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captainsophiestark · 11 months

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Seasons of Love

Dick Grayson x Reader

Materlist - Taglist

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023 which features a ton of awesome creators and runs all year! Go check it out, and please pretend I actually posted this in April and not a month late lmao! Final semester of college is a hell of a time

Fandom: DC

Prompt: Demeter; The Seasons, Pigs, Cornucopia, Nature, Poppies

Summary: A LaLaLand-style series of glimpses into the lives of Dick Grayson and Y/N (without the LaLaLand angst).

Word Count: 4,678

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: This is my first time writing any DC, Dick Grayson included, so hopefully it’s good and true to character! He’s been one of my absolute faves for a long time, but I’ve just recently gotten the courage to write for him :)

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

LATE SUMMER

I smiled at the kids running around the various animal pens at the fair, smiles on their faces as they got up close and personal with all kinds of different creatures they'd never seen before. Working at the fair outside of Gotham every August was never a walk in the park–and usually included more than one instance of vomit-cleanup–but moments like this made it worth it.

Of course, my coworkers and I were keeping a close eye on everything to make sure the animals and kids were both safe. I was in the pen with the goats helping the kids feed them alfalfa, one of my favorite posts of all time. My reprieve in paradise was interrupted, however, when I heard someone frantically shouting my name.

I turned around to find one of my coworkers coming towards me, waving his hands in the air. He'd originally signed up to be on ticket duty, but had gotten moved to working with the animals thanks to some short-staffing issues. He'd made it clear multiple times he was well outside of his comfort zone, and although he'd been doing a fair job of rising to the occasion, this wasn't the first time he'd come running over in a panic.

I made eye contact and nodded at another coworker who came over to monitor the kids (both goats and humans), then stepped out of the pen to meet Andrew, panic still written all over his face. I took a deep breath and prepared to give him a calming speech, but he spoke again before I could.

"The Wayne kids just let the pigs out of the pen!" he cried.

I just stared at him blankly, trying to process, blinking stupidly.

"The who did what?"

"The Wayne kids!" he continued, still a little breathless. "Well, one or two of them at least. I was standing by the pen with the piglets that are racing in twenty minutes, and the little one managed to let them all out! I didn't notice until it was too late!"

"Okay, uh... I guess stay here."

With that, I started marching towards the pig pen, keeping an eye out for any sign of rampaging piglets. My brain screamed at me to process the "Wayne" part of Andrew's story, but I refused to let it. I needed to deal with the piglets first, regardless of whether the ones who'd let them out were part of the famous billionaire Gotham family.

When I got to the piglet pen, which was nestled just behind the bleachers where people would be able to watch the piglets run around a dirt track later, I found chaos. People were running and shouting all over the place, but the piglets were nowhere to be seen.

"Dami, you go around the left and I'll circle this way-"

"I am not helping you recapture them, Grayson."

"Dami-"

I started to turn to see who was shouting at the same time the shouting cut off, because the shouter ran straight into me like a freight train. We went tumbling to the ground in a heap, and suddenly I found myself staring into the beautiful blue eyes of Gotham's golden boy, Dick Grayson. He smiled at me, and I scowled in response.

"What were you thinking?" I demanded, rolling over and pushing him off me as I moved to stand up. He leapt to his feet and held a hand out to help me, but I ignored it. "Why on Earth would you let the piglets out?"

"I didn't!" he insisted, holding his hands up and looking at me with wide eyes. "My little brother saw them sitting in their pen and decided they needed to be liberated. I've never seen anyone successfully stand in the way of him helping an animal before."

I huffed, continuing to ignore Grayson's gorgeous, charming, easy smile.

"I know you probably don't have a lot of experience with it, but those pigs are treated perfectly well, and they were safe in their pen. Letting them out to run amok in the crowd is putting their well being at risk more than anything else in their lives."

"Tt."

I turned at the sound of an angry, disapproving noise from behind me, then had to do a double-take when I didn't immediately see the person responsible for it. Then, I looked down, and found the youngest Wayne child staring at me with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"Father has spent enough time working to end the poor treatment of horses at race tracks for me to be unaware of how animals to be raced are treated."

I blinked a few times, honestly not sure how to react to this ten year old staring me down. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Dick Grayson step closer to stand next to me, but I ignored him. Instead, I crouched down to make myself eye level with Damian, the younger one.

"You're right," I said simply. He harrumphed in triumph, but then I continued. "About the horses, I mean. The way they're treated... it's unforgivable. My family and I have rescued any and all of them that we can, and the ones we've managed to save are actually over by the barn right now, being fed all the apples and oats they can eat by the adoring fairgoers."

Damian Wayne's left eyebrow ticked up, the only sign of surprise or approval at my words.

"These piglets, on the other hand, I can promise you are treated perfectly well. They only 'race' at the fair so people can cheer for cute animals. All they know is they're going for a run and then getting all kinds of food and treats afterwards. And honestly, letting them out in the middle of an inexperienced crowd of people is putting them in more danger than anything else in their normal, daily life."

Damian frowned a little, and he opened his mouth and closed it again a few times before finally speaking.

"I... did not intend for them to be in danger. I will return them to their pen."

"It's alright. You were trying to do a good thing for some animals, I could never fault you for that. C'mon, I'll help you get them back."

He nodded, then turned sharply on his heel and set off with purpose in the direction of commotion from fairgoers. I paused to straighten and smiled after him.

"That was really sweet, how you handled that." I turned to see Dick Grayson looking at me, the first serious expression I'd seen from him on his face. "Dami's a good kid, but he's hard on himself about mistakes. Thank you for handling that the way you did."

I gave him a small smile. "Of course. Any animal lover is a friend of mine. I know I literally just met him, but... I could tell he's a good kid."

We shared a smile at that, a more honest and genuine one than the million-watt grin I'd seen from him before. I held his gaze for a second, then sighed and turned back to look at the rest of the fair.

"Alright, enough talking. Let's go catch some piglets."

To my surprise, Grayson actually wasn't half bad at wrangling piglets. He, Damian, and I managed to work well as a team to get each of the little escapees safely back into their pens, and once the task was complete, I left Damian in charge of giving the piglets some treats for their ordeals.

"That was harder than I thought it was going to be," said Dick, coming to stand beside me at the edge of the pen as we watched Damian and the piglets together.

"Yeah, they're quick little buggers. Makes them good racers though."

Dick shot me a smile, and this time, I couldn't help another one spreading across my face too.

"So... this is kind of a subject change, but what are the odds you'd say yes if I asked you to dinner sometime?"

I turned to face him fully now, eyebrows raised. He just grinned back at me.

"You're asking me on a date?"

"Sure am."

"...Alright, sure. You owe me dinner anyway after showing up at my fair and releasing all my piglets."

He laughed. "Fair enough. How does seven o'clock the first night after the end of the fair sound?"

I smiled. "Sounds perfect."

****************

FALL

"You okay? You look like you're about to have a heart attack."

I snapped myself out of my death stare with the cornucopia in the center of the table to face my boyfriend with a vague smile.

"I'm fine," I insisted, waving off his concerns. Dick and I had been dating for a few months now, after meeting at the county fair. It had been absolutely amazing, and I'd gotten to meet a few more of his family members besides Damian since then, all of whom had been just as lovely. Now, however, we were sitting at the dinner table in Wayne Manor for Thanksgiving, and any minute now I'd be thrown into the full Wayne family craziness for the first time.

To say I was nervous would be the understatement of the century.

"Don't worry," said Dick, leaning down to whisper in my ear. "They're going to love you."

I didn't respond, instead taking a second for a deep breath and a last attempt at calming my nerves. Then, the door to the dining room flew open, and the room devolved into chaos.

I got momentarily swept under in the sudden noise, excitement, and energy as the rest of the Wayne kids moved into the room. A second later, Alfred bustled in carrying armfuls of dishes. A few of the kids moved to help him carry in the rest, but only Cassandra and Duke, neither of whom I'd gotten to know very well yet, were actually trusted and allowed to go help in the kitchen.

Dick gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze as he sank into the seat beside mine. I turned to smile at him, but a sudden commotion to my left ripped my attention away.

"Jason, I'M sitting next to her, you already know her well enough!"

"Too late Brown, I'm already sitting."

"Then move-"

Stephanie, who I'd only met briefly a few times in passing, tried to bodily shove Jason out of the chair next to me, but he refused to budge.

"Why are you so heavy Todd-"

"It's called muscle."

"Or it's called-"

"Stephanie, here, why don't you sit across from me?" I suggested, jumping in before things could really escalate. "It'll be easier to eat and talk to you at the same time from there anyway, which means we can keep up our conversation with fewer interruptions."

She narrowed her eyes, clearly aware of what I was doing, but I just kept looking at her with a beaming smile on my face (and thankfully Jason didn't interject). After a second, she huffed a dramatic sigh and started to move around the table.

"Fine. But only because Alfred would be upset if I tipped Jason backwards out of his chair before Thanksgiving dinner even started."

I grinned at her, quickly passing some food over to Jason, too, so he wouldn't take the opportunity to rub in his victory. Once we were safely out of the danger zone, Dick leaned over to whisper in my ear and give me a sly high five.

"Impressive," he said. "If you can pull that off, you'll be fine for the rest of the night."

I turned to give him a more forced smile than I'd given Stephanie. I appreciated the vote of confidence, but nothing that had happened over the past few minutes had done much to calm my nerves.

"Alright, is that all the food?" asked Bruce, clapping his hands and surveying the table as everyone at last settled into their seats. We'd almost had another disaster when Dami tried to bump Jason out of the seat next to me after Stephanie failed, but thankfully we'd managed to avert that crisis, too, with a promised trip to my family's farm tomorrow, just me, him, and Dick.

"Yeah, I think that's everything B," said Dick, looking over the table the same way his dad did. Bruce sighed, then sank into his seat and clapped his hands.

"Alright, then let's eat," he said.

"Don't forget, Master Bruce," started Alfred, at last sinking into his seat at the opposite head of the table from Bruce. "We still need to say the things we're thankful for."

"You're right, Alfred. Thank you for reminding me." He finished scooping a serving of stuffing onto his plate, then looked up. "I'll start.

"I'm thankful for all of you, safe and sitting around the table for dinner. And I'm also thankful that Y/N could join us. I think we're all looking forward to getting to know her better."

He gave me a kind smile and tipped his wine glass in my direction, and I tried to smile back despite the fact that my heart was pounding in my chest. I'd met Bruce a few times before, but he was still my boyfriend's dad AND Gotham's favorite son (other than maybe Dick). I couldn't help being nervous, since his approval was one of the ones that mattered most to me.

"Alright, that's great," said Jason, bowling right through the moment of silence that hung after Bruce's words–my hero. "I'm thankful for Alfred's cooking."

Every single one of us around the table cheered our agreement at that, and Alfred smiled. The turns moved quickly around the table after that. I had a brief moment of panic when it became my turn, but thankfully, it only lasted for a second before I managed to pull it together.

"I'm thankful for Dick, and for all of you letting me join your family holiday celebrations. I can't wait to get to know you guys better."

Everyone smiled at my answer, and as soon as the spotlight was off me, Dick took my hand under the table to give me a little reassurance. The conversation moved on from Thanksgiving gratitudes, and slowly, I gained confidnence and comfort participating as a member of the group.

I asked Dami about his pets and was honestly happy to listen for the better part of an hour. Jason and I ranted like the biggest nerds on the planet over our favorite books and our TBR piles, and Tim and I connected over a mutual childhood love of Nancy Drew computer games. Duke was the easiest person in the world to talk to, and he made a point of including me in conversations when I started to feel a little lost. Stephanie was so bubbly and friendly, even when she was not-so-subtly grilling me on my entire life, and although Cassandra seemed a little less eager to loudly jump into conversations with me, Stephanie helped bridge the gap and we got along wonderfully. Although they made me a little more nervous, Bruce and Alfred were also nothing but welcoming and kind. It wasn't too long before I was completely at ease, laughing and joking along with the whole table without a doubt about whether I belonged there.

Even when it came to the most ridiculous debates I'd ever been a part of.

"I'm just saying, capes look cheesy," said Jason. "It's fine for a little kid, but grown adults running around in capes look ridiculous."

Stephanie scowled like he'd just insulted her mother. "Oh yeah, because all the vigilantes running around in vests look so incredibly cool."

"No kidding," Tim jumped in. "Red Hood, for example. We all remember that terrible red pill helmet he wore when he first showed up. Or Nightwing's Discowing suit?"

Stephanie snorted into her drink, and Dick's mouth dropped open in shock. Jason started going a little red in the face.

"Brown and Drake are right," said Dami, his tone conveying he meant for this to be the final word on the matter. "The capes can serve a number of different purposes, and would be ridiculous to remove."

He turned to give Dick a pointed look, but I decided not to try to decipher it. I had more important things on-hand.

"Honestly, I say this with nothing but love for the three of you, but I have to agree with Jason," I started, finally jumping in. Everyone perked up at that, turning their attention to me, but I didn't let it deter me. "I mean, haven't any of you seen The Incredibles? No capes! There's like a whole minute-long thing on why capes are generally a bad idea for superheroes.

"And granted, we haven't seen anything like that happen in real life, at least as far as I know," I continued. "And maybe it doesn't matter as much for the indestructible heroes–Superman could probably get chewed up by a jet and survive, I guess. But other heroes, I don't know what they're doing! Somebody really outta show Batman that clip, make sure he knows the danger he and his Robins and everybody might be in."

Everybody stared at me for a second, faces blank, and I started to sweat thinking I'd said something wrong. Then, people broke out into variations of grins, laughs, and agreement with my point that Batman really needed to be more aware.

"I don't know if I remember that clip very well," mused Dick, grinning at Bruce and then the rest of the table as he slid an arm around my shoulder. "Could you pull it up?"

"Sure!"

"Hey Dick?" called Stephanie across the table, her voice dancing with laughter as I searched for the video. "I think I speak for all of us when I say, I love her."

Murmurs of agreement sounded around the table, and my face warmed. I glanced up to give an appreciative smile before going back to my video hunt.

"You better marry her, or we'll have to make Todd do it to keep her in the family," Stephanie continued.

My heart stopped dead in my chest for a second at the idea of marriage as everyone around the table laughed or agreed with her. Then, I couldn't help smiling and laughing too, especially as Jason faked a yawn and stretched his arm around my shoulders before having it playfully smacked away by Dick. My boyfriend pulled me a little closer into his side and gave me a soft smile.

"Alright, let's see this clip," he said, addressing the group as they kept snickering together. "B, lean in here, I think you'll really like this one."

Bruce sighed heavily, but leaned in anyway as the rest of the group shifted too. Edna Mode launched into her speech as I held out my phone screen, Dick and his family gathered around me, and my heart absolutely swelled with love for every one of them. Dick and I really hadn't been dating long enough to be seriously thinking about marriage, but still- in this moment, I could start to picture it.

And I really liked the picture.

****************

WINTER

Whap!

Dick, my boyfriend of a little over two years, whirled around with a betrayed look on his face after I nailed him in the back with a snowball.

"Babe," he whined, his tone wounded. I just shrugged.

"It's training. You need to be aware of your surroundings. CONSTANT VIGILANCE and all that."

Dick raised his eyebrows and took a step towards me as a mischievous grin took over my face. A few months ago, when Dick and I had first seriously started talking about the possibility of marriage being the result of our relationship, he'd finally let me in on the Wayne family secret: not only was I dating the famous Dick Grayson, I was also dating Nightwing the vigilante. The Wayne family was one in the same as Batman and his extended vigilante posse. The few conspiracy weirdos on the internet insisting Bruce Wayne Is The Batman were right.

When he'd started to tell me, I'd first thought he was proposing. He'd been so serious and dramatic, and he'd done it at the end of a romantic, candlelit dinner we'd made together in my apartment. Then, once I realized what he was actually saying, my second thought had been oh, so that's why everyone loses their minds whenever I voice an opinion on a superhero.

At first, it had been a little hard to cope with the new worry that came with knowing my boyfriend put his life on the line every single night. News reports about the Bats and their enemies raised my anxiety WAY more than they ever had before. But Dick had been wonderful, reassuring me and helping me understand all the ways he'd found to stay safe and come back to me. And when that wasn't quite enough, the rest of his family stepped up to support me like one of their own.

Now, a few months after learning their secret, Dick and I were taking a rare full weekend for ourselves. We'd headed up to the mountains for some skiing, hot chocolate, and cuddling by the fire at his family's cabin, just the two of us. After a morning on the slopes and a delicious lunch, we'd decided to go on some of our favorite snowy hiking trails to take in the fresh mountain air.

Hence, my start of the snowball fight.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I'm the one who's supposed to be training you," said Dick, closing the distance between us further. He and his family had been giving me self-defense training at my request, but we'd decided to take a break for the weekend.

"Mmm I'm not sure," I said, shifting backwards a bit to get out of Dick's reach. "I think I'm right."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Then you probably have the better reflexes out of the two of us, right?"

I knew exactly where this was going. I grinned and tried to get my head in the zone before I answered, overconfident to the last.

"Definitely."

"Hm." Dick smiled at me, and then the next thing I knew, he'd wrapped his arms tightly around my waist before I had a second to react. I half-heartedly tried to wiggle free, but before I could, Dick picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I held on to him as tightly as I could, ready for him to dump me in a snow bank and ready to drag him down with me when he did. But the flip into the snow never came. Instead, Dick started walking with me still slung over his shoulder.

"Babe? What are you doing?" I asked, trying to push myself up enough to see where we were going. "I was all ready to wrestle you down into the snow with me."

"Just trust me," he said. Even though I couldn't see it, I could hear the smile on his face. I huffed.

"This isn't exactly comfortable, you know."

Dick just chuckled. We walked a few more steps, then at last, Dick set me down again, keeping his hands around my waist as we stood chest to chest.

"I may have lured you out into the woods under false pretenses," he said, a brilliant smile on his face. I raised an eyebrow.

"If I didn't trust you so much, I might be a little worried."

He smiled, then looked at a point over my shoulder before nodding for me to turn around. I did as his hands dropped from my waist, and I came face to face with his whole family standing around the gorgeous snowy clearing. Each of them held candles or roses in their hands, and they were absolutely beaming at me. I looked at each of them, waiting for some hint or answer about what was happening, but no one gave me anything. Then, I heard Dick's voice from behind me.

