#10 Degrees & Getting Colder | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lucrativesoul · 1 year ago

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Roadstop

summary: your car breaks down on a deserted road at midnight. you have no signal, it’s getting colder, and you are five miles away from help; you’re stranded. a stranger offers his help to you, and you find a way to pass the time.

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count: 7.8k

warnings: smut, oral (male recieving), bondage (very softcore), don’t trust strangers this much

a/n: i kind of hate this title and i also don’t love this one but I hope i made it work. going to immediately start one that i’m actually into. this one’s shorter than the last one, but they might all fall around the same word count from now on. again, i can’t stress how thankful i am for the love on ‘the assistant’ as well as my headcanon blurbs, 900+ notes on the fic and 300+ on the headcanons, you guys are too nice. i can’t wait to come back soon with the next fic! enjoy :3

You thought back for a brief second, clearing your head as best you could to gauge your current situation.

In the backseat of a tinted SUV, you were straddled over a thick set of thighs, that of which belonged to a man twice your build, who was bound at the wrists in front of him. The waistband of his jeans were dangerously low and his shirt was somewhere in the front seat. His breathing was shaky and he was looking at you with hooded eyelids, loving every moment of this situation.

What was the catalyst to this exact interaction? Let’s see…

–

Earlier

As badly as you wanted to scream, to cry, to blame everyone else but yourself, this was all on you, and you knew it. There were plenty of ways to avoid this situation.

Your car was toast. Literally. The steam was coming out in soft puffs, and you were thanking every deity up there that it was only steam and not smoke, because it was dead winter, too cold for even snow to fall, and you did not want to get out of your car. How can a car even overheat in 10 degree weather?

The road trip back home was close to three hours and you were nearing the second one when a light started flashing on your dashboard. Inclined to ignore it, but knowing the risks of doing so, you pulled over, hoping for a brief stop.

The road was dark. It made you a little cautious to step out, but this wasn't a common place for people to pull over, but you were unsure if you could make it the next five miles to the rest stop. It was only a two lane road, trees on both sides of you. The worst, you decided, was a deer deciding to dash out and body slam you. You should move quick enough to avoid that.

Looking behind to make sure no one was suddenly driving by, you briskly opened your door and walked to the front of the car. Finding the latch and pulling it aside, you lifted the hood, and a puff of metallic smelling steam hit your face. You backed up, letting it clear, before going in again. Well, you observed, the engine is definitely still there.

Shutting it and shuffling back to your car, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. Should you call a tow service? You didn't know where you were. Should you call the police? They would probably tell you to call the non-emergency line and then tell you to call a tow service. Should you call your friend? She would probably call you stupid, then tell you to call a tow service. That one was the most comfortable, though.

It was, after all, her fault you were here. It’s easy enough to cast the blame on the friend that moved this far away that you had to plan out a whole weekend just to hang out. But, once again, it was on you for deciding to leave this late.

She answered after one ring. “Hey, I’m in trouble.”

“Of course you are. What happened now?” She didn’t sound incredibly concerned.

“I don’t know. I think my car’s overheating. I’m scared to keep driving it.”

She gasped. “It’s only been like… an hour and a half? You’re probably in the woods.”

“If darkness and trees means woods then yes, that’s precisely where I am.”

“You need to get a tow, or something.” Knew it. “Do you see mile markers?”

You leaned forward in your seat, straining to see something that isn’t there. “No, I can’t see. I don't remember passing any either. I’m a few miles away from a rest stop, but, I really don’t–”

Dial tone.

Pulling your phone away from your ear to look at the screen, you wanted to scream even more now. “Fuck!” You shouted out to nobody. No service. You wasted your last few moments of contact, and now you had nothing.

You sat for a moment, stilling your beating heart and trying to think rationally. Walking was out of the question. You nearly froze just going to open the hood. You could wait for service to come back, probably in waves, you might lose a call again. It was the only choice. The call to 911 would be quick, and if you lost service, they would know where you are from pinging you, and if they couldn’t reach you again, they would come find you. It was the best you could hope for.

Settling back into your seat, the last few wisps of orange light disappearing behind the trees, you were ready to wait.

–

You dragged your hands up and down the man’s torso, watching his muscles constrict and hearing delicious whines pour from his lips. He threw his head back onto the seat behind him, unable to look away from your body for even a second, even to blink. You could see the way his jaw tensed and relaxed, you could tell he wanted to say something, but he obeyed you, and he didn’t say a word.

You knew he was staring at the way your body curved and dipped, the way your frame was visible as you had also taken your shirt off, left in only a bra and the jacket that he had put on over you. He was probably ready to cum untouched at just the idea of you wearing his jacket alone, nevermind with nothing on underneath.

Your fingers teased at the waistband of his pants, flitting your fingertips back and forth over the button of his jeans. You could see the way his erection was pressing hard through them, twitching ever so often as you kept your eyes on him. You, yourself, were desperate to pull it out and put your mouth on it, but you couldn’t let him see that.

“It’s tempting,” You whispered into the space between you two. “I want to take it right now,” He strained again, both his hard cock and his upper body, his arms slightly tugging at the restraints. “But I need you to beg for it…” You palmed his dick hard, and his lips parted in a moan. The sound made you even wetter than you already were. His hips bucked upward, moving the both of you, but with one steady hand to the chest, he was still.

You knew well enough that he could bust out of the restraints at any second, he was strong enough to do that and probably tie you up even more securely than you had tied him. But, the mere idea that he was sitting there, being a good boy for you and letting you have him as he was, well, that idea alone had you foaming at the mouth, wanting to take control of him.

This wasn’t the first time you were making someone sit still and be a good boy for you, but it was the first time that a man had you dizzy trying to enforce those rules in the first place.

“Tell me,” You spoke, a sultry look in your eyes, you leaned in just a tad to get in his face. “Do you need it?”

He sighed out as if he had been holding his breath. “Yes, please, I need it so bad…” He nearly tripped over his words trying to force them out, showing you how bad he needed you to touch him, to suck him off, to ride him. Yes, you needed it to, but you couldn’t give it to him without a little bit of teasing involved.

“Do you now…” Your hands wandered up his torso again, fingers gently wrapping around the base of his neck, now even squeezing, and he tipped his head back with a sigh. You peeled your hands off, tracing his shoulders, his biceps, his forearms, and settled your hands over his. “If you keep being good, you can be released and touch me.” You felt his muscles strain again. “Not yet, though.”

He swallowed with the implication. Moving your hips forward, you grinded down onto him, making him screw his eyes shut and groan. Your own heartbeat quickened at the action, and for your own sake as well, you were going to need to speed this up.

You leaned forward once more, mouth next to his ear, lips ghosting around the shell. “You’ll be my good boy and let me suck it, won’t you?”

A shrill whine, then, “Yes, yes, I’ll be your good boy, I promise, please, you can suck it. Please,” His voice was cutting in and out between a whisper and its full depth, you could tell he was worked up, and while you loved the chase of it all, you couldn’t help but to give in and treat yourself, as well.

Your hands fell to his jeans again, hovering over the button. You pressed a kiss into his jawline. “Good boy.”

–

Earlier

This was much more boring than you anticipated. You wanted to scroll through your phone so badly, but you knew you needed to conserve battery. There wasn’t much in the way of entertainment in your car, merely your overnight bag in the back with your clothes in it, your laptop buried at the bottom for work, and your water bottle which was almost empty now. You kept checking every 5 minutes for a service signal, watching as the percent in the corner slowly ticked down.

It was growing colder by the minute in your car, and you had a blanket over your lap trying to conserve what you could. You felt like you were trapped in the wild, stranded with no food, no communication, when realistically you were only a hair outside of the nearest civilization.

No one had driven by yet. It was odd for no one to be taking this road at this time, at least one or two people would be coming by, maybe even a freight truck, but so as your luck worked out, there was not a soul tonight.

You were getting tired now, but your nerves were too lit up to allow yourself to fall asleep. Resting your head back against the car seat, staring out into darkness, your mind began to wander.

How many deer were out in these woods right now? Probably none, with the way your eyes were fully adjusted to the darkness now, you could spot one a mile away. It would be the only movement. What was your friend doing? Was she still trying to call you? Clearly she hadn’t called anyone for help, as it’s been a rough 30 minutes since you lost service, and the nearest city was just outside of where you sat. They would have gotten there in 15 max. Was it possible to freeze to death in just a few hours within the confines of your car, even though you were nowhere near that point yet?

Just then, your head shot forward as you spotted light behind you. Finally, a person! You straightened out and pulled the blanket off of you, debating if you should step out or not. That would definitely get their attention, but what if they were in the right lane and they hit you? Surely there would be no point in waiting for signal after that.

You didn’t even need to make a decision, as you put your hand on the door handle to step out into the brisk air, the headlights suddenly swerved and became aligned with you. They grew bigger and bigger, you were sure they were going to hit you, but they stopped.

You stared, scared, but knew this was your only shot at help. You stepped out.

The car that pulled up behind you stayed running, lights still shining, and you squinted to see past them. It looked like an SUV, much bigger than your own sedan, and could definitely do this drive without overheating no problem.

The driver’s side door opened, but you only saw the silhouette of it, still trying to block the headlights. You lifted your hand to your eyes to do so, and you saw a man get out. Ideally, for safety, you would have wanted a woman, but you couldn’t be picky when this was the first person you saw for almost an hour.

He walked over to you, and placed himself in front of the headlight so you could see him. Now, backlit, you could see the bulky build of a man, donned in a leather jacket with a fur collar, long hair falling down to his cheekbones, his breaths rolling off in slow puffs. He stood a good distance away from you, probably aware of how you might be feeling in this situation.

“You need help?” No shit, you wanted to answer, but couldn’t choke the words up.

“Uh, yeah, I got stuck.” You turned briefly to look at the car. “It overheated. I lost signal to call for help.”

The man nodded, walking around you and over to the hood of your car. He bent over and lifted it, messing around in there for a few seconds. You took one step closer to him, hugging yourself for warmth, now missing the inside of your car.

He shut it suddenly and walked back over. “You probably just have no antifreeze left. I don’t have any in my car, though. Do you know if you happen to have any?”

You stood staring at him for another second. “I’m gonna guess no, considering I’m not totally sure what you mean.” You could see him clearly now, standing in front of his headlights. His face was covered in dark shadows from his hair and the contours of his face, his deep brow casting darkness into his eyes, but you could still see they were blue. He had on a dark t-shirt, and it didn’t leave much to the imagination to picture the figure underneath. You met his eyes again.

He just nodded. “That’s alright. Not something you tend to prepare for.” He walked closer to you, but you stood your ground and let him approach you. “Want to come down the road with me to get some? There’s a 24/7 convenience just a few miles away. I can have you out of here within the hour.” You said nothing. You weren’t sure if you entirely wanted to do that, but you also didn’t want him to not come back at all. As if sensing your inner turmoil, he stuck his hand out towards you. “Leon Kennedy. I work for the state. I’m on the way home from a detail.”

You slowly extended your own hand, telling him your name. His hand was warm. You didn’t want to let go. “Detail? Are you a cop?”

He shrugged. “Sort of. I don’t want to leave you here. You should warm up.” You looked back at his car, still running, positive that the heat was blasting, and you gave in.

“Okay. But don’t think about trying anything. I can put up a hell of a fight, you know.”

He laughed. “You have my word.”

You walked around to the passengers side and hopped in, hoisting yourself up into the surprisingly high cabin. You looked at the dash as he settled in, getting comfortable with the space. This was a much newer car than you were used to.

His phone was connected to the bluetooth, music rumbling quietly out of the speakers. Deftones. Maybe I can trust him for now.

You subconsciously settled into the seat, the warmth enveloping you. The ride was much smoother than your own car, and you knew you weren’t going to stop the comparisons until this experience was over. You kept an eye to the left of you, still needing to be alert, you were in a stranger's car after all, even though you knew his name and job, that didn’t mean anything.

You saw him sneak a glance over at you, and you shot your eyes back down to the display on the dashboard.

“You like them?” He hit a button on the steering wheel and turned the volume up a few notches. You could still hear him clearly.

“Of course.” You let the silence hang for a second. Testing the waters, “If it was country, I might have had to pull a tuck and roll.”

He barked another laugh. At least he wasn’t stoic. “You’re lucky you didn’t catch me on a Wednesday, then.” You giggled. After saying nothing else, he continued. “What brought you to this position anyways?”

You sighed. “One of my good friends lives out here, about an hour away or so. I was on my way home. I know I shouldn’t have left this late, but in my defense, I didn;t know my car was going to overheat, so…”

He hummed. “That’s not your fault. It happens. Can’t prepare for those things, again.”

You looked out the window to the pitch black nothingness as you rode past. You looked back over at him, he had his right forearm on the console while his left hand steered. “You seemed too prepared to stop, though. What if I killed you?”

His mouth quirked, and you couldn’t help but repeat it. “I could handle it if you tried to.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I could have surprised you. I’m stronger than I look. Men love to doubt the ones that are smaller than them.”

The smile on his face didn’t falter. “And what are you capable of against a man like me, then?”

“I don’t think you want to find out. I’m dominating, you know.” Wait… what? You truly didn’t mean it to sound like that, but you couldn’t suck the words back up. You just furrowed your brows in frustration at yourself, and blamed the lack of sleep, the cold, your aggravation, whatever you could. Regardless of the words you couldn’t take back, Leon didn’t stop smiling. He turned his head a degree in your direction, and you could still see him out of your peripheral.

A few minutes later, the convenience came into view and he pulled into the lot. You squinted at the bright lights of the parking lot.

“Hang tight, I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

You only nodded, watching him stalk away into the building. You decided, seeing his full body in the lights, if you had met him under any other circumstances, you wouldn’t peg him as the helpful type of guy. His gait was strong, like it said Don’t fuck with me, or else. It almost made you giddy, knowing that you were the one being helped when he wouldn’t have otherwise. Like, in a romance book, when the bad boy doesn’t like anyone, but likes you.

It wasn’t as uncomfortable as you had thought it would be. Maybe he was lightening up his personality so he wouldn’t scare you on purpose. If he really was just a helpful guy, the last thing he would want is to scare a young girl in the middle of nowhere at midnight.

You were getting comfortable in the seat now, the heat wrapping around you, making you dread having to go back out into your cold car. You sighed even harder when you remembered that you still had a long ride to go before you could even go to bed.

Leon walked out of the store and back to the car, bottle of antifreeze in hand, and you tensed up when the cold air hit your skin as he opened the door.

He watched you as he lowered himself into the seat. “I didn’t mean it literally. You could have moved.”

You shrugged with a smile as he closed the door again. “I didn’t need to.”

After a few minutes of chatting and listening to music, you arrived back at your car after needing to loop around to get back onto the right side of the road. You sighed and hit your head back against the seat of the car.

“What’s the sigh for? You get to go now.” Leon unblocked his seatbelt and took the bottle from where he left it on the console.

“Yeah, but it’s cold. I don’t want to get out.”

Leon grinned softly. “So don’t. I’ll be right back.”

You sat and soaked up the heat while he went back over to your car, popped the hood, and disappeared behind it for a few minutes. You could only wonder how cold he must have been right now. Probably not very, maybe only his hands and neck, that jacket looks warm enough. You were stupid to only put a zip up on.

You looked down at your lap, then your gaze wandered to the interior of the car. It was very clean here. Leon did seem like the type to want to take care of his vehicle, and you were afraid to make any sort of move in case you put dirt on anything.

The backseat was empty, not even an extra piece of clothing (which there was plenty of in your own backseat), and you wondered how it was even possible for someone to be this neat.

You looked back through the windshield to see that Leon was still working in your hood. Your eyes fell lower to the glove compartment.

Realistically, this wouldn’t be the worst thing you could do right now, since you didn’t know Leon, and you could pass it off by wanting to assure yourself that you were safe, but at the same time, you felt guilty even thinking about it, since Leon had been nothing but nice to you so far. He trusted you enough to leave you alone in his pristine car while he helped you out.

That alone made you shift your gaze back up, pushed the thought of snooping down, and settled in to see Leon walking back to his car.

“Alright, you should be all set now. Hopefully it doesn’t happen again for another long while.” He shut the door next to him, and you gazed out at your car, making no moves.

“How much?” You rolled your head over to look at him.

“Huh?” He furrowed his brow.

“The antifreeze. How much was it?”

He breathed out a laugh, not moving much. “I don’t want your money.”

You shrugged. “You didn’t need to do this for me, this is the least I could do for your help.”

Leon simply looked at you. “I stopped because I wanted to help. I don’t want your money.”

You stared at him. His eyes were half lidded, a small smile was gracing his features. He was lit up from the light of his display screen, still softly playing Deftones. You could see the texture of his face, his lips, his hair. He was unmoving under the scrutiny of your gaze; yet so were you.

“I can put up a fight. I’ll make you take it.”

His smile grew. “So the legend goes, as you’ve told me.” He moved his right arm to come back and rest on the console in between you two. “I’m not going to accept it, though.”

“So, what? Am I gonna have to force you to take it? Cause I’m not leaving until you do.” You settled right back into the seat. Leon kept smiling at you. “I’m defiant. And I’ll get my way. If I have to slap you around to take it.” Leon hummed and quirked an eyebrow at your words. It only added fuel to your confidence fire. “Even if I have to tie you down to prevent you from fighting.”

You looked at him with your eyebrows raised, showing you meant business, but he remained still. “Is that so?” You nodded. You saw him tighten his grip around the steering wheel, but the action didn’t frighten you. You could hear in his tone that he was mostly relaxed. You almost felt bad for being like this– it was late at night and he, too, was on his way home, but you simply couldn’t let this good deed go unrewarded.

“Open that.” His voice cut through your thoughts, his tone light, but his voice deep. You met his eyes to see where he was looking, which was in the direction of the glove compartment. See, you told yourself, good karma can aid curiosity. You looked at it and hesitated a moment, trying to scan your brain as quickly as possible to see if this would be a trick. After a few seconds, when you thought of nothing, you reached over.

Tumbling forward as soon as you swung the compartment open was a small black bag, maybe about the size of a water bottle. It stopped on the door itself, and you made no move to grab it. You simply looked over at Leon.

He was watching you intensely, his smile had disappeared, but his look was not stern or angry. It made your stomach twist with… something, but what exactly, you couldn’t tell. You slowly swung your gaze back over to it.

“I hope those weren’t empty threats you were throwing at me.” You kept your eyes on the bag, but the pieces started falling in place around you. In a whisper, barely loud enough for you to hear, Leon said, “Can’t you show me what you are capable of?”

Ice and fire ran through your veins simultaneously as you reached out to grab the bag, noticing upon touching it that it was smooth, silky. Holding it in your hands, you rotated it to find the opening. You could feel Leon staring at you.

Finding the opening and flipping it downwards, you held onto the bag as you dumped the contents into your hands. A tightly wound bundle of black rope fell out.

You couldn’t form words for a minute, struggling to find air in your lungs. The rope was just as soft as the bag was, and you knew exactly why, exactly what the use intended for this was. You turned your head slowly to look over at Leon again. His head had rolled back to rest on the back of the car seat, but his gaze never left yours.

You found the energy to speak. “You come prepared for these types of situations?”

A slow smile blossomed on his features again. “I don’t usually need it. I guess, I never find myself wanting to use it.” He turned his head, looking back at the dash now, almost embarrassed at his words. A smirk was fighting its way through on your features. He licked his lips, then turned back to you. “I think now… maybe I do.”

