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ghostarii · 2 years ago

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GLASS TABLE GIRL ! ～ BLADE . ❛ i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

˖ ⁺ ⫾  SHOW NOTES fem!reader ❱ guitarist!blade ❱ groping ❱ reader is a groupie ❱ PWP!!! ❱ (reader is intoxicated so technically) dubcon ❱ spanking ❱ degradation ❱ clit n nipple slapping ❱ ig ooc!blade but who cares ❱ choking/asphyxiation ❱ size kink ❱ dacryphilia ❱ outdoor/public sex ❱ exhibitionism ❱ spit ❱ face-fucking ❱ dirty talk ❱ reader has 0 self respect ❱ name calling ❱ overstimulation ❱ creampie & unprotected sex (stay safe) ❱ clit pinching ❱ hair pulling ❱ multiple orgasms ❱ cumplay(?) ❱ no aftercare ❱ minors & dc antis do not interact.

˖ ⁺ ⫾  CREDITS i have not written a fic in so effing long nd i was high writing this so excuse my rustiness :c but i have risen from my grave so let’s rejoice nonetheless ! !blade is on my mind 24/7 n i just want to be used n abused by him omfg turn me OWT! i listened to one of the girls by the weeknd literally the entire time i wrote this sooo feel free to listen while reading ^_^ i was js writing as i went so ts is very pwp sorryyy . . i’m gonna try to be more active on here i js need time to write so in the meantime pls show that my works would be appreciated here =( likes & reblogs are so GREATLY APPRECIATED ! ! ! if u don’t like, pls scroll cs comm guidelines r so mean to creators T_T

˖ ⁺ ⫾  RUN TIME 7.5k+ words . (of pure filth)

IF SOMEBODY ASKED you who your favorite artist was, you would say Ren—known by his moniker: BLADE. There was nothing you didn't like about this man; everything about him fundamentally and ultimately was the object of a girlish obsession. You knew all of his songs front to back, followed his social media on every single platform, and never missed a single piece of media uploaded about him. Your life was built around his style: dark and mysterious and enigmatic. He was your number one, unmatched and unchanged.

He was a hard man to come by. He frequently held small shows, with no more than twenty-thousand people on the high end. It was impossible to go, and every time you tried, your chance miserably passed you up. But this time, June twenty-third, twenty-twenty-three, you were right there, in the middle of the pit, only mere feet away from Blade. It was your first time seeing him in person by the grace of your best friend who surprisingly snagged tickets, and you’d never been more grateful in your life.

Blade was ethereal. The concert videos you’d seen over the years did not compare to the image in front of your face. It was dark, the main lights being spotlights shone on his pearly, perspiring, black, skin-tight silk-clothed skin, and dim red LED lights on the set behind him. His fingers ran effortlessly across his guitar, an inexplicably attractive riff and tone singing from the instrument. You felt like you were in Heaven, your eyes never leaving the show before your eyes. It was hot and uncomfortable in the pit but it was worth it. So worth it because he looked at you: taking you in with an unfaltering stare. His lip slipped between his teeth, and he shook his head, throwing stray locks to the back, and God, you felt as though you needed to be bolted to the ground with the way you wanted to jump on the stage. He walks up to the microphone, the most gut-wrenchingly hot vocals sliding off of his tongue. His eyes were closed, smudged eyeliner emphasizing his fluttering, long lashes, and his lips were spit-slicked, parting and pursing with each sultry lyric leaving. They were plump and rosy as if they were asking to be kissed—it was a sight to behold.

You sang your heart out, dragging your hand from waving in the air down a curvy path on your body, going from your shoulder to your chest to below where Blade’s sight would reach. You turned to your friend and recited the lyrics with a big smile and following giggle, all to turn your attention back to the stage and lock eyes with him. Your thighs clamped together just at the narrowed and burning gaze he delivered. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted a man more than you do right now.

