#this blog is slowly turning into one self indulgent mess | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spikesbimbo · 3 years

Text

Mood Swings

Summary: Daddy’s little girl always gets what she wants < 3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

Tags: babymaking ; ) neglected reader, daddy kink, size kink, hurt/ comfort

wc: 2.3k

a/n: this was very self indulgent, just like all my other works

this is a reupload from my old blog jaded--enigma

Closing the door behind you, feet dragging against the floor as you came home from a bad day at work, eyes glossy and red. Immediately going to your finance’s office, wanting him to coddle you and tell you everything would be alright, as he was great at. One of the reasons you admired him so much, being his biggest fan.

Opening the door to see him writing something on his papers, his blazer on the floor, only wearing his white button-down shirt fitting him perfectly.

His arms barely fit the tight material as your eyes scrolled down to his glasses sitting on the table next to his hands, so pretty and big, instantly getting you worked up, even though that was the reason you came here. Wanting your daddy to make it all better.

Walking up to him making your way in his lap, sittin pretty. Mumbling out a “ken”, resting your head on his shoulder while gently kissing his neck.

“Not now baby.” he said, gently moving his head away from yours before you could even wrap your arms around him, so why did that make you fall apart? Why were you so sensitive? Why were there tears forming in your eyes?

You gave him a fake soft smile pushing the tears back, saying “okay.” and hopped off of his lap, already missing his touch as you walked out of the room, feet still dragging as you took one last peek at him before you shut the door and started walking towards your own room, knowing he would work till late night, as always.

He was obviously stressed so you understood that he wanted to be alone, but you felt so burdensome, annoyingly needy, as you finally made it to your room. Laying on the bed that you two slept on, hugging the fluffy sheets.

Trying to get your mind off of it, you changed into your baby blue silk nightgown, finding it in your closet full of clothes he bought you. So much that you started using the guest room for extra storage for your shoes.

It fell just over your knees, the straps dainty as a pin, flowing as you walked towards your bed again, dimming the lights on the way.

Dirty thoughts getting to you, remembering that you had to wash them two days ago from him making a mess out of you after coming home from work, taking it out on you. Now covering your face with your hands, pain spreading throughout your body as you tried to subdue it, telling yourself you could wait… but you couldn’t.

Your legs spread open, no panties or bra on, just the gown. Shoving your fingers into your cunt, so wet and needy, making a mess but getting yourself nowhere. Crying softly, the last thing you want to do is make your daddy mad at you.

Fat tears falling from just wanting an ounce of his attention, so needy, so embarrassed; embarrassed over the fact that you couldn't even touch your clit right without getting tired.

Embarrassed that he could get you off better than yourself, the fact that you were never dry around him; the fact that he had you this spoiled to the point of him doing everything for you made your heart break and flutter at the same time.

He loves how appreciated you made him feel, making him feel like you couldn't do anything without him. He loves to take care of you because he doesn't want to see you let go of your youth, in a way living his life through you. Not wanting to rush to ‘grow up’ like he had to, you made him feel like he was living his life with no regrets.

Your fingers were so small in comparison to his, thinking about how just one would fill you up, and him simply curling it inside you would make you cum, so responsive to his touch. Trying your best to feel the feel same as his.

You raised your legs slightly in the air, trying to reach deeper like he did. It somewhat working as you were now letting out held back moans along with “daddy and ken” falling there too, or maybe it was from the lewdness of it all, your messy little pussy all wet thinking ‘bout daddy and his fat cock, if only he knew.

You were so lost in your own world you didn't even hear the door open. He was met with your sticky tears falling down your pretty face as you struggled trying to get yourself off. His composed nature leaving him freezing for once in his life.

You finally gave your self a break, sobbing louder as you couldn't even feel anything looking up to wipe your tears with both hands, finally getting them dry enough to see as turned your head, shaking in place seeing your future husband stand in the doorway.

“K-ken” you startledly whispered loud enough for him to hear while he was making his way to you, loosening his tie, his stoic face staying the same. He got on the bed, hovering over you, his tie and shirt lying somewhere on the floor as he inched closer to you, his nose almost touching yours.

“You know I love you right? He said, taking your left hand into his, grabbing the diamond ring on your finger, stroking it with his finger as it gleamed in the moonlight. You looking at his sliver one in return, too shy to face him after what just happened.

“y-yes” you wept locking eyes with him, your vision being blurry but still seeing his handsome face above you “I know it's my fault daddy. M-m’sorry”

“Shh, baby it's never your fault. Daddys sorry, he didn't know how needy you were, cmere.” he cooed bringing you closer to him. “Tell me what's on your mind. What's wrong honey?”

“Everything daddy… everything.” you complained, reaching to wipe your eyes again. He already knew what happened just from you saying that. And as usual the only reason his baby would cry was because of their job or a sad movie.

‘How about you just be my cute little wife and carry my babies; that's the only thing you'll ever have to do again, okay?” he said already having it in the back of his head ever since he first fell for you. After months of you sneaking him extra bread in his bag when he left the store, always smiling at him with your whole heart; it being the first time he's ever blushed, he was whipped.

“Mkay.” you sniffled, not even bothering or caring to fix your face. He was so kind. The idea sounding great in your head. Never having to see your mean boss again, always getting on you for the simplest things, leaving to go cry in the break room.

“There's my good girl.” he praised, kissing you forehead, dragging up your nightgown over your head, finally being bare for him, as his eyes took in your body. Loving every curve you had, kissing his way down your neck after staring with your eyes. Your salty tears being whisked away from his affection that he gave you, that you loved.

His lips met your chest, wrapping them around your nipple as he cupped that breast. Squeezing it gently while moving his hand from your thigh, his ring leaving an imprint there while grabbing your other breast. Flicking it with his finger, loving to hear the little whimpers you let out, so precious.

“Ken”

“You’re so wet” he said, attaching his lips to your puffy clit, sucking on it while shoving his long fingers into you soaking little cunt, curling them just like how you were daydreaming about earlier.

“Daddy- please.” you whined bucking into his mouth already so needy, not needing any prep, just wanting to be stuffed full.

“Gimme...”, you said, trying to form a sentence while his fingers were knuckle deep, hitting your g spot with ease.

“I got you my love” he said, already unbuckling his pants, taking a break from abusing your poor clit as you watched his cock pop out of his boxers. Mouth already watering thinking about taking it into your mouth, but pushing that to the side, knowing that he wouldn't say yes to that right now.

He hasn't seen a prettier sight in his life; your ankles by your ears, pussy begging for him to breed, his mind foggy as ever as you tell him to fuck a baby into you. Freezing at the words coming out of your sweet little mouth. But how could he tell his angel no?

“Open up for me sweetheart.” he muttered, imagining you so full and needy, not even being able to get up without him making him harder than ever. Sliding into you with no condom, as always, only on birth control. But the thought of it not doing its job got you even more hot and bothered, you head flooding with the thought of him fucking his cum back into you.

“Relax” he says, observing your face attentively.

“Youre so big daddy” you breathed out, eyes locking on his cock doing its best to fit in your little hole, even though you were drenched he still had to take it slow.

“it hurt?”

“No. just fuck me, please. I'll be a good girl, daddy please.” you whined already working your way to make him bottom out.

He puts his lips on yours to distract you, shoving his length all the way in. Catching your moans in his mouth, groaning into yours. Your sweet scent getting his mind hazy as you rested on the mattress, your greedy little hands placing themselves on his back as you grabbed him closer.

He pushed himself balls deep in you, not taking long for you tell him to move whining out for your “daddy to fuck you”. His cock nudging your cervix, slowly easing back and forth to ease the pain you didn't even notice.

You feel so full while trembling in his hold. Feeling so good to finally have him inside you. Knowing that he was doing his best to not just fuck into you, wanting to make you feel good like you deserved.

He breaks the kiss and buries his face in the mattress beside your head, leaving kisses on your neck, as your ankles were now on his shoulders, hips spread wide rough for him to abuse. Your lips brush against his arm while he's connecting his hands with yours. Your rings clashing while you accept, pulling him closer like it's possible.

He's kissing underneath your ear now he starts to move his hips. Moaning at the feeling of his fat cock finally stretching you out. Pulling all the way out except the tip before slamming his hips back into yours, both of you moaning at the feeling.

He continues fucking you deep and fast, knowing thats how you liked it. His big frame towering over yours, the comfy feeling of his weight on you, the heat radiating from his body making you feel like you were in heaven

“k-ken,” you mouthed not letting a word out but he read your pretty swollen lips. “you feel s-so good. d-ont pull out.”.

“When have i ever.” he stated, his voice unwavering as he brought his face to yours, seeing your eyes glossy and red, knowing you couldn't think straight right now. The only thing being on your mind was him. “You wanna be a mommy?”

“Y-yeah want your babies, want daddies babies, daddy please, please ple-” you whimpered out, clinging onto his shoulders admiring his body before you met his eyes. Overcome with the feelings you had inside you, wanting him to know as much as you. “Daddy -hahh i lov-e you.”

“I know baby... i love you too” he returned, placing his lips on yours as he continued fucking into your sloppy little hole that he was the cause of.

He grabs your thighs, spreading them apart more, your hips giving away. Almost lifting you up, fucking into you deeper than before. Your screaming with no noise coming out except gasps because your daddy fucking you so good, making your head spin. And all you can think about is having his babies, wanting him to cum in you so much that it never comes out.

“More” you begged, wanting to feel his cum dripping out of you.

Your orgasm, collecting itself all this time, finally hits you like a shockwave. So unannounced that you completely let go and turn limp and he's still manhandling you, getting himself off.

You don't even feel him stop, just feeling his hot cum pouring inside you before you realize your not being thrusted into anymore. You cunt still clenching around him, milking him for everything he’s got as he tunes you over, not pulling out. You now resting on top of him, both of you breathing heavily as you cum for the nth time feeling it drip down your thighs and onto his balls.

“Are you okay my love?”

You cant even talk now, you voice long gone from crying earlier to him fucking you. You just snuggle into his side, wrapping your arms around his bicep as he strokes your forehead, kissing it before you grab his face.

“Kiss” you pouted using your remaining strength to point to your lips.

He lets out a laugh, leaning down to give you what you want, as always. Breaking the kiss when you let out a moan again; his cock was not hard anymore but still took up all the room in you, if you moved it would move it you.

He repositions himself deep as he can inside without hurting you before noticing your swollen eyes starting to close. “Goodnight doll, love you.” he softly says kissing your forehead again

“Wait” You mummerd out, not opening your eyes but putting all your attention on him too. Wondering what you were gonna say as your soft sleepy smile appeared on your face. Cheeks all puffed out along with your lips. As you snuggled closer to his, mouth right up at his ear.

“G’night daddy, love you too”

#jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #Nanami smut #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen imagine

4K notes · View notes

itsdanii · 3 years

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Ahhh, your rejecting and regretting series is so good, my heart 🥺❤️ Can you do another one but with kuroo and kenma? You can ignore this request if you don’t wanna do it, I love your writing style and your blog! Stay safe and have a good day! 💞💞

Hey, bub! Thank you so much for the kind words, I appreciate it ♥️ I hope you don't mind me doing this only for Kenma. I got carried away so it got quite longer than I intended 🤦‍♀️ Anyway, here's your request! I hope you like it ♥️ Have a good day, stay safe and hydrated! Mwah!

a/n: read the note on the last part.

Rejecting and Regretting 6

genre: angst to fluff

warning/s: cursing, do message me if i missed any

a/n: please do read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason.

ft. timeskip!kenma kozume

title says it all

Masterlist | Updates

Kenma Kozume

When you moved in to your apartment, you never expected your neighbor to be THE Kenma Kozume

If truth be told, you've been a fan of his ever since he started streaming

You knew that he didn't know you nor would he pay attention to you so you did not bother telling him that you were a big fan - the first one to always comment when he starts streaming

Not only did you think that it may make him uncomfortable but also make him feel like you were only trying to befriend him for his reputation

One night, as you were coming back from a short trip to the grocery store, you were walking with your earphones in and nose pointed on the screen while rewatching one of his videos

What you didn't know was that Kenma was walking behind you and was actually staring as you smiled and giggled while watching

You almost squealed when a hand came on your shoulder, almost punching the person behind you

Oddly, that was the starting point of your friendship

Although Kenma was hesitant at first (duh, you almost punched him) , he slowly eased when he felt that you were genuine

You basically went from neighbors to roommates because of how often you went to his unit, just playing random games and having occasional sleepovers

It wasn't long then when you realized that your "fangirling" towards the streamer developed into something more

You realized that you were no longer looking at him as the Kodzuken of the gaming world but just Kenma Kozume

You knew that you were fucked and thus you tried hiding it, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't

So you came up with a solution - confess. You decided that you would take the leap, confess, and hope that everything would turn out well, not knowing that it was only one sided

You shifted from one foot to another as you waited for Kenma to open the door of his unit.

Earlier, you both planned another sleepover and you took the initiative to cook dinner for the two of you instead of ordering another takeout.

As you waited, you could feel your stomach grumbling as the scent of the freshly baked sushi wafted in the air.

To be honest, you weren't really a good cook but you taught yourself how to with the help of youtube and cookbooks. You weren't even planning on learning how to do it but you were getting bored of takeouts, plus, you also wanted to impress Kenma even for a bit.

When the door finally opened, you smiled widely at Kenma while showing the food you made.

"Told you to not bother knocking and just make your way inside," he muttered before taking the pan from you and letting you in.

"Unlike you, I have my manners, Kozume," you playfully said as you plopped yourself on the couch head first.

Hearing him mumbling something under his breath as he arranged the table, you propped your elbow on the couch to watch him with a small pout playing on your lips. Your eyes followed his every movement and you couldn't help but question how someone could look so perfect.

His hair was a mess in a half bun and he was wearing nothing fancy, just his old sweatpants and a hoodie. Despite that, he still managed to look like a model, specifically those who preferred the "woke up like this" look.

"Y/n, are you going to eat or not?"

You blinked your eyes when you noticed the frown plastered on Kenma's face. Immediately, you stood up and walked over to the table with a small blush on your cheeks after being caught daydreaming.

"Sorry," you said sheepishly.

Kenma's apartment was then filled with the sounds of utensils clanking and small conversations the two of you were sharing.

Even though it seemed like Kenma wasn't paying attention, you knew that he was listening. You were aware of how much he preferred listening and observing more than talking anyway. It's just that you wished that he would talk more around you.

Somewhere in your conversation, you tried hinting your feelings towards him. In fact, you think that it was pretty obvious, but it seemed like Kenma didn't notice - that or he was purposely avoiding to indulge you.

"Getting in a relationship with a fan isn't boring you know? It actually sounds exciting, to be honest."

At that, Kenma heaved a sigh which instinctively made you shut up.

His eyes were already casted on the food infront of him instead of you, eyebrows furrowed as if he was suddenly put in a bad mood. "I dont... really like this topic," Kenma said with a dismissive tone.

You felt your heart drop upon hearing that.

You've already practiced your confession several times and there was no way you'd let such words discourage you that easily. All you knew was that you had to get it out of your chest - now or never.

You placed your utensils down and looked at him straight in the eye despite him trying to avoid your gaze. "Why not, Kozume?" you asked, trying to push him to talk.

"I just don't see the point. Why would you want to date your fan? That's... weird," he simply answered, "What if they don't really like you? There's a high chance that a fan would date their idols because of popularity and fame. It's nothing but a self satisfaction."

"Hmm... I guess you do have a point," you said with a nod.

Placing your elbow on top of the table, chin resting on your palm, you pointed at yourself with your free hand which made Kenma look at you with one eyebrow raised. "Then what if it's me who wants to date you? Im a fan of yours, after all. Would you also reject me?" you asked hopefully.

Without wasting any second, Kenma answered, "Of course. Why would I date you?"

You didn't know how to react upon hearing that. You wanted to believe that he was trying to tease you but there weren't any signs of that from the tone of his voice. Moreover, he had nothing but a serious expression on his face.

"Because I like you," you answered with a low voice.

That simple phrase caused the silence to enevelope the two of you. The anticipation made your hands feel clammy to the point that you had to let go of your utensils to grip the sweatpants your were wearing.

Silently, you stared at each other as if waiting for the other person to break the silence - until Kenma did.

"Well, I don't." Standing up, Kenma took his plate and placed it on the sink, his back turned against you as he continued, "I think I'm going to stream for a bit. Make yourself comfortable."

You stared at Kenma as he made his way to his room wordlessly. "Make myself comfortable? Just who the fuck would say that after rejecting someone?" you muttered under your breath.

Knowing that it would be pointless to distract him while streaming, you started to clean the table and proceeded on washing the plates. As you were doing so, you whispered a curse when a tear suddenly slid down your cheeks.

You weren't supposed to cry. You prepared for this so you should've been able to take the rejection properly, right? He was Kenma Kozume after all. Although you became close with each other, it seemed as if he was really beyond your reach.

And now you ruined the only thing keeping you close to him - your friendship.

You decided to leave his unit after that. You felt that proceeding with the sleepover would only put a tense atmosphere between the two of you. Moreover, he did shut you out, right? Though he told you to make yourself comfortable, the way he acted said otherwise.

Maybe he only said it not to hurt your feelings.

"As if he hadn't already," you murmured, shutting and locking the door behind you.

In hopes of cheering yourself up, you decided to take a warm shower and pamper yourself to he point that skincare products basically littered your vanity when you finished and don't forget the fact that you ended up smelling like a strawberry because of your bodywash.

By the time you went to bed, you were feeling a little better... or were you?

As you laid on your bed, staring at the wall beside you while hugging a pillow close to your chest, your mind suddenly went back to what happened awhile ago.

You thought of how dismissive he seemed towards you. He wasn't always like that. Kenma had always been enthusiastic when you're around. Sometimes you would even end up watching beside him as he streams.

What changed?

Groaning, you buried your face on your pillow when you felt yourself tearing up once again. "Tomorrow will be better," you mumbled against the soft material as you slowly allowed yourself to fall asleep.

It didn't.

In fact, it got worse.

Not only was Kenma avoiding you, he was also acting as if he didn't know you - as if you didn't exist.

Earlier this morning when you were taking the trash out, you waved at him in hopes of lightening up the mood, but instead of usually greeting you, Kenma didn't even spare you a glance. He basically walked pass you without saying anything.

At first, you thought that maybe he didn't see you. Maybe his mind was elsewhere while walking. That could be possible right?

But when it continued for several more days, you realized that he was indeed avoiding you.

You felt a mixture of pain and anger. You were supposed to be the one avoiding him since it was him who rejected you but why was it the other way around? He could've atleast talked to you, let alone smile. Did he not value even just your friendship?

As the days went on, you were slowly getting tired of being the only one to put effort on rekindling your relationship. It was exhausting to keep on chasing over someone who didn't even acknowledged you.

Maybe you were just a bother to him after all.

So despite your will to keep on getting his attention, you decided to stop. If he didn't want you then so be it. You already confessed and did your best to show him that you're genuine. That's all that matters.

Kenma stared at your door beside his intensely, hand mid-air to turn the knob of his own unit.

It had been two weeks since he last saw you and for the third time of the day, he was yet again met with nothing but silence when he tried knocking on your door.

Where were you?

He knew that how he acted towards you was unreasonable but he didn't expected himself to wake up feeling like shit everyday without seeing you. He did this. He pushed you away. He said he didn't like you, right?

Groaning frustratedly, Kenma entered his unit, heading straight to his streaming room to cool off his head. If he couldn't see you personally, then perhaps he could at least see your name on his viewers.

He knew you always watched his stream and how you would always be the first to comment. Sometimes, you would even donate a huge amount of cash as a tip even though you always complained about being broke.

"They're not watching?" Kenma said unconsciously as he noticed how your name wasn't on the list.

That instantly caused a ruckus in his stream's comment section. Several fans kept on asking who Kodzuken was referring to and some even got the right answer since he streamed with you several times already.

But instead of saying anything, Kenma stayed silent. He focused on his game, occasionally shifting his eyes to the comment section and interacting with his fans.

His eyes, however, caught one comment. It was a link with the caption "Isn't this y/n?". Out of curiosity, Kenma decided to check it, finding out that you were indeed the person in the video.

No, it wasn't a video. It was a live stream of someone like him - a player.

And there you were, seated beside the unfamiliar person with a fluffy blanket wrapped around your body and your your head resting on their shoulder.

Who was that and why did you look too comfy?

"Sorry, guys. I'll have to end the stream now. Something important came up," Kenma said with a small wave before ending his stream.

Stalking the other streamer's socials, Kenma frowned upon noticing several pictures of you attached in their instagram. They were even posted just a few days ago which meant that you must've been spending time with them throughout the days you weren't at home.

Something stirred inside Kenma. It was an unpleasant feeling blooming inside his chest, clawing at him and making him realize one important thing.

He was in love with you.

And it was only confirmed when he remembered how nervous he was when you confessed, how scared he was when he heard the door shutting after he rejected you, and how stupid he was for only realizing it now.

