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nolita-fairytale · 10 months

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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter four

summary: you and luca go to the ballet, bringing up a very important question: is this, and could it be, a date?

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this chapter is all about things left unsaid, the pining TM and yearning TM. shoutout to @arctvrvs who recommended onegin, as the ballet they go to see. thank you again for all the shares, reblogs, comments! let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part three | masterlist | part five

You: I have your book. Devoured it over the weekend.

Luca: Glad you liked it.

You did like it?

You: No, I clearly hate-read it one weekend.

I’m kidding.

Of course I liked it!

Luca: You’re hilarious 🙄

You: I can return it to you later today.

If you have a free minute.

Luca: For you? Always.

Come by the restaurant?

You: Done. See you later.

Text exchanges like this have become more and more regular between you and Luca and it makes you question why you’d ever been so hesitant to tell him about your ex husband in the first place. You know part of the answer: you’d been afraid – afraid of what he’d say, afraid it’d be too much for him, afraid it’d scare him away – and yet, your admission seems to have only brought you closer.

Which is a fact that makes you feel incredibly seen and also scares the shit out of you.

But, with Luca’s copy of A Work In Progress: A Journal tucked underneath your arm, you decide you’ll conquer one mountain at a time as you come in through the doors of the closed restaurant.

“Oi!” one of Luca’s pastry chefs, a burlier man with deep brown eyes and a beard that only facial hair enthusiasts could dream of hollers, in an attempt to grab Luca’s attention when you enter the pastry room. The man follows up his exclamation with something muttered in Danish – something that almost sounds like a cat call directed towards the head pastry chef.

Hey, loverboy. Come get your girlfriend.

You and Luca lock eyes from across the room, and you watch as his face simultaneously lights up as he sees you, while glowering in his coworkers direction. Luca shouts a ‘shut it, mate’ in return before approaching you,

“Did he just-?” you ask him, with a small laugh.

“Call you my girlfriend? Yes,” Luca admits, a blush running across his cheeks as he looks down, embarrassedly.

Brown-eyed-bearded-burly-chef exchanges glances with another chef, focused on weighing dough on a food scale, before asking you with an intrigued hint in his voice:

“You speak Danish?”

“Barely,” you answer, an apologetic half smile on your face.

He exchanges a knowing look with the other pastry chef in response, then snickers, because he really is only trying to be a good wingman here.

“I don’t know what the hold up is… but I see it,” he says in English this time, his Danish accent thick as he wags his finger towards the both of you, earning another glare from Luca.

“Okay, let’s step outside,” Luca hurries, ushering you out of the kitchen and into the empty dining room with a hand on your upper back.

Your laugh echoes in the barren dining room, since pastry prep starts so damn early in the morning, and the physical restaurant doesn’t open for service till evening.

“Again, I’m terribly sorry about him,” Luca apologizes, a little more flustered than you expected him to be.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassure him with a warm smile. “If anything, you at least now know you’ve got a great wingman when you need one.”

You watch a brief flash of, well you’re not sure what, flash across Luca’s face as he wonders if that’s what you’re hoping for. Instead of overthinking it, wondering why you’d want his coworker to act as his wingman in the first place, he pushes it to the back of his mind, moving forward with what he’d planned on bringing up with you anyways.

“Your book, sir,” you say, handing Luca his copy of the book.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he grins.

“Yeah, thanks for lending it to me. Took me a few weekends to carve out the time but… once I started, I couldn’t put it down,” you inform him, gushing over the borrowed book.

“I have something for you,” Luca states, as he pulls out a white envelope from one of his apron pockets. “In return.”

“Awww. Don’t tell me you went through all this trouble to get me a bookmark and when I’ve already finished it,” you banter with him, playfully.

“They’re not bookmarks,” he smirks, as he looks at you with those electrifyingly blue eyes.

“Ah, tell me more,” you encourage him, curiously.

“They’re tickets,” he answers, handing you the envelope.

“Oh.”

Before you can wonder whether Luca went out of his way to purchase you tickets to the ballet, he continues with his explanation.

“Yeah we’ve got this regular diner. Always entertaining, bringing in investors, board members, the likes... Turns out he’s the Artistic Director of The Royal Danish Ballet. Hooks us up with tickets all the time,” Luca says.

“Couldn’t make it opening night so but what do you say… to a performance of Onegin Thursday night?” he continues. “That is if you can – if you want – to take the night off.”

“With you?” you ask, a glimmer of hope in your eyes.

“Yeah, if you’d like,” Luca answers. “Figured I owed you after you purchased the Jazz Fest tickets.” Taking a more playful approach, almost as if he’s testing you as he adds: “Unless there’s something other bloke you wanna take instead of-.”

“No!” you protest, quick to correct him. “I mean, yes. I want to go. With you. Let me see what I can do scheduling wise.”

Was this a date? You wonder to yourself.

For whatever reason, this proposal feels much more like a date than anything else you’ve done with him so far. Bike rides to bakeries, walks through the park, even asking Luca to join you for Jazz Fest with tickets you purchased almost a year ago, still haven't felt this monumental.

But a night at the ballet?

A night of getting dressed up and taking off work to spend time with each other?

This feels much more like a date.

And you might even be excited about the prospect of having one with him, with Luca specifically, something you haven’t felt for anyone in a long time.

“Just let me know,” Luca says, coolly, followed by his oh-so-charming-crooked smile.

By the time you take this… proposition – taking off a night at the restaurant for a maybe-a-date-with-Luca – Mathilde and Jesper are practically pushing you out of the restaurant swearing that if you don’t go, they’ll write you out of the business partnership, and that Mathilde is more than happy to run the kitchen all by herself that night.

While you appreciate the support, it feels like it add pressure – expectations, really – to Thursday night.

You push the thought from your head, choosing to charge forward despite your nerves, before sending Luca your official yes via text message.

So… what does one wear to the ballet?

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You settle on a silky white slip dress with thin straps, a sweetheart neckline, and a slit in the skirt that travels up the leg in a way that’s revealing yet still appropriate. You’ve draped a blazer across your shoulders because you can’t be bothered to properly put it on during the warmest month of the year but you know you’ll want it when you’re inside of the Opera House. You slip on a black kitten heel to match your bag, then pull your hair back into a loose ponytail, allowing the stray pieces of hair that fall out of it to frame your face.

It’s not until Luca shows up at your flat with a text that he’s here, do you make your way outside. Your head is buried in your bag, taking a last minute inventory, ensuring you have what you need for the night: phone, keys, ID, extra lip gloss…

“Hi,” he says on an exhale, as soon as he sees you.

There’s something in his voice that sounds different, you note, as you lift your head to look at him.

Holy. Shit…

Fuck me, you think to yourself, as soon as you see him. He’s dressed in black slacks with a blazer to match, layered over a white button down worn without a tie, and pristine white trainers that you can’t help but notice.

It’s classic – classy – with a little bit of swag from the trainers that feels… pleasantly unexpected. You look like one of those hip couples that decided to stick it to tradition and get married at the courthouse with a dope photoshoot instead.

“Hi,” is all that comes out of your mouth, your eyes wide as the two of you stare each other down.

Yeah, this really feels like a date now.

“Hi,” he says in return before exhaling. “You look great.”

He’s grinning from ear to ear now, and the man cannot take his eyes off of you.

“I-,” you start, as you gather your words, reminding yourself that you do in fact know the English language. As your words come back to you, you take a more playful approach instead, making up for lost wit as you say:

“You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Luca smirks, a twinkle in his eye that tells you he’s pretty damn enchanted by you right now. The two of you share a look – one that feels very not-friendly, emphasizing just how much more date-like this seems to be.

“Shall we?” he asks you, offering out his arm for you to take.

“Let’s,” you answer, taking it as he escorts you to the metro.

You and Luca look wildly out of place while waiting for the metro, then on the metro as you make your way to the Royal Danish Opera House in your dressier-than-normal apparel. You share small talk while you wait on the platform, ramblings over your day and then his while finding a place to sit, then nervous giggles and flirtatious stolen glances while seated next to each other on your journey.

It’s nice to be reminded that you haven’t entirely forgotten how to flirt.

From its shoreside location to its sparkling interior, the Royal Danish Opera House is awe inspiring. You take it all in as you and Luca settle into your seats and a comfortable quiet intimacy as you look over your programs, just before the show begins.

Onegin, you come to find as the show begins, is a story of unrequited love, missed changes, and ‘too little, too late.’ Its relevance is not lost on you as you watch as the young country girl falls in love with the worldly Count. She is young, naive, a hopeless romantic, perhaps the character you would’ve related to when you were younger – before your marriage ended. A younger version of you might laugh at the fact that you somehow find yourself relating more to the Count. He’s cold, jaded, a pessimist even, only to be rejected when he realizes he missed his chance at love so many years ago.

You steal a glance in Luca’s direction, his eyes fixed to the tragedy that plays out on the stage in front of you.

He really is stunning, you think to yourself, as you carefully examine the near-perfect symmetry of his face, before returning your focus back to the performance.

To say that you haven’t noticed the way Luca looks at you would be a lie. And you can’t help but notice how eager you’ve been lately to find any excuse to spend extra time with him too.

But you can’t help wondering about just how ready you are – how and when you might know when you’ll be ready:

Ready to date. Ready to open yourself up to someone. Ready to fall in love again.

Would you know when it was time? And was this a sign – meeting Luca – that it’s time for a new beginning now?

But what if it weren’t? What if you weren’t ready now? Then what?

It’s not like you’d expect for Luca to wait for you or anything, but the idea of a new beginning, of falling in love again, of possibly getting your heart broken again instills the kind of terror in you that shakes you to your very core.

But what if this was your only chance?

You can’t imagine Luca would be single for much longer – the fact that he even is now completely perplexes you – and you’re sure that he has an entire roster of women lining up, ready to take your place. Not that you feel like it’s your place now, though you’re not sure where he’d have the time to entertain an entire roster of women with how much time you’ve been spending together lately.

You push the thoughts from your mind, trying your best to focus on the dancers, even though it’s the thing that’s got you pensive in the first place.

And it’s almost as if, right on cue, the minute you turn your attention away from Luca, his eyes are on you, admiring the way that you marvel at the story unfolding in front of you.

Luca smiles to himself, in pure disbelief that the same woman who brought him much needed inspiration could also be the same woman he’s begun to have feelings for. He finds you extraordinary: you’re funny, you’re incredibly talented, and you make his heart skip a beat every single time you walk into a room. He doesn’t know which deities to thank for meeting you, but he’s sure he must’ve done something right in a past life for it to bring you to him in this one.

He’s glad you told him – about your ex husband, about the divorce – and while it’s filled in some blanks for him, it’s also brought up more questions. Questions like:

Were you even interested in dating? Were you ready to start dating because he couldn’t blame you if you weren’t? And if you were, would you be interested in dating him?

These last few months of getting to know each other have been wonderful – and he’s thoroughly enjoyed getting to know you as friends – but Luca wants more. He wants to hold your hand while walking along the Nyhavn waterfront. He wants to press a kiss to your lips when you stop by the restaurant as he’s getting off shift, before heading into your own. He wants to wrap you up in his arms, curl his body around yours as you settle in with him on your shared couch after a long night at the restaurant, going on about your new special, or your recently hired line-cook-in-training.

Luca wants to call you his, and he wants nothing more than for you to call him yours. He yearns for the quiet domesticity he thinks he could have with you – one he knows he could have with you.

He doesn’t want to miss his chance. It’s why he asked you that question when you told him about your ex husband – are you still in love with him? – because Luca can’t bear the thought of falling in love with a woman already in love with another man.

He replays the answer in his head – no, I’m not in love with him – almost as if he’s reassuring himself.

Luca knows what he needs to do. He just needs to talk to you and tonight feels like as good of a time as any to do so, considering you’re practically on a date. Luca makes up his mind about it – that he’ll bring it up after the performance, maybe even ask you on a proper date.

As the performance ends, the two of you applaud with the rest of the theatre before exiting the performance space. You and Luca linger outside of the theatre, watching the other patrons walk by, arrange rides for themselves, head out for a night cap. He’s working up the nerve to bring up the conversation, watching your lips carefully as you go on about the performance, a brilliance in your eyes that he notices you get whenever you talk about something you’re passionate about.

You’re in the middle of dissecting the end of Act Two as he Luca abruptly blurts out:

“You hungry?”

You pause as your mouth hangs agape, noticing that’s something different, that’s something’s shifted between the two of you.

“Uh… no. Don’t you have to be up early tomorrow?” you ask back, hesitantly.

“Ehm. Yes, I do. But eh, I don’t know. I’d ehm, I’d be up for a bite. If you are,” Luca manages to explain because he’s not ready for the night to end.

You can feel it – the tension between the two of you hangs thickly in the air – and you know this isn’t just a ‘let’s go out for a bite’ kind of ask.

You wondered how you’d feel when this moment came, and instead of being ecstatic, instead of wanting to jump at the chance, the panic sets in, filling your belly with the urge to jump into harbour instead.

You wish you felt differently – you want to feel differently – but you don’t.