Your friend found a way closer to the stage and you wedged your way between the crowd, finding yourself so close that the speakers were banging on your eardrums. You could feel the music in your bones, and all you could think of to describe it was hot and heavy. Maybe it was all of the pregaming you and your friend did before the concert, or the condensed heat and gyrating bodies, but you were so hot. You wipe your sweaty skin as you sway to the beginning of the next song, taking out your phone to begin recording.

Blade leans into the mic, muttering lowly, “I want you all to sing.” He pulls the microphone out of the stand, letting his guitar hang off of his shoulder from the strap. And that’s when he makes his way to where you stand, muttering small “yeah”’s and “good job”’s into the mic as the crowd collectively sings. He kneels right before you, “Sing.” he says into the mic.

You go wide-eyed—cute, he thinks—but you start singing. You grab an open portion of the microphone, leaning in as close as possible and reciting the lyrics of the song just as you were told. All eyes and cameras were on you, and that included Blade, who held an intense gaze on you the entire verse. When you finish the crowd erupts in cheers and screams, and he pulls away, finishing the song. You turned to your friend and screamed about your main character moment, dancing and singing even happier into her recording phone. This was the best night of your life.

For the rest of the concert, you had the time of your life. Blade ends the show with a final guitar solo, the entire audience silent as he wrecks the strings and pours his heart into his vocals. He briefly spoke to his fans, thanking everyone for coming out and heading backstage as everyone began to clear out. And all he could think about was that girl who his eyes couldn't help but wander toward, and to whom his thoughts dedicated his innuendos. He remembers the sign you held at the beginning of the show: “BLADE ♡WNS M(Y)E (HEART) ♡”. Your eyes honed filth that your natural disposition didn’t and he longed for it. He held bated breath as he informed his security about you, requesting you be located and brought to him and they replied with “We’ll try our best, sir.”

It was an after-concert tradition for Blade to hit up a local club, especially in situations like this where it was his last stop. He hoped he’d find you there, but he knew you would, especially if you were as big of a fan as you looked.

“Yukong, just thirty minutes! Please!!” you pleaded, trying to pull your friend into your opinion. She shook her head no, “I can’t! I have to go home! I’m so tired and you know…” you stop your friend there, not wanting to hear about her boyfriend.

“Fine. I’m still going though, text me when you get home.” you didn’t want Yukong to go home. But arguing was pointless, and only time was being put to the test, not her stubbornness. You knew from your years as a Blade fan that he always went to the club after a concert to meet fans, and some rumors even suggested ulterior motives, so you wanted to go. Yukong frowned at your flat expression but still hugged you, waving at you as she got in her car to go home. You’d be flying solo, but you had faith in yourself.

So you make your way over to the nearest club via taxi, praying that this is the one that Blade would visit. You weren’t all too familiar with the place, its name, Starskiff Haven, only being one you’ve heard in passing. Regardless, your thoughts were assured by the abundance of fighting and pushing bodies to get in the door—and when your phone lit up, a Twitter notification from a Blade Updates page noting his location, Starskiff Haven, you smiled widely, making your way to the line.

It was way too long and you weren’t interested in waiting all night—you had to meet Blade. A time like this is when Yukong comes into hand with her very stern persuasion, something that’s near impossible to deny. But she left, and you’d have to figure out a way in. And a thought immediately came to mind.

You walked to the front of the line, breathing in deeply and psyching yourself up for how incredibly you were about to embarrass yourself. When you exhale, you book it, beelining straight into the club, right past security. You immediately shift your demeanor, blending into the crowd seamlessly as security guards rush in, looking around for you. Hiding behind the most cluelessly drunk girl, you make your way to the bar, immediately ordering a sidecar. It packed a punch and the combination of how many shots you had earlier, it’d be just enough to get you through whatever you were about to do.

