.

“No,” you say to Tomura for the fifth time. You feel like you’re talking to Phantom. “That’s not good. He shouldn’t be doing that.”

“Why not? He wants to protect her and she’s being stupid.”

You agree she’s being stupid, but – “He’s scaring her,” you say. Tomura blinks. He doesn’t blink like the embodied ghosts do. He blinks like a human does. “It’s scary for someone to grab you, or to block you in a corner and not let you leave. People who care about you don’t scare you.”

Tomura’s quiet for a little bit. You’re just picking up the remote to unpause the movie when he speaks again. “Do I scare you?”

“Right now? No.”

“So you’ve been scared of me before,” Tomura says. Sometimes you can get away with lying to him, but not right now. You keep quiet, and he takes it how you meant it. And he’s pissed. “Why would you be scared of me? I didn’t do anything to you. I helped you –”

“Humans are scared of things we don’t understand,” you say. Tomura studies you, scratching the side of his neck. He’s not materialized enough for it to show, which is good. You hate seeing the scrapes appear. “It’s normal.”

“The others say their humans weren’t ever scared of them.”

“Their humans were kids,” you say. “I’m not.”

You haven’t run your theory by Aizawa yet, but you’re still pretty sure you’re right. Jin, Shinsou, and Spinner were all kids when they met their ghosts, and their ghosts were there for them when nobody else was. You’ve heard the stories of how they met in bits and pieces, but you know Himiko protected Jin and Jin’s siblings from their abusive dad – and killed him to embody herself when he took it too far. Eri told you what she did to the foster sibling who hurt Shinsou. Spinner hasn’t told you how he met his ghost yet, but you feel like it’s probably something similar. They were all kids, and their ghosts were their best friends before they became human. They didn’t think about it any more than that.

You and Aizawa were older. You can’t speak to whatever brought Aizawa to Hizashi’s attention, but you went out of your way to make sure your house wasn’t haunted and wound up with a seriously haunted house anyway. When Tomura killed the coyote to protect you and Phantom, you were grateful, and you said so – but your next thought was about how easily that same violence could be turned against you. You’re an adult. You don’t trust easily. Of course you’re wary of the insanely powerful ghost in your house. Who wouldn’t be?

Tomura’s still studying you. “How do I make you – not?”

“You can’t make me do anything,” you say. Tomura rolls his eyes. “Don’t do that. You asked.”

“And you didn’t answer. How do I make you stop being scared of me?”

“You can’t,” you say, which is probably the stupidest answer you’ve given to any question ever, even if it’s true. “Why do you want me not to be scared of you? You’re supposed to be haunting me. Don’t you want to act like a ghost?”

Tomura vanishes, which is about as close to a fuck-you as it gets. You resign yourself to a rough night and settle in for the rest of the movie. In retrospect, daring your ghost to actually haunt you was a really bad idea.

You haven’t shown Tomura any horror movies, but you watched a few before you knew he was watching them with you, and over the next few hours, he pulls every trick he must have seen in them. The lights flicker. The house fills itself with weird sounds, creaks and screeches and moans, and the hallways warp before your eyes as you try to walk through them. If you had to guess, you’d say Tomura wants you to beg him to stop, but you’re not going to do that. You brush your teeth, ignoring the way the water from the faucet runs read and the creepy shadow behind the shower door. You check your closet, ignoring the pair of feet very obviously sticking out below the racks of clothes, and pick up your feet to avoid the hands that grasp at your ankles as you try to get into bed. Then your bed starts to rattle, like he’s grabbed it by the post and started shaking it around.

And that, of all things, is what makes you lose patience. “You suck at haunting things.”

Tomura’s voice issues from beneath the bed. “Maybe you just suck at being haunted.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” You suck at all of this, and all the time you spend trying to solve your ghost problem has been sapping your focus at work. Mr. Yagi’s nice about it, but he can’t be nice forever. “I didn’t ask for this. You did.”

Your bed rattles again, harder than before, then goes still. “No, I didn’t.”

“Don’t lie. I know how this works. A ghost as strong as you –”

“I wasn’t always strong.” A scratching sound emanates from beneath the bed. Not only is Tomura still down there, he’s materialized fully enough that you can hear him scratching his neck. Why would he waste that kind of energy? “I didn’t want to come here. Master made me. I couldn’t get back.”

Master – his conjurer. It must be. But Aizawa says that ghosts are strong or weak, that their powers don’t grow or increase, and all the former ghosts agree. If Tomura started out weak enough to be summoned unwillingly, how did he get strong enough to hide an entire neighborhood of former ghosts? “I don’t understand.”

“So I bet you’re extra scared now.”

Tomura’s voice is bitter, mocking. But you can still hear the scratching, and before you can think better of it, you sit up and slide off your bed. When you’re lying flat on the floor, you can see into the darkness beneath the bed and make out Tomura’s red eyes, his pale skin, the scraped-raw spots on the side of his neck. “Hey, don’t do that,” you say quietly, and he scoffs. “It looks like it hurts.”

“Things don’t hurt. There’s feelings or not-feelings. I don’t care either way.”

“If you don’t care either way, then stop,” you say. Tomura scoffs again. “I’ll prove it’s different. Hold your hand out.”

He holds out the hand he’s not scratching with, like an asshole, but maybe you can use that. If he’s still scratching, the contrast will be obvious. You reach for Tomura’s hand with both of yours and hold it still. Part of you is expecting your hands to sink through and meet in the middle, but Tomura’s hand is real enough to touch. His skin is rough and ice-cold.

Tomura stops scratching the instant your hands enclose his. You’re tempted to call attention to it and gloat over being right, but it feels like it would be the wrong thing to do. It’s banter, and this doesn’t feel like banter. It feels like something else. You don’t think too hard about what that something is.

Tomura’s not thinking about it, either, but that’s because Tomura’s an asshole. “It only feels different because your hands aren’t moving.”

“You want me to move my hands? Fine.” You turn Tomura’s hand over and run the pads of your fingers lightly over his palm, noting as you do that his palm is completely unlined. He doesn’t have fingerprints, either. You notice that when you trace the length of one of his fingers, and then the next, and the next after that. But if you ignore that, and you ignore the cold, Tomura’s hand is just a hand. You match your palm to his, then run your fingers down the length of his all at once. It’s just a hand. It could be anyone’s.

Tomura yanks his hand free of yours and vanishes for the second time tonight, leaving you sprawled out on the floor of your room, staring into the now-empty space under your bed. It occurs to you to be embarrassed, but this isn’t even close to the dumbest thing you’ve done because of the ghost in your house. You lay there for a second, wondering how long it’ll take for Tomura to get whatever stupid thing he’s doing out of his system, and then climb back up into bed.

Tomura’s sitting there, cross-legged, both hands up over his face. “What was that?” he asks. Usually when he asks you questions like that, it’s a demand, but it sounds different this time. “Why did you do that to me?”

“I was proving a point.” Were you, though? Suddenly you aren’t sure. “Get off my bed.”

“Never do that again,” Tomura says. His shoulders are rising and falling fast, like he’s breathing hard. “Never! I don’t want to feel like this!”

“Like what?” you ask, but now he’s fading – not dematerializing, fading. He’s run out of energy, and he won’t be back tonight, unless he changes his mind and decides you and Phantom are fair game as far as living batteries go. “Fine. You started this. Don’t play your stupid games with me anymore.

The lights flicker on, then off, then on again. You roll over, press your face into your pillow, and fall asleep.

#lovhalloweenhorror #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #x reader #reader insert #shigaraki tomura #ghost story #loser nerd ghost boyfriend

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uhhidkkenny · 1 year

Text

Complex.

Synopsis: Taking over your parents old apartment building didn’t seems so bad. It would definitely need some work to get it into shape but what about the “problem” tenant?

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem reader

Word Count :5,626

CW: smut, voyeurism?, sub/dom dynamics, pussy slapping, degrading, oral (m&f), use of daddy, spit kink, explicit language, creampie, dirty talk, let me know if I forgot anything.

Minors DNI

A/n~ first fic so please let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome!🖤

Taking over your parents old apartment building was a lot to deal with. It was a small apartment building. It was only one story and it was inside like a hotel. It definitely had a couple of problems. From fixing up old units, finding some people who would keep up with the maintenance, marketing, getting a contractor to fix the busted up parking lot, it would take some TLC to get the building looking great again for sure. But the worst task was needing to introduce yourself to all the current tenants. Out of the 10 apartments in the building, 7 were already filled. 2 units were occupied by older couples who sent a check in on time every month and didn’t want to be bothered. 1 unit was shared by multiple college girls who are either too drunk to bother anyone or to busy throwing a party to care about anyone else. Another unit is occupied by a younger male who was always out working or traveling. 2 more units were occupied by couples, one was a younger pair that seemed to hate each other, and the others being close to mid thirties who seemed desperate to be inside each others skin. You would soon be occupying one to save yourself money, but it seems that you were going to be neighbors with the man who seemed to leave quite the impression on your parents.