You breathed a laugh, and turned the bundle over in your hands. “How am I going to hold up to my word if you want to use this on me?”

Leon leaned forward just a tad, looking you deep in the eyes. The blue light coming off of the digital display screen lit up his face, and though color was distorted, his cheeks had more hue to them.

“I don’t want to tie you up…” You tilted your head up at the sudden realization. You held eye contact.

“A big man like you? I didn’t imagine you’d be wanting me to do that to you…” You spoke slowly, not trying to give the impression that you were against the idea. Because, truly, you weren’t, at all. The idea of having him bound for you made your lungs cut the air supply short and had your knees weak. The power you felt sitting in this seat was immeasurable, hearing that the man who was twice your size wanted you to remove his sense of control, well, it had you thrumming with anticipation.

Leon huffed a laugh. He looked down, obviously slightly ashamed at having admitted this. “Well, you haven’t had much time to get to know me.”

You shifted in your seat, turning to him, bending slightly to get him to look into your eyes again. “So tell me, then. I have the time to listen.”

He attempted a shrug, and leaned back at the same time so you could see his face clearer now. Some of his hair was covering his eyes, but you left it, though you did think about moving it for him. “I’m 27, I used to be a cop, still affiliated though, I do some late night stuff at the station…” He looked over. “I did just want to help you. Even if there was no one in the car, I probably would have stopped anyway.” You nodded, listening to every word. “I…” He trailed off, looking for the words to say. “I don’t… do much else. I’m not that interesting.”

“You have no girlfriend or wife?” You whispered, and though you knew, hoped, the answer would be no, you wanted to know why he thought the answer was no.

He shook his head, as predicted. “I don’t seem to have luck.” He laughed lowly, almost in a self-deprecating manor.

“Well, I hope this isn’t always how you try to pick up women, it’s kind of scary, you know.” You laughed, and he smiled with you.

“I never particularly bothered to go looking. I just figured they would come around.”

“You can’t always bet on fate like that, it might not get you anywhere.” You shrugged.

He raised an eyebrow. “It did tonight, though.”

You nodded, seeing the irony in the night. After a second of silence, you slightly shifted your position again. “So, now what? A man like you has me in your car, holding rope, that you already had in here, by the way, and you’re telling me you want me to use it to show you what I’m capable of.”

He shrugged and leaned back, breaking eye contact for a moment. A small smile played on his lips. “Well…” He sighed. “I think it will keep you warmer than you would be in your car.”

The two of you migrated to the backseat without another word. Something shifted in the air, some silent agreement had settled in between you two, and the moment the doors shut behind you, mouths on one another, heat rising, hands slithering in between, leaving no inch of skin left untouched. Leon was quick to snake his warm hands up your shirt and hike it over your head, but you let him, followed quickly by his own. His lips were soft and warm, the kiss became sloppy, greedy, you would have succumbed to it then and there if there wasn’t a promise to uphold.

You raked your hand through his hair, soft as silk, and gripped at the base of his head, making him moan into the kiss. The hand he placed on your waist gripped the flesh, and with one swift movement, you swung your leg over his to straddle him. It was already like he was at your mercy before you even took anything away from him, and it only made him look all the more desperate for you.

The kiss broke, and for a second the two of you were just staring at each other. You watched the rise and fall of his chest, which you had discovered with your hands before even seeing it, that it was incredibly toned, and you almost didn’t even want to stop touching him. HIs hands rested on your hips, holding you in place on top of him, eyes full of lust.

He shook his head slowly, forming a thought. “Are you sure you weren’t in charge of fate to make me find you tonight?”

You grinned, running your hands up his torso, you just couldn’t stop yourself. “If I was, don’t you think I would have made it a little more convenient for us?”

He sighed at your touch, head rolling backwards, closing his eyes. After a low hum of satisfaction, he replied. “I guess so… What about fate the second time around?” Your hands slid up to his shoulders, feeling the texture underneath your palms, all of the skin and bone and muscle. You pushed yourself down into his lap, already feeling his hardening dick through his jeans, making him groan louder, and you sigh in relief.

“We haven’t even gotten started and you are already thinking of round two…” You leaned in, teasing a breath along his neck, then gently licking on his jawline. The skin of your stomach felt the heat that he was producing, and you pressed your bodies together, the contact feeling like bliss.

“I already know I’ll need you again.” He said in a whisper, and the sheer intensity that it caused within you made you lean in and bite the tender skin under his jaw, and he moaned, gripping your waist even tighter.

Your hands kept running along his skin, desperate to get even more contact between you two. Your mind was getting foggy with desire, needing to be as close to Leon as possible, as much as the small space in his backseat would allow. His fingers were starting to dip below the waistline of your pants, and while you almost let him slide them past, you grabbed onto his hand and pulled it out, remembering the reason you were in the backseat in the first place.

“Don’t forget why we’re here…” You mumbled into his ear, where you were still pressed up against him. You heard him sigh, as well as felt it, and finally pushed yourself off of him.

He looked up at you from under his half-lidded eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do, then. I’ll do anything.” His voice was breathy and low, and his hands came down to rest on the top of your thigh. You sat up as straight as you could, feeling all of the control get handed over to you in that one second. Involuntarily, a chill ran through your body. Cold air had hit your heated skin as you parted, as well as the added sensations that Leon was contributing to. He pushed himself up, leaned past you to the front seat, one hand steadying you on your lower back. When he fell back, he put the shoulders of his jacket over you.

He sighed as he leaned back, examining your frame as it rested over him, straightening your posture as the warmth fell around you. “Looks better on you anyway…”

You stared at him for another moment before your brain kicked into action. “Hold your hands out,” You whispered, and he obeyed. You reached behind you and grabbed the bundle of rope. “You’ll behave if I tie you up like this?”

“Yes…” He breathed out, watching your hands as they wrapped and knotted the rope around his wrists, not too tight, but he couldn’t slip out of it too easily. You felt a surge of confidence at the mere premonition of you tying up a huge, muscled man, submitting to your dominance. You felt heat pool in between your legs as his head fell back, his chest flexed, and the feeling of his hard cock poking you through his pants. You were suddenly glad your car gave out on you on this random night.

This brings you to your current position. Everything playing an equal hand in getting this man in his own backseat underneath you, staring up with sinful eyes. You weren’t sure what to do first, you wanted to do everything to this man, and let him do everything to you.

He had already professed his need for you to take him in your mouth, and you were itching to keep teasing him, but as a reward for not leaving you stranded, you were going to play nice with him.

HIs breathing was ragged and his eyes were locked on you, not daring to look away as your hands snaked closer and closer to the button on his jeans. Your fingers flitted over the tent in his pants, the sensation barely registering with him, and he bucked his hips up, but you pressed them back down by his hips.

“Patience… patience baby…” You murmured, not looking up from where your hands were dancing around letting him loose. He whined, and the sound traveled straight to your core, making you all the more desperate. As a second reward for obeying your command, you pressed your palm fully into his hardened cock, and he groaned and threw his head back. You smirked in response, now needing the skin on skin contact.

Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper, and he lifted his hips when you pulled down his waistband of both his jeans and underwear. His erection sprang out, slapping his toned stomach, and you felt saliva pooling in the corners of your mouth, slick gathering in between your legs, and Leon was almost shaking with anticipation.

You wrapped a delicate hand around his dick and he whined again, his chest shuddering with shallow breaths, sighing out profanities at the contact. He was so warm and hard in your hand, and even just the ginger strokes you were delivering had him crumbling under you.

The other hand that wasn't wrapped around him came up to brace yourself on his chest, and his skin matched the temperature of his throbbing girth. His tip was leaking profusely, and you brought your thumb up to press through it and spread it, which elicited another whimper from within him. The friction was dry, and you were sure it didn't feel the best for Leon, but there were no signs of pain in his expression, and if you kept this up long enough, he might cum from this alone.

He was of average length, but you were never one to complain, especially not in a situation like this, and it was a benefit when the attempt to deepthroat him came along, knowing it would make it easier. You couldn’t wait any longer, and even though watching him writhe under you was more pleasure than you expected, you needed more.

You leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his neck, coated in a thin layer of sweat. You made a brief note of how hot it was in the car now, probably all from him, and though it was completely dark outside, you were sure the windows were foggy. He sighed at your lips on his skin.

“Thank you for being so good to me,” You spoke softly to him, and you lifted your head to press your lips together, which he hungrily accepted. Your body fell forward slightly, your hand still balancing on his hard chest, and you could feel his arms in between the both of you, but he was not protesting.

You pulled away, but hovered over his face and pressed your foreheads together. He whispered, “Need you so bad…” heavily breathing onto your lips. You grinned, seeing he was quickly reaching the brink of his patience.

“I got you baby,” Another quick kiss, but you pulled away before he could deepen it. “You’re being a good boy for me.” He quietly moaned at the praise, and let you remove yourself from on top of him. You hopped off his lap and sunk to your knees in between his legs, looking up once last time to see his pretty face before ducking your head, and licking a thick stripe up the length of his cock.

His groan was louder than it had been before, and you felt his whole body shudder with his breaths. The saliva that had been gathering in your mouth coated him easily, and when your tongue met the tip, with a swipe to collect the precum (which resulted in another sharp whine), you let all of your spit pour over your lips and leak down the sides, which you hastily swept up with your hand, and continued to pump his dick with.

Every breath that he released was paired with some sort of noise, whether it be a groan, a whine, a whimper, anything that you were doing to him right now was causing him to quickly become unwound, and just seeing him fall apart under your hands was causing your strokes to become harder, quicker, and you stopped refusing him to buck his hips in your hand because you loved seeing how desperate he was becoming. You could see the veins in his forearms and biceps, the flexing of his arms against the rope around his wrists, and it made you weaker to know he was the only person keeping him within those restraints, and he could flip the power dynamic at any moment if he wanted to. But, he didn’t, and he let himself be dominated.

With another lick from base to tip, your lips closed over his head, our tongue dipped and swirled around the soft skin, the tangy salt of his precum coating your tastebuds, and at once, you took his entirety into your mouth. A rough gasp came from Leon as you swallowed him whole, pressing your tongue against the underside of his cock, feeling every ridge and bump. Your hand continued to work below where you could reach, giving gentle squeezes, and your other hand occasionally worked his balls, causing him to throw his head back every few seconds.

You were reveling in his taste at this moment, every bead of precum that spurted out of his tip was lapped up instantly, mixing in with your spit as you took him in your mouth, your tongue studying and memorizing his shape and size. You sucked him down like it was your last moment to ever be with him, hoping you would be able to find yourself in this position with him again.

“Fuck… fuck, you feel so good…” Leon couldn’t contain the words spilling out of his mouth, he was losing sanity it seemed with every movement you made with your tongue, every stroke your hand delivered, and every time you opened your throat to shove him as far back as you could. He would whimper every time you stifled a gag at trying to deepthroat his length, loving the way you worked past pain just to have more of him.

You could feel so much heat and wetness within yourself, and as much as you wanted to relieve your own pressure, you knew you wouldn't be done with Leon after you made him cum.

After another hit to the back of the throat with his tip, you heard him whine out, “I’m so… I’m so close, fuck–” paired with more gasps and whimpers. His fists were balled up so tight, the rope was straining against his flexing, and his mouth hung open as he watched you take him all.

Your hand that wasn’t on his cock was gripping his thick thigh, feeling it twitch underneath your palm. You gripped it tighter, deciding against an urge to want to edge him, not able to fight your own need to taste him.

After another lick, you released him from your mouth and resorted to stroking him so you could talk and breathe for a moment. “How close are you, baby?” Your breathing was heavy, and you could feel the spit hanging off your lips, still connected in thin strings to his tip.

He gasped again at the feeling of cool air touching his wet dick. “So… so close,” He bucked his hips again into your hands and you let him, liking watching him chase his own release.

“Where do you want it, huh? I’ll let you decide.” You kept working his dick while he tried his hardest to contain himself.

He groaned, clearly struggling to speak through all of the sensations. “I… I, oh, god, anywhere…” His head was back against the seat again, and this time it seemed to stay there while you kept touching him. Underneath his arms, you could see his torso tensing and relaxing with the way his whole body was pulsing, and even through the darkness you could tell he was toned, insanely so, you could see the rigid outlines of ab muscles where his arms weren’t blocking them. Sharp lines contoured his hips where they dipped into his pelvis, akin to a rainbow with a pot of gold at the end that you currently had in your hands, dripping with precum and saliva. You couldn’t take it. You needed to see him blissed out.

You moved your hand back down to the base and planted your flat tongue on the underside of his cock, licking all the way up to the tip. “Come on, cum for me, I’ll let you…” With quick movements and the occasional lick to his tip, you brought him closer and closer to his release, and you could see it written all over his face whenever he put his head back up to look down at you. His brows were furrowed, his mouth open, and you could see the glint on his face from sweat.

“Shit, oh, fuck, I–I’m coming,--” Leon rasped out as much as he could through his thick breaths, body convulsing the second he hit the threshold of his release. You felt it the same time you saw it, his dick throbbed under your palm and a rope of hot white cum spurted upward, landing on his stomach, some on his hands, and yours. You hastily pressed your mouth to the tip, feeling it coat your tongue, the roof of your mouth, drip to the back of your throat. You kept your tongue pressed to the underside of the head, feeling that, too, pulse with his orgasm. He was groaning in tandem with this happening, and you lapped up everything he had to offer, the salty, hot, viscous liquid sitting heavy in your mouth. You choked back a gag with the swallow, but it made it down, and you cleaned your hand, his twitching dick, and wherever it landed on him by licking it up. He whimpered at the feeling of your tongue on his hands.

“You looked so good for me,” You whispered into the air as you slowly rose from your position, and hovered over him. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me like this…” You looked down at him, spent, panting, eyes lazily making eye contact with you, but you could see so much more in his gaze.

A second passed before either of you spoke again. Without moving too far, you brought a hand down to untie the rope, and his hands came to rest over your thigh once they were free. The rope lay discarded on the floor.

“We still have the rest of the night… don’t we?” Your stomach turned at his implication, he still wanted you, and he was still ready to keep going. Your hand came up to gently touch the side of his neck, thumb tracing the edge of his jawline.

“We have however long you want. I’m not done with you.”

He grinned, his eyes opened a little further this time, and his hands left your thighs to hold your face as he kissed you deeply, blissfully ignoring your phone incessantly ringing, abandoned in the front seat.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfiction #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 6 #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #fanfiction

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shippingmyworld · 5 months ago

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Youtuber!Danny AU

Don't think I have the creative energy to expand this brainworm into an actual fic so ya'll just have to read a wall of text instead.

After a few close encounters where Danny's halfa identity almost gets revealed, Sam suggests the trio start a Youtube channel where they go about investigating all the so called "Ghostly Encounters" around Amity Park. Their goal would be to debunk as many ghost sightings as possible and establish themselves as well-known ghost deniers. After a bit of debate they eventually settle on naming the channel Chasing Phantoms.

Tucker really gets into it and eventually becomes the face of the channel. With Sam's coaching he learns how to play devil's advocate extremely well and figures out exactly how to craft his questions to manipulate people's responses. This way they can make these supposed "witnesses" discredit themselves within just a few minutes; Tucker will make them get worked up, angry, and confused about what they saw and trick the witnesses into making contradicting statements. This way they can throw out the witness statements as shoddy evidence because they're nothing more than a stress-induced hallucinations brought about by a gas leak. (They accidentally lean into the gas leak story a little too much in their early days - Danny uses his ghost powers to safely break piping in the places they're investigate to create evidence to back up their claims - thus triggering a mild panic in the citizens of Amity Park because one town should really not be suffering from this many gas line breaks.)

Sam is the director and editor, and has them film everything like it's in the style of found footage (she got the idea after watching The Blair Witch Project). They’re constantly making the "Looks directly into the camera like they're on The Office" joke whenever they interview someone who claims to have been attacked by a ghost.

Danny is the cameraman for the channel, but never shows his face because every time they tried to filmed him, his eyes would flash green in the lens flare and cause them to have to scrap the footage. He's still pretty chatty and viewers latch onto his sassy and sarcastic nature. They love his one-liners and the top comments of each video are usually just a repost of something witty he said (Sam leans into it and start naming the videos after lines that Danny drops while filming). Fans of the channel are constantly asking him for a face-reveal in the comments section. In fact, there's a whole subset of viewers that are dedicated to figuring out what he looks like. They have a poor quality jpeg file that's passed around and updated whenever a glimpse of Danny's appearance is reflected in a puddle of water or broken glass (which means Sam has to comb over the videos about ten times before they post them to make sure she didn't miss anything while editing).

Any time Danny ends up fighting a ghost and there's a witness, the trio will break into the site of the fight the next day (using Danny's ghost powers off-camera of course) so they can do an overnight stakeout. It always just amounts to the three of them goofing off and finding no evidence whatsoever. They do all the standard ghost hunting stuff but have to fib the data because Danny’s presence alone triggers the EMF reader and if they try and take the room temp anywhere near Danny it’s always like 10 degrees colder.

As time goes on, the channel starts to really kick off as people latch onto their goofy energy and start to get invested. However, they've also made themselves a lot of enemies within the student body at school, as most of their classmates have become discredited witnesses on their channel (with a few unfortunately souls even becoming trending memes for a few days). This also means Jazz learns about it and keeps volunteering to tag along or help out. She even gets Mr. Lancer to recognize the four of them as an official school club (she took initiative and made herself a part of the club AND club president without asking them), which he gladly approves since he doesn't believe in any of this ghost nonsense either.

Jazz is just really happy that there’s finally someone else in the family that is willing to stand up to their crazy parents' belief about ghosts, so she wants to be the supportive older sibling. However, she literally will not give the trio any space to deal with the ACTUAL ghost stuff. There are several pieces of unedited footage that lives on Sam's computer of Jazz showing up unannounced to an overnight stakeout asking Tucker and Sam “Where’s Danny?” and the camera would catch a glimpse of local menace Inviso-Bill getting his butt kicked by Skulker in the distance.

To get her off their back, Danny ends up publishing an hour long video essay about how ghosts ARE real, but that everything happening in Amity Park is just people making up bullshit for attention. He has to really commit to the act at home, but Jazz will eventually drop it and leave the trio to their own devices. This backfires however, as Danny's parents now believe he’s interested in ghost hunting and try to join him as well. Thankfully Danny is able to deter them by suggesting that they should all do their own research and compare notes later. You know, the more data the better, right? However, this means that in addition to his chores, homework, ghost fighting as Danny Phantom, and ghost hunting as Chasing Phantoms, he also now has to peer review his parents work so he's constantly exhausted. Tucker and Sam will usually let him copy their homework when the time crunch becomes really bad, and they will let Danny conk out for a much needed nap whenever the group gets together to brainstorm channel content or edit footage.

Following one of his encounters with Plasmius, Danny decided they should follow up the "Ghosts ARE real" video with a clickbait video titled “Top 10 places in Wisconsin that are ACTUALLY haunted!!!” They make Vlad’s Castle is #1 on the list and offer a reward to anyone that can bring them proof of a ghost haunting. They include a photo of Plasmius (that's been edited to look like bigfoot photos) so that people know what to look for. This means Vlad now has to hire extra security because the video triggers a mass influx of people that are constantly trying to break into his house and find evidence of this ghost for the reward.

