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celestial-snowdrop · 2 days ago
Heavy Rain (Katsuki Bakugo x Reader)
Katsuki Bakugo x Reader
Hello! This will be rather angsty, and I have not yet decided on whether or not I will make a part two to this little one shot. I haven’t written in a very long time-- much less for a fan fiction, so forgive me if the quality is not too stellar. I have not yet proofread this, but I hope you enjoy! I do not own any characters used in this story.
Important: Includes infidelity, angst with no comfort, and inexperienced writing.
Word Count: 2.4k
It had been an extremely long week while visiting your mother during her passing. She had been sick for quite some time now, and you had made the effort to be there during her final moments; reminiscing on when you were younger and all the things you had done- and wish you had done- with one another. Your boyfriend, Bakugo Katsuki, had been supportive of you going out to see her, helping make the arrangements for the flight; as well as help you pack.
To be quite honest, it had been a relief that he had done that for you… at least to you.
He had been acting a bit more irritable towards you for the last month or so of your relationship after you had introduced him to a couple of your close friends, and you had figured it was just because he had been on his “man period” so-to-speak during that time; but when it persisted, it simply became the new norm. He didn’t bother spending as much time with you, and although you just couldn’t figure out why, you accepted him for who he was. As you are driving down the city streets to your apartment, you couldn’t help but follow a few rain drops racing down the side of your window at the stop light. It was around seven in the evening, so it was starting to get rather dark out- making it increasingly more difficult for you to see the street ahead of you. Combined with the slick streets from the rain? A possible catastrophe waiting to happen.
Nevertheless, you continued on your way. 
You gently turned up the radio, hoping to keep your thoughts at bay. You would like to think that it had been that he sympathized with you and wanted to comfort you, which is why he made such an effort to help you go visit your mother; but your insecurities started to come back at you not long after he became more distant with you. At the prospect of him helping you to get up and out of the house so quickly, it raised questions like: Why would he want me gone so bad? Is he trying to get rid of me or is he genuinely trying to help me? 
But of course, with your trust in him, you dismissed such ideas. Why would you even think he would treat you in such a poor manner? What could he possibly gain from that? How shitty of a person are you to have made such a ill-mannered guess that he would do that to you? Are you truly going to pin your insecurities on him like a child rather than attempting to maturely address the situation-- as if there was anything to address to begin with?
You are giving yourself a headache, you should probably turn the radio up a little louder. 
Quite obviously, you couldn’t help but begin drowning in an ever growing ocean of anxiety, diffidence, and pain. No longer could you enjoy the shore of the beach, being that the tide was rising a little faster than you could outrun it. You take a hand off the steering wheel, pressing it against the deep aching in your chest; a sharp panging that you couldn’t manage to alleviate on your own. Pressing a little harder on the gas pedal, you hope to get home as soon as possible. The city lights flashed behind you as you passed through, getting closer to the small home you share with your boyfriend.
Who knows? Maybe this little break has been beneficial for your relationship! It could be that maybe we felt a little smothered with you being around so often, and maybe you’ll get that loving young man you fell in love with two years ago back.
With that thought in mind, you finally let a small smile crack on your face-- just barely perceptible, but the only thing you want right know is to be held by your significant other. To be told it was all going to be okay. To provide solace to you. 
Pulling up to your home, it didn’t take you long to see a familiar car parked in your usual parking space. It was odd to see in every sense of the word, especially with Katsuki’s insistence to have alone time; therefore going out quite often. You parked along the curb before getting out of your car, and closing your gently. You stand right by your car door for a few seconds, mind blank as your heart is doing all the thinking you don’t need. You have never been one to make assumptions, so with a heavy heart and weighty chin up, you slowly make your way to the door. It feels as though your stomach is shaking slightly from your nerves, but you shake your head to attempt to clear such a feeling. You’re soaked to the bone just from the few minutes you spent out there, gathering your nerves. With a final glance towards to the license plate of the vehicle parked in your spot, you unlock and open your front door, dragging your luggage and carryon into your home. Following your entrance, you gently close the door and take off your shoes. Walking into the kitchen, you don’t spot anyone.
... Okay.
You opt to walk to your living room in search of Katsuki and the friend he has over. It has been a while since you have seen her, if it’s the car you are thinking of. You hear some shuffling around upstairs and your heart leaps out of your chest-- oh! He is upstairs!
… They are upstairs?
Just as quickly as your heart leapt, it began to race. It felt as though there was ringing in your ears as your mind began to buzz. Why are you freaking out right now you fucking moron? Who is to say that anything like you had thought of time and time again is to be true? Can you just have some fucking faith in your spouse for once?
You fidget with you hands together as you approach the bottom of the stairs, slowly making your way up. As you get closer to the top, the more blurry everything becomes. It’s like you can’t focus on anything, not being able to hear anything other than the sounds coming from your bedroom. 
You finally get to the door, and your heart decides to just stop entirely. 
You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the scene before you, your eyes trained on the blonde haired man holding the familiar head of a brunette you’re close friends with pressed down on the bed.
You were close friends with. 
He didn’t know you were coming home today. Is that why he left the door open just that much? Or was it some sort of sick, sick joke he was playing on you. Your head was ringing with the sounds of their voices, making you increasingly nauseous. Were you going to throw up? Your body began to heat up, and your legs began to shake. Your breath began picking up, nearly hyperventilating, and your eyes began tearing. It was that way until it all just…
You shut down the moment you locked eyes with him. He had pulled her hair to lift her head off the bed, unintentionally giving the both of them a direct line of sight to your state of absolute emptiness. And heartbreak. It was like time froze, before playing in slow motion, the sight of him shoving her off of him and you turning towards the stairs to make a break for it; but who were you kidding? It was like you couldn’t manage to move any faster than your mind was playing the situation in your head. Bakugo’s eyes were furious, then fearful, and furious once again.
It wasn’t often that you could catch him in such a state of panic and unease-- and the fact that you were the one to make him feel this way? Only makes you feel like an even bigger piece of shit. You should have never come home. You should have never thought you could be happy in  a relationship-- that was selfish. You should have left when your mom did. 
Is it too late for that?
You’re already making your way down the stairs when Bakugo, in his frenzied state, throws open the bedroom door.
“What the hell, (Y/n)?! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were coming home?!”
“Why the fuck can’t you just fucking not be selfish for once and keep me updating on these fucking things?!”
“W-Where the hell are you going?”
“Wait-- listen (Y/n) just stop! Listen to me okay I- shit, I swear I love you please just fucking wait!” He practically begs, frustrated tears built up the corners of his eyes before he aggressively wipes them away with a fist, grabbing you by your shoulder.
He was frantic. He knew he fucked up, and he did not want to lose you. He was being selfish and he knew it, but fuck he just couldn’t help himself, could he? He was panicked, and also infuriated. He was angry-- why? It was the way he was. People experience emotions in different ways, some people reacting by laughing when scared, while others may act indifferent, while others may get enraged. The latter being Katsu- Bakugo. 
Your blank expression was the only thing that he was met with, the prior tear tracks having been lost in your sopping hair and wet skin.
“Why the fuck are you all wet?! Are you fucking stupid driving with such horrible weather? You’re going to get all sick an-”
“A month and a half.” 
“... what?” Bakugo questions, scanning your face for any ounce of emotion or body language tell that he could use to gauge how you were feeling or reacting.
“A month and a half.” You croak out, looking him dead in the eyes. “A month and a half was how long ago you met her. A month and a half ago was when you started to act differently towards me.” You think aloud, meeting his crimson eyes-- swirling with a turmoil you simply couldn’t help. He is silent, unsure of what he is supposed to respond to that, what was he going to do? Blatantly lie to your face? Or just flat out tell you-- ‘Oh, yeah I had been fucking her with you as my side piece for the past month and a half.’?
“What the fuck are you going on about?” He asks, knowing full well, but just not willing to face the reality of this situation just yet. “You shouldn’t even be fucking home-- why the hell are you here?! Just get the fuck out already!” Bakugo dishes out, quickly one after another. He didn’t want to say that. He didn’t want to watch you as you simply stood staring at him, looking guarded as ever. He didn’t want you to walk away from him to the front door, he wanted to shout at you to stop. He wanted to beg you to stay. He wanted to explain everything- but what was there to explain? He wanted your forgiveness. He wanted to fix things. But he was scared. He was guilty. He was regretful. So what did he do? He let you walk out.
It was silent between the two of you for a few moments before you simply look straight ahead once more, turning to the door. 
“I am sorry that I couldn’t make you happy.”
As you exit out the front door, Bakugo snaps out of his daze, “W-!” he starts, but is cut off from the front door slamming shut. His gutteral “fuck” echoed throughout the house as he rushed back upstairs, searching for a pair of pants to put over the boxers he slipped on before leaving his room. 
“W-Wait babe maybe we should jus-” Your friend starts, attempting to grab onto his arm before being firmly shoved off by him. “Fuck off, now is not the fucking time!” He starts-- “I can’t believe this fucking shit is happening to me…” He grumbles, running out as fast as he could, just missing you pull out and only there to see you starting to who knows where.
“(Y/n)! Fucking stop the car! I- shit, I’m fucking sorry! I didn’t mean it!” He shouts into the night, the sun having set a while back. He didn’t know what to do. You were gone.
Meanwhile, you were simply driving aimlessly. You had set the GPS to take you to a hotel for the night, but to be honest? You weren’t in the mood to go anywhere right now. Why not simply drive until you run out of gas? Sit cold and wet in a car, stewing on nothing but your own bitter thoughts in your numbed mind. It’s funny to think this would be the exact situation you’d call a close friend or your mother for. Now you have neither to rely on.
You turn to another road down the path in the middle of practically no where now, with little reception and a few houses scattered along the way. 
It’s strange to think of how a heavy mind and a heavy heart makes your body feel all the heavier by the moment. It must be why your foot is weighing down on the gas pedal a little more…
And a little more…
And a little more…
And I think that’s enough…
No seriously, come on I think that’s fast enough-- you have to slow down.
The streets are wet, slow down!
Slow down!
You are going to hit something-- you need to slow down!
* 2 Missed calls from Musutafu Hospital
* You have 2 New Voicemails
* Incoming call*
Musutafu Hospital.
* 3 Missed calls from Musutafu Hospital
* You have 3 New Voicemails
Hello Bakugo Katsuki, we are calling you as you are the only remaining emergency contact for (L/n) (Y/n). She has been transported to the emergency room after having been in a car accident. We believe that she had been driving too quickly and couldn’t accommodate the sharp left turn quickly enough to avoid the trees in the area. Due to the speed of the collision, she has endured a lot of physical damage and we would like you to come down to the hospital as soon as possible.
We are uncertain she will survive.
Call us if you have any questions. Thank you.
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turtle-babe83 · 2 days ago
Contest winner @shadow-ninjas , here is your prize, a sexy Donnie story just for you!
So yeah, this took me entirely too long to get posted. I doubt anyone even remembers the contest 😂😂 Sorry about that and I hope this is good enough to make up for it my friend. 💜
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Donnie x F!Reader
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Donatello knew bringing you along on patrol was risky. He worried that he may be putting you in danger. He feared that you wouldn’t be able to keep up. He planned for every possibility save one: YOU. He didn’t suspect that his tiny, sweet girlfriend had such a deviously naughty side to her.
The team had split up for the first part of patrol, under orders from Leonardo to reconvene in one hour at a set meeting spot. You had waited until some distance was between the brothers before you pounced. Donnie had been peering through the windows of an old building to check for gang activity, when you goosed him. He jumped and squeaked while you giggled uncontrollably.
“Y/n, sweetheart, I’m on patrol. Please refrain from your shenanigans,” he whispered sternly.
You gave him your most serious look and nodded briskly. He raised one suspicious brow ridge, before returning to the task at hand. You waited one beat, then two, and then-
“Ahhh!” Donnie yelped, as you leaned over and blew on his neck.
He whirled around and grasped your shoulders, keeping you at arms length. You couldn’t suppress the smirk playing on your lips as he sighed in exasperation. You knew the moment his eyes fell on the undone buttons at the top of your shirt, as lust sparked in his gaze. Straightening your shoulders, you pushed your bust up and out, watching his pupils dilate as he focused on the swell of your breasts. Donnie cleared his throat and tugged you up against him.
“Well, I guess since you won’t behave, I should let you get a little bit out of your system, hmm?” he muttered against your lips, giving you no time to answer.
His mouth was always so overwhelming. So large and consuming. You loved it. And his tongue, oh dear lord, it did such delicious, shivery things to wherever it tasted you. You kissed him back, eagerly, urgently, grasping his bandana tails and holding him close. Thoughts of him had been plaguing your mind all day, distracting you from your job, keeping your panties moist. It was only fair that he give you some relief from all the built up tension. As he pulled away, you followed, trying to capture his lips once again. Pushing you back gently, he chuckled.
“Damn, what’s gotten into you, love?”
You stamped your little foot in frustration.
“The problem is that you are not ‘getting into me’ right now,” you pouted.
Donnie eyed your crossed arms and tried to process what you were saying. Surely, you weren’t suggesting-
“There’s gotta be someplace to fuck around here.”
Yep, that was exactly what you were suggesting. Donnie took a quick look around. There was no one else in sight. Mentally, he kicked himself. Surely, he wasn’t thinking of entertaining this idea? He was working, protecting the city, and if Leo found out, he’d be in the Hashi for sure. But then you looked up from under heavy lashes and licked your lips, and he was done for.
He grabbed your hand and ducked around the back of the building to a door he knew had a broken lock. Sneaking in was the easy part. Finding a spot clean enough to indulge was a bit harder. Deciding that time was being wasted, he dug in his backpack till he produced a hypothermic blanket. It would have to do. He spread it on the floor with a flourish. When he turned back to you, you were playing with the next button on your top.
“I don’t care about this shirt, so please feel free to do with it what you will. And by that, I mean rip it right off,” you grinned.
“You don’t have tell me twice,” Don smirked right back as he grasped the front and jerked, sending buttons popping off and flying everywhere.
You toed off your tennis shoes and divulged of your bra as he worked on pulling your pants and undies down. Now that was something he would never tire of. Pressing his snout to your mound, he sniffed and took a delicate lick.
“Lay back,” he instructed, guiding you down onto the silver blanket.
