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roscgcld · 3 years

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RYOMEN SUKUNA || my little flower

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: ryomen sukuna

pronouns: she/her

notes: historical!sukuna x reader, slightly sexual (no smexy time involved lol - maybe another day ;)), quite fluffy towards the end

also - I’ve been reading so many sukuna hcs and imagines of him when he’s in his prime or during the historical era - so like excuse me as I politely simp for the man that is ryomen sukuna >< thank you

references: https://www.japanese-wiki-corpus.org/literature/Ryomen-sukuna.html

Sukuna leans back into the futon with a tired sigh, two of his arms folded behind his head while the other two held you against him securely. His ruby red eyes glanced away from the ceiling to look down at the woman curled up in his embrace, sleeping peacefully against him whilst her own soft arms were wrapped around his muscular torso. He admired your peaceful features at first, but soon his eyes started to travel down your delicate neck and cleavage, your soft skin marked by dark splotches where he had marked you up for the world to see.

Just the sight of the hickeys and bite marks caused Sukuna to smirk once more, the feeling of pride traveling through him at the sight of the hickeys, both new and old, marring your skin. It was a sight he would never get bored of seeing, since it was a constant reminder to you that you were his and no one else’s.

Many would question just how did this happen - how did a simple human manage to ‘tame’ the infamous Sukuna - the King of Curses, who spreads chaos and bloodshed in his wake? How did you, a mere human woman who looked far too kind hearted and warm, ended up with such a fearsome man?

Well, how this came to be was actually a cute story.

You grew up in a small village in Hida province, where many cities treated Sukuna as their patron deity. He was what people would call quite a cold ruler - one who would not hesitate to bring terror and bloodshed down on a town that had angered him. But at the same time, he was quite the generous man as well. He protects the people of the Hida and Mino Provinces, and many towns had florish and grow under his careful guidance.

Your town was one of the may towns that worshipped the Cursed Spirit, preparing offerings on special celebrations and always paying your respects whenever you go up to the ichinomiya on the weekends with your parents. It was because of one of these special celebrations that drew Sukusa to you.

It was one of the many days where offerings were given to him by townspeople, in hopes that they will still continue to get some form of protection from the unknown. He was their patron deity, after all. Even though many times he does all the things he does for his own benefit, it was nice to know that there are some who are gullible enough to think he does it for them. But he it’s one to complain - many of the offerings are things he does not mind indulging in. The best crops from the harvest, women for his ever growing harem, beautifully crafted weapons and clothes are the few he can keep in mind

Many times, he does not care to go through the offerings himself - Uraume goes through all of them and then gives him a general overview of everything. However, as he was walking past one of the neat piles of offerings, a particular garment box caught his eye; causing him to pause before he unwraps it curiously.

Sitting inside the carefully wrapped package was a beautiful dark blue kinomo made of the finest silk, the fabric so smooth that it almost felt like water slipping through his fingers. Packed along with the kinomo was a beautifully crafted haori, a simple yet beautiful crane woven into the haori in white, the details done so carefully that when worn, the crane moves with the shifting of the fabric. The packet also came with a matching hakama made from the luxurious fabric, and a beautiful kaku obi made from navy blue, white and silver carefully weaved together into in a beautiful talent.

It was because of the level of craftsman ship that had Sukuna curious - who was the mastermind of something so beautiful?

He had went to the town where the garment was from and after some digging about, discovered about you. A daughter to a family of tailors, you were quite well known for your talents in embroidery and your mastery of the loom. Having gotten such talents, you crafted many beautiful pieces, and one of them was gifted to Sukuna himself recently.

When he first saw you, he was struck by your beauty; how you had such a warm smile no matter who you were referring to. How your movements were graceful yet swift, your needle and threat embroidering the most beautiful depections of animals and flowers without a single mistake. How your voice was so sweet and calming that he can physically feel the tension from his body starting to unwind ever so slightly. If he could, he’d love to listen to your voice forever - which was what he intended to do.

The first time you two met was actually in the dead of the night; you had stayed up later then usual, carefully embroidering a water lily onto a long fabric for a personal tapestry you wanted to hang in your room. A candle was burning by your work table, casting the engawa of your home in a soft but comforting glow; enough for you to do your work without straining too much. You were so fucsed on your work that you didn’t notice how the flames of your candle started to flicker in the glass holder; even though there was the air was still. Your eyes didn’t trail up from your tapestry even as a large figure quietly entered the hallway you were in; only pausing when you felt a huge presence looming over you.

Your bright eyes flickered upwards and met with four pairs of ruby red ones staring right back at you; all four of them shining in amusement. “You are quite oblivious, little one.” Sukuna hummed out with a soft grin, to which you just gave him a confused look as you tilted your head ever so slightly. “How did you get into my house?” You asked quietly, not even acknowledging how the man before you looked very different from what you’re used to; from the four muscular arms sprouting out from underneath the dark blue haori, the very same one that you had made for him. to the extra pair of eyes he sported on his face. Or how the top of his head was clearly brushing against the simple weed roofing of your family home.

“Is that really the first thing you’re going to ask, little one?”

From that day onwards, things definitely went a lot smoother then Sukuna could have imagined. At first the lack of reaction from you confused him, but he found it quite amusing nonetheless. Even after finding out that he was the same deity that you had heard stories of since you were in diapers, you acted no differently around him. You still talked and laughed with him like he was any other human. which for some reason made his heart feel warm and fuzzy. It makes him want to gather you up in his arms, protecting you from the horrors of the world.

The two of you will continue to meet up in the night like secret lovers; many nights he’d just lean against one of the pillars of your family home, with you perched in his lap as you work on different projects every night; talking about things that happen that day, or the funny stories that the townsfolk would share with you whenever they drop by to mend and purchase clothes, or when they dropped off freshly dyed fabrics. During a few of these nights Sukuna had suggested if you can help him mend a few of his kimonos, which you agreed to without hesitation. Some days you’d ever create new kimonos for him as well, which he would wear quite proudly.

Soon these innocent nights of talking and laughter, him watching you do your work under the moonlight, to having you gasping and crying out for him as he took you over and over again in his grand bedroom; watching quite gleefully as he corrupted your innocence, ruining you for any other man. Ever since the first night you two shared in his bed, he knew that there was no turning back - there was no one else for him but you.

And there was no way he was going to let some puny human even try to get in between the both of you.

With that he whisked you away from the somewhat mundane and boring life in your town, making you his entire world. He showered you with the finest gifts and opened the more human side of him to you; one that he thought he had lost the moment he had decided to go down the path he did. But you pulled these emotions out from him with ease, making him realise that he can chase all the power he want till the end of time and that will never satisfy him completely.

All he needed was you, and everything feels right in the world.

“I’ve lost you again, haven’t I?”

Sukuna’s eyes snapped towards the direction of your sleepy voice, watching how you gave him the most beautiful yet sleepy smile as you carefully shifted your body so it was pressed against his. He marveled how your naked bodies clicked together seamlessly, even with the clear size difference between the two of you. “You will always have my attention, flower.”

The sound of the simple nickname cause a small smile tug against the corner of your lips, remembering how that nickname came about. You have always love studying flowers, since you enjoyed embroidering different sorts of flora and fauna onto different tapestries that now adorned the walls of the home you two share. You had once told him about your love of flowers, and because of that, you had came home one day to the courtyard in your shared home turned into your private garden; with flowers from all across the country planted at every nook and cranny.

When you had asked Sukuna about it, he just shrugs and gave you an indulge smile - as if asking were you really shocked by his gift to you. When he realised just how deep your love for nature was, he had started to call you ‘his flower’, and the name has stuck since then. “What a sweet talker.”

A chuckle rumbled deep within his chest as one of his hands found purchase along your back, starting to massage what he was sure were your sore muscles; watching in satisfaction as you melted more into his chest. “Only for you.” He admitted quietly, to which you just gave him a loving smile as you rest your cheek against his chest once more; a soft finger started to trace along the tattoos on his skin. This action caused him to relax further into the futon, sighing softly in content. “Sukuna? Can we take a bath?”

“I’m lazy.” Sukuna stated with a soft groan as he glanced down at you once more, only to be met by the soft pout that you just know gets him to give in. This caused him to scowl as he cupped your face in one of his hands, gently squishing your cheeks between his fingers as he pushes himself up into a seated position. “You little minx.” He growls playfully whilst you just gave him a teasing smile, straddling his lap with your legs on either side of his whilst one of your hands wrapped around his wrist; causing him to loosen his grip on you whilst letting out a loud sigh. “How annoying.”

His arms suddenly wrapped around you before he got up from the comfort of the warm futon, causing you to giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Let’s go, flower.” He sighs dramatically before he walked you both to the bathroom, causing you to perk up before you lean over to press a loving kiss against his cheek; ignoring his soft eyeroll at your act of affection. As if he didn’t enjoy it whenever you do so. “I love you.”

“Of course you do.” He teases before he started to walk you two towards the bathroom, one of his hands skimming down to the small of your pack where a beautiful black tattoo rested against your soft skin; a tattoo that looks similar to the black lines that adorned his own skin. “You’re mine, after all.” He stated simply, causing you to roll your eyes at him playfully as he carefully sat you down on the wooden steps leading to the opening of the ofuro; watching as Sukuna started to prepare the bath for the both of you. “Wouldn’t it kill for you to just be a little nicer to me?”

Your teasing tone clearly didn’t win any points with him, who narrowed his eyes at you and before you know it you were suddenly pinned down against the wooden steps. A soft giggle left your lips at the narrowed eyes that stared back at you, causing Sukuna to scowl softly at your reaction. “Now you’re just asking for it, flower.” He growled before diving down to meet your lips in a passionate kiss; not being able to mask his smile at the sound of your soft laughter just as you wrapped your arms around him once more.

"My little flower..”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagine #ryomen sukuna imagines #sukuna x reader

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superhero--imagines · 3 years

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Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here!

A/N: not superhero themed. I just read midnight sun and had this idea and I don’t feel like making another blog so.... hope you like twilight lol

There will be a part two, and just a reminder, I’m still looking for beta readers so DM if you’re interested!

* It probably starts with you reading midnight sun, you remember reading the books/watching the movies when you were younger.

* Man, you really forgot how bad this book was. The writing itself is good, but the plot...

* It’s like everything revolves around Bella, everything is created for her.

* You almost feel bad for the other characters

* Well, whatever, you’ll finish the rest of the book tomorrow and never think about that awful franchise again.

* When you wake up you feel an ache in your head. But you didn’t drink last night, maybe you’re dehydrated

* You shift, noting the smooth silk of the covers. Now you’re alarmed.

* You don’t have silk sheets

* You see a mirror in the corner of the room, and rush over

* The face that looks back at you is different then yours

* It’s the same in some ways, but different all the same

* The curve of your nose is slightly off, your lips are thinner, eyes a little closer together.

* The memories begin to flood in, in this world you were on a graduation trip with your parents, you got an all inclusive package. Three days of sightseeing in Volterra.

* You got sick on the last day, when you were signed for a tour of the castle, your parents went without you

* That was the last you saw of them

* You dumbly followed, asking question where you shouldn’t. And ended up at the volturi’s door

* Aro had grasped your hand to see how much you knew, only too see nothing. Likewise Jane’s powers did not work as well

* They were astounded by this, it appears this was several years before Bella was introduced to the story

* And so, you became a prisoner of the tower

* Your soul must have been in this body for quite some time, but you’ve only remembered now, that’s the only explanation for why their powers didn’t work on you. Your consciousness is not of this world.

* There’s a short knock on your door

* “Are you decent?”

* You call back and Alec pops his head in.

* “Ready to go to the library?”

* He looks so kind. The boyish grin that stretched across his face as you shook your head.

* It was in direct contrast to the sadistic personality you had become accustomed to in the books

* “I need a few more minutes”

* You half expect him to lash out at you for being slow. By he only nods, closing the door and waiting outside for you to finish.

* He was you friend. You realized

* He IS your friend

* You think back as you turn on the faucet. He didn’t like you at first, being assigned to guard a human was insulting

* But he started to warm up to you once he heard you play the piano

* This body was quite used to the ivory keys. And so you charmed him as best you could, half for your survival, because the happier you kept him the less likely he was to kill you.

* And half because- you were so lonely, the Loneliness echoed in this body like an ache. Suddenly an orphan, in a continent where you knew no one. All you had was this boy.

* How long have you been here? You kept a talley at one point, but abandoned it after the thirtieth day. What was the point? You would either die or become one of them

* A shiver erupts through at the thought, in your past life you were a vegetarian, you didn’t relish in the idea of killing something alive and moving.

* You pull on a sweatshirt, ripping of the chanel tag. They bought you the nicest things money could buy, the most lavish food you could have.

* They did the same thing with the tourists they lured, keeping them happy and well fed, the same way the cows that became wagyu beef might be cared for. That way when it came time to slaughter, the meal was that much more delicious.

* You suspected this was similar, that should you be an unnecessary addition, you would make a meal suitable for their palette

* Alec basically talks your ear off the entire way to the Volturi library, mostly about literature

* “What are your thoughts on Anna Kerenina?”

* “That the patriarchy needs to be burned to the ground.”

* “That is.... valid”

* He even talks when you’re at the library, much to the annoyance of a few of the other patrons

* “Which book are you looking for now?”

* You stop mid motion on the ladder and turn to look at him. His ruby eyes glowing, he looks bloated. Like he’s fed too much.

* “Alec, why are we friends?”

* You really should keep your mouth shut. Alec was the only real ally you had, you shouldn’t say anything that might put him off

* And yet, it unnerved you, because the Alec in front of you was a very different character then the one you had come to see.

* He looks at you like you hung the moon,

* “Because you’re the most interesting human in the world”

* You burst out laughing, earning several glares.

* “I-I’m sorry Alec, but I’m not, I’m just the most interesting human you KNOW, there’s way more people who are more interesting than me.”

* You expect to see him offended, and he does, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes

* “I’m not so sure about that”

* The days creep by, reading books, eating snacks, it’s nice

* You learn, that Alec hasn’t talked to a human in a very long time. Outside of the screams he heard after devouring one.

* He hasn’t been outside the castle walls in many years, possibly a century.

* “What’s the best part of the human world?” He asked you once

* It’s the 90’s, so smartphones haven’t been invented yet.