Eventually Valerie and her dad end up on Chasing Phantoms as well, but as some of the discredited witnesses. It pisses her off so much that she starts up her own ghost hunting channel, Ghost Hunter Grey. She's constantly discrediting Chasing Phantoms in her videos and is very vocal on social media about how they give actual ghost hunters a bad name. Every time Chasing Phantoms uploads a new video, she stakes out the same place they did and uploads a video of her own a week later that includes all the evidence they clearly missed and a genuine, uncut interview with witnesses. She doesn't reveal her face (because of the reputation Chasing Phantoms has within the school) and uses a voice modifier when she edits her content.

Grey's videos aren’t nearly as popular as Chasing Phantoms content because Valarie tries to keep her videos more grounded in facts and backs everything up with proven science (unlike the trio’s videos which are just a constant barrage of ghost-themed brain-rotting jokes and funny reactions). It only frustrates her more and so she leans into the Popular Kids clique in order to low-key bully them as an act of revenge.

When the trio catches wind about Ghost Hunter Grey's channel, they will film a fake video and wait the next day to see if someone shows up. Sure enough, Valerie makes an appearance shocking all of them. Sam holds the braincell and say that since they know, they can just be careful and the group shouldn't try and provoke her anymore. Tucker agrees, but Danny has other ideas and starts greifing her as Phantom. At first he will purposefully reveal himself to her when he knows she doesn't have a camera on her, but once he starts getting a little more bold he will start to photo bomb her with the dumbest expressions and just being an overall annoyance. It basically boils down to him doing shit like saying "Nobody will ever believe you." or "It's been five years, you have to let me go." before slowly turning invisible and flying away.

#Youtuber AU #danny phantom #Nicktoons #nicktoons unite #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #everlasting trio #that's all i got for now but who knows #this au has been on my mind for the past week and I can't stop thinking about it #honestly was thinking about an AU for the whole unite gang but Danny's stuff came to me first #would tag as greygh0st but not sure if this counts

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fishenjoyer1 · 6 months ago

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Fish of the Day

The fish of the day today is the devils hole pupfish!

The devils hole pupfish, scientific name Cyprinodon diabolis, is an endangered fish known to live in exactly one spot, Devils hole. Devils hole is a limestone cavern with a geothermal pool found in Nye county of Nevada, and a disconnected section of Death Valley National Park. The geothermal pool keeps the water at a consistent 33 degrees Celsius all seasons, and has low dissolved oxygen amounts. The surface of water at the cave is only 72ft by 12ft, but below that the cave descends deep into the earth. Below the surface pool there is a larger cavern descending to 150 meters at its deepest before branching into a smaller tube at the bottom, the depth of which is currently unknown.1965 two teenagers went diving in the hole with scuba gear, and were never seen again, rescue divers sent after them found a dropped flashlight, and other scuba gear but the bodies were never found. One rescue diver dropped a weighted plate that fell a full 932ft without contacting a bottom to the chamber, describing the water below him as an "infinity chamber". Later scans of the cave revealed it is at least as deep as 1,247ft, although to this day the depth is still unknown. Another well known aspect of the cave is that it can be used to determine when there are earthquakes all over the world. The water surges and has displayed unique patterns during the 2022 Mexico 7.6 magnitude earthquake, along with other strong earthquakes further from the hole. Such as: the 2012 6.2 magnitude earthquake in Papua New Guinea, or the 2018 7.4 magnitude earthquake in Indonesia. Devils hole pupfish are known to live only in the first 80ft of the cave.

Devils hole pupfish are unique in appearance, getting only as large as an inch, and being one of few species that have no pelvic fins, however when raised in colder conditions these pupfish will regrow these appendages. As juveniles these fish are an off white color, and females retain some of this coloring in adulthood. This species has only ever been recorded with as many as 500 wild fish at its highest, hitting an all time low point of 42 fish in 2007. The more recent numbers are looking up however, and there were 263 pupfish observed in spring of 2022. The survival from egg to adulthood is small, but the likelihood with human effort that this fish will survive the test of time is high. Described as possibly the most isolated wild vertebrate species in the world. These fish live only 10-14 months, reaching sexual maturity at 8-10 weeks old and spawn year round with peaks in mid February-May, and a smaller peak in July-September. Due to the unique oxygen levels of devils hole, these fish have adapted to enter a state of tupor, similar to hibernation, where they can live anaerobically. This allows them to go without breathing for up to 2 hours, however they produce ethanol as a byproduct.

Most of the devils hole pupfish life is on the rocky outcrops of the surface waters of the cave system. Breeding, egg laying, diet, resting, and schedules surrounding the placement of the sun all depend on these rocky outcroppings of stone near the surface of the water. The diet of these fish is dependent on the rock outcroppings of the cave, as they eat anything they can find in the cave system. This includes: small freshwater crustaceans, beetles, flatworms, freshwater snails, inorganic matter made of small sections of the caves limestone, along with spirogyra and diatom algae, which grows on the rocks themselves and makes up most of the pupfish's diet. Due to their diet being mostly algae types, pupfish are incredibly susceptible to the seismic activity in the devils' hole, as it creates small tsunamis along surface water and washes away algae on the rocks, leaving them without a majority of their food source until it regrows. When these earthquakes happen the pupfish are known to flee into the deer waters of the cave until the water has stilled, and are thought to perhaps feel earthquakes before they happen, although not much research has been done on this yet.

Have a good Wednesday, everyone!

#pupfish #fish #fishblr #devils hole #devils hole pupfish #nevada #Cyprinodon diabolis #death valley #death valley national park #ash medows #ash medows fish conservation

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renlyslittlerose · 1 month ago

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Kinktober Day 10 - Cuddling for Warmth

For @gretchenzellerbarnes ❄️

Warm Love - 2,180 Rating: E Content: Established Relationship / Explicit Sexual Content / Cuddling & Snuggling / Huddling For Warmth / Frottage / Hand Jobs / Anakin Skywalker is a Menace

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All Jedi were expected to undergo survival training. As younglings they’d sit in their classes and learn the basics of how to call for help, how to track various night skies, and what foods were safe to eat depending on one’s species. When they became padawans the classroom became the outdoors where they were sent out to survive in the wilderness for days or even weeks at a time, and where they were expected to care for themselves and one another while actively looking for help and not just expecting it.

Anakin had always enjoyed survival training. He was actually good at it, despite Obi-Wan’s insistence that he really should stop eating the bugs he found beneath rocks and in the hollowed bodies of dead trees. The academic side of being a Jedi had always frustrated Anakin, having to sit and listen rather than do, but when it came to the practical, tangible side of his training, Anakin felt like perhaps he actually was meant to be a Jedi.

And so, when the heating systems of the Negotiator went out after a droid from the Separatist army landed a lucky shot in the middle of a dog fight, Anakin knew just what to do.

“We have to cuddle for warmth.”

Obi-Wan glanced up from his desk in his quarters and looked at Anakin as he stood in the doorway.

With a mild expression Obi-Wan dropped his stylus and sat back in his chair. “It’s only ten degrees, Anakin. That’s hardly cold enough to warrant a sweater, let alone needing to cuddle for warmth.”

Anakin didn’t care that it was only twelve degrees. What he did care about was how the tip of his nose was going pink, and how he was fairly certain that in a few short minutes his toes would start to go numb.

“You run hot,” he said as he strode into the room. It was slightly warmer inside Obi-Wan’s room, his breath heating up the small space. Anakin seemed to grow colder the longer he remained in his, and he eyed Obi-Wan with some suspicion. “You don’t have some secret Jedi warming powers you never told me about, do you?”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “No, Anakin, I do not have any secret powers, unless you count my ability to know when you’re getting yourself into trouble from light-years away.”

Under normal circumstances Anakin would have snapped back at Obi-Wan, but these were not normal circumstances. His toes were going numb.

“Whatever - just get into bed with me?”

Rising with deliberate ease, Obi-Wan held his arm out to Anakin and allowed him to pass. Obi-Wan’s bed was tucked into the wall as was standard with all beds on the ship, and was neatly made and smelled of military issues detergent mixed with Obi-Wan’s spicy cologne. It wasn’t made for two grown men, but that had never stopped them before.

“You should take off your robes,” Obi-Wan said as Anakin was half-way on to the bed.

Anakin glanced over his shoulder. “Undressing would defeat the purpose of getting warm.”

“Not if we’re fucking.”

Swallowing down the sudden spike of arousal at hearing Obi-Wan say the word ‘fuck’, Anakin pushed off of the bed and turned to face Obi-Wan. “You want to fuck?” he asked.

Obi-Wan shrugged, nonchalant and elegant. “It’ll be hours before the droids complete their work and we’ll be able to leave this system, and hours still before we’re expected to be on deck and fill our roles as Generals. And if you’re cold… well, I know how I can warm you up.”

He slid closer to Anakin, his warm felt even through the dense layers of robes. Anakin gravitated closer and accepted the slow, easy kiss, his head tilting to the side as he buried his fingers in the warm cotton of Obi-Wan’s robes. Obi-Wan’s mouth was hot just like the rest of him, making Anakin’s cheeks and the tip of his nose heat up with each deliberate swipe.

“Hours you say?” Anakin said as they parted.

“Hours and hours,” Obi-Wan purred.

“You’ve convinced me.”

“Then you should start taking off your robes.”

Anakin sighed and nuzzled his nose against Obi-Wan’s. “But I’m cold.”

“I promise to warm you up immediately, darling. Now come on - let me see that pretty cock of yours.”

Anakin was certain there wasn’t much to see at the moment, his pretty cock gone and hidden itself as much as it could to avoid the chill. But just the thought of having slow, relaxing, warm sex with Obi-Wan gave Anakin the immense courage it took to start undressing. As soon as the cold air touched his skin he was shivering, and by the time he was under the thin sheets of Obi-Wan’s narrow bed he felt like he was going to break apart from the strength of his tremors.

“You’re so dramatic,” Obi-Wan said as he crawled on top of Anakin.

Immediately Anakin wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan and clutched him close, willing Obi-Wan’s heat to push into his bones and heat his insides. Obi-Wan’s skin was soft, the hairs across his chest and belly rough and pleasing, and the weight of his body on top eased Anakin’s trembles into something more manageable.

“You can see my breath,” Anakin said, pouting.

Obi-Wan chuckled and kissed Anakin deeply, one arm sliding beneath Anakin’s waist to hold him close, the other running through his curls, petting his jaw and the back of his skull. Easing into the kiss, Anakin parted his lips and rubbed his tongue against Obi-Wan’s, a shaky sigh slipping past his lips.

They continued their kiss for some time, Anakin trying to soak in Obi-Wan’s warmth. He was hot and heavy between his legs, their stomachs and chests pressed tight together, Anakin keeping both his arms beneath the blankets as he painted idle patterns along Obi-Wan’s low back and the curve of his ass. Obi-Wan was patient as he licked inside Anakin’s mouth and sucked on his tongue, their lips brushing and then pressing firmly together as Obi-Wan eased Anakin down from his deliberately indigent state.

It was as if the Separatist army thought it hadn’t personally pissed Anakin Skywalker off enough, and they just had to go and cut off the heating system of the ship he was on.

“Feeling any better?” Obi-Wan asked when they broke apart. His voice was thick with arousal, dense and deep, and Anakin ground up a little at the sound of it, pressing his hardening cock against Obi-Wan’s hip.

“A little,” he admitted. The tip of his nose was still cold, however, and he pressed his face against the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck, breathing him in as they rocked together.

Obi-Wan held him a little tighter and started grinding down, reciprocating Anakin’s slow, steady movements. Sweat began to bead up between them, and Anakin sighed with relief as his bones began to ache just a little less. Grabbing the meat of Obi-Wan’s ass, Anakin groaned as the muscles flexed beneath his touch, seizing before relaxing as Obi-Wan slowly humped against him.

Pulling away from the warmth of Obi-Wan’s neck, Anakin kissed across his jaw before catching him in another kiss. This time it was deeper and more intense, their tongues rubbing, mouths parted, breath sticky and hot, spit streaked across their lips. Anakin’s cock pulsed, stringy pearls of precome sliding out to slick across their bellies, catching in the coarse hairs along their groins.

Obi-Wan tasted like tea and cinnamon, soft notes of the green leaves mixing with the spice of the root, making Anakin feel both at ease but also slightly annoyed.

“You had tea without me,” Anakin mumbled when they broke apart.

“You don’t like the stuff I brought with me.” Obi-Wan rested their foreheads together, breath stuttering as he shoved his hips a little harder against Anakin.

“Still - I’m cold. I could have used a cup.”

“I’ll make you one when we’re done.”

“Make me a cup of caf instead.”

Obi-Wan’s nipped Anakin’s bottom lip, biting down on the tender skin rubbed raw from the brush of his beard. “You’re a brat.”

Anakin preened under the mild insult and hooked his leg around Obi-Wan’s waist, changing the angle so that he could slide his cock against Obi-Wan’s. Obi-Wan let out a gasp then, brows furrowing as they moved together. Heat pooled between them, chasing away Anakin’s prior chill, his skin slick with sweat and cheeks and chest flushed, his breath coming out in hot gusts that painted Obi-Wan’s lips and cheeks with perspiration.

His flesh hand remained beneath the blanket, rubbing Obi-Wan’s low back before occasionally slipping a finger between the cleft of his ass, teasing Obi-Wan but never going further than that. Feeling brave he lifted his mechno-hand out from the blankets and into the cold air, sensors picking up on the change in temperature. But Anakin didn’t want to turn them off, desperate to feel Obi-Wan - his warmth and the brush of his hairs along his fingertips, the dips and grooves of his face and the little pocket of scars across his back. Brushing a sweaty lock of hair from Obi-Wan’s brow, Anakin cupped his cheek and locked eyes with him.

The warmth in Obi-Wan’s eyes was enough to burn Anakin up from the inside out.

“Thanks for sharing your warmth with me,” he panted out, gasping and arching as Obi-Wan reached between them and grasped their cocks, holding them together firmly. “Guess you’re a true Jedi - helping those in need.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, his brows furrowing a moment before relaxing, breath coming out in a stutter as he neared the edge. Anakin moaned again when he felt the pad of Obi-Wan’s thumb press against the tip of his cock, and he caught him in another messy kiss as they chased their pleasures.

The sounds of their embrace carried through the now muggy room, the lick of their tongues, the gasps of their moans, the steady rustle of bedding as they moved. The air was thick with the scent of sex and the military issues soaps, familiar and yet still foreign to Anakin. He didn’t like that Obi-Wan smelled of the industry of death; uncompromising and ordinary.

Anakin came first. Shuddering, he broke the kiss and tossed his head back, eyes closing as his orgasm fluttered through his limbs and soaked deep within his belly, brushing away the last of the chill and heating him up from the inside. Clutching Obi-Wan close he bit into the meat of his shoulder, sucking a dark mark along his pale flesh as his hips stuttered and his toes curled.

Relaxing on the thin mattress, Anakin stroked the back of Obi-Wan’s head and murmured his adoration for Obi-Wan across his temple as he too came, his hips pushing into Anakin’s, adding to the mess as he spread his seed along Anakin’s groin and stomach. When he was done, Obi-Wan collapsed on top of Anakin. His weight was familiar and grounding, keeping Anakin settled and warm.

Hugging him close, Anakin pressed his nose against Obi-Wan’s temple and closed his eyes. They remained as they were for some time, wrapped up in each other, content for just a moment as they slowly drifted off into some semblance of sleep.

That was, until the sound of the heating system kicked in. Letting out a great huff, Anakin moved with Obi-Wan as he rolled off and wedged himself between the wall and Anakin’s flushed body.

“You said we had hours,” Anakin said with a pout. He brushed some of the spit from Obi-Wan’s beard, flicking it off onto the bedding.

“I thought we did,” Obi-Wan said. “Though I thought you’d be happy - the heating is back on, and you can continue to stalk the halls of the ship without your pink nose undercutting your authority.”

Anakin rolled his eyes and smacked Obi-Wan’s chest gently. “Shut up. I’ll have you know I can be very intimidating when I’m cold.”

“Oh I’m sure,” Obi-Wan replied. He sunk down for another kiss, sweet and slow. When they broke apart he brushed a curl from Anakin’s temple. “I could always go and ‘accidentally’ break the system again. Buy us those hours I promised.”

The offer alone was enough for Anakin.

#obikin #star wars fanfiction #lemon fanfiction #lemon does kinktober 2024

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sunshineewines · 2 months ago

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sitting outside between bouts of rain because i cant vape inside even though the wind is making it 10 degrees colder and im shivering but im sitting here like “im honoring Aeolus and his domain” over and over because mama didnt raise no bitch who gets cold

#tessa’s ramblings #hellenic polytheism #hellenic deities #hellenic paganism #deity worship #hellenic witch

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bumblebugwrites · 10 months ago

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chapter 1: nothing's new

Pairing: Victor!Treech x fem!Reader

Summary: After nearly two years of peace, you are called back to the Capitol only to find that the future they promised you was a lie.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Cursing, Suggestive Themes, Use of Weapons, Mention of Injuries, Minor Character Death.

Word Count: 6.5k

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

Coriolanus Snow is many things, he thinks to himself, but incompetent is not one of them. So there had been the Lucy Gray hiccup. Helping her cheat the Games only for her to die at the hands of Dr. Gaul’s snakes after he failed to slip the handkerchief into their tank was inconvenient, to say the least. As was his brief stint as a Peacekeeper as punishment for his dishonest tactics following the discovery of a certain compact with her remains. Still, he had learned a valuable lesson. Love is no more than a disadvantage, a distraction lodging itself like an unfortunate bump in his flawless plan. And now, he is back, having traded Sejanus’s life for his own advancement. It was nothing personal, really. Personal is a luxury, the only one he can not afford.

Sure, the loss had hurt, but the District 7 boy made a fine victor and one he could control with a far greater degree of ease, given the detachment he felt in regard to the kid’s safety. New year, new him, new Games, and this time, things would be different.

His proposals had gone through without much struggle, especially with Dr. Gaul practically eating out of the palm of his hand. He is the protege; his mentor is the kind of woman you do not cross without bearing the consequences.

And so, on this fine morning, as he stands with the casual grace of a cat, elegantly perched on the corner of his desk, he can’t fight the grin that spreads across his face as he delivers the order he’s been waiting for weeks to give.

“Well? Go get them.”

It is a cold day in District 10, at least colder than most you think as you finish your daily sweep of the ranch and its expansive territory. You pull back lightly on the reins, bringing the horse to a slow stop.

“To name an animal, any animal, it’s counterproductive. Selfish even. Makes for a more difficult slaughter; always best to remain detached.” Your father’s words echo in your head as you dip your neck to whisper soft praise to the creature below, her hind branded with a string of three numbers: 039. Her label, to call it a name, would be to demean anyone granted the privilege of such a thing.

“That was good Bluebell, nice easy ride. Told you it would get better.” She is young. Young enough to spook with a fair amount of ease, but then so are you. Had been ever since your Games.

You dismount, hitting the ground with a soft thud before coming around to face the gentle giant and fishing a handful of sugar cubes out of your pocket. She nuzzles the food in your palm before beginning to eat, and you run a hand up and down the bridge of her nose. The world is quiet, dew still catching the light of the rising sun when you see it in the distance: the armored vehicle speeding towards the cabin housing the front office. It is not unusual for Peacekeepers to come and go from the building, but the night shift typically does not end until 8:00 am, and dawn’s colors still paint the lower half of the sky. Something is wrong.

Two men exit the vehicle, entering the small building before quickly reappearing at its entrance, a third companion in tow. He stands on the porch for one beat, two, a lazy hand draped over his eyes as he scans the field for something. Someone. And then he points. You. They are looking for you.