He wasted no time, sitting between your legs and hoisting them over his shoulders as he lifted your lower half to meet his face. Straight to the clit, he flicked the tip of his tongue furiously as your keening cries echoed in the empty building around you. His tongue dipped down to lap at your entrance for a second before going right back to torturing your tiny nub. Your gasps and moans were just riling him up more, and when you grasped at his bandana tails for the second time tonight to try and keep him close, something snapped. His tongue swirled and stabbed deep, drawing out your essence and oh fuck, you could hear his loud swallows as he drank you down. Your legs shook and you wanted so badly to roll your hips but this position he held you in prevented that. As your release crested, you whimpered his name like prayer. You panted for air as he gently lowered you back down and left one last lingering lick up your slit.
“Holy hell, Don,” you breathed, “Have I ever told you that seeing you between my legs is so hot?”
He grinned as he wiped his mouth. Standing up, he started to pick up your clothes to hand to you when he caught the frown on your face.
“What’s wrong, dove?”
“Why are you stopping?” you whined, not caring how needy you sounded.
“Baby, we gotta meet back up with the others. If we get caught, my ass is going to the Hashi. Maybe you as well,” he chuckled.
You pulled out your sultriest smile. Donnie froze. He knew that look well.
“Are you saying I’m not worth it?” you purred, tone low and threatening.
He gulped. Don knew a loaded question when he heard one. Oh, you were trouble with a capital T. He debated with himself and glanced at his watch.
“We’ve got five minutes until we’re late,” he muttered.
Then he looked back down at you, all spread out for him, asking to be fucked.
“Oh fuck it. Let’s do it,” he relented, unfastening his pants and pushing them down, just far enough to free his quickly hardening length.
You made grabby hands at him, eager to feel him inside. He quickly lined himself up and after hooking his arms under your knees to hold you open, he slid in deep. You hummed happily at the fullness. Donnie worked up a strong rhythm, and every thrust shot a jolt of pleasure through your core. Donnie leaned forward for a messy kiss, trying not to lose momentum, but desperate for the contact. You each panted into one another’s mouths as he began to move faster and harder. As another orgasm crashed over you, you belted out a string of curses to make a sailor blush. Donnie barked out a laugh that was cut short by a groan as he began to cum as well. He allowed your legs to fall and rolled over to the side of you to keep from crushing you as he caught his breath.
“You little minx,” he murmured, with a chuckle.
You both took a moment to stare into the other’s eyes, when a crackling sound came from Donnie’s radio. He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. As he leaned over for one more kiss, his cell rang. He was surprised to see it was Raph instead of Leo, so he answered and put him on speaker so he could get his pants pulled up.
“Hey numb nuts! For a genius, ya ain’t too smart sometimes,” he grumbled. “Check yer radio before ya get busy next time, eh? We don’t need ta hear that shit.”
Donnie’s eyes went comically wide as he checked his comm, and sure enough, the button was stuck. His brothers likely heard the entire escapade. Your face began to turn red as realization hit you.
“Oh my god,” you gasped.
Mikey’s voice piped up over Raph’s end of the line, “You already said that like a million times, Angelcakes. ‘Oh my god, Donnie, don’t stop! Right there!’”
Needless to say, you both ended up in the Hashi, and you made Donnie triple check the radio every time from there on out.
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dean-samw67 · 22 hours ago
Can you write a angst fic about Sang-woo’s S/O going into the games instead of him and returning as the winner? My first time asking so I hope you don’t mind!
(Uh hell yes. I love this idea! Thank you for the suggestion! Hope you enjoy it!)
Finally Home
Cho Sang-woo x GN! Reader
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Warnings ⚠️⚠️: angst
Words: 557
Sang-woo's POV:
They haven't been home for a week. No call. No message. No letter. Nothing. Did they abandon me? I tried to give them everything I could. Or what if something really bad happened to them? God that hurt just to think about. The door opens and I jolt up to see Y/n walking in.
My eyes widen as I take in the fact that they were beat up and bruised. Their hand was wrapped up and they appeared to be limping. Instead of them looking at me with their normal, bright smile they were just staring at the ground.
"Where were you? Why didn't you say anything?" I rush over to them. They just keep their eyes on the ground. "What happened to you?" No response. Instead they lean into me and start to cry into my chest. I wanted to be mad for not hearing from them but those cries... They were an awful sound to hear. I encase their body in my arms and kiss their head.
"Shhh..." I coo. What happened to them?
"Please. Please don't be mad at me. I'm sorry." They sob.
"Where were you?" I rock them as I stroke their back.
"I was at these games... I knew how badly we needed money so I got this offer and thought it would be helpful. They killed everyone. They had no mercy. Anyone who failed to follow rules died." They grip onto me tightly.
"What?" They sounded crazy but from the way they talked seemed like they weren't lying. I knew when they would lie to me.
"It was awful Sang-woo. I barely made it out." They whisper.
"It's okay. You're out. That's what matters. How about I run you a bath?" I suggest. "Hmm?" I hum. They just nod in response. I lead them into the bathroom and sit them on the closed toilet seat. I turn on the water an make it warm before putting the drain cover. I let the water fill up. I turn to Y/n who is nude and looking in the mirror with tear filled eyes. They were covered in blood and dirt. They had cuts all over. Their hand was still wrapped up and their ankle was wrapped as well. I walk towards them and place my hand carefully on their back. They jump and look at me with wide eyes.
"It's okay. It's just me." I reassure.
"Do you want to take these off." I gesture to their hand and ankle.
"I guess..." They mumble. They sit back down. I turn off the water before I get down in front of them and take their hand into mine. I slowly unwrap it to reveal a stab mark on their hand. It looked pretty bad. I help clean it and rewrap it. I then move to their ankle. I unwrap that as well. It was cut up and swollen. I clean this as well.
"We'll have these looked at tomorrow okay?" I say. They nod. I lead them to the tub and help them carefully in. The whimpers of pain they make breaks my heart to pieces.
"I'm sorry."
"What are you apologizing for?" I cup their cheek.
"I just disappeared and then come back like this." They sigh.
"It's okay. Just relax. I'll take care of you." I promise.
"I love you." They lean into my touch.
"I love you." I kiss their head. I'm so glad they were finally home.
(I apologize for it being so short. I tried my best 🧡)
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fanficshiddles · 2 days ago
Loki’s Queen, One Shot
Thanks for the prompt! I also used the name Anya since someone asked about using that name the other day! 😊 eevee-of-rivia submitted: Can you do a Loki or Tom Fluffy one shot with a Cosplayer s/o? Like she likes to cosplay and her favorite character to cosplay is Loki
Loki was utterly in love and devoted to his darling Anya. She didn’t judge him for his past deeds, all she cared about was the present. And they were practically attached at the hip, always together. It was unusual for them to be seen apart.
When he had first brought her home to meet the Avengers about eight months ago, they had all panicked at first, thinking that he had kidnapped her. After she explained to them that she was indeed there of her own free will, they soon relaxed and stopped shielding her from Loki.
To Loki’s delight, Anya adored Loki as much as he adored her. And she never failed to show him and the others how much she loved him. Even often taking the micky out of the ‘heroes’ saying how she was always a Loki fangirl before meeting them all anyway. Loki would just grin widely with his arm around her.
Loki was in awe of what she enjoyed to do, cosplaying. Many of her outfits were incredible, and what she could do with her hair and make-up was something else. But he was suspicious when for one of Starks fancy-dress parties she had spent weeks beforehand working on a new cosplay. Loki tried to get peeks, but she would never let him.
She kept telling him she was making adjustments to one of her favourite cosplays. Loki wasn’t sure which one, as she had never told him her favourite. Perhaps it was Maleficent, or maybe Harley Quinn. Then again, those were his favourites of hers to cosplay as.
Anya had told Loki to go ahead to the party and she would meet him there. He had been eager to see what her cosplay was, but she wouldn’t give in yet. So, donning his Asgardian armour, he headed off to the party.
It was no surprise that Thor was in his armour too, that’s what the God’s always wore when it was a fancy-dress party.
‘Really, you can’t come up with something different?’ Tony asked Loki and Thor. He was dressed as a robot.
‘Come on, Tony. You can’t expect the God’s to lower themselves to our standard.’ Natasha laughed as she walked over to them. She was dressed up as Wanda.
‘And you are supposed to be the witch?’ Loki drawled, raising an eyebrow at her.
‘Hell yeah, I really look up to Wanda. Would give anything to be her.’ She said loudly and looked over at Wanda, who cheered back at her. Wanda was dressed up as a cat.
Everyone else was dressed up as various characters.
Loki was just about to pick up a drink when everyone around stopped talking and was suddenly staring at the doorway.
Loki looked over and his eyes widened when he saw Anya walk in.
She looked magnificent. He couldn’t believe his eyes. She was cosplaying Loki himself. She wore a beautifully intricate corset that matched his armour, but also showed off her breasts in a very delightful way. She had leather trousers that were similar to his own, but even tighter. Long black high heeled boots that gave her a bit more height. Her hair was dyed black, it definitely wasn’t a wig, Loki knew that even from a distance. Anya also had a green cape that draped along the floor behind her. And her horns, if he didn’t know any better and wasn’t wearing them, he would’ve thought that they were actually his own.
Anya smiled and then looked a little shy as she spotted Loki and made her way towards him.
When Loki was able to pick his jaw up from the floor and stop drooling, he managed to focus enough to get his legs to work and moved towards her.
Even with heels on, Loki still towered over Anya. He was a God after all.
‘Wow, Anya…’ He was speechless for a change.
She bit her lip anxiously and smiled up at him. ‘Do you like it?’
‘Like it? I am honoured that you would cosplay me.’ He beamed.
‘Really?’ Her eyes lit up.
‘Really really.’ Loki nodded. ‘But you said you were cosplaying as your favourite… That you were updating your costume a bit?’ He asked, confused.
She blushed and dipped her head down. ‘Yeah, I uhm, have cosplayed as you before.’
‘Oh really? Please tell me you have pictures.’ Loki grinned.
‘Of course.’ She nodded.
Loki ran his fingers down her horns. ‘As usual, your work is incredible, darling.’ He praised.
‘Thank you.’ She grinned up at him.
Tony walked over with Natasha. ‘Seriously, out of all of us he is the one you cosplay as?’ He sneered, though he was impressed with her cosplay.
‘Of course. Why would I want to cosplay as you, when I could cosplay after the real God of mischief?’ Anya smirked and folded her arms across her chest.
‘Ouch. You wound me, Anya.’ Tony mocked as he put his hand over his heart, chuckling a little.
Loki put his arm around Anya’s waist and led her away. ‘Leave my Queen and I alone, Stark.’ He grumbled at him.
Loki wanted to fawn over Anya and her cosplay some more. He looked at every little detail and was in such awe. Then he ran his hand down the cape and looked even more impressed, not noticing her tensing up ever so slightly.
‘You even got the black stitching bang on with this cape. And the velvet.’ He said, surprised.
But then he saw the sheepish look on her face. He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Anya… Is this actually my cape?’
‘Uhm… Yeah, it is.’ She blushed. ‘But the one I made ripped, I panicked and ran into your room and found it… I’m sorry.’ She said quickly.
Loki placed his finger on her lips with a smile. ‘Don’t be sorry. Aside from it being a little big for you, it suits you.’ He winked at her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned down a little to kiss her, his hands holding her face softly while their lips moved together.
‘I love you, Anya. My little Loki cosplayer... My Queen.’ He murmured against her lips.
‘And I love you, Loki. My King.’
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Downey's Farm
Summary: A happy end, 38 years in the making.
Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Clara Downey
Wordcount: 3.9k
Warnings: fluff, angst, (idiots in love) mentions of drugs, PTSD, divorce, mentions of pregnancies, so many kids omg
A/N: Okay this got a little out of hand lmao This weeks Writer Wednesday fic with biggest thanks to @autumnleaves1991-blog & @clydesducktape
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October 1983
It was the first time Frankie remembered being at the farm. His mama told him he had been there before but he couldn’t remember.
He was 7 years old and searching for the biggest pumpkin on the farm when he lost track of his parents. There were so many people around and everything was just so… orange. The longer he looked around the scarier it got. So he did the thing his papa taught him. Find a grown up. He walked back towards the farm and looked around. He remembered he was crying.
“Are you looking for your mommy?” he turned around. There was a little girl standing there in an orange dress. She was smaller than him with long dark hair.
“I lost my mommy and my daddy…” he sobbed, fat tears running down his cheek. The little girl hugged him, telling him she’s gonna help and yelled for her mom.
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October 1987
“Stooooop you gonna cut yourself,” Frankie sighed frustrated as he looked across the table.
“I will never be as good as you Clara,” he pouted. The little girl from all these years ago looked at him.
“I’m only good because I live here,” she nodded.
“Clara be nice,” both kids looked up at Clara’s mom.
“I am nice,” now she was pouting too, Clara was just trying to help Frankie not cutting off his hand while carving a pumpkin.
“Why don’t we show you how to carve that pumpkin Frankie, huh?” Clara’s mom asked. Frankie nodded and Clara ran over to them, sitting next to her mom, who had sat down next to Frankie.
“Yes, Clara?”
“Can we make a really scary pumpkin?”
Frankie nodded in agreement.
“Of course we can.”
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October 1991
“Do you have your Halloween costume?” Frankie asked as he looked at Clara sitting next to him on a bale of straw. He and Clara were hiding from their parents after they stole a pumpkin pie. A pumpkin pie that was almost eaten by now.
“I’m not sure I will be allowed to go trick and treating this year after we stole the pie.”
“It’s only a pie,” Frankie shrugged and Clara rolled her eyes before she took another spoonful.
“It’s worth it though.”
“It is.”
“So costume?”
Frankie turned his head to look at his friend.
“What’s yours?” she asked. The sun was just setting down behind her and he was wondering what this weird feeling in his belly was as he looked at her.
“Frankie?” she asked.
“Pilot. I’m going as a pilot.”
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October 1994
“You will cut your fingers off, Morales,” Clara teased and Frankie looked at her with a frown.
“Maybe I like my fingers cut off.”
“Suit yourself,” she shrugged and continued to work on her pumpkin. Frankie had agreed to help her with the pumpkins this year for her birthday next week. It wasn’t Halloween yet, but with Clara’s birthday only a week before the big day, she wanted to have her 16th birthday as her first official Halloween party.
“Do you know what you wanna do after school?” she asked Frankie after a while. They had been working in silence, well almost silence, Frankie was cursing to himself the whole time.
“Not sure. I might… I might join the military so I can be a pilot, but I’m not sure yet.”
“Oh… Okay,” Clara said, nodding slowly.
“You don’t approve?” he asked.