* “One tree hill and friends”

* “Well you have a friend right here”

* “No friends the show”

* “The what?”

* And that’s how you got Alec hooked onto cable television

* Who knew the cure to vampire- sadism was a healthy dose of Jennifer Aniston fumbling about on screen

* “Is this what life is like?”

* You shrug, it was what college had been like for you in your past life.

* “It’s kinda what schools like, but i never got to be on my own”

* This body was only 18 after all.

* Alec doesn’t say anything, but his expression falters

* Alec’s only now starting to understand the life you will be denied once Aro decides when to turn you

* Jane joins later

* One day when you and Alec are lazing around the library when she appears, she says nothing, just sits down next to Alec and reads a book

* You’re sure they hear the uneven thumping of your heart as you turn back to your book. Her power doesn’t work on you, you remind yourself

* Not that she even needs it, she could snap you apart like a Kit Kat bar

* And if it came down to it, you’re sure Alec would let her, he might like you but his loyalty’s always remained with his sister

* “So... you watch human television together?” Her bright red eyes flickered from Alec to you.

* You nodded, never sure what exactly it was that would set Jane off

* You had seen enough in the books to know her moods were compatible at best.

* “I would...like to join” she awkwardly looking away, and you were sure if she could, she would be blushing.

* Honestly it’s kind of cute.

* “Sure, the more the merrier”

* And that’s how you basically adopted the sadist twins

* It’s a little harder to get Jane to open up, but once you make a comment about how Phoebe was the best character in friends, she starts to open up

* “Humans are cruel, even when they’re kind it’s only because they want something from you.”

* “Is that what you think about me? That I’m only nice to you because I want something?” she meets your eyes for a few minutes before turning away

* “I’m not sure”

* You understand very gradually why they’re so twisted

* They’d been treated terribly during their human life, in every kind act lingered a dark shadow, in even minor misunderstanding the image of a monster

* Their centuries in the Volturi didn’t help. Under Aro’s ruthless tutelage, and Caius’s sadistic tendencies, They had no one they could trust but each other.

* They were only surviving just as you were

* “Sometimes I wonder how much of my loyalty is real, and how much of it is Chelsea.” She whispers one day, so quietly you barley hear it

* You rest your hand on hers, it’s the only comfort you could think to offer

* When Jane grasps your hand in hers, she breaks every bone in your hand

* She doesn’t understand the pained screams or your mangled hand fit a second, and then she realizes what she did

* Alarmed she carries you halfway around the castle screeching for someone to help

* You pass out from the pain, when you come to you’re in your bed, a very cold hand holding your own

* “How are you feeling?” You don’t recognize this vampire, but you don’t really know anyone outside of Alec and Jane.

* You feel light headed, a warm feeling washing over you, you must be on some strong drugs

* “My body’s still grieving, but my mind is sharp.”

* It’s incoherent at best, but there’s truth to it, your body is still grieving for your parents and the life you’ve lost, but your otherworldly mind is ten steps ahead, cross referencing every action.

* The man offers a short chuckle

* “You really did a number on your hand. I’ve done what I can but...”

* You look down to your hand, half surprised by the bright yellow cast encasing it

* You had figured you would wake up to be a vampire, it just made sense, these were unfamiliar human aches to them after all and vampirism was a simple and effective cure

* They must want something from you, if they’re keeping you human

* You suspect it’s something along the lines of how they waited until Jane and Alec were burning at the stake to save them, so their power would be that much more potent

* Maybe they’re doing the opposite with you, trying to make you as happy as possible to see what effect it has on your ability

* It’s too bad you don’t have one

* “Thank you for your hard work.” You mumble, being human for a little bit longer is well worth the pain.

* “How did you break your hand?”

* “I held Janes’ hand”

* Your doctor let’s out a short laugh

* “That sounds about right”

* You smile, it does sound right, of course you would break your hand that way

* The conversation flows naturally after that, you talk about all sorts of things

* “You think vampires have souls?” He quirks an eyebrow

* “I’m of the opinion that a soul is something you create through hardship and struggle, being able to live longer means that you have more opportunities to have the experiences that result in a soul”

* “That’s an intriguing notion, I wish I had brought my son with me.”

* You’re about to ask about his son, when you’re interrupted by the door swimming open

* “I heard you were awake, are you alright?” Alec rushes in, his eyes frantic

* “Yeah these drugs are top notch” you press the button that releases the pain killers and let out a giggle

* “Is that alright? Humans are awfully sensitive.” Jane pipes up from behind Alec, you hadn’t noticed her in your haze.

* Your doctor chuckles

* “I’m aware,” he’s smiling but it’s strained

* “What’s wrong?” You ask, he was so calm until a second ago, he doesn’t answer you

* “I’ll give you three a moment.”

* You only register he’s gone when you hear the door close

* The twins rush over to you, Jane is kneeled by your side, while Alec hovers over you

* “I-I’m sorry I hurt you, I forgot-I didn’t remember.” You we’re sure Jane would be crying if she could

* “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it.” You raise your cast encased hand and give her a gentle pat on the head. “From now on, physical signs of affection will just be one sided.” You joke, which makes Jane grin

* “I’ll practice with some animals before I try touching you again”

* The three of you chat for a bit, they’re both surprised by your cast and ask several questions about its “primary function”

* “I didn’t know there was a doctor here” you murmur, feeling drowsy

* “Carlisle’s not with the Volturi, he’s from another coven in the new world.”

* Your drowsiness flies away in a second

* “That was Carlisle?”

* Jane looks somewhat confused but nods.

* A flutter of hope erupts in your chest, it’s so strong even your grief stricken body feels it

* You might have a chance. It’s slim, Carlisle has a family he loves and needs to protect. But still, they were strangers once too. No different than you.

* It’s a way out of here

* The next few days follow in a drugged haze, Alec and Jane visit every so often, and Carlisle engages you in occasional conversation while checking progress on your hand

* “Why are your eyes gold?” You know, but well, you need him to believe the lie

* “It’s a bit of a long story” he says with a wary smile.

* “I’m not going anywhere”

* He sighs, a genuine smile encompassing his face as he recounts the tale.

* Even though you’ve already heard it all before, it still makes you cry

* Even in the haze, you know something’s.... off

* There’s something about the way Alec won’t meet your eyes when he talks to you, and the uneasy weight that lingers in the air whenever someone else is in the room

* On the third day, it’s Aro who visits you, Alec and Carlisle in tow behind him.

* “Oh my, all that internal bleeding, how awful”

* Even you can feel the insincerity, but it’s the first you heard about internal bleeding

* So that explains it, the drugs and the aches all along your body, it wasn’t just your hand, you were dying

* “Don’t worry, we’ll save you” Aro’s smile is cruel “won’t we Alec?”

* Alec looks afraid, almost pained, but he nods

* Ah, so this was punishment for Alec too. Until that moment, when Jane broke your hand, Aro must have been ignorant to how close the three of you had gotten.

* You close your eyes, you knew this would happen eventually. There were only two ending to this story, and it seemed one had finally been picked

* You feel a pinch on your neck, right above your collar bone, no worse than a flue shot.

* You wait for the pain, the vivid screams you remember from the books and movies, but it never comes.

* Instead it’s just a warm numbness that spreads across your neck and left shoulder.

* “It doesn’t hurt” you murmur, you feel a cold hand rest against your forehead, Alex’s hand.

* It’s so gentle, he must have practiced on some animals first, you think.

* “No the pain comes later.”

* And so you drift into inky black unconsciousness, the last sleep of your human life in this world.

* You dream that you’re sitting at the bottom of a tree, a fig tree, like the one Sylvia Plath wrote about

* Each fig a different path, half of them have already fallen off, dark, as they rot at your feet

* “How do you do it?”

* You look to your side and find the person who’s face you see in the mirror, they’re hugging their knees to their chest, dark circles under their eyes

* “How do I do what?” You ask, they bite their lip

* “How can you be so strong when you’ve just lost everything?”

* You see their eyes brim with tears, and you look away, to the tree that looks over you both

* “I don’t know” It’s the truth, you have an unfair advantage in this world, because you know all the secrets each person carries, while yours remain shrouded in darkness. And yet... it’s not why you persevere

* “All I do know, is that I want to give them hell”

* Your counterpart grins at that, and to your surprise, you feel a smile stretch out across your face

* Yeah, it’s not about power, you just want raise some hell in this backwards misogynistic world.

* “I guess that’s the one you’re picking then huh?” Your counterpart points to a fig, it’s on the tallest branch of the tree, so far out of reach it almost seems unobtainable

* But you only nod

* “Yeah, I think that’s the way I’m going to go”

* They look at you and smile.

* “If you ever get the chance, I hope you punch that jerk Aro right in the face”

* You laugh.

* When you finally awake, you’re still laughing. A smile etched onto your face.

* Everyone’s there, all looking at you with concerned glances.

* Yeah, you’re going to have a lot of fun in this world.

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight headcanon #Volturi headcanon #Alec imagine #edward cullen imagine #carlisle cullen #superhero--imagines

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gallickingun · 4 years

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Bakugou with a s/o who enjoys being sassy and flirty, so is constantly compliment Bakugou about his body (his ass, though) or making him nervous on purpose

a/n: i’ve been wanting to write some spice, so here goes nothing. under the cut so you get to choose whether or not you read it lol! i took the ass comment and rAN WITH IT OKAY. you started this.

ps, didn’t realize this at first! but! this is my first kacchan smut so! be easy on me.

REQUEST A CHARACTER + PROMPT/AU/TROPE/SCENARIO AND GET A BLURB!

“Seriously, babe, it must be a side effect of your quirk, ‘cause you have a pretty sweet ass.”

“I swear to Christ.”

You smirk from over your glass, raising a brow as if to challenge him in this room full of people. You nudge his calf with the toe of your shoe underneath the table, everyone’s breath caught in their throats as they await what comes next.

All Bakugou can do is grunt, turn his head to the side so no one can see the pink tinge on his cheeks, and take a long drag of his beer.

Licking your lips, you sink back in your seat, satisfied with his flustered appearance. It’s not uncommon for you to get him all worked up, especially in public. Not many people are allowed to talk back to him, and especially not in a way that makes him embarrassed or emasculated. However, you’ve managed to work your magic and if anything, he finds your flirtatious comments endearing, and almost a challenge.

The alcohol is licking at your veins, desperate to overtake you. You give in just a little, dragging Bakugou out onto the dance floor in the middle of the room, uncaring to the way he bristles in response. Your smile softens him enough that he doesn’t resist, his own beer forgotten back at the table.

“You’re testing your luck,” he murmurs into your ear, breath hot as it washes over your neck.

You tuck your hands into his hair, tugging at his scalp to get him away from the sensitive skin of your throat, “I thought you liked it when I talked about your ass? I mean, really, how do you expect me to talk about anything else when you look like this?”

As if to emphasize your point, you trail one hand down the expanse of his body until your fingers are digging into the soft flesh currently hidden by a pair of his signature cargo pants.

“You can’t hide that ass no matter how hard you try,” you squeeze as if to emphasize your point.

Bakugou growls, yanking your hand away by the wrist, his hot fingers digging into your palms, “I will drag your ass out of here right now.”

“Oh?” you tilt your head, challenging him.

He snarls and slips his knuckles between yours, holding your hands in midair, far away from his backside. Bakugou sighs, “If you wanted me to dick you down, all you had to do was say so.”

“You know we both prefer it this way,” your voice is slurred just enough for you not to be able to focus on making it sultry. You squeeze his hands in your own and turn your body so your back is pressed along the entirety of his torso. You grind your ass against the dip of his thighs, feeling his muscles tense as you start to work your body into his.

Bakugou’s palms find purchase on your hips, the expanse of his hands nearly enough to cover your entire rib cage. His skin is hot, quirk begging to go off in the middle of this club. He doesn’t care that Kirishima will give him absolute hell about this later; all he can focus on is the way your ass curves perfectly against his waistline.

You hear him curse from behind you, but it only spurs you on, the filthy words you know you’ll hear later echoing like a playlist in the back of your mind. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, the sight of his intense ruby red stare sending a jolt straight to your core. You clench your legs together and he can sense your faltering, taking advantage of your momentary lapse of control to roll his hips forward.

The hard press of his cock to your ass cheek does little to deter the slick between your legs. You turn, facing him now, “If I knew talking about your ass would do this, I would’ve done it sooner.”

Bakugou rests his palms open on the curvature of your backside, and you barely have time to make another sound before the popping of his quirk leaves you stinging. You whimper, “Kacchan!”

“Let’s go.”

He doesn’t bother to do more than throw a big bill on the table, his fingers curled around the waistband of your shorts, keeping you anchored to him while simultaneously guiding you out the front door. He completely ignores the protests of your friends, flipping them a quick middle finger as he walks you out into the night air.

It’s a short walk back to your house, the silence between you doing nothing to quell the growing knots in your stomach, the impending pleasure the only thought on your mind. You swallow the growing lump in your throat, forcing your eyes to stay focused on the sidewalk in front of you instead of the shadow of his body. You weren’t lying when you were talking about his ass earlier - it doesn’t matter what he wears, there’s no way for him to hide his dense form.

You struggle with getting the key in the front lock, the heat of him standing behind you something menacing. Your hands are sweating as you turn the knob. He hardly gives you the seconds to step over the threshold before he’s got you pinned to the wall, kicking the door closed with his boot.

“Wanna talk about me like that?” he asks as he ravages the sensitive skin of your throat, hands already working at the button on your shorts. “C’mon, talk about me. Tell me what you like.”

Your voice is cut off in your throat, stuck there like a ball of tape. You swallow to try and get yourself to talk, but with the ferocious strokes of his fingers over your clothed core it’s hard to concentrate.

“Go on,” he’s patronizing now, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you with each flick of his fingertips. “I don’t hear you talking about my ass now.”

Bakugou traces his tongue down the column of your throat, pushing it flat once he touches your jugular with the muscle. You gasp, tossing your head back to the wall.

“Like my quirk now?” he asks.

You whine when his thumb traces your navel, the sting of a small, controlled explosion making your whole body tense. He’s been used to his quirk for some time now, and controlling it is like second nature.

“Ka’suki,” you whimper, palming over him.