"Shit," he whispered to himself as he quickly tapped on his phone, his finger hovering over your number, debating wether or not should he dial.

Suddenly, he shifted his gaze on the monitor of his pc which was still displaying the unfamiliar streamer when he noticed how you snuggled closer to their side.

Muttering anther curse, Kenma clicked on your number, his eyes focused on the montior of his laptop as he watched you picking up your phone.

"Please pick up," he pleaded when he noticed the frown on your face.

It took him a full 5 minutes and several dials to finally make you give in. He watched as you whispered something on the person beside you before making your way out of the room.

On cue, your voice suddenly met his ear.

"Kozume?"

It was still as soft as he could remember and with the fact that he finally admitted his feelings, his cheeks burned when he felt his heart racing.

Say it. Say it.

Say you like her.

"I-" pausing for a moment to rethink his words, Kenma sighed deeply before answering, "I'm sorry for being mean."

Fuck.

He was met with silence from the other side and for a moment, he got scared that you dropped the call.

It was until he heard some rustling sound that he realized you were still there and was purposely trying to stay quiet.

"Can we talk about this in person?" you said with a tiny voice.

Out of panic, Kenma nodded, forgetting that he was ralking to you over the phone and not in person. Mentally smacking himself, he answered, "Yes. I'd prefer that."

And I'd prefer if you're here instead of that caveman's room.

"Then, I'll be there in 20."

The moment Kenma heard someone knocking, he was quick to open the door.

His lips basically parted at the sight of you. It was only two weeks and yet why did it felt like he hadn't seen you in a month?

"Kozu-"

"I'm sorry," he cut you off, arms wrapping around you as soon as you stepped inside his apartment.

He felt how your body became stiff in his hold and without wasting any chance, he poured everything out. "I'm sorry for how I acted towards you. I treated you as if you were the last person I wanted to be with and when I didn't see you for several days, I realized how much I hurt your feelings." He took a deep breath, eyes focusing on you as he gripped your shoulders slightly. "Forgive me? I promise that I'll make it up to you."

Kenma hoped that you could notice the genuineness in his voice. He wasn't the type of person to talk too much but for you, he'd do it if it means having you forgive him and give him another chance.

"It's... alright, Kozume," you answered with a small smile.

"It's alright?" Kenma asked slowly. He knew that he should be happy that you forgave him easily but the way you said it made it seem like you were only forcing yourself.

It's like you didn't mean it.

"W-what do you mean it's alright?" he repeated.

"It means exactly what it means. I don't really see the point of holding a grudge against you, you know? You rejected me and I accepted it." Shrugging your shoulders, you walked pass him and went to sit on the couch. "I guess I just got too ahead of myself. I mean, you're Kenma Kozume, the Kodzuken of the gaming world. It would be impossible for you to like me, right? Sorry if I made you uncomfortable with my confession."

Kenma swallowed the lump forming inside his throat, eyes darting away from your figure as he shook his head no. "No... That's not true."

"What do yo-"

"I like you. How could you ever think that low of yourself?" he said, finally looking at you before he walking towards your direction. "It's not Kodzuken to you, y/n. Kozume - just Kozume. I don't want you to think that I'm someone all high and mighty just because people acknowledge me. I don't care about that. I want you. I want you to look at me the same way you did before. I want you to keep on clinging to me and to keep on cooking for me despite not knowing how to. I want you to like me again. I just want you.."

You felt your eyes well up with tears. After a long time of pining over someone you thought you wouldn't be able to reach, it was finally here - the moment you finally manage to hear the words you've longed to hear from him.

"D-do you mean that?" you asked with a small sob, your hand covering your face as you felt yourself being lifted and placed on Kenma's lap. "What if you're only saying that to make me feel better?"

"Of course I mean it. I was too stupid being scared of acknowledging my feelings towards you that I ended up rejecting you. I'm sorry." Gently, Kenma rubbed your back as he kept you in his arms, words of apologies continue slipping past his lips as he waited for you to stop crying.

"If I told you I still like you, would you promise not to treat me like shit again?" you asked while wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. "You were really mean to me, Kozu."

"I'd promise," Kenma answered with a nod.

Looking at him, you sniffled one more time. "Then I still like you," you said without taking your eyes off him.

You didn't fail to notice how Kenma's cheeks turned a lighter shade of red and the thought of how he got more flustered by your second confession than the fact that you were seated on his lap made you smile a little.

"Oh," Kenma uttered, as if suddenly not knowing how to react.

"You're supoosed to kiss me like those cliche movies," you said while encircling your arms around his neck.

Kenma's blushed even deeper after hearing that. Gulping, he gave a stiff nod before leaning in and finally planting his lips on yours.

His lips were soft against yours. Despite how tense he was at the beginning, he slowly managed to relax, fingers interlocking with your hair as he kept on moving his lips in synch with yours, both of your eyes closed as you savored the moment.

You felt yourself smiling in your kiss as you realized something - no longer were you just a fan but his s/o.

If you're reading this, hello.

I've decided that this will be the last part of the rejecting and regretting series. Though I had a lot of fun writing these, I'm no longer satisfied with how I'm writing them. The scenes were slowly becoming repetitive as well as the words. I'm craving for something new- something fresh that I've yet to explore. It was quite overwhelming how much people loved this series and I'm very thankful for that so I feel a little bad that this would be the last one. Don't worry, I still have some stuff brewing up that I hope you'd all enjoy.

Thank you so much for the love, support, and most importantly, for reading the series up until this last one. ♥️

1K notes · View notes

ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Note

Omg I'm SO sorry!!! I'm the soulmates pain AU anon, I was completely aware you were the one with the milestone!! I saw the post through Molly's rb and I was almost completely sure I had opened your blog to send you the ask but alas, the Tumblr app can never give you any certainties. That long-ass message was completely dedicated to you, I still can't quite grasp how I managed to send it to scribbledghost 🙄🙄🙄 Sorry!!! Congrats again, I love you!!!!

for reference a Din Djarin x reader soulmate request where your soulmate feels your injuries and pain

hello, dear heart!

I wanted to say, before anything else, thank you. I've reread your words multiple times since you sent this, confirming they were to me, and they really mean the world to me. thank you so, so much! anyway, your idea is fantastic, I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope you like seeing what I did with your already wonderful thoughts 💕

ps it's well documented that I'm a big fan of sprawling thoughts, so please never apologize for sharing them!

warnings: mentions canon-typical injuries, a bunch of fluff. at least enough for a couple of throw pillows

soulmate requests / follower celebration

There's a short burn on his forearm when he wakes.

Din stares at it, wondering at the dull ache, trying to place the injury from yesterday's adventure when it hits him. Hot and golden warmth, flooding through his chest, thawing his flesh against the cold filtered air.

It's one of yours.

A burn, on his forearm.

And selfishly, indulgently, he pauses for a moment, mind slipping away from duty and expectations to dwell in the daydream of his soulmate.

First, his mind creates an image of a blurry mandalorian caretaker, gently moving around a kitchen in the covert. You stir a pot, tapping the spoon on the side before setting it down. Hearing distant calls, you turn too quickly and oh - a sliver of burn along your arm.

Din wants to help, wants to pull you away from the domestic .... danger, and he rushes forward. Your helmet turns to him and he almost sees it - before his mind can no longer produce the answers he aches for late at night.

The second image is of you, in armor as gleaming as his own, in a thick, unrecognizable forest. The hairs on his neck are at full attention, already subconsciously wanting to shout - but you don't need his help. You're breathtaking in all versions of his daydream - but watching you fight with practiced ease punches the air from his lungs. For a moment he feels self-conscious of his awkward maneuvers and slapdash fighting but then his mind pulls him back. You're protecting someone, or else you wouldn't have messed up - you never do, injuries from you are too rare - but you shove them behind you, shooting an enemy over your shoulder before your helmet snaps back. There are so many - you're surrounded - and a hot, sharp blaster bolt grazes your forearm before your fury is truly unleashed.

He runs his fingers over the burn, almost giddy at the possibilities.

Mandalorians are few and far between, but he's grateful he has a soulmate, and even more thankful you've kept yourself out of harm's way almost entirely, since you'd been connected.

As he dons his layers, the shine of his armor reflects bruises and scrapes littered across the expanse of his skin. His own, from his journey, and one beautiful little burn from his soulmate.

And then they're covered, and the armor is tied securely in place, and he leaves his daydreams in the room as the ship door slides unceremoniously shut.

You hiss at the burn, clutching your arm.

Great. Just what you needed - another injury to add to your impressive collection.

At least my soulmate gets a gift from me this time. You roll your eyes.

The vendor next to your stall is a sweet lady, already apologizing for her steaming pots and pans and offering you compensation.

The credits would be nice, but you could hardly justify taking anything, especially since it was your soulmate's fault your body was riddled with aches and pains in the first place.

Waving your hand, you accept her counter offer - a bowl of her perfect broth and noodles - before retreating. You sell cloth, from beautiful dyed lengths tucked away to sturdy, unstainable blacks, and it was days like today that you thanked your stars for that choice.

There's a thick pile in the middle that you perch on, sinking into the folds as your body cries at you, and you sigh over your soup in relief. The burden of waking to webbing bruises and sprawling scrapes and the more-than-occasional broken bone is eased by your stall - sitting and haggling until the sun goes down. That is, unless there's drama in the market, as it seems there is today.

In the distance you hear shouts, more than those of vendors selling meat on sticks to passing warriors and merchants - the taunts of drunkards.

Someone is coming, and you almost laugh when you see his form in the distance, because he's trying and failing to be inconspicuous. It's impossible, with his gleaming armor, but still he ducks into shadowy spots, forgetting - or maybe ignoring - their inhabitants.

"A Mandalorian has graced our market," your neighbor remarks dryly. They were respected, but it was well known that chaos followed them. You share a look, both wishing you were wealthy enough to conpletely pack up shop. If anything, a logical person would put away most of the stock and hunker down for a few hours. Weighing the odds was difficult: if you were lucky, the chaos wouldn't bother your business, and shoppers might be drawn out, hoping for entertainment and spending as they waited. If you weren't, a wayward burst of plasma or blaster fire would destroy your whole month's stock.

You looked at him again, the Mandalorian kneeling down the street. His form was... almost handsome, formidable but careful. He was light on his feet, seemingly with gentleness on his mind, and it drew you in like a moth to flame. You decided to stay, and hope for the best, your curiosity pulsing like your bruises.

And you were lucky, that day, because he ducked away not a moment later, taking the exciment with him.

Until, he came back the next day, this time on the prowl, stalking up and down the edge of Dicer's Row, one hand on his blaster and the other atop a bulky, wriggling bag. This time, you ventured to stand, folding and refolding your displays as you watched him through your lashes.

And then he made his move, and you sighed, feigning a yawn to cover your disappointment from your neighbor's knowing smile. She shouldn't be wiggling her eyebrows over the box wall between you - honestly his type were more annoying than anything. A crash from the alley confirmed it: there was no way a guy like that cared about his soulmate. The gentleness from before was surely a trick of the light.

Your whole side lit up with pain, the impact of something hard against your whole side and you groaned, settling into your mound again. Any curiosity or attraction was snuffed under your annoyance and pain, and your mood soured like fruit left unpicked on the tree.

Selfish, you thought, glaring as a chicken ran squawking from the commotion. What a jerk.

The next day, you tried to maintain the sentiment, huffing as he wandered the stalls.

Why does he keep coming back?

You'd have thought his time here was over when he'd dragged that lowlife out of town yesterday. But here he was, buying a crock of soup at the stall next to you, and ignoring her comments about how he couldn't eat it with his helmet on.

She had warmed to him, since he'd put money in her pocket, chattering in a way that kept him stuck for long moments.

It struck you as strange - he almost seemed too awkward to leave, like her returned generosity actually meant something to him. A man like him... surely could've just walked away.

But he stayed for awhile, nodding and looking at the spoons she carved in her free time, and you almost thought he was looking at you, too. Then he ducked his head and planted himself in front of you, and certainly he was.

For all the years you'd spent weaving words to sell your fabrics and goods, you'd never been so speechless. The Mandalorian was large, sharp, shining edges and bulky canvas packs tied to his shoulders - he seemed out of place, filling your whole stall, shuffling as he loomed over you.

He asked for soft brown things - children's clothes.

"Of course, I - I mean, yes, just over here -" you tripped over your words, caught completely off guard by the shape of him, the feel of him just an arms width away, and his request. You stumbled from your seat, nearly toppling in your hurry and his gloved hand wrapped around your arm, catching you.

"You're injured," he stated not really asking. It was... overwhelmingly intimate, him knowing, and acknowledging it, like he cared.

"Yeah, my..." you swallowed, trying not to get lost in the dark glass inches from your face. "My self-centered soulmate keeps getting himself nearly killed."

Even with your heart thumping in your chest, you couldn't keep the bite from your words, bitterness having collected over years of nursing injuries that were consequences of someone else's actions. He didn't let go of you for a moment, his helmet pulling back and tilting, like he was startled.

Then he was cautious, unbearably so, releasing his grip like a child freeing a captured creature when it was time. The topic was dropped, and he made his purchase quickly, but before he left, he paused. The Mandalorian's gloved hand ghosted over your cheek, slowly moving a hair back into it's place, and if you hadn't known better, it was almost an apology.

And then, thick cape swirling in the dust, tiny clothes in tow, he swept away, leaving you along with your whole body alight with a foreign longing.

Din felt as though he'd been stabbed.

Hot, hot feelings poured through his chest, spreading fast as fire as he desperately tried to sort through them.

You - you were incredible, fragile and bruised, with the most stunning, determined eyes he had ever seen. Not a Mandalorian, and you had a ... a soulmate, a fucker who left your skin littered with marks, burdening you with ...

He felt panicked, shocked, and guilty, just as he had when you'd told him. It had never occred to him that his soulmate might be there... out there, constantly burdened by his recklessness. His body screamed for attention, something he so often ignored, but this time, he was almost deafened by it.

His feet, legs, arms, chest, heart - all of them wanted him to return to you, in your little fabric stall. To... what? Truly, he hadn't the slightest idea, so his mind won out, shaking a little to try to reign in the muscles that he'd taught to obey him.

He couldn't go to you.

But, he couldn't stay away.

He was back in the market, and this time, he wasn't being subtle about staring at you.

Tall and ... slow, he waded through the crowds, making his was towards you like he was following a careful path.

"Can I help you?" You stood, moving almost involuntarily towards him. "Was there something wrong with my -" he was already shaking his head, hands reaching to make you shush.

Waiting, an irrational part of your mind wished he would touch you again, would place his big hands on your skin and sooth the aches that haunted your life. It was unfair, but you didn't stop it, couldn't if you tried.

Carefully, he slid a single finger to your arm, pushing up your sleeve to reveal the little burn you'd gotten.

He was being gentle. It made you want to stomp your feet, jealously welling up in your heart like bile, bitter and hot. How could it be, that someone so powerful had learned so quickly, wanted to, and he wasn't - he wasn't even your -

Then he moved again, pushing up his own sleeve and your thoughts tumbled over each other. It was intimate, even more than before, desperately trusting, as his skin near glowed in the morning light. And there was a burn on his skin, hairs singled like they'd met the edge of a pot of boiling broth.

You wanted to punch him. This man has spent years tossing his body around like he had one one spare, making your own as brittle as bread crust and - you wanted to kiss him. This man had learned after a single day, the impact of his actions, and had been nothing but kind.

The forehead of his helmet pressed into yours, and the two sides of your mind compromised.

Later, words would come - they had to.

But now, your eyes closed, and you sighed. He had the rest of your life to make it up to you - and he would, you were sure.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk @saradika @zinzinina

#din djarin x reader #soulmate requests #anonymous and elle #elle only posts soulmate rqs at weird hours thats the rule

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5uptic · 3 years

Text

crewfu: fanfic spotlight!

We work together by Anonymous (5up & DK, unrated, gen | 248 words)

Summary: One likes plants and baking, the other loves to create and design video games. They stay up and create monstrosities together, it's their fun, it's their favourite game. Aka a 5up and Dk roommate au!

No matter how life tangles, I’m still here with you. by hungryandsleepy (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 279 words)

Summary: 5up has been working so hard on his new map, and of course, he needs someone to give him a motivation to go to sleep.

objectively pretty by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 462 words)

Summary: steve is drunk. he's pretty sure 5up is too. that doesn't mean being called pretty is any less momentuous.

you plus me by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 489 words)

Summary: 5up and Steve meet.

he said to me by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 656 words)

Summary: 5up and Steve share a moment.

by the snowmen by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 670 words)

Summary: Steve has a moment when it's all over.

today you got to know me (a little bit too slowly) by runninohhoney (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 675 words)

Summary: Steve lights up a cigarette. 5up doesn't smoke.

what would it take by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 787 words)

Summary: It's Steve's first mission. He hecks up. Or does he?

sorta cute by floweruru (5up/Steve, unrated, m/m | 822 words)

Summary: ‘I wouldn’t do that,’ he said. ‘That’s just disrespectful,’ he said. Yet there was 5up, crushed like a can in Steve’s embrace, feebly kicking at nothing as his feet leave the pavement.

i was gonna kill u, but ur kinda cute?? by Cthulhuer (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1k words)

Summary: Steve is a mess and 5up is worse.

I hear a Symphony by AwkwardAce (5up/Fundy, unrated, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: He exhaled until his lungs ached for air, fingers twitching as he opted to remove the sleek white gloves he wore in a feeble effort to soothe himself. It didn’t work. He wrung his trembling hands together as his eyes raked down the worn leather case taking in the doodles- some etched some drawn- across the faded surface. He snapped the buckles open and his breath hitched, catching in his already tight throat. For a moment the world span, his head throbbed and he wanted nothing more than to run and hide. 5up breathed out slowly, shakily.

staring by lytriis (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: steve asks 5up out. 5up doesn’t know how to respond.

and it's four am, and yet, you're here by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: in which steve shows up at 5up's house, in the middle of the night, completely spontaneously

more than this by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: Steve catches 5up venting.

3:15 by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: Steve tries to guess Five's name. It's much more difficult than he anticipated.

things were different by fourpebbles (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.5k words)

Summary: His eyes circled around to his friends, Kimi and Janet engaging in pleasant comversation, sleepy and becoming increasingly more sober. He looked, finally, across him, and caught Dumbdog staring at him. What now bro, what did this guy want. small talk, turns into not small talk, then there's no talk

Once Upon A Dream by SmearedWords (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.5k words)

Summary: 5up looks ethereal, while Steve is struggling to breathe. "You're not real either." Or: Steve has a crush and a nightmare in three parts, 5up is tired, the crew life is hard and Polus sucks.

the ones you love will call you back by homeward_bound (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.8k words)

Summary: stevesuptic: dude, is it weird that i miss vegas DumbDog: No? I do too. stevesuptic: okay [steve misses vegas and apollo. they talk about it]

cough it out by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: Apollo thinks that Steve must be well and truly gone, at this point, because he giggles, like Apollo’s just told a particularly funny joke. He looks Apollo right in the eye and asks, “Do you trust me?” “Absolutely not.”

ivy by Secular_Czar (5up/Steve, teen rating, gen | 2.1k words)

Summary: It might be a sad day, in general, but Steve isn't about to let it get to him. His friends won't ever let him wallow either.

The Colosseum by WhenTheFogClears (general rating, gen | 2.1k words)

Summary: Five squinted, looking at the colosseum intensely. He thinks Apollo was latched onto the sphinx’s shoulder, fur matted with blood. Janet was slumped against a column, probably out, with Kimi whose bow was snapped in two, her leg twisted at an odd angle. DK was in the corner trying to cast various supporting hexes and charms with a broken arm, whilst Hafu was dragging a heavily bandaged Steve away. or 5up slaughters a cat

Oneshots :) by woofles1990 (5up/Fundy, 5up/Steve, teen rating, multi | 2.5k words, oneshot collection)

Summary: Just a bunch of MCYT/Among Us oneshots, mainly featuring 5up's crew because yes :)

the adventures of 5up and steve staying up late because they're under 30 by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.5k words)

Summary: “The night is young!” Steve yells at the ceiling, throwing his hands up in the air. “Take advantage of it! Commit crimes! Fuck hoes!” Five catches his hands in the air and laughs. “You wish you had hoes.”

unreasonably in love by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.6k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: "It was like pieces of a puzzle, everything coming together. And now, here they are, standing in their apartment, which looks more like a hollow shell than a home, filled solely with scattered boxes and the minuscule amount of furniture that they brought with them to Vegas." Or: what happens after Apollo and Steve move in together.

cant be love by fourpebbles (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 3.5 words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: He had chuckled to himself, he felt so stupid. Who in their fucking minds names a playlist 'sugr?', he thought, internally cringing. A story where a Steve meets an Apollo, and some things happen.