So instead, you stammer out a:

“I think I’m just ready to head home, but you should go. If you want to. I think I’m just going to walk home or-.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll take you home,” Luca offers.

You hesitate before agreeing, “Uh… yeah. Okay. As long as you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Luca says as he places a gentle hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you in the direction of home. “I’d rather know you got home safe.”

You nod, instantly filled with guilt as Luca’s demeanor changes, his facial expression moving from somewhat-confused-and-disappointed to one of concern, kindness, and genuine care.

What the hell is wrong with you? You think to yourself.

But you know you can’t push it – you can’t push yourself to be ready, to open up – regardless of how perfect Luca is.

As Luca walks you home, there’s a palpable shift in the dynamic between the two of you. He seems cautious, almost as if he’s tiptoeing around you, uncertain about where the two of you stand. And truthfully, he is uncertain. He’s worried that he scared you off, if he came on too strong, if his ask changes something between the two of you. Luca realizes tonight is perhaps not the night, but he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to wait – be able to keep the way he feels about you to himself.

“Thank you… for walking me home,” you say, as you arrive at the door to your apartment building.

“‘S no problem. Had to get you back to your flat safely,” Luca reassures you with a smile on his face.

You stand across from him, mere inches away. You could do it – close the gap between the two of you because you really do feel like an asshole for earlier – but it feels like something’s stopping you. You wait too long, letting your impulse move too thoroughly through your body, until it’s too late and the impulse is gone.

You’re at an impasse: Luca opens his mouth to say something before pausing and you’re not sure what to say either, the two of you standing across from one another, frozen in a moment in time.

Instead of speaking, he simply steps forward, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace as he inhales.

It feels too good.

This feels too good: the way he smells, the way it feels to be pressed up against him, his hands running smooth patterns across your back.

“Luca,” you begin as you pull away from the hug, your eyes locked with his.

He waits, but as you open your mouth to say something else, nothing comes out.

You’re not sure if it’s a look of disappointment, regret, or something else that flashes across his face, before he gives you a half smile. Luca takes a few steps backwards, almost as if he needs to create space between you and him, his voice a low deep rumble as he says:

“Goodnight, love.”

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a/n: and now we're getting somewhere. i PROMISE we are getting somewhere. just wait ;)

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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st-danger · 9 months

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Saint how about some hot nasty making out? Just absolutely starving for one another, unable to stop touching, so, so into it. Stoned ghouls, perhaps?

Idk but I want them to drown in each other.

Please <3

The golden hour is particularly nice in Swiss's room, a west-facing window letting the day's sun's dying breaths stream though. It illuminates the haze of the joint, already smoked but lingering. On his bed, Swiss pulls Rain into his lap and twists his finger in one of Rain's curls, toying.

"Hey," Swiss says, meeting Rain's stoned, ever so slightly stupid smile. Red eyes crinkling in the corner; he imagines they match in that regard. He places a hand on Rain's hip, and slowly sneaks his fingers underneath his shirt, drawing a ticklish line over the top of Rain's pants.

"Hi," Rain says back, and then ducks down to rub his nose against Swiss's, and then to brush his lips the barest, most unsatisfying amount. Smoke on his breath. Lips moving against his when he speaks, "wanna give me your tongue?"

It starts slow, because if Swiss is being honest, he's never been able to match Rain when it comes to imbibing in weed. He's gone, he knows. His limbs feel heavy and his body is buzzing. Tingling from it, moving underwater. There was no need to have smoked so much, not really, except Rain loves getting so high he drifts, and Swiss loves when Rain is useless and touchy and pliable.

A gentle press of their lips together at first. Massaging. Swiss holds Rain's face in both of his hands, brushes his thumbs against his cheeks, and Rain settles heavier into his lap, letting the tension leave his thighs where they bracket Swiss, and letting his full weight rest against his lap. Swiss feels him plucking at his shirt, and then feels the tip of his tongue dart out to lick his plush lower lip. Sighing pleasurably, he threads a hand through Rain's curls, over his scalp, pulling his head down closer.

It's so easy to open for him, to keep the kiss light and teasing and let Rain feel languid strokes of their tongues not even in one another's mouths. Licking at each other without coming together entirely. If they could watch, Swiss would see the thread of spit glinting in the sunlight, connecting them when Rain pulls back to grin, hands sliding over Swiss's chest, rubbing his pecs with clumsy hands.

"You taste like weed," he murmurs. "Degenerate."

"Promise you won't tell anyone," Swiss grins, and then he's pulling Rain back to him, pulling his face near and this time there's nothing teasing about it.

Swiss can't hold back the groan when they meet, because Rain's enthusiasm has his hips canting forward as he licks greedily into his mouth, all preamble gone. Kaput. It catches him off guard, how deeply Rain is kissing so soon. Not that he could ever complain, but-

"Rain, baby-" he says in the space between kisses, "really need it, huh? That it?"

Rain nips at Swiss’s bottom lip, sharper than he probably means to but too high to properly judge. It's a shock of pain that triggers something inside him, hands roving, one getting a good fistful of curls, the other sliding to his pale throat, not choking- not yet, though he's sure some of that will come later, restricting just before he forces Rain to cum- but holding. A reminder of his strength. A reminder how easy it is for Swiss to control. He loses track of how long it goes on. Drifting. Drowning. Farther and farther away.

Rain moans, fists his hands in Swiss's shirt, pulling. Stretching it out, he's sure- at least it's a cheap undershirt. He can live with that, if it's all wonky later.

They're very high now; it shows in the uncoordination, the amount of spit. Messy. Sloppy, even. Rain kisses him like he needs to burrow under his very skin, and it has taken no time at all for him to go wriggly, squirming on Swiss's lap, worrying the cotton of his shirt progressively rougher, only to release it so he can rub over his chest again, smoothing his fingertips around until he feels his nipples and gives them a tweak between his thumb and forefinger. Swiss doesn't intend to, but the jolt it sends through him has his hands tightening on Rain. A harder grip in his hair, curling firmly around his slender neck.

"Uh huh," Rain moans, plucking at Swiss to get them hard enough to poke through the white fabric. "Harder- choke me a little."

As usual, Rain gets whatever he wants, because Swiss is powerless to deny him anything.

He grabs his hair in a tight fist and slides his hand to curl around his throat, wrenching his head forward so he can drag the point of his nose against the sharp line of his jaw, to his ear, squeezing his hand at the same time he licks the lobe, sucks it, fangs scraping when he pulls back. Rain squeaks, and mindlessly pinches Swiss, harder than he would like were he sober. He hisses, and licks Rain's face, a wet slide up his cheek.

"That do it for you? Yeah?" Swiss says into his ear, the sensation of his hot breath drawing a full body shudder from Rain, who cannot for the life of him stay still.

"Harder," Rain says.

Again, Swiss indulges him.

He chokes him in earnest now, and the sound it pulls from Rain is- it's a lot. It's a noise that Swiss will never tire of hearing, and one that he thinks of when Rain isn't close by and he only has his hand, and he needs a little push to send himself over the edge.

Swiss thinks it a bit unfair that the joint makes him more sensitive, but his dick slower to respond. For as good as it all feels, it takes longer for his body to get with the program. Rain doesn't have this problem. He's stuck firmly on the opposite side of the spectrum. He's grinding against Swiss, and the knowledge of how stiff and pink it is under the sweatpants, tenting them, pressing it into Swiss’s belly- frankly, it's intolerable. Rain can't help it. Swiss is aware of how his nerves sing when he's stoned.

He eases off, gives Rain a moment to suck down some oxygen, and forces their mouths together once again, shoving his tongue roughly into Rain's mouth at the same time he chokes Rain for real, tight and cruel, desperate to steal the air from him. He needs. Needs- everything. Needs to suck on Rain's tongue, kiss him and choke him and make it so the only thing Rain can process, can know, is him.

He holds until Rain taps at his chest, and then releases, letting both his hair and neck go. Rain pulls away, chest heaving this time, face as red as his eyes, which are heavy lidded, barely focused. His lips are kiss-bruised, fuller from the bites Swiss bestowed upon them.

He can't help himself; with his hands unoccupied, he gropes Rain's hard on, and echoes Rain's moan, feeling it throb in his palm. Rain curls into himself, hands still flexing against his broad chest.

"Sweetheart," Swiss says, "this it? Want it?" He punctuates by working him more insistently, dimly surprised by how hot it feels through the material.

"Your mouth," Rain whimpers.

"Want me to kiss you there, too?"

Rain nods. Dazed. Stupid. Pliable.

"Gimme your tongue," he says for the second time.

Inside, Swiss and Rain adjust so Rain can lay back and lose himself, cum too quickly into Swiss’s mouth, who will hold it in and feed it back to him, drool it into Rain's waiting mouth. Outside, it grows dark.

#st-speaks #ghost #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost fanfiction #ghost headcanons #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss/rain #swiss x rain #rulti

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bigfan-fanfic · 1 year

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A Captive Bat (Batdad!Reader x Bruce Wayne)

Requested by @capturingthecountryside for Batman practicing escapism when his husband starts to play with him.

When you wake up, you realize with a bit of confusion that you're in the library.

Usually Bruce will finish with his activities down in the cave and move upward to collect you so you both can go to bed together.

So instead you figure he lost track of time.

When you deftly press the piano key passphrase that slides aside the grandfather clock, and step into the industrial elevator, the grinding of machinery is almost too loud to really hear anything over - it's only once you're at the bottom of the elevator shaft that you can hear the soft grunting.

It almost sounds like - no, that couldn't be possible.

Another moan sounds out, and you approach to find your frustrated young husband struggling.

He's removed the Batsuit, and is clad only in the compression gear he wears under it - black tights that leave very little to the imagination, and a thin black tank top that you can practically see his abs through. He wears a pair of dark combat boots as well, but what really strikes you is that he is quite heavily restrained.

It's clear that he hasn't lost track of time, but instead just overestimated his own talent for escapism.

Thick, rigid handcuffs are placed on each of his wrists, almost painfully stretching his back into a bend over the back of the chair, his arms pulled back and locked in place.

White cord holds his ankles in place, drawn up and tied to his thighs, lifted on either side of him, shackled to the crossbars between the legs of the chair as a secondary restraint. His thighs are helplessly spread by rope, his torso heaving as he struggles, ropes holding him as close as possible to the chair with his back bent so far. He's dripping sweat, hair damp as he struggles.

However, he's made little progress. He's gotten one wrist free, and is in the process of picking the padlock on the matching ankle (though the ropes holding his arms in place impair his movement), when he notices you.

He shoots you an exhausted smirk. "Hey there. Sorry I couldn't tell you about the delay. As you can see, I'm a little... tied up."

You simply pluck the key out of his hand, and he gives a little whine.

"Honestly, I'm disappointed in you, Bruce. You don't even have safety scissors to get out! Haven't you learned anything from me about self-bondage?"

He rolls his eyes. "This isn't me trying to get off, my darling, I'm training. Falcone's thugs aren't gonna leave safety scissors out for me if I lose circulation!"

You roll your eyes right back. "Sure, big guy. And they're going to ignore your boner too."

Bruce blushes. "Oh, that's... a newer development. I didn't expect to get... caught."

"Is that so?" You straddle him, listening to his groan with satisfaction as your weight causes him to feel even more restricted.

You lean forward, your chest touching his, as you undo some of the ropes holding him, and you ease him back so his spine is returned to a relaxed position, before you quickly tie his arms back in place, this time not apart, but a far more simple position, using both sets of handcuffs to hold his wrists together, and the ropes to draw them slightly up so he can't move without straining his upper arms or shoulders.

"I think you wanted me to find you like this, Bruce. You like it so much when I take control."

Bruce's eyes flutter closed, moaning as he throws his head back, but the combination of his own bondage and your revisions ensure he can't move an inch.

"The problem here is that you assume you CAN get out of a situation. Escapism demands preparation, and if you're stripped like this, you're not going to have a skeleton key on you." You wink and dangle the key in front of Bruce before setting it in a drawer of the Batcomputer's console. You stride across the room to grab a scalpel from the medbay before slicing the tank top off your husband's body. He raises an eyebrow.

"Just checking you don't have anything else on you."

He smirks. "Oh, sure."

Your eyes linger on the sweaty muscles of Bruce's torso. "You're MY prisoner now."

He shifts a little, flexing. "I still think I could get out."

You grin. "Then you may try. But if you fail, if you give up... then I decide when you go free. Got it?"

He blinks several times before grinning wildly. "Deal."

You quickly grab a leather strap with a rubber ball placed in the center, and place the ball gag in your husband's mouth, savoring the way that Bruce's crystal blue eyes darken, before you tie a silken blindfold over them.

He moans into the gag as your hands run down his chest.

It's sweet that he still thinks he can get out. But your lesson to him tonight is different - sometimes, when he is captured, he may not even WANT to escape.

Especially when his loving captor has such devious fun in mind for him...

#male reader #batdad reader #bruce wayne x male reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman x male reader #batman x reader #batman headcanons #headcanons

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blueroan-equestrian · 1 year

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Yawne pt 2

Part 1

@Isazelhmann

Aonung walked into our home with his catch of the day and some fruit.