Standing outside of the last apartment, you look at your clip board to read the summary your parents gave you and see that the man who lives here seems to be trouble. Ranging from altercations, not paying rent on time, or just complaining about everything it definitely seemed like he wouldn’t be your favorite. Knocking on his door nervously you begin to wonder if he’s a scary and old man or if he’s some young kid who comes from daddy’s money that just likes chaos. After waiting for what felt like maybe 2 minutes, you turn on your heels to walk away and just deal with the cranky man when he makes trouble again. That is until the door unlocks. Once it creeks open you hear “Can I help you?” Spinning back around you meet the tall, built, beautiful, belligerent man named Toji Fushiguro. Maybe being neighbors with an asshole wouldn’t be so bad.

“Hi I’m y/n. I’m the new landlord and I wanted to introduce myself to the tenants.” you say with a smile holding your hand out. His large hand grabs yours firmly but is gentle as he shakes it. “Toji” he says with a big smirk across his scarred lips. You’re hoping he can’t feel your hands sweating as your eyes meet. “I didn’t think a little girl like you would want to take over this dump” he says finally releasing your hand, leaning his shoulder on the door frame. “Well my parents weren’t able to keep up with the place anymore so I offered to take over.” You say taking a few steps back trying to keep your eyes on his and not rake them over his body. “Well it was nice to meet you y/n. Can’t wait to see you again” He says with that big smirk on his face still as he shuts his door.

You feel a sigh feeling relief roll from your lips. Things went better than planned and now you just have to plan on how to fill the remaining units. It’s only September 3rd so you’ve got time. As you’re walking down the long hall of the building you realize it’s pretty quiet. This is something you hoped for; the apartment building isn’t in terrible shape, the tenants seem decent, and now you’re the owner who can decorate the building however you want. You’ve got a cute little office in the front you can’t wait to mess with and you need to buy new furniture for the apartment you’re about to take for yourself. You wanted to feel control over your own life. You were ready for some simplicity in your life. Your 24 now. You’re too old to party every night but too young to be tied down at home with kids. You were fresh out of college so this felt like a good transition stage with less partying and more working. It was the best time in your life to keep yourself busy and learn how to fully live life on your own. Everything was going perfect. Things were gonna be good right?

It’s the 5th of October and everything was going amazing. Everything is decorated and furnished, including your new apartment. The 2 remaining units were remodeled and you have multiple applications from people trying to rent them. The outside of the building look clean. The parking lot had no potholes remaining. You haven’t had anyone call or come to the office with any complaints. Everything seemed fine. Your parents were probably just being a little judgmental. That was until you were looking on your laptop that sits in your office and you notice a certain someone is late on rent. That certain someone is also your new neighbor. That certain someone is also the fine ass man that you can barely keep eye contact with. Aka Toji.

Ever since you moved into the apartment fully, you saw Toji a handful of more times. He even offered to help you move a few pieces of furniture while the movers had taken a break. You declined the offer but made small talk about how long he’s been there and how he liked what you had done with the building. Since then most of what was exchanged was simple greetings or how are you doings then going about your lives. He had a weird schedule though. Sometimes you were going into the office at 9am and he was just coming home, sometimes when you went to your apartment for lunch at 1pm he was just leaving, sometimes at 2am you could hear him singing in the shower. There were random times in your apartment when you could hear some “things” at night. There was also a night or where you swore you could hear thumping on the wall along with a higher pitched voice, a womans voice. You could tell that Toji was being respectful and trying to keep it down but he seemed to know how women liked it. You were definitely not jealous of whoever was in the apartment that one time. Not at all. You obviously weren’t envisioning that it was you. Most nights though there was no thumping on the wall, just grunts. You couldn’t help but lean a little closer to the way and slip your hand in your panties to toy with your clit. Listening to him through the walls. He wasn’t just beautiful, his grunts and moans sounded just as pretty as he looked. You just hoped that he couldn’t hear you too.

It doesn’t matter though because you’re his landlord and he is your tenant. Your little crush can’t get in the way of you making money. You have to show him you mean business. Building up the courage to acknowledge his rent being past due you feel you feet moving towards his door to slide a note under that says “Hey! Rent was due on the 3rd. Please let me know when you will be able to pay it before late fees add on. -y/n :)” Running back to the office to act like it wasn’t you who left it, even though your the owner.

Confrontation wasn’t your strong point. You didn’t find Toji scary so much as you found him intimidating. The man could break you if he wanted to and you weren’t sure if you liked that or not. The next day you went in your office to find a note was slipped under the door for you that said

“Sorry sweets, I will pay it on the 7th. Ps just knock next time - Toji”

After blushing like a preteen in middle school you went about your day making calls and listing the apartments on other websites to keep yourself busy.

A few days had gone by since you had seen or heard Toji. It’s currently 4 pm and you’re adding some last minute decor and furniture to one of the vacant units for a tour coming up tomorrow with potential tenants. You have your head phones in, humming along as you move things around the apartment. Placing things in set ways to make sure it looks presentable when feel like something is behind you. “Holy shit” you yell dropping the picture from your hands as you turn around and notice Toji at the door. He starts laughing and you pout. “You scared the shit out of me” you admit crossing your arms over your chest. You’re blushing hard from embarrassment and the fact that he is dressed in a tight shirt with sweats. “Can I help you?” “I just wanted to come apologize for the rent but I didn’t wanna interrupt your creativity” he laughs again taking a step into the apartment looking around “It looks nice in here” you smile at the compliment. “Aw thanks. I’m hoping the people who want to rent it think the same” you sigh. “I think anyone would rent from a cutie like you” he says once he’s done looking around and focuses his eyes on you. “I was wanting to see if I could make you dinner to make up for the rent situation” he says eyeing you up and down. “That’s ok Toji. You don’t need to do that.” your eyes are trying to look anywhere that is not him. Nobody has ever made you this nervous, especially not a man but Toji made you feel things. Especially between your thighs. “I want to make up for it sweets, why don’t you come to my place tonight… I don’t bite.” He smirks taking a few more steps inside. “I-I don’t know. I don’t want to be a bother” you say feeling yourself heat up as he gets closer. “It’s only me you’ll be able to bother” he chuckles, “Be there at 7 please. I don’t wanna leave a bad impression” he says bending down to pick up the picture from floor handing it to you. His fingers graze yours as you reach for it and you feel electricity shoot through your fingertips. Your eyes meeting his. “I’ll be there” he releases the photo and walks away “Great, don’t forget that pretty face” is the last thing you heard before he is fully out of the unit. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the butterflies you feel in your stomach.

7 o’clock rolls around and you’ve gone through what feels like a million different outfits after your shower. You keep reminding yourself it’s not a date but you can’t let this gorgeous man see you looking bad. You thought about a dress but that was too fancy. Maybe a t shirt and biker shirt? Too casual. You ended up settling for a pair of brown flare yoga pants with a crème cropped turtle neck. Your hair was in its naturally curly state but with the help of a few products it looked extra bouncy. You felt hot and hopefully Toji would at least find you presentable. You keep mentally telling yourself to chill the fuck out and it’s not a date so who care what he thinks, but you know who cares. You care. Grabbing your keys and phone you walk out of your door just to walk up to his. It’s about 7:13 at this point but you were nervous. Taking a deep breath in you finally knock and wait to see what the man has in store for the night.

The door creeks open just like last time and you make a mental note to offer to fix it someday. He stands there in black jeans and a white sweater but his muscles are still peeking though his attire. “Like what you see?” You can hear his smirk before your eyes meet his. You didn’t even realize you were eye fucking him while he was watching. “Sorrysorrysorry. You look nice” You smile, desperately trying to recover from the embarrassment. He steps back out of the doorway extending his arm toward the inside of his apartment to invite you in. You walk in and his apartment it surprisingly clean. It’s got some basic decor, a few pictures around, the apartment has been painted a light grey but it was nice. “You were late. I thought I was gonna have to slip a note under your door.” He’s the first to speak up with a slight chuckle in his tone. It makes you let out a small laugh too. “I’m sorry I was late there was traffic.” You joke making your way to the island that sits outside the kitchen to have a seat. “What do you want to drink pretty girl” he asked stepping in the kitchen with his back faced to you. “Water is fine” Toji definitely made you feel more comfortable as the time passed. While he was cooking you guys made small talk about you taking over building for your parents and how you finished school for interior design but this sounded more fun. He also told you about himself and how he does contract type work and odd jobs which is why he is coming and going at random times.

When the food was done you both made it to the comfy couch in the living room to eat. He made a simple meal of chicken and rice but it was really tasty. There wasn’t much conversation during the meal but it was a comfortable silence. When you both finished up you were the first to stand, taking your plate into his kitchen and walking over to the sink. “What are you doing?” He question making his way into the kitchen behind you. You already had your sleeves rolled up with the water running in the sink. “You cooked for me so I’ll clean the dishes.” You say as you begin washing your dishes when Toji sets his in the sink next to yours. “You didn’t need to do that. I cooked to make it up to you about rent. Now I’m gonna owe you again” he says with a smile as he leans agains the counter by you, watching you do the dishes. “Well the food was good so I wouldn’t mind if you made something else for me” you admit. Finishing up the dishes, your hands were soaked and you secretly wanted to look in a mirror to fix your self up, if need be. You ask for the bathroom and he directs you to it. The bathroom is just as clean as the rest of the apartment. You dry off and go to meet Toji in the living room.