"Y/N?"

When I turned, I found my lovely, wonderful boyfriend down on one knee before me, an open ring box in his hands.

My hands flew to my mouth and I started to tear up a little as the situation sank in. Dick smiled, his own eyes a little wet as he continued.

"You are the love of my life. I had no idea when I first accidentally tackled you that you would become the most important person in the world to me, but you have. You make me a better version of myself, and every day I can hardly believe I'm really with you. You not only match me and love me, but you do the same with my family, which truly not many people can do. I can't think of a better person or partner I'd want to go through life with. So will you please do me the honor... of marrying me?"

"Baby... of course! Absolutely yes!" I cried, the tears fully flowing now as I dropped to my knees in the snow to join Dick. I threw my arms around him and held him tight, and both of us stayed like that for a few long moments before Dick pulled back, tears glistening on his cheeks and a smile on his face. He pulled me tightly to him and kissed me. I kissed back, running my hands through his hair as we got lost in each for a few moments before we pulled apart again. I held out my hand, shaking just a little, and Dick slipped the ring on my finger.

Cheers sounded from behind us, and I came back to reality as Dick's family came over to congratulate us. I wrapped each of them in my best bone-crushing hug, making sure they knew how happy I was to be joining them as family in the near future now, too.

After we'd all exchanged hugs (reluctantly or otherwise), I found Dick at my side again, wrapping his arm around my waist. I tucked into his side and it felt like I'd always belonged there.

I couldn't wait to spend the rest of my life just like this.

****************

LATE SPRING

I took a deep breath and stared at the double doors in front of me, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn't wipe the biggest, cheesiest smile off my face, no matter how hard I tried. Today was my wedding day, and I couldn't be happier.

Steph and Cass had helped me find the perfect dress. My bouquet was filled with red poppies, my favorite flower. Dick and I had worked together to plan a dream wedding for the both of us, and now everyone we loved was gathered here to celebrate with us.

Everything was perfect.

I heard music start up, then a second later, the doors swung open. It didn't quite feel real as I took my first steps down the isle, towards Dick Grayson and the rest of my life.

It started to feel more real when I finally reached him, standing in front of so many people with eyes only for the man before me. We stood together, hand in hand and eyes locked on each other as the ceremony went on. We read our vows, said "I do", and before I knew it, we were married.

Dick swept me off my feet in a kiss as the crowd cheered. We laced our hands together and ran down the isle together, deliriously happy as our friends and family sent us off. We climbed into the waiting car as the door shut behind us, and I snuggled up against Dick's side before leaning up to give him a kiss. Finally, it felt real.

"I love you, Dick Grayson," I said, smiling up at him. "I can't wait to throw around the phrase 'my husband' until every single person we know is sick of it."

Dick laughed. "I love you too, Mrs. Grayson. And I can't wait to see who breaks first."

"My money's on Jason, unless anyone else says it's annoying first. Then I think he'll back us to mess with everyone else."

Dick laughed, then leaned in to give me a soft, tender kiss.

"I love how well you know them."

"Well... they're my family now, too."

We shared a smile, then settled into comfortable silence together, leaning against each other for support while we rested for the little bit of time we had now before the reception got into full swing. Tonight would be a long night for both of us, but I absolutely couldn't wait. I loved Dick with my whole heart, and going through every part of our futures together–good, bad, and crazy–was the best thing I could possibly think of.

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myheartalivewrites · 3 days

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20 questions for fic writers

Hey @cha-melodius thanks for tagging me in this!

How many works do you have on ao3?

What's your total ao3 word count?

329,905

What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB and A Marvellous Light (The Last Binding trilogy). I've been thinking about writing for We Could be So Good by Cat Sebastian since I read it last week. I loved it so much I binge read 3 other books by the same author straight after, and then turned right back to WCBSG. Book rec for everyone who's not read it!

Top five fics by kudos:

Deep Blue

Just Like That.

Oxford Days

In His Wildest Dreams

A tie for fifth! Have One (On Me) and Tumbled Down and Tangled Up

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! Unless they're a bit dodge lol

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is the question that reminds me I've done this game before hehe. I'm only interested in happy endings so this is hard to choose, but Don't Wanna Be A Fool For You is quite angsty and ends just as they're getting over the angst, so I have to go with that.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I always write happy endings, BUT, if I must choose, I'm gonna go with a non-RWRB fic here. in your room, like a temple is an epilogue of sorts to A Marvellous Light, and it makes me SO HAPPY to have written this settled future for Robin and Edwin.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not usually, though I did get a couple of annoying comments on my first threesome fic from people who thought their own vision of monogamy for Alex and Henry was something they had to come and tell me about 🙄

Do you write smut?

hahahahhaaaaaaaa yes

Craziest crossover:

Never done one

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No! Someone did ask me about translating Deep Blue but I don't think they've followed through with it. I'd love it though

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

All time favorite ship?

Alex and Henry

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oooh, I don't have any WIPs on ao3 to feel guilty about. What sits on my hard drive is between me and my atheist god (also me)

What are your writing strengths?

Yikes, ok! Here are things I like about my writing: I like the way I write smut that's super emotional AND super hot, and all the different ways I've come up to make smut scenes different from each other (because writing them can sometimes feel repetitive from my perspective). I like the way I play with rhythm in sentences and build tension in scenes. I like the way I build emotional and sexual tension in a piece overall. Please no one drop into the notes to tell me they disagree 😂

What are your writing weaknesses?

I CANNOT come up with external obstacles! Whenever I'm trying to plot something out and I'm trying to come up with BIG PLOT REASONS to keep people apart, my brain just freezes. I love internal obstacles, the emotional reasons why people choose to do the things they do, but as for external things to move the plot along (think Jeffrey Richard leaking emails, Queen Mary telling Henry how to live his life) I'm just... ultimately uninterested in them. Which is fine if it's a choice, and I love a lot of writing just like that, but I wish my brain could at least TRY.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Like it.

First fandom you wrote in?

RWRB

Favorite fic you've written?

Haha good one. Changes all the time. Current fave: Paper Chains, I think (a personal stab to my heart how much it's underrated). I tried something new for me with the structure, and I think the emotional punches hit so hard, I'm so proud of it. Or maybe the new one for RBB, called Foxden Park. Coming soon!

No pressure tags (and sorry if you've already done this and I've missed it!): @thesleepyskipper @firenati0n @welcometololaland @inexplicablymine @sparklepocalypse

@onetwistedmiracle @tintagel-or-cockleshells @historicallysam @cultofsappho @14carrotghoul

@suseagull04 @magicandarchery @itsmaybitheway @porcelainmortal @anincompletelist and anyone who fancies joining in! 😘

#about me #tag games #my writing #rwrb fanfic

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writingwhimsey · 8 months

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Revenge is A Dish Best Served Wet

Another addition to @xxsycamore's Late Summer Rendezvous event!

Prompt: Naughty Revenge after beach sports game (though the "game" in this is more or less just them playing around in the water)

Fandom: ikesen

Suitor: Masamune

Revenge is A Dish Best Served Wet

NSFW 18+ content, fingering, oral (female receiving), edging, overstimulation, PIV, semi public sex

“Oh…this is so refreshing!” I gushed as I ran into the water, cool and refreshing on this sweltering summer day.

“I love seeing that smile on your face, kitten.”

I turned to the shore, looking at Masamune as he sat himself on where the waves could lap at his feet. “You’re not gonna get in here with me?” I asked.

Masamune grinned, his one blue eye sparkling. “I just want to watch you enjoy yourself.��

“Like you haven’t been hot too.” I replied, pouting at him. “I can’t be the only reason you wanted to come to the beach.”

Masamune chuckled. “Just enjoy yourself, kitten.”

It was then that I got an idea. I swam just a bit closer…and as usual I couldn’t hide my feelings.

Masamune eyed me suspiciously. “What are you up to, Kitten?” He asked. “I see that playful gleam in your eyes.”

I grinned innocently. “Nothing.” Then I was splashing him.

Masamune lifted his hands and laughed as he blocked the water from going into his face. “If that’s what you want, Kitten. You better be prepared for what’s to come.” Masamune said. He was then getting up, stripping down to his under layers and removing his eyepatch before wading into the water.

I let out an eep of surprise as I quickly swam away. Though a smile was on my face as Masamune chased me in the water. Of course he was faster than I was and the next thing I knew his arms were wrapping around my waist and he was playfully pulling me under the water with him.

I was gasping and giggling as we came to the surface. Masamune kissed my cheek and playfully nipped at my ear. “Told you to be prepared for what you had started.” He whispered into my ear.

I felt a shiver run down my spine and heat began to pool low in my body. But I bade my libido to calm down…at least for now. “I’m always prepared.” I replied, giving him a playful grin before splashing him once again and breaking free from his arms.

We spent a while, splashing and chasing each other before Masamune caught me in his arms once again. “Gotcha Kitten.” Masamune said in my ear before nipping at my lobe. His large hands began to trail teasingly over my stomach before moving further north and cupping my breasts.

“Mmm…so you do.” I replied, leaning back into him. “Just what do you plan to do with me…now that you’ve caught me?”

Masamune was kissing my neck and I could feel his lips quirking into a smile against my skin. “I’m going to have to get you back for splashing me and making me chase you.” He answered, gently pinching my nipples through the thin wet layer of my under kimono.

“Mmm…Masa…mune…” I moaned at the touch. I started to reach my own hands back, feeling at him, but he was capturing my hands before they could travel too far south.

“Sorry kitten, but you don’t get to touch me. I’m doing all of the touching.” He said, holding both of my hands behind my back in one of his. His other hand traveled down the front of my body before slipping inside my wet and disheveled under clothes, teasing at my thighs.

I wriggled in his grasp, wishing he would touch me where I wanted, causing him to chuckle in my ear. “Masamune…” I whined.

“When my kitten sounds like that…” Masamune said with a grin, his fingers finally sliding to where I wanted his touch the most, sending thrills of electric pleasure through my body.

“Ah..ngh…oh…yes…there…” I moaned as his fingers toyed with my sensitive bud.

Masamune continued to stroke me, all the while the coil in my core tightening. Just before I was about to tumble over the edge, he withdrew his fingers and I let out a whine at the loss of stimulation.

“Not yet, kitten.” He told me.

Masamune was then taking us to the shore and laying me back in the soft wet sand where the waves could gently lap at our bodies. He swiftly moved to untie my clothes and then his lips were on my newly bared flesh, his tongue snaking out to lap at the water droplets on my skin.

I let out a particularly loud moan when he took a nipple into his mouth, teeth raking over the hardened peak before his tongue ran soothingly over it. “Ah…MASAMUNE!”

He soon released my nipple and began to trail his lips down the front of my body, teeth raking over my sensitive flesh as he did so, tongue coming out to taste me. I was trebling by the time he reached my lower belly. He looked up at me, his one blue eye glinting with mischief.

“Mmm…Masamune…” I let out in a voice that was somewhere between a moan and a whine, causing him to grin ever wider.

“Don’t worry, kitten.” He replied before parting my thighs and positioning them to rest on his shoulders, his head dipping down and his lips and tongue finally on my lower lips. He licked a stripe up my slit before swirling his tongue around that pleasure pearl, his tongue twisting and dancing over me in the most delicious of ways.

Pleasure coursed through me as white hot heat began to build up inside me. My thighs reflexively began to tighten sound Masamune’s head and I rutted against his face, seeking more of this sweet stimulation.

Masamune continued, though stopped once again just before my release could hit me. I whimpered and pouted at him desperate for release. “Masamune…”

He grinned at me. “I told you I was going to get you back.” He replied.

“Ugh,,,Masamune, I NEED more…please…please let me cum?” I begged, not caring how desperate I sounded. He wasn’t usually one to deny me like this.

“I’ll let you…just not yet.” Masamune replied, grinning at me before he began to kiss up my body, slowly positioning himself between my legs as his lips soon came to mine.

I wrapped my arms and my legs around him as he began to slowly tease my entrance, sliding in just the tip. I broke the kiss to pout at him. “Masamune…please…please fill me up and let me cum?” I pleaded.

“You’re too cute when you beg for me, kitten.” Masamune replied, still grinning. “Of course, how can I deny a request like that?” He was then fully sliding within me.

I let out a moan at the feeling of finally being full. I was so sensitive from the repeated pleasure and denial of release. Masamune began his thrusts and my back was already arching and it wasn’t long before I finally felt my release washing over me.

At the height of my orgasm, Masamune was bringing his fingers down to toy with my sensitive bud, drawing out my orgasm.

When I finally began to come down from my high, Masamune began his work again, moving us into a new position with my ankles resting on his shoulders and my hips slightly elevated, allowing him to hit deeper with his thrusts.

On and on, Masamune continued, making love to me and switching positions after each climax. By the time we had finished, I was brought to a state of oversensitivity, my body trembling and weak, tears of pleasure at the corners of my eyes, and my breath coming in panting gasps. It was the most thrilling and exhausting payback I had ever gotten.

@zulablaise @limonzu @kisara-16

#late summer rendezvous #late summer rendezvous!#ikesen #ikesen masamune #ikemen sengoku masamune #masamune date #ikemen masamune #cybird masamune #ikemen sengoku #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #fanfic #cybird #otome boys #fanfiction

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chaosangel767 · 2 years

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Congrats on 200 followers! 🎉 Could I please request Ikevamp Arthur with dialog prompt: “This is not what I meant when I told you to fall for me.” and smut prompt: "did you forget your panties today?"

Hi Darling! I am so sorry this ask sat for a while. Arthur decided to slip my mind for a few months. I hope you enjoy 💝

Dangerously Falling

Fandom: IkeVamp

Pairing: Arthur x F!Reader

Prompt: “This is not what I meant when I told you to fall for me.” & “Did you forget your panties?”

Type: NSFW – MINORS DNI

Warning: Teasing, Groping, fingering

WC: 498

Tagging: @toloveawarlord, @thewitchofbooks, @queen-dahlia, @kissmetwicekissmedeadly, @aquagirl1978, @canaria-blackwell, @devildomwritersposts, @ikesimp100, @sarahann-1884, @kpop-and-otome, @citizensofcradle, @littlewitty, @curious-skybunny, @lordsisterxotome , @queengiuliettafirstlady,@namine-somebodies-nobody, @jihanel, @atelieredux , @violettduchess - If you want to be tagged or remove please dm me or fill out the form here.

One of the most annoying things about being in a mansion with vampires? They love putting things just out of reach. You swear they do it on purpose, as the step stool always seems to be conveniently missing whenever you need said item.

A frustrated growl leaves your lips as you balance on the chair in the dining room. Trying to dust off the scone that is just out of reach, you precariously edge toward the edge of the chair.

“That looks dangerous” jumping at the voice below your foot slips off the chair and you expect to tumble down. Landing on a firm chest you look down into blue eyes.

“Easy now, this is not what I meant when I told you to fall for me” Arthur teases, his hands holding you steady.

“Are you hurt?” You scramble to get up, but Arthur holds you close to him, sitting back against the wall.

“Worried little bird?” His teasing never ends, you huff at the vampire and turn to get up. A hand on your thigh stops you. Slipping his hand under your skirt, Arthur studies your face. A flame of desire flickers to life, the sapphire eyes call to you. Alarm bells go off in your heart, wanting to protect your heart.

“I think I get a thank you for saving you” the playful tone is laced with desire and you pause. His hand is warm as it massages up your thigh. Resting your hands on his shoulders you wait, letting his fingers trail across your skin, you mind torn on accepting your feeling for the man. Giving in to the voices, you rest your head against his shoulder.

"Naughty luv, did you forget your partles today?” The words pull you from your thoughts, and the sapphire eyes hold a mischievous glint as his warm hands knead your thigh. A ticklish sensation erupts along your core as he ghosts his finger past the sensitive nerves. Your face is aflame and a soft whimper leaves your lips.

“Arthur” His name is barely a whisper from your lips, your body responding to his touch by leaning closer. A silent beg for a kiss. His eyes watch your face, enjoying the way your eyes darken, and how your lips part. After waiting a moment , his lips meet yours. As he deepens the Kiss, his fingers grow more bold. Muffling Your moans with his mouth, his fingers slide into your core.

Your fingers grip his lapels, both to grasp your bearings and to keep the writer close. You can feel his erection against your thigh straining, to be free. As if reading your mind, Arthur's hands leave your core and grasp your thighs just as footsteps are heard down the hall. Hoisting you into the air, your legs wrap tight against his waist as he carries you to his room. The door shuts behind the two of you with a thud and Arthur wastes no time in stripping off your dress, laying your bare body on his bed.

“Now then, where were we?”

#ikemen vamp #ikemen vampire smut #ikevamp smut #ikevamp arthur #chayas follower event #chayaasks

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destiniesfic · 2 years

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'You're dripping like a saturated sunrise/You're spilling like an overflowing sink/You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece/And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink/Everything is blue/ [...]Everything is grey' doot doot HI HELLO (is this not the normal way to greet ppl),Playlist*mumblemumble*!anon here to thank you so much for the incredibly sweet positive vibes [also-glad you liked that super immersive edit!+yep,pesky pronouns], to hope the week's been kind to you so far and that it'll keep that streak going &to bug you with some other questions,if that's okay?If you've pressed 1 to continue :D do you think Arcane's unique storytelling has impacted your writing?On a relatively similar note-looking at some of the fics you've written for other fandoms [one day I'm gonna get into at least 1 of those,if only to read your works,like holy heck,you've written a 155k word epic??Big W for the reylos],which also include large casts,& in light of your WIP,I was wondering if you found these plot-on-a-grand-scale-sorta stories either more stifling [cause it can be a bit like herding cats?] or more freeing/exciting than,say,the more intimate character/relationship exploration-types of works?OH,and here's a random bit of lore I recently discovered:apparently Zaun-in the game,at least?- has a College of Techmaturgy ["the city's best known institution of learning"] *cue an avalanche of ~what equipment/instructional materials Silco might've finessed them out of for Jinx [or maybe she could've pinched those herself] + ~could there ever have been any talk of enrolling her there?-food for brainrot. But yeah. ✨Rooting for you✨ [kick any and all metaphorical butt that needs kicking today! ]

PLAYLIST ANON! I have decided to call you "Playlist Anon," leaving aside the mumbling. You have a tag now and everything. This week's been a doozy to be honest — we just finished a three-month project! — but it should be smoother sailing going into the weekend. (I also swapped out a couple of songs on the playlist yesterday, if you've been checking it!)