“What? Nooo… Uhm yes? I don’t know. It’s… You will be gone for a while then right?” she set the knife down next to the pumpkin, closing her eyes as she breathed in deeply before she looked up at Frankie.
“I’ll just miss you,” she said quietly.
Frankie got up from where he was sitting and walked over to her. They were alone at the farm today. Clara’s parents were gone to get groceries and with Frankie finally owning his own car, he was able to drive over whenever he wanted. The farm was closed today so he and Clara had spent the whole afternoon looking for the best pumpkins for her party.
Clara looked down at him as he knelt down beside her. He had changed so much in the last few years. He’d been trying to grow a beard the last months but there were some parts in his face where it just refused to grow. There was a hairless spot on his left cheek she always teased him about.
Clara was pretty sure she had a crush on her friend. Maybe she had ever since they met 9 years ago.
“I promise I’ll be back for your birthday every year,” he said.
“Promise?” she whispered. He took her hand and even though they were both sticky from carving the pumpkins she didn’t care.
“Pinky promise?” he hooked their pinkies together and she smiled a little. Frankie never wanted to make her sad. It was his best choice really. The military. He wanted to be a pilot and there was no way that he would be able to afford a pilots licence in another way.
She let her forehead fall against his and Frankie closed his eyes, feeling his heart beat faster. When he opened his eyes again he saw her looking at her. He gulped, trying to ignore the flutter in his chest as she rubbed her nose over his.
Frankie had kissed girls before. He had even slept with a girl before. His first girlfriend last year. They broke up earlier this year.
But he noticed pretty quickly that the only girl on his mind was Clara.
“Frankie…” she whispered.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered and she nodded.
Slowly he closed the distance between them until his lips were on hers.
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October 1999
Clara tried not to be sad.
She was sitting in her bedroom on her 21st birthday and tried not to be sad that her best friend, the man she was pretty sure she was in love with, the man she got her first kiss from, hadn’t written or called for almost 7 months.
She missed Frankie. Him being gone made her feel something she had never felt ever before. A constant ache in her chest she wasn’t able to work through.
Heart break. Her mother told her.
“Babe?” she breathed in deeply before she looked over her shoulder at her boyfriend, Marc. His hair was a mess and he blinked his eyes open as he looked up at her.
“It’s midnight,” she whispered. He smiled that cute tired smile she liked so much and leaned over, his arms wrapping around her naked stomach.
“Happy birthday,” he kissed her shoulder.
Thousands of miles away Frankie Morales looked at the night sky and wondered if he made the right decision as he joined the armed forces.
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October 2009
“Mommy how many houses have we left?” Clara looked at her four year old daughter Emily.
“I think only this one,” she looked around, the whole street filled with costumed kids. Emily squealed happily as she ran down the path to the last house, Clara and Marc following her with a soft smile.
“She’s getting so big so fast,” he whispered.
“I know,” she sighed. Emily was a Fairy for Halloween. It was the first time they really went out trick and treating as a family. Marc and Clara had gotten married the year before and they were happy.
“We should have another one,” he whispered, kissing her temple and she smiled.
“Maybe we should,” she whispered back.
“Can I mom?” Emily was waiting in front of the door like she was told to. Clara nodded and Emily rang the bell. The door opened moments later and Clara felt like her heart stopped beating for a moment.
“Trick or treat,” Emily whispered shyly.
Frankie forgot that it was Halloween. All he had in his house was redbull and coke. He had planned to go to the grocery store. Yesterday. Or was it the day before?
Fuck he couldn’t remember.
He just wanted it to stop. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to close his eyes and be able to sleep for a full 8 hours without seeing the faces of the people he killed. Without the noise of gunfire in his ears. He didn’t want to wake up screaming, alone. In his bed.
He wanted it to stop.
Frankie thought there was the ordered pizza at the door when he opened it. He didn’t bother getting clean clothes on, he didn’t plan on leaving the house. But when the door opened he felt like he time traveled 25 years as he looked down at the girl that looked like her. Like Clara.
“Emily, come here,” Clara said. Emily turned around walking back to her parents.
“Marc, can you take her home, I’ll meet you there,” she whispered. He searched her eyes, before he nodded and kissed her softly. She closed her eyes, looking after them before she turned around and looked at Fancisco Morales.
“I didn’t know you were back,” she said as she walked over to him. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His clothes filthy, his hair stuffed under a basecap.
Dark circles were under his way too big eyes.
“Been back for two weeks,” he said, still staring at her. She looked so different since the last time he saw her.
“You look like shit,” Clara said, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she leaned against his porch.
“Feel like shit too,” he said, not wanting to lie.
“What happened to you?”
“Why do you care?” he hissed and she took a step back like he had slapped her. Clara looked at him as the pizza got delivered. He almost threw the money at the guy who delivered it. She gave the pizza boy a little smile as he hurried back to his bike and drove off.
“Why do I care?” she asked, not looking at Frankie.
“I cried myself to sleep for months after you stopped writing or calling. You were my best friend. The boy…. You just left.”
“And now you’re throwing your happiness in my face?” Frankie almost yelled. She finally looked at him, her eyes so full of anger as she stepped on his porch.
“What was I supposed to do? Wait until you decide I was worth your time again? I fucking loved you Frankie. You were my first kiss. I wanted… Fuck I wanted all of this with you,” she felt the tears in her eyes. Fuck, why does she always cry when she’s angry?
Frankie saw her trembling in front of her. He wanted to reach out, hug her and tell her that he had been in love with her all his life. That he wanted that too, that the only thought that made his life worth living was knowing that she was out there. Living her life. Being happy. He never thought she would wait for him. But seeing her this happy with someone else was something else. And he was angry. At himself. At her. At the fucking world. Fuck his head hurt.
He shook his head, closing his eyes. Instead of saying anything he took a step back into his house and closed the door, leaving Clara standing on the other side, wondering what the hell had happened to the boy she fell in love with.
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October 2019
“Mom I think I lost my phone,” Clara turned her head towards her daughter Emily who pouted while she looked for something to write. It was the day before Halloween and the farm was full of people.
“This phone?” Clara asked, holding up her daughter's smartphone with a grin.
“Oh my god I love you,” Emily sighed, hugging Clara, who smiled.
“You still okay with looking after your brothers?”
“Sure. Dad is bringing them in an hour and then we are gonna bake some cookies.”
“That sounds like a great idea. Find me when it’s time to order dinner? I think I’ll be out the whole day.”
“Sure thing mom.”
Clara let go of her daughter, watching her walk back into the house. She was glad that she had her kids. The divorce two years ago was hard for all of them. The twins had only been three years old, not really understanding what was happening when they moved back to the farm without their Dad.
It just didn’t work out between Marc and Clara. They still loved each other, but they weren’t in love with each other.
The farm got emptier when it got close to closing time. Never in the farm's history had there been this many pumpkins sold. She was a little proud of herself. It was her first full year after taking over the farm.
“Excuse me?” she looked up and found a man standing in front of her. Clara smiled a little.
“Can I help you?”
“I hope so. Do you have a first aid kit?”
Frankie couldn’t even look as fast as his daughter Tina had fallen down on her knees. Of course she managed to fall to the only part of the ground that wasn’t covered by hay. He had picked his little princess up as she cried, her left knee bleeding a little. He knew it was mostly the scare of falling from the straw bale that made her cry but he still felt his heart break a little. Santiago had run off towards the farm immediately to check for a first aid kit.
Frankie didn’t know why he was here. Maybe it was because he was hoping to run into Clara. To apologize. Maybe it was because whenever he thought back to his childhood, this farm was what came to his mind immediately and he wanted this for his daughter too. She was only three years old but his parents told him that he had been here for the first time when he was just 5 months old, so three years old was a good age to start.
Tina quietly sobbed into his shirt as he rubbed over her back soothingly. So many things had happened since he found out he would be a father. He got clean, he got married, he let his best friend talk into taking a job in Colombia that was still haunting him, he got divorced, he got full custody of his little girl.
He got the life he had dreamed of all these years ago. All that was missing was….
“Here you go. Brought the first aid kit and the owner,” he heard Santiago say before he turned around and looked into Clara’s eyes.
She blinked at him, like he would disappear the longer she looked before she shook her head and looked at Tina in his arms.
“She fell on her knees. I think we need a band aid,” Frankie said. They both didn’t see Santiago looking at the whole exchange with a little grin on his lips.
“Oh no. Can I take a look…?”
“Tina. Her name is Tina,” Frankie said and Clara nodded.
“Can I take a look, Tina?” she asked. Clara was fighting against the urge to just walk away. She didn’t think she would see Frankie ever again, let alone with his daughter in his arms.
“Okay,” Tina mumbled. Clara stepped closer, her hands on Tina’s leg.
“I think we need to clean this so it doesn’t get infected,” she said, more to herself than to anyone.
“Let me just take her home and…” Frankie said, seeing Clara shook her head.
“Nonsense. Just… get up the stairs, Emily is there. I’ll be right with you,” Clara gave Tina a little smile before she took the first aid kit and turned away from them, almost running back towards the house.
“Jeez, man you really fucked up with her, didn’t you?” Santiago whispered as Frankie began to follow her, knowing where he had to go from all those years ago. Frankie just shook his head, his heart beating faster in his chest.
Clara closed her eyes as she leaned against the wall next to her door. She could hear Frankie and Emily talk inside her house. When she woke up this morning the last thing she would have suspected was Frankie coming here. She never really thought she would see him again. Clara had heard what happened to him. The drugs, losing his job, the divorce. And everytime she wanted to reach out to him, she saw his face in front of her all those years ago when she told him that she loved him.
“I fell on my knees all the time when I was smaller. That’s totally normal. I swear,” Emily was kneeling in front of Tina who was sitting on Frankie’s lap. She had helped Frankie clean Tina’s knee and had just put a unicorn band aid on her knee.
“Yeah?” Tina asked, who had finally stopped to sob. Emily nodded just when there was yelling from upstairs and Frankie saw Emily roll her eyes.
“Brothers. Wait here, Mom should be here any moment,” Emily said. Frankie nodded at her, still fascinated by how much she looked like her mother. The door behind him opened and Clara walked in.
“Where did you leave your friend?”
“He has a date, had to leave,” Frankie said. Clara nodded as she walked into the kitchen, seeing it in chaos. Chuckling to herself she stole one of the cookies that her kids had baked.
“You want a cookie?” she asked. Tina nodded with big eyes and Frankie smiled and nodded too. Clara handed them both a cookie, giving her and Frankie some time to look at each other while Tina chewed on her cookie. He looked better. No circles under his eyes. He wasn’t as thin as he was back the last time she saw him. He… He looked good. Really good.
Frankie was just thinking about how beautiful Clara looked at this moment.
He was about to open his mouth to say something when footsteps rumbled down the stairs and two blonde boys almost jumped on Clara with a loud Mommy!
And Clara laughed, her whole face lighting up and fuck Frankie wanted nothing more than to be the reason for it.
“Did you have fun with Dad?” she asked and the boys nodded.
“He took us to buy candy for Halloween.”
“How much did you eat?”
“Not that much?”
Clara shook her head with a smile.
“Okay, who wants to watch boss baby while we wait for dinner?” Emily asked and the boys jumped excited.
“Can I, Daddy?” Tina asked and looked up at Frankie. He looked at Clara who nodded at him.
“Do you guys want to stay for dinner?” she asked.
“Can we have pizza?” Tina asked and Frankie laughed.
“You had pizza for lunch.”
“Pizza,” Tina pouted and Clara saw the exact moment Frankie Morales broke down and nodded. Tina kissed his cheek before she climbed down his lap and followed the boys and Emily to the living room.
“You look better,” Clara said with an expression he couldn’t name.
“I’m so sorry for what happened. I was in a very dark place. I was…”
“On drugs. Yeah. I know.”
“Small towns huh?” Frankie shook his head to himself, looking down at his lap only to look up when he felt her hands on top of his on the table.
“You know I could have been there for you. You were my best friend.”
“I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. I’m… It’s not only the drugs. Everything that happened since the day I left is haunting me. Therapy helps a lot but fuck it’s hard,” he said quietly.
“You don’t have to tell me now. Just know that I’m here for you. Because…” Clara breathed in deeply, “Because I missed you. So much. I miss my best friend. I… I meant what I said when I told you that I wanted all of this with you. Well, in the best case without a divorce because that’s something I don’t want to experience again. Just… fuck this is hard,” she shook her head and sat across from him on the bench. She was still holding his hand.
“I missed you too. More than you will ever know. And I am sorry. I really am. Let’s just… get to know each other again?” he asked hopefully.
“I would like that,” she smiled at him and Frankie could almost feel the weight that had been pulling him down all those years lifted off from his chest.
It was almost 10 pm by the time Frankie was carrying Tina into his car, carefully sitting her down in her carseat and strapping her in.
Clara smiled softly as she watched Frankie with his daughter before he carefully shut the door and turned towards her.
“I… I really loved this. Us. Your kids are so well behaved I wish we were like that,” he joked and Clara laughed.
“I learned from our mistakes, Morales,” she winked.
He wanted to kiss her. So badly. She looked like a goddess in the moonlight and all he wanted to do was hold her. Clara bit her lips nervously as she looked at Frankie. Carefully she reached up and took his cap off, setting it down on the hood of his car, before she let her fingers wander through his soft hair. He closed his eyes, enjoying the light touch. Clara stepped closer and Frankie opened his eyes, one of his hands cupping her cheek.
“I learned from my mistakes too,” he whispered before he leant down to kiss her.
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October 2021
“Stay here,” Frankie said and Clara groaned.
“But I’m bored. I wanna help.”
“You can come out later. Let me handle it.”
“I’ll help too,” Emily said as she suddenly appeared next to Frankie.
“See? We can do it. You gotta relax, baby,” Frankie smiled as he leaned down to kiss Clara on her forehead.
“Ugh I hate this.”
“Hey there are worse ways than spending the day playing princess and watching Disney movies,” Frankie said.
“But it’s Halloween and there’s pumpkins and…”
“And we will celebrate Halloween later. But right now you gotta take care of this little pumpkin,” Frankie’s hand rested on Clara’s way to big belly. She was eight months pregnant. With twins. At the age of 42. Though she felt like 80 nowadays.
“Does that mean you think I’m fat?” she asked, lips trembling and she could see Emily grin to herself behind Frankie who looked like a fish out of the water.
“No. Oh my god no. You don’t. I call you pumpkin all the time. And now you’re a bigger pumpkin….”