He’s sitting on the couch so you make your way over and sit on the opposite side. “What would you like to do?” He’s relaxed on the couch, his legs manspread, an arm thrown over the back of the couch shifting his head to look at you. He just looks so good you can’t help but let your mind run wild. “It’s only 9:30 so you can stay a little longer right? You only live next door.” You internally debate for about two seconds before agreeing. “It’s not my bedtime yet so I guess we could find something to do or watch something.” You say with a chuckle turning your face toward his but you notice his eyes aren’t meeting yours and he’s no longer smiling. His eyes are all over your body from the top of your head all the way down to where your feet meet the floor. “What about some dessert?” He asks with that smirk finally coming back as his green orbs lock on yours. You feel yourself turn red from his stare. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter so you just nod your head and keep eye contact to see what he has in mind. He keeps his gaze on yours as he starts to move closer. You feel your breath get stuck in your throat as he set his hand on your knee and leans into your ear. “I know I should let you pick what’s for dessert,” you feel his hand dragging up your thigh while the other one finds its place behind your neck “but let me eat this pussy instead, ok pretty girl?” You feel yourself shiver. Thank god you agreed to dinner.

Toji pulled back to connect his lips to yours. You melt into the kiss, allowing him to devour your mouth with his as he slips his tongue past your lips. His hands are now at your waist pulling you onto his lap to straddle him. Your hands have finally made their way into his hair and on the back of his neck. Your lips briefly fought with his for dominance, but he easily over powered you. His hands were now running down your back and gripping your ass. You feel yourself moan into the kiss and his hands start to rock you against his bulge directly beneath you. You haven’t seen his cock yet but you can feel that it’s huge. You feel yourself practically dripping into your panties. You pull away from the kiss to catch your breath. “Fuck pretty girl, can you feel what you do to me?” He asks grinding his hips up to meet yours with a harsh but slow thrust. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you since you knocked on my door that day.” He admits letting out a small grunt. You whine “Can’t stop thinking about y-you either” his lips are pressing against your jaw as his hands are pulling up the sweater your wearing. “Yeah? You think about me when you touch yourself? I can hear you moaning like a slut through the walls.” Your movements halt for a moment. He could hear you this whole time? How embarrassing. He smacks your ass “I want you to use your words pretty. You think about me?” You felt so small but so good it didn’t even matter. “I think about you all the time” you admit. His arms finish taking off your sweater and are now wrapping around your waist picking you up and walking you to assumably his bedroom.

Your shirt was left in the living room and your bra was taken off in the hallway all while Toji kept his lip on yours. You feel yourself getting thrown onto his mattress. His bed smelled amazing. Like sunflowers and musk. You hope this isn’t your only time in here. Within moments his shirts off and he pounces on you. Kissing your lips once more before kissing down your throat and making his way to your hardened nipples. “Look at that. So cute.” He says as he leans down to start flicking his tongue on one nipple and twist the other between his fingers. All his touches are sending shockwaves straight to your clit. You feel so whiney from the slightest bit of foreplay and it’s not even the best part. Toji tugs at one of your nipples gently with his teeth as you feel his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants. He manages to take them off successfully with one hand which left you in only the lacy lilac panties you were hoping he could see on you. You feel like an absolute mess. Your hands as gripping his shoulders like your life depends on it as he keeps moving his lips lower and lower. You breath is coming out in pants from anticipation. He finally makes it to the waist line if your panties before pulling away and using his hands to spread your thighs. “Look at that. You wore these just for me?” He asks teasingly as he drags his middle finger over your clothed core, feeling the wet spot in the center. “Mhmm” you nod in agreement. He slaps your pussy, displeased with the lack of words and you quickly correct yourself “Yes s-sir” Your beet red. How does a stranger have this much control over you. You feel like if he said to cum you would cum on the spot. “Good girl, now just lay there and let me make things up to you”

Toji was being a tease. He took his sweet ass time kissing up and down both of your thighs, dragging his tongue along the insides of your legs until he finally places one sweet kiss on your clothed clit. You couldn’t even contain the moan that leaves your mouth. He starts to lick at your wet mound through the panties. “T-toji please” you beg wanting to actually feel him use his mouth. “Please what pretty girl? You want me to take them off?” He asked while toying with the waist band, leaving more kisses to your clothed pussy. “Yes please. Wan feel your mouth.” You practically beg looking down at the man between your thighs.

He places on last kiss on your panties before slipping them to the side and licking a long stripe up from your hole to your clit. You feel any breath in your lungs leave at the sensation. Toji is relentless. He keeps licking at your hole like he’s a starved man. He is switching from sucking to slurping to licking to flicking in the perfect way. You moans are uncontrollable at this point. Your legs keep trying to close around his head but his strong hands are keeping them pried open while your back remains arched off the bed. Your hands are on the back of his head keeping him there as he laps at your clit. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but lay there and take it. His mouth is all over your pussy and you feel your clit twitching waiting to release. Toji could feel you getting closer to your release and decides to slip a finger in your hole. He pumps his finger in 2 times before you’re shaking and spasming around his finger. Your eyes have tears building in your lash line from the intensity of the orgasm you just had wash over you but Toji was far from done. He sits up on his elbows to look at you from between your thighs with his finger still curling upwards inside you. “Who told you to cum? -I don’t think I allowed you too slut.” He pulls his finger out momentarily to slap your pussy before shoving 2 fingers back in.

Your whining as Toji fingers you through your orgasm. The pace his fingers are pumping in and out of you is making the most lewd noises of squelching. You’re trying to apologize but you feel like there’s no air in the room. The only thing on your mind is Toji. He slows his pace and finally pulls his fingers out only to sit up on his knees and grab you by the hair in your head, pulling you up to your knees on the bed into a heated kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he prods at your mouth. “You gonna be a good girl and choke on this dick or do I need to make you?” he says grabbing your face to where your cheeks are squeezed close enough together your lips pucker. You nod your head unable to give a verbal response and he allows it this time. You automatically move to the end of the bed when Toji releases your face and lies down. You get on your hands and knees between his legs and start to unbuckle his pants. He’s moving his hand to cup your jaw and drag his finger over your lip. “Look at you. You look like a mess already. Gonna make a mess on my cock pretty girl?” He asks. “Yes sir” you whimper. After pulling his pants down you start to palm at his bulge through his boxers. He grabs you by your hair again and pulls your face down onto his lap. He then grinds his hard bulge up onto your cheek, like a pet rubbing their face on their owner. “Open” is all he says before pulling his cock out to which you gladly oblige. He pulls you up by your hair and places your open mouth over his tip. One thing you were confident in was sucking some dick. Toji keeps his hand in your hair but lets move as you wish, like a dog on a leash. You place a chaste kiss on the tip before sticking your tongue out and dropping your mouth down onto his length before closing your lips around it and sucking. Moaning around his length at the feeling of him in your mouth. You bob your head slowly to take as much of him as you can. You could hear his breathing falter the farther you went down. “Fuck. Takin me so well” he said gently guiding your head up and down at a bit of a faster pace. His cock was big, but the girth is where you were struggling. Once he started hitting the back of your throat you were gagging. You moved your hand to grab his balls while you were taking his cock down your throat. You can feel the spit just sliding down your mouth to his balls. He lets out a low grunt as you feel him shift his legs. He plants his feet on the mattress with his knees bent. He starts to buck his hips up at a steadily increasing pace until he fucking your mouth. You can feel your drool all over your mouth, your neck, his lap, and he isn’t letting up. You just keep gagging, trying to breathe through your nose as you look up at him with runny mascara and wet cheeks from the spit and tears. You can’t help but moan from how good you feel. Toji looks so good fucking your mouth, you just keep imagining how he would look pounding you into the mattress. “Just like that pretty girl. Take it like a good little slut.” You moan around his cock. You want nothing more than to please this man right now. His pace keeps up for a little bit longer before his hips stutter “F-fuck you better swallow what I give you or I won’t let you cum again.” And with that he brings your nose to his pelvis one more time before releasing down your throat. You can barely even taste it he had you pulled so far down. You choke a little bit but you swallow every drop. You didn’t want him to be done yet, no matter how tired and fucked out you were.

He pulls you off of his cock by your hair and brings your face to his. “Show me your tongue.” You open your mouth with your tongue sticking out so he can see that you did what you were told and swallowed. He didn’t say it but he thought you looked so fucking gorgeous. Your eyes were glossy from the tears, mascara running down your face, cheeks were pink and wet from the slobber, lips red and swollen from him fucking your face, you just looked so fucked out and desperate he could’ve came again just from the sight. “Look at how pathetic you are.” He spits into your mouth and then brings you in for a sloppy kiss. It’s basically all tongue. All your doing it’s tasting each other. Swapping spit and sucking each others tongues while you both catch your breath. “All that just from a little bit of cock hm? You think you can take some more?” “Yes please” you whimper.