Okay, I have pressed 1:

Has Arcane's unique storytelling impacted my writing? Well, I am writing, so, yes. Prior to tumbling down this rabbit hole I'd had a case of burnout-induced writer's block for a couple of months, so it's been nice to get out of that! But otherwise, I think my writing is much the same? Jinx has given me a little more of an opportunity to play with voice, but the elements that make Arcane so interesting tend to be things I'm attracted to when writing and consuming fiction anyway!

Are plot-on-a-grand-scale-sorta stories more stifling or more freeing/exciting than the intimate character/relationship exploration-types of works? I don’t find these grand scale and relationships mutually exclusive! They give me more of an opportunity to explore the world in addition to character dynamics, which I really enjoy. But exploring more plot gives you an opportunity to explore more characters, even intimately! That Reylo fic you mentioned covers some galactic politics but is also like 60% set in someone’s bedroom.

If you’re going to read any of my bigger fics and you know anything about Shadow and Bone, I’d recommend Out of Time! 132 Hours, which is for a different fandom, has also been getting a lot of love lately.

Would Jinx go to the College of Techmaturgy or perhaps steal equipment from said college? You know, we’re looking at a Zaun that is very prequel-y to the game so I wouldn’t be surprised if they haven’t established their own institutions to rival Piltover’s yet? I don’t think Jinx would go to a school but she would definitely pinch some equipment. ;) Thank you so much for your questions, I always enjoy them. ♥️ HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND!!

#playlist anon #anonymous #ask

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hpalways · 3 years

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Heyy I was wondering if you could write just a few hc or one shots for Albedo, Kazuha, or Venti with an s/o who overworks themself with work and stuff? Yknow- comfort stuff :3 Unfortunately I’ve been having to work over fifty + hours these past few weeks, and I love your writing! Have a nice day btw-!!

Note: hiiiii! yes! of course. this sounds lovely to write about. please take care of yourself omg, that sounds really stressful and tiring. aww! and thank you for enjoying my works, im so happy to hear that ^^

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Venti

Warnings: None

Albedo

When he sees you studying religiously in the workshop, he goes to the nearby campfire. Finding a pot and some water, he warms it up to make hot cocoa. Heading back to you, he hands it to you, watching your face light up in pleasant surprise.

As the workshop in the mountains can still get cold, he fetches a wool blanket to wrap around your arms. It allows you to have a better time with your research.

He tries to take your mind off of work by asking you to be his model for his next art piece. You are told to lay down, because he wants to draw you that way. Despite shooting him a confused look, you follow through with it anyway, getting into a position that’s too relaxing. Soon enough, you fall asleep and he quickly tends to you and tuck you in.

Other times, he wants you away from the workaholic atmosphere. Holding your hand tightly, he leads you out of the cave-like study and into the pretty snow. A light flutter falls from the skies, tickling your cheeks in gentle waves. The two of you stroll through the slippery slopes, and he makes sure no harm comes to you.

He talks philosophically and about the world, giving you a break from the load of paperwork.

However, he is quite the workaholic himself, his thoughts always straying to him own studies. This usually strikes some sense in you, where you help pull him out of his stupor, as well as your own. The two of you continues to remind each other that breaks are needed. He’s your rock to hold onto; and you were his.

“[Y/N]? You appear very tired. Slow down and let me fix you some tea.”

Kazuha

Whispers poetry into your ear. His voice itself is soothing to you, calming your frantic nerves from the ongoing training that was set in stone. Every word that comes out is like silk, which relaxes your tense muscles.

Pulling you away from the training grounds, he shows the nature views he has grown so fond of. Maple leaves rain down in gentle motion, the scenery warming you up inside with comfort. It is beautiful and you do not regret sneaking out with Kazuha for this moment.

He talks about his homeland, Inazuma, full of raw emotion and beautiful phrases that take your breath away. He tells you not to rush what fate has in store for you, to take it easy and go at your own pace. This relieves your stress easily.

You are sometimes taken out to the ship, where you are not allowed to train. The sea laps beneath the engine, blue waves furling in a way that soothed you. It is beautiful, the horizons stretching far and wide, with the rising morning sun in the distance.

Seeing your tired expression, he takes you to the middle of nowhere -- the meadows where it is warm and the sun basks. He says the wind leads him here. And before you know it, the two of you are knocked out on a rock, taking a nap together to find your energy again for the next coming day.

At times, he goes easy on you during battles, soon turning it into a fun word game where he contemplates haiku.

“The wind is calm today. Come. We don’t need you rushing either.”

Venti

Always very willing to distract you from your paperwork. Barging right into your office at the Favonius Headquarters, he walks to you with a giddy smirk.

He takes no objections, deaf to your protests as he forces you out of there, running through the fields with you fumbling behind him. He goes to Windrise, expertly climbing up his favorite tree. You sit beside him, letting out a sigh at the male. You are secretly happy to be here instead.

Plays his precious lyre to you, the melodic song ringing into your ears. They make you feel warm inside... and sleepy. His voice is angelic as always, with favorite lyrics tumbling out of his precious lips.

Of course, he brings you to his favorite tavern in Mondstadt, Angel’s Share. Buying a bunch of drinks, the two of you drink and feel the rush of it kicking in. He is smiling in content when you sag your shoulders into a relaxed state, no more worrying about the irrelevant stuff from before.

Tells you lots of jokes. You try not to laugh at them, but he eventually gets to you anyway. His teal eyes watch you softly, content to destress you from the workload you keep putting on yourself. He misses when you had more freetime -- when you aren’t fretting about the littlest things.

He gives you a lot of surprise hugs. His arms are surprisingly strong, tightening around you and stubborn to let you go. You feel yourself giving in to the sturdiness of his arms.

“Free yourself from the chains of responsibility, [Y/N]. Eheheh. Pretty please?”

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x-childish-x · 3 years

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(part 1) i am loving these anakin x mother figure concepts 😄 could i also request one haha, after order 66 reader survives and becomes a grey jedi. while on a mission, she runs into darth vader. they fight for a little bit, but soon stop after they recognize each other through the force. surprisingly, vader isn’t hostile towards her while they talk, but he’s not calm either. reader refuses to keep calling him vader. after their convo reader slowly approaches him and

Something You're Not

Pairing: Darth Vader x fem!reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Warnings: Darth Vader, female!reader, mother figure!reader, crying, mentions to feeling like a failure, fighting, mentions to Order 66

Word Count: 1,352

A/N: Hello lovely! Wow I loved writing this request! First Darth Vader request, woo! It was so fun to write because the entire time I felt I could see this all playing out! Thank you for the request and support! I appreciate it so much! Feedback is always welcome and appreciated, I really hope that you all enjoy this one!!

Summary: You finally reach the force signature that had been reaching out with you for weeks, only to realize it's none other than Darth Vader, the boy you once raised.

PART TWO, PART THREE, PART FOUR

(gif! not mine!)

"Rex, take care of Ahsoka for me... I know how badly she wants to be on this mission. I can't risk it," you mumbled through the holo-comm as you carefully landed your ship.

"You know I always will. She's busy with Ezra right now anyways, so hopefully, he'll keep her mind occupied. Just be safe. If this is Maul, we need to know why he's been reaching out to you," Rex replied, his voice sounding tired.

You sighed, clicking everything off before standing, "Don't worry, Rex. It'll work out. I'll be home within a rotation."

"You better be," Rex joked lightly, "Be safe (y/n). May the force be with you."

"And with you."

Clicking off the holo-comm and leaving it on the ship, you quickly set off outside. Pulling up the hood on your grey cloak, you looked around cautiously, taking in your surroundings and using the force to reach out.

You could feel the dark side of the force more prominently now that you were here. It was almost strong enough to make out a force signature, but not completely. Despite the fact you still seemed far away from the dark force energy, it felt incredibly familiar, and that was what lead you to believe it was Maul. After all, he was the only Sith whose force signature you were familiar with.

It didn't take long for you to find the correct path leading to the Sith. Following the dark force signature proved to be an easy task for you. You trekked through the forest for what felt like hours. You carefully avoided all unknown plants and made sure to keep your presence as obscure as possible. You were using the force to the best advantage you could, mapping out your path while still trying to identify the oddly familiar Sith signature.

Finally breaking out into a clearing, you held your breath at the sight of Darth Vader's back. His cloak swooshed in the light breeze as you watched him, quickly thinking over everything you'd ever heard about him. You felt like you were in a holo-film, at the big climax moment when you face off the main villain. Fog would be piling in, surrounding you and Darth Vader as you prepare to fight.

Undoubtedly he knew you were there, and despite the fact, the two of you had never encountered each other before, your force signatures were incredibly familiar. Dancing around each other like fawns, trying to figure out why the unknown was so incredibly welcoming, like coming back to an old friend.

"I did not know you'd survived Order 66," Vader's ominous voice broke through the silence, venom, and hatred surrounding each word.

Slowly you stepped out from the faint protection of the trees, "It wasn't of my knowledge that you even knew me."

"I don't," Vader replied curtly, allowing a pause as your signatures moved around one another, "You're a Jedi unaccounted for."

"I prefer it that way," You snarled.

Dashing forward at the same moment Vader's force signature delivered a harsh prod to your own, you unsheathed your lightsaber. Leaping into the air and slashing down on Vader's back, you made contact with his lightsaber, sparks of grey and red dancing in the calm aura of the planet. He was quick to spin and send a counter swing at you, but you blocked it quickly. You locked sabers and spun him around, doing your best to throw him off.

Despite the situation of your fighting, you found each other still dancing within the force, trying to identify each other's signature. Your fighting was incredibly familiar to him, and his defense was familiar to you. Akin to a thunderstorm, you both fought quickly and powerfully. Neither obtaining the upper hand, you matched perfectly clash after clash, block after block.

Your fierce fighting was like a tornado destroying a small town. The planet around you was calm and peaceful, undisturbed by the fight for life you'd engaged yourself in. It certainly wasn't Maul who'd been trying to connect with you over the past weeks, and you found yourself wishing that it had been the Dathomirian instead. You'd overcome enough and lost too much to not give up now.

Finally flipping away, your hood fell as your force signatures connected, a gasp tumbling from your lips, "Anakin?"

"Master (y/l/n)," Vader responded softly.

A silence fell as you stared at one another. Of course, he was familiar. You trained Anakin, helped Obi-Wan raise him. You'd been Anakin's mom ever since he'd joined the Jedi, and he, your son. You'd assumed he'd died in Order 66, as Obi-Wan refused to talk to you. But now, staring across at Anakin in Vader's armor, you felt more like a failure than you'd ever had.

"You traded the purple for grey," Vader noted, causing you to look down at your blade.

Looking up at Anakin, you fought to keep your voice strong, "You traded blue for red, Ani."

"Anakin's dead," He snarled, turning off his lightsaber.

You mocked his actions, tilting your head slightly, "If Vader was here, he would've killed me already, Anakin."

"I am Vader! My name is Vader," The man huffed, "I killed Anakin myself!"

You shook your head, "I will not call you something you're not, Anakin. I trained you to be honest... true to yourself and your emotions. I will do the same now."

Vader seemed to falter, his hands repeatedly clenched and unclenched. The soft whir of machinery filled the air as you stared at the man in front of you. You took a step forward slowly, your eyes filling with remorse as you used the force to search through Anakin.

"What'd they do to you, my sweet Ani?" You whispered, "Why didn't you come to me? I could've helped you."

"Nobody could've helped him!" Anakin raged, yelling in anger that seemed directed at himself, "He was lost! Gone! Anakin would've died regardless! I, Vader, would've killed him regardless!"

"No," You mumbled, looking around at the planet you'd been called to, "You wouldn't have died, Ani. It would've been like any other mission, any other obstacle before. I would've helped you get through it, like always."

"Anakin is dead!" Vader cried out, his voice breaking, a hint of desperation sneaking through, "He's gone."

Slowly, you stepped forward, watching the way Anakin's chest rose and fell with each mechanical breath, "No... you're not gone, Anakin. You're not gone, and like all the times before, I'll be waiting to help you."

Taking in a deep breath, you anxiously wrapped your arms around Anakin, noticing how much taller he was. His arms remained by his side in shock, trying to sort out his emotions. Anakin's mechanical breathing filled your ears as you squeezed the boy you raised. Tears fell down your cheeks as you held him to your chest, wishing you had been able to help him. Wishing you'd stayed by Anakin more during the Clone Wars. Wishing that you could turn back time and save the little boy you loved so much.

Squeezing tighter for a brief second, you whispered, "I love you, no matter what, Anakin."

Letting go of the man, you stepped back quickly, hoping that the powerful Sith Lord hadn't seen your tears. But you knew that you'd been too slow, and you knew Anakin knew you better than that. Watching as you walked back and disappeared into the trees you'd come from, Darth Vader wondered if he would ever see you again. He'd reached out to you for weeks, and he wondered now if you would ever reach out to him, remind him you were still alive, waiting for Anakin to return.

Boarding your shuttle, you let out a cry as you reached for your comm. There were so many regrets you held and so much you wished you would've done. But the past was not something you could dwell on. You could only hope that you'd been able to reach Anakin quickly enough.

"Rex?" You called weakly into the comm. You waited patiently for Rex's reply until you heard your name called worriedly, "I'm coming home."

Taglist: @nowthisisdark

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

Selfish Part 3

Pairings | Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x f!reader (kind of?)

Warnings | smut, vaginal sex, swearing

Word count | 1798

Summary | Steve's selfish choice brings Bucky and y/n much closer

Part one | part two

Masterlist

Y/n hummed, her hands working nimbly as she folded up the last of Bucky's t-shirts. She lifted the pile of clothes and placed them onto the bed, somewhere she knew Bucky would find them to put them away himself.

"Y/n?" His unusually chipper voice sounded from behind the girl.

"Yeah, Bucky?" Y/n sighed, turning around with her hands on her hips to face Bucky, who had his pleading face on. It had been nearly three months since the first night Bucky stayed with her, and they hadn't slept in different beds since.

Bucky and y/n had taken to running the compound until the remaining members of the team decided what they were going to do with it. So far, they'd cleaned the place top-to-bottom almost weekly and Bucky had even learnt to cook.

"Can you cut my hair?" Bucky's voice was soft, his eyes alight with hope. Y/n scoffed.

"You trust me to do it?" She frowned, reaching up and ruffling the man's shoulder-length locks, that were still wet from his shower. Bucky chuckled and y/n faltered for a second, before her small smile was resumed. It was a sound that she'd seldom heard since the incident with Steve, and it still caught her off guard every time it happened.

Fuck, Steve. Y/n didn't quite know how she should feel about him. Angry? Sad? Guilty for holding him back? Hurt? Betrayed? She shook off the thoughts quickly and refocused on Bucky, who was now stood in front of her with scissors outstretched from his hand.

Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes before snatching the metal from him and making her way into their bathroom. Well, it was Bucky's bathroom, but as they shared his room now, she liked to call it theirs. She used to share a room with Steve, and going back into it was too painful for her after she found out what he did.

Y/n pulled out the stool that Bucky usually sat on whilst shaving - the man was secretly such a drama queen and straight up refused to stand long enough to shave - and Bucky follow closely behind her. He got comfy on the stood, his cerulean eyes piercing y/n's through the slightly foggy mirror.

"Okay, Bucky. If I mess this up, it's on you." Y/n sighed, running her fingers through his hair whilst deciding where to start. Y/n cursed herself, the girl finding it increasingly harder to not admire the super soldier she was living with. Sure, she always knew that he was attractive - she wasn't blind. But y/n hadn't ever taken a second look at his personality and hadn't needed to, either; she'd always thought Steve would be it for her.

But now, after him taking care of her for months, y/n was starting to fall more and more. She wanted to hate herself for it, she really did. But she couldn't. Steve had done much worse, so why should she feel guilty about harbouring a small crush on his best friend? It's not like he was coming back, anyway.

"There we go, all done." Y/n announced, placing the scissors on the counter with a clang before fluffing his much shorter hair with her fingers. Bucky smiled at her through the mirror as she tilted his head from side to side so he could get a look.

"It's not bad." The soldier smirked, reaching up and carding his own fingers through the pillowy brown locks.

"Not bad? I think it's a damn masterpiece, Barnes." Y/n retorted and Bucky couldn't help his grin. He loved seeing her like this - carefree and happy again. Bucky would never forgive Steve for what he did to her. The resentment he felt towards his former best friend only grew as his feelings for y/n did, too. He'd always felt an attraction to y/n; she had a warm smile, a great sense of humour, was extremely smart and not even to mention incredibly beautiful.

"You're right, doll. I'm sorry." Bucky admitted, turning around and standing up before her. Y/n took a shaky breath, suddenly much too close to Bucky for what could be considered friendly. Bucky breathed out, slow and controlled as his hand raises to cup y/n's cheek.

"Do you like it?" Y/n whispered, eyes unable to leave Bucky's as she ran her fingers through his now much shorter, fluffy locks. Bucky nodded, his head dipping down to meet y/n's lips in a kiss.

Y/n moaned against his mouth, fingers tangling into Bucky's hair as his metal arm slipped around her waist. He pulled her flush against him, their hips starting to grind slightly as the kiss became more and more heated.

"Is this okay?" Bucky mumbled against her lips as he walked her backwards, y/n making a little oomph sound as her back collided with the bathroom wall. She nodded before quickly returning her lips to his, hands trailing over his body until they reached the hem of his shirt.

After she gave it a little tug, Bucky got the idea. He pulled away long enough to get the shirt over his head before his lips were latching onto y/n's jaw. He began to kiss down y/n's body, his lips barely dancing over her navel before y/n was pulling Bucky back up to face her.

"We can do that later, I just need you inside me." Bucky nodded, hands grasping at her shirt until it was torn over her head. He hastily unbuttoned her jeans, y/n kicking them off once they were far enough down her legs. She toed her socks off whilst fumbling with Bucky's belt, pulling the leather from its loops before letting his jeans and boxers pool at his feet.