You’re sure you look like a mess - your shorts around your ankles, knees bent at an odd angle to encourage him between your legs, eyes rolled back in your head and hands reaching for him desperately.

He nudges his nose over the swell of your chest, open mouthed kisses making way for goosebumps as the cool air of the air conditioner wash over your skin. You arch your back, simultaneously begging for more of his mouth and fingers at the same time.

“Please, ‘Suki,” you beg, rolling your hips against his knuckle. “Need you.”

“Where’s all that sass from earlier?”

Even though he’s patronizing you, he’s down on his knees unlacing your boots, helping them off your feet so he can pull your shorts completely off. He kisses the inside of your knee, nose nudging your thigh as he pushes your shoes off to the side so you won’t trip.

“C’mon,” his breath is hot on your thigh, curling around you like a vice, your reaction is nothing but to tense every muscle. You curl your hands in his hair and when he looks up at you with rubescent irises swallowed almost entirely by his pupils you find yourself whining again.

As soon as your head flies back against the wall, eyes screwing shut, he licks a stripe over the center of your underwear. You know he’s tasting the slick that’s gathered in copious amounts, enough to soak through the fabric. He hums over where he knows your clit is hiding, a growl rumbling in his chest at the way you fill every part of him even in the earliest stages.

His lips make a trail up your abdomen, nose pushing your shirt to the side so he can kiss your ribs one by one. Meanwhile, his thumb pushes your underwear to the side so his middle finger can curl up into your heat, effectively silencing your pathetic sounds as your eyes cross.

“Everyone thinks you’re this big, bad woman, huh?” His voice makes your skin vibrate mouth exploring your collarbones, “But I know better.”

He sucks a hickey into your shoulder as his finger pumps in and out of you mercilessly, coiling your stomach into a ball of fire as he works you towards a tremendous high. His thumb is on your clit, the rough pad of his finger giving you enough friction to see stars.

As he speaks next, his tongue is on your earlobe, effectively throwing you into an even bigger frenzy than you’re already caught up in.

“Right, little girl?”

You’re bobbing your head because you can’t speak, not without fear of drooling over the corners of your lips or whining like an animal. You swallow and buck your hips into him, but the use of his quirk on your skin makes you pause. His palm is holding you tightly to the wall, the tiniest pin-prick of explosions set off on your body.

“Such a sweet little mess for me,” he murmurs as he kisses over the expanse of your throat, gentle kisses in comparison to the rough hand buried between your legs.

As he nips over the thin skin, you squirm in his hold. When you start moving too much, he tames you with the retribution of his quirk, palms finding different sensitive parts of you to punish. His middle finger curls up into you, coaxing the wetness forward so he can coat his palm in it, using it to slicken your clit and keep you from chafing.

Your eyes are blown wide, pupils engulfing your irises, and it strikes something in him. The reality that you truly are a mess for him, for only him, sends a thrumming down his spine and he curls his toes in his boots at the thought.

You’re whining his name incoherently, one hand digging into the muscle of his shoulder. He knows he’s have little half-moon imprints on his skin tomorrow, but that won’t deter him from training shirtless. Let the others know how good he makes you feel, so much so that you have to hang onto him like an anchor.

“Can you undo my belt?” he asks, his voice softening just enough to pull you from your lull.

You nod over zealously, sucking in a sharp breath as you fumble at the buckle with your fingers. You whine when it takes a moment too long, the knowledge of his bulging cock hidden from you making you desperate.

“I’m not helping you,” Bakugou reminds you tersely from where he’s stood over you, one hand holding you at bay and the other pumping you towards a crescendo. That in combination with your imagination running wild makes you clench your thighs around his forearm. He pauses, pulling his hips away from you, “Uh uh.”

You whine, dropping your head to his shoulder, but it’s cut short when he takes a step forward, bringing his waist back so you can work at his belt and zipper again.

You can’t help yourself when the cinch of his pants is released with a pop once you’ve undone his button. Your hands find the curve of his ass and you try to tug him towards you, his tensed muscles a reminder of how strong he is, sending your brain into another round of hazy thoughts of him holding you down and taking you for all you’re worth.

“Good girl,” he coos from above you, stepping out of his boots and pants, but leaving his underwear in place. Even though it’s a simple pair of black briefs, the shadow of his erect cock makes a new wave of pleasure tremor through your body.

Bakugou chuckles, “Haven’t even seen my dick yet and you’re already slobbering?”

He yanks you up by your hair, the threat of your orgasm clenching around his opposite hand. His irises are hardened like little gems, glittering as he looks over your face, “How about we put that sweet little mouth to good use, huh?”

You’re pretty sure you’d do anything he asked of you in this moment, but he knows that and is careful not to ask too much. His hand goes gentle in your hair, curling in your tresses without tugging too harshly. There’s a softness in his gaze as he looks over your face, taking in each of your features carefully.

Your eyes are bulging out of their sockets, irises almost completely swallowed as he works you towards the high you’ve been craving since you started getting ready to go out tonight. The roughness of his calloused hands gives you a friction that you never knew you needed.

Bakugou pulls you closer, his mouth connecting with yours as he tugs his middle finger out only to pair it with his index finger as he enters you again. The stretch makes you keen, desperate for the feel of his cock wrapped up in your walls. You whine into his mouth and he smirks, keeping you close with his hand in your hair.

Just as you feel your body coiling tighter, begging to set off the fireworks, his hand leaves you cold, leaves you wanting. You beg him incoherently, to let you come, to let you release. Your eyes are crossed when you open your lids next, trying so desperately to focus on his face; the smirk, the glimmer in his eyes, the harsh lines and edges of his anatomy.

“Let’s see what you can do with that smart mouth of yours first,” he nips at your lower lip, guiding your hands to the waistline of his briefs, beckoning you to free him of the restricting fabric. “And then we’ll talk about what you deserve.”

—-

a/n: lol i’m mean. these are supposed to be blurbs after all!

taglist: @kamehamethot @simplybakugou @lady-bakuhoe @todorki-shoto @redhawtriot @burnedbyshoto @cookies-n-chaos @katsukisprincess @rat-suki @cutesuki--bakugou @k-atsukidayo @bnhatrashh @succulent-momma @voiceofreader @multifandom-fanfic @that-one-enthusiast @bitchtrynafck @cutest-celestial-princess @blue-peach14 @pastel-prynce @bokunokangae @shoutodoki @bakuoushoe @tenyaingenium @hoe-biscus @kingtamakimurder @myherofuckademia @myherowritings @lxvely-mha @myherorambles @ramen-rambles @bratwritings @samanthaa-leanne @orokayagi @queensynderella @tumblingintothefeelstrain @heroes-landing @suckersuki @yuueimagines @bnha-violetnote @your-local-bnha-writer @vnmwrites @plusultrawritings @aizawamirite @lovekatsukibakugo @ua-imagines @bnhasidebin @bnhawritten @sunbeamwrites

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leapyearkisses · 3 years

Note

For the director’s cut: Orbs Are Bad News, please? Part 2 (or both, if you’re willing!) It’s one of my favorites 💗

One of my favorites, too! Thanks for the ask! :D I'll do both parts, with Part 2 to follow this a bit later.

Director's cut comments in bold below the cut! MESS, m/m, holding a handkerchief, etc.

This story came from a prompt on a writing meme about a character losing the use of their hands while having to deal with snz. I can't remember at the moment if the prompt was D&D-flavored or if I just picked that setting myself because I was really into playing the game at the time (still am!). Also I'm incredibly sleep-deprived, so I hope these comments don't ramble overmuch.

"Okay, we don't know what we're dealing with here, so let's be careful." Gerrit pushed open the heavy wooden door and lifted his torch to illuminate the room inside. The firelight played over several tables covered in intriguing objects and glinted teasingly off of more than one hint of gold. Gerrit himself spotted a stolid wooden chest in the corner and his heart rate quickened.

When I was a kid, my mom gave me the Dragonlance books and I fell in love with them, although it was a long time before I was able to play D&D myself. I attribute my love of the very traditional fantasy realm to these books and my enduring love of sickly mages to Raistlin (Soulforge was like an EXPERIENCE for me). Gerrit has his origins in Tanis Half-Elven - he's a good guy, kind of a normal/default fighter build. "Jackpot," breathed Remembrance, the party's resident ne'er-do-well. She rubbed her hands together, sharp nails clicking. Gerrit was sure she was assigning price tags to the lot of it, except for whatever she hid in her bags for herself, of course. "I know a guy in the capitol who'll pay through the nose for that pervy little statue there." "That is a religious object," chastised Cordes with a haughty tsk. "It's used in rituals of worship for the goddess Fortuna." "Oh, I'm sure he'll be worshipping," cackled Remembrance, and she slipped past Gerrit into the vault. "Few hundred gold and he'll be rubbing out a grand ol' prayer." Her pointed tail waved with greedy delight. "Hey! The proper course of action would be to bring it back to a temple!" Cordes went after her, pushing Gerrit aside.

Remembrance and Cordes are here to be the beta couple and provide background color. Their development was based on a few factors: A) a D&D party should have ~4 people with different abilities (fighter, sorcerer, cleric, rogue), B) a priest and a devil is never not a fun/ny dynamic, C) I'm not into F snz but I feel bad that most of my OCs are not women, and D) given that Gerrit is a "default" archetype, there needed to be differing characters to contrast his personality with (or he would seem to have none). Also I like dirty jokes, so Remembrance can be my humorous id for this purpose lol The half-elf grumbled but wasn't surprised. "At least TRY not to touch anything cursed," he called. He'd been the one to organize this little band, but although he was the one who reported to their patron, he had precious little influence over what they did. They were happy to point to him when some upstart had a problem with the party, though. Ingrates. He turned to the last member of the group. "What about you, Llewellyn? I thought I saw some books on the far table." "Lead the way," replied the sorcerer, and his usually mellifluous voice sounded strained. Purple shadowed the hollows under his faintly luminous silver eyes, and he had his nose tucked into his handkerchief again. Gerrit hadn't spent much time around full elves, but he'd always believed they couldn't get sick, at least not like a human or dwarf. Llewellyn had been dragging since Saints' Day, though, and seemed to have come down with a flu. His skin, where visible under his fitted robes, was wan.

Fuck up that slender, haughty elf man is an endlessly running subroutine in my head. "Sure," said Gerrit, and he stepped into the room, holding the door out so that Llewellyn could join him. "You, uh, you don't look like you're feeling any better." "Oh," said the sorcerer, "I'm not. I ran out of tonics." He entered the vault and walked over to one of the tables, investigating a strangely shaped glass bowl. "But as we were already down here, I'm not sure what you want me to say. There's no inn at which I might rest my weary bones." "Cordes could make you an herbal remedy," Gerrit grumped. He went over to the chest he'd seen earlier and smashed the lock off with the pommel of his dagger. He didn't need any fancy lockpicking tools like Remembrance's. And hitting something felt good when his companions were all intent to be annoying, acerbic, or both. "I suppose," Llewellyn replied, sounding uncertain as his voice wavered. Gerrit tried to ignore the way his ears heated at that. That was the tone that overtook the elf when he was preparing to sneeze. It wasn't any of Gerrit's concern. His occasional roll in the hay (literal and figurative) with Llewellyn did not make it easier or more appropriate to acknowledge his odd attractions, especially since they were currently ransacking a dungeon with a priest and a psychopath. He focused his attention on searching the chest, and he was rewarded with a heavy coin purse, a stack of calfskin-bound journals, and a ruby the size of a robin's egg. He whistled.

Gerrit and Llewellyn are the dynamic opposite of Eliseo and Padgett. Gerrit is the less-privileged, more personable, "low class" character and Llewellyn is the high-born, fussier, sarcastic noble; however, in this story Gerrit is the voyeur character with the fetish and the POV window while Llewellyn is tortured for everyone's amusement. Narratively it's more fun and easier for me to describe the non-fetish-having character because I also like the power of the narrator to be that voyeuristic eye. Llewellyn gasped. "Hah- hahttsch-ow!"

I made myself laugh while writing this hahah "'Ow'?" Cordes appeared from behind a bookshelf, one arm wrapped tightly around a thick rug, the other reaching for his pack of salves. "What is it? Cut? Burn?" When Gerrit looked, their sorcerer was rubbing his nose with his left hand. "Bruise," Llewellyn said. He lifted his right hand, in which he held a blue crystal orb that was knotted inside a thin lattice of gold chain. "I got my hand caught." He'd apparently run the thing into his nose when trying to cover his sneeze. Llewellyn's thin face was already dusted pink from the embarrassment. Gerrit couldn't help but laugh. "Very graceful," he chuckled. "I will thank you for keeping it to yourself," Llewellyn replied, and that was elvish dialect for "fuck you." Gerrit laughed again.

Embarrassment is a huge part of my enjoyment of this kink because of the ensuing power dynamics. The victim is thrown into disequilibrium by something (snz) that is inherently seen as socially inappropriate, disgusting, or at least uncomfortable. Almost always their reaction is outsized to what it would probably be outside of a fet context (most people can sneeze in public without feeling shame - which is the typical mode, lol. It's a normal bodily function). However, then the other character, motivated by their BF's anxiety and potential humiliation is prompted to caretake and comfort them, "approve" of the "shameful" act, and deepen the intimacy of the couple. They can also enjoy the embarrassment and the act voyeuristically while feeling their own discomfort about watching, then deal with either having to divulge the kink or be found out by their partner later (because consent is the sexiest thing, really). But I love my characters and I'm not into hardcore stuff so much, so there are almost never any consequences of the "humiliation" - the characters do not get caught out, they do not get shamed by society, they do not actually lose face or have to explain their sexual preferences to anyone who should not know them.

Now you know way too much about my psychology but also the basic formula for any kink story I have written or will write in my entire life. Yay! Cordes had leaned over to see the orb better in the firelight. He was the only one among them whose vision was hindered by the dim light. "What kind of artifact is this?" he asked. "It doesn't resemble anything I've studied."