He rolls you onto your back spreading your legs again. His cock is already hard again as he’s sliding it up and down your folds. “Beg for it” he smirks making sure the tip is rubbing on your clit. “Please fuck me toji.” You say blushing again basically whispering what you want from the man. “You just let me fuck your throat and now you wanna act shy? Beg for it or I can help you get dressed.” He says slapping your thigh while still rubbing his hardened member through your folds. Your wetness keeps building up as he teases your cunt. It’s getting sloppier and wetter by the second. “Please fuck me sir. I want your cock so bad. I can’t stop thinking about it since I took over here” you admit whining from the friction but desperate for more. “Aw is my little landlord desperate for me? You want me to fill you up with my cock?” He teases with that smirk. “Yes sir I want it so bad. Wanna feel you inside me daddy please?” You beg and he delivers. Pulling back one last time to thrust his cock into you. He give you a moment to adjust to the size. You feel like your legs have gone numb. He lowers his forehead to rest on yours with his arms caging around your head as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. Short and shallow thrusts slowly progress to fast and deep thrust. “F-fuck this lil pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like getting fucked by your tenant?” Your moans are loud and breathy. Your hands are gripping his shoulders again. You feel like he’s knocking the wind out of you with every thrust. “Yes feels sgood” you manage to say while whining. Your able to open your eyes every few seconds before Toji manages to hit that spongy spot inside you that sends your eyes rolling in the back of your head “Yea? You look so dumb right now. Your gettin fucked stupid on daddy’s dick aren’t you?” He says grunting. His words, his moans, the wet slaps you keep hearing, it’s all adding to the heat in your stomach that keeps building. Toji can feel you clenching around his cock. He took your legs and pushed them into your chest as he starts relentlessly pounding into you. “If you wanna cum you better use your words.” His hips don’t falter. He keeps up his brutal pace waiting for your response. “C-can I cum please” you beg as best as you can. Unable to really speak without stuttering. “Thank me, say thank you daddy and I’ll let you cum.” “T-thank you daddyyy feels ssgood please let me cum” he reaches his hand down to you clit. Rubbing harsh circles as he keeps pounding into you but his hips are starting to stutter as he reaches his release too. “Cum with me baby, cum on my cock.” That was all he had to say as you let out a silent scream, clenching around his cock as your body shakes with an even more intense orgasm. Your eyes fly open with your mouth in the shape of an “o” as Toji releases inside you. Letting out the prettiest moan you’ve heard. His hips slow down as he fucks you through your orgasm until he hissed from the sensitivity and pulled out collapsing on top of you.

You’re both out of breath, sticky, and tired. You let your fingers gently glide along his back for a few minutes before he gets up from on top of you. “Wait here” he goes and gets a wet rag to clean you up where you need it most. He’s still catching his breath as he starts going through his drawers. You finally get a good look at his bedroom and it’s lovely. Your head is still spinning about what’s just happened. Eventually Toji has put some new boxers on and your still left naked on his bed. You feel yourself blush assuming it’s your time to get dressed and leave. You start to sit up when something soft hits your chest. “It’ll probably be too big but it’ll work right princess?” He asks grabbing one more thing before turning to face you. You pick up what was thrown at you and it was one of his T shirts. You look up at him with a smile and nod. He gets back in the bed with you after you’ve put the big shirt on. He pulls you into his chest as you guys begin to talk about life. What it was like growing up, hobbies, embarrassing stories, it’s sweet. It’s almost like he didn’t just re-arrange your guts but it’s nice. Eventually you drift asleep while in his arms.

You wake up to the alarm that was set on your phone. Sitting up you remember the events of last night but you don’t see Toji anywhere. You need to head back to your apartment for fresh clothes and a shower. You have to get to your office to print out some pamphlets before giving a few apartment tours. You’re a little sad as you get up to do the walk of shame that’s about 12 feet to your apartment. When you reach his door to leave you notice there’s a note taped to the door.

“Sorry sweets, had a job early this morning and didn’t wanna wake you. I know you have a master key so can you lock my door? Don’t be mad at me. Let me make it up to you tonight? ;)

Ps have a good day <3

xxx-xxx-xxxx -Toji”

You couldn’t be more thrilled to have a shitty tenant.

🖤🖤AHHAHHAAH FIRST FIC KINDA NERVOUS. Please let me know any requests. I’m still trying to figure out how to post and things of that nature. Please do not repost my work elsewhere without my permission. 🖤🖤

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allzelemonz · 1 year

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His Boy, Part 1: Reunited

Dutch Van der Linde X Male Reader X Colm O’Driscoll

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, dub-con Warnings: Mentions of non-con of another character, dub-con, kidnapping, possessive behavior, possessive sex, past relationship, forced cheating, Reader is an asshole O’Driscoll, mentions of past sex, begging, fisting, anal fingering, anal sex, biting, marking, choking, mentions of past Dutch/Hosea, Dutch/Susan, and Dutch/Annabelle Summary: You’re returned to Dutch after all these years.

The sack over your head is both blinding and uncomfortable. The itchy fabric rubs against your skin in a way that makes you feel the need to shake your head. It was a long ride, now on your feet you can at least struggle. You know the men that hold you, used to be like odd sons to you, John and Arthur. They’re strong boys, able to hold you between them. You’d be proud if you weren’t their captive. When they force you to your knees you know what you’ll see before they even take the bag off.

And there he stands, just as you pictured, Dutch Van der Linde.

He hasn’t changed much over the years and it’s only been a few months since you last saw his face. He’s just as arrogant as he was, just as full of himself, and annoyingly just as handsome. To his right, as usual, is Hosea. He glares at you as he always had. He never thought you were good for Dutch, he told you so. You assumed it was jealousy but after you left it became clear it was regular hatred.

Dutch says your name in a venomous tone, his hands on his hips and his face twisted to show his disgust in seeing you again

“Dutch.” You return, a sting running through your lip from where Arthur busted it.

“Where’d ya find ‘em?” Hosea asks.

John nudges you. “With a bunch a’ Colm’s boys.”

“Lucky we saw ‘em.” Arthur drawls. “Nearly shot ‘em like the rest.”

“Good work, boys.” Dutch steps forward. “I would like to speak to our guest alone now, gentlemen.”

Hosea looks down at you for a moment before he glances at his friend. “Dutch I-”

“Alone.” Dutch emphasizes.

With one more look at you, Hosea ushers his sons away with him. They were always his boys, more than yours and even more than Dutch’s. At best, you got to play the distant step-father. Given the busted lip from Arthur and the pounding headache from John’s abuse, they hardly see you as the father figure you once were. Granted, you have changed a lot since you left Dutch’s bed for Colm’s.

And Dutch knows that. “Been a long time.”

You glare up at him as your knees begin to ache with the pressure from the hard floor of the shack and your wrists start throb from your tight bindings.

“Colm treat you well?”

You chuckle to yourself, knowing exactly how to get under your former sweetheart’s skin. “Ask Annabelle.”

His foot connects with your chest before you can blink. The air leaves your lungs and you hit the floor, falling on your side. Still, you manage to keep a smile just to bother the man.

“Keep her name outta your mouth, boy.” He threatens, kneeling down to your level and shoving a finger into your face.

“Why?” You finally catch your breath. “She never stopped saying mine while Colm was having his way, said you told her about me.” You fix a grin onto your face even though you never quite agreed with Colm’s handling of that matter. “Suppose she thought I’d help her.”

Dutch winds his fingers into your hair and pulls you onto your stomach, pressing a knee into your back as he releases his grip. “You let him?”

You groan from the pressure on your ribs. “Colm never touched her like that but his boys sure had-”

Dutch grips your hair again, lifting your head before slamming it into the floor. You gasp and groan as your head pounds in pain. Dutch’s words barely reach your ears.

“What happened to you?”

His hand releases your hair, still resting on your head but with a soft touch instead of a heavy one. You catch your breath, trying to focus on things other than the throbbing of your brain against your skull.

“Got… bored…” You breathe out. “Colm’s a… lot more fun.”

You feel Dutch’s hand leave your head as he shuffles behind you. The sensations are hard to place with the fog that’s come over your mind but the feeling of cool air on your bare skin is hard to miss. Dutch has pulled your pants off. Your mind focuses at the realization, still pounding but now fueled by a need to self-preserve.

“D-Dutch?”

You feel his hands spreading your ass open as he settles back behind you. “Don’t get shy now, darling.”

His thumb, coated in something wet, circles around your hole and you hiss at the feeling. He keeps this going for a while, and knowing Dutch, he’s just enjoying the sight. You fight the urge to move against him despite only wanting him to put his fingers inside of you. The feeling is a ghost in your memory but you’d never fully forget what his fingers felt like.

Then he does it, he stops spreading you open and lets one hand grip your hip while he roughly shoves the fingers of his other hand as deep as he can get them. It’s nearly his full hand and it makes you have to bite your lip not to scream. Your teeth reopen the cut Arthur caused and as Dutch wriggles the rest of his hand inside, blood enters your mouth. His fist is coated in something slick and you’re thankful for that, but he’s stretching you so much that it hardly matters. He’s never done this before but it feels so strangely good.

He leans over you, putting his lips against the shell of your ear. “Colm fuck you like I do?”

When you don’t answer, he moves his hand and you can’t stop the scream that takes your body. It feels so good but so painful and you don’t want it to stop. Tears form in your eyes as he makes a point to roughly fuck you with his fist. His lips attach to your neck while his other hand holds you still, every inch of your body burns with sparks of pain while the pleasure is only in the slight brush of his thumb against your prostate.

Dutch growls against your skin and you have the sense to recall just how marked up Colm likes to keep you. Your neck, your chest, every inch the man can get to while he fucks you is usually covered and even more spaces from when he’s not occupied. This apparently doesn’t sit well with Dutch. He pulls his fist from you as he sits up and you do all you can not to scream again, still not managing to hold back whimpers and pathetic sounding curses that sound nothing like your own voice.

You have a moment of peace and you can only press your head against the cold floor as a comfort. There is not a single memory in your fogged mind of Dutch ever being so rough. The possessive growl, that’s the Dutch you know, but everything else is so far from who you used to share a bed with. It scares you.

