#i just think this fandom needs more cazador fuckers

[clownsecret]

okay but tenderly, gently, oh so sweetly, breaking cazador. he's crying, trying to pretend he's not crying, torn between trying to pretend that this isn't happening and pretending that it is but he's still in control here. licking the tears off his face as he weeps, despite the bucking of his hips. your hands on his body, your tongue on his flesh, the vampire lord stretched thin between the hooks of arousal and revulsion, and that's how he comes, with your teeth in his flesh and your name on his lips, begging you- to stop? for more? harder? faster? all of the above?

#nevvy speaks #nevvy plays bg3 #cazador szarr #bg3 cazador #nsft #this one's for the cazador fuckers i know we're out there #i just think this fandom needs more cazador fuckers #look i'm a sick bitch and i like freak shit what do you want from me #i wanna ruin that elf #i want to keep him chained up in a basement somewhere and fuck him for days and days #i want him to hate it and love it and crave it #i want him to be crying the entire time #astarion watches and wants to approve because fuck this guy #but no matter how he tries he just. can't get behind this #does he still occasionally watch through the keyhole and jerk off to it? yes

[nonopiimagines]

Fandom: Fallout: New Vegas: New California Pairing: Ben Kurtz x f!Star Player/f!Courier Warnings: n/a Word Count: 1747 Author Notes: I am most proud of this chapter. Go play New California, so good.

part iii.

Again, you felt so tired. Falling out of the sky, fighting alongside the NCR, being whisked away to Union City to celebrate, the subsequent retaliation of the raiders attacking the front gates.

You couldn't wait to sleep in a bed for once.

The rest of your companions headed to the hotel in Union City, just as eager for a break as you were. You stayed behind at the medical tent, Captain Jameson offered to bandage your wounds. As gruff as he had seemed mid-battle, he had lightened up significantly now that their gates were safe once again.

You lifted your arm as Jameson wound the clean bandage around a shallow knife wound from the battle earlier. “We could use more people like you, Y/N.”

A polite chuckle escaped your lips, followed by an equally expected smile. You didn't think about it, how you were socialized to always be nice and agreeable. It didn't matter who you were talking to, the Overseer, a caravan merchant, or someone who willingly represented a thoughtless government trying to recreate the sins of the past. You looked up at the older man, wondering if he ever thought he was on the right side.

Your eyes flicked to the front of the medical tent where Ben was watching your exchange. His face was set in a chronic frown, his dark eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he quietly turned and left the tent. You turned back to Jameson, a somber feeling coming over you.

---

Mission Palms was too good to be true. Large, immaculate homes were still intact and full of untouched supplies. The cazadores fended off most of the raiders and scavengers, but they couldn't keep you away.

You would stay the night there before heading south to Xiabula.

Something was pulling at your insides. You and your companions became closer over the last few weeks. Traveling the San Bernardino desert would do that to people. Digging through your bag, you found the last fresh carrots, potatoes, and pears from the vault. They would go bad soon but this also felt like a nice occasion to finish them. The last remaining children of the vault, enjoying the last vault meal they would have together.

You cooked the potatoes and carrots over a small fire you lit in the backyard and cut the pears into slices. Jamie and Kira were the first ones to dig in, then Eric (after making sure Jamie had enough), then you.

Ben was upstairs, gazing out the window. You remembered he said something about first watch. You felt like maybe it was an excuse. This new Ben was just as alone as the old Ben, though he didn't seem to realize he had the support of everyone, including you. Most of all, you. He could wax poetic about you leading them on this journey to find safety and maybe discover the truth about everyone's parents along the way, but he refused to let this relationship be reciprocated.

“It's getting cold.” You pushed a small plate of food onto the window sill, hoping the smell would waft up to Ben's nose. “Everyone said it was the best thing they've eaten in awhile.”

“I'm sure.” He gave it a brief look, seeming as if he were going to ignore it in favor of looking outside again. But after a moment, he used his hand to pop a carrot in his mouth.

You watched his jaw move up and down, his face not betraying his thoughts on the matter. You wondered if he missed the vault, if he missed the ignorance. He obviously thrived in this new environment, but he must remember the safety, the monotony, the easiness of the vault. Would he trade it for this life given what he knows now?

“Yeah, it's pretty good,” he admitted, though there was no surprise or praise in his voice. It was like he expected this outcome, he had no doubts your cooking was passable.

Feeling some amount of pride, you returned to the others. You talked for a time over a found bottle of whiskey, reminiscing about the vault, discussing what route to take tomorrow, wondering if the NCR would notice if your group never returned after restoring water to Union City. It was funny, none of you would've ever sat around a table drinking together even a month prior to this.