“Oh my god Frankie,” Emily laughed behind him and walked out of the room. Frankie looked like he wanted to die right this moment and Clara had mercy on him, laughing out loudly.
“You’re evil,” Frankie pouted as he realized she had only teased him before he leaned down and kissed her. A real kiss that stole her breath and made her dizzy.
“You’re just too easy to tease,” she grinned against his lips. He kissed her again.
“I’ll see you for lunch, okay?”
“I love you,” he kissed her once more before he got up and kissed her belly.
“And I love you two, too.”
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sadiebwrites · 2 days ago
Broken Threads master-post
So I just noticed my very first fanfic is now over 20k hits!! So I'm finally making a post with some links to art and other goodies, to celebrate. ❤️
Here are links to the series:
Broken Threads (Part 1 of the series of the same name)
Game Night on Bogano (interlude between parts 1 & 2)
Chasing the Dawn (Part 2, currently in progress!)
Art and things:
Check out this playlist that a reader made!
And here's some awesome fan art!
I made a few illustrations myself, and I'm going to try to do more later: Luke and Leia on Endor, Luke in carbonite, and a very rough sketch comic of a scene on Ossus.
And lastly, I created my own covers inspired by old Legends novels' cover art:
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The battle is over, the rebels have won. But Luke Skywalker is still reeling from his ordeal in the Emperor's throne room, both physically and emotionally. Wracked with pain and fatigue, he tries to recuperate on Endor with a few days of much-needed rest. But before he even has a chance to relax, he's captured by an enterprising bounty hunter in Mandalorian armor.
Din Djarin can't believe his luck. It's the score of his life, the bounty they all said was impossible. The payout will set his Tribe up well... so long as they don't know exactly who he made a deal with. But the job turns out to be more than Din bargained for when his bounty collapses from mysterious injuries, and he must face the truth of the horrors the Empire has wrought.
Now, on the run from half the galaxy, it's a race against time as Din helps Luke find a cure for the disease that's slowly breaking the hero apart. There's only one problem... they need a Jedi. And Luke is the last of his kind.
Or is he?
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thesirenbanshee · 2 days ago
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“Chapter 3” is up! 😽
TITLE: Accidentally on Purpose
RATING: Explicit
“Kylo Ren has served as loyal bodyguard and mentor to galactic princess Rey Palpatine ever since she was a little girl. But now she’s come of age, and her grandfather wants her to marry and continue the Palpatine line . . . If only her suitors would stop accidentally dying.”
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middleearthpixie · a day ago
More Than Meets the Eye ~ Chapter Eleven
Author's Note: Because @i-did-not-mean-to and @linasofia asked and I love them both, here is another chapter... Enjoy!
Summary: Arielle’s secret is out, but it’s not exactly a bad thing…
Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield/Arielle (Elen) Farran (female OC)
Characters: Arielle, Thorin, Dis
Rating: M
Warnings: A bit of foreplay
Word Count: 3,932
Khuzdal Translation: Kunbûnaul - son of a bitch
Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @ocfairygodmother @exhausted-humxn-being
Want to be added to the tag list? Just let me know!!
Previous chapters can be found here and all of my works can be found on AO3 as well!
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Arielle was going to faint.
Her knees actually started to buckle and it was only through sheer will that she remained upright.
Well, that and Thorin’s fist tightening about her upper arm.
Her blood roared through her head, pounded through her temples hard enough to make black dots dance before her eyes. Five days. She’d made through five days before being caught.
“I ca-can explain,” she told him, trying to pull her arm free to no avail.
“Then do so.”
“Elen is my brother and Lady Dis did hire him, but he and his friend Karl were up to some sort of tomfoolery the night before he was supposed to come here and somehow he wound up with a barrel dropping on his hand, which broke it and since he couldn’t very well arrive at your doorstep as a one-handed valet, he asked me if I would cover for him by pretending to be him, which I told him was a terrible idea, but as he said, he needed the work and we needed the money and it would only be for six weeks, which didn’t seem so terribly long when I agreed to this madness, and I never thought it would take you but five days to figure it all out and—”
To her horror, Thorin clapped a hand over her mouth. “Enough! I should’ve known this would happen.”
His hand was so massive, that not only did he cover her mouth, but her nose and her chin as well, which made breathing difficult. At first, she didn’t move, but then began to feel dizzy, and so jerked back to suck in a hard breath. “It was not our plan to deceive you for any reason other than Elen really needs this position and we really needed the money. Our rents were raised yet again and neither one of us makes even close to enough to cover it on our own. His becoming your valet was what we needed, as you offered him a generous wage.” She clasped her hands together, digging her fingernails into the opposite palms to keep from rambling on again. “And as soon as his hand healed, we would switch back to our true selves. And no one here would be the wiser.”
“So, Arielle in Dale was—”
“Elen,” she broke in softly, her heart hammering her ribs. Any moment and he would have her bodily tossed from Erebor. “And I am Arielle. The true Arielle.”
“You’re the widowed old crone?” He arched one heavy brow.
Heat swept through her. “Not the widowed part, no. But the rest… entirely possible.”
“You’re far too young to be a crone of any sort.” He stepped back, unfolding his arms as he moved to sink onto the edge of his bed. “But, that leave us with a bit of a problem here, doesn’t it?”
“I can still do what a valet does, just as I have been.”
To her horror, Thorin’s brow crept higher and a smirk lifted his lips. “You’ve seen me naked. More than once.”
Heat swept through her like a raging forest fire. “I won’t breathe a word of that to anyone. No one ever need know.”
“I know.”
The heat worsened. “Yes, but… I won’t say anything to anyone and if you don’t, either, what matter is it?”
“What matter is it? You washed me. You washed my hair. You—” He stopped, drew in a deep breathe, and exhaled slowly before adding, “You should not have done those things for me. You cannot be here.”
“No one else knows. And I am not about to say anything to anyone.” She was on the verge of pleading, no, she actually was pleading, but she didn’t care. If she lost Elen’s position for him, she was, in effect, putting them out on the streets. Panic rose in a mighty wave. “I will not tell anyone and I can continue to do all the things I was doing, although I don’t suppose I could help you with your bath any longer, but I can still wash your hair if you have trouble with your arm, although the healer will be able to fix that soon and—oh!” She clapped her hands over her mouth, which muffled her, “I am sorry.”
The bed creaked softly as he rose and came to stand before her. Shaking his head, he said, “I cannot allow you to do any of those things, Ele—er, Arielle. You need understand that.”
She barely heard him over the roar of blood through her ears again. “If you sack me,” she managed, hands clenched once more, “we will lose our home. And that is not a lie.”
“Arielle…” He folded his arms as he peered down at her. “I cannot—”
“You can if no one else knows. And I certainly am not about to tell anyone.” Without thinking, she let her hands come to rest on his massive forearms. “Everyone believes me to be Elen. Only you and I know the truth and—”
“They will all figure it out eventually.”
“I only have to keep pretending for five weeks. Then I can go home and Elen can come here and no one will ever know.”
He glanced down at her hands, which looked even smaller curved over his thick forearms, and then lifted his gaze back to hers. She held that gaze, trying to will him into seeing it her way. “Please,” she whispered, her throat tightening, “no one will know. I will not give myself away. I promise you I won’t.”
A thick, uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Her heart hammered so hard, those pesky black dots were back and her breath was almost impossible to catch.
“Ele—“ A sheepish smile lifted the corners of his lips—“Arielle, you have to see why it is a terrible idea.”
“I do, of course, but I also know how important it is that you don’t sack me. Elen is useless with only one hand and if he just shows up here now, that will really raise questions. No one will know I’m not fully attending you. As far as anyone here is concerned, I am every bit the valet.”
“As you dress and undress me?” he asked pointedly.
“I’ll close my eyes.”
“And call me Elen. You know me as that and it will keep you from slipping as well.”
He said nothing and her hopes rose. But then, he slowly shook his head. “It’s a terrible idea and I think it best of you take your leave.”
“You should not even be here now,” he caught the bottom of his tunic, “and you need to leave, as I need to change for supper.”
He lifted his arms to yank off the tunic, and she jumped at the low, “Kunbûnaul!” that followed his attempt to raise his right arm.
Without thinking, she stepped up to him, caught the tunic and lowered it. He emerged back through the neck hole, and as the backs of her fingers brushed his sides, his breath hitched.
She tugged the tunic about his hips. “See? You need my help. Let me stay on.”
“Arielle,” his voice emerged as a husky whisper, “this is not a good idea at all.”
“And look at that. You even got my name right.”
He caught her by the wrists to draw her hands from his tunic. The moment he touched her, the air did that odd crackle around them again and she was positive she felt sparks race along her arms when his fingers folded about her wrists. He made no move to release her, and perhaps it was but her imagination, but she’d swear his eyes darkened.
“Your Highness,” she whispered, her belly churning as his thumbs brushed the backs of hers.
He seemed to loom over her, all broad shoulders and barrel chest, and hints of fresh air, sunshine, and leather teased her senses. Her mouth went dry as his eyes did indeed darken until they were almost sapphire.
Then he bent toward her. His lips were every bit as soft as she’d imagined as they came upon hers. Her first kiss and it was every bit as wonderful as she’d imagined. Her eyes closed. His lips caressed hers lightly, warm and soft. His beard was slightly scratchy against her chin and around her mouth, but she didn’t mind that so much. He released one hand, slid that arm about her waist, and tugged, drawing her flush against him.
He deepened his kiss, the tip of his tongue brushing against her lips. Startled, she opened her eyes only to see his still closed, and closed hers once more as she then parted her lips.
Her toes curled as his tongue slid between her lips, as it slid silkily along hers. He wasn’t shy, he didn’t hesitate, but instead teased her tongue with his, all the while the hand on her back splayed against her and the hand holding hers slowly rose to guide her arm about his neck before he lowered it to wrap that arm about her as well.
She, who had never been kissed before, didn’t even know one did this when they kissed. It should seem revolting to her, and yet… there was absolutely nothing revolting about it at all. Instead, it did something wicked to her, made her heart beat a little faster, her blood rush a little hotter, made her almost ache to see what other things he could make her feel.
But, she also wanted to make him feel things—things that fired his blood and aroused his desire, and she wasn’t exactly sure what those things might be, but there was one way to find out. So, she parted her lips wider, her breath hitching as he drew her tongue back into his mouth now, as his arms tightened about her.
As he backed her flush against the wall, his kiss coming deeper and hungrier. She welcomed his weight as he pressed hard against her. The apartment felt so much warmer now, her tunic confining and heavy with the heat that swirled thorough her. He carefully eased a thick, muscled thigh between hers and she gasped into his mouth. She couldn’t help it, for when he brushed up between her legs, fire shot through her with the force of a lightning bolt. On their own, her hips rolled slowly toward him, and the fire intensified. It spread through her, billowy and hot and strangely sweet and she had to make it last, had to feel it again and again, for the pleasure grew sweeter each time.
The fire nibbled at her insides, scorching everything it touched. Deep within her core, knots slowly tightened, uncomfortable and sensual at the same time. She wanted to touch him, practically burned to feel his skin bare against hers. Her hands slid down over his chest, to the bottom of his tunic, and when she tugged, he pulled far enough away to let the fabric skim up. Mindful of his sore shoulder, she carefully eased it over his head and down that arm.
He didn’t halt her, but instead wrapped his arms tighter about her. Pressed harder against her.
He broke the kiss, sweeping those gentle lips along the side of her neck, down into the slope of her shoulder. His beard on her suddenly too-sensitive skin made her shiver, it was soft and coarse at the same time, each caress as sweet as his kisses.
Her tunic went next and he didn’t so much as flinch as he yanked it over her head, and his eyes were like smoked sapphires as his gaze went to strips of linen wound about her chest. “That’s where your curves went,” he murmured between kisses as he moved down toward the top of those bandages.
“I don’t have much in the way of curves,” she managed to whisper, her eyes closing once more as he moved along the top wrap.
“I’m certain they are just fine,” came his heated reply, and she bit down on her bottom lip, waiting for him to work the knot holding the bandages together open, to unwind them. How would it feel when those immense hands cupped her breasts, when he kneaded them? She wanted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to her, but hesitated. Would that put him off, if she was to be so bold? How was she supposed to know?
But he didn’t move toward the knot. Instead, his left hand grazed along her ribs, slid inward, and she stiffened as his thumb brushed the hard bead of her nipple, the only part of her breast that wasn’t flattened. The tingle that tore through her was sharp and sweet and stole her breath as he did it again, then slowly circled the bead. Her head spun. Fire filled her. A slow, delicious ache took root deep in her core, and her hips moved of their own once more against his thigh.
Her eyes didn’t wish to remain open as he swept a kiss over her breastbone, so she let them close, just savored the feel of his lips against her. His hair swept along her cheek, along her shoulder, down her arm. His bare skin came warm upon hers as he came back up, as he flattened against her once more and seized her lips with his. The crisp, thick hair on his chest tickled her, teased her, went from unfamiliar to absolutely pleasurable in one heartbeat. His hips pressed against hers and as he arched harder into her, her eyes snapped open. Something poked her, just above where a slow, deep ache took root inside her.
A delicious jolt tore through her as she realized what it was.
He was hard.
He wanted her.
And that was fine because she wanted him just as much.
Curiosity got the best of her, so she slid one hand down, curved it against that bulge in his trousers. The breath left his body in a mighty rush, a low groan wafted into the air. Emboldened, she reached for the button on those trousers.
The button slid through its loop. The second one did as well. She inched beneath the thick fabric, her heart racing at top speed now. His skin was hot. Below his navel, her fingertips brushed a narrow trail of coarse hair. That narrow trail widened, thickened. The heat wafting from him was unlike any she’d ever felt and he shivered as she just grazed him. Any moment, and she would touch… it…
She found him.
Mahal… he is amazing!
“Arielle…” He purred her name against her lips, his breath a heated whisper against them. He actually shivered against her as she caressed him. Shivered and whispered something in a tongue she didn’t understand.
She inched further, tracing along him with only the tips of her fingers. They caressed along his length, curled about him, and slowly eased him—
“Thorin? Are you there?” Lady Dis called, rapping on the door.
Thorin jerked away from her, his face flushed, his eyes mostly pupil now, his breath ragged and raw as he caught her by the wrist, pulled free of her grip, and gritted, “I’ll be out in a moment, Dis.”
Arielle fought to control her own breathing even as disappointment welled up within her. It blended with unspent desire and hot arousal to make her scowl as Thorin repositioned himself, refastened his trousers, then reached for his tunic.