Your heart leaps into your throat, and your body screams at you to mount once more and ride as fast and as far away as you can, but you stay rooted. Frozen. You watch, helplessly still, as the car only comes closer, pulling to a stop on the other side of the fence, keeping the pastures separated from the open road. The Peacekeeper in the passenger seat steps out, boots scraping the gravel.

“Ms. L/N?” You only nod.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us; you’ve been called to the Capitol.” You feel like screaming, but your throat constricts, and all you can do is take slow, encumbered breaths as your body caves in on itself and you crumple to the ground.

“I– What?”

You do not mind the mud on your knees, and the slow chill that begins to spread from the places dampened by the wet grass is barely perceptible in your state of shock. Called to the Capitol. Your mind jumps back home, your brother and sister still tucked away, blankets to their chins. They would not rise for another thirty minutes at least. You picture your mother. Savoring a final moment of quiet in her busy day, sipping the coffee you’d left in the pot just for her. Your mind replays the goodbyes you had paid them this morning. Careless and quick, not like the day of the reaping. Just sloppy kisses pressed haphazardly to their foreheads and a gentle farewell on your way out the door.

“That’s not possible– It’s not– I haven’t…” There is an eerie stillness to the world at this time of day. One that only seems to press inwards, suffocating you. Distantly, you feel the soft pressure of Bluebell’s muzzle on your shoulder as though urging you to get up

Though the man in the driver’s seat seems annoyed by the inconvenience, his partner fails to shield the look of pity that flits across his face as he dips to pass through the fence, pulling you up and then back through the gap with him. He is not rough as he sets you in the backseat, not like the Peacekeepers you remember from your Games, or maybe he is; everything seems a blur as the car makes its way to the train station, and it is only as the compartment doors to close behind you that you think of Bluebell, left out in the pasture, probably licking fallen sugar cubes off the ground.

Treech releases a labored exhale as he tries once more to readjust his grip on the axe. It’s just a tree. He can sense the nearby Peacekeeper shuffling from foot to foot, anxious for him to get on with the process. This is not the arena. I am safe. I am home.

There is no time off granted to returning victors following their stint in the Games. Production is production, and there are quotas to be met, so Treech had arrived home, and the following morning, before the sun had kissed the hilltops with its light, he had risen to go to work. Only work didn’t come easy the way it used to, lulling him into a rhythmic sense of comfort with its repetitive motions, and each time he raised his axe, all he saw was them. The other tributes waiting to receive the killing blow.

Treech wipes the sweat from his brow in a single frustrated motion in spite of the cold, then, squaring his jaw, he takes a swing. Crunch. The axe lodges itself in Teslee’s head, and he stumbles back, eyes wide with fear. Only it is not Teslee. No. He blinks once, twice, and it is only a pine tree, and he is back in the forest, sinking under the weight of the Peacekeeper’s heavy glare. The man, stationed less than a yard away, begins to move towards him, and Treech prepares himself for another beating, the sharp threats from the last time still ringing in his ears.

“Officer,” a voice calls out in their direction as another man of higher rank, from what Treech can gauge, approaches the pair. The two men meet and begin to speak in hushed voices, eyes flitting in his direction every few sentences. They’re gonna fire me. Or worse, string me up in the square and use me as an example. His grip on the axe tightens. His axe. His father’s before him. He will not go down without a fight.

“Hey, you,” Treech keeps his eyes on the forest floor, silently praying to any higher power that will listen that he is not the you in question.

“Hey! Hey, you!” He can hear the man approaching, but the sound of his footsteps is dulled by the pounding of Treech’s heart. He feels like a child in a bathtub, head halfway under the surface as the water beats at his eardrums, completely still and as loud as a tidal wave. A firm grasp settles around the fabric of his winter coat, far too thin for the cold but the best he can afford.

“Listen to me when I’m fucking speaking to you,” the Peacekeeper spits, and Treech’s mouth settles into a hard line, his hand curled into a tight fist, twitching by his side. The man before him huffs in frustration.

“Call came in from the Capitol; you’re on the next train out,” he moves as though he’s going to release Treech before yanking him back in, close enough to press his mouth to the boy’s ear.

“You’re lucky the order came from above; if I had a say, I’d gun you down right here for the disrespect.” With that, he gives the kid before him a hard shove before beginning to stalk off.

“Let’s go.” But Treech feels as though the ground beneath him has disappeared. Back to the Capitol? Would they send him into the arena? He was done. Won his Games fair and square. He was supposed to be free. What more could they want?

The first thing you notice about the train is that it is the nicest thing you have ever set foot inside of. During your Games, and all those before and after, transport to the Capitol had been relegated to old cattle cars used to shuttle livestock across Panem, and the same had been true on your return trip. This is different. Every inch of the compartment is decorated with the lavish and ornate, all-cushioned seats and elaborate chandeliers.

The second thing you notice is the boy. He is older than you, you think, by several years. Five, maybe six. He seems out of place, tucked into the corner of one of the booths, sizing you up suspiciously. He looks familiar.

“I– Do I know you?”

“We’ve never met before,” he responds, cold and guarded. But there is something about him, his build, tall and broad, dark skin and brown eyes; you could almost imagine them looking soft and kind in a different environment.

He keeps the sharp look on his face, and you have yet to move from the doors when it clicks.

“You won seven years ago; I remember you. District 11. Teff, right?”

“You’re the girl from 10,” he says, and his posture relaxes, if only by a fraction.

“Y/N.” You smile, and you mean it to be a comfort, but there’s a fear in your eyes that betrays the anxiety deep in your gut. Still, you move closer, sliding into the seat across from him and bringing your hands into a neat pile on your lap.

“What are we doing here?” It’s small and whispered as it escapes your lips, and your gaze refuses to meet Teff’s as you wait for an answer.

“I have no idea.”

It is several hours before the train stops again, and though they are mostly passed in silence, the occasional attempt is made at small talk. Whispered theories mingle among everyday questions. So, what do you do in District 11? Do you think they’re gonna kill us? There’s lots of horses back home, cows too. They can’t put us back in, right? Only once, that’s what they said.

The next time the doors open, you are in 2, as indicated by the towering stone walls keeping it separate from neighboring Districts. Three people get on. One of the boys you recognize immediately: Octavian Blackwell, the first victor. His hair is dark, clipped short in a sort of military cut, and his eyes look as though they are carved from steel. Beside him is a girl, small and lithe, her posture relaxed and tense all at once. Antonia. The name echos out from some dark, cavernous corner of your mind. The first female victor, 3rd Hunger Games. The final boy is taller than both his counterparts, though leaner in build than Octavian; you wrack your brain, praying for some form of recollection, but he remains unfamiliar to you.

“More victors,” whispers Teff, and you watch as the three faces before you seem to come to the same realization.

“What the fuck is going on?” It’s the District 2 boy who breaks the silence, the one whose name continues to elude you.

“Hector,” Antonia hisses, a warning lacing her tone, but her eyes betray a curiosity lingering beneath the surface.

“They can’t put us back in, right? There’s not enough. Not to mention, half the districts wouldn’t even have tributes,” you sputter the words up, an involuntary torrent of concern spewing from your mouth. Your gaze flits nervously from face to face, and in spite of the many hardened exteriors, you can feel it beneath the surface, a brewing apprehension. Octavian breaks the silence.

“They won’t put us back in.” And he seems certain. He is old, you think. Not old in the way a grandparent is, but aged certainly. You had never taken the time to imagine a tribute outside childhood, escaping adolescence into fully formed adulthood, but here was Octavian, who must have been at least twenty-six, with several deep-set wrinkles beginning to mar his brow.

“Probably just rounding us all up to kill us, send a real message after those shitshow Games last year,” Hector grumbles, moving further into the compartment and thrusting himself into the booth across from you and Teff. “Just watch; I bet we’ll hit 4 next, then 7, and 1.”

The noise of uncomfortable shuffling seems to fill the compartment, and eventually, Octavian and Antonia settle into the booth beside Hector. You can’t help but allow the shell of a laugh to brush past your lips. A whole train car for the lot of you, and here you were, pressed into the two corner booths. Sure, the cage is bigger, but you still cower like animals. Like you’re back in those trucks ushering you from the train to the arena, gleaning a last moment of comfort as you brushed shoulders with the children you would watch die.

Hector was right. The train stopped at 4, though only one boy got on. Trawl, he’d won the 8th Games, just before yours. You remember distantly hearing of another victor from 4, a boy who was killed upon return. Murdered by the father of his district partner, who accused him of killing her. Stabbed him in the town square, they said. The Peacekeepers only watched.

The train grinds once more to a halt in 7, and quick glance outside the window reveals a station made entirely of wood, grand posts carved with ornate designs supporting the massive roof. You glance towards the door, waiting for him, the newest victor. You do not have to work hard to recall his name, Treech; the two syllables had echoed from every radio in your mother's house the day the 10th Games ended.

The doors open with a hiss, and he stumbles in as though pushed, a mop of curls obscuring his eyes. He seems dazed. As he lifts his head, you watch it happen. The same realization that had dawned on every victor to enter the compartment after you, but then his gaze only grows dull as though accepting some secret fate you had yet to be alerted of before he shuffles forward, taking a seat on a longer bench facing the door. Alone.

It is several more hours before you reach 1, and although some hushed conversation continues to fill the train car, you sit in silence, casting worried glances at the quiet boy with his head in his hands. He is not crying, you think; his shoulders are too still, but his breathing remains too rapid to indicate sleep. Maybe he just likes to listen, you suppose, trying to grasp the newest direction of the chatter around you. Maybe he’s scared. As you turn once more to analyze his hunched shape, Trawl catches your line of sight, speaking up from beside you.

“Just leave him alone; if he wants to sit by himself sulking, that’s his problem,” he mutters close to your ear.

“For all we know, we could be walking into an ambush. Give him a break,” you say, moving to stand before making your way over to the place on the bench beside him. You are quiet for a time, unsure how to start, but as your lips begin to purse around a greeting, he interrupts you.

“I like your hat.” His voice is flat, a single eye visible from behind the curtain of his hair. You forgot you were wearing a hat. It was your father’s from his brief time on the ranch before transferring to the slaughterhouse, where he met your mom. Your hand darts up to trace the brim.

“Thanks, it was–” But then his tone registers, and you recognize the snark behind the compliment, “You don’t mean that, do you?”

“You some sort of cowgirl?”

“How do you know what a cowgirl is?” You ask, and your eyebrows draw together in surprise at the knowledge.

“Read about them in school once, before I dropped out.”

“I guess so. Usually, people just call me a ranch hand.” He lifts his head at this, and you realize he’s quite pretty on closer viewing.

“Doesn’t sound as cool.” The ghost of a smirk lights his face as he says it.

“No, I guess it doesn’t,” you say, grinning back. His smile is quick to fade, and he turns once more, fixing his gaze ahead, away from you.

“Why are we here?” He asks, his cocky demeanor gone in an instant. You ache to be able to provide him with an answer, but the same question has been clawing at you since the two men showed up on the ranch this morning.

“I– I’m not sure.” He nods, and it is solemn, like a prayer, but he does not return his face to his hands, instead watching the miles of land roll by in a blur, no single thing occupying the space outside the window for longer than a second. You find yourself looking, too, imagining how it must feel to go 250 mph. You decide it's probably like flying.

By the time you reach 1 to collect its two victors, a searing silence has spread over the train, the atmosphere tense. The journey to the Capitol is so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and as the skyline appears over the barriers built to keep people like you out, you feel the apprehension shrouding the compartment begin to buzz. It is only then that Hector speaks, shattering the stillness with a single phrase.

“Welcome back to Hell.”

The sun is setting as the train pulls into the station, and you twitch nervously, scraping your nails against the pads of your fingertips. Beside you, Treech watches your movements with a fixed gaze as though pondering reaching out to still the repetitive motions himself. He does not, and you fail to notice his attention on you at all, eyes fixed ahead on the double doors.

When they open, a swarm of Peacekeepers descends on the car within a matter of seconds, hoisting you from the seats, snatching at arms and shoulders in their attempts to muscle you out of the compartment. A startled yelp escapes your lips as the man with a harsh grasp on the collar of your shirt rips you forward and onto the platform, jostling your hat from your head.

“No–” You lunge for the single remnant of your father, straining against the Peacekeeper working to wrangle you towards an awaiting vehicle, but it is no use. He wraps you in a firm pair of arms, lifting you, kicking and biting from the ground the remainder of the distance before tossing you onto the floor of the car. As you whip around to assail him once more, the doors fall closed with a thud, leaving you to pound futilely against them.

Eventually, your jabs lose their power, and you sink down, forehead pressed to the cool metal, biting your lip to prevent the oncoming tears from spilling over. A hand makes its presence known on your shoulder as the car begins to move, and you turn to glimpse Trawl, his face painted with concern. A quick once over of the vehicle reveals only half the victors had been loaded on: you, Trawl, and the two tributes from 1, Lux, who sits with both hands clasped primly in her lap, and Beau, whose only visible sign of distress is the repeated preening of his hair.

“My– My hat. It was my dad’s–” you stutter out as Trawl helps you onto the seat beside his, “I don’t– there’s nothing else left.” The concern in his eyes settles into pity, and you feel like shrinking under the weight of his compassion, tired of feeling helpless.

It is not long before the car pulls to a stop, and the doors come open once more. It is dark out now, and you can’t help but find it unusual, the feeling that you are being smuggled, rushed in under the cover of night. Typically everything is a display in the Capitol. If they are going to kill you, where are the cameras? You are ushered into an elevator, and one of the Peacekeepers extends an arm, scanning a card before pressing the button for the top floor. You think distantly this might be some sort of hotel. You have never been inside a hotel before. A simple ding alerts you to the fact that you have reached your destination, and you are jostled out and through the door directly before you following the swipe of another card.

It is a large room. You had always believed hotels came with the promise of a bed, but this seems more like a home: a kitchen with appliances you do not recognize, a luxurious lounge with a semicircular couch facing a large projection, and a man, his hair as white as snow.

“Please, let’s not manhandle our guests,” he calls out to the group of Peacekeepers herding you into the center of the room, and they back away, taking up posts on the surrounding walls. Their message is clear: you are not permitted to leave.

You reach up to rub at the place where, only moments before, your arm had been kept in an iron grip when the door to the room flings open again, the remainder of the victors stumbling in. Teff comes first, ripping his bicep from the man beside him upon entrance, followed by Hector, Antonia, and Octavian, who seem more contained. Last is Treech, a newly formed bruise beginning to darken the area around his eye, and your father's hat held delicately in his hand, fingers pinched around the rim. He keeps his gaze fixed on the floor but lifts his head upon hearing your stifled gasp.

“Come, make yourselves comfortable. I don’t bite, I promise.” The man at the front of the room speaks with a placating tone and words meant to dulcify, but he smiles like a wolf. No one moves.

“Let’s try this again. Sit down.” From behind you, you can hear the Peacekeepers beginning to shuffle from their stations, inching forward. Octavian is the first to budge. He takes a tentative step in the direction of the couch before nodding at Antonia and Hector, who follow close behind. You look to Teff and then to Treech, only a few feet away from him, still holding your father’s hat. The former surveys the room once before giving you a slow nod, and you move to sit. They file in behind you, Trawl quick on their heels, and the four of you occupy a single corner of the couch being sure to leave room for Lux and Beau. As he slides into the seat next to yours, Treech tenderly sets the hat atop your lap, and you mouth a subtle thank you that he leaves unacknowledged.

“Much better.” The man before you grins, and out of the corner of your eye, you see a look of recognition pass across Treech’s face.

“So glad you could all join us.” He claps his hands together before clearing his throat to begin.

“Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering what you’re doing here, and I want to assure you that in spite of the worries you expressed on the train, we are not going to kill you.” A chill passes down your spine at his implication: they had been watching you.

“See, you represent a new beginning. The birth of a different kind of Games. A better kind of Games.” A wave of confusion seems to pass over the lot of you. Though it is more like anxiety, and you feel a bit like you are drowning in it.

“Now, last year, well, that was quite the mess,” he says, nodding to Treech as though they are in on some sort of joke together. Your stomach turns.

“But the important thing is, we learned something: the people of the Capitol need someone to care about. To root for, if you will. Which means it’s time for a new way of thinking.” He pauses as though for dramatic effect, and you can’t help but think his speech feels practiced. Had he smiled this morning, delivering his death knell to the bathroom mirror?

“Right now, the Games, they make people sad, uncomfortable even. Too much humanity, not enough spectacle.” Beside you, Treech tenses. “There is nothing commodifiable about the current structure. But if, say, we were to place a higher value on the victors and make you celebrities of sorts, then this blight becomes an honor.” The nine faces before him appear as though they are sculpted from stone; he clears his throat before continuing.

“And how, you may ask, do we plan to do that? Well, starting this year, the past victors will be in charge of mentoring the children from your districts.” Here, there is some breakage. Anger, plain and simple, seeping through the masks. Antonia begins to speak.

“Fuck no–”

“I’m not finished, thank you. Now, this will come with an array of new challenges. There will, of course, be interviews to prepare them for, something you obviously have no experience with, as well as a tribute parade.” Your nose crinkles in disgust as the sole image your mind conjures is last year’s tributes chained to a flatbed truck, Brandy’s dead body swaying from a crane above them. Brandy, who you knew. Who was only one year younger than you. Who had a talent for soothing any creature with which she came in contact and who cried for three days the first time she killed a hog.

“And you will be in charge of organizing sponsorships once they are in the arena, networking, and such. But not to worry, each of you will be given an escort from the Capitol, someone to help you navigate the trickier aspects of the job. And you will not go unrewarded either. Starting this year, victors will be granted financial compensation as well as eventual housing in a Victor’s Village, which will be put up in each of your home districts. Still, we will need to begin with a sort of reintroduction to teach the public what your new role as a victor is, and–”

“That’s not fair,” you mumble, so quiet you think no one hears.

“Excuse me?” The man’s gaze is icy cold, like a knife to the chest.

“That’s– That’s not fair. What about the kids in 12? 8? 6 and 5? If you do this, the same people will win every year.” You stare back, and when your hands begin to shake, you hide them beneath your thighs.

“I don’t typically give lessons in power for free; you should be grateful.”

“You’re evil.” And it is not a question. You are certain.

“Not evil, just practical.”

“The Capitol hates us, they think we’re scum. They’ll never get behind this,” Treech offers from beside you, and you see it on him, the mark of last year's Games. The toll they took.

“If the citizens of the Capitol think we care, they will too. I’ll put you on television with the goddamned President if I have to. This will work.”

“What if we won’t do it?” Teff demands, his voice low, tinged with a warning.

“You have a family, do you not?” The man asks, and the threat pools in his eyes, but he voices it anyway. “Would you like to continue having a family?” It is quiet for a moment, and the weight of his words feels heavier than anything you’ve ever carried in your life.

“We were supposed to be done. We won our Games,” It is Hector who speaks this time, rising from his seat. He pauses for a moment, then raises his brow as though in a challenge. “Well, I don’t have any family. Not anymore. Not thanks to this bullshit fucking system, so you know what? I think I’ll pass.” From beside him, Antonia claws at his arm, a pleading look in her eyes. It is too late. The man with the white hair nods, and two of the Peacekeepers on the back wall step forward.