Stepping out of them, Bucky finally discarded the last of y/n clothes before hooking his hands under her thighs. Y/n let out a short, high squeal as he lifted her from the ground, his hips pinning her to the wall as he braced a hand next to her head.

Bucky moaned when his tip ran through her wetness, hand wrapping around his length as he lined himself up with y/n's core. Bucky leant in, pecking y/n's lips once, twice, three times.

"Ready?" He mumbled and y/n moaned his name when he sheathed himself inside of her in one, slow thrust.

"Fuck, Bucky!" Y/n moaned, head dropping forward to rest on Bucky's shoulder as he let his thumb rest on her clit, teasing circles rubbed over it making the coil in y/n’s stomach tighten already, blue eyes now turned black as he looked into hers.

"I want you to come around my cock, pretty girl." He murmured, lips at her ear as he slowly pulled out to the top, cock dragging deliciously against her walls. Y/n's hands clung to his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin only spurring Bucky on as his pace became slow but strong, knocking the air out of y/n's lungs with every thrust.

Y/n's fingers traced over the scars littering his shoulder, before clinging to the cool metal and moaning out at the contrast of cold against her flushed and hot skin.

"Good girl." Bucky moaned, the praise sending an unexpected wave of wetness tumbling down to y/n's core, his cock pushing in and out of her almost effortlessly now with how wet she'd become.

"I'm gonna come so hard, doll.." He mumbled into the skin of her neck, dropping his head to nip and suck at y/n's jaw line. Y/n knew there'd be marks there tomorrow, but she couldn't care less in that moment as her walls began to clamp down on him in a vice grip.

"C'mon, cum for me. I can feel how close you are." Bucky moaned and y/n's mouth dropped open into a silent scream against his flesh shoulder, eyes rolling back into her skull. Bucky's pace picked up as he tried to push y/n to her release before he hit his.

When y/n came it was a sudden, the coil snapping and opening the flood gates. Y/n's hips were bucking, stomach tight and legs shaking around Bucky's waist.

"There we go, good girl." Bucky groaned, chasing his own release now. "Shit, y/n." He moaned, stilling his hips as a final thrust sent him over the edge, cumming in y/n in hot spurts.

Their heavy breaths mingled, the smell of sex filling the bathroom as y/n panted against Bucky's shoulder; his own breaths were laboured.

It was a few hours later that y/n found herself in a familiar place - tangled up in Bucky's sheets while the super soldier laid beside her. The only differences now were that they were both still naked, and y/n was practically sprawled over the super soldier's chest.

She was humming, fingers tracing little circles over his bare chest as Bucky's soothing hand ran over her thigh.

"This wasn't just...a one time thing, was it?" Y/n was almost stunned with how weak Bucky's voice sounded, as if he was scared her answer would be wrong.

"I don't want it to be. I want you, Bucky. If you'll have me, that is." She grinned, lip tucked between her teeth as she stared at the soldier. Bucky couldn't contain his own smile as he gazed lovingly at her, his knuckles caressing her cheekbone softly.

"Of course I want you. I just didn't know if it would be..."

"Awkward? Appropriate? Look, I know you and Steve were close, inseparably so, but don't worry about me and him. He hurt us, remember. If he's happy, we deserve to be too." Y/n murmured, eyes twinkling as she took in Bucky's face.

"Are you? Happy, I mean." Bucky asked. She leant forwards, placing a small peck to his lips, before doing it again and again. She giggled between each kiss, hands now flat on Bucky's chest as he squeezed her thigh gently.

"I'm happy." She mumbled between kisses, "are you?"

"As happy as I've ever been. Now come here and let me kiss you properly." Bucky whispers against her lips, his hand curling around the back of her neck before his lips were pressed to hers in a passionate kiss.

It was then that Bucky realised that he'd made a selfish choice. And he didn't regret it one bit.

Because Bucky Barnes was a selfish man.

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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years

Text

Garage AU - 'nother time - Part 4

So, here's my last part for this lovely AU.

Please...Do read the other parts :D

@middleearthpixie Durin’s Garage AU- Good Trouble (Modern!Dwalin x reader)

@laurfilijames - Durin's Garage (Modern!Fili x reader) Part 1 Part 2

@i-did-not-mean-to - ‘Nother Time (Modern!Ori x reader) Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

@fandomfaeryreads (Modern!Kili x reader) - Garages and Gazes - Part 1

@blairsanne (Modern!Bofur x reader) - Homecoming

@middleearthpixie The Chance You Take (Modern!Thorin x Reader) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Fandom: Modern!AU Hobbit

Characters: Modern!Ori x Reader

Words: 4,9k

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, unprotected sex, cross-dressing

“Ori, there’s a car outside your door and it’s…” Thorin relapsed into silence before going: “Oh, we’ve wondered if you’d come back.”

“I suppose you’re not here for the free tire change?” He cocked an eyebrow at me, taking in the flushed cheeks and the kiss-bruised lips with a sly grin that made his eyes sparkle like that stupid stone Rose had thrown into the ocean like an idiot.

“I…no,” I stammered, trying to twist the skirt of my business suit down again, but it was an irredeemable mess of wrinkly fabric at this point, so I just let it be.

“I’ve locked up,” Thorin grinned and dropped my car keys into a neat little bowl by the door, winking at me and adding: “I guess we all have better things to do tonight. I’m glad your car seems to be working perfectly fine, Y/N, for we really have more than enough work as it is.”

If you spend your time seducing women instead of fixing cars that does not come as a big surprise, I thought, amused by his words.

“I took the liberty of parking it into an actual spot, otherwise neighbours and kinsmen will wonder if Ori has had a terrible accident, and I doubt you want Kí to show up here?”

Thorin looked all too smug still, but with a small wave of his massive hand, he turned to the door and said, without facing me: “I’m glad you came back.”

And then he was gone as quickly as he had appeared.

“What does he mean?” I asked, cocking my head to the side, and looking at Ori who was bright red.

“I might have been just a tad mopey since you’ve left?” he admitted with a small chuckle, twiddling his thumbs, and looking past me at the closed front door.

“Is that so? Tell me about it,” I grinned, tracing the line of his tense jaw with my index as I stepped up to him again, eager to breathe in his sweet smell and feel the heat radiating from his body.

“It was not the sex,” he started, his eyes fluttering shut, “even though that was quite amazing…it…I guess I felt a bit lonely? Robbed? Like I had a perfect thing in the palm of my hand, and I just watched you go…”

“I was at work every day since then, but it took you almost a week to call?” I commented pointedly as my body melted onto his.

“I was not sure you…well, you left? I thought…maybe…you’d call?” he sounded deeply humiliated now.

“Yes…” I nodded slowly, “I should have, I might have, I wanted to…but what was I to say? Hey, here’s the crazy lady who doesn’t really know how to drive and who fucked the secretary out of the blue, destroyed the records, and then took off in a blind panic?”

“How about ‘Hey, it’s Y/N and I am not disgusted by the idea of seeing you again’? I would have come to the city, you know?” A tiny smile flitted over his beautiful face as he clasped his hands behind my back and leaned his forehead against mine.

“I am very obviously not disgusted by the idea of seeing you again,” I groaned. Wasn’t I here? Hadn’t I rushed along empty roads to eat cold pizza in bed with him? Had I not been dry-humping him like my life depended on it only moments earlier?

His lips on mine felt familiar and warm as if I had known him all my life, as if we were meant to be somehow, and – in an instant – all the fear and the stress fell from my shoulders like rocks tumbling down a precipice.

“Did you think of us?” he asked, his eyes burning with intensity now.

“All the time! How drab and ugly the people in the city are compared to you, how bland the food tastes, how cold my bed is,” I sighed, “How can one miss what one has barely even grazed the surface of?”

“We were worried…we can be a handful, God knows, but…I can do better, I swear,” he promised in a low, vibrating voice, “Kí will stay home and be as quiet as a mouse, Thorin is not always that imperious, and Bofur is not always that intrusive. We can…change.”

His tune had changed from ‘come back’ to ‘stay’; such a dangerous, insidiously seductive plea it was.

“I don’t want you to change though, Ori, I want you to be just who and what you are. You’re perfect,” I mumbled, unable to shake the feeling that I had fallen into a fairy tale again; his skin was warm and fragrant under my searching fingers and my wandering lips as he steered me to that bedroom I had wished I had woken up in every morning since the one when I actually had.

“You were meant to end up here,” he sighed, peeling the layers of my well-groomed masquerade of propriety off to lay bare the garter belt and the silk underwear that spoke of a darker need and impulses so devious they put the surface layer to shame.

“You were meant for me, God, you were made for me,” he went on, his body – still fully clothed – feeling like the missing puzzle piece.

“Thorin speaks a lot of keys; he’s a sucker for that kind of thing, and Fíli is adamant about the right fuel for every single engine…and for the first time, I do believe them.”

And I understood what he meant; everything about him complemented my soul, my body, my essence perfectly.

“Do you want me to heat up the pizza? Are you hungry?” he asked, even though his hands were resting on my naked flesh, effectively igniting tiny knots of fire deep within my blood.

“No, it has time,” I breathed, “and I have not. God, get out of these clothes, I am begging you.”

I watched as the secretary, the well-adjusted, slightly shy, definitely upstanding persona, plummeted to the ground along with the garments that brought him to life and the naked, shivering soul gleaming through paper-skin was revealed.

Would I ever grow tired of this spectacle that made the Northern lights and the great waterfalls of this world seem like garish Country Club golf course decorations?

I would not.

As beautiful as he was, he seemed realer than anyone I had ever met before; there was a long, pale scar running along his forearm that looked like an open fracture having been mended and his gait had a slight limp now due to a serious hematoma on his foot.

Most probably, he had been a skinny, angular boy who had grown into a pale, almost mystical fairy without wings.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” I sighed, my hands lifting as of their own will to touch that silken skin on which a thousand small stories were written in invisible ink.

“Am I? I’ve not been under the impression that I tempt women all too much,” he laughed, melting into my caress eagerly.

“I have not thought of much else since…since seeing you for the first time,” I admitted, brushing my lips over the fragrant curve of his neck slowly and feeling him shiver.

“Do you go to work like this?” he asked in a breathless voice, pointing at my underwear accusingly.

“I do; my workplace is nothing like yours. It doesn’t smell like sex; it’s just an office with a secretary quite unlike you,” I hummed.

“And here I was thinking you just went around seducing poor pencil-pushers,” he chuckled, his fingers dancing over the clasp of my bra – matching the silk panties – under which my nipples were already clearly visible, straining towards him like the tiny traitors that they were.

“Oh, I wish. She’s a good, upstanding, completely straight lady,” I grumbled.

“I’m sure Thorin would be delighted to lend you his,” Ori grinned, nipping at the sensitive skin underneath my ear, that white, long-fingered hand curling around my throat carefully, his fingertips scraping along it.

He was playing me like an instrument even though the mewling sounds escaping me were anything but musical; maybe, he was just really bad at it? He certainly looked pleased enough with his own artistry though, so I didn’t worry overmuch.

“Would he? I’d like that,” I sighed, my breath hitching in my throat as his hand slid down from my throat to carefully span around my left breast, that slender thumb rubbing gently over the nub of tangled wires that lay bare. The sparks thus created were enough to set his sweet, little cottage on fire, but he stood – unafraid – while my knees went liquid.

“I’ll convince you yet,” he murmured, steering me gently backwards until my legs hit the edge of the bed and I fell onto it like a sack of potatoes, pulling him along with me in my surprise.

As he collapsed on top of me, mindful not to crush or hurt me, a wave of fragrant warmth hit me and cut off my breath with pure longing and so, I clawed my fingers into his shoulders, trying to pull him even closer.

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, pressing insistent kisses into my shoulder and down my chest, “wake up next to me, quit your job and take one closer to here…”

“I cannot,” I sighed, but as his mouth skimmed along my hip, the idea suddenly didn’t sound so ludicrous anymore.

The wispy hint of silk felt heavy and damp against my legs as it was pulled down only to be instantly replaced by another kind of silk, just as warm and moist, but much more…alive.

“You can,” he hummed as his tongue darted across my writhing flesh leaving gashes of fire smouldering darkly.

It felt as if my body was filled with lava and every single one of his caresses made the thin crust containing the liquid fire crack and break; I felt as if I was flowing, sloshing, oozing around his tender touches.

His ears felt warm against the inside of my thighs as I tensed, every panting, shallow breath I took bringing me closer to that moment where the edge of my pleasure would cut me apart to set my spirit free.

“I’ve dreamed about this, I freely admit that…How I wanted to taste you,” he sighed, one finger trailing along the swollen, pulsating walls of that secret garden where the most torturously exquisite pleasure bloomed into fire and light.

“Please,” I begged as my hips jerked in pursuit of the wet pressure his words had stolen from me.

“Scream for me,” he whispered and dove back, his hands spreading me apart like one should never do to a book, unless one wanted to criminally crack the spine, and propelling me over the edge without warning.

Scream I did, my back arching impossibly and my toes curling into the soft sheets helplessly as I was hurled – blind and deaf – through an abyss of imploding stars and blinding light.

Just as he had that first time, Ori proved himself to be a very considerate partner, anchoring me through the storm and caressing me until my oversensitive flesh couldn’t bear it anymore.

As soon as he withdrew though, the overwhelming need crashed like a wave – having withdrawn for a breath only to return with a vengeance – over me, and I was gasping and begging for him to return to my skin and lips like a drowning woman yearned for air.

“Hush,” he gentled me, “I am right here.”

“Stay with me,” I pleaded in turn, heedless of what my words might mean to him, “closer!”

I was spread out like an Easter lamb on his white sheets, and when he knelt between my legs, gathering them in his hands and pushing into me with the self-evident ease of a man coming home after having been away, a shivering, tremulous sigh left my lips.

“Look at me,” he almost commanded and I could do nothing to escape his piercing gaze as he held my eyes as captive as my legs.

He was glorious; I had never seen anything nearly as perfectly magical as his heated cheeks and the burning passion in his expression as he slammed into me mercilessly, lifting my legs onto his shoulders and alternating between caressing my breasts almost reverently and teasing that aching knot between my legs.

“You were made for me,” he groaned as I tensed around him, the second orgasm washing fast and hot like a summer rain shower over me and turning my muscles to goo within a millisecond.

Oh, I couldn’t deny that nobody had ever made me feel that way. I didn’t even think about the stretchmarks or the fact that the position made me look like a roll of raw dough squished into buns ready to be popped into the oven; all I could think about was how he filled me, how every movement made my toes curl and my eyes cross, how he seemed to fit into every single gaping emptiness that tortured me.

In more than one way, Ori made me feel whole again.

A mechanic he might not have been, but that didn’t keep him from being a repairman in his own right, fixing insecurities and badly healed hurts by tender touches and warm words.

“Stay with me,” he implored again before coming undone around, above, inside of me like an earthquake of beauty, shaking loose the fossilised fragments of my brittle soul.

Again, his hand sought my cheek almost instantly as he melted into my flesh without pulling out; he just lay there, cushioned awkwardly on my chest, breathing small kisses onto the sensitive skin of my temple leisurely while his fingers carded through the hair just above my ear.

I knew not how long we had already lain there, basking in the afterglow of something that exceeded the callous one-night-stand it should have qualified as by far.

“I’ll go and heat up the pizza in just a second,” he promised, slinging his other arm around me, and holding me close as if I could have pulled away from him even if I had wanted to.

A rattling sound came from the hallway, and he groaned.

“I’ve locked the door, I never do,” he grinned and – reluctantly – got up to check who it was and to put the pizza into the oven.

Slipping into a pair of sweatpants, he walked away.

It took me 5 seconds to grab my panties and his sweatshirt and to follow him on tiptoes.

“No, Kí, I cannot now. Ask Thorin,” I heard Ori say.

“What is it?” I asked, coming up behind him and hugging his naked torso from behind, sending a distinctive shiver down his spine.

“Kí says he wants to borrow a car, but I think he’s just bored or nervous and wants to annoy someone,” Ori explained with a grin.

“You’re the only one who has not told me that he’d kill me,” Kíli grinned cheekily.

“There you go,” I laughed and handed him my keys, “You can take my car if you really need one. I’ll be going into work late tomorrow anyway.”

I had decided that just now; I’d grant myself a half-day off – between the sheets if possible – in the countryside, I deserved that.

“Oh, thanks Y/N…Do you like it here?” Kí leaned against the doorframe as if he was really looking for a chat.

“I’ve come back, haven’t I?” I laughed, settling my chin on Ori’ shoulder and hugging him closer as he was shielding me from the cold air blowing in.

“Will you…would you stay here? It’s an okay town and Ori is in love with you?”

I froze.

“He’s not; he doesn’t even know me,” I was quick to dispel the idea and the surge of inane hope within my heart.

“He knows you plenty…and when you know, you know…You get me?” Kíli grinned cheekily, “He gave you his ugly sweater and he’s been talking about you non-stop without ever saying your name.”

I waited to see if the man in my arms would deny that, but he didn’t.

I imagined that he was glaring something fierce at his cousin, but he did not call him a liar or a mouthy brat.

“You’re not helping the cause here,” Ori muttered when nobody had expected him to say anything anymore.

“Thorin was already here earlier! How does that look?” he went on in a huff.

“It looks like you’re all very close?” I hummed into his ear, scratching my nails gently along his naked stomach.

“We are…Cuz, you’re too quiet! If you let her go again, nobody will have pity on you anymore,” Kíli lectured him with me standing right there, hearing every single syllable.

“Good night, Kí,” Ori sighed and just closed the door in the other man’s face.

“Sorry about him, he means well,” he said, “I’m sure Fí has sent a message already as well. As I’ve said, I’m not good with women in general and…I like you, I really do, which makes me all the clumsier and less probable to say the right thing.”

Did he know that this was exactly the right thing to say?

Judging by the way he tried to wipe the tired expression off his face, I guessed not.

Before I could reply, he had padded – barefoot and bare-chested – into the kitchen and turned on the oven; standing in the hallway still, my attention was focused on a candid snapshot featuring him, Fíli and Kíli sitting at a small table in front of some pub or other.

It was late autumn already now, but in the picture, they were bathed in sunlight; rolled-up sleeves and shades all around. My heart cramped with a sudden twinge of deep and unexpected longing.