You turn around in the swivel stool, taking in the atmosphere and coasting the area for any sighting of Blade. The club was darker than the concert but heavily illuminated with hazy, colorful LEDS and much, much louder, filled to the brim with chatter and deafening bass-boosted music. Your drink was brought to you moments later, and with a big sip, you raked your eyes over the club once again. You could see bodies grinding on the main floor, the DJ bopping his head as his hands moved diligently across his DJ controller, couples making out and slipping into cornered areas, and friend groups recording and taking pictures. It was a lively environment, sure, and from the strength that beat on your tongue, established by incredibly skilled bartenders—but you weren’t looking for a new clubbing spot, you were looking for Blade.

And Blade was looking for you. Swimming through the unforgivingly hot crowd for you. He wasn’t itching to have you, he was itching to take you. Every time he closed his eyes he was brought back to his time on stage and how you danced in the audience. How your lips pushed out his lyrics and how your hands couldn’t stop waving in the air and running on your skin. How you swiped off sweat from your forehead and fanned yourself with your sign. And how you couldn’t keep your star-filled eyes off of him. Every light reflection off of your eyes showed desperation and neediness. You were begging to be picked without ever uttering a word, and he was not one to ignore indulgence. You needed him and he wanted you—so where are you?

Perched on that blue-velvet cushioned swivel stool. Sipping whatever remaining contents of your sidecar. And when he saw you, you saw him. You locked eyes and each plastered ill-intended smirks across your faces. And while you had his attention, you brought the glass to your lips, smacking them open and running your tongue along the sugar rim, collecting the sweetness on your tongue. You sucked on your tongue, rolling your eyes and he swears the “Ahh” leaving your lips is audible from his distance. He stayed still even as you slapped down your money on the counter, hopping down and disappearing into the crowd.

You make your way to him quickly, holding onto your rapidly rising chest and laughing at yourself. You were on a roll of unbelievable behavior, but it seemed to be a clean stroke because you were yet to meet a roadblock. And in a very blurry couple of minutes, the goal you’d been working toward was in the palm of your hand—literally.

You danced your way to Blade when you were finally close to him, sliding up against his body sweetly. He was tall and so sturdy against you, but he was smooth like butter as he synced to your movements and danced behind you. His hands were on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he pushed up against you. Your exchange was wordless but it spoke volumes. It felt like a dream, entirely too good to be true but you indulged anyway, grinding against him. A gasp escapes your mouth as his left hand unabashedly grapes your tit, squeezing roughly and experimentally. His other hand trails dangerously on the band of your shorts and you let your head fall back on his shoulder, “I'm your biggest fan…”

He laughs at your declaration, leaning to press his lips feather-lightly at the shell of your ear, “Are you now?” you nod immediately, pressing into him. “‘Blade owns me’.” he mocks your sign, and laughs when he feels you slightly tense under his touch.

“I picked you,” and again, he leans down to your ear, “Are you happy, slut?” The word is so mean but it sounds so good from him. You nearly moan, nodding eagerly, as if complying with his word came with a medal. You were a slut, so willing to give it up as soon as he laid eyes on you. And you weren’t afraid to go low to get his attention, doing just about anything to be his for the night.

Fangirls like you are nothing new to Blade and as a man who looks like he does, it comes with the territory. He can read you like a damn book, cover to cover with ease because despite how enigmatic and indifferent to the norm you may try to appear, you wear your whole being on your sleeve. You do everything in your power to be somebody you're not. Your life revolves around who you think you should be and not who you are. A lot of girls are born with “it”: an innate ability to be the one wanted and desired, but you? Your “it” is manufactured, the blueprint drawn out by girls who are it. You're stuck in a limbo created by your age: too old to not be settling down, but too young to not live your life, and you try to make a box for yourself, being the exception to a path laid out for you. You're lost in the life you lead, and with the way you're dancing so shamelessly and needily on him, Blade knows you. You’re the type of girl who sees getting used as a flex, and despite signing an NDA or promising to never say anything, you’ll tell this person and that person that you got to sleep with the Blade; that the Blade picked you. Women like you are a cancer in the industry. Pests that are incessant and damn near impossible to get rid of. He knows you won't be any different than those before you, but there’s a desire to take you that he cannot ignore.