Lol humans don't have darkvision. "I'm not sure." Llewellyn held it up to the torch. The orb lit up like a lamp, but otherwise nothing happened. "Whatever this chain is, though, it's very prone to tangling." He tried to shake it off his wrist and failed. This was a task for both hands, and he set to freeing himself. And kept trying. And trying. Gerrit frowned. "What are you doing? Cordes, would you get that off of him?" "Sure." The priest reached out to help, but Llewellyn suddenly backed away out of reach. "Uh... I'm not trying to steal it, elf." "Oh, I would let you take it," Llewellyn said, scowling. "But I have a feeling we would be in for some trouble if you touch it now." He held up both hands. His palms were wrapped around the crystal and bound with the ball in that thin gold chain. "I am... I'm stuck."

---

"STUCK," hooted Remembrance again. She was crouched at the entrance to the dungeon - a root-cellar-like set of doors they'd found in a small bandit settlement - and hauling out a heavy pack stuffed with loot. In the daylight, she looked menacing and out of place, her horns, dusky maroon skin tone, and black eyes setting her apart from this land's primarily human residents. "And you even said not to touch any curses!"

Jump cuts are funny! I love this kind of thing, honestly. It's some of my favorite humor - that and dramatic irony, which is also often depicted in visual media with a funny jump cut. "I recall you said so as well," said Cordes, who looked exactly like a run-of-the-mill human resident except for the star-like scar on his left temple. He reached down and grabbed Gerrit's hand, steadying the half-elf as he climbed out of the hole. Llewellyn was hanging uncomfortably on Gerrit's back, arms looped around the other man's neck. They'd tried to find a more dignified way to get him out of the dungeon, but he couldn't manage the ladder well enough without the use of his hands. "The artifact didn't react to my detection spell," sniffed Llewellyn disdainfully, and Gerrit was quick to set him down before that sniffing could become another sneeze. He didn't want to blush in front of the others.

Blushing is very appealing to me, so everyone blushes all of the time. "There must be someone in Veigh who can help you," Gerrit said. "We'll just swing by on our way to the capitol." The city was three days out of their way, but they couldn't have Llewellyn stuck this way for the two week trip back to their patron. With his hands bound, he couldn't cast any spells that required him to gesture, and that was almost all of them. He'd effectively rendered himself completely useless in combat. Veigh had a chapter of the Mages Guild in residence, though, and if no one there could help, they might at least be able to send Llewellyn on ahead via a transportation spell.

Let's go on a short tangent about names. Usually I name my characters using Babynames.com or similar sites and I pick based on the look, sound, and meaning of the names. For this little group, things were slightly more haphazard. Llewellyn is a Welsh name meaning "leader." I just happen to like this name already, but it also has a visual beauty and difficulty to pronounce on sight that lent it well to an elf character without me having to look up specifically elven names. When I make elf characters in D&D, I tend to give them a nickname or alias that is easy to remember and pronounce so that the name isn't a hindrance while playing the game.

Gerrit's name was picked based on sound. It is similar to the Welsh name Gareth ("spear ruler"), which is on purpose, but it was altered to make it a bit more fantastical/removed. It's appropriate for a fighter in meaning but also suits his more familiar/pedestrian half-elven experience vs. that of a noble elf.

Cordes was given a short name because he is a no-nonsense human, but I chose it to resemble that of conquistador Hernan Cortes because of the "holy invasion" and "treasure hunter" associations. Remembrance is named using the PHB's suggestion that tieflings often pick "ideal" names for themselves, and she has a complicated past (like most tieflings). "I will hope there is." Llewellyn looked pale and worn, though his fine features still exuded the otherworldly beauty of the high elves. His hair was a silky black, although mostly covered by his hood, and the contrast made his silver eyes look even more curious. He fumbled for a minute at his waist before scowling heavily. "I can't get into any of my bags, of course..." "What do you need?" asked Gerrit. Remembrance had started off through the trees, humming, her bulging pack swaying with her sinuous movements. Gerrit really didn't want to let her get too far ahead, not least because she was scary good at concealing herself in the foliage and might slip the party completely. However, Cordes was with her, and Llewellyn couldn't exactly fend for himself right now. "My handkerchief..." The elf's voice had gone wavery again, and Gerrit watched as his nostrils flared. Fuck.

Oho! Here is the plot and the kink conceit. Gerrit hurriedly patted his pockets until he produced his own handkerchief, or what he bothered with when necessary. It was a large square of flannel, rough around the edges. It wasn't embroidered or monogrammed like Llewellyn's, but he figured by now the flannel was a hell of a lot cleaner, and it was soft for an irritated nose. "Here, take mine."

Characters' belongings are also a good way to contrast their situations and personalities. I don't consider handkerchiefs particularly vital to my enjoyment of this kink, but they are a useful visual and I like to describe things. Small details like this are how you can worldbuild without having to do too much extra research. Llewellyn held out his hands plus the orb for it, breath hitching, but no matter how Gerrit tried to drape the cloth, it kept slipping off of the artifact. He supposed he could try to tie it around the-

This is just so funny to me XD Llewellyn made a desperate sound and tipped his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. His breath was coming in soft pants now. And he was raising the orb reflexively. Gerrit couldn't let him whack himself in the face again, so he did the only other thing he could think of. With one hand he reached out and took Llewellyn by the shoulder. With the other, he lifted the handkerchief and pressed it over the elf's nose. His fingers settled firmly on either side of Llewellyn's nostrils, and none too soon. After another half-hitch, Llewellyn ducked forward again with a quiet but insistent sneeze. "Happtsch!

One of the most pleasing sneeze sounds, tbh. Gerrit was sure he was beet red. “Bless you,” he mumbled. Through the cloth, Llewelyn’s nose felt hot, and any gentle pressure resulted in a bit of a squish. “Let me just…” "Whh- wait-" Llewellyn leaned into the handkerchief. "I'm nh- I'm not done hhH-" His eyes slipped shut and he gasped again. Gerrit swallowed and tried to ignore the tenting of his breeches. "R-roger that." He could feel Llewellyn's nostrils twitching against his fingers. "Hh...Haah- Hapttschuh! Snrk... Aptschiu!" His body rocked, and he took a half-step forward. Gerrit could hear the thick sound of congestion in the elf's nose as he tried to stave off another sneeze.

The desperation, talking through the sneezing, and congestion are all vital parts of this scenario. Unavoidable embarrassment + disgust factor + need for caretaking/mitigation. "Blow your nose," he said. "It will help." Llewellyn hesitated, but in the end, he had to comply. There was nowhere for the mucus to go except out. He started to blow with a gurgle.

I used to be really against mess, but the taboo/disgust part of the brain turns off psychologically a LOT during arousal and now I really do not find snz interesting without it. Snz without mess isn't embarrassing enough or visually exciting. Gerrit moved the hand from his shoulder to start rubbing Llewellyn's back. The handkerchief and his fingers were rapidly growing damp, but he really didn't mind. "There you go." He held the handkerchief to Llewellyn's nose until the elf moved back on his own. His nose was red and tender looking, and his cheeks were flushed rosy. He didn't seem to want to meet Gerrit's eyes. Gerrit didn't mention it. He didn't really want to look at Llewellyn either right now. It had been a while since the elf had looked so very fuckable.

Potentially due to my propensity to write fanfic about established ships, all of my OCs apparently have a history or mutual attraction out of the gate. On one hand, it's difficult just mechanically to write a scenario about a romantic or sexual encounter without there being chemistry and an excuse for them to already want to rub bits (obviously), especially in short stories, but I also cannot stand the thin veneer of situational causality that underlies porn (to borrow from Cards Against Humanity). If I can't care about my characters' lives outside of the one random fetish scenario, I can't care enough to write about them at all. He put the handkerchief in an easily-accessible outside pocket of his vest. "Ready to go?" Llewellyn coughed lightly. "Yes." "Excellent." Gerrit gestured for Llewellyn to precede him, and the two of them headed out through the trees, following the sounds of Cordes negotiating the underbrush and swearing about it. --- Travel proved easy enough once they made it to the road. They were fortunate not to meet anyone else along the way. The party could handle a group of bandits without their sorcerer, but they had their treasure to worry about, and Remembrance always drew stares, and sometimes aggression, even from normal travelers. Gerrit thought her skills more than made up for the extra negative attention they drew. And anyway, Remembrance was crazy but she wasn't evil. She did better out on the road than in town, but that was probably true of all of them. Llewellyn kept up with her pace, but it was clearly a struggle. He was usually fairly quiet, but he didn't speak at all as they walked, focusing on breathing and not devolving into coughing or more sneezing. There were a few times when Gerrit hastily reached into his pocket, at the ready, but Llewellyn fought back the itch with admirable determination. He kept his nose from running by sniffling heavily, which sounded somewhere between awful and revolting. Cordes commented on it multiple times with disgust, but nothing could be done. Llewellyn held his tongue, and Gerrit was reluctant in this case to offer the handkerchief without being asked.

Cordes is here providing the societal reaction and voice of reason lol, but there still aren't any consequences or shaming from them. I just imagine how fricking uncomfortable it would be if people acknowledged this porn scenario happening in-world and so that is never part of the story development. They found a place to camp about half an hour outside the small village of Tewks. Remembrance cleared out some brush to make a flat area for the bedrolls and then promptly decided she'd rather sleep in a tree with everything she owned. She found a good, solid oak a few yards from the camp and ensconced herself in the crux of its branches. She had a good view of the road in either direction and volunteered to take the second watch in the middle of the night, which was her favorite time. Gerrit agreed to take the first watch as Cordes started to set up his tent. The priest refused to sleep on the ground and always took an extra fifteen minutes to erect a curious one-person canvas canopy. It wasn't even large enough to sit up inside, but whatever. The priest never asked anyone else to haul it along, so Gerrit wouldn't complain.

Remembrance and Cordes are thus handwaved away from the sexual center of the plot and they will neither see nor hear anything they aren't invited to. These arrangements left him and Llewellyn alone together on one side of the fire, and he supposed that was preferable during the orb situation anyway. Llewellyn couldn't handle his own bedroll, help with the fire, or unpack any of their supplies. Gerrit realized he would probably have to help the elf eat, too. And... Well, when he noticed Llewellyn fidgeting uncomfortably, Gerrit took him out into a thicker copse to see to his other needs. They didn't talk about it... Llewellyn could hardly undo his own buttons, though, and it wasn't the first time Gerrit had taken over.

I am very into watersports, so it creeps in, although I don't think there's a friendly community out there for that like there is for snz, so I haven't developed any kind of presence for it. It appeals to me for pretty much all of the same reasons as described above. Maybe someday I will start writing those kinds of stories on this account as well, but I don't know if they would find an audience, so maybe not. By the time the fire was hot enough to cook over, Llewellyn had tucked himself up to sit on a tree stump, exuding an aura of furious self-reproach. Cordes took some jerky into his tiny tent with him - for some reason. Gerrit made up two bowls of pottage and sat himself on the ground at the roots of the stump. He put one bowl on the ground for himself and then held up the other. "Hungry?" "Not particularly," Llewellyn replied, voice blunted with congestion. He coughed. "But you're going to make me eat something, aren't you." "I'd prefer you do it willingly." Gerrit tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl. "Come on. It's hot. You'll feel better." Llewellyn growled in a manner more suited to orcs than elves. "I feel like an invalid." Gerrit sighed. "Well, if it makes you feel better, we can pretend you lost your arms in an owlbear attack very tragically." He could feel Llewellyn's fiery glare on him and smiled a little. "Look, we've all done stupid things while adventuring. I'm sure you remember when I tripped and knocked myself out on that knight's shield during the tournament." "I remember," replied the elf, begrudgingly. "Besides, you're sick on top of the whole orb thing. Maybe your detection spell wasn't sensitive enough. Maybe the thing's not even cursed! Maybe it's supposed to do this, and we just don't know why." "I have a hard time believing that. What possible purpose could this serve?"

Porn! Gerrit shrugged. "Don't ask me. Dad says my mother was a druid, but I haven't got a magical bone in my body." He tilted his head. "We could always try smashing it?" Llewellyn's rejection was forceful. "Do you want to explode?!" Gerrit chuckled. "Not really." Llewellyn sighed. Gerrit held out a spoonful of pottage. Feeding both Llewellyn and himself was a bit difficult, but Gerrit did well enough when he could alternate. It would be better if he could use both hands equally like Cordes, but he couldn't, and so he didn't. He just thought about it wistfully as he worked. Llewellyn ended up eating most of his bowl, then went back to sitting quietly and sniffling. Gerrit finished the rest and put the utensils aside to deal with later. And... Even though Llewellyn hadn't asked, he drew out his handkerchief again.

More caretaking, more intimacy. Gerrit is a kind and loving person even though he's a fighter by trade. "Hey," he began, trying not to sound awkward. "You wanna blow your nose?" No one else was paying attention and Llewellyn didn't need to inhale any more of that crap. The elf gave him a shitty side-eye. "Come on," said Gerrit. "Don't be like this." He patted the ground in front of him encouragingly as if Llewellyn was a recalcitrant cat. "I'm fine," said Llewellyn, and then betrayed himself with a quick breath. "Hah--" "Come on," Gerrit repeated, "before you make a mess."

He is also pretty comfortable talking about a lot of things that people with the fetish have generally admitted difficulty acknowledging. This is because even though he's the one with the fetish in this, he is also the "Padgett" character and practical and not caught up in the anxiety prison. Llewellyn came down off the stump to sit in front of him, legs tucked underneath, and rested the orb on Gerrit's thigh to balance himself. His eyes were pinched with reluctance, but Gerrit could see that the elf's nostrils were already damp. "Hah- hh- hurry," Llewellyn gasped.

People should sit in each other's laps. It's good. Again, Gerrit reached out with the handkerchief, enfolding his companion's nose. He could feel Llewellyn's breath fluttering against his hand through the fabric and hear quite clearly how it kept catching on congestion. "Hah-hngk- Hahgkttscht!" Llewellyn ducked forward with the force of it and Gerrit steadied him with a hand on his hip. "Ngkttsch! Hnggktxch!!"

The sneezes now involve nasal consonants because of congestion. Sometimes people tend to have a certain way their sneezes always sound, and I try to maintain that, but these details are important to show a change in the severity of the cold (and evidence of sniffling for hours). Gerrit bit his lip sharply to keep from saying anything, but his body was singing with arousal. Llewellyn hiccupped a short gasp and Gerrit pulled the handkerchief away to present a clean corner. The current spot had become soaked and silvery. "Bless," he managed after a moment, and he carefully readjusted the cloth. "Are you going to sneeze again?"