They were beautiful, but that was nothing new, they always were…they looked happier though than I had ever really seen them, and it came as an astonishing realisation to me that a part of me wanted to see them that carefree and relaxed.

“Ah, yes, we took a small trip,” Ori explained just beside me, and I flinched for I had not heard him come back.

My gaze turned on him hungrily, an avid desire to commit every single movement and line to memory flooding my mind as I realised that I might never get to see him in the sunlight, that there was a strong probability that I’d never have the chance to kiss him by the sea or to clench my thighs in tempestuous desire upon seeing his pale forearms or his knobby knees bared for the golden kisses of those healing rays.

“You want it?” he asked and took the picture of the wall and handed it to me with a smile.

Oh, how my fingers trembled as they closed around the glossy paper at the very edge.

More mementos to remind me that my home was devoid of cousins barging in and of laughter, that there was but the dusty, shallow heat of the radiator instead of the fragrant, living, moving warmth of another body, that I was utterly alone in this world.

I’d remember him though. I’d picture him in an ugly Christmas sweater, surrounded by his family and friends, laughing while the mulled wine drove a charming blush into his cheeks. I’d imagine the surface changing with the seasons while that golden heart would be ever the same: sweet and indulgent, eager to please, and dutybound at all times. I’d remember…and I’d miss him.

The last five days had been but a dark promise, a bitter taste, of the agony to come.

“My clothes look better on you than on me,” Ori muttered and went back to the room to shimmy into my crumpled skirt and blazer, modelling them for me in a ludicrously sexy imitation of a fashion show. Gone were the ugly sweatpants; I could clearly see his long, slim legs and I couldn’t help dying to get my hands on them.

There was something dangerously intoxicating in feeling the silk lining of my own garment brush against the back of my hand while my palm made contact with flesh so unlike my own.

Crowding him against the wall, I pushed his legs as far apart as my skirt would allow it and nibbled hungrily on the skin of his throat while my hand was still rummaging down there, and Ori did humour me by letting his head fall back against the solid wall with a small banging noise.

“Is this your secretary fantasy?” he teased, batting his dark lashes over huge, inky eyes at me in mock innocence.

If only he knew, I thought, feeling the moist heat grow sticky between my legs while he squirmed under the not so gentle caresses I lavished on the parts of him bulging the fine fabric indecently.

“Gotta turn the oven off again, boss,” he grinned and – swinging his hips and winking at me over his shoulder – he went to do just that.

Within three quick steps, I was upon him, tearing the blazer from his shoulders and sinking my teeth into his flesh harder than I had intended to, but his eyes were dark and challenging as he turned around and grabbed the hem of my skirt to inch it up ever so slowly.

I had never met a man who gave into roleplay and the mere idea of accepting to appear even the slightest bit feminine so willingly and fearlessly and I would have lied if I had claimed that it did not unlock a dark and voracious desire in me.

Hopping onto the kitchen table, Ori spread his legs further, settling his feet on the chairs standing around it, and allowing me a view I would not forget until the day I died.

“I can drop a pencil if that’s where your mind goes,” he started, but I crashed into him, slamming him flat onto the table and crawling up over him, my head grazing the light fixture swinging wildly overhead.

Gathering the skirt carelessly and pulling it up, I but shoved my own underwear aside before plunging down on him eagerly with an almost victorious cry of relief.

A chair fell as he pushed against it, but the clatter died off unheard and unheeded as I rocked on my aching knees, as if riding for my life with the devil himself in hot pursuit.

His hands slid up under the formless sweater, teasing the buds of my nipples into full bloom, while his ass made squeaking noises against the polished wood of his kitchen table.

Hunger such as I had never known before burned through me, purging the doubt and the fear, and left me clean and purified as my eyes closed in wordless delight.

Had I seen myself, fucking a man wearing my own skirt on his kitchen table, I might have laughed, but God, he felt so good and the fact that I wanted him again after so short a cool-down phase must have been indicative of something.

In an unexpected turn of events, he rose up, pressing me into the table by the shoulders in a surprisingly graceful spin and – before I could protest – he was standing in front of the piece of furniture, thrusting into me deep enough to make me scream.

The feeling of the linen-blend against my legs, the smile on his face as I looked at him barely able to form a coherent thought, and the pressure of his rhythmic thrusts all made my mind to blank and when his hands closed around my breasts once more, I bucked as if in the throes of a seizure, pulling him with me into the abyss.

This was absurd.

I was sitting, butt-naked, on his couch eating pizza while a rerun of an old show flickered over the TV with the sound turned down.

“Do you like the pizza?” Ori asked, sitting – just as naked – beside me and handing me a napkin.

Truth be told, the middle part was still cold, but yes, it was the best pizza I had ever eaten.

I could only hum my agreement as I didn’t trust my voice; were there no barriers of intimacy that this man would not break as if they were mere shadow walls?

Having sex with someone in their office was something not completely unheard of in the corporate world, but to fuck them in their own kitchen while they were wearing my clothes? To sit naked and unashamed with them on their couch?

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come back,” he laughed, relaxed, sprinkled in gold and crumbs when I merely nodded. Was it only me or did every woman find it weirdly touching to be allowed to see a man’s penis flaccid and warm, nestled in its thicket of pubes like a bird, and did we all feel our heart seize with tenderness when confronted with that much fragility?

This was some couple-level shit, and I didn’t know if I was ready to admit that I felt comfortable and happy despite being startled by how easy this had been. I wanted time to stop just to look at him until my eyes turned to stone and my body to dust.

“Me too,” I confessed, breathing in the scent of his home, of his skin, of his being.

“You’ve yet to meet Dwalin, he’s…I’d like to say ‘a hoot’ but he really is…not,” Ori babbled joyfully, “and Fí is with his girlfriend tonight, but I’m sure he’d love to see you again.”

“I’m sure Fíli doesn’t even remember me,” I protested, shaking my head, but his hand came to rest on top of mine gently as he assured me that they all remembered me just fine.

“It’s not the city for sure, but it’s a nice town. Kí has taken off with your car for real; I guess you’re stuck with me,” he said, moving to the window and peering out.

The fact that he was unashamed to look out of his window while completely naked astonished and amused me; I wore make-up to empty my letterbox. My whole life felt like a bloody ordeal compared to his, I had to admit.

“I guess I don’t mind that,” I smiled.

He came back, took away the empty plates, and wrapped his arms around my naked waist as he slid behind me.

“Let’s go to bed then, I can lend you a book or I could read to you?” he proposed, and I agreed.

I woke up tangled up in his limbs, his warmth like a second blanket covering my soul rather than my body, and my eyes fell on the empty wineglasses next to my head.

Drinking wine in bed while he read to me, my fingers drawing lazy circles on his skin, his tender smile as he kissed my brow and turned off the light, another slew of memories that would rattle around in my head like loose screws if I was to leave.

Getting up, I turned on his coffee machine and looked out of the window only to discover a huge man, his bald pate covered in tattoos, waving sheepishly at me.

I opened the kitchen window and waited.

“Hyah! ‘m Dwalin, ye’re Ori’s girl, huh? Is he in?” the man asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, come in, I’m just making coffee,” I invited and nodded into the direction of the front door.

“Ori? Dwalin is here,” I padded back into the room and shook him gently.

“LAD!?! Kí brought back a car that isn’t his,” Dwalin roared outside the bedroom as if we were deaf and didn’t know about it.

“Shut up, Dwalin! What do you want?” Ori stepped into his boxers and left the room, taking my hand as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Eh, someone’s gotta open the garage, na?” Dwalin took the cup I handed him and grinned. He looked like he had had a rough night himself, but he seemed – as per usual around here – rather pleased with himself.

A glance at the clock on the oven told me that the best mechanics within an impressive radius were collectively late for work, which – in itself – was hilarious, but…so was I.

“I’ll be heading home for a half-day of work as well,” I smiled, breathing a light kiss onto Ori’s cheek, but – immediately – his hand wrapped around my wrist inexorably, tugging slightly until I was back in his arms.

“Is that it?” he asked, hurt vibrating in his voice and radiating from his dark eyes.

“Boy, we’re both terribly late for work…that’s what wine in bed does for you,” I sighed, slipping into my shoes while still wearing his sweatshirt and not much else. “I’ll call you later if I don’t have to work non-stop. Otherwise, I’ll see you tonight?”

His eyes grew round while Dwalin whistled through his teeth quietly.

“Tonight?” Ori asked, breathless, a thousand thoughts and emotions brimming in his eyes.

“Hmmm, tonight. I’ve got to run, but…tonight?” I let him pull me into a crushing embrace, his lips diving to capture mine in a passionate kiss that tasted like coffee and sleep.

“Yes, a thousand times yes, tonight…” he replied against my mouth and the smile that blossomed on his face made the monster commute worth it – just as expected.

-> Interlude

#the hobbit #fanfiction #ori #ori the dwarf #modern!ori #modern au #garage au #more garage au #durin’s garage #coming back #destiny #love this AU #a whole universe #so good #i am honoured to have been a part of this

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wolfwarden · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Day 24 - Self-induced Injuries to Escape

Word count: 3,713 Fandom: Linked Universe Characters: Sky & Hyrule Warnings: Violence, Blood -Ao3 link- For 'Just Bonesy'

The smell hits Sky all at once, the scent of wet decay and rotting meat forcing its way up his nostrils. He opens his mouth and fights not to gag but the rank fumes instead coat the back of his throat.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Hyrule says beside him, nose wrinkling slightly.

They share a glance and quietly ready weapons, quickening their pace down the dim, decrepit hallway. There is only one way forward. Crumbling stone and wooden beams have blocked their every attempt to reunite with the others, and Sky is tired of being trapped down here.

His and Hyrule’s footsteps echo too loudly in the enclosed space. The weak light of sputtering torches causes him to stumble over stone littering the path.

A hazy pinkish glow fills the air ahead and Sky has one brief hope of seeing an opening in the stone and the glow of a setting sun. Wild’s Hyrule has such lovely sunsets. It would make the unfortunate occurrence of being trapped in the bowels of Wild’s royal castle a bit more bearable.

They turn a corner and skid to a stop. They do not see a sunset. They see a wall of pulsing, bulbous purple and black. It heaves in and out like it’s breathing.

They slowly approach the congealed mass. It stretches from floor to ceiling, sticky ropes of it stretched out to criss-cross above them, like a spider web grown bloated and viscous.

“What is this?” Sky wonders aloud. The strength of the stench makes his eyes water.

Hyrule is already pacing back and forth. His eyes flick over the slime, tracing the edges where it meets the stone wall.

Sky wishes Hyrule weren’t leaning so far over the stuff. There’s something sentient here. He can feel it. Deep and ancient, it’s soaked into the very stones of this place. It picks at Sky’s soul, squirms against his mind, and whispers that he should not be here. Only those who revel in destruction are welcome in this place.

“Ah! I think Wild mentioned this stuff!” Hyrule says. “The uh, what was it… Malice!”

Sky’s skin crawls. An apt name, he thinks.

Hyrule drums his fingers against his legs. “Now, how to get through it?”

“I don’t suppose there’s another way around?” Sky says.

Hyrule frowns. “There’s no way out behind us. I suppose we could bomb the walls?”

They both eye the narrow corridor around them.

“Nope.” Hyrule shakes his head. “We’re too enclosed for the blast size we’d need.”

“Not to mention we might collapse another floor.” Sky indicates the decaying boards and stonework above them. “Or the ceiling.”

“Right. Wild said it was pretty indestructible otherwise. You just gotta shoot the eye. The big yellow one.”

Sky tips his head back. “Of course you do.” He looks the Malice up and down. It bubbles and hisses, almost as if it senses the two heroes nearby.

Hyrule hums. “The problem is I don’t see the eye.”

“The problem,” Sky says dryly, “is that this blob is sentient enough to have an eye in the first place.”

That gets a snort out of Hyrule. “Must be on the other side, then.”

“So we’re trapped.” Trapped underground. Sky takes a deep breath to fight down a tendril of panic. Regret floods him as he chokes on the fresh inhalation of refuse. “How are you breathing this stuff?”

Hyrule smiles. “Used to it, I guess? Poisoned rivers in my Hyrule, and all.”

Sky hates the implication that Hyrule is simply used to a decaying world, but what can he do? He thinks of the clear waters of Skyloft, tumbling out into the endlessly blue sky, the air as sharp and pure as the Master Sword herself. He hopes his friend will get to see it one day. Right now he’d give anything for a glimpse of Skyloft. He’d even take the foreboding sky above Wild’s castle. He’d take the barest scrap of any sky at all.

What he has is a wall of pulsing black, trapping him in the dim purple glow of manifested hatred.

“I think I could make it through.” Hyrule’s soft voice breaks into Sky’s thoughts.

“What? Through it?”

“Up there.” Hyrule points toward a gap between ceiling and Malice, where the purple strands stretch and cling sparingly to the ceiling. The gaps are tiny, barely big enough for a mouse.

“Ah. A bit small for you.”

“But perfect for a fairy.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. Best not to touch the stuff, if you can avoid it.”

Hyrule grins, “Yes, mother.”

Sky gives him a flat look.

“Come on, Sky. It’s not like I was gonna wade through the stuff.”

Sky holds the stare.

“It’s a great plan! I shrink down, fly through, get big, and shoot the eye on the other side. Boom! You’re free!”

“Hyrule, repeat after me.”

Hyrule raises an eyebrow.

“I will not wander off.”

A smirk. “I will not wander off.”

“I will not explore the cool dungeon.”

A blooming smile. “I will not explore the incredibly cool dungeon.”

“I will not leave poor Sky behind to check out the shiny thing I saw in the next room. He will be very angry with me. He will not be taking a nap while I’m gone.”

Hyrule’s laughter echoes off the walls. “But what if it’s really really shiny?”

Sky can’t hold his mock stern face any longer and grins back.

Hyrule tosses Sky a wink and is soon encased in a soft white glow. Hyrule’s form shrinks to the size of Sky’s fist before a pair of delicate translucent wings burst from his back. The glow fades and a tiny fairy version of Hyrule zips off toward the gelatinous wall blocking the path. Hyrule buzzes about, weaving tightly around sticky strings of inky purple.

Sky’s stomach clenches at the sight. He tries to hold on to the lightheartedness from a moment ago, but the gnawing dread will not leave.

“Found the hole! I can make it, no problem.” Hyrule’s voice has taken on a squeaky quality in his fairy form. It’s adorable and hilarious in equal measure.

Sky bites his cheek to keep in his laughter and thanks the goddess for Hyrule’s company. Each time he feels drawn toward despair, his friend has pulled him back. And knowing Hyrule, it’s all unconsciously done.

Hyrule sends Sky a quick wave and calls, “Relax! I’ll see you in a bit! Right after I poke an eye out!” before disappearing through the gap.

The soft light is gone, and Sky is alone. He stands, bathed in the sickly glow of Malice, and waits.

Hyrule must be on the other side by now.

Sky forces himself to stand still and not fidget. Everything is fine. He’ll be looking for the eye. ‘Big and yellow,’ he said. Easy to spot.

The Malice heaves in and out, bloating and receding like a putrid living lung. It presses in closer and Sky shudders as the space around him shrinks.

Hyrule should be big by now, right? If the way was blocked he’d come back through. Sky fixes his gaze on the tiny opening near the ceiling. There is no answering white glow. It’s fine. We’re in no rush.

...Was the ceiling always that low?

Shaking that thought away, Sky takes a steadying breath and grimaces. The smell is not something he’s gotten used to yet. Still, he forces himself to breath slowly and evenly, begrudgingly pulling in the noxious fumes.

See? Plenty of air. Plenty of space. You can't see the sun but it's there. It's just on the other side of the wall. ...I think. Breathe, Sky. In and out. Controlled and even.

Back and forth, the Malice echoes.

Sky narrows his eyes. Is it…? His breath stutters to a stop.

The Malice shudders and stills. Then it swells again, matching Sky, heaving in sync with the hero.

Goosebumps pebble across his skin. The air feels warmer than it did a moment ago. Sweat trickles down his temple and Sky tries to recall how big this hallway seemed when Hyrule stood beside him. It was plenty wide before, Hyrule's easy smile and calm manner making the entrapment seem a minor inconvenience. How is it now barely enough for Sky? He could reach the opposite wall in two paces. How much of the air is left? His heart thuds painfully.

“Hyrule?” he calls.

No voice echoes back.

“Hyrule!”

Sky draws his sword, unsure of his next step but equally sure that he can't stay here. He can't. All he can see is stone walls and vile purple and the ceiling is too close. It has to be moving. How many tons of stone are above him right now, pressing down on his little tunnel of dirt and rocks?

“Hyrule, you need to answer me!”

This time a noise filters through the bubbling mass. A low vibrating croak. Scuttling claws on stonework.

Lizalfos. He can’t tell the number, can’t see how dangerous the threat is, but he knows Hyrule is an experienced hero. He can trust Hyrule to take care of himself. All Sky has to do is wait behind these walls. He can do that. He tries to calm the jittering of his heart.

“Come on.” He mutters. He glares at the Malice. Any second and it will dissipate. Hyrule will find the eye. He’ll-

Sky hears the sharp crackle of electricity. A scream rings out.

“Hyrule!” Sky unconsciously steps forward only for his boot to plunge into noxious sludge. He wobbles, off-balance as the Malice jerks beneath him, dropping him to one knee. The tar-like substance clings, cold and sticky, soaking into his trousers. Then pain lashes into his skin like a thousand tiny teeth simultaneously biting deep. He yelps and lurches to his feet. As he stumbles back, the pain fades slowly, leaving an uncomfortable prickling behind.

Something heavy crumbles and falls beyond the wall of Malice.

Sky paces, unable to hold still. Was that Hyrule or the lizalfos? He doesn’t know. It’s impossible to know anything while trapped behind this bubbling mass of tar. He can’t tell if the lizalfos is dead. He doesn’t know if Hyrule is injured. Or trapped. Was that the ceiling collapsing? Oh goddess, what if Hyrule was buried alive? Sky’s barely contained panic bursts free in his chest. How long did he have before Hyrule was smothered?

Stop it. You don’t know that. The only thing you can do is wait. Sky thinks he might throw up. He squeezes the hilt of his sword, missing Fi’s comforting chime. He breathes in.