I gasped excitedly, “Aonung! You brought home fruit! Where did you find these?”

He smiled as sauntered over for a kiss, “it was a bit away but I know you love these. Thought I would surprise you. Will help me with the fish? I got enough for the family dinner. I’m going to stowaway the fruit though.”

“Of course, thank you for providing for me.” I hummed.

He leaned in for another kiss, “of course Yawne. How was your day? Did mom teach you anything new?”

I chuckled, “Yeah… today was just a diving to Eywa and listening for her… she helped me stay under the water longer than I thought I could… you know I still have a long way to go with my breath work… I don’t get as much practice as my siblings…”

He kissed me stopping my rambling, “I know babe, it’s fine. You are a healer. We need good healers. I hunt for us, I can’t heal anyone. I know I used to worry about it but I wasn’t choosing you back then… I chose you now.”

We got to work on the fish and as we were finishing up, my family arrived. Aonung has been more involved since we reconciled. Sure we started family dinners before but he was only going through the motions. Now he actively participates in the conversation. He was currently telling my father about the best spot to fish during this time of the year and I was completely enamored with him.

He caught me staring and he flashed me a cocky smile, “Enjoying yourself Yawne?”

I smiled back and rested my chin on his shoulder, “Yes I am. I can’t be more proud of you.”

Lo’ak of course made a face and I couldn’t care anyway.

When walking my family out my mom turned to me and says, “I am glad to see you happy. I am glad that he has grown to not only love you but adore you. I was worried at first but he has proven me wrong.”

“Me too mom. He has proven us both wrong. And I am so grateful that he has. Thanks for coming over.”

Mom hugged me tight, “No thank you for the beautiful family night.”

… I watched my family walk back before turning to find Aonung already cleaning up. I smiled watching him taking care of me in a way he didn’t before. Before he did this just to go through the motions and that was a big step for us as before we weren’t even doing that. I remember the first time I started sitting with him during clan dinners, we didn’t even speak. I remember our first family dinner he brought the fish and and vegetation that I asked for and didn’t participate in creating a meal, only spoke when spoken to and never helped clean up. We were sharing a bed and I think it did help with us bonding as we would snuggle even if it was unintentional at times. Then he pulled that stunt and what I thought had killed all progress we had worked for turned out to launch us forward to this. Us really seeing each other.

“Aonung, you spent all day to get ready for this, for me, why don’t you let me clean up. I’m sure you haven’t seen your friends all day. Why don’t you go join them. I’m sure they are still out and about as they always are.”

“I don’t mind Yawne, these nights are important to you.”

“Yes they are but I know that my little brother can really get under your skin. You can go unwind while I clean up. You need your time with your friends as much as I do with my family. Please, go relax.” I cooed placing a hand onto his shoulder.

He stood up handing me what he had in his hand and then kissed me quickly, “Thank you Yawne. See you in a few hours?”

I nodded and kissed him again before he trotted off. I cleaned up quickly enough. I moved onto preparing a bath for myself. It was definitely needed, diving was still a bit of a challenge for me. My muscles had tensed up from the focus it takes to keep myself under water. I love the way water feels but the day made me feel like I stank literally and metaphorically. I sat in our small wooden tub that only I could fit in. Aonung would have to run a wet rag over him and if he wants more of a flowing water he has to stand in the tub and take a basin and pour it over him. I finished up and used his basin to drain the tub enough for me to be able to carry it out and dump it out. I sat in our shared bed falling asleep quickly. I was awoken by Aonung crawling into bed with me. I turned around and snuggled into him.

“Did I wake you, Yawne? I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you… Yawne?” Aonung whispers into the darkness.

“Hmmm?” I hummed.

“I… never mind.” He mumbled.

“No tell me my love.” I coo as I reach for his face.

He covered my hand with his and looked into my eyes through hooded eyes, “we have a tradition of when we are mated to get tattooed… I am not asking for you to do it. I don’t care one way or another. But I was thinking of getting it done… but I don’t want to be alone when I get it… will you come with me?”

“Of course I will come with you.” I hummed. “Why do you want them now?”

“Because I have a wife, whom I love and respect. I want the clan to know just how committed I am to you.”

“But you don’t care if I don’t do the same.” I questioned.

“No, it’s my tradition, it doesn’t mean the same thing for me as does for you. So it’s purpose isn’t really relevant. I want it because that’s it shows that I am proudly married, that is how we show it. I’m sure that you have your own way of showing your marriage status.” He shrugged.

“Not anything quite so obvious as the tattoo.” I sighed. “We used specific feathers… feathers that aren’t from around here…”

“How about some special seashells instead?”

“Yeah… will you pick them out?”

“Yes I would love that.”

…

Aonung sat cross legged in front of me holding my hand as the elderly woman tapped the needle into his shoulder that was being used to tattoo him. “You’re doing great baby.” I cooed.

He gritted his teeth and tried to make it look like he was completely fine. This tattoo was going to be a two, three day if not longer event as it was going to be from his shoulder blade, down his pectoral and down part of his arm. I worried that he would pop a blood vessel with how much he was straining. “Try to relax baby, you got this.” I hummed patting his hand that I was holding.

He squeezed his eyes shut, “I’m trying too.”

“You don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” I reminded him.

“I’m fine, Yawne. Nothing that I can’t handle.” He strained to say.

I checked, “alright Yawne I am with you.”

…

When she finished she turned to me, “so when are we doing yours?”

I glanced at Aonung nervously, and thankfully he responded, “(Y/n) has her own customs, that she will be abiding by. The tattoo isn’t something she will be participating in right now.”

She smiled tightly with a judgmental expression but didn’t dare question the future chief. He dove for the best shells that were small enough to weave into my hair but still colorful. Aonung insisted that he would braid them in but I had to redo it. Of course I let him think he did it all on his own. “Look at my beautiful wife, may all other men know you have been claimed and look on with envy.”

I chuckled, “Aonung being one of the only forest Navi in this tribe, I stick out like a sore thumb and everyone knows that I belong to you anyhow.”

He stepped close to me and pulled me close, “You know I think there’s another way to show off that you are mine.”

“Oh? How?” I chuckled as I played along.

“Let me put a baby in that pretty little pussy of your.”

I chuckled nervously, “Aonung… I have done nothing to stop a pregnancy, I know that I have to produce you an heir.”

He cocked his head to the side rolling his eyes, “Babe, you don’t have to if you don’t want to… but I would like to have one with you if you want one with me too…”

“And if I say I’m not ready?” I asked tentatively.

“Then I would say that maybe we should start taking some precautions until you are ready.”

I looked at him, “and you would be alright with that?”

“Of course I am, it’s your body and if you aren’t ready for it then I don’t want you to feel obligated to change your body in anyway for me. Even for an heir.”

I smiled, “and if I am ready?”

“Then we continue as we have. So my Yawne, what are we doing?”

I bite my lip, “I think… we continue on as we are and let Eywa decide.”

He simply leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine as he led me back to our bed. His lips kissed down my neck, to my chest, to my stomach where he stopped to pay extra affection to before proceeding to my pussy. His breath hit my skin and my breath hitches in anticipation of his tongue flicking out to swirl around my clit. I bucked my hips desperate for more. He pulled back, “baby girl I need you to hold still. I will take care of you baby.” He pressed his lips firmly around my clit as he devoured me. His tongue twisted inside of me and his touch made me see stars. He climbed back up me and whispered, “baby, wanna ride me or do you want me to fuck you senseless?”

“Roll over darling, I wanna ride you.” I moaned as we rolled so that I would be on top. I reached down to take a hold of him to guide him into me. We both let out a sigh of relief as I sank down onto him. His hands found my hips and helped guide me back and forth in a steady rhythm until he seemed to need more. He used his weight to flip us, smiling down at me with a glint in his eye, he placed a hand above my womb and pressed down creating a delicious friction inside of me. “Oh Aonung! Oh Eywa! Harder please!”

He growled and picked up the pace, throwing his head back. “Baby you feel so good.” With a few more thrust, I was cumming and he was shooting his seed, deep inside of me. He rolled off me panting, “Well baby let’s hope it takes.”

I rolled my eyes, “What ever happens, happens.”

Part 3

#aonung x female reader #aonung #aonung x reader #aonung x y/n #aonung smut

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 11 months

Note

Angeeeeee

I'm suffering from terrible cramps at the moment and I just saw your requests are open especially for wlw

can I please have a Skade one where she helps reader with our monthly curse? smut pls I'm begging 🥺

🩶🩶🩶

Bru, my darling, I realise that your monthlies have likely ended by now. But I hope this serves as a comfort the next time Auntie Flo pays you a visit.

Warnings: Time of the month mentions, fingering but not quite, tiddy succin'. Word count: ~1200

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

You groan softly upon waking. The muted sunlight seeping through the canvas of the tent above your head indicates that it’s morning and has been for some time. You clutch at your lower belly with a muffled grunt, silently cursing your body for not allowing you a single waking moment’s peace from the curse of your moon’s blood. It’s your second day of bleeding and though you have tried your best to hide your discomfort from Skade, not wanting to hinder your progress as the two of you travel together, it is becoming more difficult to do so. The dull ache has grown to an insistent nag that plagues your every movement.

You stretch out an arm, surprised when you feel an empty bed roll instead of the warm body you’d expected to be next to you. You sit up slightly, wincing as the heaviness of your lower abdomen protests painfully, and peer through the slither of a gap in the entrance to your shared shelter.

Skade, flaxen hair cascading down her back as she hunches over a small fire, stirs a pot that’s suspended by a tripod of branches.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You call out to her.

She turns to you, before wordlessly moving to fill two wooden cups with the steaming liquid she’s been stirring and ducks into the tent. She hands you one and sits cross legged in front of you.

You sniff at the beverage, wrinkling your nose in distaste at the unappetising earthy scent. “What is this?”

“Nettle tea,” She says simply. “It helps me when I have my moon’s blood.”

You feel your cheeks heat up as she tells you this. She knew. Of course she knew. It was impossible to hide anything from Skade, she was too perceptive.

“I suppose we should start moving again soon, I have wasted half of the morning sleeping.” You say, eager to change the subject.

“We are going to stay here another day,” She tells you. “You need to rest.”

Your eyes widen, guilt blooms heavily within your chest. “That is dangerous…”

“I am dangerous,” She smirks. “No harm will come to us.”

“You cannot do this for me.” You plead, eyes wide. “We must keep moving.”

Skade sighs, rolling her eyes. “Women are afflicted by this because men are too weak willed to endure it, but there is no shame in being in pain. I see your suffering. Accept my help, and drink your tea before it gets cold.”

You smile gratefully at her and lift the cup to your lips, taking a sip. You grimace, the taste is bitterly unpleasant against your tongue. “That is vile,” You cough. “I cannot drink this!”

Skade grins, snatching your tea from you and turns slightly to place both yours and her cups just outside the entrance of the tent. She fixes you with an intense stare when she turns back, her blue eyes bright even in the shade of the canvas roof above you.

“I have another idea,” She begins. “Something that will soothe you.”

“Will you use your power?” You ask curiously, nervousness and excitement prickling at your skin.

She huffs a soft laugh, shifting forward and pushing you back as she hovers over you. “Not the power you’re thinking of. But this remedy is just as ancient.”

You stare up at her, heart fluttering wildly in your chest as the long waves of her golden locks fan around your face like a shroud. Her face is so close to yours that your lips are almost brushing, but when you lean in, she pulls back with a wolfish smile, a silent denial of what you seek.

Her fingertips deftly push up the hem of the rough spun linen of the shirt you wear, dancing delicately across the exposed flesh of your midriff, causing your breath to hitch. She smooths the flat of her palm over your stomach, before bringing it to rest against your lower abdomen, applying gentle pressure.

The warm sensation of it is a relief against the cramps you’ve been suffering. You sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

“Better?” Skade asks, her breath tickling softling against your cheek.

“Yes.” You whisper quietly, almost afraid that if you speak too loudly the moment will end.

It is then that she allows her lips to meet yours, slow and unhurried. You kiss back, relaxing as every movement serves to ease the tension in your body. You can taste nettle tea, but it is far sweeter upon her lips than it is from the cup.

Skade breaks away, moving to mouth at your neck and collarbones. Her free hand makes quick work of plucking open your shirt buttons, pushing the fabric apart to reveal your breasts to her.

You gasp, arching your back as she latches onto a nipple, swirling her tongue around it. The added sensitivity caused by your blood serves to heighten the sensation, waves of arousal causing you to clench around nothing.

It is then that you feel her hand move from your abdomen, her fingers breaching the waistband of the trousers you wear. You freeze, eyes going wide.

“What are you doing?” You ask in hushed panic.

Skade releases your breast with a wet pop and stares up at you. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” You surprise yourself with how quickly you answer, how certain you sound, how sure you feel.

“Good.” She purrs, eyes darkened by lust. “Then let me do this. It will feel good.”