“And this is why you cannot stay here,” he growled, wincing as he tugged the tunic on once more.
She bit down on her bottom lip as she crouched to retrieve her own tunic. Her cheeks were on fire, and arousal had less to do with it than utter embarrassment did. “Your High—”
He swept past her, out into the front room, and she heard the door open, wincing at his curt, “Yes?”
“Do you have a moment?”
“A moment for what?”
“I was talking to Belle and she said your valet was terribly rude to her earlier. She asked him for a favor and he told her no. Without consulting you, I’ll have you know.”
Arielle, who had been wrestling to get back into her tunic, froze, waiting to hear Thorin’s explanation. She pressed herself flat against the wall, her heart finally resuming its normal pace, her blood cooling as she tugged the tunic over her head.
Thorin sighed. “What Miss Caisys asked for was out of line and I’m glad Elen told her no. He was in no way in the wrong.”
“Out of line? What could she possibly have asked?”
“Nothing you need worry about, just know it was inappropriate and Elen did not need my permission to answer.”
“Thorin, what did she ask of him?”
“Nothing you need worry about just know it was out of line and I have no issue with Elen telling her no. He’s already been to see me about it, so the matter is settled.
“Wait… did it have something to do with you?”
“Dis, she approached my valet. What do you think it had to do with?”
A brief silence, then Dis said, “Oh! She wanted to… oh, my…”
“Oh, well, I suppose there is no problem at all, then. She neglected to tell me exactly what it was she asked Elen. But, she certainly seemed upset enough that I thought perhaps Elen was rude to her.”
Arielle scowled. I’ll just bet she was upset. Harlot.
“I don’t believe he was, no. He simply told her no.” Arielle could almost hear the shrug in his voice.
“Then I suppose I should go back above.” A brief pause, then Dis asked, “Is everything all right? You look… flushed.”
Arielle grinned now, once more waiting to hear Thorin’s explanation. She tugged her tunic back down and smoothed the wrinkled bottom.
“I’m fine. And everything is fine as well. I was just getting ready to come up to supper is all.” A low sigh floated toward Arielle and her scowl returned as he added, “And I will not hold Miss Caisys’ request against her. She probably simply did not stop to think.”
“Fair enough, although perhaps I should have a word with her about it.”
“Not necessary. Now, go on up and I’ll be along in a few minutes.”
“Very well.” The door opened, fabric swished, then it closed and Arielle breathed a sigh of relief.
Of course, that relief was short-lived, for when Thorin returned, his eyes were stormy and he looked furious. “This should not have happened, Elen,” he growled, storming past her to the wardrobe. “And this is exactly why you cannot remain here. It was awkward when I thought you a boy and I thought you were going to kiss me in the bath the other morning, but this is worse. It’s far worse.”
So he had felt the tension that morning. Arielle wanted to smack herself in the forehead for her foolishness that morning, but Thorin initiated their actual kiss, so, why he was angry at her was beyond her.
“Wait… you kissing me is somehow my fault?”
He strode to the wardrobe and jerked open the door. “I did not say it was.”
“And yet, you want me to leave.”
“No!” He slammed the door shut without taking anything out and whipped about to stare her down. “That’s the problem, Elen. I don’t want you to leave. But—”
She held his stare easily, even as her gut churned like mad. “But what?”
“This.” He gestured to her and then to him. “It cannot happen. I’ve already told you why.”
She shrugged. “So it won’t happen. I understand your custom is important to you and you would see this completely different from how I would. I will only be here for another five weeks and then you’ll have my brother and all will be right in your world.”
She tried to keep her words, her voice, as offhanded as possible, but inside, all she wanted to do was launch herself at him again, to pull him down to meet her kiss and to see where it led. A sidelong glance at the bed gave her the answer. She wanted to know what it would be like with him, wanted to see him as he was that morning in his bath—solid and muscled and absolutely perfect. She wanted him to be the first man she was with, because she had the feeling he would be everything she dreamed him to be.
She was no fool. She knew there could be no future. He was the king and she was a nobody. Unless Elen married, she would most likely never do so, either. She would care for him for the rest of her days and if that was to be her fate, so be it. But, if it meant she didn’t have to worry about preserving her virginity, why should she? And besides, her mother had always told them if they found someone desirable, they should never be ashamed of that, should never be ashamed of anything they did with a man or woman they cared for, that it was all perfectly natural and expressing love was never wrong, whether a couple was married or not.
Her gaze slid back to Thorin. He would be the only man and that was fine with her. She wanted but one night with him. If she could get him to forget about what he’d been taught to believe where lovemaking was concerned. And that was a big if. A huge if. Possibly an insurmountable if.
He let out a heavy sigh, leaning against the low chest across from his bed, looking very much like a man at war with himself. “I should say no,” he told her after a long, thick silence, “because it is a terrible idea.”
Her hopes rose. “But…”
He folded his arms, wincing as he did so. “I need your help, much as I hate to admit it.”
She cocked her head and grinned in spite of his glower. “Trying to win me over with flattery, are you?”
It was risky, as he did look almost angry still. But then, he sighed, and shook his head. “I have the feeling I am going to live to regret this.”
“Perhaps.” She took a deep breath and moved over to stand before him. “But, you may not as well.”
“Elen,” he leveled a long look at her, “you have to keep your distance and I must keep mine.”
“I know.”
She let her hand come to rest on his chest. The air crackled around them once more. Her breath became harder to catch as she held his gaze for a long moment. His hand came up, covered hers, and he shook his head. “No. This cannot happen.”
“I know. You need to finish dressing for supper, remember?” She pushed up on her toes and leaned in to brush his cheek with her lips. “Your sister is waiting for you.”
“Don’t remind me.” He stepped away from her, breaking the contact, and as he did, she moved to the wardrobe to lay out the clothes he’d need. The way he’d kissed her only minutes earlier, the way he’d reacted to her touch, emboldened her to a certain extent. Somehow, she’d find a way to crack through the wall he kept himself behind, and when she did, Thorin Oakenshield would wonder how it was he never saw it coming.
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storyofmychoices · a day ago
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[Assorted Character Masterlist]
Pairing: Cianán x F!Reader (no race or body type given) Words: ~1.8K words Rating: explicit (18+ Only) T/W: begging, dom/sub dynamic, whips/mild pain, bondage, mention of a (preexisting) scar, mentions of impending character death Prompt: For @misskinkywrites Kinktober: begging (day 15)
Summary: You finally get to spend a night with Cianán and he's determined to make the most of it.
A/N: This is inspired by the most recent date with the character in the game. Cianán is a dullahan, a dark fae/headless horseman.
"a ghrà" is Irish for love/my love
By clicking through to keep reading you agree to be 18 years or older. Minors DNI, please.
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You press your fingers to your lips, tempering your smile when you catch sight of his once opposing silhouette in the shadows of the forest. His tattered red cloak billows in the chilly breeze. You shiver in response, before continuing forward, toward Cianán, knowing that despite your name being on his execution list, there was nowhere on earth safer than in his arms.
The man, who once insisted he had no feelings for you and never could, softens in your presence. His cold, icy eyes melt upon seeing your approach. The joy etched on his features at your mere presence betrayed any words to the contrary he had ever uttered.
He rushes forward only too eagerly, pausing just a breath away. He bows his head, taking a step back. He reaches for your hand, lifting it to his lips. "My beautiful, a ghrà. Thank ye for comin'."
Your breath catches as he tenderly brushes a kiss across your knuckles, such an innocent gesture, and yet, it set something inside of you ablaze. Your pulse races. "I will always come when you ask, Cianán. I'm not afraid of you." You lift your hand to cradle his face, your thumb gingerly caressing his cheek. "I care for you deeply and trust you implicitly."
"Ye shouldn't."
"And yet, I do." You step closer, closing the gap once more. "Whilst though offer me a kiss of your affection?"
As if answering your question, his gaze traces your lips, and the corners of his lips pull up at your request.
"Well?" You have little time to process before his commanding arms draw you in. You exhale at the sudden movement before inhaling his woodsy scent as his lips claim a stake on yours. Your eyes close, letting yourself dissolve into his embrace.
He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off of the ground as his joy overtakes him. He spins you gleefully; his kisses continue unceasingly.
You wonder how long it's been since his last kiss. You feel a fire burn in the pit of your stomach, not only with desire but also of jealousy at the thought of another's lips on his. The worry is short-lived as he lowers your feet to the ground, kissing down your jaw and to your neck, giving you a moment to catch your breath.
Your head spins, growing foggier as his touch intoxicates you. Heat of your desire engulfs you in its delicious flames. Your fingers thread through his hair, your grasp tightening with each impassioned kiss.
His teeth graze your throat, a low growl rumbling on your tender flesh.
"Perhaps we should continue this somewhere else?" He murmurs in your ear.
You nod, unable to find words to respond.
He wraps his cloak around you, and in a flash, the calm, lush forest shifts to the dark, dimly lit stone chamber of his home.
Your head rushes, and you feel a chill creep up your spine.
"Are ye alright?" He holds you steadily, shrugging apologetically at the surroundings. "'Tis not the most comfortable of lodgin's."
Your initial discomfort fades quickly as your gaze settles back on him. "It's perfect."
His hope-filled smile sets your heart aflutter. "Of course, it's yours, and you are all I need."
"Then shall we take advantage of this moment together?"
"I'm yours, Cianán," you offer softly.
"'Tis true?" His words are quiet, his tone questioning. "Ye will have me?"
You nod, looking down, suddenly bashful in his presence. "Yes. I want you."
He steps forward, curling his finger beneath your chin to lift your face to his. His eyes darken, and a devilish smile grows on his features.
You lick your lips, heat blossoming through you. You throw your arms around his neck, his kisses resuming with increased fervor.
His strong hands caress your curves keeping you pressed against him as his attention shifts from your lips down your neck and back again.
"May I?" His hands finally settle on your pants.
"Yes," you breathe, breathless already. You kiss him once more as his hands make quick work of your clothing, leaving you bare.
He steps back, tracing your figure in adoration. "A ghrà, ye are breathtakin'."
You fight the sudden urge to cover yourself at his dominating gaze. "I hope you want to do more than look." You chew the corner of your lower lip, your eyes widening in a pout.
"Aye." His voice is deep and gravelly. "But ye said you like when I take control." His brow quirks as if confirming your previous words before offering you his hand.
You take it, and he leads you to his bed. It's small and plain, but you have no complaints. You'd lay on a bed of pine needles and thistles if it meant being with him.
"Lay down," he commands. "Show me ye self."
You oblige, spreading yourself out on the stiff mattress. The cool, damp air dances over your body, leaving you feeling more exposed as he towers over you. You watch the rise and fall of your chest as his fingers trace down your form at a painstaking pace. Your body arches at the slightest touch, desperate for more, but he always pulls back, not letting you have what you crave.
He removes his shirt and moves across the room, returning with a curious whip in his grasp.
"Is that—" Your heart skips a beat recognizing the set of bones that make up the vertebrae of a human spine. Your breath quickens as you reason with yourself. Of course, it's a human spine. No doubt from one of his victims. It could be yours in a different version of events. The myths about dullahan flash through your thoughts. However, as quickly as your focus was taken by it, it returns at the commanding sound of his voice.
"What?" The flustered word slips from your lips.
He traces the whip across your stomach, teasing you. "I want ye to beg fer me."
His wrist flicks swiftly, and the whip cracks softly on your skin.
Your head rushes with warmth. You couldn't believe what was happening. Your throat goes dry, and your words catch in your throat. "Cianán, I —"
"What's that, a ghrà?" The whip licks across your thighs, and the warmth flooding you crashes to your core at the sensation. A soft moan slips out at the unexpected pleasure.
"I need you." Your words are a quiet cry as you attempt to focus on him, but your gaze shifts to the growing bulge in his pants.
"Is that all ye got?" The whip cracks loudly through the air, thundering through the cavernous chamber, the sound reminiscent of snapping bone, both unsettling and tempting at the same time. He moves it across your torso, the bones licking your skin with a pleasing sting.
You squirm desperately for more but are only met with another swing of the whip, your thoughts clouding.
"Stay still," he insists. His lips curl, watching you unable to control your body as pain and pleasure course through you at his command.
"Please, Cianán," Your lip quivers at the imposing sight of him. "I need you." You swallow hard. "I need you. Please... please, please," each word becoming more and more desperate.
His face remains unchanging as you continue begging. Your eyes begin to well as your core burns for attention. The whip teases and tempts you until the only thought you have is of him. Your core burned desperately, slick and waiting. "I need all of you. Take me. I'm yours, Cianán."
"Yes, ye are, dear one." He slips his pants off, smirking as he catches the direction of your gaze. "Say it, again."
"I'm yours."
He springs up on the bed, straddling your hips and pinning your arms above your head. "Mine." He kisses you firmly, taking control of your mouth, mapping every part. Each movement of his tongue claims a part of you. You are his.
You try to move your hands, but you're no match for his strength.
"Nuh-uh," he clicks his tongue. Effortlessly, he wraps the whip around your wrists, tying you to the headboard.
His fingers trail down your arm and across your chest.
"All mine," he teases, drawing his finger across your torso, tracing the red remnants of his whip.
You buck your hips into him, desperate for contact. Anything. You didn't care what. You needed more. "More. Please!"
"More what?" He seems to delight in your growing desperation.
He lowers his lips to your breast, humming his appreciation as he takes you into his mouth. His tongue swirls and flicks, teasing your already harden peak.
Your moans build until you whimper upon his release, only to throw your head back as he switches sides.
"Please, Cianán," you moan uncontrollably. "I can't take this. I need you."
"Ye can take what I give when I choose to give it," he bites at your nipple, drawing out a cry as your head rushed in pleasure. "I could leave ye here for me to feast upon lat'r."
His brow rose, a devilish smirk pulling at his lips as his hand caresses your inner thigh.
"No! Please no, Cianàn. Please. I need you," you continue begging, unable to control yourself. Your ceaseless whimpers only seem to further spur him on.
"Please, what?"
"Please take me—" Your voice rises into a scream when his thumb brushes over your swollen pearl. Your vision blurs, a deep moan vibrating on your lips.
"What was that, a ghrà?"
You buck into his hand, desperate to create more friction. "Please. Take me. I need you, now." Tears glisten in your eyes, your body has never felt more on edge and alive than under his command.
"As you wish." He groans deeply, burying his full length inside of you in one fluid movement.