Somewhere in the darkness, us together for a while by tumtummeke (Apollo & Kimi & Steve, teen rating, gen | 3.6k words)

Summary: Apollo worries about Steve. Steve breaks his vape pen. Kimi plays power washer. Self-indulgent angst, with a generous helping of friendship and cuddles.

odyssey by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 23k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: "First you will come to the Sirens who enchant all who come near them. If any one unwarily draws in too close and hears the singing of the Sirens...they warble him to death with the sweetness of their song. Therefore pass these Sirens by and stop your men's ears with wax that none of them may hear." -Homer, The Odyssey

Also: SilverSprinklez10‘s yupwaves collection.

Summary: This is a Harry Potter AU based on the characters/personas of the youtubers/streamers.

FAQ:

Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)

How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.

What’s the format like?:

[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s), if there is one/multiple], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k] ([added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not)])

Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]

(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)

Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!

Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)

Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!

Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!

So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.

I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji... you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).

Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).

show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)

I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed (but this is the first one! lol).

Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3

#crewfu #fanfic spotlight

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writer-akihiko · 3 years

Note

Hello, may I kindly request for a threesome for Ray, Alice and Lancelot please? 🙈🙈🙈 thank you and have a great day! 💖💖💖

[NSFW] Kings' Indulgence - Ray X Reader X Lancelot

If you are under 18, do not read. This work contains sex and other sexual themes. Please also consider blocking the #not family friendly tag on my blog because I still will be posting that kind of content.

Wooooh! I hope you're happy with this, I made it extra extra spicy and thank you for requesting this wonderful spice!

The leading kings of both the Black and Red Armies were no less than passionate when it came to their indulgences.

You just so happen to be the main indulgence they both fight over.

To quell the kings' competition, you had proposed a tempting game of an innovative strip poker for the night. With you as the dealer, Lancelot and Ray would have no issues going all out, and you had to admit you always got excited when they fought over you.

You fasten the red and black garter belt to your socks, running your hand over the lingerie one more time, before entering the room where your kings were. Lancelot and Ray sat across from each other, although you never caught what they were conversing about as both men froze at the sight of you.

You had to still your heart as you heard Ray curse under his breath, and the way Lancelot loosened his tie as you walked on over to them. You saw the deck of cards arranged at the end of the table, so you couldn't help but tease them a little, bending over the table to display yourself for them. This time, you heard Lancelot curse, and perhaps a tiny moan from Ray.

You stood up once more, shuffling the cards and dealing them. With the remaining cards, you halved them and left one half on the table.

"This is the loser's deck," You pointed to the half of cards you placed on the table. "And this…" You showed the men the other half. "Is the winner's deck, which you can draw here."

You slipped some cards in between your bra, making sure that the card values were against your skin. You then picked a few to go to the straps of your thong, and a couple more in the band of elastic of your thigh highs.

The simple act made them more competitive, the fire in their eyes somehow heating up your skin.

Lancelot spoke up first. "King of Spades… We shouldn't keep YN waiting…"

"For once, I agree with you."

The first round was quick, with Lancelot beating Ray by a landslide. They did bet with actual money, but it was a silent agreement that the actual prize was yourself and the money later on would be split back to buy you a present. You however, got a little anxious as they both were aggressive in their betting since this rule was unknown to you.

Ray grumbled, drawing his new cards from the table deck. Lancelot wasted no time pulling you onto his lap, glancing over you to decide where he should draw his cards. He settled for the card popping up between your breasts, biting the skin of your collarbone before drawing the card between his teeth.

Before they started the round again, Ray got up, having to fulfill the second part of the punishment which was to strip.

"YN…" He called out, his hands going to his waist. "Don't focus too much on Lancelot, remember, I'm still here."

Your eyes followed his hands, as Ray unbuckled his belt. He snapped it open, and your eyes glossed over his bulge as he whips out the belt from his pants. He noticed you staring, combing his hair through his head as he tossed his belt on the floor.

The second round continued, and after having a taste of you, it only drove their will - and their desire - harder just to have you. As you completed the River of the House cards, it was clear that Ray had won. Lancelot huffed in annoyance, running his hand around your waist, glaring at Ray before letting you go.

Ray cupped your ass, his hand slipping in between the fabric and your skin, his fingertips ghosting over your lower half. He cheekily stuck his tongue out at Lancelot, before pulling you into a kiss. Lancelot gritted his teeth as he saw Ray sit you on him, your thighs on each side of his legs.

The kiss didn't last long, as you had to make it fair to Lancelot. As you raised your leg to separate yourself from Ray, he sneaked his hand to nip a card that was stuck at your thong, patting your ass as you prepared the cards for the next round.

Before you could reach for the next cards, Lancelot stopped your wrist, getting up.

"I haven't stripped myself yet, don't hurry it…"

You retracted your hand, sitting yourself on the stool as Lancelot unbuttoned his shirt, rolling the shirt off his body and giving you a little tease. He shrugged his red blouse off his shoulders, running his hands down his abs and licking his lips at you.

Rounds and rounds went on, with Lancelot and Ray gaining wins and losses one after the other. They messed with you and your lingerie even more, leaving kisses and hickies near your neck and shoulders and their fingers brushing all over your skin.

It would be almost the last rounds, with both men in their boxers. Even though you didn't participate in the card game, your body was still sweating from the kings purposefully sitting you on their hard ons. In retaliation you'd grind your hips teasingly, sometimes getting reactions out of each of them.

Down to the last cards, it ended in a draw. The last round finished with both having the exact same matches. You grew nervous, wondering what they would do to resolve this.

"Man… I really didn't want to share you YN…" Ray muttered, taking you in his arms and carrying you bridal style. Lancelot kissed your ears, then putting the clothes they both tossed on the chairs and cleaning up the cards.

"Well it's either we share or we don't indulge in our YN," Lancelot pointed out. After Ray had set you down, both men stood in front of you, stripping off the remains of the clothing on their body.

You felt such an intense heat to your cheeks and ears as they confidently revealed their hard members. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping that they don't notice the small wet patch that stained the bed.

Ray's fingers ran over his hair, glancing over your curled self. "Hey Lancelot… YN's still clothed isn't she? Shouldn't we remedy that?"

Lancelot only nodded, moving to your right side as Ray took the other. Lancelot's fingers ran over your spine, fiddling with the clasp of the bra. Ray on the other hand ran his hands to your lower half, finally getting to shove his hand down those panties.

Lancelot snapped the bra off, his hands tugging off the bra. His mouth kissed down your shoulder, latching his lips to one of your breasts and kneading the other with his free hand. Ray tugged your thong off, moving his body in between your thighs. He pushed one of your legs up, Lancelot's other free hand holding it up. Ray had one hand holding up the other, his hand and tongue loosening up your pussy.

He played with your clit, slowly pushing his fingers in and out. "YN… You naughty girl you've been waiting for us to play with you huh?"

"YN did you cause us both to win so you can have both of us?" Lancelot stopped to lick the tip of your nipple, switching breasts. "Ray, we have no choice but to indulge in this don't we?"

Ray moaned, touching your entrance with the tip of his tongue. Your body spasmed, causing Ray to push his tongue further into you. "Oh… YN's so delicious…"

Before you could cum, they separated from you and Lancelot pushed your hips close to his hard cock, and Ray teased your pussy more. "YN… You can take both of us right?"

You hesitated, shivering underneath their touch. Ray kissed your ears, assuring you. "Lancelot can use a stretching spell if you want YN… Just say the word."

You wordlessly nodded, your body so hot that you didn't care that you endlessly teased and grinded over their cocks. Lancelot muttered the spell, his fingers spreading and teasing your entrance as he did. Ray's cock slid in between your cheeks, his tip poking your entrance. Once Lancelot was done, he nodded to Ray as he rubbed himself over, enjoying your embarrassed face.

Ray lined himself up, slowly pushing himself into your pussy, groaning as every single inch entered you. As he sheathed himself in, you held onto Lancelot, shuddering at the feeling. Ray didn’t thrust himself fully, as Lancelot still had to sheath himself in too.

"Ray… Ray you're mm…" You moaned out, pushing your hips further into the King of Spades.

"My dear, it's my turn…" He brought your hips closer, and Ray thrusted out slowly, leaving a little room for Lancelot. Lance went first, then Ray quickly joined him. You held onto Lancelot tighter, grinding your hips so their hard cocks would sheath in you.

Both men groaned, feeling your juices slip out of your pussy and coating them. For once, the kings worked together to thrust in you in rhythm. You let them ravage you, their cocks always filling you to the brim.

"M-More…" You whimpered. Ray and Lancelot took turns kissing you, their thrusts more erratic as they came to their high. You came first, squirting all over them, and your body pulling them closer to you.

"YN… So good, cumming from both cocks in you…" Ray moaned.

Lancelot grunted, dragging his cock along your walls. "Take all of us, YN… Take all our desire for you…"

They moaned, panting as they both thrusted their last, releasing their full load into you. Lancelot and Ray caught you, Ray exiting you first then Lancelot. They laid you on the bed, Ray massaging your hips and Lancelot cleaning you up. You were tired, leaning into both of the kings' chests, cuddling them both.

"YN… Thank you for letting us indulge you," Ray said, kissing your forehead.

Lancelot brought the covers over you, kissing your cheek. "YN… Our one and only queen… You're our only indulgence."

You slept comfortably in your kings' arms, well-loved and cared for, as you dreamt of being their indulgence once more. No fear, YN, as they would only continue to express their desire for you as the only queen they'd love.

#ikemen revolution #ikerev #lancelot kingsley #ray blackwell #lancelot x reader #ray x reader #ikerev smut #lancelot smut #ray smut #lancelot x reader x ray #ray x reader x lancelot #not family friendly

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

Note

Hiiii yes!!! I absolutely love the way you write!! I'm so glad I accidentally stumbled across your blog!!! If it's okay, may I ask for some nsfw headcanons with Beelzebub and Mammon (separately) with a VERY sub female s/o? Completely fine if not tho!! Keep up with the amazing work!!!

Say Hiiii so yes I saw that you write nsfw now and uhhhhhhh, may I ask for some headcanons with Beel x a very sub!f!reader? Completely fine if not!!! Thank you :) hewwo 💕nsfw for the obey me boys with a really sub mc who just wants to be dominated?

(idk if i wrote the fandom, so sending it twice, sorry) nsfw headcanons for obey me with a sub/bottom reader

—

I hope nobody minds, but I got 4 different asks with the same type of request, so I’m mashing them together

Also, I really hope any NSFW stuff I write is okay! I’m really not that great at writing it, so I hope you all enjoy this!

Lucifer

( I’m so happy that I got this sticker okay - And the other side of the card now, too, thanks Devil Flower! )

Lucifer is the epitome of a dominant top, so he’s perfect for you, especially if you WANT him to dominate you.

He doesn’t even try, it only comes natural to him - Everything about him - His gaze, his composure, his self-esteem, his pride, his confidence, his aura, his stature, everything about him SCREAMS dominant.

While yes, he will be having you squirming under him, a moaning mess calling our his name with no inhibitions or shame, he will still hold himself back the first few times, until/if he knows your boundaries, kinks and fetishes.

Lucifer would either have you undress for him, slowly, to admire your whole body, or would tease you with his ungloved hands by tracing every curve of your body with gentle and soft touches that make you want more.

His kisses are out of this world, hot and passionate with a small tint of rough, but never messy.

He actually loves biting your bottom lip, tugging on it slightly, teasing you a lot, loving to hear your whimper.

Prepare for either multiple orgasms, or a lot of edging and orgasm denial, because unless you’re begging for your sweet release, you won’t have any mercy from this one.

—

Mammon

Despite having a huge power bottom or submissive energy, he won’t care what role he has to do, as long as you’re enjoying it.

He has some big self-esteem issues, but honestly, if you two are having fun in bed, then he really trusts you a lot, and he won’t think or feel down in any way, so he will focus only on you and your pleasure.

He loves you so much that he wants to make sure you get multiple orgasms, he wants you to be happy, to love him, to enjoy being in his arms, to enjoy his touch.

He loves the Missionary position, if he has to top, because he can hold you close to his body, look you in the eyes, kiss your cheeks, forehead, lips, neck, jawline and cleavage as much as he wants.

Mammon loves seeing your cheeks get pink and when you look away as you’re feeling good and shift around, panting for air or biting your lip, trying to hide your moans.

Expect a loooot of compliments and body-worship because this boy literally venerates the ground you walk on, that’s how much he loves you, and he will do anything to make sure you’re happy, and you know you’re perfect inside and out, and that you’re more beautiful than any star, in his eyes.

—

Leviathan

With Levi, it takes long until he gets riled up enough for him to be a DomTop, especially since he’s such a SubBot, a little blushy tsundere who likes to have someone dominate/top him, since it will spare him a lot of embarrassment.

However, that doesn’t mean he’s a bad DomTop, on the contrary, if he’s in the mood, he will be the best guy you’ve ever made love with.

It’s enough for him to see you in a short skirt, thigh highs, cute hairstyles that look anime-ish, or any cosplay/clothes with cosplay potential, and that’s it, he’s your guy for the whole night, he won’t leave you alone.

He’d put you in his lap and caress your thighs up and down, muttering how beautiful you are, and how much he wants to make love to you, hold you close to his chest, slowly undress you, pinching every inch of your body, commenting how much he loves every party of you and how beautiful you are.

Levi would make sure to kiss your lips and neck a lot, not caring if he leaves hickeys, mostly because he sees you enjoying those kisses so he doesn’t think about anything else, having it as an incentive to keep on going.

Say his name, say how much you love him, say how good he’s making you feel, and oh boy, you will see Valhalla in a way you’ve never dreamt of.

Also, he’s VERY good with his hands…Fingers…Thanks to all the gaming he’s done, and he’s veeeeery patient, and will know every little inch of your body and how it reacts, and you better bet that he’ll take advantage of that, only to hear your cute squeaks or whimpers.

—

Satan

He can either be super gentle, or super rough, depending on how you like it.

He’s a gentleman and he cares a lot about your pleasure, so he won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with or dislike.

As well as that, Satan is afraid he’ll unintentionally hurt you by being too rough, since he’s a demon and compared to humans, he sometimes doesn’t realise the difference in strength, so he’d rather be gentle and know that you’re enjoying it, than seeing crude bruises or scratches.

He enjoys being a top and loves teasing you so much, being a lot into senses-play, so blindfolds, a bit of playful messing around, soft touches, messy kisses, he just wants both of you to have fun, so if you giggle and then moan, godamn, you’re killing his heart.

Satan likes hearing your voice while making love to you, and even more, when he’s in the prelude mode, just enjoying how wet he can get you only with his words, touches and kisses.

Sometimes, however, he can’t resist your charm too much, seeing you so vulnerable and ready to take him, so he doesn’t tease you too much, enough to beg and whimper for him, he will go right at it when he knows you’re ready and will rock your world like never before.

Your innocence is such a turn on, and the thought of somehow tainting you, in a devilish way, makes him want to do filthy things with you, enough for you to never want to let go of him, to never get enough of him, and love only him.

—

Asmodeus

Avatar of Lust? God of Lust? God of Love? God of Pleasure?

Honestly, Asmodeus is everything you would ever wish for in a love partner.

He makes you feel safe and secure, he makes you feel beautiful and love, and will give you enough self-confidence for you to be able to speak out anything you want.

There’s a weird fetish you have? Okay, Asmo’s gonna make sure he integrates it next time you make love.

You want to try out a new kink, but you’re ashamed or scared of it? No worries, Asmo will be gentle, and there is nobody more knowledgeable in this department, so you know everything he says is legit.

You just want to have a tender and passionate love-session with him, where all he does is pamper you and makes you feel loved? Yep, Asmo will be more than happy to ensure that happens.

You want to go rough and get dominated in a filthy way? No shame, Asmo will dirty talk in your ear how much of a slut you are for his dick with no problem or second thought.

He will NEVER judge you for anything you do in bed, and it only stays between the two of you, although he’s never going to shy away from complimenting you outside of your bedroom and saying how lovely you were and all that.

As well as that, Asmo would like to make sure you are pampered before and after your love-session, so he will make you do the whole skin-care routine with him, including a rose-bath with a glass of rose-wine or champagne.

Asmo is always very attentive at your every need, even if he doesn’t seem like that while at it, but it’s thanks to his experience that he doesn’t need to think about anything, and he can still make you scream his name with no real effort.

—

Beelzebub

(( I just got this too hnnnng, but no Alice in Devildom event card from Draw 10, I’m mad, lemme cry ))

He’s a very chill baby, so he won’t really care much about dom or sub, top or bot, basically, he’s a switch and will do whatever you’re comfortable with.

If he’s on top, he’ll be a bit wary because he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way, either from his demon strength, his huge body, or the fact that he constantly works out, so he’s even physically stronger than average.

Beel is very soft and will put your needs above his own, so he would give you so many tender kisses, will ask if you’re okay and feeling good, will touch you a lot, and of course, he will eat you out like there’s no tomorrow, provided you’re okay with it.

He will make sure you cum a few times before he goes further, wanting to be extra sure that you’re okay at all times, that he won’t hurt you, that he won’t be too rough without realising and all that.

Honestly, Beel is such a loving babe, he doesn’t believe in roles and anything of the sort, he lets emotion take over him, and makes sure to pleasure you, and if he sees you like it, he’ll continue with even more passion.

Can go on all night with no problem, but will go for as long as you’re able to, since human stamina isn’t as high as demon stamina.

He just really wants to love you and show you in any way possible that his feelings for you are infinite, so at the end, he will hold you tight to his chest, kissing your forehead and playing with your hair soothingly, staying awake until you fall asleep, just happy that he can look at you and indulge in your beauty and the fact that you really love him as much as he loves you.

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yan-genshin · 3 years

Text

a/n: hello to the fellow twst people who came here from my twst blog welcome to my secondary brainrot

warnings: general yandere themes, non consensual drug use, some spoilers for kaeya’s backstory

♥︎ kaeya alberich

kaeya is obsessive in an almost paranoid way, which is almost surprising seeing how laid back and relaxed he seems to act most of the times. despite his seemingly sociable attitude, kaeya is similar to his brother diluc in that he doesn’t get close to others because he’s scared to lose them (or scared that being associated with him could bring them harm)

maybe that’s why it comes as a shock to the city to hear that the cavalry captain has gotten together with the mysterious honorary knight- everyone knows kaeya flirts and gets around, but nobody’s ever seen him settle down like that

it’s... almost cute, at first. he’s far from touch starved, but emotionally? kaeya seems to seek their attention and warmth almost selfishly, dragging them around on “missions” that are mostly work he’s supposed to be doing alone to eat up their time, interrupting their own tasks and missions just because he wants to see them

“aw, are you mad at me?” he’s got that playful tilt to his voice, the one he always uses when he’s trying to make things go his way or he’s trying to egg someone on. by now, the outlander isn’t sure which effect he’s trying to have on them; this is the third time kaeya swooped in and interrupted their daily commissions for the adventurer’s guild, putting them behind schedule and messing up their plans for the day. the spot in their bag where they would have put away the cecilias they had meant to gather in the evening but didn’t get the chance to just makes them more upset- but kaeya’s sudden embrace makes them drop that train of thought. “now, now, let’s not get angry... i’m really trying my best here to show you i love you- don’t you love me, too?”

kaeya seems to think the ends justify the means- the path to the best ending isn’t necessarily a pretty one, or so he says. he’s well aware of when he starts to use emotional manipulation to pressure his dear traveler into doing as he wants, he’s entirely aware of how he’s monopolizing their time

after all, the easiest way to get them to be as attached to him as he is to them is to break them down and build them back up as he sees fit. it’s cruel, it’s bad, but kaeya is the type of man who relishes in the looks of fear and doubt in other’s faces, and the type of lover who relishes in gently comforting the traveler as they cry when he’s the one who caused their tears in the first place

most of it is just to make them depend on him. oh, don’t get him wrong- kaeya’s well aware that the traveler can fend off for themselves. he’s seen how they fight, how they seem to move with battle experience that should be born from years and years of training despite their youthful appearance. but that strength is also what gives them freedom- and kaeya is not barbatos, and he doesn’t plan on giving them such thing