She moves her attention to the opposite nipple, laving her tongue across it before suckling gently, as her hand continues its downward trajectory. You jolt slightly as you feel her push her fingers across your mound, cupping roughly before pressing down to spread you open. Her middle finger seeks out your bud, circling slowly, and you shiver, whimpering at the way it makes you tense and throb.

Your whimpers increase in cadence, until they are lewd moans as her circles become tighter, faster, more precise. The coil in your gut winds impossibly tight and she kisses you feverishly as she feels you tense up, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as you fall apart, white hot waves of pleasure rippling through you, all the way to your toes.

Skade withdraws her hand once you still, laying on her back beside you, watching you intently as you gasp for breath.

“Better?” She asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

Once you are lucid enough to form a response, you notice that the ache inside you has disappeared almost entirely. You feel boneless in the wake of your peak. “Much.” You breathe.

“It’s a pity that the moon has not seen fit to align us, so that we may suffer this together.” She muses, rolling onto her side and stroking your hair.

“You would want to suffer with me?” You ask, your heart fluttering, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“For as long as the gods allow it.” She tells you, resting her head against your chest.

#skade #the last kingdom #skade x reader #skade smut #skade fan fiction #skade fanfiction #skade fan fic #skade fanfic #the last kingdom fan fiction #the last kingdom fanfiction #the last kingdom fan fic #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom smut #TLK

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chaotic-orphan · 2 months

Note

Hi, are you still continuing vendetta? It was really good, cant wait for the next part! no rush though :)

Vendetta — part six

Read part one here

Continued from here

I finally got around to finishing this!!!! Honestly, I had the plot, the ideas, everything sorted and then I blanked because — GUESS WHO DIDN’T CONSIDER HERO’S POWER?!?!!! It was me :] anyways! It is done!!!

*~*~*~*~*

Villain led Hero and Vigilante back out through the hole in the med bay towards the courtyard of the Guild where Hero had spent many hours training and sparring throughout their life. Superhero used to stand on the raised platform at the top of the courtyard so they could observe everyone’s progress during training. Now it was empty and it left a numb feeling in Hero’s chest.

Villain marched them up the platform steps and towards the back of it, to the Guild offices. Hero frowned. Why was Villain taking the time to ensure they weren’t seen? Hero could hear the commotion of Villains somewhere in and around the Guild, why not parade them through the masses?

Hero stepped closer to Vigilante when Villain opened the door for them and nodded at them to walk through.

“Stay close to me,” Vigilante whispered as they obeyed Villain’s order.

Hero didn’t need to be told twice. Hero didn’t know how many times they had been through here, how packed with people it used to be. People Hero knew. Now it was empty, it left a hole in Hero’s heart. Now they only had Vigilante to cling to for it to feel normal. They passed Doctor’s office, other Hero’s office and went straight for Superhero’s. Dread pooled in Hero’s gut as Villain knocked on the door.

“Enter,” a voice called from inside that wasn’t Superhero. Villain smiled at Hero, then opened the door. Villain pushed Vigilante ahead of them with a quick, hard shove. Vigilante stumbled forward, barely catching themselves. Villain didn’t give them a second before they delivered another hard shove that sent Vigilante to their knees in front of Superhero’s desk.

Except Superhero wasn’t sitting behind the desk.

Hero’s feet refused to move. They were rooted in place just inside the doorway because Villain blocked their only exit route behind them. They just stood in the doorway, mind going blank with horror as they faced Supervillain.

Supervillain sitting in Superhero’s chair. Where Superhero should be sitting, where they always sat but instead the cause of all Hero’s nightmares and grief occupied the spot instead.

This was the man that killed Doctor, that ordered for Doctor to die; for Hero to die. That forced Vigilante to kill that girl and Hero to fight more battles than they ever should have seen.

The cause for Hero’s entire world being on fire.

Supervillain smiled at Hero briefly, then his eyes went to Vigilante. The smile remained on his face but his eyes turned sharper, something cruel glinting in them. Something monstrous and hungry.

“Vigilante, so nice of you to drop by. I heard you joined the other side,” he said, his voice liquid smooth like mercury, both alluring and dangerous. There was a soft rumble to it in the back of his throat that made it that much more enticing, like you wanted to listen to him.

“I’m on Hero’s side,” Vigilante spat. “Not yours or the Heroes.”

“You put yourself in opposition to me, Vigilante. I don’t care for the reason, but,” Supervillain said, eyes flickering up to Hero who stood frozen at the door. “Fat lot of good it did you considering you’re both here now.”

Hero should do something. They should do… something! Think of a clever way out or something they could bargain with but their mind was blank, too busy sending racing thoughts zooming through their mind like shooting stars, too fast to catch, than having the ability to think properly. Everything in their chest seemed to lodge at the base of their throat and they were surprised they were still able to breathe normally.

“Yeah? Untie me and we’ll see how much good I can inflict.”

Supervillain laughed, Hero flinched at the sound. The reaction didn’t go unnoticed. Two ice coloured eyes found Hero’s and froze them in place even more so than before. Supervillain’s lips spread into a charming smile, exposing the contours of his face and jaw.

“Are you frightened, little Hero?” Supervillain asked, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at Hero. Vigilante glanced at Hero over their shoulder before getting to their feet and stepping in Supervillain’s view.

“Don’t look at them when I’m talking to you,” Vigilante spat. Supervillain let out a small huff of a laugh. As if Vigilante was a puppy puffing out it’s chest.

“I always admired your scrappy nature, Vigilante. It’s what endeared Villain to you in the first place.”

“Let me go and I’ll show you just how adorable I can be.”

“No need,” Supervillain said getting to his feet. The wooden legs of the chair scrapped against the wooden floor. Hero was too aware that their entire body had started to tremble during Vigilante’s and Supervillain’s chat.

They couldn’t move.

They couldn’t breathe.

They couldn’t…

stop…

shaking.

They should be right beside Vigilante defending them. Instead they stood useless. Watching everything as if it was on television… it seemed so unreal, so faraway. Their body felt so far from reach and they couldn’t order it to move, to react — to do anything but shake uselessly beside the door.

Supervillain walked around the desk and raised his hand to backhand Vigilante.

Hero’s heart lurched in their chest.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

Supervillain’s arm twitched, the movement telling of his intention to hurt Vigilante. Vigilante hadn’t stepped back, instead they bared their teeth, a flash of white pulling their lips into a vicious grimace. Accepting their fate but it didn’t matter.

Suddenly Hero was the subject of two grinning eyes gleaming down at them. They didn’t know they had moved until their eyes registered that Supervillain now stood in front of them, smile as sharp as barbed wire, and hungrier than a starved lion’s.

Hero tightened their grip on Supervillain’s wrist in their steady hand, Vigilante pushed behind them protectively with their other.

“Ah,” Supervillain said softly. “There you are, little Hero.”

Hero’s heart crashed against their chest hard, more jarring then being stranded in the desert. Fear circled in their gut like a vulture waiting for its quarry to die.

“Here I am,” Hero replied, voice even and steady. How the fuck was their voice so even?! They didn’t want to question it in case the courage decided to abandon them. “That means you don’t lay a finger on Vigilante.”

Hero shoved Supervillain’s hand back towards his chest, who smiled at the audacity of them. Hero stood sturdier than a wall between Supervillain and Villain on one side, and Vigilante protected behind them.

Supervillain’s smile grew more into a grin as he looked down at Hero. “You really are as magnificent as they say.”

Hero tilted their head up. “Wish I could return the compliment.”

“So bold, Hero. I guess Superhero never thought to put manners on you.”

“They were too busy training me to beat Villains like you.”

A warm chest pressed against Hero’s back. Vigilante whispered a soft, exasperated: “Hero.”

Supervillain noticed the warning, eyes flashing back to Vigilante. “Hey,” Hero said, gaining Supervillain’s attention again. “You’re taking to me. Don’t look at Vigilante.”

“But they did such a good job of getting you here,” Supervillain purred. Cruel eyes met Hero’s, and Hero would be lying if they said their stomach didn’t twist into knots at the thought of Vigilante betraying them but they knew Vigilante would never do that. Supervillain was just trying to scare them.

“Nice try, maybe have Villain not tie them up next time and I’ll believe you.”

“Oh so cute. You think there will be a next time, for Vigilante, hmm?”

Hero froze at the question. They hadn’t ever considered being without Vigilante, not being able to see them. But surely… surely Supervillain couldn’t do that, could he?

Supervillain leaned down close to Hero, and Hero, thankfully didn’t flinch at the closeness. They did, however, flinch when Supervillain said: “gotcha” with a chilling smile.

Hero didn’t know Supervillain’s plan, their power, that’s something he had always kept close to the chest so Hero just assumed he was powerless but what if he wasn’t? What then? Supervillain didn’t make any information public or readily available, his closest circle were all loyal to a fault— so what… was his power? Did he have one? Was he just trying to scare Hero?

Supervillain straightened, all humour gone from his face.

“Thank you, Villain, for bringing them both to me. As a reward, I’ll let you decide what you want to do with Vigilante.”

“No,” Vigilante ground out. Hero was frozen, again. Useless! So useless. Their hands itched to reach for their swords but their swords were safely in the possession of Villain, far from Hero. If they moved to Villain first then that would leave Vigilante open for Supervillain and somehow Hero trusted Villain more than Supervillain.

Villain wasn’t going to kill Vigilante, they had said so!

Hero stood powerless in front of Supervillain.

“Thank you, Supervillain,” said Villain. Then he moved towards Vigilante and Hero twisted hands spread out but they couldn’t do anything if Supervillain and Villain attacked at once.

“Come on Hero,” said Villain with a knowing stare.

Hero just bared their teeth in reply. Then there was a hand on Hero’s shoulder and one on their wrist, twisting Hero’s arm up their back. Hero gasped as they felt the familiar wash of ice through their veins when their ability was subduing another powered individual’s.

So Supervillain did have an ability.

“Hah,” Supervillain breathed behind Hero, pausing for a moment. “I knew it. No wonder Superhero kept you so close.”

Hero didn’t reply. They just slammed their head backwards. It stopped before impact and Hero could feel Villain’s power holding them. Shit. They needed Supervillain to stop touching them or they were going to lose Vigilante.

Villain was already behind Vigilante their hand on the back of Vigilante’s neck. Villain tilted their head at Supervillain.

“Do you want their swords?”

“Yeah,” Supervillain said behind Hero and Hero shot backwards. Supervillain quickly subduing them again by pushing their wrist further up their back until Hero cried out. “Leave them anywhere. That will be all. Thank you, Villain.”

“Hero!” Vigilante cried, struggling against Villain’s hold until they went still. Vigilante’s eyes met Hero’s with a determined desperation in them and Hero shook their head as tears sprung to their eyes. “We’ll get out of this, okay? Somehow. I’ll find you again!”

“I love you,” Hero whispered, not caring that the villains could hear them. Villain started to drag Vigilante from the office, steering him half with his power and half with his hands.

“I’ll find you Hero!” Vigilante yelled. “I love you, Hero. I’ll always—”

Hero started crying freely when Villain took Vigilante’s voice. Supervillain’s grip tightened on Hero’s wrist at the quiet hitches in Hero’s breath that was all too telling, but they didn’t care. They didn’t care if Supervillain knew they were crying or not, this wasn’t supposed to end like this!

The Villains weren’t supposed to win! And where the fuck was Superhero in all this? Why weren’t they stopping Supervillain?

Hero froze when a hand went to the top of their hair. Fingers lacing through the strands and running down, before starting from the top again.

“Sssh, sh, shh like Hero,” said Supervillain, while they pet Hero like a dog. Was he trying to be soothing or did he know this was creepy?! “Everything will be over soon enough. All this fighting. You’ll see how pointless it was to go against me in the first place.”

Hero shuddered at his voice, the certainty of his words but they were too tired to fight back anymore. Their heart still aching for Vigilante and the terror of not knowing where they were or what was being done to them.

Supervillain’s next words chilled Hero to the bone. “I think it’s time to rally the troops, don’t you?”

*~*~*~*~*

The Orphanage roll-call (tag-list lmk if you want to be added or removed <3): @micechomper @aarika-merrill

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bi-bard · 1 year

Text

Clever Boy - Eleventh Doctor Imagine [Doctor Who]

Title: Clever Boy

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor X Reader

Word Count: 6,449 words

Warning(s): major character death, canon-typical violence, mention of past trauma

Summary: [Season 7, Episode 1] The Doctor and (Y/n) are reunited with Amy and Rory when all of them find themselves in the custody of the Daleks with an impossible task before them.

Author's Note: Wouldn't be one of my OCs if I didn't randomly jump around the timeline a lot. If there's a season that you want to see next, let me know and I'll see what I can do!

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

-----------------------

I warned the Doctor about going to meet the women who wanted to save her daughter.

After all that we went through, it just seemed a little too perfect. Someone being able to send him a message and begging for help just after we avoid true death? I had trouble trusting it.

But he wanted to talk to her. He thought that he needed to.

I went with him for the sake of safety.

We met her on Skaro. The original planet of the Daleks.

She told us the story of Hannah. Her daughter who had been taken away to a Dalek prison camp. People had told her that we could help.