Hiccupping is also sexy and cute. Also I spelled that wrong in the original, gdi... Llewellyn nodded, eyes teary with the effort of the first bunch. Gerrit wasn't surprised; the elf had been holding back since they left the dungeon. He couldn't imagine it had been comfortable, but Llewellyn had his pride. He never would let Gerrit give him love bites either. Annnd Gerrit was going to have to stop thinking about that. "Haptsch!" Easier said than done. Really. But Llewellyn's comfort came first.

Voyeur with a heart of gold. "Hahkptsch!" The sorcerer groaned softly. "Hah- hh- Hgnaptscxhx!" Gerrit did his best to assist Llewellyn through the fit. He kept the handkerchief secure, moving it when necessary to keep it dry enough. He steadied the elf when the sneezes bent his body or when he felt faint from lack of breath. He even massaged Llewellyn's nose for him when he was trying to blow it and the congestion was stubbornly refusing to move. By the time he felt finished enough to lean back, Llewellyn was flushed and light-headed, swaying where he sat. Gerrit was sweating and needed a towel. "........Thanks," murmured Llewellyn, eventually.

Sometimes kink authors tend to just write out like twenty sneezes in a row and I hate that, honestly. (No shade - I don't even have an example in mind because I don't read a lot of stories anymore and everyone has their preferences.) I just think that the kink should support the storyline and not the other way around. The story should be enjoyable and sexy but have a narrative structure and coherent rising and falling action. Even if a fit is a sexy scenario (it is), trying to make your eyeballs power through a repetitive series of nonsense syllables is counterproductive and takes the reader out of the story and into the realm of annoyance, which disrupts arousal as well. "Yeah," said Gerrit. "Sure." He swallowed. "Let's wash up." He helped Llewellyn to his feet and they went a little way to a creek (generously; it was little more than a ditch through the woods). Gerrit gently washed Llewellyn's face, careful of his tender eyes and nose, and sent him back to camp to lay down for the night. He lingered at the water's edge to wash the handkerchief and, well, to take other matters in hand.

If ya know what I mean. Llewellyn was completely out when he returned, and Gerrit was grateful. He smoothed the elf's bangs back and then settled beside the fire to take watch. The woods in the dark were full of the sounds of insects and small animals moving in the undergrowth. And Llewellyn snoring and sniffling in his sleep. Safe sounds. Gerrit rested his chin on his hand and looked toward the road. Damn orb. It was going to be a long way to Veigh.

And this was getting long, so this is where I cut it to make part 2, which I will also commentate in a bit (hopefully after a nap =___=). Thanks!

#lyk writes #snz #llewellyn mistwalker #gerrit truestride #gerwellyn #director's cut commentary exercise

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zabrak-show · 4 years

Text

The Magnificent Twin Suns

A/N: Hello, omg this is my ObiMaul Magnificent Seven Crossover Fic. what have I done?!! Please do not hate me for this. I actually worked hard on it and honestly wanted to do more character work with all of the “seven” but ultimately, only ever wanted this to be a short one shot.

This is an AU of AU’s which if you know the history of Magnificent Seven is fitting. (it’s a remake of a remake of a remake) Which is also fitting of Star Wars being that it is essentially a remake of western films that were remakes of samurai films LOL anyway, expect much OOC weirdness and just whatever I felt like, OK! There is an OC, but she is mostly just filler as are the rest of the characters beyond Kenobi and Maul.

This was heavily inspired by one of my favorite artists on here @savagesleftarm Cowboy Art of ObiMaul this art broke my brain and the aforementioned fic ensued. I hope you enjoy it and if not, go easy on me cowpokes. I am but a simple fic writer tryin to get by.

Also, because I obsessed over this for a week, here’s a playlist I made while I wrote this 😆 I made it to play on shuffle, but I’m not the boss of you, play it how you like if you like!

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Death (no major character death, but still), Curse Words, Alcohol consumption, Cigarette smoking, Angst, specifically ObiMaul Angst

Word Count: 5.7K

gif from tombstone another western gem

The desert suns blazed unrelenting into the face of a crimson zabrak with intricate obsidian tattoos accenting his hardened and chiseled features including a crown of small horns. He brought his Colt Paterson revolver over his shoulder, still hot from the kill shot performed. Another bounty successfully tracked down and bagged. A half smoked cigarette hung from the zabrak’s lips, his face scowled from the smoke and the sun. Gunpowder, cigarette smoke, and death permeated the hot air. The zabrak took one last drag from his cigarette before throwing it down into the sand next to the dead body, the butt still slowly burning until finally it ran out of tobacco and paper to ignite, puffing out into a dusty pile of ash.

The zabrak holstered his gun and roughly wrapped the dead body in a canvas tarp and strapped it to the back of his pale grey horse, Scimitar. He mounted the horse and took off down the dusty path, hoping to get to Mos Eisley before sundown. The zabrak rode fast atop Scimitar, his black leather boots digging into the horse’s sides. His black jeans and black vest collected dust and sand that flew up from the horse’s galloping.

They rode for hours, until finally the zabrak pulled back on the reigns signaling Scimitar to slow down as they entered the Mos Eisley city limits. The city was still growing, with several buildings under construction around the edge of town. The main street area was bustling with different galactic species. Some native jawas and tusken raiders milled about amongst, rodians, weequays, twi’leks, and humans. Many turned to stare at the strange zabrak. His bright golden eyes staring straight ahead, not giving any mind to the civilians around him. He rode Scimitar up to a red brick building, dismounted and tied her to the hitching rail at the front of the building.

He slung the body over his left shoulder and entered the brick building with a calm authority to his every movement, a slight limp to his gait. He dropped the body at the feet of a weequay, leather brown skin matching his long leather overcoat. The weequay’s off-white shirt unbuttoned to show much of his chest; dark dirty jeans and mud covered boots, told their own story of hard work and life on Tatooine.

“Maul!” the Weequay exclaimed with jovial comraderiere, reaching out to grab the zabrak’s shoulder.

“Hondo.” Maul responded flatly.

“Eh, Money for blood’s a peculiar business wouldn’t you say?” Hondo pressed as he peeked inside the tarp and quickly obtained the credits for Maul’s bounty. Maul grunted in response as he stashed the credits inside his vest, and made his way for the door.

Nighttime was approaching, the sky a painted medley of pinks, oranges and yellows as the suns dipped down past the horizon. Maul headed for the Mos Eisley saloon for a well needed drink and to look for his next job. He stepped into the saloon doors and headed straight for the bar.

The saloon was lively and most paid no mind to the ruby red zabrak as he sauntered into the establishment. A red Nikto sat at the piano playing a twangy melody, while animated voices and glasses clanging together filled up the saloon’s auditive atmosphere. The smell of old beer, must, and disappointment assaulted the zabrak’s nasal cavities.

“Whiskey. Neat.” Maul ordered the blue Twi’lek at the bar. She eyed Maul suspiciously and slowly made his drink and slid it down the bar to him. He took out a few credits and dropped them on the bar as he walked away to find a place to sit.

Maul limped to the back of the bar to sit in a small table by himself in the shadows. A light skinned bearded man with a brown cowboy hat, brown poncho, tan shirt and pants burst through the saloon doors, drawing the attention of most people in the saloon with his dramatic entrance. He walked up to a rodian at the bar and they had a quiet conversation, the rodian clearly uncomfortable by the man’s presence. In a flash, the rodian’s head slid off his body as a beam of blue light cut through his flesh. The man was wielding a lightsaber and the show stopping stunt had all but silenced the bar as the patrons all looked on in horror and shock.

“Jedi scum.” Maul growled quietly to himself.

The man having everyone’s attention, now spoke to the crowd.

“Greetings. I am Kenobi, a warrant officer in 3 systems and a licensed Jedi Peace Officer in 10. This rodian was a wanted criminal,” he held up a worn piece of paper with the rodian’s likeness on it. Maul squinted his bloodshot amber eyes at the man and slowly recognized who he said he was. It had been almost ten years and he almost didn’t recognize his old nemesis.

“Jedi. I have been waiting for you,” Maul spoke in a deep commanding voice as he stood and walked over to the man.

“I’m not sure I’ve made your acquaintance.” Kenobi said, barely acknowledging the zabrak.

“I am surprised you could have forgotten me so easily after I killed your boss and you left me for dead on Naboo.” Maul spat out at him.

“It is you.” Kenobi replied in astonishment now looking directly at Maul.

“You may have forgotten me, but I will NEVER forget you.” Maul bared his teeth practically growling at Kenobi, before he stopped in his tracks, hand hovering over his holstered gun. Kenobi stared into Maul’s bloodshot amber eyes with his own ice blue eyes studying the movements of the zabrak.

“I have defeated you before and I can defeat you again!” Kenobi declared, his hand on his lightsaber hilt. Kenobi ignited the lightsaber as Maul drew his gun and took several shots, Kenobi blocking each one with fast as lightning reflexes. Several patrons yelled in terror at the commotion, but the dueling men paid no mind.

“I almost didn’t recognize you, but you’re still half the man in my eyes.” Kenobi leered at the zabrak. At once, Maul jumped towards Kenobi, firing his revolver until he was out of bullets. The Jedi grabbed the zabrak mid air and threw him to the ground, straddled his chest and held his lightsaber to his neck. Maul hissed and Kenobi put his full weight on the zabrak and turned his lightsaber off. To everyone’s shock and amazement, especially Maul’s, Kenobi began laughing hysterically.

“Can I buy you a drink, old friend?” Kenobi stood up over Maul, extending his hand to help the zabrak up.

“You realize I still hate you with every fiber of my being.” Maul snarled at Kenobi as he rose back to his feet.

“Ah yes, ever dramatic as always.” Kenobi replied, putting his hand on Maul’s back and leading him to the bar. Maul growled quietly and drank with the Jedi despite his distaste for the devilishly handsome man.

“Excuse me are you bounty hunters?” a strong feminine voice rang out from behind them. Both men turned to look at the short slender human woman speaking to them. Her brown hair was pulled back into a braided bun and she wore a plain light blue dress that hugged her torso in a worn-in way.

“No, we are not for hire. Move along.” Kenobi brushed off the woman.

“I have money. It’s everything I have.” the woman pleaded her brown eyes searching both men for some acknowledgement.

“It’s not enough.” Maul grumbled and turned back to his drink.

“I’m willing to give you everything I have. Don’t you want to at least hear what the job is?” the woman rang out attempting to appeal to the two rugged men.

“There’s a village. Not far from here. Peaceful folk. Moisture farmers, just trying to get by. The Hutts are trying to take our land out from under us. Killing innocent men, women, and children in cold blood in the streets.” she stated firmly, throwing a satchel into Kenobi’s hands. He opened it and peeked inside at the credits.

“Miss, you don’t need a bounty hunter. You need an army.” Kenobi responded as he threw the bag back into the woman’s arms.

“Missus. My husband was shot dead in the street by Jabba along with several other innocent civilians.”

“So it is revenge you seek?” Maul inquired piqued with interest now.

“I seek righteousness as should we all, but I’ll take revenge.” she responded cool and stern.

“The Hutts you say?” Kenobi perked up a bit, “What’s your name Missus?”

“I’m Jade Abernathy.”

“How many folks are still at your village?” Kenobi inquired, leaning back onto the bar with his arms crossed.

“60 or so. These folks are farmers. Not fighters.” she clarified.

“And how long until Jabba returns to your village?” Maul questioned.

“He said he’d be back in 3 weeks 8 days ago.” Jade stared at them both as she spoke. Maul let out a chuckle and downed a shot of whiskey.

“Well we best get started then.” Kenobi declared. Maul almost spit out his drink at this declaration. Kenobi slapped his back,

“Relax, old friend. We will recruit some help along the way.”

“I am NOT your friend.” Maul shot back with a glare.

The next day the 3 of them rode towards a settlement to which Kenobi was privy, where an old friend would be camped out. They came up to an old sand hut and each dismounted their horses to have a look around. The smell inside the hut was putrefying and large flii buzzed around, fat from whatever death they’d been feeding on. Jade walked into a room where a decomposing body of a tusken raider slumped on the floor. She covered her face and ran out of the room gagging. A figure of a man appeared from the darkness of the hut.

“He was dead before I got here.” a deep booming voice reached out from the shadows.

“Mace is that you?” Kenobi questioned walking further into the room to try and see.

“Obi Wan?” The strange man stepped forward into the dim light. He was a tall, bald, dark skinned man wearing a tan shirt, brown vest and brown pants. The two men embraced without thought of the decomposing body next to them.

“How did you find me?” Mace questioned Kenobi.

“I acquired a tip at Mos Eisley.” the jubilant Kenobi responded. Maul stood back and rolled his eyes at the reunion.

“Jedi scum,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What’s the job?” Mace stepped back, taking a serious tone.

“Going against the Hutts to help out a farming community. Paying us everything they got.” Kenobi replied matter-of-factly.

“What are our odds?”

“It’s suicide.”

The team of three plus Jade made their way now to recruit their next team member. Another friend of Kenobi’s, who went by the name of Anakin. They entered into a small town, where a congregation of people surrounded a young togruta woman giving a show throwing knives at burlap sack dummies. She had orange skin with white markings on her face, blue and white Lekku instead of hair, and wore a maroon vest and pants. A drunk kel dor man stepped out into the area where the togruta woman was performing.

“Yes, you can hit a dummy. Where’s the real show? Hit something live.” he slurred and stumbled towards the togruta.

“Keep talking and I’ll show everyone how easy it is to take someone down.” she threatened.

“oooh I’m sure they’d all love to see it!” he declared raising his arms in a mocking gesture turning his back to her to try and gain favor from the crowd. The togruta reached for the knives stowed at her back and threw them with clean precision into the kel dor’s back immediately taking him down into a pathetic slump. The crowd gasped and cheered.

A man dressed in all black, a scar running down his fair skinned face over one eye, walked around to the crowd with a hat extended taking payment for the show.

“Anakin?” Kenobi asked as the black clad man made his way around to them.

“KENOBI?!!” the man’s blue eyes lit up and reached out to hug Kenobi, nearly spilling his hat of money, “What are you doing here? How’d you find me?”