“can i go to springvale today...?” kaeya almost smirks. who would have thought the powerful hero of mondstadt- the outlander who swept in, who saved the city from dvalin, who once challenged boreas for training- could be reduced to such a meek creature that felt the need to ask for permission to simply wander outside the city’s walls? to outsiders, it might seem like it was just the traveler ‘settling into the relationship’, but he knew better than that. days of subtle manipulation, of using just the right words to drive them to tears, of comforting them while choosing his words oh-so-carefully were the hard work that was showing off now; a hero slowly being reduced to a docile partner

he doesn’t want to be abandoned. kaeya fears loneliness more than anything else, something he keeps hidden deep inside of him- vague memories of being abandoned on a rainy night, of his adoptive father’s passing haunt him, the ever stubborn feeling of being unwanted despite having so many swooning for him- it’s as if every little piece of the travler’s free spirited soul he chips away is a reassurance, a guarantee to him that they’re his and they’re going to stay

there’s no real limit to what he’ll do. he’s always careful enough to keep them right in his palm; even when the relationship has gone far from just a toxic relationship and fallen off into something worse, it’s as if they’re far too deep do climb out. it’s not easy to leave an abusive relationship, and kaeya is always one step ahead in making sure it’s damn near impossible, presenting himself as the only solace for the traveler

it’s almost an art how he’s the one making their life hell and also the one who comforts them and gives them a sanctuarium to “heal” and “feel loved”. whether it’s him destroying their hopes of seeing all archons, claiming it’s simply impossible, or implying that if their sibling truly were alive, word of them would have probably gotten to mondstadt already, kaeya is always careful enough so that his darling’s anger and grief doesn’t fall quite on him, so that he can be the one to gently comfort them and hold them in his arms

“shh, it’s okay darling, you couldn’t have known anything so terrible would happen.” he holds his lover’s shaking body as they cry into his shoulder, hands rubbing soothing circles into their back. despite this, the look in his face isn’t one of a man consoling his lover, but rather a smug smirk. they heave another sob: oh, they have all the rights in the world to be sad. how tragic that the particular knight who’d become their friend had to pass away so brutally- they’d simply asked him if he could gather some lampgrass for them, an innocent request, and he’d ran into a ruin guard. it’s your fault for asking him to go seemed to be the only thought that ran through their head, and kaeya, despite all his comforting, didn’t seem to downright deny it. after all, they didn’t need to know the poor knight happened to ask kaeya where he could find the lampgrass, they didn’t need to know kaeya just so happened to mark a location on his map where it just so happened he knew a ruini guard lurked nearby. kaeya may be a knight, but he’s never been to righteous- it’s not as if he directly spilled someone’s blood just because they got too close to his lover, right? suppressing a chuckle at the thought, he made sure his voice was still in a comforting tone as he spoke, “next time, just ask me for any favours. no need to go and talk to others and have this tragedy repeat, right?”

it’s almost laughable, really, how much kaeya seems to circle around and pull strings just so he can make everything work the way he wants. realistically, it’d be just so much easier to just chain down the traveler, to just downright get rid of paimon instead of constantly bribing her with food or sending her off with amber to the point where the little fae seems to almost forget about the traveler- but kaeya needs to be loved. he doesn’t need the love to be healthy or to be real, it’s ok if it’s born out of manipulation and dependence. but all he does, he needs it to work into driving the traveler into a dark enough headspace wherein he is the only light in their life

... but that said, he’d rather have the traveler be his and lose their love than lose the traveler’s love and also lose them. ideally, they won’t abandon him because they love him (because he’s broken them, because he destroyed the hero of mondstadt and made them into a docile and codependent pet, because he’s destroyed their world and shown himself as the only alternative) but if needed, he’ll make it so they won’t abandon him because they can’t

after all, kaeya loves the sight of fear in their eyes. if they’re so eager to leave him, then perhaps he’ll just continue to indulge in their tears and their begging- this time wholy embracing the fact he’s the one that caused such things. it’s as easy as sleeping potions mixed in their foods to keep them pliable and docile, as easy as a chain keeping them locked to a basement; a treatment so hellish it makes them crave for the toxic hellhole of a relationship he offered before

“aw, are you uncomfortable? it’s too cold down here, isn’t it? poor thing. should i get you a blanket? do you think you deserve a blanket? if you keep acting good, i might get you one tomorrow.” it’s torture, the way he so gently traces their cheek, the way he looks at them with so much warmth in his eyes despite him being the one who’s got them chained up to a fucking basement. their brain screams at them to jerk away, to not give him the satisfaction of accepting his touch, but they’re cold, and despite being a cryo user, kaeya’s touch is so warm that they almost unconsciously lean into it. he laughs, the noise echoing in the almost empty basement; all that’s down here is a ratty old cot, a makeshift bathroom, and the heavy metal chain attaching them to one of the thick wooden support beams on the wall. cold nights like these almost make them miss being back in kaeya’s room, huddled in with him after he’s fallen asleep- probably after offering some comfort after driving them to a breakdown some hours earlier. but that’s long gone, now replaced with kaeya’s almost sadistic glee in keeping them down here, in seeing how the already broken traveler just shatters into a shell of their former self, how even now when he’s being outwardly antagonistic they’re starting to still try to find comfort in him: truly turned into a weak, docile, dependent little thing.

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #kaeya alberich #yandere tw #drug ment

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callmeelle22 · 3 years

Text

Blue Dream VIII

Pairing: Iris West x Barry Alen

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 9, 182

Summary: A series of sporadic dates between Iris and Barry turn into something more, a story in its own making.

Chapter I: Primetime

Chapter II: It's Cool

Chapter III: Anything

Chapter IV: Comfortable

Chapter V: The Way

Chapter VI: Say Yes

Chapter VII: Brave

Chapter VIII: Blue Dream; Her eyes close and she lets herself lie in the feeling: opens a space for him to stay as he slides his tongue against hers; lets the feel of his mouth on her pull her from the dream she swears she’s been living since she first laid eyes on him; stencils the same story back onto him, plotting out a scene that only ends after forever comes and goes. She lets the kiss say what she can’t yet, reminds herself that he’s talking with it too, that he’s telling her what she’d seen in his eyes yesterday, and in his touch the week before, and in the curve of his smiles weeks before that. (Read below or on AO3 linked on the chapter title.)

Chapter IX: He Loves Me

We were coastin' on the coast when you opened my eyes

Made me notice where the ocean was holding the sky, right

I was blinded, your smile shining behind those green eyes

The horizon so enticing, please, say you'll be mine

The second Friday in the month of November finds Iris at home as she usually is, tucked into her living room sofa, a large glass of wine on the coffee table in front of her, right next to a loaded pipe.

This week in particular has been grueling, though in the best way. Her classes are going swimmingly, so much so that she might be able to skip the final in her multimedia journalism course; but that means she has to stay on top of every single assignment, making sure everything she turns in is up to par. Not only that, Her segment on Good Morning, Central City is in less than a week, and with the television promotions for it, there has been an increase in traffic on her blog, an increase in comments on her posts, an increase in stories in her inbox waiting to be told. It’s mind-boggling, and Iris finds herself so giddy, she doesn’t always know what to do with it.

Some of it she channels into Barry. Since opening up to one another after Barry’s visit to his dad, everything about them has been more: more exciting, more passionate, more intimate. Iris can honestly say that she’s never been fucked as well as Barry fucks her, and she can’t decide if that’s just because apparently nothing turns her on more than Barry sliding thick and slow into her and muttering, ‘yes, take all of me, baby; good, good girl,’ or if she feels the way she feels because it’s him, because he is a dream of a man, some fantasy she must have conjured up in a daydream she doesn’t remember having. She finds herself always wanting him: the heavy fullness of him, and the way he smiles at her every time he sees her after they’ve been separated for even minutes; the whispered words of ardor, and how his eyes always track her movements, watching and observing and cataloging; the feel of him lean and long and hard on top of her, and the attention with which he listens to her, validates her.

And when she thinks she needs even a moment from that, there is her Friday night ritual. She’s already showered and dressed in a silk nightgown, this one in a deep purple color with thin straps and an open back. She takes a sip of her wine as she scrolls through her phone looking for a song; she chooses one, don’t wake me up ‘cause i’m in love with all that you are, and then she settles into the sofa corner, pipe in hand. Lighting up, she inhales, and releases.

She is full and high when her phone rings sometime around midnight.

Movements slow, she grabs her phone from where she’d tossed it on the table next to the half-empty carton of pad thai. Barry’s name flashes on the screen over the picture taken of them at Wally’s birthday party. Her smile is easy and so is the absurd little flutter in her belly.

(But high Iris will concede that, while she figures she should be past this stage now, this jittery, nervous stage, she’s not at all ashamed that it is still how she feels, because there is something so delightful about being with someone who gives you butterflies, even as time keeps passing).

Her stomach dips as she brings the phone to her ear. “Hello.”

“Hey, baby.” The sound of his voice, a little bit deeper than normal, a little bit slower than normal, makes her stomach tighten even more.

“Hi, Bear.”

It’s then that she notices the sound in the background, music and loud voices. She thinks she hears someone saying, “Barry, are you talking to your girlfriend?” but then Barry hushes them and comes back onto the line.

“What are you doing, beautiful?”

“What I’m always doing on Friday nights.”

“Getting high in those sexy pajamas you like wearing?”

Iris laughs softly, noting the effect of his voice on her, how even over the phone and even when he’s apparently surrounded by people, it travels, quiet and steady, over her skin.

“Are you drunk, Barry?”

“A little bit,” he says, “mostly tired though.”

Iris shifts on the sofa, snuggling deeper into the couch. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know. At some bar with Cisco and Chester. We were only supposed to grab food and a couple beers but then they had some sort of two for one special happening, and Chester and Cisco are degenerates, so here we are.”

Iris shakes her head at that, and there’s a short pause before Barry speaks again.

“I miss you.”

“You saw me yesterday.” The part of Iris that wants to appear less affected by him is glad that he can’t see the grin that lights her eyes as her cheeks warm, as she bites her bottom lip. “And we talked this morning.”

“Hmmm,” Barry hums. “Tell me you miss me.”

“What if I don’t?” Her taunt is quiet, like the whisper of her hands on her own body, trailing along her thighs at the hem of her nightgown.

There’s another pause and the sound behind lowers a little, becomes duller. Her own music comes to her attention again, you make me see the truth in things, i think that you are, the remedy for everything, it seems that you are, the truth itself ‘cause nothing else can take me so far, and it makes her shiver from the truth of it.

“I wouldn’t believe it,” Barry tells her, finally. “Yeah, I saw you yesterday, but I had you shaking on top of me.”

“Faking it,” she quips back and Barry lets out a small bark of laughter.

“Tell me you miss me, Iris.”

She licks her lips slowly, thinking of last night when she had seen him, the encounter he’s talking about, when he’d had her climb into his lap after dinner at her small little dining table and fucked her right there.

“Tell me, baby.”

“Yeah, I miss you, you cocky jackass.”

His answering chuckle was a low thing, deep and dirty. “Now tell me what your pajamas look like tonight?

“Barry, are you asking me this around your friends?”

“No. I'm standing outside of the bathrooms now. Boys' night shifted when they saw a couple of pretty women and I got tired of fifth-wheeling. And I couldn't stop thinking about you.”

She can picture him, standing in the corner and leaning against a wall, a hand in his pocket as he clutches the phone to his ear; his cheeks are probably rosy with his indulgence and his lips pink from licking at them, his hair messy from touching it.

His voice dips again. “Now tell me.”

Iris can admit to herself that she likes when Barry gets a little stern with her, when his voice deepens and he sounds so sure of what he wants, what he needs from her. It makes goosebumps crawl along her skin, and it does so doubly now, her senses already loose, dipping into the warm, heady place that intoxication takes her.

“It’s a nightgown,” she explains. “Purple. Silk. Stops at the middle of my thighs. Has a low back.”

His groan is loud and clear. “You had to come from one of my dreams. There’s no way you’re real.”

The statement sobers Iris, if only a little, but enough that the smooth and easy flow of her breathing stutters, much like the beat of her heart, stilling until she thinks she’s gonna lose breath, and then hammering back.

“I could say the same for you.”

The responding silence is piercing, expansive, a space where words left still unsaid are scattered along the floor, merely waiting for one of them to pick it up and say it.

“Iris,” he starts, and then he pauses again. “Can I come over? I know it’s your self-care night, and you can tell me no, but I need to… I really just want to see you.”

She doesn’t even think about it. “Yeah, Barry. You can come over.”

Twenty minutes later, she peels herself off of the sofa to open the door for him. He’s standing on the other side, in dark blue chinos and a baby blue and white checkered shirt, his favorite tan desert boots on his feet. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and he’s leaning against the door frame when she pulls it open. His hair is a mess and his jaw is covered in stubble, but other than the faint red tinge in his cheeks, there is nothing that tells her he isn’t as lucid as talking to her had made him seem.

She smiles up at him, aware that her own eyes are probably low and red, but he smiles back, just as softly. He doesn’t come in right away, instead reaching out to pull her to him, one big hand holding the back of her neck. He looks down at her, eyes traveling down the length of her body.

“Hey my good girl,” he greets at last, and before she can respond, he leans down and kisses her. The kiss is chaste at first, one peck and another. Then he pulls back, only enough to scoop her up, gripping her by her waist and settling her in front of him, her legs wrapping easily around his hips. She yelps at the action, but then he’s kissing her again, and they’re moving into the apartment, Iris noting the faint slam of her door behind them.

He carries her to the couch and drops down in the center of it, keeping her atop him, keeping his mouth on hers. The kiss is slow, so slow, the sort of kiss that has no purpose, not one other than allowing them the space to be together. He holds on to her by her hip, free hand trailing up and down the length of her exposed spine, but he doesn’t make any move anywhere else. He seems content to just kiss her, this deep, open-mouthed kiss.

It’s like he’s trying to get inside of her, to climb in and settle down, to take up space with his searing, insidious presence.

It’s as if he’s trying to tell himself that this isn’t a dream, that it’s really her, it’s really them, moaning into each other, holding onto each other, breathing each other in.

It’s as though he’s trying to cement their story, to write it clear into her skin so that she can’t deny it’s veracity, like he’s promising that the only thing she’ll get on the other side of her climax is this, a gentle, effortless sort of fall.

Her eyes close and she lets herself lie in the feeling: opens a space for him to stay as he slides his tongue against hers; lets the feel of his mouth on her pull her from the dream she swears she’s been living since she first laid eyes on him; stencils the same story back onto him, plotting out a scene that only ends after forever comes and goes. She lets the kiss say what she can’t yet, reminds herself that he’s talking with it too, that he’s telling her what she’d seen in his eyes yesterday, and in his touch the week before, and in the curve of his smiles weeks before that.

When he pulls back, Iris cannot say how much time has passed. She only knows that her body has molded to the shape of him, that her heart has found the rhythm of his, that she’s there with him, my afternoon dream when the world is speedin’, i am still sleepin’, in my blue dream.

“What was that about?” she asks him. She stares back at him, and the way he looks at her is more intoxicating than the wine he’d just tasted on her tongue, more so than the weed that so effortlessly floods her bloodstream.

“Told you I missed you,” he replies, voice husky with exhaustion, and likely the arousal she doesn’t think ever really disappears.

She nods, a little dazed. They sit together for a while longer; Iris tucks her head into Barry’s neck and he keeps rubbing his warm hands along her spine. The atmosphere is delicate, peaceful. She takes him in, inhaling the citrusy scent of him, savoring the feel of him so close to her, surrounding her. They stay that way until Iris feels her own exhaustion tugging at her. She climbs off of him and, after turning off her music, she pulls him through her bedroom and into her bathroom. They brush their teeth, Barry with the toothbrush that he’d bought to keep at hers, and Iris reties the silk scarf she’s wearing on her head.

Inside her room, Barry strips down to his boxers, laying his clothes neatly on the arm of the chair by her window. They get into bed, Barry spooning her, his arm holding her tight against him. She settles in, fitting herself snuggly against him, and he kisses her temple before resuming his stroking, this time on her belly through her nightgown. It doesn’t take long for her to drift off, her breathing deepening before evening out. And just before she goes under, she hears it, Barry muttering, “I love you, Iris,” into her hair, so low that she’s sure she’s only just dreaming it.

When Iris wakes up, the first thing that happens is she hears it again, hears him, Barry’s night-rough voice whispering “I love you, Iris.” It runs in her head on a loop, an anaphora to every other thought, every question she’s having: i love you, iris, did he think she was asleep? i love you, iris, did he mean it? i love you, iris, does he want her to say it back? i love you, iris, i love you, iris, i love you, iris.

Over the past few weeks, Iris has become more comfortable with the idea of it, with the reality that what she feels for Barry is real and big and grand. It still takes her aback, how quickly she’d, they’d, fallen into it. As naturally wary as Iris is, she can’t discount what she’d felt last night when he’d kissed her, when he started into her, like she was the sun and the stars and every other bright light in the galaxy all at once; with awe and reverence and yearning; like he wanted to be consumed by her, and he didn’t care how close he got to that fiery, burning light, as long as she was standing there waiting for him.

And it’s enchanting to be looked at like that. Iris has been trying to get it out on paper, that feeling, trying to make sense of the contradictions: the fear that comes with caring about someone enough that they could break you; the power that follows knowing it’s the same for him too; the overall potency that comes with falling in love.

Still, the thought of saying it aloud, right now—when she’s still working on writing it all out, still trying to explain it to herself first—makes her seize up, her eyes darting wildly, her limbs frozen in anxiety.

Barry begins to shift behind her, loosening his arm from around her, and she takes the opportunity to slide out of the bed. She pads across her carpeted bedroom floor into the bathroom where her feet meet cold tiles. She uses the bathroom, washes her hands and brushes her teeth, and throws water on her face. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, chocolate brown eyes bright in her face, her skin clear, her mouth turned down in consternation.

She goes back out into her room. Barry is fully away now, lying on his back, both of his hands cradling the back of his head. Her comforter is pooled at his hips. She takes in his bare chest, the way his biceps bulge in this position, how clear his eyes look in the sun, even as his lids are low with sleep. Those candy eyes catch her as she walks over to him, staying on her as she kneels on the bed and crawls over him, settling herself on top of him. He’s half hard under her and he lets out a soft little grunt when she sits her butt right on his crotch.

“You sleep okay?” she asks him as he reaches up and traces at his iris tattoo. She loves it, the violet ink that has sunk into his skin, the hints of blue and orange giving it depth, the fact that it’s an iris, placed big and pretty over his heart.

“Are you alright?” he asks instead of answering her question. His voice is still sleep-rough and scratchy. The sound of it sends a soft little tremble through her.

She smiles, the gesture real but uncertain. Well, maybe not uncertain, but she’s aware that she’s in her head again, trying to parse through her feelings. Or, rather, trying to figure out which of her feelings is taking precedence, which one she thinks that she should address first.

“Yes, I’m okay.”

Barry hums as he drags a hand from behind his head, placing it at her hip. “You know it’s okay not to be, right? Okay, I mean. And you can talk to me about it, whatever it is.”

He gives her hip a squeeze.

“No, I am okay. I’m good, really. I just…” she licks her lips as she hesitates, unsure if she’s even ready to bring it up, unsure if she even should. But she knows that she’ll think about it all day, will hear it in her head all day, will wonder and question and drive herself sick with the thoughts of it. So she bites the bullet, lets out a long exhale, and takes him at his word that she can talk about it.

“I heard what you said. Before we fell asleep last night.”

His expression doesn’t change, but his entire body stiffens, his hands stilling on her hip. He doesn’t break, though, and continues to watch her face in that way that he does. For a moment, Iris wonders if he even remembers what he said, if the words were just some half-drunk confession he hadn’t actually meant to say,

(and the flicker of disappointment that follows is tangible, an almost visceral response that tells her much more than anything else could have).

“Okay,” he says after a moment, tilting his head. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She wishes she was as good at reading him as he is at reading her. She’s supposed to be able to make the observations, to understand the truth behind what people don’t say. Sometimes she thinks that she can, thinks that when she really looks at him, she can see what’s simmering in those eyes, can understand his intentions in the grip of his hands, and the curve of his spine, and the shape of his mouth. But it doesn’t feel constant, not like he is with her, and that fact is doubly true right now. Because she can’t tell anything about what he’s thinking, his only tell being the way his hand is still on her hip, tighter than it was before, holding her to him.

“I don’t know,” she tells him, truthfully. “Did you mean it?”

For the first time, he averts his eyes, gazing over at the window. There’s nothing to see; the blinds are closed and the curtains are drawn, but he focuses there for several long seconds, brows furrowed and lips pursed. She blinks, and then she’s suffused with something foreign, something cold and bitter.

“You didn’t,” she says, and it isn’t a question. “Okay, that’s, that’s…”

She moves to climb off of him, but he’s quick, bringing her back by sitting up and wrapping both of his arms around her.

“Where are you going? I’m not done.”

Her eyes flash. “Well you haven’t said anything and I don’t need to sit here like this and listen to you tell me that you didn’t mean to say you love me.”

“What are you upset about, Iris?”

“I’m not upset, Barry,” she says, her frustration evident. She tries to move again, but he holds on to her. “It’s fine. Of course you didn’t mean it. It’s only been a few months. We’re just…”

“We’re just what, Iris?”

He’s looking at her again, with those pretty, too-knowing eyes, and she feels a little like she can’t breathe. Because he didn’t mean it. And the thought that she’d managed to get this all so wrong is, is horrifying.

“I don’t know,” she mumbles, and even though she didn’t actually believe it to be true, she continues, “sex, I guess. Apparently.”

She shifts again, but he tightens his grips even more and she can’t understand it, why he’s still surrounding her like this, the look of him and the smell of him and the feel of him so potent.