The Malice matches him, swelling forward, almost touching the tip of his boot.

He recalls the bite of pain and breathes out shakily.

The Malice recedes with a wet shudder, laughing at him.

There is nothing to do but wait, Sky repeats. I trust Hyrule. He gives the Master Sword a quick looping swing, testing his grip. Fi, as usual, stays silent.

…Or am I leaving him to die?

The thought has slithered deep into his mind, and Sky knows there is no removing it. Not until he can see Hyrule with his own eyes. And what is the next step, but to beg Farore for the courage to reach his friend? He checks the opening Hyrule passed through. It has swelled shut.

No matter. He is done waiting. Sky holds out the Master Sword like a beacon and rushes forward.

His feet hit thick sludge and he’s three steps in before the Malice seeps over the edges of his boots, slipping inside the protective leather, and soaking through fabric. Imaginary fangs lacerate his skin but he pushes on. Just get through! It’ll be over in a minute.

The Malice is nearly waist high when he reaches the wall. He grits his teeth as the pain digs in deeper, twisting into his legs and sinking into flesh. Sky risks a glance down. No blood. No open wounds, but by the goddess, he feels the phantom teeth scrape against bone.

Keep moving!

The Master Sword is held in front of him, his ever-steady friend guiding the way. He plunges her toward the pulsing wall of inky purple. Malice reels back from the sword, frothing and smoking as she makes contact. The sword vanishes into the muck and Malice rushes forward, wrapping around Sky’s hand and sliding up his arm. The icy sting of pain makes him cry out, but there is no going back now. Fi is leading the way, and Sky will follow.

One deep breath, then he throws himself forward, allowing the Malice to take him.

It greedily encases him, cold slime rushing to cover every inch of exposed skin. It soaks into him, tearing open his skin, peeling back muscle, clamping down on bone until it cracks.

Sky writhes in its frigid hold, eyes clamped shut. He tries to keep pressing forward. There is freedom only a few feet ahead, he knows it. He drags one leg forward, forcing his way through viscous slime. The Malice presses in through his clothes, slithering through the gaps of his chainmail until it finds fresh skin to assault. Icy claws rip at his chest and Sky clamps his lips down harder, a scream climbing up his throat.

Keep moving.

Malice envelopes him like a chrysalis. It fills his ears, fits into the seam of his mouth, and floods his nose. The vile smell of rotting carcasses is inescapable and Sky’s stomach roils in response.

His feet step down on knives. His arms sweep over ragged metal. He wades through a sea of needle-sharp spikes where all sense of direction is lost.

Keep moving.

Is he moving forward? For all he knows, he is floundering in darkness. He is cut into little pieces and there’s no telling how much of him will be left. The world is so cold. He needs to breathe. He’s going to drown in a frozen sea of swords.

His muscles spasm, but his grip on the Master Sword holds steady. He can’t see, can’t breathe, but he holds onto the hope that Fi will not abandon him now. He pushes after her, his way made slick by the flow of blood around him. Malice pulses, cutting in and out of his chest, a cruel mockery of the breath he so desperately wants to take.

Air hits his face in a rush as he bursts through the other side.

His mouth rips open in a sobbing gasp, Malice dripping from his lips. A vile taste explodes on his tongue and he retches. His left eye erupts in pain as Malice slices into his eyelid. He screams, fingers blindly clawing at the sticky mess on his face. Knees hit the floor with a squelch. Everything aches and burns and he knows there can’t be much of him left. The Malice behind him will be flooded with blood and flesh, pieces of him cut away as he flayed himself open through the blades hidden in the pulsing wall.

He crawls forward, biting back whimpers as he drags leaden legs through the final streaks of purple. He can’t feel his feet anymore. Oh, goddess, how much is left?

Sky blinks away the last of the gunk, left eye weeping liquid, eyelashes pulling at residual stickiness, and looks down.

He… he’s fine. He’s covered in Malice, stubborn trails of it still clinging to him, but there is no blood. Not a single wound on him.

H-how?

He’d felt it. He can still feel it. The way his body was cut away in careful sections, the icy cold doing nothing to numb the pain.

Sky rocks back and forth on the ground, unable to deny the urge to move and escape from the pain. But he can’t escape. The Malice drips off him slowly, delighting in these last few moments of agony as Sky claws at the tar that has soaked into his clothes. His eye still throbs but at least the rest of the pain has lessened, only needle-sharp stabs that leave him twitching at each jab.

A croaking, inhuman laugh sounds from over his shoulder.

Sky twists around, barely managing to rise to his knees.

A lizalfos watches him, half-crushed beneath a caved-in ceiling. Heavy white stone pins the arms and chest of the monster. But it watches Sky struggle and laughs again.

Rage fills Sky. He’s no stranger to anger but this… It pours into him in a blinding wave. All he’s aware of is the slick taste of bile on his tongue and the wet slap of his soaked glove hitting the floor. How dare this creature lay there and mock me?

Sky drags himself closer to the creature. Its laughter dies. Both bulbous eyes begin rolling erratically.

This monster is insignificant compared to me. I have slain a god! The humiliation of having such a creature laugh at him is too much. Hazy yellow hovers at the edges of his vision.

“Do you have any idea who I am?!” Sky can feel the sticky pull of Malice on his lips. His voice doesn’t sound right.

Sky raises the Master Sword high and she burns. Sky yells as his fingers light up with fresh pain. The sword clatters to the ground.

Fi! He rips off his leather glove and stares at his palm in shock. She burned me. Why? She’s… she’s abandoning me?

Sky’s head throbs. He swallows and his throat burns like it’s been sliced from the inside.

Of course, she is. They all do. They leave me behind because they think I'm weak.

He drops his glove reaches out. Blistered fingers curl around a large chunk of white marble. The lizalfos croaks rapidly in distress.

I hate them!

He heaves the marble above his head. One bulbous eye tracks it up, up, up…

Why can't they just leave me alone? I’m better off alone!

He swings down with all his strength. A wet crunch fills his ears.

I'm tired!

The lizalfos’ back claws scrabble uselessly against the floor.

Did it occur to anyone that I don't want to do this again?

He yanks the stone free and raises it again.

I don't need an audience for every time I’m not good enough!

The marble whistles through the air and thuds into its target.

I just want to stop.

He brings it crashing down again. Warmth splatters his face.

S-Stop.

His arms burn. The marble is slick in his hands. Still, his arms hurtle downward.

No. No, please, let me stop!

Another impact. The monster has long since ceased twitching.

"Stop!" he screams at himself.

His hands feel numb as the stone clatters to the floor, away from the grisly mess at his knees. Arms shaking, he scrambles backward. His throat burns and his cheek feels wet under the eye that still throbs. What did I do? Oh, goddess…

He’s gasping, the harsh sound too loud in his ears. But I stopped, he tries to assure himself. It’s done. It’s over. His limbs shake and air continues to wheeze in and out of his tightening chest. He tries to force his body to calm, willing the iron band around his lungs to loosen. I-I stopped. I made it stop. It’s okay.

His gaze flicks over the surrounding rubble, desperate not to look at the lizalfos carcass. The monster was trapped already. Something happened here to make the ceiling collapse. Or someone-

A soft glow catches his eye.

“Hyrule!”

Sky crawls on hands and knees toward the light, body aching and twitching with each stretch of muscle. Hyrule’s tiny fairy form comes into view. It lies still, crumpled by a cracked wall, fine wings caked in dust. Sky pulls himself close to Hyrule's side. The fairy’s glow is brighter than he remembers, and he fights not to cringe away from the light.

“Hyrule? Hyrule, please wake up.”

The fairy’s chest rises and falls in smooth waves. Sky wants to cry in relief. He should never have let him out of his sight. He left to find… The eye. Big and yellow. Sky jerks his head around, looking back at the wall. Inky blackness looms, stretching up and up and up like a perverse night sky bleeding purple streaks across the world. He searches. Nothing stares back.

The world tilts and he spills over until his forehead meets the ground. His head throbs as the world continues to spin in a lazy whirl. Limbs shaking, he wants nothing more than to curl up and ride out the pain still prickling over his skin. He resists.

“Hey,” he whispers to the fairy, throat still raw. “You’re really okay, right?”

Or course, there is no answer.

He finally gives in to his body’s demands and collapses onto the filthy floor. He curls around the fairy as carefully as he can, shielding it from outside view. “Something… doesn’t feel right with me.” He reaches out with blistered fingers, partially blocking the intense light from his eyes.

He freezes in the illumination. The skin on the back of his hand is mottled black and purple. Not coated in Malice, but stained, the colors etched deep into his flesh.

A voice murmurs in his head. The fairy. He left me behind.

Icy fear slithers around his heart. “N-no. He didn’t. He-”

He abandoned me.

Delicate wings brush against his skin and his mind supplies an image: The tiny creature struggling in his hands, panicked heartbeat thrumming against his fingertips. One squeeze and the spine would snap like a dry twig.

A curl of cold satisfaction wriggles in his gut.

He yanks his hand back, fingernails biting deep into his palm. “I won’t.” His eyes squeeze shut, blocking out the stains on his skin, but he knows. He feels them still.

How dare the fairy leave me behind. It left me to die.

His left eye throbs and burns, a counterpoint to the icy chill frosted over his skin. Something viscous bubbles up from the slit of his closed eye. He blinks, shaking his head, a trail of poisonous yellow dripping over his blotchy skin.

His breath wheezes in and out. Too fast.

The wall of Malice behind him shudders, rapidly swelling and deflating.

They breathe together, like one entity, in perfect sync.

#whumptober2021 #no.24 #Self-induced Injuries to Escape #Linked Universe #fic #lu Sky #lu Hyrule #WolfWarden Writes #Whump #Violence #Blood

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calebdumes · 3 years

Note

so being the captain of your own ship sounds stressful, right? someone should treat Hera to a day of pampering... (surprise romantic spa trip? a sweet homemade experience by the whole crew? you decide!)

keeping the Ghost in shape is hard work! good thing Kanan is a pro in stress relief.

fandom: star wars rebels

relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla

rating: mature

word count: 2.8k

Hera woke with a list of things to do already forming in her mind. The pleasant dreams that had taken her through the nighttime hours had been replaced with tasks that needed to be completed. The Phantom was due for a diagnostic, she needed to finish her modifications to the sublights if she ever wanted to take the Ghost out again, and they were starting to run low on supplies. She breathed out harshly from her nose, somehow she’d have to find time to make a trip into town between her repairs.

And if she was in town, she might as well stop in and give Old Jho a visit. Fighting for the rebellion was good work - important work - but it didn’t pay much and their small purse of credits was slowly dwindling.

With a sigh, Hera blinked open her eyes to the darkness of her cabin. Kanan was a warm weight across her chest as he did his best impersonation of a human blanket. For just a moment, she allowed herself the luxury of imagining a sleepy morning in bed. If only she could close her eyes and let Kanan’s gentle breathing lull her back to sleep, held in place by his comforting weight. What she would give to be woken hours later with his kisses trailing down her neck, across the tops of her breasts, his hands running down her sides as she let his wandering mouth travel lower and lower.

Hera shook the sticky sweet heat from her mind; she had too much to do to let that daydream become a reality. She tried to wiggle out from underneath Kanan but as soon as she began to move, his arms tightened around her.

“No.” he said, his voice muffled by her shoulder.

“I have things to do Kanan.” she whispered, scrubbing her fingers through the long strands of his hair. He shivered but didn’t loosen his grip.

“Too early.” was his response.

“I’ve got a lot to do today, love.”

She felt Kanan’s lips brush against the side of her neck as he replied, “Sleep now. Work later.”

Hera sighed again when it became clear Kanan wasn’t going to move. She managed to free an arm and reached blindly for her datapad on the floor. The blue-ish glow from the screen lit up her face as she rested it on the top of Kanan’s head. If he wasn’t going to let her get up then he couldn’t object to her using his body as a prop for her pad. He didn’t seem bothered by it if his snores were any indication.

She read through the local Holonet, clicking her tongue at the new regulations the Empire was putting on trade in Capital City. It didn’t seem like they were even trying to hide their blatant greed anymore. Either that, or they believed that their grip on Lothal was so tight that no-one would dare speak out against them.

Hera smirked at that thought. Maybe it was time they took a trip to Capital City and livened things up a bit. She would have to get out of bed first.

Kanan slept for another hour until he finally pushed himself up, blinking at her owlishly and his hair a mess from where her fingers had run through it. He smiled at her, warm and soft, before jumping from the cot and throwing on some clothes.

“Stay here for a second.” He told her before slipping from the cabin. Hera rolled her eyes and stood, stretching her arms up over head and feeling her spine pop. She rolled her shoulders and fanned her toes out on the cool durasteel floor. Her lower back twinged a little from her time with the engines yesterday and she knew the dull pain would only get worse after another day of work but, the Ghost wasn’t going to fix itself.

Slowly she began pulling on her day clothes, forgoing her typical flight suit for a dingy pair of grease stained slacks and a thin strapped top - it tended to get hot in the engine room and her flight suit would only make it worse. Just as she was pulling on her head wrap, the door to her cabin opened revealing Ezra and a plate piled high with waffles.

“Mornin’ Hera.” Ezra said, letting himself into her room. “I made breakfast.”

Hera blinked at the stacks of waffles dripping with bright purple syrup, the cloyingly sweet scent assaulting her nose. “I see that. Why?”

“Kanan said so.” There was a loud cough from out in the hallway. Ezra grimaced and shifted on his feet. “Uh, I mean, because I wanted to.”

Hera arched a disbelieving brow. “Uh huh, sure you did. What’s the real reason?”

“Well, Kanan did say so but he had a good point.” he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “You always make sure there’s food for us, we thought we’d make food for you. So,” Ezra waved at the plate of waffles. “Breakfast.”

Hera looked at the waffles and then back at the young teen. It was a sweet sentiment, even if it wasn’t needed - keeping the stores full for her crew was one of her duties as captain but Ezra’s show of appreciation made her heart melt just a little.

“Well thank you kind sir.” She said taking the plate from him.

“Anytime Captain.” Ezra smiled before retreating. Kanan filed into the room moments later.

“So, you told him to do it?”

“I didn’t tell him so much as gently suggested he bring you breakfast.” Kanan said as he flopped down on the bed.

“You know you don’t have to do that.” she sat down next to him.

Kanan took a waffle off of her plate and popped it in his mouth, licking the sugary syrup from his fingers. “I know but we wanted to.” he replied through his mouthful of food. “You do a lot for us, it’s past time we did something for you.”

There was a suspicious look on his face that put Hera on guard. “I know that look.” she said, setting the plate down on the bed. “What do you have planned?”

“A day of rest and relaxation.” he winked.

“Kanan…”

“Hera…” he mimicked.

“I have too much to do, I can’t just do...nothing.”

Kanan stole another waffle. “You wouldn’t be doing nothing, you would be relaxing. Besides, we can handle whatever you need to do.”

“Yeah but-” Hera began but Kanan leaned over and kissed her on the mouth, cutting off her protest. He tasted like Jogans and spice. Hera’s eyes slipped closed as he deepened the kiss, one hand cupping her jaw.

“Let us take care of things today, okay?” He asked as he broke away, resting his forehead against hers. Hera searched his face, drinking in his strange teal eyes. It had been a while since she had taken a day off but there was so much to do, she couldn’t possibly leave it all for her crew. “We can handle it.” Kanan said, as if reading her thoughts. “It’s what you hired me for in the first place, remember?”

Hera rolled her head against his and let her shoulder drop in defeat. “Fine.” she conceded. “But call me if you need any help.”

Kanan kissed her cheek before standing. “We’ll be fine. You just relax.”

“Have Chopper help you with the sublights, he has the schematics. And we need more soap, oh and see if Jho has a job for us or Vizago if necessary.”

“Hera.” Kanan smiled from the doorway. “Relax.” he gave her a jaunty two finger salute before the cabin doors slid shut, leaving Hera alone in her room.

She looked around the cabin suddenly feeling at a loss. What was she going to do now?

A gentle knock on her cabin pulled Hera from her third nap of the day. The holobook she had been reading tumbled to the floor as she sat up stretching. She smiled to herself, the pain in her back was nearly nonexistent and she felt more refreshed than she had in a long, long time. Maybe Kanan was right and she was long overdue for a day off.

It had been hard at first, to let the others do the work she had planned while she did essentially nothing. Her fingers itched to do something, anything other than sitting alone in her room but she didn’t want Kanan to think that she didn’t trust him to take care of her ship. Out of all the beings in the galaxy, Kanan was the only person that she actually did trust. And not just with her ship. So Hera had gotten back under the covers and ate her breakfast in the silence of her cabin.

That hadn’t lasted long, the quiet became too loud so she escaped to the lounge. At least there she could keep an eye on the coming and goings of her crew. Only, the common space had been empty. Ezra and Zeb had gone to town to pick up supplies and Kanan had recruited Sabine to help him with the last of the engine modifications. It was clear she wasn’t going to be allowed to do anything productive so she curled up in the big wooden chair and let her mind drift until she fell asleep.

The rest of the day had passed in a sleepy haze as she meandered from the lounge to her cabin; napping when she felt like it, eating the snacks Kanan had prepared for her, and catching up on the holobooks she had been wanting to read. Once she allowed herself to relax, letting the others handle the work became much easier.

There was another knock on the door, a little more forceful this time, followed by a hesitant voice. “Hera? Are you awake?”

Hera tossed the sheets aside and padded over to the door, hitting the control and smiling as Sabine came into view.

“I’m awake.” She smiled at the young Mandalorian who returned it with a slight tilt of her lips. Her orange and blue hair was slightly mussed and Hera could see a streak of engine grease on her exposed arm but there was a sparkle of accomplishment in the depth of amber eyes. It was the same look Hera got when she finished working on her ship.

“Dinner’s ready if you want to eat.” Sabine said. “I made stew.”

Hera’s stomach rumbled loudly as if on cue. “I could eat.” she chuckled, following the teen down the hallway into the lounge. The rest of her crew was already seated around the beat up holotable, steaming bowls of stew and crusty bread before them. Hera took her seat next to Kanan and inhaled the spicy scent of cooked tip yip and Sabine’s potent blend of spices.