“Well we are recruiting for a job. Who is your companion? I’m surprised to see you relinquish yourself to the sidelines like this.” Kenobi asked with a concerned look on his face.

“Oh that’s Snips, er Ahsoka. She saved my life. And I help her navigate the wild terrain of Tatooine. She goes anywhere I go.” Anakin explained.

“Well we’d be happy to have you both. We’ll need both of your skills for this job.” Kenobi smiled.

They camped out that night outside the small town where they found Anakin and Ahsoka. The night air was crisp and cool, insects buzzing while Mace built a small campfire. Maul laid out his makeshift version of a bed and propped himself up to attempt resting. Kenobi walked over to his spot and sat down next to Maul.

“I already question why I have agreed to work with the likes of you. Do not try to make it worse with meaningless banter.” Maul scoffed barely looking over at Kenobi.

“I mean no harm. I only wish to bury our past and attempt to start over.” Kenobi spoke softly and sincerely.

“Start over?” Maul ridiculed, “are you going to grow my legs back? Am I to bring Qui Gon back from the dead? We have a past Kenobi. We will never have a future. And I mean never.”

“Such a Sith.” Obi Wan laughed, “it doesn’t need to be like this. We both did what we needed to survive at the time. The war is over. Let it go.” he started to stand as he spoke and walked away from Maul, who growled at the Jedi.

“You are such a pain in my ass.” Kenobi finished while shaking his head and walking to the other side of the campfire. Maul’s eyebrow ridges furrowed in anger as he stared at the dancing firelight in front of him. His body filled with rage and wanted nothing more than to kill the despicable Jedi, consequences be damned. He could not bring himself to do it, frozen to his small patch of desert. He hated the Jedi. He hated Kenobi more than anything. Yet, he respected the Jedi’s skills and combat techniques. The handsome and charming Jedi somehow infiltrated his way into Maul’s impermeable heart and that was what really drove him mad.

Jade sat to the side of both of them and watched the whole thing go down curiously. She gnawed on a dried piece of meat, before finally lying down on the hard rocky terrain to attempt getting some rest. The fire crackled and the soft hum of voices around the fire slowly died down as everyone decided to get some rest. Obi Wan took the first watch of the night, sitting atop a ledge and looking out into the darkness.

They packed up their belongings at first light to set out to find another old acquaintance of Obi Wan’s. Jade rode next to Maul and asked him about the Sith.

“Why don’t the Sith like Jedis? It seems like ya’ll are pretty similar.” she asked innocently enough, but it made Maul gnash his teeth together before responding.

“We are nothing alike. Jedi are fools and liars. They brainwash everyone into admiring them, and for what? For the power they claim they do not desire.” He scowled and spat the words out in his deep theatrical voice. Anakin over hearing this, let out a big laugh and Maul whipped his head around to glare at the smiling young man.

“I would be careful to make too much noise, Anakin.” Maul shot back at him and looked over to Jade, “This man took out an entire tribe of Tusken Raiders.”

“They were enslaving good folks, I did what I had to do to bring justice.” Anakin shouted back.

“There were innocent women and children that died at your hand. Was that for the good of everyone? Justice is merely the construct of the current power base.” Maul’s response was cut short by Obi Wan stopping the team with a fist up in the air.

“We are being followed.” Kenobi voiced quietly while everyone reached for their weapons. They were on a path surrounded by tall rock ridges on either side of them, everyone’s eyes darting around to watch for who was following them. A slender bald pale woman walked out beyond an outcropping guiding her horse on the rocky terrain. She carried a bow and arrow, wore tattered black and red form fitting clothes and had tattoos around her eyes and mouth.

“Quite a mix of strays I see.” She declared as she sauntered over, all eyes on her.

“Ventress,” Kenobi almost sighed out the words, “What are you doing out here?”

“I should ask the lot of you the same thing.” she suggested as she looked around at everyone.

“We are on a mission to drive the Hutts out of a peaceful farming community. Care to join?” Obi Wan asked the pale woman.

“Like you even had to ask.” she smirked.

“When did you become one of the good guys?” Kenobi questioned with a look of surprise on his face.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Kenobi. I’ll take any chance I can get at tormenting you.” she winked and mounted her horse now next to Kenobi. He rolled his eyes and they rode on down the dusty path.

They arrived at an old hut tucked away off the trail and Kenobi dismounted his horse to walk up to the two Jawas milling about outside the front door. They had a short conversation in Jawaese.

“You killed the old man who lived here?!” Kenobi asked them in astonishment. Suddenly, a green lightsaber flew through the air at the 2 jawas, cutting them down where they stood and then flying back into the hand of a short wrinkled green creature wearing torn furs and leathers.

“Left me for dead, those two Jawas did.” The old creature announced as he slowly walked towards Kenobi, dried blood covering the side of his face.

“Yoda, we are assembling a crew to take down the Hutts.” Kenobi cut to the chase and explained the mission to the small wizened creature.

Once Yoda was on board, they planned their initial attack into the town. Jabba was not currently there, but he had several of his cronies watching over the town so they’d need to carefully infiltrate at first. Then it would be a matter of days to train everyone there to fight back once Jabba did show up. The dangerous appeal of the mission was now starting to set into feelings of daunt and apprehension for everyone.

The team rode toward the town with everyone’s mind full of what their mission was as soon as they got there. It was late afternoon and the suns blazed onto the team of misfits. The air was arid and smelled of horses and nervous body odor. Kenobi and Maul rode side by side leading the group. Much to Maul’s bedevilment, as his body and face tensed up at the Jedi’s presence next to him.

“Kenobi.” Maul acknowledged him finally through grit teeth.

“Maul, don’t you think this is childish to still hold onto such a grudge?” Kenobi scrutinized the zabrak.

“I am unlike you foolish Jedi, sequestering your emotions. I was cast aside, I was forgotten, but I survived. Fueled by my singular hatred for you. ” Maul snarled at the Jedi.

“And yet here you are tagging along with us; some former and current Jedis and me, the bane of your existence.” Kenobi pointed out.

“I have my reasons.” he quietly retorted back and they rode on in silence for some time.

As they neared the town, the team split up and everyone besides Obi Wan took the back way into town led by Jade who knew the shortcuts and where Jabba’s infiltrators would not be monitoring. Obi Wan rode his horse directly into the town, it felt like a ghost town. Windows shuttered and barely anyone out and about. Finally, he reached the main drag and several armed beings; humans, twi’leks, and many gamorreans stood in a line on the street. The tall blue twi’lek spoke first,

“We don’t allow weapons in town. Check them in and we’ll return them after you leave.” he stretched his hand out, his long nails glinting in the sunlight.

“Of course. I wonder why it is such fine folks as you should be armed to the teeth when no one else is?” he asked as he reached for his lightsaber to hand over.

“We are this town’s protection against any outside force that wishes to bring harm to these townspeople.” the twi’lek responded looking agitated and spitting out a wad of tobacco as he finished. Obi Wan saw Ventress signal to him from on top of the building behind the men without letting them see his acknowledgement.

“That is not the story I am told. And not the story my friends believe.” Kenobi looked past the line of armed beings and they all slowly turned around to see they were surrounded. Kenobi ignited his lightsaber and cut down the twi’lek while Ventress shot several more from the rooftop with her bow and arrow. More Gamorrean guards rushed out into the street at hearing the commotion. Mace and Anakin shot several down narrowly missing getting shot themselves by a couple guards coming in from the sides. Ahsoka threw her knives at the guards in an instant hitting them in the throats and killing them on impact. Yoda and Maul stood on opposite sides of the street taking down the rest of the guards with calculated precision. As fast as it started, it was over, the warm air overcome with gunpowder, blood, and smoke.

Jade rode in on her horse, yelling for the townsfolk to come out of hiding.

“Everyone! Come out! They are here to help us!” her voice rang out as she rode her galloping horse through town. The townsfolk cautiously came out of hiding, looking around like scurriers expecting to see a rancor or other predator. Kenobi started to walk towards the congregation of people forming when he sensed a hidden Gamorrean under the wooden stairs to the bank building. He reached down and forcefully grabbed the Gamorrean by the arm to drag him out of hiding.

“You work for Jabba?” Kenobi shook the gamorrean in his hands and he squealed in response.

“You tell your boss if he wants this town, come see me. Tell him Kenobi sent you.” He instructed the Gamorrean who grunted in response and ran off with a squeal.

“These folks have assembled to help our town.” Jade’s voice rang out to the small crowd.

“The Hutts will be back in two weeks. How can we go up against them? We are simple farmers not warriors.” a distressed voice called out from the crowd.

“We are going to train you. Sleep well tonight. It may be the last good sleep you’ll see for awhile.” Kenobi answered the disembodied voice and a murmur of nervous voices rose in the air like steam.

The townspeople assembled at dawn to start training with the team of strange warriors. Kenobi had asked them to bring all their weapons and while many showed up wielding guns, axes, and knives, some only carried shovels.

“Oh good they brought shovels. I was worried about our chances otherwise.” Maul snarked at Kenobi, who tried to ignore the zabrak, but had to turn his head and hide his soft chuckle at the jeer.

The days were split up into different lessons. Tactical planning with Kenobi, short range shooting with Anakin and Mace, long range shooting with Maul, bomb building With Yoda, bow and arrow lessons with Ventress, and finally knife wielding with Ahsoka.

The days were long and grueling. The townsfolk were not lying about not being fighters. Everyone’s patience was thin, but Kenobi couldn’t help but notice Maul’s steadfastness with the townsfolk. He was patient and kind, but not afraid to motivate them through controlled aggression.

“You have to hate what you’re shooting at!” Maul yelled out behind the line of townsfolk armed to shoot dummies.

“Maul you have quite the knack for this.” Kenobi later remarked to the zabrak.

“A knack for survival? Yes. I care nothing for these simple minded people. You must know that about me by now.” he scoffed.

“Yes, I think I am getting to know you quite well.” Kenobi raised an eyebrow and moseyed away. Maul’s already hot internal temperature went up and he felt flushed and frustrated from the small interaction.

The week went by in a flash. a day like any other, Mace rode back to town after his watch to alert everyone the Hutts were a few hours away. It was go-time. The children and others unable to fight were hidden in the basement of the general store. The shovels had proven useful after all and many of the fighters hid in trenches that had been dug to camouflage their location. There were mines and bombs set along the path to town to take down as many of the Hutt soldiers as possible before they were able to enter town. Ventress and anyone who excelled at bow and arrow or Maul’s long range shooting course were perched atop different buildings in town.

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Kenobi swallowed his spit and it ran slowly down his esophagus seemingly snowballing into a hardened knot of anxiety until it settled into his empty stomach like a stone. He pulled the brim of his hat down to shade his face from the sun, and looked over at Maul. The zabrak’s golden eyes soothed him in an unexpected way, a calmness washing over him like drinking a warm shot of whiskey. A little intoxicating, but just the one did not dull him too much to think and respond clearly.

Maul nodded at Kenobi as he rode Scimitar down to the trenches, a smile creeping along his face for no one to see. He thrived in the chaos and sensing Kenobi’s nervous energy brought him a small amount of joy. He checked in with the trenches and made sure they understood their directions and to wait for the signal.

Jabba and his soldiers stood off in the horizon. Even from a great distance one could see the enormous slug-like nature of Jabba, laid out onto a big floating sled. He gave the signal and a line of soldiers on horseback ran towards the town.

“Steady, Steady.” Yoda’s voice rang out into the trenches. At last, Yoda gave the signal and shots were fired at the incoming soldiers. Once they reached the marked line of bombs Yoda pressed the lever and a giant boom deafened everyone. Horses and soldiers flew into the air in a cloud of dust and body parts. The survivors broke through the dust and ran forward into town. There was no time for anyone to think. Bullets whizzed past ears and into body parts. More bombs were set off taking down several clusters of soldiers at once.

The surviving soldiers made it into town, firefights ensuing all around. Ventress and the others on top of the building taking down soldier after soldier from their vantage point. Mace, Anakin, and Ahsoka all on foot on the street below shooting down anyone in sight. Kenobi and Maul, still on horseback, rode through the town shooting down their assailants at every chance they got. Yoda and the others from the trenches ran back into town to keep fighting as well.

If there had been only one or two waves of soldiers from Jabba, things would have been looking pretty good. Unfortunately, someone as rich as Jabba had an endless resource for anything they desired in life, including soldiers and weapons. More and more soldiers descended onto the small town. Already, many townsfolk had sacrificed their life for the cause. The foul stench of death and direness infiltrated the air of the town, quickly taken over by the smell of fire.

The General Store was set ablaze and the children were all trapped under the building. Without thinking, Maul shot his way through to the store. Inside, smoke filled his lungs and burned his eyes. The trap door to the basement had a burning beam on top of it, trapping anyone underneath it. A swift, force-ful kick and the beam was slid across the floor. Maul crouched down to lift the door and help pull up the children out of the basement. Jade had now made her way to the store to help and her and Maul led the children and others to safety outside of the burning building. They shot down several soldiers on their way as they protected their helpless herd.

Once the children were safe with Jade, Maul mounted Scimitar and rode over to Kenobi.

“We have to take down Jabba. These soldiers only fight because he pays them, if he is gone they stop fighting.” Maul did not even let Kenobi respond as he reached down and grabbed a stack of TNT from the stockpile, and galloped off on his horse.

“Maul, wait!” Kenobi finally yelled after the zabrak, now disappearing into a cloud of dust.

“You chaotic ass!” Kenobi huffed and rode after Maul. As far as Kenobi could tell, Maul’s mission was suicide and he rode to catch up with an urgency never quite felt before. His jaw was clenched, hands formed tight fists around his horse’s reins, and heels dug into the sides of his horse signaling the beast to go FAST.

Maul already had practically made it to Jabba and narrowly avoided being shot too many times to count. The bullets whistled past his ears but he was running on too much adrenaline to be stopped. He dismounted Scimitar about 50 meters from where Jabba lay out on his sled surrounded by his fiercest guards.

Maul held his hands up in the air in an act of surrender, and slowly walked towards the evil slug. Before he got halfway there, one of the overzealous guards shot Maul in the stomach. The impact of the shot stopped him in his tracks and he fell down to his knees in shock clutching his stomach. He pushed the pain aside to stick a cigarette in his mouth and fumbled with his matches. His hands wet with blood and sweat and shaking found it impossible to light the damned cigarette. Several guns were still pointed at him, but Jabba instructed them to hold off, and one of the guards was sent to light his cigarette for him as Jabba laughed at this foolish zabrak dying in front of their eyes.