“Is that really what you think?” he asks, and he doesn't sound angry so much as annoyed. “That I’m just here for sex. When it’s you that initiated all of our first encounters, when…”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, fuck you, Barry. Like all that slick talking isn’t initiating. You’ve got some fucking nerve.”

This time, when she tries to yank away from him, he lets her; and with a grace she doesn’t feel, she climbs off the bed. She strides towards the living room, but she doesn’t get far because Barry grabs her by the arm and presses her body against the wall near the door.

“Let me go, Barry,” she says, heart hammering angrily against her rib cage. He releases her arm immediately, but he cages her in, planting his hands on the walls on either side of her.

“Look at me, Iris,” he commands, his voice a raspy whisper. She blinks over his shoulder, taking in the messy blue comforter on her queen bed in the middle of the room, and the pale cream curtains on the windows to the right that don’t hide much light, and the blue and cream striped lounge chair where Barry’s clothes are.

“Baby, please,” he tries again, and it’s the pleading that makes her turn.

He looks a little like he sounds, frazzled and out of sorts, his eyes darting quickly across her face and the shadow at his jaw far past 5 o’clock.

“I meant it.” The words come out softly, a little strained, and he blinks once, twice, before repeating. “I meant it. I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“No,” Iris shakes her head. “You’re just saying that now. You didn’t mean it.”

Barry lets out a heavy sigh as he steps back from her. She doesn’t move, though, she can’t. Instead, she watches him, her body lost in the turmoil of the past few minutes. He walks towards the bed, then steps away again, stepping in a circle before coming back to her. This time, when he looks at her, she sees it, him, his feelings.

“You looked terrified this morning, Iris,” he explains, “thinking about what I said. I think that I can read you, that I can see into what you aren’t saying to me. I see the way that you look at me, the way that we are together, and I can swear that you also…”

“What if that’s just sexual chemistry?” she interrupts, because she’s still spiraling, her body still so heavy with the range of emotions she’s experienced in the span of just minutes. And what if he really didn’t mean it, what if she’d actually started writing this story wrong, what if this has all been some dream she’s just starting to wake up from.

Barry stops pacing to look at her, incredulous, and then he narrows his eyes at her.

“Is that really what you think, Iris?” He steps, no stalks, towards her, steps slow and measured. He looks up and down the length of her, eyes lingering at the spread of her hips, the dip of her cleavage, before settling on her face. “You really think that the way we are together is, is just sex?”

She opens her mouth but doesn’t answer, and he closes the distance between them. He stands so close that she has to throw her head back against the wall in order to see up at him.

(She tries but can’t find it in herself to be ashamed of what this does to her, even as she’s not happy with him, having his attention on her like this, having his hard length pressed against her like this, the look of him and the smell of him and the feel of him like this.)

“I know that no one else fucks you like I do, Iris.”

That makes her snap and he pushes at him and he stumbles back near the bed. “You’re a smug fucking bastard, Barry Allen.”

She moves to grab her phone off the counter, intending to, she doesn’t know, throw it at his head. But then she’s plucked off her feet. She squeals as he tosses her onto her back and straddles her hips, holding her by her arms above her head. She bares her teeth at him, but doesn’t try to get away from him this time. She’s breathing heavily, and he is too, and for a second, Iris thinks that this love stuff is too much. Because that’s what’s going on here, isn’t it? It’s their first fight and it’s about love, about the fact that they’d slipped into it so simply that they (and by they, she means she) is finding it difficult to just let it be.

“I don’t mean it in an arrogant way, Iris,” he murmurs. “I just… you are a fucking goddess, baby, and if you’d ever been with anyone the way you are with me, there’s no way they would have ever let you go.”

He presses down on her arms a little, presses his hips into hers a little. “And no one has ever made me feel like this, the way that you do, in bed and out of it. And you don’t have to say it back. Not until you’re ready. I meant what I said but I didn’t think you would hear me. I just needed to say it.”

His eyes roam her face and she stares back. Her breathing has begun to level out, but she’s still left with, with adrenaline or something, a heavy, aching sort of feeling flooding through her, making her warm and jittery and, and wet. Which, she’s never been turned on by arguing before, but, by god, she is. She is. Turned on and in love and so gone on the man above her that she doesn’t think of anything at all before she leans up and kisses him.

For the first time since they’ve started doing this, Barry doesn’t take his time. He kisses her back, just as hard, the kiss more teeth and tongue than mouth. He keeps a hold of her arms in one of his big hands and then reaches down to push her dress up over her hips, lifting his own hips just enough that he can pull himself out of his boxers and spread her legs, hiking them over his waist. He doesn’t bother with taking her panties off; he just yanks them over to the side, probably ripping the delicate lace, and then runs a couple of his sure fingers through her slit to see if she’s wet enough to take him. Satisfied, he grips himself and then slides into her.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he groans, dragging the word out, and Iris seconds that, throwing her head back at the heavy, hard, full feeling of him. He gives her one experimental thrust, and then another, and then he’s setting a pace, fucking into her in hard, shallow strokes. He clenches hard around her, her head filled with the press of his body and the smell of his skin and the thought of his love, i know the meaning’, for all the seasons, you are the reason, my love. Then Barry leans down on her, so that his chest brushes her nipples and his pelvis rubs against her clit every time he rocks into her, and her head clears of everything but this.

“God,” she moans, eyes fluttering closed.

He moves his mouth to her ear as he picks up his pace, murmuring as he always does, “fuck, baby, yes, you feel so good, girl; my good girl, shit” but his words aren’t as smooth as they usually are. He is frayed, his breathing choppy and his pace brutal. She likes it though. Her pussy grows wetter with every thrust, her hips rocking up to meet him, and she breathes out through her nose when she finds her mouth stuck in a round “o.” They’re both slick from the exertion and Iris can’t tell if it’s his sweat or hers or theirs. He holds on to the meat of her thigh, widening her so that he can ride her deeper, harder. She drips, down onto her thighs, soaking him too, and she knows that were she to look down, his dick would be so obscenely slick with her. He kisses at her ear, down to her neck, along her jaw, biting and licking and sucking on her skin. His grip on her is hard, and it isn’t so much rough as it is raw, inelegant and sensual and crude and so so so so good.

The thought of it is just as arousing as the act of it, and Iris manages to breathe out, “shit, Bear, how, how, how are you always so gooood?”

He flashes her a grin, her Barry coming back to her, and he says into her ear, “because it’s us, baby. Because I love you and you’re falling for me and we were meant for this.”

When Iris comes, it’s so hard she swears she goes blind for a minute. The world darkens and all she can do is feel: passion and euphoria and ecstasy and every other expression like it.

She’s thirty minutes late meeting Linda for their monthly brunch..

She and Barry shower together, and she drops him off at his car downtown and then she drives the couple blocks over to Golden’s. Before he gets out, he leans over and kisses her, a long slow sort of kiss, licking deep into her mouth as he cradles her face gently in the palm of his hand, and then he taps the top of her car twice before ambling over to his jeep without saying a word.

She feels a little funny after all of that, wondering why she still hadn't been able to say the words to him. He hadn’t said much to her as they’d dressed and gotten ready to leave her apartment. But he hadn’t stopped touching her either: taking her loofah from her and washing her down in the shower, running his hand over her hip after she’d hopped into a pair of light denim boyfriend jeans, rubbing on her thigh as she’d driven them downtown. She doesn’t think he’s upset with her; he’d told her she didn’t have to say it back. But he’d retreated, at least verbally, and it’s fucking with her, making her realize how much her fear is keeping her from him.

Golden’s is already open by the time she gets there so she walks in through the front door, throwing a hand up at Kamilla as she heads to the back in her stiletto heeled ankle booties, tugging lightly at the long, faux pearl necklace lying over her white half tucked in sweater. It’s packed as usual, the Saturday lunch crowd filling most of the seats, and she has to walk around chairs half pushed in and groups of people laughing and enjoying their Saturday.

She slides into the booth across from her best friend, the table already littered with food, Linda’s mango mimosa mostly gone. The other woman looks up at her, perusing, her brown eyes curious. Iris ignores her to grab her champagne flute, dropping a frozen mango slice into the glass and pouring a smidge of juice in, topping it off with champagne. She downs half of it in one gulp.

“You’ve been fucked,” is the first thing Linda says, when she finally decides to speak.

Iris chokes on her swallow of mimosa.

“Freshly,” Linda adds. Her red painted lips curve up in a devious little grin. “Is that big ass hickey you’re sporting the reason you’re late?”

She rolls her eyes, but touches gently at where she knows it’s sitting, an uneven patch of darkened flesh about the size of a quarter on her neck just under her left ear. She’d been in too much of a daze while she was putting on her minimal makeup earlier, the moisturizer and a little concealer, a bit of bronzer on her lids, liner and mascara. She hadn’t noticed the hickey, not until she was putting on her lipstick in the car and she didn’t have any foundation to cover it with.

“I’m too old to have a hickey,” she says to Linda instead of responding to her question.

“Tell your boo that,” Linda responds.

Iris wrinkles her nose at “boo” and starts spooning some sticky sesame chicken onto her plate. She forks a dumpling and bites at it as she goes for the lo mein and she doesn’t realize she’s reaching for the edamame until Linda stills her hand.

“Okay, what’s up?”

Iris chews the rest of her dumpling. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re eating.”

“Is that not why we’re here?”

“No, I mean you’re eating, doing that thing where you just throw food into your mouth without stopping or even really tasting it. You only do it when you’re really anxious and there’s no notebook or wine handy.”

Iris stills with a piece of shrimp in her hand. She drops it back onto the platter and sits back into the booth, chewing and swallowing while Linda waits patiently, sipping from her glass.

And then she blurts, “I’m in love with Barry.”

Linda nods, not yet committing to a response. “Okay.”

“And he told me he’s in love with me and I didn’t say it back.” Iris lets out a breath, tension releasing like a pressure valve has been turned.

“Why didn’t you say it back?”

“Because I’m a coward,” she answers.

Linda’s head shake is automatic, her brown waves brushing at her neck. “There’s not a hint of coward in you, baby girl.” Iris takes her best friend’s white silk blouse just as she says, “Now why don’t you really tell me what’s up.”

To give herself some time to put it all together, she finishes her mimosa and mixes another, though this one with less champagne, and she eats another dumpling, chewing slowly. Then she clears her throat.

“For a while now, I’ve been feeling, I don't know, lost. I was single, school was boring. Work was too, and it seemed like all of you were moving forward while I was just watching. Nothing felt exciting, not even my blog really. And then Barry came along, and I swear, the moment I saw him, it’s like my entire world lit up. There was this, this spark, and even when I was claiming that he was just around for sex, there was always this feeling that it was bigger than all of that, bigger than anything I’ve felt before.

And suddenly, I feel so different. I feel good, Linda. Everything is starting to feel good. My blog is getting real recognition now and Dr. Jamison must also be getting good sex because she’s been an actual joy to be around. And Barry...and Barry is…”

“Putting you to sleep every night?”

It makes her laugh, the way Linda wiggles her eyebrows as she says it, the way her eyes light up with mirth, the way her smile is a soft thing.

“Yeah, he is,” Iris says, her mouth twisting wryly. “But what if it’s a fluke, Linda? This man is everything I’ve wanted in a man and so much more than I even knew I wanted. What if we do this and I learn that he’s been, just, fucking with me this whole time?”

“You know that’s not true, Iris.” Linda picks up her own glass and drains it.

“But how can I trust this?” she pushes. “This happiness that seems to have only come when Barry stepped into my life?”

Linda reaches over and grabs Iris’s hand, and Iris clasps it like a lifeline, her pale orange tipped fingers pressing hard into Linda’s hand and Linda’s own pink tipped fingers pressing back. “There are no guarantees. So maybe we do find out that Barry has been faking this entire time. But what if he’s not? What if he’s as kind and loving as you say he is? ” She lets that digest for a moment.

“Love, and life, is a series of ups and downs, of good experiences and bad, Iris. The timing of it all is just coincidence. And I hear you. It feels so scary to realize that someone has that sort of power over you; that the care of your heart is in their hands. But what I’m learning with Dan is that love, love is always worth it. Because what you’re feeling, it doesn’t go away just because you don’t say it back, just because you don’t acknowledge it. And when you don’t you risk cutting it, him, off, and you’ll get hurt anyway. And that, my love, will be your own fault.”

Iris thinks about Linda’s words as they finish brunch, moving the conversation to Linda’s upcoming trip to meet Dan’s family. She thinks about it as she gets into her car and drives back home, forgoing working on a story in favor of plopping down on the couch and letting music play, my mind is open, so wide since you came inside, i feel so alive, without you life just passes by, passes by, lost in the reality of what she’s feeling.

She thinks about the words as she goes out to grab dinner, picking up a salad for herself and a chicken sandwich and fries for Barry, the intention to take him food not one fully realized until she’s parking in front of the precinct that Barry works out of.

She thinks about the words because Linda is right.

(She would never tell the other woman this, but she is right more often than she’s not, her poise and curious nature making her one to offer sound advice, always realistic and with love.)

She loves him, she does: his wit and his hands and his eyes; his compliments and his patience and ability to make her feel as if everything he’s ever wanted is present in the curves of her body; as if it is his profound pleasure to coax it out of her, with every touch, every moan, every dirty, mumbled thing.

Buoyed by the fact that she’d said it aloud, at the very least, and she didn’t wither away after she had, she grabs the food bags and her purse and walks up the steps to the precinct.

Her dad is working tonight but since she’ll see him tomorrow at dinner, she doesn’t drop by his office. Instead, she heads downstairs to where CSI is located, following the stairs to where they’ve apparently put them in the basement. The hallway is well lit, and there are several windows covered in closed blinds that lead to the lab door. She balances the bags in one hand and opens the door with the other. And she’s stopped short at what she sees.

The room looks like how she’s always imagined a crime lab to look like: lots of white, microscopes, and computers, shelves full of test tubes and petri dishes. Barry is there and so is the Cisco guy she remembers from Fall Fest. There’s a woman there too, in the utilitarian black pants and matching blazer that Iris knows is the norm for detectives. And it’s not that she’s there, because that’s not weird. But she’s there, next to Barry, close to Barry, leaning on his counter with her hand on his arm as she talks. She’s as tall as Iris is in the four inch booties Iris is wearing, with shoulder length dirty blonde hair and the sort of white girl next door look that men fall all over themselves for.

Cisco notices her first, as the door closes softly behind her, and Iris feels a bit mollified at the way his grin rises up when he sees her.

“Iris,” he calls, eyes twinkling. “Nice to see your beautiful face.”

Iris winks at him, pulling out a flirtatious grin so that she doesn’t scowl at the sight of the woman touching Barry.

(She’s not jealous. She’s not, but Iris can’t stand the thought of Barry looking at someone else the way that he does her, can’t stand the thought of him touching someone else the way he does her, can’t stand the thought of him whispering, yeah, baby, fuck, ride me just like that, to someone else the way he does her.)

Cisco, though, is loud enough that Barry hears him, and she watches as he straightens at the sight of her, eyes wide. “Iris!”

He gives her his look, the one where he rakes his eyes over the length of her and then lingers on her face, always trying to read her. She’s still a little frustrated at how she’s always such an open book for him, apparent after he’s finished his perusal and he smiles, slow and with more smirk than anything else. The woman next to him only moves her hand from Barry hesitantly, turning to see what all of this commotion is about. She gives Iris the same once over that Barry did, though decidedly colder, and Iris tilts her head at her before settling her gaze on Barry.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Iris says. “I know that you’re busy, but I thought I’d drop off dinner for you.”

She steps further into the room, and her heels clack loudly in the too quiet space. She pauses in front of where Cisco is sitting. She turns to him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring you anything. I should’ve texted Barry to see who else was around, but I was picking up dinner and just decided to get him some too.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “You can get me next time.”

Iris passes him and lets her eyes wander back to Barry and the detective, who’s stepped back in a bit. As soon as Iris catches his eyes again, Barry steps away from her, moving around to meet Iris. She stops at a point along a wide expanse of empty space on one of the tables, and Iris feels it’s a safe enough spot to place the food without contaminating anything. As soon as she drops the food on the table, Barry cups the back of her head and stares down at her. His thumb traces the mark he’d left on her neck.

“Hi, beautiful,” he says, eyes wondering, smile tender.

She looks over his shoulder to where the woman still stands, looking at her too. She gives her a smile in greeting. Iris thinks it’s returned.

“I’m sorry. You look busy,” she responds. “Should I go?”

“Absolutely not. I’m just surprised to see you.” Without stepping away from her, he turns to address the detective. “Patty, I’ll come down as soon as I have the results for you.”

Her gaze trails over to Iris once more, observing where Barry holds onto Iris’s neck, onto her waist. “Of course,” she murmurs, finally.

She walks out of the room, her low-heeled boots nearly silent on the floors. Both Iris and Cisco watch her go, but Barry doesn’t pay much attention, his focus on Iris as he continues to rub along his mark.

Cisco stands, sort of abruptly, his chair skitting across the floor. “Barry, I’m gonna step out for a minute.” He shrugs out of his lab coat, tossing it on the back of his chair. His thick brown hair brushes against his shoulders with every shake of his head. “It’s good seeing you again, pretty lady.”

Iris offers him another smile. “You too, Cisco.”

She turns back to Barry who’s eyeing her, expression curious. “You’re here,” he says, voice low.

“Yeah,” she nods at the bags she’s placed on the table. “I don’t know, I went to get dinner and I was, well, I was thinking about you.” She shrugs with a nonchalance she doesn’t feel.

“Yeah?” Barry’s answering grin is wide, and a little bit boyish, cheeks reddening; it makes Iris smile back in turn.

“Come on,” Barry says, picking up the bags and walking over to a desk tucked into the corner. “I've got a few minutes.”

The desk is messy, stacks of folders and sticky notes all over the place, and he moves some papers around so that he can place their food down. He rolls his desk chair over for her to sit in and he grabs the bag, pulling out her salad container and his sandwich and fries and placing them in front of their spots.

She waits until he sits down in the hard back chair he’d gotten from under one of the computers and she snaps the top of her salad before she says, “so why wasn’t I introduced to the detective?”

Barry takes a bite of his sandwich and looks at her in question. “Who? Detective Spivot?”

“Don’t you mean, Patty?”

Barry pauses with a fry poised for his mouth. “Sure,” he says. “Patty is one of the detectives on the case we got called into.”

“Hmm.” Iris stabs at her salad. She takes a bite and chews, though she doesn’t really taste it.

Barry places his half eaten sandwich into the cardboard container and he turns to her, giving her his full attention. He inclines his head, watches for a second. She thinks that the corner of his mouth tilts up, that humor brims in his eyes.

“What do you want to say, Iris?”

She rolls her eyes, annoyed that she can’t focus on how cute he looks with his lab coat and glasses on, annoyed that that woman was touching him, annoyed that she’s annoyed.

“I didn’t know you were so close to the detective. Y’all were very...touchy.”

Shaking her head, she starts to go back to her salad, but then he drops his food and rubs his hands together. He leans towards her.

“Come here,” he says.

She ducks away, but he grabs her wrist gently and pulls at her. She goes, because her tripping heart and her heaving chest and her warming sex won’t allow her to not. Barry sits her in his lap, sideways so that her legs are half hanging over his. She’s a head taller than him in this position, and he presses a hand at the small of her back as he looks up at her.

“You’re jealous,” he announces, seemingly pleased with the fact.

Iris rolls her eyes. “Of course not.”

Barry laughs. “So you’re just really grumpy right now?”

“I’m just curious,” she says.

“Oh?”

“About the touching.”

“She’d literally just put her hand on me as you walked in the door. I was about to move it.”

Iris harrumphs. “Doesn’t Detective Spivot know that you’re…” Iris waves her hand as she trails off and it makes Barry’s slight grin widen.

“That I’m what?”

Even she knows that the huff she lets out would only be completed with a foot stop.

“That you’re taken,” she says, boldly. Because whatever she was feeling, whatever he was feeling, this morning, they are still them: two people who’ve crawled into open, waiting hearts and made space for one another; two people who are pages deep into a story that the stars must have already been writing; two people hours into a dream that is so vivid, it has to be real.

The statement seems to sober him, because his eyebrows furrow. “Am I?”

She wants to be bothered by the genuine question in his eyes. But they’ve never blatantly talked about them. There has been some conjecture, sex-fueled mutterings that hinted at the reality of them, of their feelings. There have been looks between the two of them that tell far more than Iris has ever even realized could be portrayed through eye contact. He’s told her that he loves her. But they’ve never defined or drawn out the lines or made it real.

But like she said, they are them. And he is. Taken. So she slowly licks her lips, and nods her head. “Yeah, you are.”