The Doctor noticed the same things that I did. The meeting place, how much she seemed to know about us, and the fact that she had left her daughter behind in the first place.

Mothers don't do that if they want to save or protect their child. They would rather burn the planet around them to the ground than be separated from them. At least, that's what I had learned from Amy.

Once the Doctor started asking too many questions, the woman was forced to reveal herself.

She hadn't escaped anything. She had merely been transformed.

Once the Doctor had been incapacitated, I went to take off running. Another person was already there and before I could truly make any progress, I was lying on the ground next to the Doctor.

When I came to, we were both in a cell.

"Good, you're awake!"

The Doctor pulled me off the floor. I blinked a few times, trying to get rid of whatever tiredness was still clouding my thoughts.

"How are you feeling," he asked.

"Angry and tired," I muttered.

"That's the spirit," he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

The doors slid open as he pulled away. Two Daleks rolled in.

"You will come with us," one of them instructed.

"Where are we going," I asked, not moving from my spot.

"The Doctor and (Y/n) will be reunited with their companions."

I felt a strong hit of fear strike my chest. They had gotten Rory and Amy too. This was the worst-case scenario.

"Move," the Dalek instructed again.

We were led down the hall. One Dalek was leaning in front of us, the other was behind us.

We made it to another cell. Amy and Rory were waiting for us just inside.

As soon as we were all inside, a hatch in the ceiling came undone and the platform we were standing on began to raise itself up.

A room. A circular room full of enough Daleks to fill up a few dozen lecture halls. Far more than they would need to take over a multitude of planets.

"Please, tell me this isn't what I think it is," I spoke to the Doctor quietly.

"What is it," Amy asked. "Spaceship, right?"

"Not just a spaceship," he explained. "The Parliament of the Daleks."

I closed my eyes for a moment. Some part of me wanted to believe that this was all some twisted dream. Another part of me knew very well that it wasn't, but facing the reality around us was too terrifying to contemplate.

We had just escaped death to be handed a death sentence.

I only opened my eyes because I heard the Doctor start telling them to take their shot. I was ready to slap him.

"Save us," the emperor spoke up.

"Excuse me?" I admittedly didn't think much before I snapped back at the creature.

"You will save the Daleks."

I scoffed. Another decision that I didn't think through properly.

The room began chanting at all of us. Just repeating the same three words over and over. Save the Daleks.

As the voices died down, The Doctor started pacing.

After a little while, I heard Amy and Rory mumbling to each other. I tried to pay it no mind, but it was difficult when the tension between them was more suffocating than the fear of being surrounded by Daleks.

I didn't mind the muttering until it turned to me.

"And (Y/n) is constantly glancing at us because they want to help us from whatever is wrong with us," Amy whispered. "'Oh no, Amy and Rory are clearly not alright, how are we going to fix that?'"

"Get better at hiding the tension if you don't want me worrying about you," I said bluntly.

She looked down for a moment.

"We have arrived," one of the Daleks announced.

"Arrived where," the Doctor asked.

"Doctor," the emperor said.

"The Prime Minister will speak with you now," the woman from our original meeting spoke up, motioning over to him.

The Doctor didn't move for a minute. When he did, he didn't turn to face their emperor- sorry- their Prime Minister. He moved over to me.

The Doctor stepped closer to me, taking my hand in his as he mumbled into my ear, "We don't have to do this, We could run-"

"Yes, we do," I cut the Doctor off as I looked at him. "They won't let us walk out of here if we don't."

I saw the sad look cross his eyes.

"I don't care if I die," I whispered. "But I will not be the reason that you or Amy or Rory die. I just won't."

He took a deep breath before kissing the side of my head and stepping back. He turned back to the Prime Minister.

He stopped by the woman. "Do you remember who you were before they emptied you out and turned you into their puppet?"

"My memories are only activated if they are required to facilitate deep cover or disguise."

"Look at that," I replied sarcastically. "We were important enough to switch the memories back on."

The Doctor continued approaching the Prime Minister. I took a few steps closer behind him. Quiet support more than anything else.

"What do you know of the Dalek asylum," the creature asked.

"According to legend, you have a dumping ground," he replied. "A planet where you lock up all the Daleks that go wrong. The battle-scarred, the insane, the ones even you can't control. Which never made any sense to me."

"Why not?"

"Because you'd just kill them."

"It is offensive to us to extinguish such divine hatred."

That statement made me sick to my stomach. I interrupted the Doctor, "Offensive?"

"Does it surprise you to know that Daleks have a concept of beauty?"

"No," I shook my head. "I am just surprised that after so long you can still find ways to be so disgusting. Hatred so beautiful that you have to keep hurt, scared creatures in a cage like a personal zoo? Such a fixation on the emotion that it makes you go against your entire purpose. Kill what's different."

The Doctor started walking down the ramp towards me.

"Perhaps that is why we could never kill either of you," the Prime Minister stated.

I was ready to stand and argue, but I didn't get the chance before a hole in the middle of the floor opened. We both walked over to it, looking down at the planet just underneath it.

"The asylum occupies the entire planet," the woman- Darla- explained. "Right to the core."

"How many Daleks are in there," the Doctor asked.

"A count has not been made," she answered. "Millions, certainly."

I was next to speak up, "All still alive?"

"It has to be assumed. The asylum is fully automated. Supervision is not required."

"Armed?" Amy looked over.

"A Dalek is always armed."

"What color?"

We all looked at Rory as the question came out of his mouth.

"Sorry, there weren't any good questions left."

"There's a signal being received from the very heart of the asylum," Darla explained. Just as she did, music began playing over the speaker.

"What is the noise," a Dalek yelled. "Explain! Explain!"

"It's me," the Doctor replied.

"Oh God," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Sorry, what?" Rory turned to us.

"I'm playing the triangle," the Doctor grinned, mimicking his motion.

"And hasn't one let me forget that fun fact," I added.

"Carmen," the Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his jacket and scanned the console that the Dalek had been using. "Lovely show."

I follow him back up the ramp. "Please tell me you're-"

"Tracking back the signal so we can talk to them," he finished my sentence for me.

"Dibs!" I shoved him out of the way. "Hello? Hello... Carmen?"

"Creative."

"Shut up," I muttered. "Hello! Come in, come in. Someone there?"

"Do you read me?" a voice rang out.

"Loud and clear," I replied, smiling properly for the first time since the trip had started. "Identify yourself and report your status."

"Hello," the voice said.

"Hello," I repeated.

"Are you real? Properly real?"

"Actually, properly real. Living, breathing, and bleeding if I am not careful."

"Oswin Oswald," she introduced. "Junior Entertainment Manager, Starship Alaska. Current status: crashed and shipwrecked somewhere... not nice. Been here a year, rest of the crew missing, provision's good but keen to move on."

"A year," I asked. "Are you okay? Under attack?"

"Some local life forms. Been keeping them out."

I looked at the Doctor, scared and confused by the story. "Know what they are?"

"I know a Dalek when I hear one, yeah," she replied.

"What have you been doing all alone, for a year? Against the Daleks?"

"Making soufflés."

I let out an amused huff. "soufflés."

"Where do you get the milk?" the Doctor butted in. I furrowed my eyebrows. It was a good question.

"This conversation is irrelevant." The Dalek did not agree with me. It shut off the signal.

"No, it isn't," the Doctor snapped back.

"Someone crashed into your asylum, meaning there's a big hole in whatever security you had," I joined in. "One thing gets in, millions can get out."

"Even you don't want that," the Doctor added.

"The asylum must be cleansed," the Dalek spoke.

"Then, why is it still here," the Doctor asked. "You have enough firepower to blast it out of the sky."

"They can't," I concluded. "The security that they put on the planet won't allow it. That's why we're here."

"The asylum's forcefield is impenetrable," Darla stepped forward. "And can only be turned off from the inside."

The Doctor went walking down the ramp again. "A small task force could sneak in. Send a couple of Daleks."

He paused halfway down the ramp, noting the silence in the room.

"Oh," he mumbled. "That's good. They're too scared to go down there. What do the Daleks do when they're too scared."

To put it very simply, they were going to launch all of us into a planet. They gave us these bracelets that fended off the nanocloud, which would turn everything that wasn't Dalek into... Dalek. Once we made it down, it was our job to figure out how to shut off the forcefield so they could destroy it.

We were led back to the opening in the floor, where a gravity beam was waiting for us. I reached over and grabbed the Doctor's hand. He rubbed a circle into the skin of my hand with his thumb.

"Ready," I asked.

"Are we ever," he grumbled back to me.

I was hoping to get a chance to jump into the gravity beam on my own. We didn't. Instead, we were all pushed into it.

My next memory was lying in the snow. I groaned as I pushed myself up. I looked around at my surroundings. There was nothing there that I could make any sense of.

I jumped when music started playing next to me. I looked down at an eyestalk looking at me. I moved to lay on my stomach in front of it.

"Oswin?" I called.

"Sorry!" she replied. "I pressed the wrong switch. You okay?"

"I just got launched at a planet, but I could be worse," I shrugged. "How are you doing that? This is Dalek technology."

"It's very easy to hack."

"Respectfully, no, it really isn't. Where are you?"

"Somewhere underground... I think. Ship broke up when it hit. You coming to get me?"

"(Y/n)!"

I jumped at the sound of the Doctor's voice. The camera disappeared as soon as he spoke.

"Dammit," I mumbled, pushing myself to stand up.

"Who are you talking to?"

"Oswin," I replied.

"Soufflé girl?"

"She has a name."

"Doctor!" Amy came running at us from the other side of a hill.

The Doctor helped steady her.

"Where's Rory," he asked.

"There was another beam," the man pointed vaguely behind us all. He continued following us.

We found a hole in the ground. It was deep enough that we couldn't see the bottom.

The man from earlier led us to a hatch that he had been trying to get into. He explained that his team had come down two days ago and that there were twelve other escape pods.

"Alaska," Amy read out, looking down at the name printed on the ship. "That's the same as Soufflé Girl."

"Two days," I asked, looking at the man. He nodded before opening the hatch. "It can't be the same as her. She's been here a year."

We all followed him down.

"There should be some climbing rope long enough for that hole," he explained.

I stepped around one of the seats when I spotted a hood. I leaned down only to be met with a skeleton sitting in the seat. Can't be merely two days old. It couldn't have been.

"Won't you introduce us to your crew," the Doctor asked. I grabbed his arm and stepped as close as possible. "What?"

"They're dead," I mumbled. "That... That one is a skeleton. They can't be two days old."

"Guys, this is the Doctor, Amy, and (Y/n)," the man introduced us. Nothing. I stepped a little further back from the seats. "Guys?"

The Doctor stepped forward, tapping the one I had seen on the shoulder. Its head rolled back, revealing the skeleton. The Doctor checked all of them. With the sonic screwdriver for some reason... they were skeletons, he didn't need to use the screwdriver. They were all dead.

"That's not possible," the man argued. "I just spoke to them. Two hours ago. We were doing engine repairs."

"I'm sorry, but there was no way that's possible. They've been dead a long time."

"Of course," he muttered. "Stupid me. I died outside. The cold preserved my body."

I stepped closer to the ladder, hoping to be ready to run from the man.

Then, an eyestalk started to protrude out of his forehead. "I forgot about dying."

The Doctor grabbed the fire extinguisher off the wall and sprayed it at the man. Amy hit the button next to the door, only shutting it once the man was secured on the other side.

"How'd he get all... Daleked," Amy asked.

"He didn't have a bracelet," I explained. "Nanocloud."

"Microorganisms that automatically process any organic matter, dead or alive, into a Dalek puppet."

"Anything that attacks the asylum immediately becomes on-site security. We've seen the interesting abilities of nano-tech."

"Living or dead?" Amy said. I paused, eyes going wide as I looked around the room.

"The wristbands protect us," the Doctor continued rambling. "The only thing keeping us from going completely-"

"Doctor, shut up," she cut him off. "Living or dead?"

"Yes, exactly, living or..."

The bones of the skeletons started cracking as the creatures stood up. The Doctor took off over the tops of the chairs once he noticed. I mostly followed his lead.

We only had true trouble once one of the creatures had caught Amy's wrist. The door slamming shut was enough to get the thing to let go.

The two of them leaned against the door while I stood across from them.

"Unauthorized personnel may not enter the cockpit," a familiar voice rang out over the intercom in the room.

"Oswin!" I jumped a bit. "I lost you back there, you alright?"

"I'm fine, just lost the signal."

The Doctor moved around me, taking a seat at the console, where a camera was pointed at us.

"Oi, Mr. Grumpy, don't get too close," she said. "Ooo, bad combo. No sense of humor and that chin."

I bit the inside to keep from laughing, even though I heard Amy chuckle behind me.

"What is wrong with my chin," the Doctor asked. He looked over at me.

"Nothing," I promised.

"Careful, don't poke their eye out."

I couldn't stop the laugh that came out of my mouth.

"(Y/n)," he whined.

"Sorry, sorry," I held my hands up. "I think your chin is... very handsome."

"I'm scanning you," Oswin informed us. "You're in another of the escape pods from the Alaska. It seems your power's on."