“That’s too bad. He can go.” They are on Hector in a matter of seconds, but they do not make for the door; instead, they seize him, one on each arm, and turn towards the hallway, splitting off from the large central room. Several victors move to stand, with Trawl and Octavian making an attempt to follow, but they are swiftly restrained, and you sit in silent shock as the sounds of Hector’s struggle become distant. A door slams. Then, a gunshot. After that, it is quiet. Your limbs feel stiff, frozen even. From your other side, Lux releases a stifled sob. Somewhere in the distance, you hear Teff throw up.

“Anyone else have any concerns they wish to voice?” It’s as though you have all stopped breathing.

“Wonderful. We’ll begin in the morning. You’ll each have a team here to prepare you for the press tour. Your rooms are numbered by district. Be ready at 5:00 am sharp. I’d hate to have any more incidents.”

“So, we’re trapped here?” You speak again, though the sound of your own voice comes as a shock. The man only sighs.

“This is not a prison, no. Though we would prefer you not leave the premises–” You don’t give him time to finish, making a hasty exit through the door where you came in.

“Just make sure she doesn’t leave the building,” he sighs with a haphazard wave of his hand in your direction.

You are at the bar when Treech finds you, two glasses of Posca deep.

He hadn’t meant to go looking for you, really, only to clear his head and get away from that room. Shortly after your departure, two men had entered with a stretcher and left only minutes later with it full, the vague outline of a body visible beneath a white linen sheet. He had followed them out and then quickly abandoned their company at the prospect of sharing their elevator, instead descending the stairs. From the 32nd floor. And there you were, right as the door to the lobby opened, hat on the bar and your eyes fixed on something he wasn’t sure was really there.

“No hard liquor here. At least not for us,” you huff, slumping in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.

“And don’t bother asking for the bottle either. They’ll just give you one of these. Nothing more dignified than drowning my sorrows in a glass that costs more than my mother’s house,” you wave a limp hand at the ornate flute before you, doing little to disguise the biting sarcasm in your tone.

“I’ll take what she’s having,” Treech mutters to the man behind the bar, though he keeps his eyes fixed on the counter, unwilling to bear the weight of the curious gaze being pressed upon the pair of you.

“Do you remember them, the other tributes?” You ask suddenly, as though the thought had been clouding your mind for hours.

“The other victors?” You shake your head.

“No. The other kids in the arena.” Treech freezes for only a moment, caught off guard, but it’s enough time for the truth to plaster itself across his face. Every day.

“Sure.” You don’t say anything, only sit patiently, waiting for him to continue. “There was– There was Lamina; she was from home.” I watched her die. I sat by and did nothing. “And there was Coral and Mizzen; they were from 4. And the youngest. She was from 8. Had these hearts made of buttons on her pants. Wovey, I think. From 12, there was Lucy Gray, the girl who sang. Reaper, he was the last to die. I killed him. Killed the girl from 3, too. Teslee.”

He feels his voice begin to waver and opts to stop talking. You sit in silence for a moment, trading quiet nods with the bartender as he returns with Treech’s drink.

“Rye.”

“Sorry?” Treech asks, still lost in the memories of his fellow tributes.

“He was the youngest. He had these eyes just like my kid brother, big and sad. He just stood there, I remember, when the games started. The boy from 2 killed him; just walked up and broke his neck. Couldn’t have been that hard; he was so small. But he looked so surprised like he hadn’t known it was coming, even after he hit the ground.” Treech thinks he might be sick, and beside him, the color has drained from your face.

“Twenty-four kids every year, and we’ll have front-row seats to all of it. The people in the districts, in the Capitol, they’ll forget, let a name or two slip, but we’ll see them all. Watch them train, see their interviews, pick them apart in hopes of a weakness.” Treech downs his glass in one go before signaling to the bartender he needs a refill. You push your flute in the same direction, looking the District 7 boy up and down as though you’d never given him too much thought before.

“I never envied you. The way the Capitol dragged you through the streets for all those funerals, put you behind bars in a fuckin’ zoo, had you play nice and pleasant before sending you off to slaughter. At least ours was quick. Picked us all up on the train, threw us in the back of a truck, and then dumped us in the arena. Nobody knew who we were. Nobody wanted to.” You break off in a laugh that is brittle and unforgiving.

“Maybe it’ll be better this way. I’m in the market for a new job. Turns out you’re no good at chopping trees when you can barely hold an axe anymore,” Treech jokes, but the smile on his face does not reach his eyes.

“They–” but you are quick to pause, halting mid-sentence as though contemplating continuing. You exhale softly before clearing your throat and lifting your eyes once more to meet his.

“They had to fire me.” Treech’s brows lurch forward in confusion, creating two dimples in the flesh just above his nose.

“At the slaughterhouse,” you supply. “They had to fire me. I couldn’t– I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t kill anything. The Peacekeepers, they just wanted me gone. I’m pretty sure they would have just gotten rid of me too, you know, set an example, but I knew the guy who ran the place. I used to give his daughter art lessons. He made a call, and I got transferred. Started working as a ranch hand instead.” You stop, and for a moment, Treech thinks you’ve finished.

“I kept thinking they were him. I would pick up the knife, and suddenly, it was like I was back in the arena, watching him die.” The last part came out in a whisper.

“They say what I did to that kid; they say it was mercy. A mercy kill. But I still killed him, and he’s still dead. And I have never stopped thinking about it.” You clear your throat once more and cast your gaze down, hoping to disguise the tears collecting in your eyes. Treech takes notice. He remembers a conversation not two months prior with his mother. The way his voice shook as he spoke. About the games. About the other tributes. He recalls the twisted expression of discomfort she bore, the pity, and above all, his own anger at feeling helpless. Wounded.

“Art lessons? You paint?” Relief, instant and undisguised, etches itself across your features.

“Draw, mostly. Charcoal, pencil, anything easy to come by. I was gonna be a veterinarian before– Well, you know. I was practicing for scientific sketches, but I just sort of fell in love with the way they moved– animals.”

“You have a favorite?”

“Horses are the hardest. Cows– they’re soft, like people. Some people, I guess. I saw a fox once, little gray thing, sleeping in the grass. I think maybe I liked that one the best. My mom used to say it was good luck, a fox crossing your path. Though, I can’t imagine how. That– That was the day before my reaping.”

You sit in silence for a moment before Treech speaks again.

“You lived. Maybe that was it: the good luck.”

“Sometimes I wish I hadn’t. Like maybe everyone else got out easy, and here we are still living in a nightmare.”

“It won’t be like this forever,” he whispers, but it’s as though he’s pleading with some higher power that it might be true. “It can’t be.”

“Wake up, Treech. This is it for us. They are gonna drag us out here every year to flounce around the capitol, parading new kids to their deaths– or worse, whatever this is, the horrible aftermath–”

“There’ll be new mentors. New winners–”

“Yeah, in 1 and 2 and maybe 4. Don’t you get it? We’re the runt districts. We’ll be lucky if we see another Victor in the next twenty-five years,” Treech swallows hard, willing his mouth to stop tasting so dry; he can feel his heart in the pit of his stomach. “Maybe you ran with the pack in your games, but things are gonna change. Look around. They already are.”

#treech #treech fanfiction #treech thg #treech x reader #treech tbosas #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas #the hunger games #hunger games #district 7 #x reader #thg #no evil angel but love #neabl

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eleanore-delphinium · 1 year ago

Text

For Sauce Weekend: Day 3: "Put This On For Me"

This idea isn’t mine completely, this came from a book in goodnovel (app) titled ‘ Yearning for Her Return’. And it bothered me so this is me amending it to make it make sense.

Also, The Life of A Vampire & A Witch in the Woods, was supposed to be a halloween special. I forgot to say it there and it has bothered me for days.

And A03 link for this fic if you read there (my ff.net is fucked my stats always shows 0 for 3 months now.)

Disclaimer: Modern AU, again not really smut more on domestic fluff. CEO Dami, MATURE.

For Sauce Weekend: Day 3: "Put This On For Me"

Word Count: 10 310 (ish)

~.~.~.~.~.~

"Put This On For Me"

Damian Wayne and Rachel ‘Raven’ Roth were arranged to be married and on the evening of their wedding, Raven was shipped out of Gotham like some unwanted child after a divorce. She didn’t even get to have her long-awaited wedding night, not that she was actually anticipating it.

People had told her such wonderful things about the wedding night, all the bells and whistles you could ever think of. But she was aware that her wedding was nothing but a show and that expecting all those promises was foolish.

She knew they only told her that to comfort her.

It’s been three months since her wedding and she never saw or heard from her husband. But it didn’t matter, she had other things to worry about, like finishing up her university and getting her degree in Metropolis.

She returned to her apartment rather early in the morning, having not slept there because she was out doing a project. When she opened the door, she wasn’t really paying attention as she was tired and closed the door the moment, she opened it. Her back turned to the living room instantly. She leaned against the door as she locked it, sighing aloud.

“You should pay more attention to your surroundings.” A male voice came from behind her and she yelped, jumping to the door and hitting her head on the wood.

“God, and I married you?” The voice said and Raven turned to the voice and she gasped taking a step back, her back now pressed on the wooden door.

She’d recognize that face anywhere. Even though she had only seen him once. On their wedding ceremony.

He wore a black suit and a dark green dress shirt underneath. It matched his eyes well. He was the most handsome man Raven had ever had the honor to meet if she'd be honest. His green eyes that were locked on her were nothing less than intoxicating. Or maybe it was his effect on her. He was just that handsome.

“How- how did you get in here?” She asked, trying to breathe normally.

“I’m your husband.” He just answered back and she frowned.

“I should talk to my landlord.” She mumbled under her breath.

“I will deal with that for you, dear wife, but first we have other pressing matters to deal with.” He approached her and she watched him come closer to her.

She nervously gulped, “Like what?”

“Like the fact that you ran off right after our wedding?” There was an edge to his voice and it annoyed Raven.

She frowned and the annoyance became anger, “You were the one who sent me away!”

Damian froze and she watched his jaw tighten and his gaze turned even colder, “What?”

Raven wasn’t dumb, she could see it in his body language that he didn’t send her away. Then he continued making his way to her, she was shaking in her spot against the door. She didn’t know him on a personal level, so being afraid was quite natural.

“How about you changing your number?” He asked, putting a hand beside her head, pinning her to the wall.

She got even angrier, “What are you talking about?” She glared at him then placed both her hands on his chest, pushing him harshly, “You blocked me!” But he didn’t even budge and her hands on his firm chest felt like they were burning.

His chest was really hard underneath all the layers of clothes.

Damian’s face softened a little but not significant enough, even so, she noted how his brows looked less close to one another. His other hand that wasn’t near her head, rummaged inside his blazer pocket and she couldn’t help but look down. He took out his phone and then showed her the screen.

She pulled her head away a bit and blinked as she looked down at the screen. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the light.

After a few seconds he said, “Isn’t this your number?”

Raven frowned and then nodded.

“Then press the call button for me.” He stated as she looked up at him, looking like she wanted to say no but still did what was asked.

“Sorry, the number you have dialed is out of service.” She looked genuinely shocked hearing the robotic voice of a woman tell her that her number is out of service.

For a moment, the anger subsided, “I never changed my number…” She mumbled to which he raised a brow at her.

Then she tried to push him away again, “But you blocked me!” She countered recalling how many times she tried to reach out to him. And to prove a point, she pulled out her phone and did the same thing he did.

“This is your number, right?” She showed him his phone number on her phone and he nodded. She quickly dialed it and they got the same robotic voice.

Her husband’s angular jaw seemed sharper as he clenched his teeth. “Looks like someone is playing tricks on us.”

Raven pressed her lips, she had nothing to say, and had no idea who would go to such lengths.

“Well, now that that mystery is solved– What are you doing here?” She asked carefully and he studied her.

He smiled, a quite enchanting smile if she may add, “Well, I didn’t get to have my honeymoon.”

Her body stiffened then the words sunk it, “You sent me away!”

“I didn’t.” His smile and gaze were alluring and distracting her.

The next thing she knew, his hands were on her waist as he took one step and now his face was just a breath away. One of his hands caressed her spine.

“I didn’t block you nor did I send you away.” He inhaled deeply. “We were robbed of our own wedding night. As a responsible husband, it seems like I owe you a lot due to your grievances. That includes our first night as a couple.” He whispered and she swallowed her saliva.

Raven only realized now how deep his voice was and how dangerously close he was. His mouth was hovering over hers and, to be honest, she was anticipating the kiss. His eyes locked on her lips and she didn’t notice it but she had licked her dry lips, making the corners of his lips twitch.

The next moment his lips were on hers and the couple continued to explore each other’s mouths.

Eventually, he pulled away, “Tell me where the bedroom is or I am having you on this damn floor.”

She swallowed and raised an arm while her eyes fluttered, pointing at a door almost directly across the entrance.

He nodded and smiled at her then lifted her up by the waist. Her eyes widened as he pulled her to him and she naturally wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her with ease while also groping her ass.

Raven felt embarrassed but they were married.

“I’ve been waiting for this since our wedding ceremony, you can imagine my disappointment when I heard you just left.” There was a tinge of anger in his voice and yet, she just felt even more embarrassed by what he said.

He looked forward to fucking her?

The nervousness couldn’t be controlled, not with his implications.

The next thing she knew, she was placed gently on her bed that had white sheets and he lightly lifted her chin, “I will rectify this issue and I will treat you well, but I expect the same from you.”

She didn’t even know why, she just nodded.

He kissed her neck, “I mean I don’t want you cheating on me, wife.”

Raven snapped out of whatever trance he induced in her. She poked his shoulder harshly, “Shouldn’t I say that to you?”

He lifted his head from her neck and raised a brow at her, “And why is that?”

She frowned, “Business meetings? Women and half their tits out bouncing to get your attention?”

He chuckled casually, “I don’t think that is a business meeting, beloved.”

She choked, oh how easy it was for him to pull out a pet name for her out of thin air.

He stroked her jaw, “Don’t you think it suits you? Beloved?”

She couldn’t answer, she couldn’t even look at him. But she felt that her face was crimson red.

“We will discuss other details later, for now,” His hands found their way under her shirt and to her slim waist. “Let’s have our long-awaited wedding night.”

He was overbearing. She knew this the moment she met him. And as he tossed and turned her for hours, all she could think about was how right she was.

He was so overbearing.

He did make her feel good though. And tired.

Raven sighed as she woke, she remembered that she had a class. She tried to get out but strong arms wrapped around her.

“Where are you going?” He sounded displeased and even though her mind told her to obey, even though she was sore, she knew she had a class. So, she fought through her desire to comply with whatever he would demand of her.

“I have a class.” She mumbled trying not to shy away from his presence. She was her own person before she met him.

The strong arms that she was wrapped around with were starting to feel familiar to her and he easily pulled her back to his chest. He twisted a little, trapping her between his body weight and the bed.

“Skip it.” He just mumbled back, lips finding her neck.

“I have never skipped a class in my life.” She struggled to escape his stronghold as she spoke.

“Well, there is always a first.” He answered back and she sighed loudly. “Your husband came all the way here to Metropolis to see you. We’ve been apart for long enough. You can afford to skip a class.”

She pinched his arm hoping he would let her go, but he didn’t even flinch.

“We didn’t get the chance to get to know each other. Why don’t we take this fine opportunity, dear beloved wife?” He whispered into her ear and she stiffened. She felt him angle her body so that her butt touched his growing erection.

She gulped, “You seem to like giving me a lot of pet names.” She tried to focus on other things and refused to move an inch, but he had other plans.

He pressed himself against her supple ass, rendering her nonmovement useless, “I think ‘beloved’ suits you the most, but I have to get used to the idea of having a wife. With that said, you should call me husband so the idea doesn’t get forgotten, don’t you agree, beloved wife?” He blew against her ear.

Raven’s eyes were swimming, she couldn’t focus, not with the goliath poking at her butt.

“Wife?” He sang grinding against her with one stroke of his hips and she gasped and gripped the sheets. She couldn’t see how his lips curled up cunningly.

He really was overbearing. And she was married to him.

When he was done with prying and probing every inch of her body, yet again, he studied the woman before him. She was laying on her back on the bed, her legs spread before him forming an M, her chest rose and fell carefully with eyes glazed and lips ajar. He was kneeling in front of her between her open legs.

His hand traced her collarbone then went down between her breasts and pressed her lower abdomen as he watched his cum slip out of her slit. A soft moan came out from her lips.

Then his eyes suddenly lit up, not with desire but a sharpness that could not be identified as a good or bad sign.

“Are you on birth control?” The question from his lips made Raven wake up from her trance. She propped herself up quickly with wide eyes.

She gasped, “Oh my god! No!”

The sharpness in his gaze turned dark. “Do you not want children?” His jaws tightened but his companion did not notice this.

“Of course not!” She pulled away from his touch as she twisted and tried to get off the bed. “I have to finish university; I don’t want to be pregnant yet.”

Damian looked pleased with her answer, ‘yet’ was the word that calmed him, not that she noticed his distress. His hand wrapped around her ankle and she was suddenly pulled back to the bed, putting her in the same position she was previously laying.

She looked at him confusedly.

“I will have someone buy you some pills, so don’t worry about it.” He simply stated and all she could do was study him. “But I would like you to decide on what kind of birth control you would prefer in the long run.”

“Okay.” She quietly answered, she didn’t know why but it felt like he was talking to her like a business partner. Although to be fair, their marriage is business for their families.

He leaned down to her, “I don’t mind you getting pregnant, after all, you are my wife and there is nothing wrong with that. But since you want to focus on your studies, I will adhere to your wishes.”

With the way he looked at her, she was really convinced that this was merely business for him.

“Alright. I understand.” She repeated meekly.

Damian felt that she sounded like a schoolgirl being scolded by her teacher and he sighed. He then lifted her chin with his fingers.

“Raven,” He called her name and she looked up surprised, eyes locked onto his lips, “You are my wife, and I respect our union even if this marriage is arranged. I will treat you the way you deserve. Do not doubt that.”

She gulped nervously and nodded and he hovered over her body.

“I will deal with whoever tried to make us have this misunderstanding. You do not have to worry about anything. In the meantime, for now, we have to act as if we have not–” His finger swiped her crotch, putting stray liquid back in her, “finalized this marriage.” His green eyes were firm on her face.

He leaned back into her, his face just above hers, “I will honor this marriage and I hope you can do the same.”

She nodded and he frowned, tugging at her chin and tilting her head closer to his face, “I need words, beloved.”

“I will honor this marriage.” She answered quietly, chest rising from the tension he was causing.

He smiled and it took her breath away.

“Good.” He kissed her forehead. “I will have someone buy us new phones; we shall communicate through them as well as acquire your pills.” He pulled away as he got off the bed.

“It’s best we still keep our old phones and use the new ones to exclusively communicate with one another. We would need to make whoever is behind this plot think we haven’t made contact. And I came here in secret if you are wondering.” He explained as he picked up his phone. He could feel her eyes on him.

Was it bad that Raven kind of felt like she just made a deal with the devil?

Damian then got back onto the bed and pinned her down.

“Why did it sound like you don’t want my kids?” He suddenly asked, his sharp eyes studying her, “Other than school.”

“I’m a virgin.” She just answered instantly and he looked like he got punched.

He pulled away, the confusion on his face clear, “What?” His eyes studied her legs.

“What, looking for blood?” Her voice sounded on edge, “Men are always the same.”

She could feel his annoyance as he said, “It’s not like that.”

There was indeed an absence of blood and there was no complaining about pain. A common idea of how female virgins act when their virginity is taken from them.