When it came time to turn in, Jamie offered to take first watch. After escaping the vault and the events that unfolded, she refused any alcohol offered. She kept saying, “when we win”, “when we're safe, really safe”, “maybe to celebrate the death of Elsdragon, that fucker.” You remember how delirious and tired and scared you were when you found out she could've warned you had she not been piss drunk. It didn't matter to you now, what's done was done. But you felt proud of her for seeing a problem and trying to fix it.

“I'd offer to share the queen bed with you, Y/N, but I'm a kicker.” Kira didn't look too sorry at her revelation, but she squeezed your shoulder anyway.

“And Jamie wouldn't like it if I slept next to someone else,” Eric chimed in, already laying his backpack down on the bottom bunk in the other room. “Besides, you deserve the big bed, Y/N.”

“Whatever, Eric,” you shook your head in defeat as you looked through the drawers of the dressers in the main bedroom. Most of the drawers were empty, but you found a baseball cap and mitt, a dirty tie, a ripped up dress. In one of the last drawers you found a real treasure. Giving a discrete glance over your shoulder to make sure everyone was occupied, you pulled out the sexy sleepwear. It looked almost untouched by the years and years of being stuck in a wooden tomb. You carefully folded it and stuffed in the bottom of your backpack just in time to see Ben walk up the stairs and into the room.

“Jamie's taking watch,” he informed, giving you a weird look for your position in the floor. He hesitated but must've decided he wasn't going to ask about it and turned to walk downstairs.

You scrambled up and tried to grab his arm, but he was too quick. You didn't want him to go and it bubbled up out of you, “Ben! Wait!”

He turned his head to look back toward you and you swore you saw a twinkle or some notion of something in his eye that emboldened you. “Where are you going?” Your voice was higher than normal, betraying what you thought was a calm demeanor.

“I'm going to rest my eyes on the couch downstairs.”

You looked at him as he said that, he had the same fatigue that the rest of you had. The bags under his eyes, the bloodshot whites, the slumped shoulders of someone who has been alert for far too long. You knew he didn't fully trust any of you, you knew he didn't ever sleep well, just so he could be ready if danger ever arose. You may be the shepherd but he was the sheepdog that protected the flock. But even he couldn't maintain this lifestyle for long.

So you appealed to the Ben you used to know.

“You took me to your room, but I never got to take you to mine.”

That intrigued him. He chuckled, a rare smile gracing his chapped lips. It was almost like no time had passed, nothing bad had happened, you were just continuing where you left off. But there was a bit more danger in his eyes, a darkness. At first you found it off-putting, but now you were beginning to understand this world and how everyone needed a bit of danger and darkness to survive. You could feel it seeping into you.

“Stay here. Sleep here.” You weren't going to beg him, but you wanted him to know that he was welcome.

He eventually nodded, coming back into the room, closing the door behind him.

--

You were wired. You tried not to think about the body behind you, the warmth it was giving off, how easy it would be to roll over and slide your arms around him. Sleep was supposed to come quickly and effortlessly after days like these. Your body was at the mercy of your mind and the stories it would weave about you and Ben.

You tried counting sheep or recalling the stack frames from the computer you hacked earlier today. You tried focusing on your breathing or the snores of Kira in the other room, but you found your ears trying to tune to Ben's breathing. Was he asleep? Was he suffering as you were? Did he ever intend to fall asleep? Is he faking it right now? Your ears strained, eventually finding the slow and steady breathing of the man next to you. At least he was finally resting.

You cautiously turned until you faced his naked back, seeing the rise and fall of his figure in the darkness. For some reason you expected him to be baby smooth like the rest of the children in the vault, but he had a patch of scars on his shoulder that dripped into his back. You couldn't tell if it was a weapon or perhaps a chemical burn. With a boldness you didn't expect, you carefully traced the edge of it with your fingers, trying to understand its existence just from the topography.

“You're playing with fire, Y/N.” A whisper, but it sounded so strong and clear. He hadn't been asleep at all.

But you didn't withdraw your hand. Instead you pressed your palm to it, feeling the tough rippled skin and the heat it emitted. You could feel him take a larger breath, followed by a slow, even exhale.

“We'll see if I get burned,” confidence oozed out of your response and you hoped he felt it too. You let your hand fall away from him and you rolled back over to face open air again, a small smile on your face.

#fallout fan fiction #fallout reader inserts #fallout: new vegas fan fiction #fallout: new california fan fiction #fallout: new california #ben kurtzxf!courier #nonopi new fics #nonopi take me home