"How are you hacking into everything," I asked. "That should be impossible."

"Long story," she said simply. "There a word for total screaming genius that sounds modest and a tiny bit sexy?"

I chuckled. "Not that I know off the top of my head, sorry."

"What's your name again?"

"(Y/n)."

"That'll work."

I let out a stunned scoff. "Oswin!"

"What?!"

"I am in a very committed relationship," I explained.

"With the chiny one?"

I had to hold back the laugh that wanted to escape.

"Is it him?"

"Yeah, it's him," I replied.

"Aw, cute," she gushed. "I was hoping it was the redhead."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. I saw the Doctor's frown and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. He let a small grin cross his lips.

There was a beep on her hand. "Check the floor. I'm picking up a breach at floor level. There could be a way out. See you later!"

There had been a hatch on the floor. There was a rope going down into wherever it led. Someone else's escape route.

"This must go straight down to the asylum," the Doctor muttered as he unlocked the hatch.

"Where Rory is," Amy replied.

"Speaking of Rory," I started. "Anything you wanna talk about?"

"Are we going to do this now," she asked.

"What happened?" I countered.

"Just stuff, you know. We split up. What can you do?"

"What can I do," the Doctor mumbled, looking at her.

"Nothing," she explained. "it's not one of those things that you can fix like your bow tie."

The Doctor looked down again.

"Oh, don't give me those big, wet eyes, raggedy man. It's life. Just life. That thing that goes on when you two aren't around. We don't all get to end up traveling all of time and space with our true loves."

I felt a sting of guilt in my chest. I had always known that the Doctor and I were the exception. But Rory and Amy were each other's person. They were stuck together by the universe. They couldn't get away from each other if they tried.

I had grown to see them as an example of sorts.

I looked back at Amy. Maybe she saw us the same way.

There was a rope ladder going all the way to the bottom.

"Someone else got out this way," Amy noted.

"Let's go and find them," the Doctor muttered. He ran to the camera by the door.

They were holding up one of the bracelets. Amy's bracelet.

"Amy," the Doctor whispered.

"What's going to happen to me," she asked. "Seriously? Tell me. What?"

The Doctor didn't reply. Instead, he ran off to the ladder, leading the way down. I let Amy go before me. I followed right behind them, pulling it shut behind me.

"So, what's going to happen to me," she pushed again. "And don't lie. Because I know when you're lying to me and I will definitely fall on you."

"The air all around is full of micro-machines," the Doctor explained. I was stunned that he answered at all. "Robots the size of molecules. Nanogenes. Now that you're unprotected, you're being rebuilt."

By that point, we had made it to the bottom. Granted, by that point, we had already had this conversation at least four times.

"So what happens? I get one of those things sticking out of my head?" she continued.

"Physical changes come later," the Doctor grabbed her hand, pulling her along with us.

"What comes first? How does it start?"

"Your mind. Your feelings, your memories. And I'm sorry but it's already started."

"How do you know?"

"This is the fourth time we've had this conversation."

"I'm scared now."

"Hang onto that," I told her. "Scared isn't Dalek. Hold onto anything that isn't Dalek."

The door opened in front of us.

There was a smell coming from the room.

"What's that," Amy asked.

The Doctor closed the door again. "Stay right there. Don't open this door."

"Oswin," I yelled. "Can you hear me?"

"Hello (Y/n) and the Chin, I have visual on you," she replied. "(Y/n) and the Chin. You two could start a band."

"Why exactly don't we have a visual on you," the Doctor spoke up. "Why can't I ever see you?"

"Limited power, bad hair, take your pick," she explained. "There's a door to your left. Open it."

I looked to my left and went to the door. "Alright."

The door slid open to reveal a small screen.

"I'm going to send you a map to that screen," she explained.

I nodded and stepped inside. "Ready when you are, Oswin."

"Oh, your friend is safe. I can get you to him."

"You found Rory," I asked.

"Yup," she confirmed. "Well, I call him Nina. Personal thing."

I furrowed my eyebrows for a moment before focusing on the screen again.

I watched as she typed away. I followed the map that she was using to guide us. I heard the door open.

"How many Daleks are right ahead of us," I asked.

"Ten, twenty," she estimated. "Some are catatonic, but they do have firepower."

"Doctor," I tried to whisper-shout at him. "Where's Amy?"

He turned around and ran into the room that we had been avoiding earlier. She was standing in the middle.

"How do we get past them," I turned back to Oswin.

The Doctor and Amy shoved their way into the closet with me.

"Okay then," I gasped as I was shoved into the wall.

The sounds just outside the door powered down. The two of them stepped out first and I awkwardly followed.

"It's damaged," the Doctor said.

"Okay, but what do we do," Amy asked.

"Identify me," he turned to the Dalek. "Access your files. Come on."

"You are the Predator," the Dalek spoke.

"Access your standing orders concerning the Predator."

"The Predator must be destroyed!"

"And how are you going to do that? the Doctor stepped forward. "A Dalek without a gun? You're a tricycle with a roof. How are you going to destroy me?"

"Self-destruct initiated," the Dalek shouted.

"What's it doing," Amy asked.

"Destroying the Predator," I explained.

The Doctor lifted the Dalek's hood.

"Self-destruct cannot be countermanded," the Dalek said.

"I wasn't looking for countermand," the Doctor replied. "I'm looking for reverse."

The Dalek proceeded to roll backwards into the large room. It exploded, taking out the other Daleks with it.

We had all been thrown backward.

I shoved myself off the floor. The Doctor picked up a now unconscious Amy and followed me. Rory was standing on the other side of the room.

"Where have you been," I asked.

"Oswin put me in a- a room," Rory pointed behind him. "Is Amy alright?"

"Just unconscious," I explained. "Where's the room?"

He led us into some other room off to the side. The Doctor placed Amy down and we all waited for her to wake up. While we did, the Doctor explained the situation of the stolen bracelet.

"Will the sleeping help her," Rory asked. "Slow down the process?"

"You'd better hope so," Oswin's voice filled the room. "Because pretty soon, she's going to try and kill you."

Amy woke up a moment later, groaning as she did, "Ow."

"Hey," the Doctor said. "Still with us?"

"Amy, it's me," Rory grinned at her. "Do you remember me?"

She reached up and slapped him as soon as the words left his mouth.

"I'd take that as a yes," I advised.

"Same old Amy," the Docter mumbled.

"Do you know how you make someone into a Dalek," Oswin asked. She was quieter now. Like she was scared. "Subtract love, add anger. Doesn't she seem a bit too angry to you?"

"Well, somebody's never been to Scotland," Amy replied, pushing herself up.

"Oswin," I said. "How are you... okay? Why hasn't the nanocloud converted you?"

"I mentioned the genius thing, yeah?" she explained. "Shielded in here."

"Clever of you," I muttered, trying to ignore the nervousness in my stomach. Hope. If I needed one thing right now, it was hope. "Now, the Daleks said that this place was fully automated. But it's a wreck."

"I've had nearly a year to mess with them and not a lot else to do."

"A junior entertainment manager hiding out in a wrecked ship, hacking the security systems of one of the most advanced warrior race the universe has ever seen," the Doctor spoke up as he was scurrying around the room. "But you know what gets me about you, Oswin? The soufflés."

"The soufflés," Amy asked.

"Where do you get milk for the soufflés?"

He turned to the rest of us.

"Seriously, is no one else wondering about that?"

I didn't want to admit that I had found it easier to ignore it. I merely looked down. Rory shut it down more bluntly than I had.

"So, Doctor," Oswin piped up. "I've been looking you up. And you, (Y/n). You're all over the database. Why do the Daleks call you the Predator? Why are you lot such a threat?"

"Not a predator, just a man with a plan," the Doctor replied.

"You've got a plan?"

"In no particular order," the Doctor explained, "we need to neutralize all the Daleks in the asylum, rescue Oswin from the wreckage, escape from the planet, and save Amy and Rory's marriage."

"Alright, I'm counting three lost causes, anyone else," Amy asked.

"Oswin, there's a Dalek ship in orbit," the Doctor said.

"Yeah, got it on the sensors," she replied.

"The asylum has a forcefield. The Daleks are waiting for me to shut it off. As soon as I do, they'll burn this whole world and us with it. So, my question for you is this, how fast can you drop the forcefield?"

"Pretty fast."

"Good. This is a teleport, am I correct?"

"Yeah. Internal use only."

"I can boost the power once the force field is down. And we can use it to beam us right off this planet," the Doctor explained, messing with the teleport.

"But you said that when the forcefield is down, the Daleks will blow us up," Rory pointed out.

"That's why we have to be quick," I spoke up.

"Fine, we'll be quick, but where do we beam to," Amy asked.

"The only place within range. The Dalek ship," the Doctor answered.

"They'd exterminate us on the spot," Amy said.

"We'd survive four seconds longer," Rory agreed.

"What's wrong with four seconds," the Doctor smirked. "You can do loads in four seconds."

"Oswin, how fast can you drop the forcefield?" I called.

"I can do it from here," she explained. "As soon as you come and get me."

"Why don't you drop the forcefield and come to us," I asked.

"There's enough power in that teleport for one go," she replied. "Why would you wait for me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"No idea, never met you," she said. "I'm sending you a map so you can come and get me."

"(Y/n)," the Doctor grabbed my arm as I went to run over. I yanked my arm away.

"I'm going to do this," I told him bluntly. "Stay here. Keep them safe. If we don't make it in time, then I want you to go. Got it?"

He stared at me for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Make it back."

"I plan to," I smirked a bit before looking at the map. As I took off, I turned back to him. "I love you!"

"Love you too!" I heard him say behind me.

I stepped out into the hall.

I could hear banging and the sounds of Daleks screaming various threats and promises. They only got louder as I rounded the corner. I took a deep breath as I continued moving.

It was terrifying.

The closed walls, the sound of Daleks yelling. It was all so familiar. I could vividly see myself back in that little box that I had known for far too long. The practice scenarios where I would be faced with almost exactly this situation.

I tried to block out those memories. I had other things to focus on at the moment.

In a more relative sense, it had been going well. I hadn't been met with any loss Daleks and I was close to where I needed to be.

"Oswin," I said quietly. "I think I'm close."

"You are," she replied. "Less than twenty feet away. Which is the good news."

"And the bad?"

"You're about to pass through intensive care."

"Oh, great," I muttered, taking another deep breath.

The door slid open.

It was quiet. Daleks were lined up in cages, all dormant. The lights were off.

"Why are they here," I asked.

"Don't know. Survivors of particular wars. Spiridon, Kembel, Aridius, Vulcan, Exxilon. Ringing any bells."

I felt like the air was being forced out of my lungs. I was being strangled without anyone else around. My legs felt shaky as if my knees were prepared to give out at any given moment. And my head. My head hurt and was swirling with a thousand thoughts and memories.

And all I could was keep walking.

"Yeah," I answered, pausing to look at one of them. "These are the Daleks of the Time War."

I wanted to vomit.

"I was supposed to stop it. I couldn't."

I heard one of the Daleks coming to life behind me. "Savior."

"I'm sorry, what did it call you?"

"Nothing," I replied. "A name that I gave up a long, long time ago."

More Daleks started to wake up. I walked away, hoping to get out of the room as fast as possible.

"Oswin, there's a door but it won't open," I said. "They can't be far away now."

"Hold on. There's a release code, but I just need to find it. Is there anything happening out there?"

"No. But I don't like the silence any more than the yelling."

I heard chains rattling behind me. My breathing spiked again.

"Oswin!"

"Just a second!"

I heard the snapping of chains and my name being yelled again. I pressed my back to the door, putting as much distance between me and the approaching Daleks as I could. None of them seemed to have guns, so I should have been safe.

I closed my eyes, curling in on myself.

And then, it stopped.

All of it just froze.

"Oh, that is cool," I heard Oswin say as the Daleks turned around and moved away from me. "Tell me, I'm cool."

"What did you do," I asked.

"Hang on, I think I found the door thingy-"

"No, I need to know what you just did," I cut her off.

"The Daleks have a hive mind. Well, not really, it's more of a telepathic web."

"And?"

"I hacked into it," she explained. "Did a master delete on all the information connected with the Savior or (Y/n). Including information about the Doctor and your friends."

I let out a breathy laugh at the idea, tears filling my eyes. "You made them forget me."

"Good, huh," she asked. "And here comes the door."

"The Doctor has tried hacking into the path web before. He could never find a way to do it. I never even tried because of how much security they've got on it."

"Come and meet the woman who can."

The door slid open behind me. I scrambled inside but froze just in the doorway.

"Hey, you're right outside," the voices were mixing together. One Oswin's and the other was... Dalek. "Come on in."

"Oswin," I said. I took a step forward. "We have a problem."

"No, we don't," she replied. "Don't even say that. I joined the Alaska to see the universe and crashed on my first trip. You're here. You can take me to see it all. Properly."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Does it look real to you? That little place you're in right now?"

"It is real."

"It's a dream," I said. "Your mind constructed a safe place for you. Reality got too terrible. Too scary."