So when you feel his hand on your hip again you gather your breath. “Please, Dutch…”

“What’s that, my boy?” Dutch mocks as his hand moves up under your shirt. “Something you’d like ta say?”

The tears in your eyes burn as you try to blink them away. “Please stop… please, Dutch.”

His lips come up to your ear again. “You can do better than that.”

“I can’t take any more, Dutch.”

Dutch’s fingers dig into your skin and you wince. “I know.”

“It’s still me, Dutch.” You sigh, trying to find some way out of this. “I-I’m still that man you-”

Now his nails nip at your skin. “I what?”

“You cared about me, didn’t you, Dutch?” You can breathe again when he moves, no longer feeling any part of him. “I love Colm but-”

Dutch’s hands are on your hips in an instant as he pushes himself into you. The stretch from his fist hardly helps and you can still feel every inch of him as he enters. He presses himself against you, grinding as his balls rest flat on your skin. He leans back over you, kissing your jaw and nipping at your ear.

“You love the bastard.” He growls. “But you think about me when he fucks you, don’t you, my boy?”

You whimper as he presses his hips so hard into your that you can feel the friction of your dick rubbing against the harsh floor. “T-That’s… No.”

His lips spread into a smile against your skin. “You’ve always been mine.” He presses a soft kiss to your neck. “Always will be.”

He doesn’t give any warning, no preparation, he just starts moving his hips at a quick pace. The sound of his heavy breaths fills your ears as he fucks you. You whine from the sensitivity of his rough prepping and it makes him smile against your skin again. He presses kisses with every few thrusts, biting when he adds a bit of a rotation.

“Still think you’re Colm’s?” He mutters in your ear.

“Dutch…” Is all you can manage to get out and it sounds pathetic.

“You left me high and dry.” He says as his free hand reaches up to enclose around your throat despite the odd angle. “Been needin’ ya fer so long.”

“Fuck, Dutch…” You whine, feeling your end coming close from his words. He’s always been good with his words.

“Cum, now.” He orders. “For me.”

You do, your dick twitching beneath you and releasing spurts of warm cum on your shirt, your skin, and the floor. Now Dutch squeezes at your throat as he leans back a bit to fuck you faster. Your head throbs from the blows it’s taken and the new lack of air but you can very much feel Dutch’s ruthless thrusts falter as he fills you up. His hands loosen, both the one on your hip and the one on your throat. But Dutch still holds you so he can grind into you despite his softened dick. You whimper from the overstimulation but you’re very familiar with this possessive little ritual, Dutch always likes to make sure his seed is spread nicely inside of you and he loves to push the excess out around his own dick.

“Don’t matter where you go, my boy.” He says, finally pulling out. “You’re mine.”

You shiver from the cold absence of his body against yours and your legs instinctively fold in as you turn on your side. The pain becomes apparent now, focused in your shoulders from your bound hands and your ass from Dutch’s handling. You can hear the sound of boots, belt buckles, both coming closer until Dutch kneels behind you and his hand rests on your hip again.

“Tell me who you belong to.” He says softly.

You gather everything you have left, every sense of loyalty both as a gang member and a sweetheart. “Colm O’Driscoll.”

Dutch’s hand tightens on your hip and he pulls you so you lay on your back. “Try again, boy.”

“I…” You take a shaky breath. “I never loved you, Dutch.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes boring into yours. “I am one man you can’t lie to, my dear.”

Your words have failed so you gather the saliva in your mouth and spit on Dutch’s face. He wipes it off with a bare hand and reaches down to then clean it off with your shirt.“Think about it then, my dear.” He stands, glaring down at you. “I have all the time in the world.”

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x male reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 years

Text

Love Song for a Vampire Pt.23

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 1806

Summary: You tell Alice that you have a way to fix everything.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39

“What does it feel like when you shift?” Evita asks you once she had gathered all the stones she needed. You’re both heading back to Sam’s so that he could drive you to Port Angeles. While it was for the warding spell, you were excited to get out of the small bubble that was La Push. It had been so long since you had last broken free from the comforts of the rez. And you were really starting to like Evita. Hanging out with her was starting to feel so natural. Her personality was warm and inviting. The fact that she was part of your world helped a great deal too. You had a few female friends at school, but there was so much you had to keep from them. Things that would probably scare them.

Not Evita though. She’d even seen things that you had yet to experience. All for the best if the lechuza was the worst of it.

To the best of your abilities, you described the shivering sensation that took hold of you in the beginning before each individual cell in your body burst. Phasing released the wolf that lay under the surface of your skin. Shedding free the human exoskeleton, you were powerful.

Almost back in the perimeter of Sam’s backyard, Evita stops and turns to you. “Ah yes. I forgot about something. I’ll need something of both you and Edward’s to perform the bond cutting spell. Preferably something that has your DNA on it. If that’s even possible to acquire from vampires.”

Blood, saliva or hair were all acceptable. Immediately a blood sample was out of the question. Vampires didn’t bleed. Getting either of the other two required you to actually tell Edward what you were planning with Evita. He’d approve of it though. . . If it allowed Bella to come back to him, surely he would want to try anything and everything.

You tell Evita that you’d be right back. You want to have everything ready for when both of you return from Port Angeles. The sooner the better. And if it fails, at least you could say you tried.

The path to the Cullen house was becoming so familiar to you. How many times had you taken this same route? Taking the porch steps two at a time now opposed to your tentative steps when you were first invited over.

Alice opens the door the moment your foot steps on the welcome mat. “(Y/n)! It’s good to see you!”

You smile, sharing the same pleasantries before getting down to business. “Evita says she has a way to absolve the imprinting. If this works then we won’t even have to worry about the Volturi coming here again!”

Her frown wasn’t something you’d anticipated. “Oh.”

“Is he home?” You press on while silently observing the subtle change in her features. Disappointment remains on her petite face.

“He’s actually with Carlisle. Their taking Carmen and Eleazor to meet Bella.”

Brows lift up in astonishment. From Jacob, you heard that Charlie was adamant on keeping a distance between Bella and the Cullens. Edward was never his favorite but now his dislike curdled into hatred. Hating that all along, Bella had been in danger for so many months and he was the last to know the truth.

Without having telepathic capabilities, even Alice understood the surprise that widened your eyes. “The only reason why they’re allowed over is because of Carlisle and the fact that Bella may still be in danger.”

“Well. . . I guess it could wait until he gets back. Um, do vampires even produce saliva?” The question you ask as a second thought.

“(y/n). . . Do you really want to do this?”

Gaping at her in utter confusion, you find yourself looking down at the wood of the front porch. “I- yes. Yes I want to do this. It would fix all of our problems.”

Alice didn’t seem to think so. Her continued frowning told you as much. She tears her citrine stare away to look off to the side. “I don’t want to interfere or tell you what to do. But I don’t think this is something you should mess around with. If you and Ed are meant to be together-“

“We’re not though. Everything about us just doesn’t make sense. Regardless of fate, this is a mistake. We’re not bound to each other out of love. We’ve hardly had the proper time to get to know one another.” You shake your head. Out of all the things about being a wolf, imprinting was a deal breaker. If Evita was able to succeed, then not just you but everyone else in your pack could have a semblance of power back in your control. What happened with Sam could be prevented. “And what he and Bella had. . . I don’t think that’s something that can be easily erased with something like imprinting.”

Edward was willing to wage a war for her against powerful enemies. That was a special kind of love. That’s what you saw in shows and read in books. A mere fling wouldn’t risk their life.

Viciously, you rub your fist along your eyes that well up with tears. Alice must have already seen them for she reaches a hand out to comfort you but you shirk away from her touch. More so embarrassed than anything else. Hastily you compose yourself and attempt to speak again past the wavering quality of your voice. “This has to be done.”

She’s at a loss of what to say to stop you. You saw how it pained her.

Taking a deep breath, you make your way down the streps slowly. “I’ll text to him to give me a call when he can.” Inside you full heartedly acknowledged Alice may not relay a message due to her evident reluctance.

Behind you, you catch the sound of her shoe scuffing against the boards; preparing to go after you. After that first step though, Alice stops. Instead her heavy gaze drills into your back. Each like a mournful arrow.

She should be happy.

This would stop anymore fighting and you could continue with your life.

“If you two don’t make sense, then why are you the only shape-shifter I can see the future of?” Her voice has a bite, pulling you to a halt.

This may very well be her only opening. Alice took whatever chance she got her hands on. “The visions are painful, but they come to me when you’re in great danger. When I try to look into the future regarding the other wolves. . . I just get a splitting headache with no result. I know this just can’t be a mistake. You need to accept that.”

That did it. Warm and shameful, they slid down your cheeks and dribble onto the front of your shirt. Forcing your legs to move, you held your breath; refusing to breathe until you breach the trees that line their estate. Ignoring the buzzing in your ears that make your lips tremble.

Wasn’t this the right thing to do?

For the third time in five minutes, Edward tried to ignore the nagging vibrations of his phone along with the vague call of Alice’s voice echoing in his mind. Now was not the time.

The four vampires sat awkwardly in Chief Swan’s living room. Said man stood behind the armchair which his daughter presided in.

Bella.

She looked better, much better since the last time Edward had seen her. Healthy although still pale but that was her usual palor.