He brought his lips against her ear, “You seemed to know what you were doing.” His tongue flickered on her ear.

She had placed a hand on his chest and his hand captured her fist. “It seems like you and I are very sexually compatible.” His teeth tugged at her reddened ear.

She couldn’t answer him, she didn’t know how to. There was a voice in the back of her head agreeing to his words.

And as if to prove their sexual compatibility he fucked her again. Oh and how he did her good.

“Fuck!” She swore, forcing herself to roll off of him after another round of his probing.

He groaned in disapproval. “Where are you going?” He asked her, his belly lying on the bed.

“I told you I had class.” She glared but struggled to get up. And she looked like she was about to cry, she was so sore. Who said having sex with their husband is magical? She pressed her lips as she sat up.

It was magically painful in ways she didn’t think that her body could possibly ache.

Damian honestly enjoyed seeing her struggle and seeing her bare breasts– among the general bareness of such a beautiful body.

“You know you don’t really need to go to classes physically. You can still get your degree while you're in Gotham.” He drawled, flipping over, not attempting to pull her back into bed which she was grateful for.

His words, not so much.

She glared at him as she stood up gasping with wide eyes and finding her balance, “I’m sorry we can’t be like you– graduating uni at age sixteen.” She hissed, “Oh my gosh.” She whispered leaning on her nightstand.

He shifted in the bed and she suddenly added as she turned away from him, “We can’t all have two degrees–”

“Three actually.” He cut her off and she turned to glare at him.

“Besides, I like seeing my classmates and teachers.” She added gently but the discomfort was clear in her face and in the way she moved or lack thereof.

“I didn't. Which was why I finished uni as fast as I could. Father, however, did not enjoy it and kept putting me to school.” He shrugged and pressed his lips when his wife’s face told him to shut up.

“I’m sorry for being dumb.” She muttered and he didn’t know how to respond.

“If you want to go to school, I won’t stop you. I advocate for education.” He propped himself up on the headboard, the blanket covering his lower regions.

He caught the surprise in her eyes and she nodded with a small happy smile.

“I will be right where you left me, wife.” He said with crossed arms, his eyes filled with joy from seeing his wife filled with marks he made.

And what a lovely piece of art he made indeed.

Raven absentmindedly nodded and made her way to a door at the side which he assumed was the bathroom. And indeed, it was the bathroom when he faintly heard the sound of water from a shower.

Once she was out of the bathroom, she shyly changed her clothes with an audience. She supposed she’d have to get used to it eventually. She changed her clothes with her towel still covering her up.

Raven was sore but she endured and had to cover up really well because of what her husband so graciously left on her entire body. She could feel that this relationship would not be easy or convenient.

Damian could tell she was having a hard time changing but she’ll get used to someone being in the same room. And he still enjoyed the little show. It was like peek-a-boo.

“I’ll go to school now.” She awkwardly said, her eyes trying not to look at him. His abdomen looked so goddamn nice. What the fuck!

“I’ll be right here, where you left me.” He smiled, giving her a little salute and wink.

Damian was really true to his words; he really was where she had left him by the time she returned home. He was on the bed shirtless and looking over papers.

She frowned at him, “Don’t you run a multi-million company?”

He glanced up from the paper he was holding, and she didn’t think he’d look even hotter with the eyeglasses he had on. For someone who was a virgin a few hours ago, was it bad that she could feel herself get wet at the sight?

She gulped down her desires as she anticipated his answer.

“That's what this is.” He raised the paper casually.

“Don’t you need to be there?” She tried to clear up.

He looked at her thoughtfully, she was still standing by her door. “I still haven't taken my honeymoon leave.” His eyes for the briefest second locked at a certain part of her body with the slightest hint of displeasure. But she had not noticed the very quick change.

She scrutinized his face and body language, was he serious?

He placed the papers on the side table, “I am all naked underneath waiting for your return, beloved wife.”

It took a moment, but Raven’s face turned crimson when his words sunk into her brain.

Again, he was true to his words, this was starting to feel like a honeymoon– the one filled with nothing but sex. She wasn’t even sure how she reached his side and how they got to grinding against one another’s naked bodies and moaning.

When he was done, and she calmed from her high with his body over hers on the bed. His hand slipped to one of her hands, caressing her knuckles. There was an absence of a ring on either of her hands.

Raven suddenly said, “I used to do gymnastics.”

He looked really taken aback, not understanding where this was coming from. Thankfully his mind was always sharp. He chuckled suddenly to which she frowned.

“Have you been thinking about that this entire time? While you were at school?” He asked after shaking his head. He glanced down at her and saw her serious face and he reeled in his laughter. “I believed you when you said you were a virgin. It doesn’t matter to me if you weren’t either. But now that we are married, again, I expect loyalty and faithfulness.”

“I don’t think I can handle being with another man with your libido.” She muttered, clearly not paying attention to her words and her eyes widened when she realized what she said aloud.

He laughed heartily, “Good.” He kissed her forehead.

She had to be honest, she thought he’d scold her. And then she felt his hand caressing her thigh. Ah, there it was.

Raven was sure she was being punished, but fuck was he doing it so gently and all she could do was moan into his hand. He thrust from behind her with a softness that seeped into her heart.

“I hope you kept some of those leotards, I think we can make good use of them.” He whispered hoarsely against her ear, still pounding at her. His hips hit her plump ass.

He couldn’t tell if the moans into his hand were out of agreement or just pleasure, he was more certain it was the latter, but he had to cover her mouth as she had become rather loud. He didn’t want the neighbors banging on her door.

When they were finished, he wrapped her in his arms and whispered to the exhausted woman, “Which reminds me, I got us our new phones–” He stopped, noticing that she was struggling to keep her eyes open. He kissed her forehead.

“Later then.” He mumbled, closing his eyes.

The fact that she lacked a ring did not escape his mind.

Raven’s husband had been staying with her for three days. And she had no choice but to miss some classes because of him. Much to her dismay.

And every time she went back home from her classes, he’d be propped up on the bed naked, a blanket over his legs while he read papers and with his eyeglasses on. But now it seemed that he had bought a laptop.

“Oh, I noticed you didn’t have a laptop and printer. They are yours, but as of now I am borrowing the laptop.” He nonchalantly said. She absentmindedly nodded.

Raven did need a laptop and printer for school so she was appreciative.

He didn’t look up from reading his report, “Oh, by the way, I talked to your landlord. I told him your contract is invalid.”

“What?” She glanced at him. She was making her way to her closet, used to having company now, and was planning to change. She had gotten used to his domineering personality too.

He glanced up to look at her and she studied his face trying to understand him.

It dawned on her and she replied with an edge on her voice, “Because I wrote Raven on the contract?” He frowned and she continued on, “You are making a big deal over that?”

He sighed, making her stop as she watched him take off his eyeglasses and placed it on the bed. She pressed her lips, the sight was so hot, that she couldn’t help but admit.

Raven tried not to avoid his gaze and tried to glare at him to focus that she was angry at him. The implications of an invalid contract were less than ideal.

“I don’t care if you write Rachel or Raven,” he said carefully and she looked very confused. “But you are a Wayne.”

He heard her gasp from where he was and she blinked.

“Would you rather resign the contract or move?” He asked and saw how she frowned when he suggested moving.

“I like my apartment.” She stated simply and he studied her room. He knew he could give her better.

He sighed aloud, it was clear to her that he didn’t like her answer. He reached out for a stack of paper that had a pen clipped on it as he offered it to her, “Here is the contract and sign in properly. I will give it to your landlord.”

Raven was surprised, she thought he would tell her to move. Her feet moved by themselves as she approached him and sat beside him as she took the papers from him. She signed Raven Wayne on the paper and gave it to him for checking.

She was nervous as she waited for his approval, head cast down. She didn’t even know why she was feeling like this or acting like this. She didn’t see how her husband’s lips twitched seeing her name.

“Alright.” He said and she looked up. She was still expecting him to tell her that she couldn’t stay here. From what she heard of Damian he was the excessive type. And with how he had been handling her in the short time they have been together, she can’t deny the statement.

“Oh, I have something for you.” He said and opened the drawer on the nightstand at his side. She tilted her head at him in confusion.

What else did he have for her?

Damian pulled out a black velvet box and her brows furrowed to show her confusion.

“I noticed you don’t wear your wedding ring.” He said and she stiffened and he opened the box. “I figure it’s too much for school.” He showed her the wedding set inside the box and her eyes twinkled.

“I had this made, I thought this was more to your taste.” He spoke as if they were talking about the weather.

It was a gold set of two thin band rings. One was a half eternity diamond ring and the other was a larger solitaire ring. This set was far smaller than the platinum set she got at their wedding. Being that the two-ring platinum set was filled with big diamonds stacked with another bigger diamond.

The design and appearance of the two sets were similar, an eternity ring with a solitaire diamond on one of the bands. But Raven thought the rings she got at her wedding were so gaudy she was embarrassed to be seen wearing them. And it would be too much for school as Damian pointed out. She was also certain she’d be robbed if she so casually walked around wearing the platinum set.

With Damian’s free hand stuck out, inviting her to put her hand atop his, he said, “This is just a mere placeholder for now. When I get to the bottom of who is trying to fuck with our relationship and when you are ready, we will go and have something made which fits both our preferences.”

Raven slipped her hand on top of his and watched him slide the two rings onto her finger and she was surprised by the perfect fit. Though, now that she thought about it, was there really something her husband couldn’t do?

“I was rather upset to see that you didn’t wear any kind of a ring as a placeholder to show that you are married.” He sighed putting her hand down and he reached out to his other hand playing with a ring on his ring finger that she didn’t even realize he had one on until now. “I always wear mine.”

His ring was three-toned, mostly black, but had gold and platinum on it. She would like to say it was simple, but with three colors on it, it clearly wasn’t.

“I’m sorry…” She couldn’t help but mumble, finding the new set on her finger with her other hand. “And thank you.”

He smiled thinly, eyes on her fingers brushing her wedding rings.

“Alright, when you figure things out we’ll go to a jeweler.” She mumbled and he nodded.

Just when she was about to stand up, he grabbed her wrist. And he pulled her to him.

“But now I must welcome my wife home.” He smirked as he watched her eyes widen.

Again. This man always gets what he wants. Though, he could have forced her hand and made her move, but he didn’t.

Maybe this time her spreading her legs for him was to show her silent gratitude that he didn’t force her hand and made her move. But maybe not, once his body touched hers it was like her skin was aflame. Memories of how good he fucks her would flash into her mind like a flash flood and she just can’t think straight.

And God, he really fucks her good.

They had finished yet another passionate moment and the two were cuddling in each other’s arms. Her head rested on his chest as she listened to his steady heartbeat. His hand caressed her arm.

“I think I know what I want for my long-term contraceptive.” She whispered, fingers playing with the curves of his abdomen muscles. For a second, she wondered if he really had a desk job as a CEO and all. How does he have time to work out?

“Oh? What is it?” He asked, breaking her chain of thought. He pulled away from her and shifted her in his arms so they could gaze at one another.

“I want an implant.” She stared at his eyes. She had thought about it. With his libido and her studies, this sounded… well sound. The best option so she didn’t have to think about taking contraceptive pills or injections on a regular basis.

She thought that he would say no, but he surprised her again, “Alright, I will arrange a hospital appointment for tomorrow.”

She thought he would say no, but she didn’t expect that he would set an appointment just like that.

Damian saw how his wife frowned and he kissed her forehead, “It is a good choice, beloved, I don’t mind you getting pregnant.” He squeezed her in his arms briefly. “I can take care of you and our child. But we have to pretend like we have not met since our wedding. I’m still looking into who is trying to screw our marriage up. It would be a problem if everyone believed you were fooling around with someone else and that's how you wound up pregnant.” He sighed into her hair.

He made a very reasonable explanation and she nodded her head that was against his firm chest.

Yet still, he didn’t argue with her. She was certain that he could have. He could get what he wanted by force. And yet, he didn’t.

His attitude was starting to become endearing for Raven, even his arrogance.

Damian has been staying in her apartment for almost a week now and every time she arrived home she wished and hoped he would have already left. At this point, it’s what she hoped for because his sexual libido was so high she believed she couldn’t handle it. But every time he made a move she couldn’t say no, like quite literally the word disappeared from her mind. And she winds up in various positions with him.

She was convinced that he was right about their sexual compatibility.

Again, she entered her bedroom to see Damian on the bed. The same way he always was when she got home. But it was clear that he was very upset over something as he read the paper in his hands.

Raven studied her room, she realized that their clothes from their latest rendezvous were still scattered on the floor. Only at this moment did she realize that he cleans up the bedroom by the time she comes back from school or even when she is in the shower, but he’d always be on the bed when she reenters her bedroom.

She picked up his boxers, “Put this on for me.” She tossed it on the bed.

It appeared that he didn’t even realize that she had returned. Whatever troubles he had, it appeared to be deep. But the moment she spoke, his face softened and he glanced at his boxers and scrunched up his face.

He clicked his tongue and she thought he would say no. But she knew better now, she should not approach the bed because he would have her on her back the second, she was in arms reach.

To her surprise, he reached for the boxers and heaved a sigh, likely a show that he didn’t like what she was asking. He got out of the bed and he was indeed naked underneath the sheets like always.

Raven quickly looked away; she still wasn’t sure how that fit in her.

“You act like you weren’t enjoying this just before you left.” He chided pulling his boxers on and her face turned red. She felt even more embarrassed.

“Can’t you learn to put on clothes?” She rebuked helplessly. He just chuckled at her response.

“I don’t have clothes here.” He innocently answered and she glared at him.

“I’ve seen your bodyguards or whatever the hell they are, I know you ask them to bring you boxers.” She crossed her arms as she looked at him. She was thankful he had bottoms on, but that well-toned body was still distracting. “You can ask them to bring you more than just boxers.”

He shrugs at her casually, “It’s not like I plan to leave any time soon.”

Raven’s eyes were starting to stray and so were her thoughts. She quickly turned around and cleared her throat, “I will make us dinner and I would like it if you are there with me.”

She didn’t try to argue with him as she knew it would be useless.

She didn’t need to ask him to join her, truth be told, normally he’d follow her around if she decided to cook or if she went out of the bedroom. But this was the first time that she asked him to go with her to the kitchen. She didn’t see it but there was a very happy smile on Damian’s lips.

“Alright.” He replied after clearing the smile off his face, sounding casual and whatever.

Raven didn’t take a peek at him because she knew she would swoon and if he laid his hand on her she’d jump him. She coughed to clear her throat and her naughty thoughts.

In the kitchen, Raven was cutting a carrot and he sat across the counter watching her in all his shirtless glory. His chest had claw marks from her, but at this point, she was way past being embarrassed. His choice of not wearing clothes for almost a week has trained her eyes and mind to the sight. Thankfully, he would wear his boxers when outside the bedroom, but other than that, he was virtually naked as he stayed in her apartment.

He had a strained smile on his face as he watched her.

“What is it?” She pouted, glancing at him.

“I genuinely enjoy your cooking and the fact that you enjoy cooking for me.” He emphasized each word and she frowned as she stopped chopping. “But I admit my palette is used to world-renowned chefs.”

Raven put down her knife, “So, you’re saying my cooking sucks?”

He approached her, placing a hand on the counter, and genuinely said, “No, your cooking is superb, beloved.” He smiled and she actually believed his sincerity. It felt like he was radiating truthfulness from his very pores.

Or maybe because the sex was so good, she couldn’t get mad at him. He literally just said her cooking sucks by implying he only eats from some classy chef. But they were married and already fucking so she has to endure his attitude, right? Fuck!

Raven was chewing on her lower lip and he placed a thumb against her lip making her stop.

“I am a picky eater; I won’t deny that. If it isn’t a chef I approve of, I don’t eat the dish.” He spoke.

She wanted to bite his thumb. And to think she had been cooking for him out of the goodness of her heart.

“It’s why I learned how to cook.” It felt like Damian had dropped a bomb on Raven. Her feet were unsteady.

“What?” She almost chuckled as she studied him, “You cook?” She raised a brow at him.

He smiled politely, “Yes and I truly love your cooking,” The sincerity in his eyes was something she could not deny. His hands found her waist. “But let me cook for you this time.”

Damian swiftly pulled her to him and their lips were so close to one another that she was expecting a kiss at the back of her mind. Raven gulped as her eyes locked on his mouth.

He turned themselves around, exchanging spots with his lovely wife. Then he pulled away quite easily from their contact.

“Alright?” He smiled at her and took a step back, reaching for the knife. “I can make do with these ingredients, but I will have my men buy better ingredients for you as always.”

Raven hummed a response, having no choice but to watch him. She went and sat down on the seat where he would always sit when he watched her cook. And damn it, she felt so fucking stupid.

Damian was cooking like he himself was some world-renowned chef! How the hell did he let her make him just sit and watch her cook?

She was utterly speechless and embarrassed. She must have looked like a buffoon.

When he was plating the dish he made, adding the last leaf on the plate he said, “Plating matters too, beloved.”

She wished she could make a snarky remark but the dish he put before her was so beautiful. With the same ingredients, she couldn’t possibly make such a beautiful dish.

Damian tilted his head when he placed the plate before her but she did not move.

“Le-let’s see how it tastes then!” She grabbed the plate and turned around from him. He could tell that she was embarrassed by how red her ears were, but he didn’t point it out.

“How is it?” He instead asked as he walked around the counter and slipped a hand on her lower back.

“Oh, God and I cooked for you?” She looked up at him with her back arched forward, eyes watery.

His Adam’s Apple bobbed at the sight. A similar image of how she looked right now overlapped in his mind, and it was a very very different kind of image, that of when he would confine her in her bedroom to have some fun.

He cleared his throat, “Sit up properly.” He gently told her and rubbed her back upward briefly. She instantly did what was told and he withdrew his hand from her back.

Raven was temptation incarnate for him. A seductress.

And what's worse is that she doesn't know how much she could ignite his desire for her with one flick of her wrist.

“I feel so embarrassed cooking for you.” She admitted in a soft voice and he was surprised.

“What? No.” He stood in front of her and pinned her by placing his hands on the counter that was behind her. “Your cooking is world-class.”

She pressed her lips as she looked up at him. God, his sincerity was intoxicating.

“I should know. I have expensive tastes.” He stated nonchalantly.

He watched her glance down at her plate with a soft smile.

The next thing she knew, her head was lifted up and they shared a kiss. A rather chaste kiss.

Maybe even the first chaste kiss since their wedding. Honestly, quite comparable to the chaste kiss at their wedding.

“I wish I could stay longer, beloved, but I am needed back in Gotham.” He confessed softly.

“Oh.” She grabbed her fork and tried to prepare a bite of the food he made. “Well, I can finally take a break from you.”

He wished he could get mad or laugh, but he felt neither emotion at her words. He did wish he could just be with her.

“Oh, don’t go celebrating yet.” He leaned to her, bringing his mouth near her ear. “When I return, you and I both know I will make you regret being happy that I’m leaving right now.”

Damian felt her body stiffen and he smirked. “But for now, let us enjoy our remaining time together.”

And they did. They enjoyed their time together, laughing a little. His hands strayed on her body but never did more. He had texted his men to bring him a fresh suit complete with all his accessories.

He showered in her bathroom and used her things. He smelled like her and it made her blush. He was adjusting the cuff of his white shirt from under his dark blue suit’s jacket cuff.

This was the third time she had seen him in a suit. He looked colder, yet still hot. He smelled of her and yet looked like the boss that he was.