“Don’t worry.” Sabine said. “I didn’t make it as spicy this time.”

“Good.” Ezra breathed in a sigh of relief. “Cus’ I couldn’t taste anything for like a week last time.”

Zeb chuckled, scooping a heaping portion of the stew into his mouth. “You humans don’t know anything about real flavor.”

“And Lasats do?” Sabine challenged, sprinkling a dusting of seasoning over her bowl. “You just grill everything until it’s burnt. At least you can taste more than fire with my food.”

“Not that much more.” Kanan coughed, reaching for his water.

Sabine rolled her eyes and launched into a haughty argument on the nuances and meaning behind Mandalorian cooking. Hera was only partly paying attention, taking small bites of the rich and spicy stew. She could feel the burn of Sabine’s seasoning scorch down her throat, leaving her mouth tingling.

“How did the modifications go?” she asked in a hoarse voice, leaning into Kanan’s side. He smelled like sweat and oil but Hera wasn’t too bothered by it. It felt good to be pressed up against his side after spending the better part of the day alone. She felt the heat from his body seep into her bones, making her insides twist with desire.

“Wonderful.” He responded as he threw an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in, impossibly close. “How did your day off go?”

Hera pressed her lips to his cheek. “Wonderful.” she pitched her voice low so that he would be the only one to hear her say, “But there is one thing that’s missing.”

“Oh yeah?” Kanan smirked, his eyes trailing down her face to land on her lips. “And what’s that?”

Hera placed a hand on his knee, slowly dragging it up his thigh. “You.”

The reaction in Kanan was instant. His face flushed with heat and his pupils grew wide until there was only a small circle of teal left. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear cone and said, “Well, good thing I have something special planned for dessert.”

“I get that you two are like, gross in love or whatever.” Sabine’s voice cracked over Hera like ice, causing her to pull away from Kanan as if she had been shocked and the heat of embarrassment to color her cheeks. “But some of us are still eating so could you save all your gushy feelings until after dinner?”

“That’s the plan.” Kanan winked, unbothered about being called out. Ezra and Sabine both gagged.

Zeb smirked before draining his bowl and pushing up from the table. “I’m taking the kids into town tonight.” He said, walking into the galley. “Jho found us a job.”

“Do you need any back up?” Hera asked, secretly hoping that the Lasat would refuse.

“Nah, we’ve got it handled.” He brought his clawed hands down on Sabine and Ezra’s shoulders and pulled them to their feet. “We’ll let you get to your...night.”

Hera hid her face behind her hands.

“Wait, I’m not done eating!” Ezra complained as Zeb hustled him out of the lounge.

“You can get something at Jho’s.” Sabine countered. “Now let's go before they start making out at the table.”

“We wouldn’t do that!” Kanan yelled to their retreating backs. “At least not with an audience.” he said to her once they were alone.

Hera looked at him through her fingers. “You have no shame do you?”

He shrugged. “Not really.” Hera snorted, that was obvious. She picked up her spoon and dragged it through her stew but her mind was no longer on eating. Instead, she was intimately aware of every point of contact between her and Kanan, little points of starlight pulling her in. Her heart fluttered in her chest, her fingers tightening on Kanan’s thigh. He glanced down at her hand and then back to her face, biting his lower lip.

“C’mon.” Hera said, pushing her bowl away and standing. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, interlacing their fingers as she led him back to the cabin. As soon as the door slid closed, Hera turned and pulled Kanan down into a heated kiss, tasting the spice of the stew on his tongue.

His hands roamed over her body, pulling at the hem of her shirt while she unfastened his pants. Clothing fell to the floor as they made their way to the cot, breathy moans slipping between hurried kisses.

Hera fell back onto the bed as Kanan covered her neck with adoring kisses.

“Was this all part of your plan?” she said, her breath hitching as his thumbs brushed the tops of her hips.

“No actually.” Kanan chuckled, his face flushed. “I was just going to give you the day off. Getting the kids off the Ghost,” he kissed her lips. “Was all Zeb.”

Hera knocked her closed fist gently under his jaw. “Lucky you.” she smirked up at him.

“Lucky me.” he smiled back.

She got a little lost, looking at the love and devotion shining in his eyes. Kanan loved her with no conditions, no expectations - it was pure and sweet and simple and it made Hera feel like she would come apart at the seams from the intensity of it.

He loved her and Hera loved him back just as fiercely. She grabbed hold of his face and pulled him into a crushing kiss, pouring every bit of herself into him.

“I love you.” she whispered, breaking them apart.

Kanan nipped at her lips, “I love you too.” he said and Hera could feel it vibrating in her bones, weaving the promise held in his words right into her very soul. She let him kiss her, feeling his skin against hers until her desire grew to great. Hera pushed on his shoulder and he went willingly, sinking between her legs with a smirk on his face.

As she came undone under his skillful ministrations, Hera thought to herself, maybe she should take the day off more often.

#pretchatta #asks #kanera #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars: rebels #star wars #swr fanfic #mine #shleby writes #swr prompt fills #*pterodactyl screech*

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myheartalivewrites · 5 months

Text

Fic Writing Review 2023

thanks for the tags @kiwiana-writes @stereopticons 💚

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

Words and Fics

New fics on ao3: 12

Words published on ao3: 220,095

BONUS STAT 120,433 UNPUBLISHED words (holy fuck, I went to add this up because I was curious, but I was not prepared for this... No wonder I hate having all these WIPs hanging over my head right now. They are A LOT)

Fandoms: just RWRB

Most recent fic: "Please, I need you to." (also the shortest fic!)

Longest fic: Deep Blue, 76,031 words

Longest one shot: Love and War, 11,430

Top fics by kudos

(WELL, I wanted to do a mix of stats, but Deep Blue is my top fic in all the metrics--and we don't fuck with ratios in this house--so instead I'm doing by kudos)

Deep Blue (well, well, well. I love this baby so much)

Just Like That. (shocking outlier! It started as smutty crack in my mind!)

In His Wildest Dreams (love this with my whole entire heart)

Oxford Days (look here, kids! the things you can achieve with sleep deprivation and crazy hyperfocus!)

Tumbled Down and Tangled Up (with thanks to whoever it was who shared it on twitter that one time and led to me spending one very confused day--nine months after this fic was first published--watching all the ao3 emails coming in like, WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING)

Every single number on this list blows my mind.

Fandom/Fic events

Doing events is a new thing for me this year! I've just finished my @rwrbnygiftexchange fic and am super excited to put it out there (Jan 1st feels so far away!)

And I did a quick thing for Smutsgiving 2023

Just for fun

Most amusing stat: the fact that THIS has more kudos than actual words in it. Love you all 😘

Highest proportion of private bookmarks: just edging this, it's Happy NY! I was sure it would be In His Wildest Dreams lol. It only just lost out by 0.3%

Leader by POV: Alex, with 6 fics to his name. Then it's 3 for Henry and 3 in split POV, though Henry would lead this if I was doing it by word count lol

Things that moved me beyond words: everything Deep Blue related, but especially the comments (and I'd never done this before, but last week I sorted all fics in the RWRB tag by comments and there it was... on the first page 😱 *Of course almost half of those comments are from me, replying to people. Timely reminder of how all these metrics are not necessarily a true reflection of a work or a writer’s value). Anyway, whether it's people relating to Alex's confusion when working out his sexuality (hi 🙋‍♀️), or people who see themselves in Henry and his paralysing fear of being hurt again (hi again 🙋‍♀️), and everyone who dropped into the comments to commiserate about wanting to quit their jobs and fuck off to the coast to write full time (🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️), they all mean so much.

New Year's resolutions:

to finish a bunch of WIPs

to work on fewer things at once and not stress myself out by having a bunch of unfinished things

to crack on with my original writing

This post ran a lot longer than I was expecting! I'm not tagging anyone because I don't want anyone to feel pressured to share numbers and compare themselves to others. The last four months have been CRAZY in the RWRB fandom, and to be honest looking at numbers and stats is a surefire way to feel small or slow or just plain not enough when you start comparing yourself to others.

But if you feel proud of something you've done (the first thing you've ever written! the first fic you've ever shared! some sort of stat breakthrough! your first ao3 subscribers!), whatever it is, please share. And tag me! Doing all of this online stuff can be fun, but it can sometimes feel lonely too. The best thing about it is talking to people, whether it be in discord or ao3 comments or on tumblr posts and messages or getting tagged on WIP posts just because people think I might like to see what they're writing, or because they want to see what I'm working on.

Anyway, my point is: don't be lonely. Bang on that tag. 😉❤️

Now, who's going to teach me how to use code and shit so I can have a nice spreadsheet with all these stats on? I did it all by hand and now I need a nap.

#ao3 wrapped #ao3 stats #2023 ao3 year in review #about me #tag games #2023 wrapped

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shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

Heartbeat

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 6.0k

[ ☀︎, ✘ (nsfw!) ] bitta fluff, mostly smut oop

themes : doctor/healer!reader x pro-hero!shouto, mild temp play (quirk use), confession, dirty talk

bio : You ditch your boring dinner date to tend to your favorite coworker’s latest battle wounds... though upon healing him swiftly, you find an excuse to stay.

author’s note : this is for bnha bookclub’s bingo event, for which i can now cross off the “hero x doctor” slot ;) bingo masterlist here! special thanks to @fanfic-me-up & @savagetrickster for beta’ing! tysm lovelies <3

side note: this fic is dedicated to my special peony @shoutodoki for her birthday!! val honey i love you so much. you’re my oldest friend in this fandom and every time we talk you fill my day with sunshine. please wish this sweetpea a happy birthday!!!

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

Sparkling droplets of rain run off the plastic of your umbrella and onto the marble floor in the hallway. Setting the drenched thing against the wall, you wipe the soles of your shoes against the doormat. Stretching your lungs with a fresh breath of air, you push the handle until the door opens soundlessly, allowing you entrance into the shadowy apartment. None of the lights are on; the only source of luminescence is from the soft glow of the street lamps shining through the downpour on the sidewalk far below. The silence of the seemingly empty place is only interrupted by the steady rainfall outside, and you fidget with the strap of your purse on your shoulder, suddenly feeling like you shouldn’t be here. Sure, you’ve been to Shouto’s apartment, but it’s always been daytime before, and somehow the storm outside makes you feel even jumpier than usual.

A soft groan rips you away from your overthinking, and your feet immediately slip out of their shoes, taking you toward the source of the noise without hesitation. As you round the entryway corner, you can see his figure slumped on the end of the leather sectional. He’s bathed in a gloomy grayish-yellow hue from the dim light that pours through the ceiling-tall windows, red and white locks looking tousled and hero suit plenty disheveled.

“Shouto!” you gasp his name when you register the scarlet on the front of his jacket, your body moving to kneel before him without so much as a thought.

The pro-hero Shouto coughs as he tries to sit up, a large hand clutching his ribs when he starts to sputter out a greeting. You hope he cannot see the flush that blooms in your chest and cheeks as he murmurs your name, his voice gravely and low, as if he hadn’t said a word in hours. How long has he been sitting here like this— how long has he been waiting for you? Before you can talk, he forces himself to speak. “It’s not my blood,” he says, meagerly attempting to comfort you.

His eyes are barely open, squinting at you through what must be quite some discomfort— his face is contorted into a grimace and his hand still covers his side, his breath ragged. His fingers feel cold as your hand lands on top of his, thumb stroking across the surprisingly soft skin on his wrist. “Let me help you,” you whisper, and he nods, your locked gaze sizzling as he takes your hand in his.

Shouto bites back a whimper as he moves his other hand to burn off the material of his hero costume, head falling back onto the cushions of the sofa in pain. His palm is cool atop yours as you examine the purple and red tainting his pale skin, a frown forming on your lips.

“It’s not broken, so that’s good,” you say quietly, fingertips dragging along the tight muscle. When you prod the flesh along the top of the bone, he sucks in harshly, which only causes him to yelp, his fingers tightening around your wrist. “It is bruised, though…”

He exhales an icy breath, nodding at you when you give him a look for permission. Placing your palm on top of his battered skin, you close your eyes and concentrate. You let yourself envision his healed body, the pale muscle of his obliques rippling on his healthy physique. The image makes you feel hot, and you try your best not to let the thought of his naked body distract you from the task at hand.

Meanwhile Shouto watches you work, his gaze glued to you as your eyelashes flutter on your cheekbones, your lips a flat line in determination. There’s a soft, golden glow beneath your hand, bathing his flesh and your face in an heavenly light. Shouto wonders if you know what you look like using your quirk— if you know that you look simply angelic while illuminated in gold and tending to his wounds, taking away his pain. It’s over swiftly, and he’s not sure if he’s more relieved that the pain has stopped, or reluctant his time with you is over already.

“You could’ve gone to the hospital, you know,” you sigh, the light from your palm fading as you lean back, nails brushing against his abdomen before you take your hand away.

He frowns as your touch leaves him, sitting up and breathing deeply. His lungs stretch and empty without any pain, and his lips curl into a thankful smile. “But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to see you.”

You wonder if he notices the effect his choice of words has on you— if he sees how you bite your lip and turn away, too flustered to look at him in all his handsomeness. You don’t need an excuse to see me, you think, hands folding together in your lap.

It’s then that Shouto notices your appearance is even more gorgeous than ever— your earrings dangle and sparkle in the moonlight, your dress hugging your figure snug and hanging just low enough to show a stretch of cleavage. Your collar bones stand out against the thin, plum-colored straps, and your hair falls perfectly on your shoulders. Wow, is he glad he called you tonight.

“Speaking of, you look… stunning. I thought you looked cute in your white coat and everything at work, but this is really something else,” he comments, eyes trailing down your chest to stop on the gemstone pendant shining brightly between your breasts. He feels heat rise to his cheeks, tearing his stare away and instead examining your bashful expression. “I’m sorry if I interrupted your evening.”

You laugh at that, a short sigh falling from your lips. “Don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting much of anything,” you say, playing with the sparkling bracelet on your wrist. You chance a glance up at him to see him looking at you, curiosity shimmering in those captivating, mismatched orbs. “Date was a bust, the guy would not stop talking about microbrews the whole time, and then— get this— he ate my lava cake when he said he didn’t want dessert!”

Shouto laughs at your clear display of upset, a hearty, rich chuckle sounding from deep inside of him. The sound causes butterflies to flurry in your stomach, a grin conquering your pout as you watch his laughter come to an end. “That’s definitely a red flag,” he smiles, pink lips turning up and warm eyes falling on you once again. “The lady has to have her own dessert. Shame on him, screwing up his chance with you.”

“He never had much of a chance anyway,” you mumble, your gaze tracing the shadows stretched across the salt and pepper rug in faux interest. Before Shouto can ask what exactly you mean by that, you cut him off, standing up and brushing off your thighs, smoothing out your dress. “I’m glad you’re okay, though. You don’t feel any more pain, do you?”

“No I’m—” his lips part before he closes his mouth, brow furrowing before he sits upright, hand coming to land over his chest. “Actually right here is a little tight, do you think you could look at it for a second?”

You blink owlishly as he moves, lithe fingers unzipping his shirt and exposing his chiseled torso to you. Desire stirs between your legs at the sight of him, half naked and gazing up at you expectantly. If you didn’t know any better… you’d think he’s trying to make a move on you. Hesitantly you sit on the edge of the couch cushion, reaching out for him. The muscles on his chest jump when you make contact, his flesh warm and smooth beneath your skin. “Here?”

Shouto watches your eyes widen as his other hand slides around your waist, pushing your body toward his. His fingers wrapping around your wrist, he steers your stretched palm across the expanse of his pecs, stopping when it’s positioned on top of his heart. “Here,” he replies, feeling the muscle start to move rapidly underneath your caress.

“S-Shouto, I—” a part of you wants to believe he really is coming onto you, while the other side of you knows that first, you two work together, and second, he could have any woman he wants— he would never choose you. “What are you..?”

“Is it supposed to beat this fast?” He tilts his head, expression earnest, his fingers dipping into your flesh through the silky fabric of your dress. “I always feel like this when you’re near.”

You don’t know what to say— you don’t know if you can even speak at this point. It’s so hot in here, and his gaze, his touch— the frantic thumping of his heart beneath your palm— it’s all completely overwhelming you, so much to take in.

“Is something wrong with me?” Shouto asks, and his arm around your waist tightens, causing you to tumble into his chest. Your soft breasts press up against his firm chest, both your hands splayed open on the expanse of his pecs. You can feel his heart pounding underneath your hand, leaping in his chest like it’s trying its best to reach you. It’s the exact same as how your own feels at this very moment.

You start to tremble in his arms, your face so close to his. You can see each shade of blue and gray in his eyes, every freckle and scar on his skin. He’s never been so close to you before, and you can feel your composure melting away rapidly, his flames licking your body and warming you to the bone. “No, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you,” you answer, your voice barely above a whisper.

Then he’s leaning into you, cologne faintly wafting off his throat. His head is tilted slightly, eyes dropping to your lips— oh god, he’s going to kiss you. “So this isn’t all in my head, then, is it?” His voice is low, so low— as if he fears he’ll scare you off if he raises it even just a hair. “The lingering glances, the touches, the flirting— you want this, too, right?”

His hold on you finally breaks through the layers you’d built so carefully, your hesitance slipping away like smoke in the wind. There’s only a brief moment that the two of you stare into each other, questioning if you really want to cross this line or not. If you’re ready to drop the charade, the game of cat and mouse.

There’d be no going back once even just one toe sneaks over that threshold.

But it doesn’t matter, because just like that, you’re kissing him, a muffled moan sneaking out from between your lips and reverberating through his. Shouto kisses you back with fervor, eager hands gathering your body closer to his— fingers kneading into your flesh and rubbing over your dress. Your lips slot together perfectly, his soft and plush as they move in synchronization with yours. When you push, he pulls— and when you moan, his tongue roves over your lip before dipping inside your mouth. You’re panting, fireworks exploding underneath your skin with every caress, mind and body completely drunk off of him. Your heart is pounding furiously in your chest, any inhibitions good as gone. Todoroki Shouto is kissing you, ravaging you on his couch in his apartment— and he’s shirtless, and he’s touching you, and he’s holding you so tight and so close that you can barely even think to kiss him back.