It’s his natural instinct as a man—or he’s just a shitty person. Perhaps a combination of both, because all he can think about is putting you to use. You’re making it so easy, moaning into the air under the thick remixed song the DJ is spinning, grinding against him, and holding his hand on your tit—you want him, and you’re giving yourself to him on a silver platter. You have a clear lack of respect for yourself, but luckily for you, that’s Blade’s type in women.

The atmosphere seems to be getting heavier, and it feels like time is getting slow and choppy. Now your arms are around Blade’s neck and his large hands are holding onto your ass, and you’re so close, you can feel your chests brushing with each breath you take. The world around you is nothing but background. It doesn’t exist to you, it doesn't matter to you. Not when you have Blade, the literal man of your dreams, right in your palm, and all he's looking at is you.

You feel so special. So wanted and so desired. You feel all eyes on you like you're the main attraction and everybody can’t help but watch and weep, wishing to be you. Your ego is skyrocketed and every embarrassing thing you’ve done tonight doesn't matter to you anymore because it paid off. Your eyes locked and the space between you closed. Your heart synced with the booming beat of the current song playing. You lean in, pressing your hands at the back of his neck and pulling him in. And you kiss him. You kiss Blade.

Blade kisses you back. He tightens the grip on your ass and you moan into his mouth, letting him infiltrate your mouth. He sucks on your tongue, smiling against you when he feels you push up on your tippy toes and hears you whimper into his mouth. He kisses you back. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, pecking your lips once more before moving to your cheek, then to your jaw, then to your neck. His hands are groping at you, roughly grabbing your ass, then your waist, then your breasts. “Are you wet?”

He says it so only you can hear it. You nod. “How wet?” He moves back up to your jaw, placing another kiss. You flutter your lashes, meeting his gaze, “So wet. All for you.”

At your response, he groans, pulling off of you. He chuckles when you pout at him. You’re just what he needs for this night. He grabs your chin, holding your face and leaning down, your lips brushing against his own. “I'm going to go smoke.” and he tells you this for a reason.

You watch with the biggest smile on your face as he sifts through the crowd, heading out of a side door. It was now or never.

Quickly, you rush to the bathroom to freshen up. You fix your hair, digging into your pocket and fishing out your lipgloss, reapplying, and you fan yourself, cooling down to not look a flustered mess. And just as quick as you ran in, you ran out toward the side door, immediately looking both ways for Blade. You smell smoke distantly and turn right, and a few paces down he stood, leaning against the brick wall of the neighboring restaurant. He's next to stacks of old wood and crates and you smile, thinking about whatever was about to go down between you.

You step in front of him and he smiles, taking you in once again. He blows his smoke in your face, tapping the ash off the cigarette before smashing the butt into the wall behind him. “Hi,” you say. He says nothing back, just slides his hand to the back of your neck and pulls you in. The kiss you share this time is messy and he now asserts control, nipping your bottom lip when he feels you go weak and pulls back.

He rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand for him. This is the first time all night he’s seen you properly, in moderately okay lighting. Your jean mini-skirt is tight to you, accentuating the curve and fullness of your ass, and teases what’s beneath with your plump thighs poking out and how it rides up slightly. Your skin-tight baby tank is seemingly one with your figure, bringing out the best in you and making him smile with the “I ♡ BLADE” print across your chest. Your thigh-high boots did nothing when you were near him—he was looming and caging. He was intimidating and arousing, and with the lustful gaze you shared, the climax of your day was steadily approaching.

“Take it off.” He looks down at your chest and you get the memo; immediately grabbing the hem of your tank top and pulling it over your head. “Slow. Take your time…” And you listen, letting your body swivel as you remove the shirt. You unhook the clasp of your bra, and before your boobs could spill out of the confines, he grabs you and wedged you between him and the wall he previously leaned on.

The front of your body is slapped on the cold brick, but you’re swallowed in warmth as he presses against you, grinding his hard-on against your ass. One hand grabs your wrists, and the other turns you around. You look at him innocently, shivering at the breeze that blows down the alley. You can smell him: woody, smokey, and expensive. Yet here he was, pressing you up against a brick wall in a random alley. “You’re such an easy slut, y’know.”