This time, Barry’s smile is a sexy, lilting thing. “I’m fully yours, Iris. You have to know that.” He turns her so that he can hold her gaze, and reaches up to curl his fingers around the back of her neck, his thumb hitting that mark again. Then he says,

“I love you. I will until you love me back and forever after that. And that means that I don’t see anyone but you. I haven’t seen anyone but you since the minute I laid eyes on you in that slinky dress you had on, dancing in the middle of the crowd by yourself.” He presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Even before, for months before, I couldn’t see anyone else. Because I was waiting for you, Iris.”

He gives her another kiss, this one longer, deeper, like the one he’d given her before he left her car. She finds herself humming into his mouth, her arms tightening around his shoulders. He rubs against her thigh, higher, then a little higher, until Iris is opening her legs to try to get some sort of friction.

Minutes or moments or eternity after, he pulls his mouth away, though he doesn’t move away from her fully. Instead, he looks at her, and she finds herself lost in him, in this dream of a story. She sees the words of it, my afternoon dream, when the world is speeding; i am still sleeping, in my blue dream and i know the meaning, for all the seasons; you are the reason, my love, and she wants to add to it, wants to let herself live in it, wants to finally fall into this love story without fear or reservation.

“Barry,” she says, whispers, and she notes how hooded his eyes look through the wire-framed glasses he’s wearing and how just the act of sitting here on his lap calms her at the same time that it inflames her. Then she thinks about his infinite levels of patience as he’s waited for her to be ready for him and how he’s always been interested in what she thinks or feels and how no one has even treated her body with the, the homage that he seems to. And she...and she loves him. “Barry, I…”

“Alright, Barry, we have…whoa.”

Iris blinks out of her haze, startles out of the confession she was about to make, at the sound of Cisco’s voice. Still, it takes a second before she’s able to pull herself from Barry, and from the expression he’s saddling her with, she thinks he might have an inkling of what she was about to say.

“None of this hanky panky,” Cisco continues, either oblivious or uncaring, Iris doesn’t know. “Spivot and Mitchell need to see us.”

“Alright,” Barry calls over her shoulder. “I’ll be down in five.”

When Cisco nods and leaves again, Iris is pulled back into Barry’s orbit. He palms the back of her neck, thumb brushing the mark on her throat. She assesses him.

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“I’m sorry.” He immediately goes red. He averts his eyes for a moment, before they drift back to her. “It’s tacky, I know, and I didn’t realize what I was doing until it was too late. This morning, I was, I don’t know, confused about us and I just…” He pressed his thumb into her skin. “I told you I’m not composed around you; I’m a mess.”

Iris covers his hand where it’s still on her throat. “You know that I’m yours too, right?” The earlier moment seems to have passed, but she can, needs to, give him this. His stare is hard and almost unreadable.

“Yeah,” he says after a while, sort of breathless. “Yeah, I guess you are.”

She wishes that she could stay in this moment with him, such a stark deviation from the way they’d left each other this morning. So she takes that feeling with her as she packs her salad up and helps him clean up the trash. Together, they venture into the hall and Barry leads her back out into the bullpen where Cisco is standing with Spivot and a tall, dark-skinned man with a baldhead and a beard. All three of them turn at the sound of Iris’s boots on the floors. Something about the look of them makes Iris grab Barry’s hand. Barry stops her a few feet away and leans down.

“I like how territorial you’re being,” Barry all but whispers in her ear. “I’ll come over after work and remind you why you don’t have to be.”

The thought of them this morning, the hard press of him, his breath rough in her ear, makes her look up at him, her eyes bright, bottom lip between the white of her teeth. It’s only Cisco’s pointed throat clearing that keeps her from falling mouth first into him.

Barry’s grin is knowing. “Bye, baby,” he says, a little louder this time, and Iris shakes her head, knowing he’s saying it in front of Patty for her benefit. He drops a kiss on her check and Iris nods at his coworkers.

“Detectives. Cisco.” She squeezes his hand once and drops it. “See you later, Bear.”

She steps away and walks out of the station, but not before she hears Mitchell say, “Damn, Allen, how did you bag that?”

She wishes she could explain that she’s the one that doesn’t know how she got him.

Barry does come over later, and as soon as he walks through the door, he pushes her up against the wall and fucks her, groaning “mine, mine, fuck, mine” into the bite on her throat, as Iris moans it back in kind, “yours, yes, Barry, I’m yours.”

My afternoon dream when

The world is sleepin'

I am still thinkin'

Of my blue dream

It's bliss

#westallen #westallen fanfiction #iris west #barry x iris #barry allen #strangers to lovers

18 notes · View notes

hanadolphieron · 3 years

Text

jedi!yves~

warnings; guns, death, injuries, war, space ships, swearing, suggestive content, clones, droids, heights, almost dying, lightsabers

genre; fluff, suggestive

pairing; ha sooyoung x gender neutral reader

word count; 3.8k

summary; after your supply ship receives a distress call from a neighboring planet, you and a fellow padawan, yves, are ordered to take and command a whole squadron of clone troopers to the planet’s surface. there’s a slight problem however- sexual tension

setting/time; middle of the clone wars

a/n; another space au because i’m self indulgent. have fun all you sooyoung stans that lurk on my blog. you know who you are ;) yves is such a star wars name and i used it the whole time so have fun with that <3

“all commanders to the bridge!” your comm blares at you. master luminara apparently has not heeded your warning about speaking loudly into the comm, as they are meant to be used in battle where loud voices are dangerous and could lead to discovery.

sighing, you break into a run (these ships are huge and distance is covered slowly unless you go nyoom) and head to the bridge.

a girl comes up behind you, barely making a noise. you flinch away as she runs past you, not expecting it.

not letting yourself lose this unspoken race, you speed up, moving up towards her.

she quickens her pace as well.

catching sight of the door to the bridge, you both start to sprint at the exact same time.

neither of you speak to each other, just side-eyed glances, and failed attempts at not breathing loud.

finally, you burst through the door (you definitely won) and slow to a calm, collected walk immediately, as to not look like the wild, competitive padawans that you are.

it seems you two are the only commanders on the ship, no one else arrived at the bridge.

master kenobi and master luminara stand around the projected grid together, turning their heads and looking as you trampled each other through the door.

staring at the two of them, you and the girl, who you suppose must be luminara’s padawan, walk forward towards the projection table as well.

“what’s going on?” the girl questions, before you could even catch your breath enough to ask something first.

kenobi responds, “captain rex just contacted us from geonosis. he says the battles there have decimated their numbers, and they are in desperate need of more troops.”

you stare at them. did they think you had a plan or something?

luminara speaks, “we want you and yves to take up the job.” yves must be the girl who raced you.

“wait, aren’t we supposed to be dropping supplies off at ryloth?” you say, remembering the mission you were given yesterday that was the whole reason you were on this big hunking clunk of metal.

“yes, but we have more than enough jedi on this ship to do that. besides, the two of you need some experience in battle. this is the perfect opportunity,” kenobi says, moving to lean his back against the table and cross his arms.

“you’ll have commander cody with you as well, you’ll be fine,” he adds.

“when do we leave?” yves asks, resting all her weight on her hands, which are situated on the edge of table. this position shows off her incredible forearms which you hadn’t noticed before.

and you shouldn’t be noticing, gosh y/n, what are you doing, you think, you’re a jedi, you can’t be having any sort of romantic thoughts (not that anyone follows that rule, but still) and besides, you’ve already set your mind on competing with this girl, not romanticizing about her.

you lapse back to reality right as master luminara says, “now.”

neither of you are particularly caught off guard by this, you’ve gotten used to running all over the galaxy for emergencies, but adrenaline still starts flowing through your body at the thought of going into battle, making your stomach feel light and your blood race.

“well, then, i guess we’ll see you later. should we meet you back here?” you ask, rolling your shoulders back.

“yes, you’ll fly all your remaining gun ships back to the hanger,” kenobi responds, “we’ll send you the coordinates whenever you’re ready. commander cody also received the message, he’ll tell you the plan.”

remaining gunships. he just had to word it that way, didn’t he?

“copy that,” you respond, “we’ll see you back here then.”

you move towards the exit, and yves follows. the doors open automatically, and you pass through them, accidentally hitting her elbow.

“watch it, honey,” she says in response.

“honey?” you exasperate, “what are you, an old woman?”

yves, apparently, was not expecting that response, and opens her mouth, then closes it, then says “i can call you honey if i want to,” in retaliation. “i mean, as long, as you’re, you know, okay with that,” she adds.

you are unsure how to respond to this as well. the two of you seem to have gotten into a pickle.

“i mean, yeah, but like, well, yeah,” you say, using the same sentence format unintentionally.

thankfully, yves doesn’t say anything else, and a tight, uncomfortable tension spreads between you.

you reach the doors of the hanger in silence. yves pushes in front of you and opens them for you, letting you walk through first.

“simp,” you mutter.

“what did you call me?” she inquires, turning to you. the position smushes the two of in the doorway together, and the close proximity makes your knees feel a little weak.

you slip under the arm that she’s using to hold the door and scoot into the room.

she follows you, back straight and head up, now confident in her skills at flustering you.

“you never answered my question,” she states as you walk towards the squad of troopers standing around ahead of you.

“didn’t want to,” you tell her shortly, a teasing smile gracing your face.

you reach the squad before she can say anything else, and the commander, cody, looks at you, calling the platoon to attention.

you always feel awkward when they do this, feeling undeserving of this kind of respect. you motion for them to relax and be “at ease” as they call it in military terms.

yves glances at you to see if you want her to do the talking, but you’re already speaking.

“master kenobi informed yves and i that geonosis is in danger. captain rex and his troops need our help, so we will be taking the gunships to the surface while masters luminara and kenobi will take the supplies to ryloth.”

everyone nods. it’s your turn to look at yves through your peripheral vision to see if she has anything to add. her eyes go to the side, meeting yours for a split second before she nods as well, and says, “let’s get this bread!”

the both of you march towards the ships, trying your best to inspire confidence in their tired hearts.

this war had been going on for long enough, and at this point you’re not even sure of what you’re fighting for. yeah, you know the separatists were taking over planets and enslaving people, but why should the jedi order be involved? aren’t we keepers of the peace? we’re certainly not soldiers, no matter how cool lightsaber fights look.

jumping onto the gunship farthest to the right, you watch as yves makes her way to the one next to you.

kenobi had instructed commander cody to take two ships to another part of geonosis and unload supplies before assisting the other two squads on the battlefield. yves would be taking the two supply squads, and you would be leading the other two into battle.

you don’t know if she’s the lucky one, not having to walk into battle as quickly, or the unlucky one, having to jump in after the first wave of destruction has caused, and seeing all the bodies and injuries with a clear head, rather than one clouded and detached from conflict.

you’re sure yves will be able to handle it. she seems to have a strong mind, one that doesn’t let anything get to it. her confidence is unmatched as well, although you did manage to make it falter with your old woman comment. you feel a little bad now, but it was all in good fun.

besides, teasing and messing with attractive women is your specialty. your men, the soldiers, always make fun of you for it, remarking about how you flirt with every single padawan you’re assigned to a mission with. they always laugh, and scold you for making a commander flustered, saying, “we’re not going to follow a jedi that’s blushing and stuttering over their words. nor one that’s raising their eyebrows and winking either!”

you smile to yourself. despite the horror and sorrow this war has caused, it has brought life-long friendships into your life, and memories you’ll keep forever.

seemingly reading your mind, one of the soldiers, chuck, leans against one of the ship walls and comments, “yves seems a little feisty compared to your normal prey.”

you chuckle at that, “do i seem caught off guard?”

“oh no, not at all commander, just commenting. you might have a little more trouble seducing her into kissing you. and besides,” chuck says, uncrossing his arms and stepping forward, a devious smile on his face, “you’ve been slacking off lately, too scared after padawan tano almost socked you in the jaw for calling her pretty.”

“stop it!” you say, your cheeks heating up and your body suddenly starting to sweat, “you’re making it sound like i’m objectifying them!” your voice raises in pitch, but not in an aggressive way. more like a, “i have no idea what i’m going to say next but i need to defend myself” way.

“i’m just appreciating the amazing goddess-like personalities, souls, and appearances of my fellow jedi,” you tell them.

“right, fellow jedi” tomato, another trooper says.

knowing what he means about “jedi” you retaliate, “hey, we all know no one follows the celibacy rule. that’s just there because the council can’t get any dates and doesn’t want anybody to succeed them in anything.”

“hey, everyone, quiet down and focus, we’re entering the war zone. including you, commander y/n,” cody says gruffly, stepping forward and opening the sliding doors on the sides of the ship.

you feel a bit offended at the interruption, but he was probably just saving you from saying anything controversial, something you’re known for, with your not-so-subtle resentment of the order’s slight corruption.

see, you really don’t mean to be a “rebel” or anything like that. you just find the system to be messed up sometimes, and want to talk about it.

and besides, most of the time your words come out harsher than you intend, or more aggressive than they sounded in your mind. despite your confident persona and flirty, teasing personality, the second the tables are turned on you you have no idea how to handle it. your plan never goes that far, and your mouth just spits out whatever thought came to your brain first. needless to say, it gets you into trouble.

moving towards the edge of the ship absentmindedly, you stare out at the clouds whizzing by. the sound of the wind screaming calms and focuses your mind. jedi mode unlocked.

jumping out of the ship, you plummet over a thirty feet to the ground, landing in a tucked position, and rolling across the dusty ground onto your feet. the gunship lands a few moments after, and your soldiers get out of it, following you through the canyon you were now trapped in.

walking forward fearlessly, you observe the canyon for future hiding spots and places to utilize in the devious plan you were inevitably going to have to make.

the walls are high, tall enough that you can’t see over the edge no matter how far away you get. however, you could possibly climb them in the event of a trap- they are covered in jagged edges and good places to station snipers.

the canyon itself is dry, dusty, and red. small tufts of grass grow here and there. not for long though, they’ll burn during the fighting. it stretches an endless distance behind you, but you catch sight of the dead end up ahead, where captain rex and his troops are supposed to be stationed.

there’s ample fighting room in some parts, where the width is about as big as three houses standing side by side. in others, the breadth is just enough to hold four soldiers.

captain rex and three other troops emerge from the dead end, sporting muddy, ripped armor. they look exhausted.

“hello, commander y/n,” rex says, “we’re glad you’re finally here, we’ve almost reached our breaking point.”

“what happened?” you ask, now a little worried, but you try not to let it show.

“droids surrounded us, trapped us in the dead end and obliterated half of our platoon. the rest of us are either injured or about to drop dead from keeping the camp alive. we couldn’t see them coming, the walls were too high for us to spot them flying in. the sniper droids kept us in tight places, we couldn’t leave from behind the bunches of rocks we were hiding behind for cover without getting shot.”

you nod. “looks like we’ll have to be smarter than average this time, do something different. the droids have been picking up our normal battle plans, and are being programmed to counter them.”

rex’s face looks grim. he turns to walk back to the camp. you follow him.

“well, at least you’re here.”

“yep. the other half of our platoon is dropping of supplies, but they’ll be here at some point. probably to make a dramatic entrance in the middle of battle and save us all.”

rex laughs a little at that, “who’s the commander?”

“padawan yves.”

“sounds like her.”

“you know her?” you ask him, wanting to know more about this slightly mysterious jedi that has piqued your interest.

“from what people have said, yes. never met her, but everyone talks about her intimidating presence. makes droids fall over with just her stare. says she fights well, but has never taken a liking to it. prefers flying apparently.”

“hmm,” is all you say.

piloting. that’s hot. you hope there’ll be an opportunity to go on a sky mission with her- flirting while shooting ships down is such an aesthetic.

walking into the camp, your heart drops. what rex said was practically an understatement.

everyone looked exhausted- slouching, limping, lying down, frowning, all of the above. less than half the platoon was out, gone forever. someone had managed to close off a corner to put the bodies, but the smell of death was overwhelming. the supply of food in one of the tents could hardly be called a supply, more like some organized scraps.

you can see how the ambush must have happened. the dead end was shaped in a circle, and the rolling droids with shields around them must have stationed themselves at the top of the canyon, boxing in the clones and forcing them to hide.

“we’ll have to make a plan right away, commander. the droids could come back any minute now. the only reason they left was because they heard jedi were coming, and their general wanted them to regroup before attacking in order to eliminate the jedi,” rex says grimly.

you don’t like the idea, forcing these poor soldiers to fight again, after losing so much of their brethren, but you have no other choice, “do you have a map of the canyon?” you ask, needing a visual in order to plan the attack.

rex lifts up the flap to one of the tents and walks towards the projection table inside it, clicking a button and pulling up the map.

observing it, you don’t see many options. well, you see a lot, but most involve imminent death and sacrifice.

finally, you catch sight of something. a little niche in the dead end is near a rugged system of rock steps. if you manage to parkour up to the top, you could take out the rolling droids.

“there’s this niche here,” you say, pointing, “i could hide there while the squads station themselves at the entrance to the dead end, and attack the foot droids, keeping them occupied. once the rolling droids come, i could jump up those stairs and catch them from behind.”

rex nods, “that could work.”

the two of you survey the map for any faults, and find a lot, but most of them are nothing you can do anything about, just chance losses that could be detrimental the survival of your entire platoon.

you both sigh, thinking the same thing.

you don’t have enough people.

the troopers will be overrun, considering how the droid army is preparing for a jedi. and if they don’t see one, they’re going to do their absolute best to find one and eliminate them, no matter who or what gets in their way.

“let’s go tell them,” rex says, turning around to leave the tent.

“no,” you stop him, “i’ll tell them, you get some rest.”

rex begrudgingly agrees, and you are satisfied. these soldiers are going to need as much energy as possible if this is going to work.

you tell the soldiers your plan, doing your best to cheer them up with jokes and confidence. they do their best to look less exhausted as well.

since you didn’t know when the droids were going to appear, everyone had to get in their positions right away.

and you all sat there. waiting for bloodshed.

and it came, taking you by surprise.

the familiar, repulsive sound of droid guns fires into your ears, grabbing your fight-or-flight instinct by the neck and jostling it up like a box of cereal.

you spur into action, poising yourself in a crouching stance, getting ready to parkour-parkour up the rocky steps. surveying the cliff for the best place to attack first, you catch sight of a small gap, right where the last step breaks off, right where you planned to jump onto the top of the canyon.

without even thinking where you’re going, your body starts moving, flowing with adrenaline and the force, a feeling you’re used to, and you relax into the movement, powering up the steps, leaping up inhuman heights.

reaching the last edge, you flip onto the surface of geonosis, using the dust to hide your form, and run, head-ducked and body crouched, towards the first droid.

lightsaber glowing green, you slide under the blue shield surrounding the sniper, and stab through the power core, rendering the sniper powerless. somehow, the other droids don’t notice you, and you keep going, making your way across the semi-circle edge of the dead end, not even bothering to look down into the canyon at the battle raging.

the next few snipers are quick work, you slash through them like they’re made of putty, the metal cores sizzling and burning out like broken copper lightbulbs. this is too easy, you think to yourself. something’s bound to happen.

as you reach the fifth one, the other droids finally register you felling their kin, and two of the remaining four focus their fire on you.

deflecting their shots with your blade, you sprint to one still firing at the battle below, and ruin it like all the others. and as you hide behind its flickering shield, you see what you’ve been missing all this time.

the sniper droids you’ve been destroying up here weren’t the only ones on the playing field. there are six more, heading straight for your soldiers down below. and you won’t make it in time.

yet you have to.

legs moving faster than ever before, you hoon down the line of droids, barely glancing at the laser bullets aimed towards you before deflecting them. you try to make them hit the rolling droids down below, but it’s no use. their shields are too strong.

you fight back tears. you don’t cry a lot, but then again, you don’t mess up so bad that 30+ people are about to die because of your bad planning either.

finishing off the last droids, you turn towards the canyon. you’re too far away from the steps you came up on to go back then. and you’re too far away from the ground in the canyon to jump down.

you know the former won’t work. you’ll reach the battle and be met with dead bodies and an infinite surplus of gunshots hitting your in the face, causing to do die.

and the latter will most likely kill you as well.

however, the odds are slightly more in your favor, and with the force of your fall, you could knock the shields enough to give the clones a chance to shoot the droids down. and even though that would mean you would be shot too, you start back-stepping away from the canyon, readying yourself.

it’s okay, you tell yourself. this is what jedis are meant to do, sacrifice themselves for the greater good.

aiming for the middle of the six droids, you start running forward. maybe the shields will stop your fall enough to save you, comes a tiny bulb of hope in your chest. you push it down and don’t listen.

your legs move faster and faster, nearing the edge of cliff before you know it, and you push off, sailing into midair, halting right above the circle of droids and falling, down, down, down into them.

wind whistles around you, and a familiar sound fills your ears. you can’t place it. it blends in with the wind, but it sounds different, more mechanical, and stable.

you don’t have time to think about it. you can barely see the ground you’re about to die on, but it’s close. too close. and getting closer. and closer. the sound gets louder. and louder.

and then something out of the corner of your eye appears next to you, and someone grabs you hand.

the force of it almost dislocates your shoulder. you’re dragged into a ship. head spinning, everything moving fast, you barely register the features around you- but you know what it is.

a gunship.

a face appears in front of yours.

your focus moves completely onto it. as it becomes clearer, and your vision stops blurring, you recognize the person.

it’s yves.