Her voice disappeared. All that was left was the Dalek's. "Where am I?"

"They did a complete transformation on you," I explained. "You are... a Dalek."

"No, no, I'm not a Dalek. I'm human."

I stepped forward, gently touching the shell of the creature. "You were when you crashed. But they found you... you climbed out of that pod we found."

"I'm human."

"Not anymore. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

There was no answer.

"You're a genius. They need genius."

There was still no response.

"I am so sorry," I started walking backward, closer to the door. "The Doctor asked earlier, but you never had to answer. Where did you get the milk? And the eggs? For the soufflés?"

"Eggs..." the Dalek voice shot fear into my stomach.

"I'm sorry."

"Ex... term... i... nate."

"Oswin," I muttered, stepping further back.

"Exterminate!"

"Oswin, wait!"

I scrambled back toward the door as the chains snapped off.

"You don't have to do this! They turned you but look at what you've done so far! You are still good! You are still you! Oswin, please!"

The Dalek stopped just in front of me.

"Oswin?"

"Why do they hate you," she asked. "You and that man. Why do they hate you so much?"

"I fought them. With him. More times than I can count."

"We have grown stronger out of fear."

"I know. That's... That's part of why we tried to step away. Stop giving them a reason to be stronger."

"Run."

"What," I asked. "What did you say?"

"Run," she repeated. "I've taken down the forcefield. The Daleks have begun their attack. Run.

I blinked at her a few times. I couldn't think of what to say.

"Oswin-"

"I am Oswin Oswald. I fought the Daleks and I am human. Remember me."

I grinned at her. "Yeah. I will. Thank you."

"Run," she urged me. I nodded and turned around as I heard something start crumbling around me. "Go save that clever boy of yours... and remember."

I have never thought about how difficult it is to run while you're crying. It hinders every system you had. Eyesight and breathing and your sense of direction gets shot by the emotion.

It was a miracle that I made it to the teleport in time. I jumped into the Doctor, hugging his as tight as I could.

"You alright?"

"We don't have time," I shrugged it off as I stepped back. There was another rumble. "We have to go."

He nodded. He hit a button on his control panel.

The Daleks were panicking when we got there. We ended up inside the TARDIS, but we could still hear them worrying about being under attack.

"You guys should have seen this coming," the Doctor yelled. "The thing about me and teleports is that I have really good aim. Pinpoint accurate, in fact. Or, to put it another way..."

"Please don't," I begged, going to grab his arm.

"Suckers!"

He stepped out of the TARDIS before I could stop him. I followed him out. If I couldn't stop him, then I could be next to him when he got himself killed.

The Dalek yelled at us, "Identify yourself! Identify!"

"What," the Doctor asked. "You know me."

"She did it," I whispered.

"Who did what," the Doctor turned to me.

"We should go," I said.

The Dalek yelled again, "Identify yourself!"

"The Doctor... The Oncoming Storm-"

"Titles are not meaningful in this context. Doctor who?"

I let out a sharp, relieved breath at the question. And then at how the question spread like wildfire.

"Come on," I grabbed the Doctor's hand.

He didn't question me any further, just following me back inside as the Daleks continued yelling.

Our next stop after that was Rory and Amy's home. They stepped out, waving to us as we went.

As the TARDIS took off again, it felt like the adrenaline finally wore off, I felt the tears coming back to my eyes.

I covered my mouth, leaning forward a bit and laying my other hand on the railing. The sobs started long before I ever had a chance to stop them.

"(Y/n)?- Hey," the Doctor walked over. He reached out and touched my arm.

It was as if that made me snap back to my senses. I quickly wrapped my arms around him, hiding my face in his shoulder.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, hugging me back. He ran his hand up and down my back a bit. "What happened?"

"I was too late," I muttered. I leaned back, wiping my eyes as I did. The Doctor's hands touched my sides. "I... I found her, but they... they had done a complete transformation."

"The milk and eggs," he mumbled.

"She... She wasn't even aware of it," I continued. "That's why she thought she had all of this stuff. She really thought that she was still human. That she was just waiting so I could save her."

The Doctor leaned over to kiss my forehead before pressing his against mine. "There was nothing you could have done."

I didn't respond for a moment.

"(Y/n)..."

"She did something," I said. "She got into their telepathic web and... she deleted all of the information about you and me."

"Really?"

"She saved our lives. And all I gave her was false hope."

The Doctor pulled me into another hug. "I'd like to think you saved hers as well. In some way."

I closed my eyes.

"A new way of thinking can save someone more than we'll ever know."

I would love to think that he was right.

And maybe he was, but it would be a very long time before I accepted that possibility.

-----------------------

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#eleventh doctor imagine #eleventh doctor fanfiction #eleventh doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfiction #imagine #fanfiction #x reader #matt smith x reader #matt smith fanfiction #matt smith imagine

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ladylooch · 1 year

Text

All About You- Brady Skjei

A/N: Whew, is it ever too early for smut on a Saturday? No? Okay thanks for making me feel better 🤪

I had a couple of requests for Brady Skjei, so this is my gift to both of those lovely anons.

My perception of Brady is very, very soft with a rough side, so I tried to capture that perception here. Thanks for reading!

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: 18+ Content, swearing, unsavory things while driving (be safe. Obey most of the laws).

I’m awakened on an off-day Sunday by Brady rolling out of bed. I wince at the sun streaking in through the blinds, annoyed with last night us that decided we were too drunk to do one last step. I toss my arm over my eyes, stretching my back out. I attempt to settle myself deeper into bed as I feel the other side dip from Brady’s return.

“How do you want your coffee?” He asks me. His fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling it from my face so he can place kisses along my soft skin. I sigh at the brief presses, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“Cold and in two hours.” I mutter.

“Cold it is.” Another kiss and he’s gone.

I doze in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes until I hear his heavy footsteps coming back down the hall. I open one eye at him, seeing my to-go tumbler filled with delicious liquid gold. I reach for it, confused.

“Am I going somewhere?”

“Yeah, baby. Get dressed. Comfy clothes only today.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” His smile is mischievous.

“Brady, it’s too early for games.” I say to him, slowly sitting up. My shoulders slouch forward. I can tell my hair is a mess, my mascara is definitely smudged into raccoon eyes and my breath is hot garbage. And still, he looks at me like he’s never seen anything more beautiful. His brown eyes liquify. Eventually, he comes to, leaning forward to connect our lips. He doesn’t mind garbage breath.

“No games. I promise.” He says nothing more as he wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me from the bed.

“This is a game.”

“No, it’s to get you to move that hot ass a little faster.” He sets me in the bathroom then gives my butt a slap. “Hustle, Skjei.”

I try to do as coach asked, alternating between getting ready tasks and small sips of my coffee. Brady comes in at least three more times to check my progress until I shut the door on him.

“You’re making this take longer!” I yell through the door at his protesting.

“I need you done in five minutes.” He responds.

I’m done in three, opening the door to find him laying on the bed, hands crossed over his stomach, staring at the ceiling. He pops up, assessing my outfit of yoga pants and a cropped, peach sweatshirt. My hair is settled into a high ponytail and I’m makeup free.

“Just the way I like you.” He murmurs, walking towards me. His hands slide to my ass, gripping both cheeks with his strong hands. His mouth encloses mine. My fingers card through his long hair, tugging the strands slightly just how he loves. “Oof. Okay, we better go before I change my mind.”

“When do I get to know where we are going?” I ask him as I click my seatbelt into place.

“When we get there.” He insists, pulling out of our garage. “Enjoy the ride, baby.” He jokes as he puts on my favorite true crime podcast that he literally loathes. I squeal in delight, tucking my legs into a pretzel, gripping my tumbler and listening intently.

We are on the road, traveling through the morning humidity haze until we come to an obscure building with windows only facing out towards a fenced wooded area. I turn to Brady expectantly.

“Today is all about you.” He murmurs. “You’ve been so good to me this season. Taking care of every detail with the house renovation, food for us, attending every home game, and making sure I’m always ready to hit the road. I love and appreciate you so much. I couldn’t be successful in this league without you.”

“B-” I pout sweetly at him.

“Nah. Don’t deflect. I mean it, I’m so lucky to have you. So, I planned a whole spa day for you. Just you. I know you really want to get some alone time in to recharge, so it’s all set for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, whatever they do here, you’re getting it. You deserve to be pampered. And I would gladly do it, but I think you’ll be getting better service from the professionals.” I laugh, thinking of Brady attempting to paint my nails.

“Let’s be honest. We wouldn’t get passed the massage part.” I grin, leaning across the center console to kiss him. “You’re so sweet. Thank you.”

“Thank you. Now, get out of this car. I’ll pick you up in five hours.”

Brady wasn’t kidding. He absolutely went all out for me. The spa had it all- tranquil music, cozy waiting areas, and the most luxurious robes I’d ever slipped onto my body. I started with a gentle, Swedish massage, then moved into a moisturizing facial. By the time I got to my manicure and pedicures, I was a puddle of goo in the chair. I sipped on expensive champagne, ate delicious snacks of fruit and assorted cheeses all while enjoying my own company and several podcasts that had built up in my Spotify episodes. By the time I saw my husband again, I felt like a completely different person.

“Holy shit.” I say to him as I collapse into the passenger seat. His hand immediately finds my thigh, rubbing his thumb against the smooth fabric of my pants. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed in my whole life. And that includes our honeymoon.” I rest my head back against the seat, sighing contently. I slowly open my eyes, turning to Brady who gives me that same look from this morning- like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen. “Thank you.” I finish in a whisper. “This season has been a grind.” I admit, not that it’s news. After two shortened seasons, the 82 game season was an adjustment.

“I know.” He reaches his hand up, cupping my cheek to bring our lips together. He feels like heaven. I can’t help but moan. The air in the car shifts and Brady presses his mouth tighter to mine. I nibble his bottom lip in my mouth, reaching my hand out to skirt across the zipper of his shorts.

“Only one more thing could make this day perfect.”

“Oh, we aren’t even close to done yet.” He tells me. “That was just phase one.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” I whine, watching as he pulls away to start driving.

“It was the five star head on our 1st date.”

“Brady!” I snap, slapping his thigh. His quad seemingly claps back, making my hand sting. My cheeks tint red at the memory. Normally I’m not someone to put out on the first date, but something about Brady was different from the start. I wanted to.. no I had to, at that sophomore year homecoming party hosted by the hockey team.

“I think about that on a weekly basis.” He admits to me, flipping his turn signal on and heading to the right. “Knew I’d do just about anything to keep that mouth on me.” I drop my head in my hands, laughing. I slide my fingers apart, swiveling my head to look at him.

“What would you do for it right now?” I can feel the breath rush from his chest at the thought. Most of our way home is obscure backroads. Very little traffic is with us or going the opposite direction. It’s risky, but not impossible.

“You start us in this car and I’ll finish us inside of you.”

“Promise?” I ask, skirting my fingers along the growing bulge.

“Yeah, baby.” He moans as I work the button of his shorts apart.

After a little awkward maneuvering, I get him out of his boxer briefs. I work the seatbelt around my shoulders, keeping it across my lap and perching my mouth in front of his thick shaft. I wrap my fingers delicately around it, pumping the velvet skin and watching as a bead appears at his slit. My tongue licks at it, savoring the salty pleasure. Brady’s hand comes between my shoulder blades like he’s bracing himself for what is next. I kiss his tip the leisurely part my lips for pull him into my mouth. The passionate sigh he releases has anticipating tightening my inner core.

“Was it this good?” I ask him before taking him all the way into my mouth. I let him thrust deeper, nudging down my throat.

“No.” He admits. “It’s better now that you’re my wife.” I smile around him, then grip the base of his shaft with my hand. When my mouth and hand begin to work together, Brady groans deeply. His breathing increases and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. He presses into my back, encouraging me deeper. I do, then revel in the tortured sounds coming from his mouth. I feel the car stop, sensing we are just about to turn left into our neighborhood. “Go faster until the light turns green.” He begs. I comply, working him over quickly- sucking, licking, and squeezing. “Fuuuuuck.” He moans. A car honks behind us. Brady tugs my ponytail for me to stop. “No more until we are home. Damn, I hate saying that, but I won’t make it if you keep going.”

I pop back up, shoulders rolled back like a queen while wiping at my mouth. Brady’s hand moves to between my legs, feeling the heat radiating. He works his fingers in deeper as I spread wider for him. I grip his wrist as he teases me with the tips of his fingers, not able to get the movement he wants through my Lulu’s.

“Hold on a bit longer, babe.” He says as he turns onto our street.

The garage door is barely open enough for the car to clear. I cringe, expecting Brady to hit it and breathe a sigh of relief when he doesn’t. When the car is in park, he pushes the button again to close. I shove my door open, meeting him on the outside. Our hands grope each other greedily. He works us backwards towards the door. He presses me hard against the wood, wrapping my knee around his waist to grind into my folds.

I reach behind me, twisting the knob so we crash into the mudroom. Brady spins us, then pulls me towards the built in oak, cubbies.

“Come here.” He demands, sitting in the middle of the built ins. I laugh, thinking of how we built these slots for our future children to have a place for their little coats and shoes.