Her rich, chestnut eyes keep his attention. At least she was looking at him. Under her dark lashes were faint blue bruises that whisper to Edward her lack of sleep.

“It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, Bella.” Carmen smiled to ease the suffocating air in the room. Men were such volatile idiots.

Bella brought up a small smile that did little to ease the tension set in her jaw. “Edward has told me so many things about the Denali coven. It’s good to meet you too.” That was true. Edward had said good things about the Alaskan vampires and Bella really was happy to meet some other vampires that were civil. The fact that they were here though didn’t bode well.

Abruptly, Alice’s voice screams at him from miles away. Edward stood to excuse himself and rush into the kitchen where he fished out his phone and finds Alice’s name on his phone. The calls he had missed were from her.

What could be so urgent?

“Alice?” He held the phone up to his ear.

“Edward! About time! You have to stop (y/n).” Her voice is tersely clipped. “She’s going to have that witch break the imprint.”

Fear actually made him feel ill. Thumping heavily in his gut. Whether it was possible did cross his mind, but he’d learned by now that anything could exist and anything was possible. Even witches. Again (y/n) was going to try to defy her lupine instinct that as ingrained in all Quileute shape-shifters. Last time nearly got both (y/n) and Sam killed.

He made for the back door in the kitchen that led outside. Bella’s voice from the living room has Edward pausing. If he stayed and let (y/n) go through with whatever she was planning, then maybe Bella would go back to him.

If he left, he would officially be choosing a life with the wolf girl. A girl he hardly knew.

And yet, all he could think of was (y/n)’s smile. All he could hear was her laugh. She was warm and being around her felt like home. He could truly be himself around her. Monster and all. She would understand.

A life with her certainly wouldn’t be easy. Not like a life with Bella had been simple either. Vampires and wolves were on opposites sides of a spectrum. By nature they were enemies.

Against all odds though, (y/n) and Edward had proven to be the perfect match. She was his other half that Edward had been searching for in Bella.

Teeth biting into his bottom lip, Edward pivots and goes back to the living room where all eyes are on him. "I apologize but I have to leave."

"Is everything okay?" Carlisle immediately asked, preparing to stand up from the couch but Edward shook his head.

"Everything is fine. I just. . . I forgot I had something to do. Alice called to remind me." Anxiously he casts a glance at Bella who was trying to read what was really going on underneath his complacent words. Could she tell that he was about to permanently change his life?

Edward Carlisle and the Denali couple that he would see them back at home. For now though he had to leave immediately.

——————————

TAGLIST: @saltedcoffeescotch , @dangerouslittlefairy , @burn-crash-rqmance , @casedoina , @avadakadabra93 , @daryldixonstorm , @blue-aconite , @xanniestired666 , @esposadomd, @godinho11 , @arin-swear-rose , @alexizodd , @melaninsugarbaby , @lyeatoalinatoheaven , @ronwownsme , @itsmytimetoodream , @afro-hispwriter , @mutandis-extremis993 , @hxgemxscles , @nightly-polaris , @corrodedcoffins-slut , @ellesalazar , @itgetzweird08 , @crybabyatthediscooffandoms , @sassyandclassyx , @scarlet2007 , @theroyalbrownbarbie , @jennyamanda8 , @stevenandmarcslove , @biancaindaeyo , @loversjoy , @turningtoclown , @vixorell , @xxthackerybinxxx , @daredevilonmyheels , @dumbbitch-juice , @southern-bell-give-hell

#edward cullen #edward cullen fanfic #edward cullen fanfiction #edward cullen x reader #twilight #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight fandom #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

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snwpcktz · 1 year

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A GAME OF CRUELTY (pt. 1, teaser)

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader (ft. heeseung)

GENRE: hunger games au (pre second rebellion), neighbors to friends to lovers, angst

SYNOPSIS: after years of praying to not get picked for the reaping, the odds end up not being in y/n’s favor and she is chosen as district 7’s female tribute. she plans to simply sacrifice herself early, since it would be nearly impossible for her to beat all the other tributes and make it back safely to her now ex-boyfriend, ethan. but her perspective of the games change when her next door neighbor, jay, is chosen as the male tribute—and maybe her feelings towards him will change, too.

WARNINGS: mature themes (violence, death), major character death, descriptions of violence and injuries, love triangle, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the binary genders to refer to the reaping tributes

WC: 1.4k (teaser)

NOTE: hello!! this fic is set in the year before katniss and peeta's events, so there's not a lot of information for me to base this off of. there might be inaccuracies, but i try my best to keep things true to the story!! i hope to release the full pt. 1 sometime this week or next week, but pt. 2 will probably take longer. if you'd like to be added to the taglist, please reply to this post and i will add you!! thank you and please enjoy this teaser :)

rows of teenagers stood in front of the hall of justice, surrounded by members of the capitol with cameras and film equipment. peacekeepers had already flooded the district, running identification checks and bordering the area for the reaping. y/n could still feel her finger throbbing from the prick she received mere minutes ago as she stood in line.

the large screens next to the stage had already began running, displaying the various members of district 7. y/n could spot a pixelated version of herself, clad in a modest white sundress and matching white ballet flats. she turned her head to the left, spotting ethan standing in his row in no time.

but he wasn't looking at her. he kept his head forward, a solemn gaze on his face. y/n turned her head back around, letting out a pained sigh. she knew that whatever emotions he was feeling at the moment could never be experienced by her, a girl who lived in an only child household in a moderately well off neighborhood. but she couldn't help but feel selfish, desperately wanting ethan to be spared from the cruel hands of the reaping.

so she prayed. she clasped her hands together and lowered her head. please, she thought. please don't pick ethan. please let the odds be in his favor, just this once.

the sounds of footsteps coming to a stop and doors opening caused y/n to raise her head, eyes now fixated on the marble building in the front. members of the district government and previous victors of district 7 entered the stage, followed by a woman with a bright smile on her face.

luxurious, velvety, emerald green clothing adorned her body along with a matching sun hat and dozens of gold jewelry. her heels clicked on the wooden stage as she made her way towards the podium, perfectly glossed lips framing her pearly smile.

"welcome! welcome, welcome," she announced, her cheery voice echoing throughout the area. "once again, i am your district escort, tiffany young! happy hunger games! and may the odds be ever in your favor."

tiffany cleared her throat before continuing, "now! before we begin, we have a very special film brought to you all the way from the capitol!"

she raised her glove-clothed arm towards the screen as a video began playing. "war. terrible war," president snow's voice boomed from the speakers.

y/n noticed several girls around her rolling their eyes. she couldn't blame them. it was boring having to watch the same video every single year, especially when it did barely any justification for the games.

she turned her head to look behind her at the crowd of parents. she spotted her mom, head down and whispering words, most likely prayers for her daughter. her father was next to her, a comforting arm wrapped around his wife as he stoically gazed at the screen.

it was just like every year. what was there to worry about?

y/n glanced at ethan. he had the same expression as her father, but she could see that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. a soft sigh left her lips. there was one thing to worry about--ethan.

she decided to pray once more, lowering her head and squeezing her eyes shut.

please, pick anyone but ethan. i beg for you to spare him.

"this is how we remember our past," the voice of president snow stated. "this is how we safeguard our future."

"what a remarkable film!" tiffany gushed as the music began to quiet. "now, the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing district 7 in the 73rd annual hunger games."

y/n felt her heartbeat quicken as she watched the escort's smile grow. "as usual, ladies first."

tiffany walked to the reaping bowl with poise, heels echoing in the silence that overwhelmed the district. she reached a gloved hand in, fishing for an entry slip. she gently selected one, returning to the podium elegantly.

tiffany took the liberty to clear her throat as she undid the delicate tape on the paper slip. she glanced at the crowd before announcing the name with a smile.

"y/n l/n."

the world stopped for a moment. y/n couldn't prevent the ringing in her ears as her lips parted in shock. the pounding in her chest increased to a ridiculous speed as the girls around her turned, isolating her from the crowd. her hands grew clammy as tiffany laid her eyes on her, the smile on her face appearing more sinister than before.

"come on up, dear!" the escort called, her voice sounding sickly sweet in y/n's ears.

y/n's feet moved slowly, dragging against the gravel on the ground as she passed by her fellow civilians. she didn't dare to look up from her pathway, shrinking at the feeling of thousands of eyes on her.

she could feel the peacekeepers behind her place their hands on her back, guiding her to the stage. her eyes were shaking, losing sight of each step she was taking.

she grasped onto the railing of the stairs, barely feeling the soles of her feet. she could see tiffany at the top of the stairs, reaching a hand out to her. "come, come!" she said to y/n, gesturing to her with her hand.

y/n gratefully took it, allowing the texture of her velvet gloves to bring her back to reality. tiffany placed her other hand on her shoulder, gently leading her to the left side of the podium.

"well, let's have a big hand for our first tribute, y/n l/n!" tiffany declared into the microphone.

the weak applause clouded y/n's head, contrasting the striking speed her heart was thumping at. she used the last of her strength and consciousness to lift her head, searching the crowd in front of her.

she could spot her mother's face, frozen with shock and panic. her father's mouth was open, completely bewildered and in disbelief. y/n moved her eyes to the crowd of teen boys, where she found ethan already staring straight at her, a fresh tear sliding down his cheek.

y/n swallowed thickly, not breaking the eye contact. here she was, standing on a stage that she never thought she would be standing on. her lips quivered as she gained the strength to mouth an "i love you", triggering a rush of tears to ethan's eyes.

she chose to cut the eye contact after that, unable to watch her ex-lover cry. she stared straight at the wooden floor, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to hold back the tears in her eyes.