Your eyes close, and you throw your head back. Your body burns as your walls stretch to accommodate him. Every nerve endings alights, sending jolts of pleasure sparking through your body like your own personal fireworks display.
He keeps a firm hand on your hips, grunting as he thrusts in and out in a steady, mindnumbing rhythm.
"Y/N," he moans as your walls begin to clench around him.
A flash of light pulls your attention, and your eyes pop open. The light emanating from the scar surrounding his neck glows brilliantly, brighter than you'd ever seen before. Your mouth opens in utter adoration. He was magnificent in every way, and you were hopelessly in love with the man tasked with killing you. But, there was nothing you could do to keep yourself from him. This—him—every part of him—you needed him. Your body longed to be one with him. Like this. Together. Forever.
"Cianán," you cry as his pace increases and your body arches in reply.
"Y/N! A ghrà!!" He moans as the two of you reach a high together.
The chambers fill with a melody of your combined pleasures.
Your head spins, and you feel dizzy, your body still soaring in ecstasy.
He kisses you softly. His lips feel like they are everywhere all at once. Your body melts into his touch. You have never felt so light and sated before.
You focus on catching your breath as he releases your hands, kissing the red marks the whip had caused.
You curl into him, trying to ground yourself back in the present.
The flames of light around his scar are fainter now but still flickered in the dimly lit room. You mindlessly caress his neck, brushing kisses across his scar. It calms you for some reason you can't understand.
Your breathing shallows as he holds you in his arms. His fingers soothingly thread through your hair and down your spine.
You close your eyes, laying your head on his chest. The sound of an Irish melody lulls you safely to rest in his arms. You don't need to understand the words, for the intent and devotion behind them to leave a faint smile on your lips as you slip safely to sleep.
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A/N 2: I really love him, okay?!
A/N 3: Sorry for any typos or mistakes. I literally just wrote this in one mad burst of energy and did not edit it or revise it in anyway. 🙈
Thank you so much for reading. I truly appreciate it and hope you enjoyed it.
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neil-gaiman · 3 months ago
Do you consider fanfiction legitimate writing?
I won the 2004 Hugo Award for Best Short Story for an H. P. Lovecraft /Arthur Conan Doyle mashup fiction, so fanfiction had better be legitimate, because I'm not giving the Hugo back.
Or the 20O5 Locus Award for Best Novelette. I'm not giving that back either.
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dean-samw67 · 2 days ago
Keep Quiet
Front Man x Wife F! Reader
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Warnings ⚠️⚠️: Smut, public sex, unprotected sex
Words: 1219
The Front Man's Wife. That's all I was really known as. I didn't have a special name. I wasn't special like that. I didn't contribute to much except being my husband's stress relief. I mean obviously I was more than that to him but during the games it's what I do best.
The VIP's were going to be watching the next game. I was with In-ho in his room. I was getting dressed for tonight. I was wearing a velvet black dress with a slit up the left leg. In-ho picks up his mask and looks at me. I meet his eyes in the mirror and give him a small smirk.
"No funny business today." He warns.
"Me? Never." I act offended by the comment. He walks up behind me.
"Mhmm." He chuckles. He helps me pull on my diamond necklace and clasps it for me. He pushes my hair to the side. "You look beautiful." He whispers before placing a tender kiss to my neck. I close my eyes and hum.
"Only for you." My voice was light and breathy. He chuckles against my neck and the vibrations cause goosebumps from head to toe. This man had no clue how he really made me feel.
"Better always be." He kisses to my shoulder. I let my head rest back onto his shoulder. He makes sure to leave a few trailing hickeys before pulling away from me. I groan. I hated when he lead me on and teased me. "Later my love." He laughs. I roll my eyes and pick up my mask. He pulls his on and pulls his hood up. We walk to the door as I straighten mine onto my face. We step into the elevator. He turns his head to me and reaches to adjust my mask a bit. "There." His voice was now deeper due to the mask.
We meet the VIP's down in the game room. I could feel their eyes on me. I knew all of them had sick and disgusting thoughts on their minds.
"Me and my wife welcome you." In-ho greets. I could practically read their minds as I feel their eyes travel my body which is hugged by my dress. I link my arm to In-ho's trying to calm myself. Each man is given a couch and servers are brought out. In-ho walks to his controls and I follow quickly behind.
I was sitting in a chair while the game was going on. I was super bored and needed some entertainment. This to me wasn't very entertaining. I look at In-ho and smirk. I stand up and slide in between him and the control panel. My ass pressed against his pelvis.
"Uh-" He goes to say something but I grind back and lean over the control panel. He instinctively places his hand on my lower back as he suppresses a moan. I look back with innocent eyes that can only be seen through my mask. I lift up my dress a bit and pull it from the side from the slit. I wasn't wearing panties. I bite down on my lower lip in hopes he'd take the bait. He was staring down at my ass. His hand caresses my ass cheek before giving it a squeeze, causing me to jump just a bit.
Here I was leaning over his controls, exposed to him behind me while the VIP's, servers and guards were just in front of us. Any one of them could turn around and see if they pleased. I feel his leather covered fingers gently rub my folds. I bite hard on my lip and grip the control panel. I hear a bit of shuffling behind me and a zipper. I feel his tip rub my entrance. I look back again. He lifts his mask for a split second to spit on his cock and then jerks himself a second.
Next thing I know he's sliding in me and I'm fighting the urge to moan his name. He grips my hip with one hand while grabbing my neck with the other. He thrusts in and out of my pussy roughly. His cock always felt perfect inside me. His pants thankfully kept it quiet as his hips snapped against my ass every thrust. I let out a little whimper. Suddenly his leather gloved fingers are shoved into my mouth. He leans to my ear.
"Keep quiet. I don't want anyone to hear your moans. Those are for me only." He whispers possessively. God that made me soaked even more. I loved how possessive he would get. My mouth tasted like leather now and I loved it. He slows a bit and takes long strokes as he pushes his cock as deep in me as he could. I suck on his fingers in attempt to keep quiet. It was so hard.
His other hand reaches around and draws circles on my clit. I lose all strength in my legs to stand and he holds me up as he continues to fuck me. He knew every spot that pleasures me like the back of his hand at this point. He speeds his pace back up as he was breathing a bit heavier.
The tight knot in my stomach was telling me I was getting close. He was going to make me cum with others just in front of us who had no idea. A few more thrusts before my orgasm spills over the edge and I release around his cock. I was holding back all my moans to the best of my ability. He stops rubbing my clit and wraps that hand around my throat, pulling my back up to his chest. He slams into me about four more times before his warm liquid fills me up. I let out a soft moan on his fingers in my mouth. He pulls out from my cunt and puts his dick back in his pants. He pulls my dress down and straightens me out. He pulls his fingers from my mouth and turns me around to face him. His semen was running down my inner thigh.
"You are in for a long night." He whispers before backing up from me. This earns a blush from me under my mask that he couldn't see but I knew he knew. He lifts his mask up enough to show his lips and kisses my head before backing up more. I take a seat back in my chair and he steps back in front of the controls.
When all was said and done we return back to our room. I walk up to the vanity and take off my necklace and earrings. I pull my mask off and set it down gently. I feel arms wrap around me from behind.
"You know we could have been caught."
"Adds to the thrill." I giggle. He picks me up from behind, carries me to the bed and tosses me on. I let out a loud squeal.
"Yeah. But it made us seem unprofessional." He chuckles as he walks close. His mask was off and he had taken his jacket off as well. I lean up on my elbows.
"You liked it though." I smirk.
"Damn right." He climbs on top of me with a half smirk before kissing my lips.
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fanficshiddles · 5 hours ago
Dangerous Night, Chapter 24
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Melissa couldn’t believe that she had just stepped foot in Egypt.
She was so excited, and it made Jonathan’s heart soar to see her so happy and excited. He held her hand tightly as they made their way off the runway to an awaiting car with the rest of the gang.
Her face was glued to the window as they drove through the city of Cairo, to the Nerfertiti hotel. When they arrived, she was once again in utter awe at where they were staying. She wasn’t sure if she would ever get over the initial surprise of how luxurious the places they stayed in were.
They were all greeted like old friends, since they stayed there frequently. After being shown to their rooms, they got freshened up after the journey and then went downstairs to the bar. They were meeting with Freddie Hamid, who was introducing them to some new buyers the following morning.
‘Hello there, aren’t you beautiful.’ Freddie grinned as he was introduced to Melissa, shaking her hand.
Melissa raised an eyebrow at him and just smiled a bit. ‘Good to meet you.’ She said, then moved right in next to Jonathan, who gave Freddie a hard glare.
They all got some food and drinks from the bar, then started to enjoy their evening. Melissa was near the bar with Carol when Freddie wandered over towards them. Melissa already didn’t like him, he seemed arrogant and cocky.
He slipped in close to Melissa, putting himself between her and Carol.
‘So, you’re a boss lady huh?’ He smirked and put his hand on her shoulder.
Melissa glared at his hand. ‘I am indeed.’ She picked up a cocktail stick from the bar and used it to stab the back of his hand.
He hissed and retracted his hand quickly, rubbing the back of his hand he glared at her as she walked off with Carol. But it hadn’t put him off her. During the night, he tried buying her some drinks, even though she kept turning them down.
Corky stalked over to Freddie and managed to drag him off to the side where it was a bit quieter.
‘Freddie, mate. You need to back off from Melissa, she’s Jonathan’s girl.’
Freddie laughed and patted Corky on the shoulder. ‘I am sure it’s down to her to decide who she wants to spend the night with. Jonathan is not all that.’
Corky raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you really think she would be interested in you? And do you really think Jonathan would allow it? You’re lucky he hasn’t dealt with you already, I’ve seen him watching. Melissa belongs to Jonathan, and he belongs to her. You’ve got no chance, and trust me, it’s better to stay away. You’re doing business with them tomorrow, it’s not a good idea to continue flirting with her.’
Freddie just grumped in response to Corky. And he didn’t listen to Corky’s warning. He carried on flirting with Melissa that night.
Jonathan of course saw, whilst he didn’t interfere more than putting his arm around Melissa when he could, as he knew Melissa could handle herself, on the inside he was absolutely seething.
And he wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Especially when Freddie tried grabbing her arse when he was really drunk and high, that was the last straw for Pine.
‘Freddie. You’ve had more than enough to drink tonight. Come on, let’s get you home.’ Jonathan said firmly as he grabbed his upper arm.
‘No, no. I can keep going ALL NIGHT!’ He cheered and tried grabbing another shot of straight vodka.
‘Remember, we have a big deal on tomorrow. I need you in your own mind for it.’ Jonathan growled at him.
Freddie nodded reluctantly after looking at Jonathan’s face, seeing he meant business and wasn’t joking around. He allowed Jonathan to lead him out of the hotel and to a car that was waiting.
Jonathan had just nodded to Frisky before leaving everyone.
Melissa was glad that Freddie was gone, but she hoped Jonathan wouldn’t be too long so she could be all over her handsome man.
Jonathan did well to contain his rage until they got back to Freddie’s. Jonathan charmed the driver to wait for him, giving a hefty tip helped too.
He managed to get Freddie to sit down just outside the double doors by his large pool. He poured them both a drink of whisky from Freddie’s bar.
‘Here.’ Jonathan handed him a drink and sat down opposite him, just sipping his own drink very slowly while Freddie downed his, feeling totally out of it as he dropped his glass and hung his head down.
Jonathan carefully placed his glass down and began rolling up his sleeves.
‘You know, Freddie. I don’t take too kindly to people trying to take what’s mine.’ He said dangerously. Even though Freddie was barely taking in what was being said, he was far too high and drunk.
‘Especially my girl.’ He growled low and stood up, then went over next to Freddie.
Freddie let out a gasp as Jonathan suddenly pounced. He put his arm around his neck and hauled him up to his feet. He then dragged him over towards the pool.
‘You do not get to disrespect my girl and get away with it.’ Jonathan snarled and hauled Freddie down the steps into the pool.
Freddie flailed around and tried to get free from Jonathan’s hold. But Jonathan then shoved him face down in the water and held him down under the water. His body jerked around like a fish as bubbles came up from him. But then they eased and Freddie’s body slowly started to settle. Until eventually, he was completely motionless.
Jonathan kept him down there for a bit longer, just to be sure. Then he left him floating face down in his own pool.
He tossed Freddie’s glass into the pool next to him, then finished his own and cleaned the glass before placing it back on the bar. So it was like Freddie had been drinking alone. Then he went back to the awaiting car, his trousers dripping wet. But the driver didn’t question him.
Melissa had been disappointed when Jonathan didn’t return for a while. She went up to her room when most of the others decided to call it a night too.
She was delightfully drunk, and still wide awake when Jonathan finally returned.
‘Babyyyyyy you’re back!’ She hopped up from the bed and ran to greet him at the door, throwing herself at him as she put her arms around his neck and legs around his waist, making him laugh as he caught her.
‘Well, isn’t this a delight. A beautiful half-naked girl greeting me in such an enthusiastic manner.’ He hummed and slid his hands down to her bum, squeezing.
‘Why are you wet?’ She frowned and leaned back a bit to look at him.
Jonathan started nibbling on her neck and delved his fingers inside her knickers to touch her. ‘I could ask you the same question.’ He growled against her, making her giggle then moan as he started playing with her.
‘I’ve been waiting for you.’ She whined and pushed down against his fingers.
‘Of course you have, lovely.’ Jonathan chuckled and spanked her ass with his other hand, making her gasp in delight. ‘Because you are mine.’
He walked her over to the bed and lay down on top of her. After working his way down her body, kissing and biting all over, marking her up, he pulled off her knickers and feasted on her for a while. Making her cum on his tongue a few times before shrugging off his wet trousers and lining up with her, thrusting home into her.
Melissa threw her hands up above her submissively and Jonathan captured them both in one large hand, holding them tightly as he fucked her good and hard.
‘Ohh fucking hell, Melissa, you feel so good wrapped around my cock.’ Jonathan moaned as he thrust in as deep as he could.
Melissa could just moan and whimper in response, it felt like he was trying to climb inside her. Each thrust was moving the entire bed and his hold on her wrists was bruising, but she absolutely loved every second of it.
‘Who do you belong to?’ He blurted out as he bit down particularly hard on her collarbone, thrusting harder and bumping her cervix painfully before he paused. But it moulded deliciously for her with the pleasure, almost making her cum already.
‘Oh god… You! Jonathan! I’m all yours.’ She cried out as he started moving again, rough and quick.