“thought i lost you there for a second,” she says casually, cupping you cheek and lifting your face towards yours, meeting your eyes with hers. in your dazed state of shock you don’t see the terrified, worrisome look rippling across her features.

“they-” you stutter out, “go help rex,” you manage.

“don’t worry, we’re already on it,” she says.

you look outside the ship, your face still expressionless except for the confusion keeping your eyes wide and your mouth open, and see the droids gone, obliterated by the gunships’ firepower,

you can still see droids fighting your soldiers, as the ships can’t fire to close to your men, but the droids, the ones you were about to sacrifice yourself to end, are gone.

you move to let yves know that you can go help them still, your mouth opening like a fish looking for food, but yves turns your face towards hers again, her hand still firmly holding your jaw, keeping you stationed in reality. “you stay here,” she says, “i’ll go help.”

and with that, she leans down, presses a delicate but protective kiss on your open lips, and jumps off the ship.

#loona #ha sooyoung #loona imagines #loona fluff #loona x reader #femifics #sooyoung x reader #yves x reader #kpop imagines #loona reactions #loona scenarios #yves loona #loona yves #sooyoung loona #loona sooyoung

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wordsablaze · 3 years

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Revolutionary Embrace

When it's just the two of them left in the tardis, Thirteen and Yaz finally get round to the just as awkward but much softer and sincere reunion they both deserve...

A/N: happy new year !! thought i'd start 2021 with a lil thasmin fix-it because i just want our space girlfriends to be happy <3

“It’s okay to be sad.”

Yaz doesn’t take her eyes off the Doctor, not even after the tardis doors quietly click shut and both of them are left standing in silence, save for the quiet thrumming of the tardis around them.

Thirteen sighs and turns, finally taking her eyes off the doorway but still unsure how to approach the dangerously soft look in Yaz’s eyes, the one she’s seen so many times before, the one she’s regretted causing in the first place so many times before.

“Yaz, I…”

When she doesn’t continue, Yaz sighs, walking over so she’s leaning on the railing directly beside the Doctor. “It’s okay. I’m sure they won’t mind if you visit every now and then.”

Well, that’s really not what Thirteen had thought she’d want to talk about. She blinks, then shakes her head, grinning sheepishly. “I’m not very good at timing the whole ‘now and then’ thing.”

The tardis seems to thrum louder at that, perhaps in sympathy or perhaps in outrage, and both of them laugh awkwardly. Yaz leans a little closer, gently nudging the doctor with her elbow. “Hey, did you really mean to come back as soon as you’d left?”

Ah, so they are going into that after all. Thirteen sighs, letting her head drop as she exhales. As much as she appreciates the way Yaz is waiting patiently for an answer, she hates the quiet between them. It feels cold and wrong and nothing like the way things should be. Not for the first time, she wishes she could turn back the clock and try again.

“Yes,” she answers eventually. “Yes, of course, I really thought I set the coordinates right. I didn’t mean to be gone so long, I swear.”

Yaz hums in acknowledgement. “You, uhm, you were smiling. When you got back, that is. Was that just for our benefit then, so we wouldn’t know how long you’d been gone?”

It’s almost frightening, the way Thirteen doesn’t even know who she is anymore but Yaz can still read her like an open book. Maybe it’s the new body, she thinks, and there’s something about her face in this regeneration that makes her easier to decipher. Maybe it has something to do with Yaz being the first person she really interacted with in this new body, she thinks, and something had blossomed between them because of that. Maybe-

“Doctor?” Yaz asks softly, pulling her out of her musings.

Thirteen lifts her head up again and offers Yaz a smile. “Gold star for Yaz.”

“How long were you in... space prison?” Yaz asks, her voice somehow even quieter than before, so quiet that even the tardis seems to pause her thrumming so none of the words get lost in the mostly but not entirely metaphorical distance between them.

She thinks of the tally marks, the endless strikes of white against uncaring stone walls, and the way she could navigate her daily walk or narrate every creature she goes past even in her sleep by the time Jack had made his way inside. She thinks of every time she’d wished she could leave and every time she’d wished she could see her lovely team back on earth again. She thinks of the clothes she’d been made to wear and how they were so impersonal, nothing like the outfit she’d picked out for herself with the help of the others, and how she’d felt so unlike herself in them.

Turning to face Yaz properly, Thirteen sighs. “Too long, Yaz, too long.”

“I’m sorry,” Yaz murmurs as if any of this could possibly be her fault.

Thirteen shakes her head. “It’s not your fault. Seeing you all again was the only thing that mattered. Did you guys miss me?” she half-jokes.

Yaz chuckles but her fingers are clenched into fists and her eyebrows are furrowed into a strange frown. Without thinking, Thirteen reaches for Yaz’s hands, covering them with her own and waiting as Yaz’s eyes widen in surprise before she looks up, something like hope shining in her beautiful brown eyes.

“I missed you. Every day. All of you! My wonderful, brilliant fam…” She trails off as the hope inside Yaz’s eyes fades into something darker, something more dismal and disappointed, but she doesn’t stop talking. “I knew Ryan and Graham would be there for each other, they’re great when they’re not bickering! But I’d hoped- well, I’d hoped I could be back before you... I didn’t want to leave you alone, Yaz.”

Yaz’s fingers slowly unfurl but instead of moving closer, she shakes her head and steps backwards, her hands slipping out from under the Doctor’s as she blinks slowly, clearly trying to calm herself down. “I wasn’t alone, Ryan and Graham came by a lot and I- I didn’t always notice how much time had passed, you know? Must be something to do with being inside the tardis, I guess.”

Thirteen nods. “Yeah, the tardis is pretty great, she’s… she always seems to know what to do.”

The tardis seems to thrum in approval but then she goes quiet again and Thirteen can literally feel the way that’s just to let her know it’s her turn to comfort their human now. She just wishes she knew how.

“So what do you say we celebrate the new year in the Meringue galaxy anyway?”

Yaz slips her hands into her pockets and nods slowly, half a smile blooming on her face. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, that sounds nice. I don’t even remember the last time I ate one of those anyway so it should be fun.”

Thirteen smiles back, hesitating for only a moment before reaching her left hand out towards Yaz. She hadn’t predicted the way Yaz’s expression seems to crumple but before she can panic about it, Yaz has thrown herself forwards, this time not to shove her away but to pull her close, Yaz’s arms looping around the Doctor’s neck almost desperately as she bites back a sob.

Her breath hitches but Thirteen lets herself relax into the embrace, slowly curling her own arms around Yaz and letting her eyes slip shut as she breathes in the scent of leather and lavender, a genuine smile growing on her face as the air around them fills with warmth, a warmth she’d almost forgotten could even exist.

“I missed you too,” Yaz mumbles into her shoulder, her voice thick and on the verge of breaking. Thirteen pulls Yaz closer in response, tightening her grip as the tardis thrums happily above them.

“I’m sorry for disappearing,” Thirteen whispers, “but I promise to try and never let you down.”

Yaz sighs but shows no sign of wanting to pull away, her fingers staying firmly curled around the Doctor’s jacket as if trying to physically anchor them together, as if she doesn’t believe they’re not going to be separated again, as if she expects Thirteen to disappear as soon as she lets go.

It’s not like Thirteen is complaining. She loves the feel of Yaz in her arms, she loves the way the rest of existence doesn’t seem to matter as much when she has Yaz’s arms around her, and she loves the way they fit together so well. It seems a shame they’ve waited so long to do this and for a moment, Thirteen wishes she could go back in time and do it earlier, before the whole mess of ten missing months.

“Thank you for coming back,” Yaz says after what feels like forever, pulling back just enough for their eyes to meet but still mostly wrapped around one another. “I was worried we’d never see you again.”

Thirteen shakes her head. “Oh, Yaz. The tardis and I couldn’t stand to have this universe without you, or any other universe really. I honestly can’t think of a single universe that wouldn’t want a Yaz!”

This time, Yaz’s smile fills her face, small crinkles emerging beside her eyes and a soft blush dancing across her cheeks. “I think I’ll just stick with you, Doctor.”

The tardis thrums in agreement.

“Well, I can’t argue with that!” Thirteen grins, pleased with the way Yaz laughs brightly and making a note to have more moments like this in the future.

When they finally, finally pull themselves apart from their warm embrace, Yaz carefully slides her fingers between the Doctor’s. Thirteen beams at her, squeezing her hand before going to start both the tardis engines and their journey to celebrate the new year properly.

It won’t be same as the last time they’d all gone to see nineteen different fireworks displays but somehow the change doesn’t seem so bad anymore, not when Yaz is smiling like her dreams have come true and the tardis is thrumming as if the whole universe is at peace and Thirteen finally feels like she’s truly back home.

Robertson may have been majorly wrong about the daleks being revolutionary but Thirteen can safely say she has no doubt that Yaz most definitely is.

this was very self-indulgent tbh but hey, maybe someone else can find a lil enjoyment in a thasmin hug :)

thanks for reading !! masterlist | doctor who blog: @thasmine

#thasmin #thirteen x yaz #doctor who #revolution of the daleks #fanfiction #thirteenth doctor #yaz khan #yasmin khan #fix it fic #fanfic #fluff #hurt comfort #hugs #everyone needs a hug #everyone gets a hug #if bbc won't give us cute thasmin content then i'll write it myself #my writing #re #no beta we die like daleks

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bobasheebaby · 4 years

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Get to know Ruby & Beau

Faceclaim is Skylar Samuels

Ruby Rys

How tall are they?

5’5” heels with dresses are a must but she’s just as comfortable in a pair of sneakers, cowboy boots or sparring boots. Yea she’s not really short but Galen towers over her and Lovett is almost taller than her.

How do they tend to dress?

She goes for comfort and ease in day to day life, easy to move, and nothing that an attacker could use to their advantage.

She loves the beautiful easy look of bohemian, but she analyzed every piece of clothing she buys in terms of if it could be used to render her at a disadvantage.

She never wears anything that could be used against her even when dressed up and can sprint in her heels.

Do they like how they look?

When she was little she hated it, she hated her blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes, she wanted with all her heart to match her mama with emerald eyes and fiery red hair or her papa with jet black hair and smoky grey eyes. She wanted to look like her family and hated that she didn’t look anything like either parent like all of her classmates. They sat her down and told her she was very special because she looked exactly like both her parents whom she never had the chance to meet but was so much like them. They told her she was so lucky because she resembled four people instead of two even if some of it wasn’t superficial.

Are they an only child or do they have any siblings?

She has two younger brothers. Galen is five years (and a week) younger and Lovett is eight years younger. She loves them both dearly. They are both very protective of their big sister. There have been questions in the past, Ruby has long flaxen blonde hair and bright sapphire blue eyes, both of her brothers have dark smokey grey eyes, Galen has black hair and Lovett has a deep dark Auburn, so people have questioned how they could be related, Ruby certainly takes after her mother with her sharp tongue and always replies “have you never heard of adoption?” Which always gets the other person to stutter and apologize before running while Ruby, Galen, and Lovett double over in a fit of giggles.

Are they a morning person or night owl?

Neither, she enjoys her sleep but she’d prefer to get up early and get an early start on her day, maybe get in a run or an extra sparring session than stay up late.

Are they a cat person or a dog person?

Neither, dogs are loud and a pain in the ass, and cats are indifferent little assholes. Well now that she thinks about it, cats are a lot like her mama, but she likes things to be neat and in order and would hate pet hair on everything. She’ll stand by neither. Though she did have a soft spot for Beau’s golden retriever she’d prefer to own no pets herself.

Got any favourite foods?

Chocolate cake! Her mama’s stew. When they moved to Texas Liv was a lot happier despite the heat because hunting was prominent in the region.

How about favourite drinks?

She just turned twenty-one. Her mama let her have wine with dinner when she turned eighteen, “we may live in America, but we are still Europeans.” She really wants to try a martini like James Bond.

She loves hot chocolate.

What are their favourite movies/tv shows?

Action! Give her movies like Top Gun any day. She can’t stand sappy dramas or romcoms, probably something she got from her mother. Though she will point out any inaccuracies in the fight scenes or anything else.

Do they have any hidden talents?

She’s a black belt in taekwondo. She is extremely skilled in self-defense and weapons.

She can use her heels as weapons.

Do they believe in love at first sight?

She’s too pragmatic for all that. Love is something that happens slowly over time. Love happens little by little until one day you wake up and can’t believe you didn’t see it before.

Who is their love interest?

Beau Larkin (OC)

What are they afraid of?

Letting her parents down. (Wow didn’t mean to get that deep.)

What are their guilty pleasures?

She has pleasures but she’s not guilty about any of them. She loves taekwondo and hates when she can’t train. She loves sweets, particularly chocolate, and allows herself to indulge whenever she has a craving. She loves to run and to weapons train.

What was their dream job as a kid? Is it still their dream?

A stuntman. She started taekwondo when she was five and fell in love with the martial art. She would watch the stunt scenes in action movies sitting on the edge of her seat. She wanted so much to do the crazy dangerous stunts she saw in the movies.

No, she has a more important job to do now.

Have they ever broken a bone?

Yes, she has broken her foot, hand, nose, and cracked two ribs.

Broke her foot shortly after turning 10, she was casted and had to pause her training which devastated her.

Broke her hand when she was 13.

Broke her nose during a tournament when she was 15. She howled in pain and gushed blood all over her gi but she wouldn’t give up and ended up winning her match.

Cracked two ribs when she was 17 training with Beau. Beau felt horrible and offered to let her do the same to him.

Have they ever been in trouble with the law?

No.

+ three other random facts about them!

She’s fluent in Greek, and French, still working on Italian, but she could get by.

Her early interest in politics shifted her career goal from stuntwoman (though she’d still love that job) to get a degree in PolySi

She’s a Virgin. They both are. She loves Beau and they mess around a bit but she also has her priorities and she doesn’t want to risk sidelining her life and he would never push.

Faceclaim is KJ Appa

Beau Larkin

How tall are they?

6’

How do they tend to dress?

Jeans, comfortable tees, flannels or hoodies when it’s cooler. Converse or cowboy boots are his favorite shoes.

Do they like how they look?

He’s never had reason to dislike his looks. He’s tall, fairly fit, though he’s in better shape since he started training with Ruby.

are they an only child or do they have any siblings?

He is the second of three children, and only son. Carlyn is three years older than him and AnnaBeth is six years younger.

Are they a morning person or night owl?

More night owl than morning person, hates mornings but he will get up early to jog with Ruby.

Are they a cat person or a dog person?

Animal lover though he only ever had dogs as pets.

got any favourite foods?

Twizzlers, fried chicken, meatloaf, and potatoes au gratin.

How about favourite drinks?

Sweet tea

What are their favourite movies/tv shows?

He loves thrillers, sitting at the edge of your seat, dying to know how it will end oh yea. He had to learn how to watch any action or movies heavy on stunts with Ruby cause she will point out every inaccuracy.

Do they have any hidden talents?

He can lasso a calf and hogtie like it’s no-one’s business.

Do they believe in love at first sight?

Love at first sight, no, an instant spark that grows into more, yes.

Who is their love interest?

Ruby Johnson Rys

what are they afraid of?

Losing someone he loves. Heights.

What are their guilty pleasures?

Reading. His good looks have had people peg him as a dumb jock but he loves reading. He will read almost any genre but he really enjoys historical fiction.

What was their dream job as a kid? Is it still their dream?

Big animal veterinarian or Physical Therapist, well he was set to finish his training in physical therapy in three and a half years.

have they ever broken a bone?

No, though he asked Ruby to crack his ribs to repay him for accidentally cracking hers, she didn’t.

have they ever been in trouble with the law?

No, he would not like to face his mom or Nan after.

+ three other random facts about them!

He’s closer to his Nan than his mom. He’s close with his parents but he’s always had a special relationship with Nan. He was her first grandson and she showered him with affection. He still loves helping out Nan, and he and Ruby have dinner with his grandparents every weekend.

Though he was semi popular in high school it took him some time to finally get the nerve to talk to Ruby. He admired the way she was unafraid to ‘act like one of the boys’ and wasn’t as boy crazy as the other girls.

He’s a very experienced horse rider and actually competed a little in junior rodeo.

CoRu taglist:

@speedyoperarascalparty @liamxs-world @annekebbphotography @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @ao719 @blackwidow2721 @stopforamoment @akrenich @gardeningourmet @daniv2278 @bella-ca @gibbles82 @choiceslife @blackcoffee85 @sirbeepsalot @mrskamilxh @dcbbw @alicars @desireepow-1986 @mfackenthal @bhavf @indiacater @drakesensworld @kingliam2019 @walkerswhiskeygirl @ladyangel70 @jovialyouthmusic @edgiestwinter @rainbowsinthestorm @janezillow @sleepwalkingelite @texaskitten30 @traeumerinwitzhelden @bbrandy2002 @jared2612 @blackcatkita @darley1101 @innerpostmentality @lolablackwrites @endlessflame @fullbeaumonty @hhiggs @itsalliepg @smalltalk88 @littlegreenmoo @mynameiskaylabella @bobbersb @imma-winchester-addict @cordonianroyalty @loveellamae @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @katedrakeohd @forthebrokenheartedthings @super-secret-fandom-blog @burnsoslow @queenjilian @bebepac @datynasuha @hopefulmoonobject @queen-arabella-of-cordonia

#ruby rys #beau larkin #get to know my ocs #cordonian ruby #CoRu #get to know ruby & beau

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babyboydbaby · 3 years

Text

Anonymous said to babyboydbaby:

The DTLS thing in particular I am curious about.

(OOH OKAY I was HOPING you’d ask about that~!

*Rubs hands together* So basically, my buddy Theo (aka @hardheadedbighearted ) and I had a messy divorce with the anime R//WB//Y for a number of reasons. Whether it was bad writing, ableist writing, ableist bad writing, racist writing...

...Okay yeah, it was mostly the writing. I’ll spare you the copious paragraphs of salt, but the TL;DR is that the writers really dropped the ball in a lot of places, especially when it came to the characterization of a lot of characters. One in particular that got a lot of that treatment was his beloved James Ironwood. A good man who, even with all his flaws, cared about protecting people was reduced to a cartoony dictator villain over stupid writing choices in the span of the last two seasons.

Anyway, after the mess that was volume 7, Theo made a canon-divergent RP blog for him. And since I had my Boyd blog, I was like ‘Here, a good boy for James to befriend!’

...And then what was supposed to be a small, fun thread turned into eight volumes’ worth of a super-developed AU where many of the events that unfolded within happened because of a friendship between Boyd and Dr. James Ironwoof.

I say volumes as in eight threads, many of which hit about 1k notes. That’s not including Interstitials, text ask threads between characters, or just small 1-off posts regarding events within the AU.

We’ve brought in a fair amount of the cast on both sides, developed a LOT of them in ways we never expected, and actually LIKE some characters we once either had no strong feelings for or outright disliked. I’m 100% convinced that this AU made me like Gyro because I DESPISED him before bringing him into the AU and getting super attached to him and his arc of confronting his past, recovering from it slowly but surely, actually connecting with people in a healthy way, and also getting a handsome werewolf boyfriend.

And neither of us had any strong feelings towards Clover from canon R///W//B/Y because he was bland as hell and only existed to die and fuel Qrow’s manpain. Now he’s Fenton’s dorky superhero BF and they have a child together!

The AU is so self-indulgent and such a comfort to me, and I never would’ve imagined it coming as far as it had when we first started it. We both adore it SO much and I LOVE coming up with new concepts and ideas to bring into the AU.

Also not to boost my own ego and say it’s better than canon R///W///BY, but....I’ve heard what they’ve been doing there and I’m not about to lie to myself. If you like canon R///W///BY, good for you! I personally will never be returning to it again because this AU gives me so much more than it ever could thanks to my incredibly talented RP partner.)

#Asks #Anonymous #DTLS AU

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like-the-wings-of-butterflies · 4 years

Text

This Moment In Time (Racetrack Higgins x Reader)

Summary: Upon moving into your first apartment with Race, you’re reminded of the moments that led you to where you are

Warnings: Some mild angst quickly followed by sweet sweet fluff because I’m an absolute sucker for it

Word Count: 2,244 (this is longer then any of my usual stuff wtf)

A/N: I KNOW I’M A QUEEN BLOG BUT I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS AND DIDN’T FEEL LIKE SETTING UP ANOTHER BLOG TO POST IT SO ENJOY SOME OF MY OTHER FANDOM NONSENSE

A.K.A - I rewatched Newsies for the upteenth time (god bless you disney +) and it sparked an idea which is only a tiny little bit self indulgent

Feedback and comments are always appreciated! ♡

“So this is it.” You breathed into the darkened room, a smile dancing on your lips.