Brady’s shorts drop to his ankles. I work myself to straddle his lap, more than ready for him to be stuffed inside of me. I grip his rigid cock so I can slide down. I glide down him, settling my thighs against his. I moan, accepting his immediate thrusting up into me. I’m so wet, him so rigid, that the feelings are electing profound moans from us both.

“Good God.” He pants, looking up into my face as I ride him. He shoves my shirt up, pulling my sports bra down to reveal my nipple. I sob out in pleasure as he works the bud with his tongue. I reach up, gripping the metal hooks and adjusting my angle on him.

“Yes. Oh my god, yes.” I laugh incredulously at how unbelievable it feels. I can already feel my orgasm torturing me for release. “Babe.” I warn him.

“Mmm, you’re so beautiful fucking me like this.” He insists between tugs on my nipple.

“I’m coming.” I tell him. He keeps the exact tempo I need, keeping my nipple flush against his tongue as he wiggles me to my explosive orgasm. “Fu-fuck yes.” I wail, gripping the back of his neck, my fresh manicure digging into his tan skin. “Shit.” I sob to him as my inner muscles clench tightly around him.

“God damn.” He moves his hand to the small of my back, working my hips into him until he fills me. I rut against him to help him finish completely, then collapse against his chest.

“So our least favorite kid gets this one?” He jokes of the cubbies.

“That’s mean…” I trail off, hot breath dancing against his t-shirt.

“Fair… maybe the one we just made then.” I smile against his skin.

“So we are trying now?”

“I mean, you threw your birth control out of the car last night on the way home from dinner?”

“What!” I exclaim, shocked.

“Yeah, you were like… I’m ready Brady!” He mocks me with a high voice. His hand tosses over his shoulder.

“What the…” I trail off, not remembering that. “Stop letting me drink Palomas.”

“I mean, I just came in you unprotected so, I’ve done what I can on that for nine months.”

“Yeah… then I guess we are trying. Thanks drunk me.” I giggle, placing our lips together. Brady gently lifts me. I wince a bit as he slides out, my folds feeling used and a bit raw.

“Okay?” He asks me, searching my face.

“Way better than okay.” I assure him.

“You ready for phase two?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Trashy TV, couch cuddles, and take out- coming right up.”

It’s finally confirmed, I think to myself as Brady exits the mudroom to get phase 2 prepared. Being married to Brady Skjei is heaven on earth.

#Brady skjei #Brady Skjei fan fiction #Brady Skjei smut #Carolina hurricanes #hockey writing #NHL fan fiction #writing request #my writing

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vmlnrz · 1 year

Text

H.R

suggestive

just gross and kissing

Not speaking in the fear of making the situation worse. It's quiet. It's awkward. It's late and both were tired. There was not any kind of substance in your systems to blame it on subconsciousness. But on the raging hormones. Sleepiness felt heavy but Rindou wanted to waste no longer. It was final.

You're situated on his bed, he's in front of you. Your butt rested on your heels, he seated cross-legged.

The silence was lengthy enough, Rindou believed it was about time you two do something. He calls your name so softly, hesitating just a little as he leans in. He's eager. You mimic his actions— moving forward just as hesitantly. Please. He begs the time to not give any interruptions again, leaning in dangerously slow.

Exactly three- four- FIVE seconds. His lips had touched yours.

...that wasn't it.

He hurriedly places lips on yours again. A little longer than the first time, apologizing later for the sudden action.

No motion of the lips, they were just long, dry pecks.

Hands just as awkward as the kisses. You fiddle with yours, his are sweaty as he wipes them on his pants.

The third time he kissed you, he pleaded the time for it to go well. But what would the time even do about it? It did, however, went better. At least better than the previous two attempts. Or not. Two different beliefs differentiated him and you.

Both moving the lips together, and gosh, they still being so out of place.

Faster. A say from his left shoulder ordered. Steady. He listened to the one on the right instead.

Suddenly a reminder— the condition of the hands being so damn clumsy was acknowledged. Taking yours in his, he knew you could sense them getting sweaty.

The sounds in the room were of nothing but that little noise of AC and the smacks of the lips— making you so embarrassed.

It wasn't dry kissing this time, the motion, of course, made it sloppy due to the saliva and the fact that Rindou had licked his lips before to match your gloss.

It wasn't getting any better yet Rindou was so eager, not listening from the right shoulder anymore. He did a mistake, deciding to make use of his tongue so early. A big big mistake. The moment he thinks he could just sweep his tongue in your mouth, he wasn't thinking of the lack of oxygen. When his tongue brushed past your lips and about to get into action, the two of you violently parted away, falling on your backs on the bed.

Loud and audible pants from both of you, not bothering to have any other thought till both calmed down. It hasn't been long and the aggressive gasps for air died out. He sits up on his bed, you do too. He sees the raging blush on your face and doesn't need a mirror to know that he was in the same state.

...so what now?

Would the two of you just leave the situation be as if nothing happened? He's definitely not taking that option.

Was there some aftercare after only kissing? Even if there's no written rule, he can still provide for you. The flashbacks, however— of just seconds ago made him change plans. Though not perfect, or even close to ‘not bad’ he already craved more for the feeling of his lips on yours. And the embarrassing sounds of kissing? Embarrassing to you but to him, they were way too erotic.

He calls your name, desperation filled in his voice. “One more time, please?”

He holds onto your shoulders this time, hungrily diving in. Perhaps he was too fast, causing your noses to bump.

He's such a bad kisser, but you're too. Both can work it out. He thinks. And you do too. A belief to link him and you.

After another bad kiss, he pulls away for a second before tilting his head more and connecting again. He's taking control but you're not informed about anything. Oh right, the awkward hands again. He has his busy on your shoulders. Busy pulling you closer. What about you? What can you do? No, don't fiddle with your fingers.

Leaning in further if even possible, you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

It's better, even if little, progress is progress. Maybe.

He made the same mistake again and pushed his tongue past your lips only for that to happen again. The two of you violently pulled away, laying tired on the bed.

Rindou, however, kept getting more shameless. This time, hovering above you. You say his name in shock and surprise, and he didn't even let you catch your breath. “Please, it'll be better this time."

It took him everything to not repeat the same mistake. This time, he starts slow— gentle and delicate. This time, he actually feels like he's in charge— with the way he pinned your hands beside your head and don't worry about any awkwardness between them.

Pulling away— even for a mere second was a challenge for him as tilts to kiss deeper. This was ok, there would still be room to breathe. Truth be told, the kiss was still away— or at least almost touching to ‘not bad’. It's like the time tells him to not to do the same mistake again. Pulling away for a second was a big deal for him already. But oh well, he's gonna do it ain't he?

He did.

That's that. That night was the most him and you have gone far. After all, both are just inexperienced high schoolers. How many times did he begged for one more? How many kisses did you share? He doesn't count. He can't. Did they go well at least? He believed one more time would've gone better if it weren't for the interruptions. Numerous texts from your parents and older siblings. The voice from his right shoulder and his brother barging into the room were to blame. He believed so. The facts didn't matter to him.

Maybe relaxing to the chill beats would clear his mind. It didn't. It backfired. The music went from calmer tunes to head banging ones. He blames it on the deadlines, on the works he has yet to wrap up. On the little red fella on his left shoulder who loved every reaction he got from Rindou. He blamed it on last night. On the interruption, on the voice from right shoulder and his brother for scolding Rindou for having a girl over till late. He believed they were to blame— and not himself for having an unorganized playlist as he lets his anger get carried by the angsty melodies. Whatever. The facts did not matter to him.

Music wasn't enough. He needs to kill someone.

Maybe he'll go around beating up people.

Don't even get started on the dramatics. How he got up from his bed, the bgm canceled out the cringe. He made his way to his door, ready to have a moment, thinking he's the shit. Only for him to get his mind blank as he opens the door.

You had your fist up, ready to knock on his door, him opening it at the same time, coincidentally. The other hand held a tiffin box with chopped slices of fruits.

"Rin-"

You stumbled and muffled. That little red devil had managed to say something and provoked him. Provoked Rindou to kiss you. Quicker. Harder. Nothing like gentle. Nothing like delicate. Teeth biting down your lower lip, licking it after. "Faster," his voice with a mixture of begging and commanding. Hums and muffles, little pants and smacks. They embarrassed you tho you could do nothing but submit.

He pulled you closer and closer. You dropped the tiffin, hands stumbling in the subconscious.

He bit your lip again, harder this time. Like he had no time to waste, his tongue was pushed into your mouth. Caressed with yours, wandering in your mouth, doing whatever he desired. He takes dominance. He keeps going for a while.

That's till you place your hand on his shoulder which you thought felt like nothing to him. But it did, and he halts. Pulling apart, butterflies flood his stomach as the string of saliva parts along.

"Hey..." he lets you out from his hold, "You alright?" he asks, genuinely as he sees your state.

"Yeah," your tone is kiddish, your eyes are hazy. Your legs mimic the subconsciousness of your hands as they stumble.

"Oi," he holds you before you fall, arms wrapped around your waist as he calls your name. The devil on the left shoulder leaving the next part to the one on the right.

"You just surprised me," you laugh as you admit. Eyes tightly closed, standing up straight as you maintain a distance before opening and Rindou swore he fell in love all over. Your smile accompanied and the butterflies had a party of their own in his tummy. He wanted to ask if this time— did he kiss you right? But you're in front of him, blushy and giddy— already gave him the answer.

"Wha's going on?" A sleepy voice made you both look at it's source: Ran. He mumbled along something in sleepiness, you couldn't quite catch. Simply picking up the tiffin box before leaving the scene.

And Rindou laughs. Thanking the time for no interruptions.

#rindou x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #haitani rindou #tr x reader #tokyo revengers

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lunamaraproject · 3 months

Text

LUNAMARA: Fragments [4]

🐴

“Touch it.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re being a baby. Just touch it!”

“I’m going to lose my fingers! Its head is bigger than my whole arm!”

“It’s not going to want to eat you, it’s vegetarian! You heard the teacher!”

“I don’t know what that means, Cas!”

Before Cas can answer Felix, the creature next to him snorts another hot burst of air into his hair, ruffling it and startling a laugh out of him, and a shriek from Felix. Cas doesn’t see what the problem is. The teacher said that as long as you didn’t stand directly behind the creature and spook it, nothing bad would happen.

“Humans ride on these things!” he reassures him. “Look, it’s friendly, you overgrown mote, it just breathed on you. Vegetarian means it only eats plants. You know what a plant is, don’t you?”

The sour look that Felix gives him, half hidden behind a hay bale, could easily wither the oldest oak tree. “I’m not stupid Cas.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Cas teases, grinning as he watches the glow rise in Felix’s ears.

“I’m going to bite you, if you keep talking like that,” Felix threatens, still very much glued to the hay and not threatening in the slightest, especially since Cas grew half a head taller than him 2 years ago.

“You’ll chip your little soft teeth.”

“I’m not soft!!”

“Then come and touch the horse!”

Cas watches Felix fight an internal war with himself. Admit that he’s soft and would chip if a branch hit him, or pull himself together and come touch the earth creature. It’s not like Cas means to be mean - rather, he thinks Felix’s fear is based entirely on not trying, and Cas hates to roll over and give up on anything. Seeing other people do it, honestly, pisses him off.

His mother would give him a glowing hide for swearing, even in his head. But she’s up on Lunamara, and he’s on the coolest field trip, and Felix is still acting like he’s 45 not 90, so he has other priorities.

Finally, movement. Felix edges out from behind the hay bale, practically hugging the side of it still, his pin-straight amber hair falling forward as he ducks his head. Cas has always swallowed his jealousy at how pretty it is, especially compared to his own, dark and fairly thin locks. Maybe the horse will think it’s like those karots it eats. That would definitely set back Felix’s progress, but also, it’d be really funny, and therefore worth every additional hour he’d have to spend hyping him up again.

Once his friend is within range, Felix clings to Cas’ arm and stares up at the horse. The enormous creature stares back down its long snout, its dark eyes and long lashes blinking slowly at them both. There are no horses on Lunamara, of course. The air is thinner up there, and they wouldn’t survive - really, only certain kinds of birds can manage it, and not for long.

A shame. He’d have loved to prank Felix by putting one in his room.

He almost misses the moment when it happens, but in a sudden burst of bravery, Felix holds out a shaking hand towards the horse’s long snout. After a beat of curiosity, the horse gently nudges into his fingers, making Felix jump and nearly stand on Cas’ toe. He lets him off for it, because this time, he’s won.

“See?” he says lowly. “And you didn’t lose any fingers.”

“Yet,” Felix mutters, but there’s a growing light in his eyes, a fascination forming with the softness of the creature’s skin, the place where hair transitions in, the restrained power in how it moves. “Cas.”

“Mmhmm?”

“Thanks,” and he’s smiling, that infuriating smile where Cas knows that later, he’ll look up every scrap of information about horses, declare them one of his new favourite things, and become absolutely insufferable about them for the following half a decade.

Still. Worth it.

“Any time, softie.”

“Hey!”

🌗