Oh my God. She was gushing.

And so was her pussy.

“Oh, before I forget.” He looked up at her and she stared at him with wide eyes and a smile trying to think of anything but how he made her feel. “I will pay you back for the rent you paid on the apartment.”

She looked confusedly at him and was about to argue but he raised a hand and she pressed her lips shut.

“It’s my responsibility, and besides, I want to do it.” He looked at her as if he was inspecting a product for his company, at least that is what Raven felt like he was doing. He then pulled out his wallet and handed her two cards. “One is a credit card, buy whatever the hell you want, it doesn’t have a limit. The other is an ATM card. Your allowance from me will be deposited every month on the same date as our wedding day. I placed the money you paid for the rent of this apartment in there along with the allowance I owe you since you've been staying here since our wedding.”

She sucked in her lips and stared at the items he was holding out for her. She licked her lips and he patiently waited for her to accept it.

Raven wanted to reject it, but with one quiet glance at his calm face she knew he wouldn’t allow it. And the thing was, she was surprised that he even remembered their wedding day and was going to give her an allowance on the same date every month.

After a minute or two passed she nodded her head and sighed as she took a step forward and reached out for the cards. “Thank you…” She mumbled.

Damian was pleased that she took the cards and she could tell.

His hand reached out and cupped her face and she looked at him. He kissed the top of her head.

"Rachel Wayne." She mumbled reading the names on the cards.

"Rachel is your legal name. Unless you want to change it to Raven, in that case, tell me and I will have it arranged." Everything that came out of Damian's mouth was factual. It's just how he always talked.

"Wayne. I'm a Wayne." She muttered and he pressed his lips atop her ear.

"Yes, that's right." He whispered with a sigh.

FIN.

~.~.~.~.~.~

BONUS SCENE:

Damian and Raven's relationship was pretty good. She was still in Metropolis over a year later and he'd visit her often since they reunited.

"Augh, I hate this city," Damian said, glaring at the city by the ceiling to the floor window in their apartment.

Raven rolled her eyes, she had known him long enough, he was baiting her.

"You'd rather I finish uni in Gotham?" She asked, of course, she'd still bite.

He turned to look at her thoughtfully, "I suppose it's safer here." He answered as he always does when she asks him if she should go back to Gotham.

He placed her safety a priority, something she noticed fairly quickly since they started a relationship with one another.

She no longer lived in the apartment where they reunited after their wedding; due to the frequency of his visits her former apartment became too small. You’d think he’d respect her space, but somehow, he started taking up so much space in her apartment that she had no choice but to suggest moving.

Damian of course moved her to a high-rise with a great view and space that was way too big for just them. He had come by to help her move and had stayed ever since, helping her adjust and arrange their apartment.

She was convinced he purposely took up so much space in her previous apartment so she would move to a bigger ‘safer’ apartment that he of course chose and showed her just as fast as when she suggested moving.

It seemed planned is what she was saying. But still, he had wormed his way to her heart that she could not find a flaw to what he did, that is if he really did it.

"You always say you hate it here." She mumbled as she reached out for his waist with both arms and embraced him.

"It's bright." He answered, enjoying her warmth.

She never understood what he meant by that.

"Well, anyway," She pulled her head away and glanced up at him, "I have to go, I need to meet some classmates for a project."

He studied her and said, "Why don't I join you?"

She laughed, shaking her head, "Your face is rather well known, I wouldn't want my classmates to be intimidated by you."

She pulled away from his hold turning around.

"I can wear a hat and sunglasses." He followed her and she paused then turned to him.

"Hmm… Alright." She agreed with a soft smile on her lips.

"I won't be a bother." He promised.

And as always, he was true to his words. When he went to the bathroom and was about to return to her side, Damian heard her friend ask why her husband was wearing a beanie that covered his ears and dark sunglasses.

"Oh, he is sensitive about his hair and he got a terrible eye infection..." He frowned at her lie.

He stepped out from his hiding spot and kissed his wife, "Oh, what are you talking about, beloved?"

"Oh, you know, how best to do this paper," Raven answered calmly.

He just smiled. But the moment they got back home, he pinned her to the door and whispered hoarsely.

"So, I'm balding?" He asked as he pulled the beanie off his head and to the floor. His black thick and luscious hair shone against the light coming from their windows.

Quite the opposite of what she had just made her classmate believe.

Her eyes widened in realization and she pressed her lips as she reached out to remove his sunglasses. "And with an eye infection." She whispered back seriously, tossing the shades away too.

"I will have to punish you." He said, pressing her by the arch of her ass against his hips.

"I know, for being caught." She sighed, and she could feel his erection on her lower abdomen.

He chuckled, "Well, for lying." His tongue licked the curve of her ear.

When the punishment was done and she was sprawled on the bed, lying on her belly, he caressed her hair.

"I hope you don't lie often." He told her with a dark tone in his voice.

She understood his implications. With how the two grew closer even if it was just a glance she could tell what he wanted to convey to her. He was the same with her.

"I don't lie about being married." She whispered, and his face softened. The answer to the question that was never truly asked.

"Good." He scooched over to her side, his crotch pressed against the side of her hip as he littered her shoulder with kisses.

She sighed, closing her eyes, but also refusing to move. If she moved the thing pressed on her side would wake up instantly and she'd be done for. Not that she couldn't tell that it was starting to stir. But if she didn't move, her husband wouldn't either.

"Which reminds me," He pulled his head away from her shoulder and her skin was relieved of the pressure pressing on her thigh. He laid on his side and she turned her head towards him with curious eyes. "I'm transferring to Metropolis."

"What?" Raven propped herself up a little with her confusion clear in her face and voice. He never talked about this before.

He should feel some form of displeasure with her reaction. At least he thought he should because it would seem like she wasn't happy with the news. But he felt calm.

"With how frequently I visit it seems impractical to stay in Gotham." He explained gently and he watched her eyes widen as a soft blush appeared on her cheeks. Maybe this was why he didn't feel upset, he knew her like the back of his hand. Unconsciously he must have known that her confusion was not because she didn't want him here.

"I made plans with Father, and I will be stationed here for the time being as you finish uni. Thank God Wi-Fi exists, it will make this transfer seamless." He smiled at her and she cupped his face.

"You'll be here every day?" She whispered, brushing his cheek with her fingertips. The excitement on her face was clear.

"Yes." He whispered back, snuggling near her.

Then suddenly her eyes widened in fear, "Then you need to control yourself." She poked his shoulder and he chuckled.

At first, he was afraid that she didn't want him here but then understood why she was scared. The fear wasn’t unfounded.

"Oh, whatever do you mean." Damian blinked innocently.

"I'm serious, Dami, if you expect me to spread my legs every day– I'm moving." She stared at him and the smile on his lips was wiped off his face.

"Do not threaten me, beloved." He responded, darkness brewing in his aura.

"I'm serious. I have school." She did not back down. She knew him and she knew he almost always followed her lead no matter what.

He sighed aloud, and then again while he looked away and then one more time. "We'll arrange something."

Damian reached for his wife's waist and buried his face on the side of her shoulder. But she could tell he was pouting. He had actually stuck his lower lip but she couldn't see that.

His libido was really something even after a year he didn't show any signs of not being turned on by her. Though, to be honest, she was the same.

The moment he'd pin her down and the desire was clear in his eyes, she got so wet. It didn't matter if she was exhausted from school, she'd strip without him even asking.

She recalled what he told her so long ago, "We really are sexually compatible."

He looked up from her side with wide eyes gazing at her and his eyes sparkled as a smile bloom.

"I have to agree, beloved." His love for her is clear in those beautiful green eyes.

"We'll make it work; we always do."

Put This On Me: Graduation Gift

Raven had no regrets about the birth control that she chose. Sometimes she'd wake up the next day after their midnight sessions thinking that she forgot to take the pill.

Then she remembers that she has an implant.

Her burst of fear of an unexpected pregnancy always came after several rounds of fucking from her husband especially when he goes all out for a couple of days straight.

Currently, she was looking out at the city through their apartment window in their living room. When she woke up this morning she had a little burst of fear, yet again. Which was why she was thinking about her birth control.

They've been together for almost four years but gosh was he built differently.

Strong arms wrapped around her body from behind.

"You're graduating soon." He mumbled against her shoulder and she leaned back to him.

"In a few months." She reminded him.

One of his hands was now on one of her shoulders and the other snaking down to her lower abdomen. "What do you think of a baby for your graduation gift?"

She froze. She knew there was a reason for her unreasonable pregnancy scare. She swatted his hands and stepped away from him. "Not yet."

He sighed and studied her back.

"I want to work first." She turned to look at him.

"You can work for me." He answered immediately and she rolled her eyes. Her eyes locked at his dress shirt collar and she took a step closer and fixed his collar for him.

"If you had your way, you would just have me on your desk panting and moaning, I'm sure." She clicked her tongue and noticed how he bit his bottom lip lustfully and she shook her head but still smoothened his shirt of invisible wrinkles. He had strong pecs.

One of his hands slipped onto her upper spine and slid down to her lower waist pulling her closer to him and she gasped, "Well, then what would my beloved wife want for her graduation gift?"

His eyes looked down at her softly.

"Hmm, I don't know." She admitted.

"Really a no to having a baby?" He asked again with a boyish smile. She giggled at him.

"Hmm, I will have to think about that." Her hand reached out for his black tie, then suddenly tugged at it bringing his face closer to her, "But while I do, you can use it for some sexy dirty talk." She licked her lips.

"Well, don't mind if I do…" He leaned down and captured her lips.

"Doesn't the thought of you pregnant as you get your hard-earned diploma hot, beloved?" He whispered to her kissing her neck and she smiled. She didn't mean for him to do it at this very instant, but God was this man insatiable. "Or maybe– imagine, you accepting your diploma with my cum tightly clenched inside you? Considering how often you are taking in my cock in your tight pussy.”

She choked at the visuals he was painting for her. She felt his teeth tug at her ear as he continued on, “How many times did you fuck me before going to school? Or how many times you went to your classes with my fresh cum still in that naughty pussy? Or when your first meal is my dick.”

Raven’s face was red. She was now regretting telling him to use it for dirty talk.

“Tell me beloved, what would be written in your diploma, Master’s Degree of sucking cock?” His voice had become hoarse and Raven was breathless, “Masters of my dick?” His lips sucking on her ear.

She regrets it. But she also felt the need to fight him back. She was also very embarrassed by his words. She tugged at his tie, making him pull away from her ear. She stared at him seriously.

“On the note of graduation day,” Her free hand brushed the buttons on his shirt. “Should I be completely naked underneath the graduation gown?” This time it was her turn to whisper in his ear.

She felt his body tense up.

This was something she knew to be a fact. Damian was the jealous type.

“In that case, I will buy you the gown and we can use it in the bedroom.” She thought she could hear his teeth grinding. The flirtiness disappeared from his voice.

Raven smirked; it was her win.

Another thing she noticed about her husband, he didn’t even like the thought of someone possibly seeing her in any potentially suggestive way. He rarely vocally object, sometimes he’d make a face, but she could always tell when he didn't like it when someone looked at her in the wrong way for even just a second.

She would notice how his cold face would change on a micro level when she purposely wore a dangerously short skirt or a really revealing outfit. But he had only told her to change clothes a couple of times since they'd been married. All of which were outfits she wore on purpose to see his bottom line. Still, he rarely says his objections but often she can tell when he doesn't like something.

She looped his tie around her hand, “In that case, we can pretend you're the professor, and I, your naughty student.”

It was clear that he wasn’t happy, “Is there a hot professor I didn’t know about?”

He knows her classmates and her teachers but Raven thinks this is the first time he sounded threatened by a teacher she randomly mentioned.

She studied her husband’s face, it seemed that he was riding his jealousy. “Hmm, hotter than my husband? Quite impossible.” She let go of his tie and placed both her hands on his chest as she rubbed his torso soothingly.

“Then why the professor suggestion?” He quietly asked and she sighed.

“I was thinking you were my hot professor.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he still wasn’t convinced.

In all the years that they had been together, he was often cockier than not, but very rarely he would show her this side of him. Uncertain and unsure, so opposite from how the whole world perceived him.

A man who knows what he wants and gets it without fail.

Damian was often gentle towards her. The only time he'd be rough was during sex. But unsure of himself? Rarely.

“About the baby…” She watched him carefully and it seemed to have caught his attention. He stared at her as he waited for her to continue. “In a few more years, I promise.”

She saw the small smile on his face as the uncertainty disappeared which turned to a gentleness in his demeanor that honestly made her swoon.

“A baby?” He smiled as his hands found her waist. “Then I’ll have to start looking for our future home with our children.” He said dreamily, there was this softness on his face that tugged at her heart. How could he easily make her swoon and wet in mere seconds?

“Children?” She ventured, eyes carefully observing his face.

“One is not enough.” He answered back in a quieter voice. No hint of doubt on his face but the volume of his voice might say otherwise. Yet, it was just factual to him, that much she could tell.

She smiled and leaned her forehead against his jaw, “Hmm, you’re always right, beloved.” Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he hugged her back with his muscled arms around her waist.

There was clear surprise in his eyes at her words but he smiled and pressed his upturned lips against her temple.

He was going to have a family with her. Even if their marriage was arranged, he was happy and excited for their future. He was glad he married her.

"Our fifth wedding anniversary is coming around the corner too. How about another wedding as your graduation gift?" He whispered and Raven pulled away looking up at him with wide eyes. "One where we profess our love and where we plan the wedding the way we actually want it."

She smiled brightly. "I don't think that's a graduation gift." And she saw how his lips were about to frown, she quickly added. "It's a gift for a lifetime."

She watched her husband's tan cheeks flush at her words.

"I love you."

FIN.

~.~.~.~.~.~

A/N:

Well, in the book I read the couple got married, she got shipped out on their wedding night and they never met for like 3-5 years. Apparently, they tried calling each other but only to hear that the number is out of service. And the two knew each other since childhood tho still arranged (and forced) marriage, but still you’d think someone would go find the other. So, this is me coping.

And I still don’t know why they were getting ‘out of service’ when they called each other.

And then the image of Damian naked but with a blanket over his legs working on the bed with eyeglasses on was stuck in my mind and so I decided to use it here. It also makes sense to me in modern AUs that Damian is cocky. On Modern AU notes, I have like 3 on my drafts with cocky Dami because I was inspired.

I didn’t even think I would participate too, I wrote this in a few hours in a span of a couple of days. I am impressed but this is also rushed. And I do have some other bonus scene ideas floating currently in my head. But this is already quite long so, maybe I might dump it somewhere, one day. (11/16/23, I do not remember what I had planned, but I will keep this here, so I know that I did at one point. I think one was about the wedding.)

I thought that using the line “Put This On For Me” in this manner would be unique. Which also drove me to write, but it took a while to get there. I think the common thing people would think when they see this line is some sexy outfit. So doing the opposite really called to me.

And if someone is going to ask why the sexy is like that, I am still traumatized from writing smut. There was a time I was writing 5 different smut scenes back-to-back… it left an impression. I can write it if I don’t think about it, but it’s something I have to think about most of the time to write so…it’s hard… anyway…

Before I forget, the end of the bonus scene and the graduation gift, who said it is up for your interpretation, maybe even they said it both.

And to add, in my head this Raven attended college or uni later than normal.

Hope you guys enjoyed it.

Ciao.

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violet27writes · 1 month ago

Text

Whumptober Day 9: Panic Room - Warriors

Part 1 (Legend), Part 2 (Twilight), Part 3 (here) of (10), Ao3 link

- Warriors-

Screaming. All Warriors could hear were the screams. They just didn’t stop.

Sometimes he could almost make out who it was, or would be left to try and guess the owner of the sound. Sometimes he could almost make out their words. But he wouldn’t have to try and guess their emotions.

Most of them screamed in fear or agony, blood-curdling and spine chilling. Some with grief, a sadness that seemed to upturn his soul. And some even still were full of pure rage, blind and reckless. The latter of the voices didn’t last long.

The past few hours had been nothing short of torture for him.

---

A portal had opened beneath him on the battlefield, leaving Warriors unable to do anything besides fall straight into it. It brought him into a camp full of turncoat soldiers that wasted no time seizing him and locking him in their dungeon. His pride had sung for a moment as he was able to fell a handful of them before getting overwhelmed, but that had instantly plummeted as they cuffed him to the wall.

Everything but his undertunic and trousers had been taken, leaving him defenseless. His toes barely brushed the stone ground, leaving him with a touch of humility.

The pace of how fast he had gone from battlefield to dungeon was astonishing; from a Captain to a prisoner. While there was nothing he could’ve done otherwise, he couldn’t help but berate himself for getting caught. Now, he could only hope that the others hadn’t fallen into a similar mess. Well, that, and figure out how to get himself out of this mess.

The chains tugged on his wrists, pushing on and cutting into his skin. He could feel several places on his body that were sure to leave at least a bruise. Too deep of a breath made his left ribs light up in pain. The turn coats hadn’t shied away from their beatings. Warriors sighed, setting his head back against the wall.

That was, perhaps, the calm before the storm. The quiet before the screams.

---

Now, the Captain's head hung low, eyes closed as he tried his best to block out the sound. Useless. Worthless. Failure.

This was his timeline. He was their hero. Yet here he was, caught and tied up, framed on the wall to be kept out of the way. Listening to these people suffer. To his people crying out.

He was so zoned in on not listening, he didn’t hear the heavy armored steps walking up to his cell until the door slammed open against the stones. The voices hadn't stopped, but they had become more scarce, for good or bad. No longer a macabre choir, but dreadful solos that he couldn’t anticipate. Because of that, he could hear the emotions stronger than before and wished for a long moment that he could lose his sense of hearing, just to put a stop to this.

However, once he saw the face of the person opening his cell, that wish changed in an instant.

The room felt like it had gone several degrees colder. The air felt thicker. The haze of his mind cleared in a moment, no longer allowing himself to be only partly present. She stood tall. Confident. Sure. There was no mask to mar her features, easily allowing Warriors to meet her eyes and feel like his gaze had frozen. It was nothing but fear and panic that kept them locked.

Cia laughed.

She stepped into the cell and right up to him, never averting her gaze from him. Then she smiled, perfect teeth to go along with the feeling she gave that said she was the one in charge. After all, that feeling was all she knew.

A dark hand reached towards him, causing Warriors to straighten up and flatten against the wall. A cold shiver ran down his spine at the same time a tremble bled into his hands. It was a good thing they were stuck on the wall, lest they’d have shaken.

Her long nails stopped only a hair’s breadth away from his chest, pausing before she lowered her hand, staring especially hard where he knew he’d taken a good hit on the chin earlier. In the corner of his eye he could see a deep bruise, a deep purple that starkly contrasted his skin.

“Link,”

She said in a way that couldn’t have even been described as sickeningly sweet. It was like a predator whispering sweet nothings to its prey before it struck. Like the promises of a man about to kill for his version of justice.

Warriors turned his face away.

“Now this won’t do, won’t it?