“Bet you been thinking about this; daydreaming about your favorite artist pinning you and trashing you like the fucking whore you are.” he presses against your front, nipping at your jaw. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

You whimper, “Fuck me. Take me. Make me yours.”

“Tell me.” He growls - your answer not sufficing. “Want you to break me,”

“Always fantasized…wanting you to shove your dick down my throat and use it mindlessly and mercilessly.” He begins to kiss down your throat again, licking the tender skin. He smirks when you stop talking, your breath hitching and your head craning backward to open the expanse of your neck. He starts biting on your newfound sweet spot when you begin again, “Spit in my mouth and force me to swallow it with your cum,”

He gets to your chest, immediately taking a nipple between his teeth. He listens to you wince and whine as he does, pushing your chest into his face. “And make me beg you to fuck me. Teasing me…fuck—pinching me, pulling my hair until I'm teary-eyed and begging…”

“...And then you fuck me like you hate me; choking me, slapping me, degrading me all while I thank you stupidly.”

“You’re just fucking disgusting,” he mumbles around your nipple. He lets your hands go, palming your free tit immediately. His eyes are narrow as you whine when he twinges the bud roughly. “Put so much thought into this…you’re a weirdo slut.”

You shake your head, breathing out heavily to refute his claim, “Nuh-uh—your biggest fan.” you correct.

He laughs at you. You’re much more fun than he thought, and a lot less shameless, too. You're throwing all of your big cards out; this is your go-big or go-home moment, and while you have him here, you’ll bare yourself wholly because if not now, then not ever. Blade has to commend your patience though. You're letting him toy around, graze around your unknown territory and feel you out. You’re needy but obedient. Tired of waiting but understanding. Absolutely fucking shameful and proud, but eager to be good—so maybe he was wrong about you. You do have an “it”: an innate ability to be the perfect fucktoy.

When he lets you go, he immediately instructs you to get on your knees. And you listen immediately. The cold gravel digs into your bare knees and it's incredibly uncomfortable, yet you don’t utter a word. Your nipples are hard and pebbled and are probably so sensitive, yet you say nothing. You only sit before him, fingers dancing on the exposed thigh as you look up at him, waiting to be put to use.

So he slaps you. As you told him to—he slaps you, and his hand is heavy coming against your skin. It sounds off for what felt like possibly hundreds of miles, and your face doesn’t sting, but it hurts. The skin is heating up from the impact and your head turns to the side, hair falling against your face, yet you don’t utter a word. He grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him and dangerously smiling when your teary eyes look up at him wide and thankfully. “Pull my cock out,” he instructs, letting you go and standing up straight.

You get to work on his belt, undoing it swiftly, and then you unbutton his pants. You tease yourself: slowly pulling the zipper down, and when pulling his pants down to his ankles, you palm him softly, gently patting his throbbing cock and staring at the growing wet spot in his underwear. You kiss the wet spot, and then you kiss it again, and again until you suck lightly on it while making eye contact with him. You moan at the very faint taste, fluttering your eyes shut, and finally sliding your hand under the band of his underwear, holding his dick.

Blade hisses at your touch, bucking slightly into your hold at the initial contact. Usually, he’d curse you out at this point for going so slow, but he’s letting it slide this time; allowing you to take control and show him how worth it and nasty you really are.

He’s big. He’s thick—your hand can just barely wrap around the entire shaft, and as you lift him to unsheath him from his boxers, you feel how heavy he is. And hard. So fucking hard.

You gawk at his cock like a kid in a candy store, staring at his leaking slit intensely—almost as if you're waiting. “Go ahead; show me how big of a fan you are.”

You kiss his tip, the bead of precum smearing on your lips. Smacking your lips apart suggestively, you wrap your right hand around the base, applying tightness and pressure as you find the right grip, and when you do, you finally lick a clean stripe across the head. Your tongue sweeps up the new milky droplet spilling out, and you contently hum at the taste, making him groan in response. You lick from the angry tip all the way to his trimmed base, then back up again until you’ve teased every side of him and located his sensitive vein.