Once Maul got his cigarette lit, a feverish smile curved his lips. He reached for the dynamite strapped to his back and fell face down ass up into the ground. The guards all laughed at his death and turned away from the pathetic slump of a corpse. Maul sensed when they weren’t looking, lit the end of the dynamite fuse, and threw it at Jabba’s sled before anyone had time to register what was happening.

As soon as the dynamite left his hand Maul was ripped off the ground and on top of a horse fiercely galloping away. The explosion set off narrowly behind them deafening them both.

The fight was over. The remainder of the guards and soldiers left alive ran off now that Jabba had been destroyed in the explosion. Kenobi slowed his horse’s pace and eventually stopped to assess the situation of Maul’s injuries. He gently carried Maul off the horse and into a soft patch of dried grass. Blood was spilling out of the zabrak’s midsection at an alarming rate. Kenobi ripped his shirt off to apply pressure to the wound. Maul groaned fighting off the urge to pass out from the pain and exhaustion.

“You almost got yourself killed, you fool.” Kenobi exasperated holding down on the wound.

“You know first hand how hard it is to kill me.” Maul coughed out.

“Yes, very well, you are incredibly lucky to have survived that just now.”

“Of course I survived.” Maul reached up to touch Kenobi’s face tenderly. Kenobi took his hand in his own and pressed it into his face, blood dripping down from his hand, his eyes filled with tears.

And so they saved the little town. Jade Abernathy gave them all the payment as promised and they stayed to help clean up the town and give burials to those lost in the battle. Kenobi never left Maul’s side as he recovered in the small doctor’s office in town. Eventually, the rest of the team headed out for their own separate next adventures.

Maul slipped in and out of consciousness for several days. Kenobi figured it was the first time the zabrak had actually rested in his whole troubled life. Eventually, Maul’s strength was enough to fully wake up. He immediately saw Kenobi in the corner of the room napping. Kenobi was sitting in a wooden chair, his legs propped up on a footstool and his hat covering his face.

“Kenobi!” Maul growled. The cowboy in the corner of the room slowly reached up for his hat and a relieved grin spread across his handsome face.

“Maul, I am so happy to see you have your strength back enough to be angry again!” Kenobi laughed.

Maul got out of the small bed and limped over to Kenobi with a menacing look. Kenobi stood tall to meet Maul’s fiery amber eyes attempting to cut through his watery blue gaze. Maul, now close enough to touch Kenobi, slowly leaned in to kiss Kenobi on the lips. Initially, Kenobi slightly flinched so taken aback by the act of affection. He couldn’t help the swelling of his heart, wrapped his arms around Maul’s waist and passionately kissed him back. The moment so pure and beautiful, Kenobi finally softly pushed Maul back.

“Maul, I care deeply for you. But you have got to brush your teeth.”

-.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

once again thankee sai for reading my humble writing! Please do leave a comment or heart, it warms my soul.

Tag list: @brilliantbutbatty , @maulieber , @botherbother-blog , @emissarydecksetter , @marvel-starwarsfangirl , @wolfpack-arts-industries99 , @formerly-darth-now-just-maul @mayday1284 , @justalittlecloud ,

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winchester-with-wings · 4 years

Text

Thief at Sea

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Witch!Reader

@yaviel-writes requested (a long time ago lol): Niffler steals stuff from the reader, who is also a witch

A/N: This is an older request that I finished a long time ago but never posted. You might notice a Titanic reference here or there hehehe Hope ya'll like it!

Word Count: 2700ish

This was posted a long time ago on my Patreon! Wanna get previews, early access and make exclusive requests? Become a Patron! You can follow my Patreon for free too! Can’t become a patron? please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi (Tips are appreciated, especially in this uncertain time)

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*gif found on google*

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Newt Scamander figured the likelihood of there being other witches and wizards on a ship bound for New York City was quite possible. Statistically, there must’ve been at least a few wizards amongst the hundreds of muggles aboard. But just as he kept to himself, so must they.

Three to four people were bunked in some of the boat’s rooms. Newt had been fortunate enough to afford a small but private room for him and his suitcase. He wasn’t about to risk the chance of a curious muggle opening his case when he wasn’t looking. Some wizards might not have been so lucky.

Still...Newt found the middle of the North Atlantic ocean to be quite a lonely place. He explored as much of the ship as was permitted, all the while carrying his suitcase with him. His creatures were restless as well. Though they had plenty of living space, they must’ve sensed the change in geography.

Newt visited them when he could, daring to enter his suitcase only when he was in his quarters with the door locked. His longing for land and sun was satiated by Frank’s enclosure. Caring for his young Occamys kept him busy and the Mooncalves needed feeding. And one morning, he checked on the Bowtruckles and found that Pickett had a cold. The small creature was now tucked into his coat pocket for body heat.

The niffler seemed especially susceptible to the world outside the suitcase. He could sense all of the worldly treasures people were travelling with. And if Newt had to guess, it was his niffler who kept popping the latch on his case and attempting to escape. Newt would just have to remain vigilant.

There was a multitude of fascinating people aboard this boat. You filled your days observing them all and basking on the sundeck. As a novelist, you had been looking forward to your ride to America, as much as the trip itself. The crowds and the opportunities for isolation were the perfect conditions to work on your characters and stories.

There were a few people you'd become quite infatuated with too.

A small girl with a pretty dress, large sun hat, and a doll. You'd imagined her to being an energetic little thing, an only child, perhaps a bit spoiled, the kind of girl who had tugged on her mum's hand until she'd relented and bought the hat.

A hearty bloke, rough around the edges, well-worn clothes and a scar here or there on his exposed arms. You would write him as a working man, a former soldier perhaps, in search of a woman and a better life in America.

A young couple with extravagant taste in clothing. The dark haired man looked happier than the red haired woman. You wrote them as arranged, betrothed for wealth and only one of them was happy about it. You imagined her to have a strong spirit and wandering eye. She'd exchanged looks with with a strapping lad, below her class. You hoped they fell in love and defied all the odds.

Another man who caught your attention seemed quite preoccupied with a suitcase. He was lovely to look at with tousled fiery hair and fair skin that had been speckled by sun exposure. He dressed well but they were worn. He looked like a traveller and the way he clutched that suitcase, he must live out of it.

What would drive a man to be so protective of his personal items? Wealth? Perhaps, but you had trusted your cabin to store all of your items. What could he possibly have to protect?

However, you had charmed your personal effects. No muggle...or wizard...could access them. Perhaps this man was a muggle? It was hard to tell. But surely there were other witches and wizards aboard.

The man with the suitcase took a stroll around the ship at the same time every day. At some point, he'd sit at a bench and rest the case on his lap. One of the latches popped open now and then but you never saw what was inside.

What if it was treasure? That was an intriguing thought. You wore your treasures (a locket and an opal ring) around your neck and on your finger, except for your grandmother's ruby ring. That was locked away, with a charm for good measure. No one would get their hands on it.

At least that's what you thought.

You were sharing cabin with a few other women. They seemed pleasant enough. Private yet hopeful for what awaited them in New York.

One of them called New York home and you revelled in every detail and recommendation she could offer you. Another was travelling with her family but they couldn't all fit in one cabin. She enjoyed the company of you and the other young ladies. The third was a girl with a sweet voice and tightly curled hair. She longed for the life of a New York girl; couldn't wait to attend parties wearing glitter and lipstick. She aspired to be an actress and you found her to be quite talented.

They didn't ask too much about you, which you preferred. You didn't want to elaborate on “Grew up outside of London and went to boarding school.” These girls were definitely muggles and they had no business knowing about Hogwarts.

One night, as the ship embarked ever closer to New York, there was a rustling in the cabin. One girl squealed and awoke you and the others.

“Rat!! Don't you hear it? Scurrying about?!”

The cabin remained dark as no one risked touching the floor and encountering the animal. You could hear it and if it was a rat, you weren't too concerned. Rats were common pets at Hogwarts. Yet you played the part of a frightened girl, sitting up in bed and curling your knees to your chest. One of the girls on the top bunk, tossed a shoe at the floor in an attempt to scare off the animal and she must've succeeded because the animal left the room, leaving you all wondering how it got in in the first place.

It was fortunate that you were the one who learned of the creature's true identity the next day. A muggle would've reacted differently.

The sun was bright today, beating down upon you in your several layers of clothing, which had served you well in London.

You took a respite in your cabin around noon. No one else was there as you changed outfits. But as you rifled through your own suitcase, you came to realize something was missing. Try as you might, your grandmother's ring was gone!

You searched the cabin high and low for the ring. It couldn't have left the room! And still you couldn’t find it. Hopeless and upset, you laid upon your bed, burying your face in your pillow.

At some point, you fell asleep. You’re not sure when you did but when you woke, there was a weight on your chest. It reminded you of your cat from Hogwarts and how he used to sleep on you. You thought it was just a dream but there was a tugging sensation at your neck that awoke you.

It happened so quickly, the way you startled as you realized that there was, in fact, something on top of you. You have the chance to either flail or freeze. You chose the latter. You opened your eyes slowly, straining your eyes to look down. It’s not as large as a cat but it’s alarming no matter what. At first glance, you’ve never seen anything like it.

You figured that the creature sitting on your chest--tugging at the locket around your neck--is not from the Muggle world. However, he did slightly resemble a platypus. He didn’t seem malicious but how were you to really know? Why did he have his little webbed paws clasped around your necklace? You tried to sit up slowly, a test to see if he could be scared off or if he’d stay in place. While he did slide down your body, the creature stayed put as best he could. The expression in his sparkling eyes was defiant as he yanked at your necklace.

“Give it to me!” he seemed to be communicating with each tug. You pried his little paws off of the gold pendant and chain and when that tether had been released, you set him down and jumped to your feet.

“You’re the little blighter that was in here last night, aren’t you?” you accused him--not that you expected him to answer. He only looked ashamed for half a second before something shiny caught his eye from across the room. He scurried off the bed towards your cabin mates’ belongings. “Bloody hell! Oh no you don’t!”

Like an uncoordinated cat after a mouse, you chased the creature around the cabin, not once coming close. As he stole a piece of jewelry and some money from one girl’s trunk, you pulled out your wand. He scurried across the room and before you could mutter a single word, the creature squeezed himself through the miniscule crack under the door.

If you doubted whether the creature was magical or not, that certainly answered your question.

“No!” You ran after him, throwing the door open and hoping for an empty hallway. He couldn’t go far on a ship in the middle of the ocean but still you couldn’t have him wandering around and stealing from people. How did he even get here?

As you rounded the corner of the narrow hallway, you risked whipping out your wand once more.

“Accio!” you hissed, exasperated. The creature was caught in your line of sight, susceptible to your charm. He surged into the air and then floated over to you where you suspended him for inspection. You watched as he slipped a coin into an invisible belly pouch. It was then that you realized what this creature was. “Ohhh, you…” you squinted at him, “where did you come from? Of all places to find you…”

The niffler tilted his head and just blinked at you. The corner of your mouth tilted up. He was rather cute, in an odd sort of way. With a flick of your wand, you pulled him closer to you, taking him into your embrace.

“Let’s get you back to my cabin, shall we? Don’t want any muggles to see you.” The niffler nuzzled into you, once again taking hold of your necklace. “If you stole my ring, I’m going to need that back,” you warned him.

The sound of shoes scuffing the floors brought you to the realization that someone else was in the corridor near your cabin. You glanced up to see the red-haired man you’d observed on the upper decks. He was on his hands and knees peeking around other cabin doors. He pulled that brown suitcase along with him as if he needed it nearby when he found what he’s looking for.

You’re about to turn around and hide the niffler when the man’s face lifted to look at you. Your back is to him.

“Oh um...excuse me…” he muttered quietly, getting to his feet. “I must be in your way. I’m terribly sorry. I was just…” He swatted at his coat and finally his gaze met yours as you turned around. “...looking for something…” his voice trailed off. His green eyes trained on the niffler.

“Does this little bugger belong to you?” You approached the man, coming closer to your own cabin.

“Erm, yes that’s my niff--”

“A niffler, yes.” The wizard breathed a sigh of relief at discovering you were a witch. “Were you smuggling this creature into the country?” you accused him, holding fast to the animal. The red-haired man, who’d yet to introduce himself, seemed shifty and unwilling to make eye contact.

“N--no no, absolutely not. I mean, technically, yes. But he was to accompany me on my travels. Never for sale,” he reassured you. “My name is Newt Scamander.” He introduced himself, extending a hand. You took it but not as a handshake.

“We should leave the corridor in case any muggles come by,” you suggested. You pulled Newt towards your cabin and checked to make sure that it was still empty before pushing him into the small space. You locked the door behind you. “Does he have a name?” you asked, holding up the creature that was snuggling into your neck.

“Erm...no...he’s--uh--just niffler.”

“Oh, well that’s boring,” you giggled. “Do you have several nifflers?” Mr. Scamander shook his head. “Well then, if he’s one of a kind in your collection, I should think he should have a name.”

“Y-yes, one of kind indeed,” he scowled at the creature. “And what about you? Surely someone like you must have a one of a kind name, as well?” Newt ventured to say and you thought it almost sounded like a compliment.

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand for real this time. “I was starting to think that if he was just a stowaway and no one was to claim him that I would take on the honor of naming your niffler.”

“What would you call him?”

“I’m thinking...Richard.”

Newt seemed to snort and scoff at the same time. His smile was a crooked one, tilting up on one side when he looked at you with those green eyes.

“I’m--I’m sorry. Richard? Why, might I ask?”

“Well, for several reasons. One: Richard is a very dignified name. Second: Richie the Pickpocket has a nice ring to it and third...well stealing priceless heirlooms from people is a bit of a dick move. Don’t ya think?” you asked as you tried to hold up the niffler and put him on display. Newt grinned.

“I suppose. Though, I see he hasn’t taken your necklace. Not for lack of trying,” he admitted. He started to detach the animal from your necklace and take him into his own arms. The platypus looking creature squirmed.

“Yes, well he did take my grandmother's ruby ring and that’s a problem. Do you know how to get it back?”