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe warriors #whumptober #whumptober 2024 #Day 9 #no.2 #no. 3 #whump #or something like that #I swear i think im doing bringing back everyone's 'girlfriend'#It wasn't purposely in this order #anyway #i wrote this instead of sleeping #like always #so goodnight

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bumblebeehug · 3 months ago

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Lovely Seasons - Winter

Summary: Lucy has the worst morning known to human kind, until Natsu comes to her rescue. Notes: If you're wondering where Happy is during all of this, no you don't. Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 of the Lovely Seasons series Ao3

***

Lucy slowly sat up, blinking and rubbing out the crust that had appeared in her eyes during the night. A tired yawn managed to escape her lips before she could check the clock. 7:30 in the morning. She groaned to herself. She fell asleep late last night, not being able to drop the book she was reading, and barely getting 6 hours of sleep made her feel cranky. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the sun wouldn’t rise in another two hours and the temperature outside made her house feel colder than usual. It was an abnormally cold winter, rarely rising above -10 degrees Celsius, and due to her not paying enough rent last month, the landlady had cut down on her heating. Usually that would be fine, since Magnolia’s weather was quite warm most of the time, but without the blessings of a merciful winter and without her human heater constantly hanging around, the apartment got ruthlessly cold.

In an attempt to properly wake up she placed her bare feet on the floor. Leaving the warm comfort of her bed was unappealing to say the least, and feeling the coldness against the soles of her feet made her cringe. Without bothering to put on slippers or socks, she hurried to the bathroom. A warm, long shower was the only salvation this morning could have. As she entered the bathroom she once again regretted the lack of socks, since the tiled floor was multiple times colder than the wooden floor in her bedroom. With goosebumps all over her body she sped up her movements, turning the knob in her shower to the highest heat.

Another mistake, she soon learned. After having stripped down she felt the water with her hand, and the dropping temperature of the high streaming water only meant one thing - the hot water had run out, rapidly changing to cooler and cooler degrees.

“No, no, no!” In an attempt to savour the last bit of barely comfortable water, she immediately jumped in the shower, focusing on just wetting her hair so she could pour shampoo into it and rinse it out before she turned to an actual ice block. No matter if this day seemed to have everything against her, she was determined to get clean - even if that meant cutting down her shower time from 45 minutes to 5. Every muscle got stiff as she hurried to lather her hair, and breathing became a chore for her frozen body. Even concentrating to the fullest, she felt the lungs move in spasms.

Lucy had never been good with the cold. Not even after living on the streets for a year after running away from home, had she gotten used to the fierce sensation of getting robbed off her body heat. On the other hand, warm weather had never been a challenge. Anywhere with a hot climate was the ideal vacation spot for her, since she’d much rather sweat like a pig than not being able to feel her hands and feet from being so cold. Maybe her body’s natural agreement with warmth was one of the reasons she and Natsu got along so well. Though, given that he wasn’t here to heat up the apartment at the moment, he wasn’t on her best side currently.

As soon as she felt the lathered shampoo leave her hair completely, she turned off the tap and practically pounced her fluffy towels. From the last few weeks she had learned that any body part left wet would be freezing cold if she didn’t wipe herself dry the second she came out of the shower. She was in fact so fast at drying herself off and getting clothed today that she probably beat a personal record - and luckily for her, she could still use her hair dryer, so no cold, wet, dripping down her back today.

Though, just as things were starting to look up, she encountered yet another problem as she stepped out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. The dishwasher hadn’t gotten turned on last night, so she had to hand wash her cup before using it, which usually was a manageable job, but that became tedious now that she had no warm water. To add to that, she was fully out of oatmeal which meant that she’d have to go out to buy more when the stores opened in a few hours. Even if she didn’t have to plough through snow, the strong winds and the frosty air was more than enough to go through even her thickest, warmest jacket, and if she were to actually arrive at the market, there was no telling if they’d be open today. A lot of fresh fruit didn’t handle the cold well, and anything tightly sealed into glass bottles would likely expand and explode if they didn’t stay inside.

Since Lucy had nowhere close to enough energy to deal with that now, she decided to grab her kettle, make it across the kitchen towards the stove, and OUCH!

“Shit, crap, fucking ass- fuckhorse!!” Lucy howled as she jumped around on one leg, trying to get her big toe on her second leg to stop pulsing. “There’s no fucking way this is happening to me today!” She stumbled across the room once again, this time aiming for the kitchen table so she could sit down and inspect the injury. The kettle was forgotten the second she put it down, and she immediately threw off her slipper and her sock that she had properly remembered to put on after the shower..

Just her luck. She was bleeding under her toenail, which meant weeks of taking care of this insignificant but maddening injury. Wendy was about as locked inside as Lucy was, so no magical cure for this one. At this point she was holding back tears. Nothing could have prepared her for how unlucky she was today. Yesterday had been a good day, same as most of her previous days, where she enjoyed the stillness of being alone with her own thoughts in her apartment. No jobs or missions to rush to, no worrying about destruction and lack of payment, no Natsu to burn her couch and no Happy to scratch her walls. She ate good meals, played music and danced, and now this - no heat, no warm water, no clean dishes, out of her favourite breakfast and now an injured toe. It felt like the spirits were against her. The mixture of exasperation and exhaustion made her throat thicken, and the pressure from holding back tears made her head hurt. It was still early in the morning, and she already wanted to go back to bed and sleep until the next day - or better, she could sleep until spring and skip the depressing gray life that came with the winter months.

As Lucy’s nose started getting stuffy, an angel sailed down from heaven and sang the most beautiful melody known to the human race. Well, no, her doorbell rang, but it was practically the same thing, because she sensed from the reckless stomping up the hallway that her hot headed best friend had decided to come to visit.

“Lucy? Ya home?” Normally his cheery voice would feel like a punch to the gut after having a bad day, since any sign that people could live happily while bad things happened only to her, would feel like mockery. Today however, she was just glad to no longer be alone with this dull atmosphere dragging her down.

She hurried to the door, not without limping a bit, to unlock it for him. As the door swung open, Lucy couldn’t stop her lip from quivering, threatening to burst out into tears just from seeing his face. She was so, so, happy he was here.

Natsu himself however felt his grin fade the moment their eyes met.

“Hey, what’s the matter? Did anything happen? What’s goin’ on?” Lucy barely noticed him dropping off two grocery bags by the entry, before he gently grabbed her arms. The tender look in his eyes was the final blow for her - she felt so angry and sad at the world, yet she had never felt so seen and cared for as she did when Natsu came. The dam was broken and the waterfalls were set loose, and she was hiccuping and hulking like a child failing to communicate its emotions.

“My… my…” she began, “My toe huuurts” She couldn’t stop herself from crying out, unable to form any other words to explain her out of place behaviour.

“What?”

“My- my- my thoe-” With sobs cracking through her voice it was hard to talk any clearer, but luckily for her she didn’t have to explain any further.

“Oh my god- Lucy, you’re bleeding! Hey- come here.” With a swift motion he scooped her up from her feet, immediately heading for the bathroom. “How did things end up like this?” He wasn’t expecting an answer - not yet anyways. Inside of the bathroom he sat her down on the toilet lid, immediately tending to the swollen toe.

At the same time Lucy was trying to collect herself. It was embarrassing enough that she had broken down like this in front of him, but now he probably thought she was weeping over a stubbed toe. It really wasn’t fair, she thought, because she wasn’t crying because of her frustration. She was incredibly happy right now, to have Natsu there to help her cope with her unfortunate day. If he had caught her just a moment earlier she wouldn’t have broken down like that - she’d be upset and short tempered, sure, but nothing like this.

Thanks to her manual breathing, she calmed down significantly. Not enough to actually stop the consistent flow of tears, but now she wasn’t gasping for air in panic anymore.

“Thanks for helping me,” Lucy sniffled. “And sorry for scaring you.”

Natsu, who just finished putting a bandaid around the now purple nail, looked up at her with a gentle smile.

“No worries. Stuff happens, right?” Though his words told her that he was fine not knowing what was going on, his face was clearly searching for the explanation to her behaviour.

“Well,” a sob slipped out, “I guess it does.” She wanted to tell him about her morning, she really did, but right now she just wanted to get comfortable and warm in her bed. Truth is, she really wanted Natsu to lay beside her - not only for the heat, but for the comfort of human contact as well.

“Wanna check out what I got for you?” It took a brief moment before Lucy understood he meant the grocery bags that almost were forgotten in her hallway.

“Does anything have to go in the fridge or the freezer?”

“No… Why?” He stood up from his squat, cleaning up the small mess he had made rummaging through her cupboards.

“Then… Can we rest for a minute?” Lucy took a square of toilet paper to wipe her tears. “I don’t have any energy to… do stuff right now.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem. Can you walk fine?” Lucy nodded, the toe wasn’t that injured - she had gone through way worse, though those times her body was pumped with adrenaline. Natsu helped her up anyway, held her close to him as they headed to the bedroom. Lucy might not be hurt physically, but she rarely broke down to this extent emotionally, so of course he was still worried.

“Isn’t it kinda cold in here?” He always thought Lucy’s apartment felt colder whenever he hadn’t been there in a while, but wasn’t this way colder than usual?

Lucy didn’t answer. She only had one goal ahead of her, and that was to get into those sheets and get some well deserved rest. Besides, she could tell him all about her day later, they weren’t in a rush. So as soon as she could she crawled up on her soft bedding, and without a moment of hesitation, she dived in under the comforter. She had her back turned towards Natsu, but before shutting her eyes, she turned slightly and lifted the duvet, giving a clear invitation for Natsu to join her. The mattress sunk behind her as he laid down, shuffling closer and embracing his position as the bigger spoon.

“The landlady cut off the heating a few days ago. That’s why it’s cold here,” Lucy explained, her voice cracking meekly. Natsu pulled her closer, making sure his body heat warmed up the bed for her. He properly felt bad for her - clearly the cold and the stubbed toe weren’t the only reasons why she cried, so she probably had a really bad day overall. Whether or not she had been having nightmares or bad memories from her past, or if built up sorrow and anger just let loose, he didn’t know, but he knew that Lucy would tell him when she was ready to. His hand reached over her upper body in search of hers, and as he found it he gave it a supportive squeeze.

“That’s not all though,” she continued after a deep breath, “I also barely got any sleep last night. Totally my own fault, cause I went to sleep really late, but the cold made me unable to sleep in.” She spoke softly and rubbed her thumb across the palm of Natsu’s hand. “And then I went to take a shower, except the warm water had run out.”

“So you took a cold shower? You? Lucy Heartfilia, master of turning up the heat until not even I can stand it?” Chuckles filled his lungs, because he really found it ironic. Understandably annoying and upsetting for Lucy of course, but ironic nevertheless.

“Yes, and you bet I’ll never do that again. It felt worse than getting in the middle of a fight between Gray and Lyon. Look, my fingernails are still purple!” She shoved her free hand up in his face, attempting to display the cold, stale fingertips, but accidentally smashing them against his cheek in the process. After a quick apology, she continued. “As if that wasn’t bad enough though, my dishwasher didn’t start last night, so all my dishes are dirty, which wouldn’t be a huge problem if I didn’t start washing them in that cold water, only to learn that I’m out of oats!”

Remembering her streak of unluckiness made her heart drop slightly again, but surprisingly she had already gotten in a better mood. As she shared her burdens with Natsu, she felt a weight lifted from her chest. She even got in a good enough mood that she could initiate chuckling at her mishaps.

“Hold on a minute,” Natsu intervened, “didn’t I tell you only last week not to delay grocery shopping?” They had already been through a similar scene where Lucy had procrastinated going outside for so long that she started using normal hand soap on her body instead of her usual body wash.

“I knooow,” Lucy grumbled, “but it’s so cold out! You know I don’t have proper clothing for this weather! And I have plenty of food for lunches and dinners, just not for breakfast…” She tried to defend her actions, but she knew Natsu was right. Laziness would always come back to bite her in the back if she didn’t deal with things properly.

“Good thing I know you too well.” Natsu had a smug grin plastered on his face, the type of grin she’d usually want to wipe off with a kick. Overconfident Natsu wasn’t pleasant to hang out with, mostly because he got them into trouble when he acted like that. Today however, he looked like a saint. “I went shopping yesterday and thought you could use some food to stock up on.”

“No, you didn’t.” She turned so she laid on her back, head facing Natsu. She tried to look for any sign that he was pranking her, without any luck. “You bought oats?” He nodded proudly, teeth flashing through his cheeky smile. “Thank you.” She dug her face into his chest, hugging him as tightly as she could.

“But I bet the lack of oats didn’t make your toe explode, so how did you get hurt?” Even though Natsu suspected that he had an understanding of what had happened, he wanted to hear it from her.

“I stubbed it really hard against the leg of the kitchen table when I went to boil some water,” she explained with a muffled voice. There was really nothing more to it, which kind of felt embarrassing now that she had said it out loud. She knew she was blushing, but since Natsu couldn’t see it she didn’t mind.

“I guess I came at the perfect time,” Natsu joked, now taking the liberty to rub Lucy’s arms up and down.

“You really did. Thanks.” She lifted her head to meet his gaze, giving him a thankful smile before going back to hugging him. See, what they were doing right now was weird. As in, actually odd behaviour considering their relationship. Except, despite acting weird, Lucy found great comfort in the warm touches of Natsu’s hands, which still roamed her chilled body. She would never allow this to happen if the circumstances were different, because friendship simply couldn’t cross those lines. It would only end in disappointments when she learned that he didn’t feel the same way. Today though, she just wanted to indulge in their overly close relationship. Just their torsos touching didn’t even feel like enough, so she gathered some courage and moved closer. Playing it off as an attempt to warm her feet, she tangled their legs together. Natsu didn’t have the heart to tell her that her cold feet felt incredibly uncomfortable against his calves, so he decided to persevere. After all, he knew his discomfort was far from what Lucy was experiencing, injured toe and all.

The air under the blanket was finally starting to heat up, making Lucy even more grateful for Natsu’s presence. He must’ve acquired some 6th sense that told him whenever she felt lonely - a Lucy-radar if you want, because he always managed to come to her exactly when she needed him. But no matter if it was thanks to supernatural senses or if it was just pure dumb luck, she was currently content enough in their situation that she had the courage to do things that she normally wouldn’t do. Her fingers took the liberty to trail his muscular arms, slowly following the dips and bumps that made out his figure. Natsu, who couldn’t say he was used to this bolder personality Lucy sometimes showed, got goosebumps from her touch. Nice goosebumps though, the type that leaves a warm feeling in his heart. And with Lucy touching him freely, he took the chance to caress her in return, his hands moving from her upper arms to her back and ribcage, then continuing down the curve where her waist dipped the deepest. Lucy’s breathing got slow and relaxed with every stroke he made, so instead of stopping at the small of her waist, he slowly continued the quiet exploration of her body, moving down to her hips and then her thigh. He suddenly felt a huge craving to grip the soft flesh that hid under her long pyjama pants, so he grabbed her leg and pulled it over his own, also making them move closer in the process.

Lucy, who had moved on from her previous place as well, was giving Natsu’s shoulder a light massage, stroking the stiff musculature. She hid further into the shirt that clothed his chest before she collected some courage to speak.

“Did you know?” She began.

“What?”

“In the Best Friends Rulebook, the first listed rule is that best friends must have clear boundaries when it comes to physical contact.”

“What a dumb rule. Who came up with that?”

“Everyone agrees on it. You wouldn’t want to be cuddling with Gray like this, would you?” A disgusted sound made its way out from Natsu’s lips. No, he definitely wouldn’t want that.

“You know it’s different with you,” he began, trying to defend their actions. He didn’t get further in his explanation though, as Lucy’s fingertips grazed the side of his neck.

“I know. But we can’t do stuff like this if we go by the Best Friends Rulebook. Though… there is a way to make it work.” Natsu waited silently in anticipation of hearing her solution. “We could change the rulebook.”

“Are we still talking about books?” Natsu asked. He knew what metaphors were and how they worked, but dragging them out like this made him lose the thread.

“No,” Lucy answered bluntly. “I’m talking about you and me.” She was incredibly happy he couldn’t see her face right now, because even though she felt like they were on the same page with their feelings for once in their lives, being this open with her emotions made her embarrassed, and frankly, a bit nervous. Any sign of rejection would cut deep, now that she was this vulnerable. But she continued. “Best friends might not be able to act like this, do these things, but… when they’re not only best friends, but also…”

Her heart was beating so fast now, to the point that she wondered if Natsu could even hear what she was saying over the loud heartbeat. She had to continue though, this was the moment of truth. Her hand, that hadn’t stopped moving across his shoulders, arms and upper back, gripped his T-shirt in an attempt to calm herself - or to at least make sure she wouldn’t float away from all the air she was holding in her lungs.

“Also lovers… they can do this.” There. She said it. Knowing she couldn’t change the outcome no matter what at this point, she looked up at Natsu again, determination flowing in her eyes. And Natsu… he looked normal. He didn’t look surprised, sad, confused or angry - just like his normal, easy going self. She would have felt offended when his ribs started shaking in a lighthearted chuckle, except she really couldn’t get upset with him when he looked so thoroughly happy. He took her face in his hands and gave her forehead a soft kiss.

“Then let’s change to that other rulebook,” he said, continuing to kiss her left and then her right cheek, before giving in to what could only be described as cute aggression, showering her face in quick, sloppy pecks. Lucy, who was surprised by this sudden affection, couldn’t stop her bubbling laughter from spilling out of her mouth. She was so relieved that he understood the implication. She had told him that she wanted them to be lovers, and he had accepted. In fits of giggles she tried to bend away from him so she could properly look at him. She failed, at first, due to his constant moving, but after a second try she could pry herself away from his smooching-rifle. Natsu looked so joyful as he looked at her, that she fleetingly wondered how they ever could have gone as only friends for as long as they had. She grabbed his face in the same way he had grabbed hers, and felt an overwhelming amount of love pulse through her veins.

“Natsu Dragneel, I love you. I love you so, so much,” she confessed. She had dreamt about this moment for way too long, and even if it went nothing like she had expected, she felt like the happiest girl on earth. Give it to Natsu to solve the challenge of making Lucy’s days better, no matter what she goes through, because he has always known exactly how to cheer her up, even when he didn’t know it himself.

“I love you more, Lucy.” She could no longer wait, so she smashed their lips together, allowing them to mould into what could only be described as a perfect kiss. Natsu moved his hand away from Lucy’s cheek and into her tangled blonde hair, deepening their connection. This certainly wasn’t what Natsu had expected waking up today, and he had definitely not expected it after seeing her cry like she did, but nevertheless he was happy with the outcome.

Happiness has always been known as a short emotion, sneaking up in pulses, giving people licks of serotonin during the long winters of their emotions. Happiness has that in common with a lot of other emotions - anger comes in upset explosions, sadness waters the grieving fields of memories, only for the rain to cease after short periods of time. Jealousy comes as a storm, ripping up carefully planted and cared for greenery, only to leave the vaguer emotions like confusion to deal with the aftermath. Love, however, enters lives slowly, growing stronger for every kind and selfless act between the pair, staying unnoticed until the deepest feelings of frustration destructs the surroundings. Only then do they truly notice what amazing powers come with love - it heals, evolves and comforts.

In spring love blooms, in summer it sweats, in autumn it plays, and in winter it warms. Lucy and Natsu experience love all of the time - they have felt love for friends, family and even enemies at times, but most importantly, they have felt love for each other. The seasons have tested their resilience, gotten them through many trials and errors, but even the feeling of love comes to a consensus once in a while. Today it came in the act of showing up, tomorrow it might come in the act of keeping a distance. But they continue to love nevertheless.

#bumblebeehug writes #fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #nalu #fairy tail nalu #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #nalu fanfic #nalu fic #nalu fanfiction #fairy tail fanfiction #fairy tail fanfic #fairy tail fic #ft fanfic #ft fanfiction

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