Shouto breaks away from you, breathing slightly labored as a bright grin morphs his mouth. “I’ve wanted that for so long,” he confides, pressing his forehead to yours. One of his hands wanders up and down the curve of your spine, smoothening the fabric of your dress. His bottom lip shines with a mixture of your saliva, glistening brightly in the dimly-lit room.

“Shouto,” you whisper his name, cautious not to shatter this perfect moment. You take a second to gather your courage before you secure your arms around his neck, your thigh slipping over both of his as you position yourself above his lap. Shouto’s eyes are wide as you shyly meet his gaze, tingles zipping through your limbs when your panties brush along his muscular thigh. “I can’t… I can’t pretend that I don't want you for another second…”

You can’t bear to look at him, so you close your eyes and press your lips flush against his once more, your fingertips twirling in his messy locks of red and white. There’s a temporary pause, Shouto laying still beneath you as you kiss him, petting his chest and his hair as your legs tighten around him.

And then you’re on your back, hair fluffed out on the pillow behind you as Shouto hovers over you, his strong arms holding himself upright as his lips attack your own with ferocity. He’s in between your legs, a large hand cupping your jaw and guiding your face so your lips can dance flawlessly, tongues swirling together with ease. A wave of lust crashes over you, Shouto’s hand wandering beneath your waist, your spine curling to arch your chest into his. He groans as he feels the plushness of your breasts against him, hugging you tighter as his tongue traces the bottoms of your teeth.

“You dunno how happy I am to hear that,” he pants, tracing the wet muscle along your jaw and down your throat. He starts to suck on the sensitive skin there, and your hips jerk up into his instinctively, a strangled whine tumbling from your mouth. He kisses your neck messily, trailing down to the soft skin at the neckline of your dress. “So responsive,” he purrs, and you can feel your pussy clench tight beneath your lace thong, excitement gathering between your legs. “How long have you wanted me?”

You close your eyes, swamped with anticipation as you feel him shuffle between your legs. His hot mouth nips at more and more of your skin, shuffling the dress down so your tits spill out of the ensemble, nipples stiff and begging for his attention. “So long, Shouto,” you moan as his warm mouth engulfs the pebbled bud, the tip of his tongue rolling around it easily. He sucks gently, and your legs twitch together, your thighs desperate to create some kind of friction to relieve the wetness gathering in your panties.

Shouto smirks at you, lazily lapping at you as a hand wanders down the front of your dress. He takes your nipple between his teeth teasingly, cool breath only making the poor bud harden even further. His fingers gather the bottom of your dress at your hip, pushing the fabric up so your cunt feels the cool breeze of the air conditioning, your thong not offering much protection. “All that time, I could’ve been touching you like this,” he sighs, fingertip running along your slit through your underwear. He tugs at your nipple when he pulls his hand back, rubbing the ample, sticky evidence of your need between his fingers.

You squirm underneath him, flustered and impatient, sinful embarrassment surging through you at how slutty you must look in his eyes. “I— I’ve thought about you… l-like this, on so many nights,” you squeak out, your cheeks bursting with heat from the mortification. But you need him to know that you’re only like this for him… because of him.

He groans in response, letting your nipple free before he moves to devour the other one. His hands grow impatient, fingers looping under the sides of your panties before he slips them down the length of your thighs, flinging them off into the darkness of the apartment as soon as they’re around your ankles. Immediately he cups your dripping folds, peeling his digits apart so you’re left completely exposed to him, revealing your glistening hole and puffy clit. “You touch yourself and think of me?” he reiterates, a dangerous tone lacing his low voice.

He slips two fingers vertically between your folds, coating them in your ambrosial slick, and rubbing the pads of his fingers over your twitching entrance. His mouth suddenly turns cold, and he grins as he feels your hole quiver violently in response. “Yes,” you breathe out, the word slipping through your lips like a snake. “Oh, yes!”

Shouto slips the fingers inside, each two knuckles deep as his fingerprints rub along your shivering, slick walls. He washes the bud in his mouth with his searing tongue, his quirk tossing you left and right in the throes of pleasure. He allows you time to stretch, casually pushing his fingers out and then back in, never going deeper than that initial thrust. It’s not long before you’re gasping, your body trembling underneath his, and aching for more of his touch. Your tits fall from his face as he cranes his neck back up to look you in the eye. “And did you ever make yourself feel this good?” he queries, and before you can answer, he thrusts the digits all the way inside of you, his knuckles grinding against your quivering entrance.

Your eyes roll back as he begins to move his fingers, the tips of them reaching places you’d never been able to reach yourself. He’s so long, and thick compared to the equipment you’re accustomed to; his genetics blessing you and filling you better than your own hands ever could. “N-Never— oh, god— Shouto!” you cry, just as his lips capture yours again. You whimper and whine into his mouth, legs switching between spreading wider and tightening around his ass, trying to pull him into you. His tongue dominates yours, claiming your mouth as his own. You let him lead— too lost to try and fight him— happily submitting and allowing him to guide you through the pleasure. His fingers work diligently inside of you, alternating between pumping into you, curling to press into your spongy walls, and sliding out all the way to tease your sopping hole.

His mouth leaves yours as he moves to kneel on the floor, gathering your frame to sit upright with his free hand. His slender digits still pressed deep inside of you wiggle, and you bite your lower lip as he begins to kiss along your inner thighs. “Did this tight little pussy cum around your fingers, wishing they were mine instead?” he asks, words rumbling against your skin.

Your thighs shake as he holds them open, his wide shoulders pressing against one and the other in his white-knuckled grip. “Yes, yesyesyes,” you mewl as he ducks down, lips pressing a sweet kiss to your throbbing clit. “I imagined you between my legs, ah!— f-filling me so many times!” Your confession seems to be exactly what he was waiting for, for his mouth sucks in your clit and he starts to shower it with attention— licking and rubbing the flat of his tongue up against it for complete stimulation. You cry out, his fingers continuing their assault on your tender walls deep inside, bending to put pressure against just the right spot.

“Come on then,” he gasps for air, your clit buzzing as his cool breath washes over the aching pearl. His lips shine in the low lighting, glossed with a generous film of your essence while his dual-colored gaze burns into yours with fiery determination. “Don’t you wanna cum for the real thing?”

He attacks you again, this time less merciful than the last— his fingers pummeling into your gummy insides with determination, his tongue lashing over your clit and sucking on it so hard that his cheekbones stand out on his handsome face. The intensity of it all is too much, your body feeling electrified by another’s touch— it had been so long since you’d been satisfied by a man. And this was no ordinary man, not to mention— it’s Shouto who’s pleasuring you— the man who makes your heart race and your stomach burst with butterflies. The pressure heightening in your stomach, your walls flutter against him, attempting to suck his fingers even deeper. You’ve wanted him for so long; gazed at him from across the conference table or tended to his wounds with extra care, even spent who knows how many lunch breaks by his side. Now that you have him, here between your legs, here for you to touch and hold and kiss, your body falls apart for him. Just for him.

Shouto moans as your orgasm ripples through you, the tip of his tongue twirling your sensitive pearl as his digits press against your slick, quivering walls, only delivering more pleasure to you and intensifying your climax. His cock throbs along his thigh, wondering how heavenly you’ll feel wrapped around his length and clamping down around it instead of his fingers. You’re still entranced by your orgasm, ecstasy coursing through your veins like fire and ice combining explosively, just like the quirk of the man who had caused such a phenomenon. When your grip on his disheveled hair finally unfurls, he pulls his fingers out of you, mouth making quick work of kissing your dripping, twitching cunt all over. With one last kiss to your pulsing clit, he moves back onto the couch, hovering over your fatigued body.

Your head already clearing of the static, orgasmic fog, your fingers slide around the back of his neck, underneath the cool fabric of his hero suit and along his broad shoulders. The muscles adorning his back are firm beneath smooth skin, the heat of him radiating through and greeting your fingertips pleasantly. Shouto gets the message, sitting back and shrugging off the jacket. Just as he does so, you make your move, pushing his shoulders back just hard enough to get him off balance, falling back onto his ass with wide eyes. Instantly you take your place before him, your knees hitting the carpet as your hands travel up his slender thighs, sinew twitching beneath your caress.

He doesn’t say a word as he watches you undo the top of his pants, your lips trailing along the prominent contours of his abdomen. Even in the dim lighting, you can see the outline of his cock struggling to be freed against his inner thigh, aching to be released and touched by you. You share a heavy look with him as your hands pull down his pants, his boxer briefs going with them. His length springs out of its confines, standing thick, long, and deliciously hard against his pelvis. You can’t help but stare at it, your tongue wandering out to wet your lips as you take the sight of him in before you.

When you glance up to catch his expression, you’re shocked to find his cheeks slightly darkened, his brow furrowed as he gazes down at you. “Y/N, you don’t have to—” he gasps as your mouth envelops the head of his cock, the hot, wet suction enough to steal his breath away. “F-Fuck…” Shouto sighs as you begin to slide even more of him into your mouth, your tongue gliding against the underside of his throbbing length. You make it halfway down his length before you lean back, pressing a chaste kiss to the very tip of him, just as gently as he’d kissed your clit moments ago.

“I want to,” you murmur, your words reverberating against his hard cock, a coy smile curling the corners of your mouth as it jerks against your lips. “I wanna take care of you, Shouto,” you hum, your hand wrapping around the base of him and beginning to pump, “Let me taste you.” His head falls back onto the top of the sofa, a muffled groan trapped in his throat. It’s ripped out of him as your mouth descends onto him again, your spit allowing you to take him deeper and deeper into your throat. You do your best to keep a steady tempo, bobbing up and down on his cock as you suck in your cheeks, tongue swirling and massaging the bulging veins along his shaft. Beads of pre-cum stain your tastebuds, bittersweet and urging you to continue your ministrations. The head of his cock brushes against the back of your throat and he groans loudly, lithe fingers gripping your hair tight.

Shouto tenses beneath you, his abs straining as he holds your head flush against his pelvis, his cock sheathed deep into your throat. “You feel… so good,” he moans, pulling your head back and letting you catch a fresh breath of air. You take the opportunity gladly, wasting no time before you take his engorged length back into your mouth. Carefully you suck on the tip of him, your hand moving to jack off his length as your other hand cradles his balls, your thumb rolling them easily in your palm. The effect is immediate, Shouto’s laboured breath coming out in harsh pants as your fist slides along him flawlessly. He bites his lip, his free hand pushing his snow and scarlet locks off his forehead as he chokes out, “T-Too good— slow down, baby.”

When you don’t adhere to his instruction, he reaches down and touches your cheek, guiding your mouth off of him before he leans forward and pulls you into his arms, your knees dipping into the soft cushions of the sofa on either side of his hips. He wastes no time snagging your dress over your shoulders, leaving you completely naked on top of his lap.

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” he nearly whines, eyes raking over every curve, his hands coming to rest along the top of your hips before they wander around your back, cupping an ass cheek in either palm. He guides your body forward, your dripping folds dragging against his slick cock. Your hand lands on his wide chest, the other coming to rest on his cool cheek to steer his gaze unto yours. His eyes seem alive with passion, boring into you with unrestrained desire, filled with emotion as he whispers, “I want you so damn bad, Y/N.”

You smile and touch your lips to his, enjoying the moment of tenderness between the two of you, your bodies finally pressed flush against each other, with nothing to separate your skin from his. “Then take me,” you reply, voice hushed and gente, your thumb stroking against the edge of his scar, “I’m all yours, Shouto.”

A simultaneous moan overtakes the silence in the room as his cock sheathes completely inside of you, your sticky, velvet walls stretching wide around his intruding length. He’s so big, and hard— you can feel every single inch of him, all the way to his swollen tip that nearly brushes against your womb. Your pussy struggles to accommodate him, pulsing and clutching onto him as every time you think you’re adjusting to his size, more pleasure flows through you and you clench onto him again.

“H-Hot,” Shouto groans, face buried in your shoulder as his fingers dig into the plush of your ass. “So hot, and wet… and you— you’re so fucking tight.” He takes a few deep breaths before his biceps flex, and he pulls your body up slowly before he allows gravity to take it back down, your sweltering cunt swallowing him inside again.

His length pushing into you elicits a loud moan from you, the feeling of your walls stretching so deliciously around his width only causing further bliss. Not to mention how the head of his cock prods into a sacred spot as your ass meets the top of his thighs, his length disappearing completely inside of you as your toes curl behind you. Your body tingles, electricity zipping through your veins as you strain your thighs, pushing yourself back up so his cock slips mostly out of you before you fall back down, spearing yourself onto his waiting length. “S-Shouto,” you gasp, trying to find a tempo as you repeat the action, your slick dribbling out to coat his cock even further, “you’re so big, I— your cock, it—aha nnn— it feels so good!”

Shouto’s hands stray from your ass, traveling up your spine, your waist, your thighs, your tits. He’s examining your body, his lips parted as heavy pants tumble out between them, eyes soaking in every part of you and committing it to memory. A hand cups your breast, squeezing and flicking a nipple back and forth with his thumb. He notices how your cunt squeezes around his cock when he does that, and he licks his lips as he continues to toy with it, pinching and rolling the hard bud between his fingertips.

Meanwhile you can barely keep your eyes open, your jaw fighting the opposite battle and losing, quite frankly, as it hangs unhinged, choked moans tumbling out from the bottom of your lungs. Your hips fire relentlessly, his cock pushing in and out of your slippery walls as easily as a hot knife slipping through butter. With every meeting of your hips against his, his cock drills into your sweet spot, stars dotting along the corners of your vision. You’ve never been so full, your body nor your heart, certainly not both at the same time— nothing like this.

This is something else— incredible, ethereal.

You’re with Shouto, and he’s with you.

The lewd, wet slapping of your pussy against his pelvis fills his living room with noise, the sofa wheezing ever so slightly with every roll of your hips. You cry out when Shouto takes your other nipple into his mouth, sucking and tongue writhing against the perky bud mercilessly. Your fingers curl into his two-toned locks, securing a harsh grip while your other hand stays on his shoulder for balance, your body rocking itself onto his hard cock like it’s the only thing keeping you alive. You want to reach down and rub your clit, the pleasure already beginning to build up in your stomach.

Shouto can feel your cunt fluttering, your desperation to cum clear as day. You squeak as his arms envelop you, one curling around your waist and the other up your back as he plants a firm grasp around the bend of your shoulder. With his grip secured on you, he starts to thrust upwards, his cock slamming into your trembling pussy with vigor.

You cry out, his hips drilling into you from below faster, harder than you’d been able to provide. The brutal onslaught catches you off guard, leaving you breathless for a moment as you allow the sheer pleasure to take over. “Shouto! You shouldn’t— ohh, god yes!— fuck, y-you should— your ribs!” you try to say, but he doesn’t give you a second to think, nor to catch your breath. He just keeps hurling your body down onto his waiting cock, spreading your walls with his thick length and driving into your pussy without relent.

“That’s okay Doc,” he chuckles, sucking in a short breath through his bared teeth, his lips tracing along the column of your throat, “You fixed me up, so— hah, fuck— just… let me make you feel good t-too.” He begins to sloppily kiss your neck, marking your skin and stating his claim on you for all to see. His cock easily glides into you, despite your tightening walls as your impending orgasm draws closer and closer. The bouncing of your body onto his allows your clit to be stimulated too, rolling against the firm muscle of his pelvis as he thrusts up, meeting you halfway.

The inferno in your belly only grows more powerful as his cock continues to plunge into you, your pussy sinking down onto him willingly while your excess slick drips down onto his lap. You’re so turned on that the only thing you can focus on is Shouto, hammering away underneath you as he sucks on the fragile skin on your neck. Surely there’ll be hickeys there tomorrow morning, but you can’t find a single fuck to give, too occupied with the thought of being his and everyone knowing it. You find your pussy gripping onto him tightly at that, desperate for you to seal the deal, your months of yearning coming to an end as his hips stutter against yours, his fingers digging into you as he clutches onto you. You want to feel him finish inside of you, for him to coat your walls in his essence and claim your body as his.

Shouto seems to be on the same page, for his arms lock around your waist now, pressing your chest flush against his. Your eyes find his for a brief moment, all that pent-up longing shattering as you look at him and he looks at you. He closes his eyes as your lips meet, ragged breath mixing as your tongues ravel, and it’s then that you let out a sinful moan, the rubber band in your stomach snapping.

Euphoria floods through your system, every nerve in your body lighting up like the night sky on the fourth of july. Tidal waves of pleasure crash through you, your body trembling in his arms as your cunt wrings snug around his cock like a vise. Shouto groans against your mouth as your walls clamp and flutter, milking him for everything he’s worth. His own orgasm hits him too, his seed spurting into your womb as thick, white ribbons spray deep inside of you. Your fingers nestled in his hair, you keep your lips on his— the only anchor you can keep ahold of as your body is cast out to a sea of ecstasy. His hands slide down to cup your ass again, leisurely rocking your body against his as you both ride out your highs and cling to each other.

As you catch your breath, you lean into his strong frame, nose buried in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. His palms trace your spine up and down, one cool and one warm. When you finally lean back to look at him, you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your lips, tired laughter bubbling up in your throat. Shouto smiles back at you, a large hand coming to cup your jaw and bring your lips to his once more.

You sigh into the kiss, content blooming in your chest as bliss from your orgasm still lingers, simmering on the backburner gently while you bask in his embrace. This kiss is sweet and short, unlike the ones from earlier that were all-consuming and overflowing with passion.

“Can I take you to that restaurant you went to tonight sometime?” Shouto whispers, words barely loud enough for your ears to catch, even though you’re right before him.

Blinking at him curiously, one side of your mouth quirks upwards at his proposal, your eyebrow following its lead. “What? Does it have to be the same one?”

Shouto frowns. “Yes. So I can order you your lava cake,” he states nonchalantly, expression completely serious. His biceps flex on either side of you, chest puffing out slightly. “I promise you can have every bite to yourself.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at his bluntness, unable to stop yourself from absolutely beaming at him, and shooting him your gooiest heart eyes. He feels his heart skip a beat, his cheeks flushed with pink at being the target of your affectionate gaze.

“If it means you’re taking me out… I guess I wouldn’t mind sharing.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

as always, thank you for reading <3 villain!denki coming tomorrow~

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