"and now for the boys!" tiffany stated.

the escort walked to the reaping bowl on the opposite end of the stage, quickly plucking a slip from its depths and returning to the podium. she let out a small hum before unfolding the slip.

"jay park."

y/n raised her head to look at the crowd. the boys had distanced themselves from the said person, who looked just as surprised as y/n was when she was chosen.

y/n recognized him. he was her next door neighbor, a boy known for being respectful and hard-working. at just a year older than y/n, he was preparing to enter the workforce full-time, learning the ups and downs of his family's lumber business. he was known to be skilled with axes and saws, his muscular arms and broad chest proof of it all.

he wore a white dress shirt and black slacks, dark hair slicked with gel and neatly combed. the peacekeepers guided him to the stage, his dress shoes sounding every step he took up the wooden stairs. he stood on the other side of the podium, observing the crowd from his new perspective.

y/n turned to ethan, a part of her relieved that he wasn't picked. but he clearly did not feel the same, his eyes now red and cheeks stained with tears. he looked at y/n so hopelessly, it made her feel ashamed for feeling even a bit of relief.

"shake hands, you two!" tiffany's voice said, snapping y/n out of her trance.

she glanced at jay, whose eyes were already on her. they quickly joined hands, jay's large one wrapping around y/n's shaking one.

"happy hunger games!" tiffany announced, her smile brighter than before. "and may the odds be ever in your favor."

taglist: @kpopstanmeg

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artpo · 1 year

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Episode 7 Kinn x Porsche post no. 2

At the beginning of the episode, Porsche had the chance to be hit with reality after woods before Kinn.

This contrast shows in how they treat each other. Porsche still seems careful with showing his feelings, while Kinn lets him know he's worrying and caring.

Porsche worries that everything would go back to the way it was and he's right, because Kinn didn't treat him well before. As sweet as Kinn is being, it can't magically erase everything.

Porsche's fear becomes the truth for the moment, because as soon as Kinn talks to Korn, he's back to his old ways of communicating. He's no longer showing his worry with honesty, but rather with jealousy and snarky remarks.

Vegas cleverly utilizes the tension between Kinn and Porsche to unravel the fact that Kinn shot Tawan in a twisted and untrue context. It leaves the wanted impact on Porsche which we later witness during the NC scene.

Their relationship has another up after this when Kinn visits Porsche the night before the mission. Kinn is again as he was at the beginning of the episode, showing how when Porsche’s life is in danger, nothing else matters to him.

Kinn's actions at the end of the episode are a product of worry, fear, and jealousy. He crosses the boundary that Porsche kept up for this exact reason. And now, knowing that Kinn shot Tawan, Porsche has one more reason to be shaken by Kinn's aggressive approach.

Porsche doesn't back down. He doesn't like what he sees and he lets Kinn know by a slap, followed by words that he knew would impact Kinn: I never should have loved a shitty man like you.

From the whole mess of feelings he has towards Kinn, in that moment Porsche acknowledges love. It felt like an admission to both Kinn and him.

After this, Kinn comes back to his senses, apologises for his behavior, kisses Porsche, wants to show him how sorry he is through a language that's the most familiar to both of them: physical one.

But Porsche isn't done reassuring him and putting him in his place. He takes charge. A message to Kinn that he can't have his way with him by treating him like crap and a message to Kinn that he's all about him.

Episode 7 rewarded us with one of the most impactful NC scenes I've ever witnessed in anything. The release of the characters is both physical and mental. The scene brings them to catharsis and temporarily erases their issues. It's a dance between I'm sorry and I forgive you, but on my own terms.

Not only do the feelings of Kinn and Porsche make this scene mind-blowing, but so does the incredible chemistry between Mile and Apo. I just want to applaud them for understanding the heart of the scene perfectly and gracing us with a top-notch delivery, done in stunning lighting and in one-shot.

Let's all praise the beauty that is episode 7, shall we?

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche meta #kprewatch2023 #zozo rewatches kp #ah this was long #i just have too many emotions can't deal

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tarounoden · 1 year

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FFXIV - Patch 6.4 Golbez Theory

Alright folks, this is the big one. I’d been holding off on going all-out on this theory for some time, if only because I felt I needed some more concrete evidence to support my point. But with the release of the Patch 6.4 Website, I now feel confident enough to speak up about what I think will be an upcoming twist in Patch 6.4; that being the reveal of Golbez’s true identity in Final Fantasy XIV. Spoiler warning for the FFXIV MSQ obviously; and spoilers for Final Fantasy IV as well while we’re at it, since it’s kinda hard to talk about Golbez’s identity without talking about the big twist in the original game.

Anyhow, let’s start by recollecting what little bits of information we know about Golbez; based on the cutscenes that he appears in (or is the subject of).

Golbez’s Cutscenes

Golbez has appeared directly in 10 cutscenes so far. They are as follows;

1. 6.1 A Brother's' Grief (Post-quest cutscene) 2. 6.2 Where Everything Begins (Echo flashback after instance) 3. 6.2 Nowhere to Run (Cutscene after walking segment) 4. 6.2 Buried Memory (Post-quest cutscene) 5. 6.2 Shadowed Pasts (Scarmiglione 2) 6. 6.2 Shadowed Pasts (Barbariccia 2) 7. 6.3 Desires Untold (Echo flashback after trial) 8. 6.3 Gods Revel, Lands Tremble (Post-quest cutscene) 9. 6.3 Shadowed Pasts Once More (Cagnazzo 2) 10. 6.3 Shadowed Pasts Once More (Rubicante 2)

Beyond these cutscenes, however, it’s also worth nothing that the scene of our conversation with Rubicante after #7 is massively important; as this scene directly states Golbez is hiding a secret desire beyond that of his planned crusade. I’ve labelled this one under the heading of “X. 6.3″.

Many of these cutscenes are hiding small hints that imply Golbez may be much more than he seems; and that his true identity may not be what some may initially assume. Let’s review.

1. 6.1 A Brother's' Grief (Post-quest cutscene) Our introduction to Golbez. He warps into the room with a wave of shadow engulfing him, and clutches his right fist, before doing a dramatic cape twirl leading with his left-hand.

Whilst it’s a small detail, I should note that in Dissidia, Golbez had a similar cape-flick in his fight intros; except he led with his right-hand there instead. This ties into another detail that I noticed in a later cutscene...

2. 6.2 Where Everything Begins (Echo flashback after instance) Golbez is named here, and whilst he hints about having other plans for Azdaja, this scene doesn't seem to be hiding much beyond what it tells us directly.

3. 6.2 Nowhere to Run (Cutscene after walking segment) Interestingly, despite his fears of a memoriate interfering in his plans, the patch 6.4 artwork seems to depict a memoria crystal by Golbez's side. Could Golbez be a memoriate himself? Unless he's half-voidsent (or even completely human) like Zero, he shouldn't have been able to retain that ability following the flood of darkness.

Golbez being (or having once been) a memoriate would also have interesting implications for his past. Given the ongoing theory that the power to wield memoria was a “blessing” granted by the Ascians, and with us later learning that Golbez has spoken to Ascians in his past, could it be that Golbez recieved some of his power from the Ascians directly? After all, the original Golbez’s famous twist was that he had been possesed by a greater evil; a greater evil associated with the moon (much like how the Ascian’s are associated with Zodiark and the moon by extension).

4. 6.2 Buried Memory (Post-quest cutscene)

"The prison of passivity is an obstacle to my cause. And so you must fall. What irony that the blessed damned should set us free!"

The line and scene that started many an MSQ theory. We all know it; that still image of Golbez striking down a robed figure that resembles the Watcher, foreshadowing the reveal of Golbez's headquarters, and furthermore the means by which he could achieve his goals. And yet, what if I told you there were two small details in this image that I haven't seen others note up to this point?

For one, Golbez's sword. Golbez is clearly wielding a Moonward Longsword here. The Moonward Longsword owes its design to the sword Cecil is depicted wielding in several pieces of official artwork for Final Fantasy IV; including several Amano artworks. See the above comparison; top left being (FFXIV) Golbez’s sword, top right being the Moonward Longsword, and the bottom being Cecil’s sword from the Amano art.

Secondly, Golbez is wielding the sword in his right-hand. Whilst this may be a superfluous detail, it should be noted that in his past appearances across the Final Fantasy series, Golbez has historically been a left-hander. Combined with Golbez using his left-hand for his cape flick instead of his right, I suspect that, for one reason or another, Golbez’s dominant hands have been deliberately mirrored for his FFXIV incarnation.

I should also note that Golbez is seen holding a different sword (alongside his Shadow Dragon) in the Patch Art for Patch 6.4. However even then, his sword seems to owe a few design queues from Cecil’s sword; with a grooved handle, a golden orb near the crossguard, and a blade that widens just after the crossguard before tapering off further down the edge. Interestingly, the crossguard on Golbez’s new sword is inverted, pointing towards the pommel rather than the tip of the blade. Finally, I should also note that Golbez is, once again, holding this sword in his right hand.