Race placed the burning candle in the centre of the one room apartment before rising to his feet again and grasping hold of your hand. The gentle flickering glow revealed that the small apartment. It was neglected to say the least, paint peeling from the walls, dust-encased windows and the odd squeaking floorboard; certainly a step up from the lodging house however. “I know it ain’t what we were dreamin’ of, not even close, but it’s-“

“It’s got a roof and it’s got you,” You finished for him, squeezing his hand in assurance with an honest smile despite him barely being able to see through the darkness. “It’s perfect. Nothin’ a bit of cleanin’ won’t fix.”

Truly, you couldn’t help but fall for the mess that was Racetrack Higgins. When you first showed up on the doorstep of the lodging house at the age of 13, it was Race that volunteered to take you under his wing and teach you the fine art that was selling newspapers. Staying as his selling partner permanently wasn’t exactly part of the plan, either was becoming one another’s best friend, but the pair of you couldn’t imagine selling with anyone else; having grown too accustomed to each other’s company.

He’d always flirt with you - as he would with every other person who’d give him the time of day— flattering you with compliments and cheesy pick up lines at every opportunity. You’d flirt back of course, not being able to resist the handsome blonde’s charm, but at the cost of catching feelings; no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, a childhood crush steadily emerged, turning the heads of the other newsboys.

But as the years progressed, you both matured into young adults. Your experiences bringing you closer together as you grew fonder of one another day by day.

Never in your entire life did you think you’d be living anywhere else but the crumbling walls of the lodging house or in one of New York’s damp alleyways. Yet here you were, hand-in-hand with your fiancé, settling into your first home together. Many were shocked that you were engaged at such a young age, but neither of you could truly see yourselves without the other in your life. Now too old to live in the lodging house, Race ironically managed to find work operating printing presses, and you as a server at Jacobi’s. In a unlikely twist of fate, you managed to earn enough money to move into the small apartment and support yourselves, all while keeping a close eye on the other Newsies.

“Should we check out the penthouse?” Race grinned ear to ear, running to the window upon your nod. He wrestled with the frame for moment before it opened with a satisfying ‘crack’ that echoed through the apartment, before stepping out onto the fire escape.

“M’lady~“ Race offered his outstretched hand with a charming smile, helping you step onto the raised surface. Your breath hitched as you saw the landscape in your surrounds. You were about four floors up which made the view expansive, and you suddenly became keenly aware of how many beautiful sunrises you’d be able to watch from your current position. You’d been in Jack’s penthouse on a couple occasions, but never just to sit and admire the view.

“How the hell did we make it here Racer?” You breathed in awe as you watched lights and lampposts decorate the otherwise dull streets of New York, like little stars in a blackened sky.

Race wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a sweet embrace, your back pressed against his chest and his head resting on your shoulder, “I was just the prettiest Newsie you’s had ever seen and you’s couldn’t help but fall for me,” He teased, pressing a long kiss against the side of your neck as he giggled lightly to himself.

“You don’t think growin’ up or working together our whole lives had anythin’ to do with it?” You jested back, reaching a hand behind you to fiddle with the curls upon his head as you closed your eyes and leaned into his embrace.

“Absolutely not. But the strike?” He mused thoughtfully, “That’s when I realised I loved you.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was no surprise waking up to Race sitting on the cold floorboards beside your bunk the night after the strike had been announced. Your beds weren’t too far from one another and Race always slept lightly, often being the call of comfort whenever anyone was having nightmares. He gently shook you awake while brushing away the tears that stained your face, smiling lightly once your eyes opened.

“What’s goin’ on Doll?,” He whispered out, careful not to wake the others, “Why you’s havin’ nightmares?”

“I’m scared what we’re doin’ is gonna get us all hurt,” You croaked out into the darkness, doing your best to hold back a sob. “That we’s gonna end up in the Refuge.” Nobody was oblivious to the chances of the strike ending in violence, the stakes were high; you were only a group of kids fighting against one of the most powerful men in New York after all.

Race’s hand stilled on the side of your face, his warm palm flat against your cheek grounding you and bringing you a sense of comfort. He could see in your eyes just how scared you were.

“I’m scared too,” He admitted before pausing, seemingly collecting his thoughts, “But we’s gonna be okay. Jack and Davey are smart, they’s know what they’re doin’.” He vowed, taking hold of one of your hands and rubbing his thumb against your knuckles.

You both sat in silence for quite some time, both too distracted by your thoughts swirling around your heads. As you felt your eyelids growing heavy, you lightly tugged on Race’s arm who brought his eyes up to meet yours.

“Stay with me?” You queried, eyes hopeful.

Without so much as a second thought, he lifted the thin sheet covering your body before sliding into the small bed, his chest pressed against your back, “Anythin’ for you (Y/N).”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A few days later, when the bulls attacked, you were an absolute mess; much like the others. In such a short amount of time, your entire world had flipped upside down and everything was shrouded in a new sense of seriousness.

Of the entire group, Davey, Mush, Albert and yourself had come out relatively unscathed - save for a couple bruises - meaning you’d been tasked with patching up the others who weren’t as lucky. You’d just finished tying up Les’ arm into a sling, only as a temporary measure however, just to stop the energetic boy from exercising it too much until he got home. You bargained on the fact that Mrs Jacobs would have a far better fix to his seemingly broken arm, knowing that if worst came to worst, the family could afford a doctor.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” You grinned softly as you walked towards Race in the back corner of the lodging house, shrouding himself in the shadows of the late afternoon sun.

“Ha ha.” He imitated, his usual playful attitude absent as he refused to look in your direction.

Something wasn’t right.

With your bodies facing each other, his legs hung over the edge of the table he was perched on as you remained standing. After a few moments of unmoving silence, you lightly tapped his knee, asking him to move so you could stand between his legs. He complied, but kept his eyes secured to the wall on your right. Slowly, you reached out to cup his jaw with a gentle hand, tilting his face to meet yours. You face fell the instant you saw the extent of his injuries.

His left eye was swollen shut, with hints of black already forming on the delicate skin. His chin was tinged an unforgivable red from where he’d wiped away the blood from his busted lip and damp trails ran from his watery right eye.

He’d been crying.

Your own tears welled up when he looked you in the eye, and you found yourself biting your lip to stop any from falling.

With your other hand, you grasped hold of the brim of his worn hat and placed it on the table beside him, letting the mess of curls fall lose against his face.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded solemnly, bringing a hand up to wipe away at his own tears before resting his head against your chest and wrapping his arms around your back, “You?”

“Just shaken up.” You stated, wasting no time in wrapping your arms around his shoulders and placing your chin upon his head. The pair of you stayed like that for an extended period of time, without anyone questioning you. It was a hard day for everyone, no one needed to make it any harder. After some time, the sun had set and the lodging house was quieter then ever before. You longed to sit down and fall asleep yourself, your legs sore and aching. But you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb the heavy sleeping form of your best friend. The years of denial on your behalf, stating that you hadn’t caught feeling for Race were long forgotten now.

The things you’d do to make that moment last forever.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A few days later, you and the other Manhattan Newsies had recovered for the most part. Physically, everyone were well on their way to healing, but emotionally there was still a fair way to go. Crutchie was still in the Refuge and Jack was still missing but everyone had managed to rest up while Davey reassessed the group’s future movements.

While the others sat glumly in Jacobi’s, you’d decided to go for a long stroll around New York to clear your head, musing the thought of visiting Crutchie in the Refuge. He was one of your closest friends, so sweet and so caring with an equally as vibrant personality, the thought of him in such a wretched place brought tears to your eyes.

You’d helped Jack smuggle food and blankets on too many occasions to count; how difficult could it be without him?

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the shout of your name from a long way down the busy street. Race’s figure came into view quickly, his chest was heaving as he sprinted down the cobblestone footpath towards you. Immediately, you panicked, thinking Race had been caught stealing cigars again and the cops were on their way but much to your surprise, he slowed as he neared you. Rather then desperation being painted across his features, his face held joy. Pure, unadulterated joy.

“We’s in the papes (Y/N)!” He gasped out, bending to place his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

“What are you talkin’ about Race?”

“Katherine got us in the paper!,” He heaved, sweat glistening on his forehead. He pulled the rolled up newspaper from underneath a strap of his suspenders, before unrolling it to the front page and holding it out to you, “Look! That’s us!” He beamed, pointing a finger at the image underneath the headline: ‘NEWSIES STOP THE WORLD’.

In your slight state of shock, you glossed over the story and mentally took note to personally thank Katherine later on.

You actually made it into the papes.

“You’s know what this means?” You queried, your smile transforming into a bright grin as you grabbed hold on Race’s hands, tucking the paper under your arm.

“We’re famous.” He finished for you, his grin matching yours.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Newsies of New York City.” Jack addressed from the top of Newsies Square, Joseph Pulitzer at one side and governor Theodore Roosevelt at the other. It was nice to see him back where he truly belonged, the so-called ‘King of Manhattan’. You could feel your heart beating painfully in your ears as you awaited the news, the anticipation making every second feel longer then what it actually was. Race’s hand was tight in your grasp as you sucked in a final breath, “We won!”

The chorus of cheers that sounded was deafening. It was finally over. After two ruthless and unforgiving weeks of striking, and everything had finally come to a close.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realise you were holding and turned towards Race. Race grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, laughing and chorusing while you were grinning ear to ear yet entirely speechless.

When he pulled away, you were slightly disappointed with the loss of contact, but when his arms around your body were replaced by his lips against yours, the world melted away. Slow and soft yet fiery and passionate the same time, as unpredictable as Race himself. His hand moved to cup your jaw and draw you closer, your arms finding their way to wrap around his neck.

When you pulled apart, there was stars in both of your eyes.

“I love you (Y/N).”

“I love you too Racetrack.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You sighed lightly at the fond memories, feeling incredibly grateful for all that had happened in order to bring you to where you were.

“We’s really made it huh?”

Race briefly chuckled into your shoulder, before raising his head and placing another long kiss against your neck, “We’s really made it.”

#newsies x reader #racetrack higgins x reader #race x reader #newsies race x reader #newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #jack kelly x reader #davey jacobs x reader #x reader #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #writers on tumblr

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draconida · 5 years

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Shance Fic Recs

Well, while I was in my AO3 profile, I realized how many bookmarks I have! So I've decided to make fic recommendation lists. [This list will have other parts, and I include fics with Kuro and Sven]

1- Black to Blue by PuppetMaster55

Lance, the undisputed (no longer, since he finally got the team to stop questioning his position like a month ago) leader of Voltron finds himself in the absolute strangest scenario: being the Blue Paladin.

Lance, still finding his place on team Voltron, wakes up to the weirdest world: one where he's the Black Paladin.

OR, I take a universe where Lance was always the Black Paladin and have him swap bodies with canon Lance, throwing both sets of teams for a trip.

[This fic is the beginning of a series in process, super recommended]

2- Black & Blue by starboyshiro (this author writes a lot of love to Shiro)

“Something wrong, babe? Did you have a bad day or something?” Shiro asks, plopping down on the couch next to Lance.

“Nothing happened, I'm just looking at all of these cute cats thinking about how much I want one, but can't have one.” Lance frowns, resting his head on Shiro's shoulder as he continues to scroll through Instagram.

Shiro can't stand to see his boyfriend upset. That's been a proven fact since Day One of their relationship. It's only natural that when Lance mentions his disappointment at never owning a cat, Shiro goes above and beyond to cheer him up…

3- I Fold by starboyshiro [Explicit]

“Do you even know who I am?”

“Am I supposed to?”

“Most people around here do.”

An intense poker game turns into a rather steamy night. Can this scrawny grad student handle the force of the famous journalist Takashi Shirogane?

4- Is That A Bowl Of Popcorn In Your Lap Or Are You Just Happy To See Me? by munchiesafterdark [Explicit]

“How many bags should I do?” Shiro called, waving the four unopened packs in his hand at Lance questioningly.

“I think two should be fine,” Lance shrugged. “We can always pop more if… we…” He trailed off, train of thought vacating the station as Shiro turned his back to him to put the remaining packs of popcorn into the cabinets. His hips swayed to an unheard rhythm, defined muscles flexing as he reached up and slid the popcorn into place on the top shelf. Lance’s eyes trailed down to the V of his back, the sweats hanging low enough for him to spot the curve of his round ass. Yet another anomaly of those pants was the manner in which they accentuated his bottom while still remaining baggy around his legs.

The obnoxious ding of the microwave nearly startled Lance out of his skin. His shift on the couch must have been audible, Shiro raised a brow at him over his shoulder, a cocky smirk crossing his lips as he leaned over to retrieve the finished bag of popcorn.

Fuck, he was toying with him! Well, two could play that game!

5- Nasty Smoothie by strawberrylovely

Lance works in a smoothie shop. Twice a week, a certain customer comes in and orders a nasty smoothie. Lance is head over heels.

6- A Hit and A Miss (tletoe) by strawberrylovely

Basically, Lance goes to a party with Hunk and blows his friend a kiss. However, he wasn’t expecting the cute stranger standing in front of Hunk to think the kiss was for him.

7- you should let me (love you) by godsensei

There’s something in the bathtub. Suddenly, Lance is pissed at his past self for watching so many horror movies with creepy shower scenes. He’s certainly too young and beautiful to die like this, right?

Right, totally.

He hesitates, but creeps forward, peeking slowly behind the curtain.

Hm. There’s a hot guy in there.

8- just call me daddy by proletaricat [Explicit and omegaverse]

It's the typical a/b/o story - someone's off their suppressants, surprise heats, bam sex! Except this time Lance escapes capture with the help of Hunk and Shiro has to apologize for his behavior later, interrupting Lance in the middle of his Altean telenovela. Then they bang. It's... it's basically just a PWP with daddy kink and knotting.

9- Sometimes Playing Around with the Occult Can Turn Out Well (Like... REALLY well) by gorgawesome [Explicit]

Lance had the best costume prepared for this Halloween Party. He was totally gonna slay and finally get laid for the first time in MONTHS!

Except it's Halloween Night and he's stuck looking after the family bookstore, because local robberies or something. Honestly? He was too busy pouting to be listening.

Can an awful, boring night turn for the better? Yes. Yes, it can.

10- I found religion between your thighs by KillTheDirector [in process]

He had been topside for over four decades, enjoying the freedom he never had down in the pit. Routines were established then broken then reestablished, but Shiro abided by them because that’s what kept him alive.

Then he met a witch that was more suited to being an incubus than him.

11- One Symbol Off by Silas_Writes [Explicit]

anonymous whispered: Incubus/succubus shiro and witch lance use summoning circles and potions inappropriately

12- To Seduce the Seducer by singtolife [Explicit]

At a college party, Shiro meets Lance, and they hit it off immediately. Only to find out after they have sex that this amazingly sexy guy was a little too good to be true.

13- Blue Skies in Stockholm by Shanced [Explicit, non-con and Kuro]

Lance gets captured by Shiro (who was fused with Kuro by Haggar) and the rest is self indulgent kinky sex. Lance gets raped and wrecked by Shiro and develops Stockholm syndrome, or the likes of it, Shiro can apparently unfuse with Kuro and they have a really good time.

14- Treadmill by kitausu

At 2 minutes of torture in, Lance heard the buzz/click noise of someone’s electronic key activating and opening the door to the gym. And of course, because this was Lance’s life, Hunk had pushed him onto a treadmill with a mirror right in front, affording him an absolutely stunning view of the man walking through the door.

Had Lance loved till now? He was pretty sure that he had never even felt an emotion before seeing the beautiful male specimen reflected beside his face in the mirror.

or, Lance waxes poetic about Shiro's everything, and Hunk set it all up in the first place.

15- Black & Blue & Red All Over by thesynapticsnap

When Lance shows up to the gym with a limp and covered in bruises, Shiro assumes the worst (spoiler: It’s nothing bad! Nor anything kinky, surprisingly).

16- Car Door Blues by ShiekahKami

Shiro never would have expected that accidentally knocking that cute guy out could change his life for the better.

17- Give It a Shance by YonaDawn [in process]

The domestic life of Shance. At least until they become Twitter and Youtube famous. Then it's a wild domestic life.

18- Bowling for Balls? by EllaAniMine

They were just supposed to be bowling... It was harmless fun, or it was supposed to be.

Lance thought he was being funny, but a message that was supposed to be a joke was sent, and now Lance isn't laughing.

19- llévame si quieres by kalakauuas

Shiro takes his dogs to the park and meets the world’s cutest uncle and his niece.

"Lance and his little niece, petting Shiro’s dog, looking soft and serene; it’s like nothing could ever be truly wrong in the world if this is able to happen. What Shiro wouldn’t give to have this sight in front of him over and over again. He scratches Sirius behind the ears, and gets a reassuring lick in return as an act of solidarity. You’ve got this. Man’s best friend, for real."

20- (Mg,Fe2+)2(Mg,Fe2+)5Si8O22(OH)2 by starboyshiro

Lance and Shiro decided to expand their little family and adopt a dog. What they name him is rather questionable.

21- You're Worth More by AbandonedLibrary

Lance wanted to prove his pod his worth after that jackass rolo came in with black pearls in hand.

As the pearl expert in the group he needed to keep his name sake.

Though... Lance learned there are things worth more than pretty pearls.

22- Curiosity Caught a Cat by c0cunt

Shiro has been distancing himself from his friends and family for a long time. All he really has now is Matt's cat, Zekrom. At least, until a man crashes into his balcony to pet his cat.

23- Head Over Heels by saecchii [Kemonomimi and Explicit]

Shiro gains a new roommate, who he is absolutely smitten with.

24- Stray Cats by kitausu

Lance is really enamored with the cute guy who keeps coming into his pet store and buying WAY too much cat food.

or, Shiro moves into a new apartment and sees how many strays there are in the parking lot and just HAS to feed them.

25- Kiss the Bees by kitausu

Lance is smitten with the beekeeper next door.

26- BlueVoice by kitausu [Explicit]

Lance runs a relatively popular voice RP blog and one day hears his own voice coming out of the headphones of the really hot guy next to him at the gym.

27- Change of Plans by kitausu

When Shiro is left at the alter, he decides to go on his honeymoon alone. Enter Lance, the man Shiro had hired to take him and his would-be bride on a month long tour of Europe.

28- To The Grooms by AChapterCanBeABook

There is no better way to celebrate the best day of your life than reminiscing with the people who you love the most and who have been with you through nearly every step in your life. Let's not forget a little bit of embarrassment which goes along with best men speeches, especially if your best man is your brother and the other best man is his accomplice in this whole thing. nevertheless, it doesn't fail in livening up a wedding as well as making in just that much more sentimental.

29- Tell the Truth by thesynapticsnap

Lance is bitten by a 'love bug', turning him into a blushing, stammering mess around his crush- Shiro. Shiro helps him deal with the negative side effects, learning more about Lance's crush and considering his own feelings as they talk.

30- Guess Again by thesynapticsnap

Keith confronts Lance about something he witnessed during a team mind-melding exercise…too bad he’s got the wrong culprit.

31- Smooth by thesynapticsnap

Lance’s first meeting with Shiro doesn’t go as planned – it turns out so much better than he expected.

32- Blind Date by kitausu

“What’s the crisis? I thought you had a blind date? Didn’t go well?”

Lance wailed, collapsing into the couch with a dramatic sigh.

“Yesss, Hunk. He’s too handsome. He’s just so hot. You would not believe what he did to me. I still can’t believe it.”

or, Lance goes on a blind date and can't handle how hot Shiro is.

33- SandMan by Might_suck_but_thats_ok

Shiro goes on a blind date with Lance.

34- Lucky by zombiegardener

Shiro accidentally tells Keith that he's dating one of his frenemies from high school over a Saturday morning phone call, because how is this his life?

35- Boundaries by zombiegardener

It's really hard to keep a relationship secret when you're making out in the middle of a hallway.

36- beauty queen on the silver screen (living life like i'm in a dream) by heavenlyrare

What do you give to someone who already holds the world in their palms?

The sweaters Shiro’s mom knits him every Christmas actually serves a greater purpose for once.

37- Text Me by strawberrylovely

Shiro, trying to get away from two girls who won't stop flirting with him, sits down next to a stranger who he pretends is his boyfriend. The stranger, who has pretty blue eyes, goes along with it.

38- Undateable by strawberrylovely

Lance just wishes someone would date him. Shiro offers to do just that.

39- Black Friday by strawberrylovely

Lance is gonna get that stand mixer. Unless of course a handsome stranger gets to it first.

40- Midnight Tradition by strawberrylovely

Lance goes to a New Years party and meets a guy named Shiro. They may be strangers, but they kiss at midnight anyway. After the party, Lance doesn’t think he’ll ever see Shiro again. That is until the next New Years party when the two meet again and a tradition starts.

Parts 1 / 2 / 3

#vld #voltron #shance #fic rec #lance mcclain #takashi shirogane #shiro/lance #vld kuron #vld kuro

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