“Yes, unfortunately I have too much experience with that.” Newt took the niffler but the foot and hung him upside down. You squeaked, out of concern, but Newt smiled at you for reassurance. With his deft fingers, he started to tickle the creature’s tummy.

Countless items started to fall out of his invisible pouch! All things shiny! Jewelry and coin currency mostly. You imagined he’d be quite the desired tool for criminals looking to make money. Newt didn’t seem surprised, nor interested in the money. Still holding onto his creature under his arm, Newt searched through the pile of treasures until he found the only ruby ring.

“I’ve found it!” he boasts, kneeling before you on one knee. He presents the ring to you and for a moment, the scene before you is eerily similar to a proposal.

You accept your heirloom.

“Thank you so much! I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost it forever.”

Newt put the niffler on the ground but still had a hold of him by the tail. He kept control of the animal while the niffler cleaned up the mess of shiny objects which had spilled like a golden waterfall. He stashed it all away in that pouch again and you couldn't think of an unethical reason for why he couldn’t do so. The little thief probably always had a stash.

Once Richie, the pickpocketing niffler, had cleaned up his mess, Newt brandished his large, old, leather suitcase. He opened it up and shoved the niffler inside, locking it quickly.

“What do you do for a living, Mr. Scamander?” you asked as the two of you left your cabin for the main deck.

“Oh, well uh, I study magical creatures. I’m writing a guide on how to care for them.” There’s a twinkle of passion in his eyes.

“Of course you are,” you grin. “I imagine there’s to be an entire chapter on your niffler?” you teased.

“Yes, you are quite right.”

“I’d love to learn more. If you’d happen to be available during our passage to New York, perhaps we could further discuss it?”

“Oh, yes. There’s much I can tell you. And maybe even show you?”

Your eyes drifted to his suitcase. There must’ve been more than one magical creature stowed away on this trip to America.

#newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt x reader #newt scamander imagine #newt scamander fanfiction #newt scamander fluff #fbawtft #fantastic beasts and where to find them #my writing #eddie redmayne #harry potter #wizarding world #niffler

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waywardnerd67 · 6 years

Text

And For You, Handsome

Summary: Castiel meets Dean at a retro diner where their waitress is smitten with him. Characters: Castiel, Waitress!Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Pairing: Castiel x Waitress!Reader Warnings: Fluff/Implied Smut Word Count: 2683 A/N: This was inspired by seeing THIS POST and my brain would not allow me to move on until I wrote it. So, I’m blaming @ain-t-bovvered since it was her reblog. LOL! As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

Castiel pulled his old beat up Ford truck into the small diner’s parking lot. He parked next to The Winchester’s 1967 Chevy Impala. Castiel had been traveling all around searching for Jack who had disappeared weeks ago. He looked in his rearview mirror running his hand through his chocolate brown hair. His deep blue eyes were tired looking, even if he did not need sleep, from worry.

He got out of the truck and walked inside the diner where he saw Sam and Dean sitting in a booth. “Hello Dean, Sam.” He said sitting next to Dean who was already sliding across the booth to let him in.

“Hey Cas, how is the search for Jack?” Sam asked genuinely looking concerned. Castiel appreciated the relationship Sam built with Jack in his absence. He truly cared for him when he could not be there.

Castiel shook his head, “Nothing. I cannot seem to track him in any way.” He pursed his lips into a thin line.

Just then their waitress came rolling over to them on shoes that had wheels on the bottom of them. Castiel was intrigued by her strange shoes and impressed by her gracefulness.

“Hiya, guys! My name is (Y/N) and I’ll be your bringer of all things delicious.” She smiled down at him as she continued, “What can I get y’all to drink?”

“Coke for me, darling.” Dean said as he gave her his traditional charming smile. Castiel had seen many women fall for Dean’s charms but this woman seemed different. She nodded writing down his drink order and looking to Sam for his without a second look towards Dean.

After taking Sam’s order, she looked to Castiel smiling brightly again, “And for you, handsome?”

He tilted his head slightly confused, “Uh. Water is fine.” She nodded and placed her hand on his shoulder as she pushed forward on her rolly shoes.

Dean and Sam were both chuckling, “Well, well seems like our waitress has a thing for trench coat wearing angels.” Dean said as Castiel looked over to him.

“Why do her shoes have wheels on them? She could easily fall on those.” He asked concerned for her safety as he turned and watched her rolling around behind the counter with a tray full of food.

Sam was now laughing as he said, “This is what they call a retro diner. Back in the 50’s waitress would wear roller skates to serve food to people. It was like their trademark in the industry.”

“Roller skates? That does not simple practical for the food service.” He said as Dean patted his back.

“It’s not, however you can’t help but be impressed with a woman who is that graceful. Am I right?” Castiel looked back over to (Y/N) and nodded slowly as Dean smiled widely at him. “Sammy, I do believe our Cas is intrigued by our waitress.”

Castiel felt his cheeks burning not completely sure as to why they were but he was also feeling a lot of things he did not understand. His stomach felt uneasy and his hands were restless as he slid them over his thighs repeatedly.

“Here we go! Now what can I get you to eat?” she asked rolling to a stop and standing close to him. As she took Sam’s order, Dean leaned over whispering to Castiel.

“The best part about waitresses is they always smell like food.” Castiel looked at Dean curiously as he winked and clicked his tongue.

Castiel leaned slightly closer to (Y/N) and inhaled deeply taking in the smell of fried potatoes, crushed coffee beans and a distinct fruity smell.

“Finally, ole blue eyes here, what can I get for you?” Her (Y/E/C) eyes peered down into his and he felt his vessel’s heart beat accelerate slightly.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he answered, “Um, cheeseburger with fries. Thank you.” She smiled biting her lower lip slightly.

He watched her roll off towards the kitchen. His eyes traveled down her curvy body covered by a bright blue uniform that landed just above her knees. Her legs were long and strong from skating for eight hours a day.

“Cas!” Sam called out as he waved his hand in front of his face.

He shook his head slightly and looked to Sam who was smirking, “Sorry. What were you saying?” he was hoping they would ignore his moment of distraction.

Of course, he was never that lucky as Dean was chuckling louder now, “Cas were you checking out the waitress? Oh, this is good. We are always looking for teachable moments. Now, remember she gets hit on all the time so you have to bring your A-game.”

Castiel rolled his eyes as Dean went on about flirting with the waitress. Sam was trying to get Dean to stop as Castiel’s attention went back to (Y/N). He was not completely inexperience with women though very limited. There was Meg who he had kissed like he saw in the Pizza Man and the Babysitter. Then there was April, the reaper who tried to kill him. His experience with her was most educational more so than watching the Pizza Man.

(Y/N) was talking with one of the patrons of the diner who was standing in front of a jukebox. One of the only good things to come from Metatron was his download of pop culture in his head. As soon as a song started to play (Y/N) began swaying her hips to it. She was skating to deliver food while dancing and singing along to the song.

When she came back over with their food she was humming to herself and he found it pleasing to listen to her unlike listening to Dean sing in the car. “Here you go, handsome. Is there anything else I can get for you now?”

They all shook their heads as she smiled and then she bumped her hip into his arm winking down at him, “Just let me know if you need anything else.” She skated off to check on another table.

“Cas, buddy, she is flirting with you relentlessly. Now, you need to come up with a way to ask her when she’s off and if she would like to meet up later.” Dean explained as he took a large bite out of his burger.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, “Leave him be, Dean. Besides we have bigger things go one like finding Jack that we need to focus on.”

Dean scoffed, “Sammy just because you can’t get a woman to hit on you doesn’t mean we should belittle the opportunity our buddy Cas has here with one smoking waitress.”

“Sam is right, Dean. We need to focus on finding Jack.” Castiel said as he glanced over to (Y/N) who was slightly bend over cleaning a table. Something deep within him stirred and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Dean sighed in defeat, “You two are buzzkills. Alright, let’s talk about Jack and how we are not able to find him.”

As Dean finished his meal he traded plates with Castiel eating his burger as well since he did not eat. They talked about ways to find Jack and Castiel discussed going up to Heaven to see if they would help. Duma was still a little upset over losing her wings but she would just have to see reason and get over it.

(Y/N) had come over a few more times to check on them and for Dean to pay the bill for their food. As they were leaving, Castiel noticed she was taking off her apron and skates towards the back of the diner. He stood next to his truck saying goodbye to the Winchesters and watched them drive off. He was about to get into his truck when he heard (Y/N)’s voice.

“Hey Cas! Excuse me, you left your phone on the table. It’s Cas, right? I thought I overheard your friend call you that.” She called out jogging up to him. She was now in a t-shirt and jeans with normal shoes on. Her hair was down and slightly covering her face from the breeze that was blowing.

He took the phone from her, “Yes, it is and thank you. I don’t remember setting it on the table.” He said as he figured it was Dean who took the phone from his coat pocket.

She bit her lower lip and shifted from one foot to the other nervously, “So, I was wondering… I mean I know you just ate but I haven’t and I was wondering if you would like to join me?”

Castiel knew he should say no and get to the sandbox but there was something within him pushing him to go with her. “Uh, sure.” He said bringing a brilliant smile to her ruby lips.

“Great! You can just follow me. I’m in the little silver car over there.” She pointed towards a car at the back of the parking lot. She began walking towards it looking back at him over her shoulder. There was a slight bounce in her step as she walked making her hair bounce along with it.

He followed her to a small house on the outskirts of town parking his truck in front of it. She waited for him to walk up the driveway to her porch where there was a swing slightly swaying. Watching her unlock the door he followed her inside instantly taking in the sweet smell of apples and cinnamon.

“Can I take your coat for you?” she asked as she hung her bag up in the small foyer. Castiel apprehensively took off his trench coat feeling vulnerable since his angel blade was in his sleeve.

He looked around her small living room that led into her kitchen where she was currently walking into. The feelings coursing through him made him nervous. He was not used to having these particularly feelings of uneasiness, stomach churning, desire.

She came back into the living room with a sandwich and two bottles of water. “Here you go. Sorry, my place is a little messy. I haven’t had any company for a while.”

He sat down next to her on the couch making sure there was a good chunk of space in between them. He liked how she curled her legs under herself as she sat down. It reminded him of a cat curling up to go to sleep.

He did his best to keep up with polite conversation she was initiating. However, Castiel kept getting distracted by the way her plump lips formed words and how staring at them enticed parts of his body to physically react.

She got up taking her empty plate into her kitchen and he took a deep breath trying to calm his vessel down. He was not used to the reactions he was having. He shifted back slightly as she came back in sitting down closer to him now.

She giggled softly the sound had the corner of his mouth turning up into a smile. “Okay, I’m going to be extremely forward, but I’ve been flirting with you hoping you felt something between us. Am I reading into things wrong?” He voice was low and nervous.

Castiel placed his hand on top of hers, “I’m not entirely sure. I’m not very experienced in interactions with women. The few that I have had have not turned out for the best. I know that you elicit feelings within me that I am unsure about having but they intrigue me.”

(Y/N) laced her fingers with his. Looking over to her she looked up at him through her long, thick eyelashes and her tongue darted out moisten her red lips. Castiel bit his bottom lip suddenly feeling like he was being held back. His body was urging him to move and give in to what it wanted but his brain was keeping him in place.

“So, what now Cas?” she whispered pressing her body closer to his.

As if a light switch went off inside him and someone cut the restraints on his tense body he reacted. Crashing his rough lips to hers, his hands landing on her hips and picking her up onto his lap. Her legs landed on either side of him as her hands went into his messy hair.

He let out a small growl as she gently pulled it and he brought her hips closer to him. She let her head fall back with a groan as he trailed his lips down her neck. He noticed she still smelled like diner food and fruit mixing an intoxicating concoction of sweet and salty.

“Bed… room. Now.” She panted pointed down a long hallway.

With ease he lifted her up as he stood and she wrapped her long legs around his waist. As they walked she started taking off her shirt and bra. His mouth went in between her breasts nipping and licking anything he could. Once they were in her bedroom, he let his vessel’s body take over following whatever it wanted to do. He realized soon enough that this was the right thing to do from the sounds coming from (Y/N).

The next morning, Castiel woke up with (Y/N) resting her head on his chest and their bodies wrapped in a single bed sheet. He knew that he needed to leave soon.

He ran his fingers through her hair gently, “(Y/N).” he whispered as she groaned shaking her head.

“Nooo… five more minutes.” She said groggily snuggling closer to him.

He chuckled running his fingers down her bare back enjoying the feeling of her soft skin against his callous fingers. The thought of leaving her made his heart ache yet another new sensation. He waited the full five minutes and then tried moving again.

(Y/N) wrapped her arm and leg around him shaking her head, “Now Cas, you know five minutes was a literal five minutes. Stay. You can’t just leave after giving me one of the best nights of my life.”

He sighed truly wanting to stay, but knowing he needed to leave. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). There is somewhere I need to be. However, I would not mind coming back in a few days to see you again.” She looked up at him with a small smile nodding.

As he untangled himself from her and the sheet he heard her let out a small gasp as he stood up. He looked down at her curiously, “What is it?” he asked.

He could see the same look in her eyes as the night before as she licked her bottom lip, “I guess I just didn’t get to see and appreciate all of you last night. Good god…” She said her eyes traveling down his vessel’s body.

He watched as her eyes widen settling on a particular point. He could feel his body reacting and he could no longer ignore it like he used to be able too. He smiled at her crawling back into her bed and hovering over her. “I guess I could be a little late to my appointment.”

As he walked to his truck from (Y/N)’s house, he heard someone clapping from the driver’s side. He lowered his angel blade as he rounded the corner and saw it was Dean leaning against it.

“That’s my boy, Cas. We have some news on Jack, so I’ll drive us back to the Bunker and on the way, tell me every detail of your night.” He said holding out his hand for Castiel’s keys.

He handed them over getting in on the passenger side. He looked up to her porch seeing (Y/N) sitting on her swing waving goodbye to him. He turned forward sighing already missing her more than he knew he should.

“Don’t keep me in suspense, tell me everything. Did you have protection, at least?” Dean asked excitedly.

Castiel looked over confused saying, “Well I had my angel blade nearby. You know, just in case she ended up like April.”

Dean’s laughter could be heard for the next mile as they drove down the road.

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