5. 6.2 Shadowed Pasts (Scarmiglione 2, Cutscene 2 in Unending Journey) Golbez's aether is described as "overwhelming" by Scarmiglione. It is unclear if Golbez has already feasted upon some of Azdaja's aether at this point (though it is possible). And if Golbez’s “overwhelming” aether didn’t come from Azdaja, then where did it come from? I have multiple theories. One possible source could be, as raised earlier, power recieved from Ascians. But there’s another possibility that may tie into Golbez’s supposed secret identity...

6. 6.2 Shadowed Pasts (Barbariccia 2, Cutscene 4 in Unending Journey) No notable details here.

7. 6.3 Desires Untold (Echo flashback after trial) Golbez reveals that he has, at some point, spoken to Ascians. In the French translation, Golbez uses the gendered-term "Ascianne" here, implying the Ascian he spoke with identified as a woman. Ergo, it is highly likely that the Ascian he spoke with was one we know was highly involved in their efforts on the Thirteenth; Igeyorhm.

We also finally confirm Golbez's goal; to invade and conquer the Source. And yet...

X. 6.3 Desires Untold (Cutscene after echo flasback, cutscene 6 in Unending Journey) Notably, after the echo flashback, Rubicante states that Golbez has a goal seperate to that of his plan to open a gateway to the Source. Quote;

"And perhaps your own will resonate with his...and draw forth that singular jewel which abides deep within his heart. A desire which lies beyond his quest to free us from our purgatory. A desire...all his own..."

We aren’t directly informed of what that desire is- However, I believe that it’s already been hinted at across the patches.

8. 6.3 Gods Revel, Lands Tremble (Post-quest cutscene) "The end to life on that star. And the end to my suffering..."

An interesting phrase, that. One that could have multiple meanings; as he’s gazing up at the 13th reflection of Etheirys as he says this line, one could probably assume that “that star” is the 13th reflection.

When Golbez says this, does he mean “life” as in living, and his plan to invade the source, ergo no longer having to “live” on the 13th? Is he speaking of his desire to escape the endless life of the 13th? Or is he perhaps being more cold; expressing a desire to end all life on the 13th reflection entirely? Could this darker interpretation be a hint as to Golbez’s true desires?

9. 6.3 Shadowed Pasts Once More (Cagnazzo 2) (Cutscene 2 in the Unending Journey)

Golbez defends himself from Cagnazzo's attack using a magical barrier that closely resembles Collective Unconcious. Leveva in the Astrologian quests describes the skill as;

"Aether is the building block of all that surrounds us, meaning that everything is connected. Someone closely attuned with that aether can, in a sense, link themselves with others, feeling their joy, feeling their pain. Scholars of the soul call this empathy. Crystal-gazers and card-readers call it the wheel of fortune. We astrologians call it collective unconsciousness."

Prior to its formal introduction as an Astrologian skill, Y'shtola employed a magical barrier that resembled Collective Unconcious at several points in the MSQ. It's interesting that Golbez is able to use a form of magic typically associated with healers; as several later releases of Final Fantasy IV made Golbez's lack of proficiency in healing magic a critical part of his backstory.

10. 6.3 Shadowed Pasts Once More (Rubicante 2) (Cutscene 4 in Unending Journey) Golbez describes his goals in an odd manner.

"It matters not who I am, but what I seek to do. Join me, and together we shall banish the Darkness and see that the sun rises again."

At this point, however, we would know this isn’t completely accurate- Golbez doesn’t want to banish the darkess at all; merely free the inhabitants of the void from it by leading them unto the source. Is he just being poetic here? Or does how he’s phrased his plans offer insight into his 'desire' that is seperate to his stated goals? After all, Rubicante was seemingly the only archfiend to know of these desires.

Tying into #8, we know that darkness / the astral can have an association with life and growth; as we see in E9′s bramble phases and the like. Could it be that Golbez views the two interchangably? That banishing the darkness means a quest to expunge (the endless) life from the 13th? And could he mean to not only invade the Source, but find some means by which to draw its light (the umbral) back into the 13th to end the endless life that has taken root there?

In Summary

Based on all of the above cutscenes, we can conclude the following;

Golbez has a secret desire beyond his war with The Source.

His dominant hand appears to not be his left hand, but his right.

He wields a sword that is almost identical to Cecil’s sword from Amano’s artwork.

His aether is described as “overwhelming”, seemingly prior to the Archfiends being allowed to feast upon Azdaja’s aether.

Golbez can use a spell that resembles Collective Unconcious, which is typically associated with Healers.

He’s interacted with Ascians before; furthermore, if he was once a memoriate, then he may have recieved his power directly from them.

He seems to not only start a war with the Source, but also seeks a means by which to banish the darkness from the 13th.

But what does this all mean? I believe that all of these are the key to the puzzle around Golbez’s identity, and from looking at all of them, there is one conclusion I come to in particular;

Golbez is Cecil

“Golbez” in Final Fantasy XIV is not Theodore, first son of Kluya and brother to someone named Cecil (as was the case in Final Fantasy IV). Rather, I believe that Golbez in Final Fantasy XIV is Cecil, and for one reason or another, he has adopted a seperate moniker.

“Golbez” here lacks quite a few traits of his namesake, whilst seemingly adopting a few subtle traits from whom I believe to be his secret identity. For one, Golbez is seen wielding Cecil’s sword (in the form of the Moonward Longsword). Furthermore, unlike his namesake, Golbez is right-handed, much like Cecil has been across his many appearances series-wide.

Furthermore, Golbez is seen casting a spell resembling Collective Unconcious; which is associated with healing magic. His namesake was not able to cast healing magic at all; and that in particular played a notable part in his backstory. Cecil, meanwhile, obtained the ability to cast White Magic in Final Fantasy IV after becoming a Paladin.

Speaking of which, Golbez at multiple points states his desire to “banish the darkness” or see the “sun rise again”. Whilst they do pertain to his goals, Golbez seemingly holds a strong disdain for the darkness in particular, hinting that he hides a holy nature, and that he perhaps is more associated with the Umbral / Light. “Golbez’s” secret desire is to return to his past as a heroic Warrior of Light; which is why Rubicante believe’s we may hold the key to drawing that desire out of him.

I believe that, come patch 6.4, we’ll either get a dramatic reveal of Golbez’s true name being Cecil, or perhaps a dramatic unmask that reveals a face resembling Final Fantasy IV’s main character beneath his helm.

Cecil, prior to the flood, may have been a heroic memoriate, much like Zero was. Or perhaps he fell to darkness; and it was his fall that tipped the 13th over the edge and triggered the flood of darkness. Furthermore, Cecil may have recieved the power of the memoriate directly from the Ascians themselves, much like how Cecil recieved the power of a Paladin from someone tied to the moon in the original Final Fantasy IV.

Either way, it’s hard to say for certain just what Cecil’s potential role may be; only that I think it’s possible he has a very large part to play.

However, whilst this theory does tie back to most of the collected evidence I’ve presented, there’s one point that I haven’t been able to tie to Golbez’s secret; that being the source of his seemingly “overwhelming” strength. But I think there may be another possible theory around Golbez’s identity that could answer that.

Or, Golbez is both Theodore and Cecil

I’m taking a mildly Doylist perspective here; a small but noticeable part of Patch 6.2′s plot emphasises the nature of the impacts of voidsent devouring the essence of other voidsent; with Ciriatto demonstrating how voidsent can take on the personality and memories of their pray after he devours Farfarello.

I believe this could be foreshadowing for an upcoming reveal. Goblez, rather than just being either Theodore or Cecil, could instead have been born from one devouring the soul of the other, resulting in a fusion of their abilities, memories, and personalities. Whilst “Golbez” seemingly has a lot of Cecil’s abilties (using healer magic, a 1-handed sword, and being right-handed), he also demonstrates many of the original Golbez’s mannerisms as well as borrows his appearance.

Be that as it may, Rubicante’s comments may not neccesarily be just about a secret desire of “Golbez”, but rather a hint that we could draw out Cecil’s more heroic personality from that of the harsher Theodore; with one side more hopeful of restoring light to the 13th, and the other resigned to invading the Source in search of salvation. In fact, end to Golbez’s “suffering” that he may seek is a final death to split the souls of Theodore and Cecil apart; perhaps one has been dealing with the guilt of devouring the soul of the other.

Thus, explaining why Scarmiglione found Golbez’s aether so “overwhelming”; Golbez is not just a single void-corrupted soul, but the fusion of a mighty Paladin and (armored-and-sword-wielding) Dark Mage.

Conclusion

I’ll lead my conclusion with a disclaimer; whilst I believe I’ve collected plenty of solid evidence, these theories are by no means guaranteed to be true; and I would not be surprised if Patch 6.4′s MSQ or even the upcoming Patch trailer presents a very different outcome to what I have put together.

However, with the evidence that I’ve gathered up to this point, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that “Golbez” in Final Fantasy XIV seemingly draws a notable amount of inspiration from Cecil instead of his namesake; and I believe that ties into the hinting given to us by Rubicante following the latter’s defeat.

In conclusion, I believe, based o nthe presneted evidence, that “Golbez” in FFXIV is actually either Cecil Harvey and not named Theodore at all, or perhaps is a fusion of the two brothers that owes inspiration to both of them.

#ffxiv msq #ffxiv spoilers #patch 6.4 #ffiv #plot theory

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