‘Cum for me, my pet. Cum all over my cock like my good little slut you are.’ He snarled against her neck and slid his free hand down between them to roughly rub her clit, setting her off like a firework beneath him, making him cum too inside her.
Both of them were panting hard after their orgasms, Jonathan rolled onto his side and pulled Melissa with him, keeping his cock lodged snugly inside her. He was still throbbing and twitching, making her mewl.
She didn’t give a damn where he had been, or why his trousers were wet. Though she had a pretty good idea what had happened. And she didn’t care. As long as she was in Jonathan’s arms, nothing and no one else mattered as much to her.
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Summary: You agree to meet the man that you had been sexting with for almost a year. You weren’t prepared for how your life would change.
Pairing: Donaka Mark x fem. Reader
Wordcount: 2.1 k
Rating: E
Warnings: Sex Toys, Masturbation, Overstimulation, Dirty Talk, Nipple Play, Choking, Handjobs, Smut (unprotected sex) Public sex but not really lol
A/N: This turned out hella soft comparing to anything else I have written for Donaka lmao. This weeks kinktober fic with prompts Masturbation || Nipple play || Choking || Hand jobs || Overstimulation || Sex Toys || Dirty Talk by @the-purity-pen
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You were tired.
It was just after 9 am, the biggest rush in the little coffee shop you were working at just finished. You were alone today, Amber, your co-worker bailed on you, not for the first time. God, you wanted to have a normal life. With one job that paid enough instead of three. Where you would get a decent amount of sleep instead of working on your dissertation in between jobs. You wanted a fucking break.
Closing your eyes only for a second you breathed in deeply, finishing the order of a hot chocolate. You handed it over with a smile when you felt your phone in your pocket. You looked around, making sure that everyone was taken care off when you pulled your phone out, seeing it was from him.
Almost a year ago you set up an account on tinder after having a drink too much. D was the only one who swiped right (great for your self esteem). He was… mysterious. Unique, and after a year of texting you still didn’t know what he looked like. His (and your) profile on tinder long gone, having swapped numbers to text like normal people.
You only knew that he owned a business and was traveling a lot for work. He could be anyone really.
He was the longest running relationship you ever had (even if you were sure you could call it that) and you had never seen or met him. But oh the way he talked to you on the phone….
D: Are you wearing it?
You: Yes
D: Rules
You: I’m not allowed to cum until I’m home.
D: Good Girl
When you looked up from your phone you caught the eyes of a man across the cafe, looking at you, before he looked away. He was a regular. Always ordering a plain black coffee and sat down exactly on the same spot to read the New York times.
He was attractive, older than you, always dressed in a sharp suit, his brown eyes always kind when they looked at you.
You gripped the counter when you felt the vibrations start. It was the lowest setting. Fuck you were gonna regret this. Months into texting with D he started sending you things. One of the things being an app controlled mini vibrator only he could control.
You’ve had a long day today and D knew it. He probably knew your schedule better than yourself. And he was in town. You would finally meet him. Tomorrow. For the first time. And apparently his goal was to make you beg for him.
The intensity didn’t increase over the next hour. Your colleague Mitch was here to take over while you cleaned the counter and made one last order for the handsome mystery guy.
He gave you a small smile, sliding his credit black card over, his phone in his hand, telling you to tip yourself well. You gave him a smile, as you swiped his card, reading his name. Donaka Mark.
You felt your phone in your pocket as you slid him his card back. He was looking at his phone too.
“Thank you Mr. Mark. And I’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked.
He pocketed his card, nodding.
“See you tomorrow,”  he winked before he turned around. When he was out, you turned around, saying goodbye to Mitch and got out your phone.
D: There’s a box waiting for you at home. Wear it tomorrow.
You: Of course
The intensity of the vibrations went up and your eyes rolled back as you grabbed your bag.
“Fuck,” you whispered.
D: You should have gotten yourself a bigger tip.
You blinked at your phone, confused, when you gasped, looking behind you through the front door. Handsome mystery man, Donaka, was standing there looking at you as the vibrations got more intense and you bit your lip as he looked up.
He winked, before he turned around and left while the vibrations stopped. You breathed in deeply, looking after him. He had started to come here almost half a year ago. D… Donaka. You shook your head to yourself, still flushed, your cunt slick with arousal.
You: How big?
D: However fucking big you want.
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You were a mess by the time you came home. You just wanted to cum. You pushed the box that was waiting for you into your apartment, closing the door behind you. You undressed on your way to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and another vibe and as if he knew you’d be home your phone rang.
“Please…” you whimpered and heard him chuckle. You lay down on your bed. The whole day you’d been on the verge to cum and just when you already felt the first waves the vibrations stopped.
“Be a good girl and cum for me. I wanna hear it,” he said with his deep voice. You got out of your drenched panties, pulling the vibe out you had been wearing all day and replaced it with a bigger one.
“It will be my hands making you cum tomorrow,” he said and you whined.
“And my cock. Wanna make you scream my name…”
“D…” you moaned, fucking yourself with your vibe.
“Say my name….” he growled.
“Donaka….” you gasped, rolling your hips.
“Such a good fucking girl…. Come on. Cum. You earned it.”
You almost screamed when you finally came harder than you ever had before. You felt your whole body tingling, your legs shaking.
“Fuck…” you moaned, turning the vibe of and relaxed your body into the soft covers beneath you.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, suddenly very tired, you put your blanket over yourself.
“I had to be sure…”
“Sure of what?”
“That you’re the right one,” he said and you smiled.
“I like that.”
“Sleep. My driver will pick you up at 6pm tomorrow.”
“Okay. Good night Donaka.”
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Of course you googled Donaka before you left. You might have been texting with him for a year, but now that you knew… Fuck. You weren’t prepared. One of the wealthiest people in the city, made it to the list of most attractive bachelors for every year since 2004.
And you were about to meet him for dinner.
You would be lying if you were saying that you haven’t been attracted to him before. There were nights the two of you spent just talking. He seemed very lonely to you, only opening up slowly.
And now you were sitting in his car, wearing the clothes he bought for you, the Tiffany necklace that he had gifted you for your birthday and the heels he had sent you.
You were feeling like a million bucks and you wondered if he felt like that all the time.
The car stopped and the door opened. You stepped out, looking around and up the tall building.
“It’s on the topfloor Miss. The elevator on the right,” the driver said with a smile and you nodded.
Stepping into the building you walked towards the elevator that was already waiting for you, bringing you to the top floor. You were nervous. This wasn’t something you were used to. You worked three jobs that made barely enough money to afford your life. You didn’t go to fancy dinners in fancy restaurants. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths. The elevator stopped, the doors sliding open and you opened your eyes just in time to see Donaka standing there. He was wearing a black suit, with a black dress shirt beneath, his hands in his pockets.
You took a step back when he stepped into the elevator, resting your back against the wall. “You look beautiful,” he said and you smiled a little.
“You have good taste,” you said hoarsely.
“I know,” he stepped closer and you bit your lip, swallowing.
“What… What are you doing here?” you asked and he furrowed his brows.
“I mean why are you here and not upstairs?”
“I live here,” he said, his chest now against yours.
You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“This isn’t me. I…”
“Don’t. Don’t think. Let me treat you to a night out. You deserve it,” he whispered and you let your head fall back against the wall to look up at him. He was even more handsome up close, his dark eyes searching for yours. You reached one of your hands up into his neck.
“Okay,” you whispered, before you pulled him down to kiss him.
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You didn’t understand half of the meals on the menu so Donaka ordered for both of you and it was delicious. Probably the best food you had in years. Donaka’s eyes didn’t leave you the whole evening. You learned pretty quickly that he wasn’t a big fan of PDA but you loved to tease him. Letting one of your feet run up his thigh, leaning over the table, so he could see your lack of bra in the dress he bought you.
His eyes seemed to get darker and darker until he asked for the check.
“You are playing with fire,” he said lowly.
“Maybe I like to get burned,” you grinned and he breathed in deeply. The waiter came and swiped Donaka’s card. Your eyes never left Donaka’s until he got up and then helped you up. His hand was resting on your lower back as he guided you towards the elevator. When the doors opened you walked in as Donaka pushed various buttons before he turned around and pushed you against the wall, his lips on yours.
“Teasing me is not something many people survive…” he groaned against your lips, his hands already pushing your dress up. You whimpered.
“Wanted to bend you over the fucking table and make you scream my name for everyone to see,” he kissed down your throat, his hands pulling your dress down to reveal your tits to him. A part of you was aware that you were in an elevator that could stop any time but fuck you didn’t care. Not with the way he was touching you.
You brought one of your hands in between your bodys. You didn’t ask as you pulled at the Zipper of his pants, pushing your hand in to find his hard cock as he bit down on your breast.
“Fuck…” you both moaned and he looked up at you. His lips closed around one of your nipples sucking it in. He brought one of his hands up, resting on your throat. You groaned, your other hand pushing into his pants to pull his cock out. He flickered his tongue over your nipple, using his teeth to pull at it while you began to pump his cock in your hand.
“Can you cum like this?” he mumbled against your skin. You tried to shake your head but his grip around your throat tightened and you whimpered.
He pulled at your other nipple and you pumped him harder.
“Fuck you’re good at this. Wanna be inside you….” he groaned, choking you a little harder.
“Fuck me…. Please… Please….” he let go of you to hoist you up against the wall, his pants hitting the floor. He wasted no time, pushing your panties to the side, thrusting into you in one fluent motion just when the elevator doors opened.
“Donaka….” you whimpered. His hand was around your throat again while you held on to his shoulders, your legs around his waist as he fucked you against the wall like you weighed nothing.
“Shhh…” he hummed, dark eyes finding yours as his hand around your throat gripped harder, choking you. Fuck you were so close.
“Waited so long for this. Fuck…” he groaned. You were looking at him, your brain blissfully foggy as he thrusted hard and you came, surprised from the intensity and he let go of his grip around your throat, letting you breathe as he fucked you through your orgasm.
“Fuck D…”
“Never letting you leave…” he moaned, pumping into you faster, biting down on your breast, hard.
“Shit…” you yelped and felt him pulse inside, filling you up.
You both tried to slow down your breathing before he carried you out of the elevator.
“Donaka….” you tried to get off of him but he only gripped you tighter.
“Where… There… People?” you stammered and he chuckled.
“Private elevator. I own the building,” he shrugged and you blinked your eyes.
Of course he does.
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vyta · 7 months ago
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credit: @redbeantofu on twt
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wantstoflyafraidtofall · 7 months ago
hey writers! OneLook Thesaurus lets you find that word you can’t think of but can describe! go check it out!
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middleearthpixie · 2 days ago
More Than Meets the Eye ~ Chapter Nine
Summary: Arielle gets her first glimpse of Belle, and later, Thorin catches Arielle in a lie and his suspicions deepen.
Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield/Arielle (Elen) Farran (female OC)
Characters: Arielle, Thorin, Dis, Belle Caisys
Rating: T
Warnings: none
Word Count: 3,914
Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @ocfairygodmother @exhausted-humxn-being
If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know!
Previous chapters can be found here and AO3
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Arielle scowled at door. Sent to her room as if she was a wayward child and for what? Because she dared call Thorin on his foolishness? Hardly a reason to be punished, as far as she was concerned. And besides, what was the worst thing he could do?
He could sack you.
She sank back into the small sofa with a sigh. He could, but the real question was whether or not he would. Somehow, she didn’t think he would, but then again, she didn’t honestly know him at all. Not after only two days, she didn’t.
So she sat there, scowling at the door for a few minutes longer, flexing her hand to let the pain take her mind off her aggravation, for all the good it did.
Then her stomach growled.
Food was worth the risk.
Even so, she opened the door to her chambers very slowly, as if he’d hear the grinding of the handle and come barreling down the corridor at her like a madman. She rolled her eyes and forced herself to just open the fool door.
The corridor was empty and by the time she reached the Great Hall, she didn’t care if he did catch her and sack her on the spot. A very delicious aroma wafted on the air, which made her stomach growl louder, and she sniffed her way into the Great Hall.
Just in time to see Thorin escorting an absolutely beautiful dark-haired woman from said hall.
Arielle’s appetite faded. The delicious aroma now turned her stomach. She stopped just inside the Great Hall, her stomach knotting as the dwarf woman slipped her arm through Thorin’s and he smiled down at her.
That had to be the woman Lady Dis wanted him to court. Somehow, Arielle didn’t think Thorin would be all that adverse to taking this woman as his wife. From what Arielle could see, she was absolutely perfect in every way from her perfectly coiled blue-black curls to her dainty little feet. Just as she’d imagined. Lucky her, to be so spot on.
Of course, Arielle didn’t know if she even had dainty little feet, but she probably did. Everything else about her was perfect, her feet had to be as well.
“Elen? Are you coming in from breakfast?”
Arielle jumped as Dori appeared as if from nowhere beside her. “Oh, good morning, Master Dori. You move so quietly.”
He smiled. “Come in and have something to eat. I thought we’d see you earlier.”
“I was… I was helping His Highness dress.” She bobbed her head toward Thorin and the perfect dwarf as they passed through the doorway.
“Ah, Lady Dis would love nothing more than to see him marry and start a family of his own.” Dori looked from the doorway back at her. “And not only because of line of succession, either. He’s seen a lot of sadness, you know. We’d all like to see him find some happiness. And, from the looks of it, perhaps he has.”
Her stomach curled. Thorin did actually look rather happy to be in the lady’s company, and Arielle knew it was wrong to be unhappy about that herself, but since when did emotion listen to reason? All she knew was that she wanted to throw something big and heavy, and quite possibly lethal, at Belle.
“Everyone should be happy,” she nodded, even as her throat tightened at the thought.
“So, come along and have some breakfast. I’m certain His Highness has you busy the rest of the day so I won’t keep you.”
“No, actually, he—” The words died on her lips as Dori took himself off and joined several other dwarves in the far corner.
But she had no desire to eat now. Instead, she turned heel and left the Great Hall to find her way back to the laundry room, where she tackled the rest of Thorin’s mending. The pain in her fingers hadn’t subsided from the day before and her hand still ached like mad, but she found she didn’t mind it so much. It helped take her mind off what Thorin was doing.
How was it possible to be jealous after only two days in his presence? And yet, she was just that. Jealous. It was foolish. It was childish. It was the height of idiocy. He was the King Under the Mountain and she was basically a half-breed peasant pretending to be her brother in service to the King Under the Mountain. She would have laughed if it didn’t sting the way it did.
Two days. In two days, she’d learned he was too proud to admit when he hurt, that he treated everyone with respect and to a certain extent, as an equal, that he loved his sister unconditionally even when he disagreed with her, that he spent much of his time alone—mostly by his choosing, it seemed—that he had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen, the softest hair she’d ever touched, and he smelled like fresh air and sunshine and a hint of leather.
And he was off courting another woman.
She bent over until her forehead went thunk against the table. It was a good thing Kusela was no where to be found. Arielle didn’t want to even try to explain why she was in such a foolish funk. Elen didn’t fall into funks. He moved on the to the next woman.
Well, she wasn’t Elen. She’d never been in this place before. Oh, she’d pined before, as it seemed men simply did not notice her. Who would pay notice to a skinny, plain-looking half-breed with a huge brown shrub for hair? Especially when there were so many other, far prettier, far more desirable women in Dale?
But pining from afar was vastly different from pining for a man one saw all day long, in close quarters, while performing rather intimate tasks for him. It was far different indeed, and made worse by that fact she could never breathe a word of it. Not to him, not to any of the other servants, not to anyone.
Elen was the only one she could tell, and she wouldn’t see him for several more days still.
She’d thought masquerading as Elen was a bad idea from the start. Now she knew how wrong she’d been. It was a horrid idea and grew worse by the hour.
Thorin tried to concentrate on what Miss Caisys said as they strolled along the river just outside of Erebor. He honestly did, but the trouble was, he had far too much on his mind at the moment. He was supposed to be in Dale, meeting with Bard, and while he’d sent Dwalin in his stead, along with Balin to keep Dwalin from hitting Bard if the mood struck, he still felt he should be there.
The scene with Elen weighed heavily on his mind as well. He’d erupted unnecessarily at the boy and for what? Because Elen dared show concern for him?
And that brought him back to the conundrum where Elen was concerned. The more he thought about it, the more he’d convinced himself his valet was a woman, which left him with even more questions than he’d begun with, and no easy way to find answers.
“Your Highness?”
Miss Caisys’ soft voice jolted him from his reverie and he peered down to see her smiling up at him. “I beg your pardon, Miss Caisys,” he said, forcing a smile to his lips, “I have much on my mind at the moment.”
“I was just asking what that was, over there?” She pointed to the stark, gray stone tower rising from the mist above Erebor.
He stopped, staring at the tower, his stomach clenching as he replied, “That is Ravenhill.”
“Might we see it up close? It looks so old and fascinating. I love exploring ruins.”
His blood ran cold at the thought of going up there. He hadn’t been there since the Battle of the Five Armies, tried not to think about what he’d seen up there, what he’d faced. The last thing he wanted to do was explore the fortress or play tour guide.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
It came out a bit more sharply than he’d intended, and her eyes went wide. “But… it looks so mysterious and I—”
“I am not going up there,” he snapped turning back toward Erebor. “And we should really get back. I’ve much needing my attention these days.”
“Of course.” A soft hurt lined her words, and he tried to ignore the guilt now pricking his insides. There was no reason on earth why he couldn’t just tell her why he wished to avoid the fortress. After all, he’d nearly died on an ice floe just beyond its gates, had watched as Fili took a blade to the back before being tossed like a rag doll from a rampart. Surely she would understand his memories of Ravenhill were terrible ones and he had no desire to revisit them.
But the words failed him. He may have felt guilt, but refused to acknowledge it. It wasn’t anything he wished to share with anyone and he ignored the baleful stare she offered up as he picked up his pace. She had to almost run to keep up with him, but he just needed to put as much distance between him and Ravenhill as possible.
“Your Highness, what is it? What’s the matter?”
Miss Caisys’ breathless questions gently penetrated the red haze before his eyes. He slowed, allowed her to catch up with him, albeit somewhat breathlessly, before saying, “I apologize. It’s simply… this is one of the places where the Battle of the Five Armies was fought and my experience here was… less than pleasant.”
She stared up at him. “I’m certain it was, but the dwarven army was victorious, wasn’t it? How terrible could it have been?”
Dis had obviously not told her what happened to him there, and he did not feel much like sharing. “It was war, my dear lady,” he replied evenly, fighting to keep the impatience from his voice, “and war is never pleasant, but only has degrees of terrible. And that is all I will say on the subject.”
As they reached inside the gates of Erebor, he eased his arm from beneath hers. “If you will excuse me, Miss Caisys, but I must go now.”
“Yes, but—”
He knew it was rude, but he had to get away from her and so left her there, staring after him, as he strode into the Great Hall. He’d hear about it from Dis later, no doubt, but he’d deal with that when the time came.
Ignoring everyone he stalked by, Thorin made his way below, to the sanctity and quiet of his apartment. There, he sank onto the sofa, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. Life had been easier before he and the Company reclaimed Erebor. He hadn’t quite realized it at the time, but it truly was, even when they were in Ered Luin. No, easier wasn’t the right word. Simpler. That was the better word for it.
Although he’d spent his early life being groomed to take over the throne, Erebor had been different back then. Now, he had rebuilding the city itself, plus Dale, plus Esgaroth on his plate, and that plate was getting piled far too high for his liking. If he wasn’t careful, it would tip and everything would splatter on the floor at his feet.
And now, he’d have an angry Dis to contend with as well. He knew she meant well, but… but he just wished she would listen to him without determining she knew best.
The soft knock at the door jolted him from his darkening thoughts. “Who goes there?”
“Elen, Your Highness. May I come in?”
“You may, yes.”
The door opened and he looked over at Elen. From a distance, he looked exactly as he claimed to be—a young man. But, as he drew closer, Thorin wondered if it was only the power of suggestion, but to him, Elen’s features slowly became far more feminine—high, slanted cheekbones, soft chin, smooth, pale skin.
Much as he hated to do it, he lowered his gaze just so. No curves. But, that didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t a she. Not all women were blessed with curves, which was a pity as far he was concerned.
“I wished to apologize,” Elena said as he came around to the front of the sofa. “I overstepped this morning and for that I am sorry.”
“No,” he sat up, clasping his hands to let them dangle between his knees, “I owe you an apology, Elen. You did nothing wrong but show concern and did not deserve my harsh words.” The ache in his shoulder flared then, as if to remind him why Elen was so concerned.
“Well, you did rather overreact.”
Thorin stared up at him for a moment, then smiled. “I did. And for that, I have no excuse.” He hesitated, then added, “You are originally from Esgaroth, aren’t you?”
Elen nodded. “I am, yes. But we lost everything when Smaug came and had no choice but to settle in Dale.”
There was no self-pity in his voice, only a stark matter-of-factness, and that sent fresh guilt slicing through Thorin, for he and the others were responsible for rousing Smaug the Terrible and unleashing him upon the citizens of Esgaroth.
“That was not planned,” he hedged, watching Elen’s face for any sign of emotion, for anything that might betray him as a her. “We meant to kill him, but failed.”
“I know.” He bobbed his head. “Bard was the one who killed him, but by then, it was too late. Like most of the other survivors, we found our way to Dale. Or more appropriately, the huge wave that occurred when Smaug slammed into the lake flung us onto Dale’s shores. And, well… it’s only slightly better there, but at least we have a roof over our heads.”
“And you support yourself by doing hair?”
Again, Elen bobbed his head. “Arielle watches the children of those who work and have no one else. We get by. Or we would, if not for our snake of a landlord who raises our rents on practically a daily basis.”
Try as he might, Thorin could see nothing that struck him as inherently female. “You and Arielle? Is there anyone else?”
“No. Our mother was one of Smaug’s casualties, I’m afraid.”
Thorin stiffened at that, for it was not what he’d expected to hear. “I’m sorry, Elen,” was all he could say and even that sounded lame to him.
But Elen smiled. “Thank you, but she was also sick, and it was quick, so… and I know that sounds terrible, but…”
“No. It doesn’t.” He rose from the sofa and turned to face Elen. “And your father?”
A hint of color rose along Elen’s cheekbones. “I never knew him.”
Thorin folded his arms, leveling a long look at him. “I thought he lost use of his arm after ignoring an injury to it? Isn’t that what you told me?”
The color deepened as Elen realized his mistake. “Ah… well… I meant my…”
“Do not lie to me,” Thorin growled, trying to sound as threatening as he could. Perhaps that was how he forced Elen’s hand.
“Very well," Elen met his gaze easily, even as the flush swept up toward his hairline, “I lied about that. But, I did so because you should see your healer about that arm before it becomes permanent. I have seen it happen, just not to my father.”
“What do you know of him?”
“Nothing, really. My mother rarely spoke of him. She believed the past belonged in the past.”
Thorin took a step closer. “So, I know you’ve lied to me about one thing. What other lies have you told me?”
“That is the only one.”
“And how am I to believe this?”
“Why would I own up to one only to tell more?”
“You tell me.”
To his credit, Elen continued to meet his stare. “There are no others.”
Thorin stared him down for a bit longer, then decided he’d let the matter drop for now, let Elen grow more comfortable in his presence and perhaps then he’d slip. “Very well. What do you know of your father?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m curious, Elen. You strike me as being… different… Not wholly of Man.” He gestured to his left ear, then to his own beard. “Pointed ears, no facial hair—are you part Elf?”
Elen nodded. “All my mother would say was our father was of the Woodland Realm, but she never named him. As far as I know, he does not know Arielle and I even exist.”
“That’s too bad. A father should know his children and children should definitely know their father.”
Elen shrugged. “One cannot miss what one has never known.” Then, he cleared his throat. “So, did you enjoy your stroll with Lady Dis’ friend?”
Thorin didn’t miss the slight derision in Elen’s voice and a hint of triumph coursed through him. There was one or two more ways left he could force his hand, but he wasn’t going to do it. Yet. “I did, actually, but how did you know about it?”
Without a hint of remorse, Elen shrugged and said, “I was hungry and went to find breakfast. I saw you leaving the Great Hall.”
“It was a pleasant enough day and that is all you need know about it. Now,” Thorin stepped around him, “I’ll need help dressing for this evening, so if you wouldn’t mind.” He gestured to his bedchamber.
“Of course.”
He smiled as he led Elen into the room. “I’m afraid I’ll need your help getting this—” he grabbed a handful of his dark blue tunic—“off. And before you scold me again, I will see Narnerra in the morning about it.”
“Good. It’s time you’ve come to your senses.” Elen caught the hem of the tunic and pushed it up with one hand. With the other, he held the left sleeve so Thorin could tug his arm free. Then, Thorin pulled it over his head and let Elen whisk it down his right arm. Pain flared in his shoulder with the slightest movement, and he fought to keep from sucking in a hard breath.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Elen said, letting the tunic hit the floor.
“You didn’t. I hurt me and I’ll be fine.”
Elen was only a fraction of an inch shorter than him, and when Thorin looked down, it was to find Elen studying him. “What is it?”
Elen looked up. “Where did you get this?”
This was a jagged scar that resembled a dotted line that ran from his right shoulder, across his upper chest. “It’s a warg bite. The other half…” He traced along an almost identical scar that dotted below his right nipple, mostly lost in his chest hair, but still somewhat visible. “And the lower jaw bite is in the same place, but on my back."
He waited and sure enough, a hint of color rose to Elen’s cheeks once more.
“A warg?”
He nodded. “We were set upon by an orc pack just beyond Goblintown. Wargs have immense power in their jaws.”
“I’ve heard.” Elen met his gaze. “You’re lucky to be alive.”
“You have no idea.”
“What were you doing in Goblintown?”
Thorin moved to tug open the door to his wardrobe, and reached in for a clean shirt. He chose a black henley, which he tugged out and twisted to toss onto the bed. “Making my way here, actually, believe it or not. We’d left Rivendell and were heading to Mirkwood and accidentally fell into Goblintown.”
He looked over to see Elen shudder. “You’ve been there, Elen?”
“Me? No,” Elen shook his head. “I’ve never been farther than Esgaroth or here. I’ve never even been up to Ravenhill.”
He tensed, waiting for the next question and Elen did not disappoint. “You were there, weren’t you? At Ravenhill?”
“I was, yes.”
“That must have been terrifying.”
Elen’s choice of words gave him pause. He’d spoken to quite a few men about the Battle of the Five Armies and not one ever voiced such a concern. He looked over at Elen. “You don’t think such things in a battle. If you did, you would freeze and most likely be cut down.”
“Oh, I know, but still… I only ever thought orcs were the stuff of fairy tales, creatures parent created in order to make their children behave.” Elen shrugged as he took the henley from him and unfolded it to lay out across the bed.
“They are very real.”
“I know.” Elen turned to him. “I remember when you came to Esgaroth. You and your Company. I was there when you stood on the steps of the Master’s House and made your promise to us. You left to come here and then orcs descended upon us. I’d never fought anyone or anything before that night and I think I killed three. One with a kitchen fork, which was unbelievably messy.”
Shame, hot and thick, poured into Thorin. At the time he’d uttered the words, he wholeheartedly meant them. But by the time they reached Erebor and Smaug was killed, he’d been overcome with dragon sickness, brought on by a love of gold. The same thing that drove his grandfather mad.
He didn’t like to speak of those days. And while he heard no accusation in Elen’s voice, he definitely felt regret. “It was not my intention to bring ruin to Esgaroth. Not at all.”
“I understand and it isn’t as if we had such a wonderful life there, because life under the Master was anything but.” Elen took the heavy black trousers Thorin pulled from the wardrobe. “Did you know they were hunting you?”
“I did. The Goblin King took great delight in not only telling me,” he managed a rueful smile at the memory, “but he sent a messenger to Azog the Defiler, telling him where he could find me.”
“Is he the orc who hunted you?”
“He is. Or, he was.”
“You killed him.”
It wasn’t a question, but Thorin nodded just the same. “I did and before you ask, I’d rather not talk about what happened at Ravenhill.”
To his surprise, Elen met his gaze. “I know what happened there. I was in Dale then, and we all knew what happened to Thorin Oakenshield.”
“I’ll wager you did.”
Elen glanced down at the trousers in his hands, then back up at him. “They say you were mad. Were you?”
“Do I seem mad to you?”
With a hint of a smile, Elen shook his head. “No. Of course not.”
“Good. Now, if we might, I do have to go above and apologize to Miss Caisys.”
Thorin waited to see the darkness flash through Elen’s eyes, only to be disappointed when his valet merely bobbed his head and said, “Of course,” and finished helping him dress in silence.
Afterwards, as Thorin made his way back to the Great Hall, he couldn’t help but wonder just which one of them would win this battle of wills, and how much longer it would be before Elen came clean and told him the truth.
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