If anybody would have told you that all you dreamed about would be coming to fruition—all by mere luck and chance—you wouldn’t believe it. And you still don't; even as you spit a thick bead of your saliva on his cock and then massage it in with your tongue, swirling all around the sensitive head. But it’s real because he moans out for you as you finally take him in, the throb getting heavier as he sits on your tongue and your lips hug him tight.

You begin your ministrations: toying with his balls lightly as you bob up and down, going as far as you could. You tried your best to take him all in. You stretched your mouth wide around him until it felt like your mouth was going to rip at the corners and until it felt like all you could do was sputter and leak drool around him. Tears brimmed in your eyes and each time you blinked them back, keeping a pretty smile on your face every time you came up for air. Your lipgloss was mixed in with spit, and clear tear streaks had already begun to run their course with your base makeup, but you didn't stop. You were moaning incessantly, suffocating his dick in your intense vibrations that had him moaning and grunting.

When you come up from your nth deepthroat attempt, it's not for air, but to breathlessly huff out “Fuck my face…please,” And since you asked so nicely…

“Blink twice if it gets to be too much.” You open your mouth as wide as you could, sticking your tongue out. He pulls your hair back for you, yanking your head back and spitting on your tongue. His eyes tell you not to move, so you don’t, keeping eye contact with him as he wraps his other hand around your own, guiding your smaller hands up and down his shaft. He shudders, “F-fuck…’m so fuckin’ hard…”

And then he slides onto your tongue, not wasting any time before bottoming out in your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise, and your unprepared gags speak volumes to your shock. But that doesn't deter you from wrapping your lips around him. And from there, he pulls out, pulling your head back and then pushing you back down as he thrusts his hips forward. He curses under his breath before picking up his pace, thrusting so hard that his grip tightens on your hair to hold you properly in place, fucking roughly into your face. You can only choke and sputter, having already taken your hands from around his dick and digging crescent nail shapes into his thighs. The sounds eliciting from the two of you are so nasty and filthy. His balls slap at your chin, your voice rings out from around his girth, and his moans echo around the world. You can’t take it but you’re doing a great job of trying. He slaps your face again, pulling out and hitting his tip on your tongue. “Keep your fucking eyes on me,”

“If you can do that, I'll cum all down your throat and all over your pretty fucking face, okay?” You nod eagerly, and as an incredibly degrading action of praise and acceptance, he slaps his spit-slicked dick against your cheek a few times. “Good girl.” Butterflies swarm in your stomach at his praise.

When Blade slides in, he smacks against your face. He goes to the very hilt, pushing his way to the depths of your throat roughly. Your nose is pressed up against his pelvis, and your cheeks are catching stray tears. But this is consistent as he begins thrusting, using you per your request. He grunts out each time his tip hits the back of your throat, thrusting so roughly and meanly into you. Again, you feel like all you can do is choke and gag, spilling slobber and precum mix back down his length. It’s fucking filthy and the loud squelching and impact noises hit your ears nastily, yet you can’t help but squirm and attempt to grind for friction to subdue the need throbbing in your clit.

Above you, the man is falling apart. His hips stutter every now and then and his voice is fucking endless. His long hair sticks to his sweaty forehead and sides of his neck, and it looks damn near intentionally placed from how beautiful he looks. The outdoor lights are like distant illuminators; glowing behind him softly—almost angelically. His eyebrows are knitted together and he struggles to keep his eyes every time he reaches the back of your throat and you start gagging. It’s beyond pleasurable. Blade isn't sure if it’s because of all the tension the two of you have built up, or if it's because he hasn't had any action in the last 3 weeks because of his neverending schedule, or if it’s because your mouth is fucking amazing, but he can't keep himself together. His chest starts heaving faster as he comes close to his high, his knees beginning to buckle, and his stomach caving.

You flick your tongue on the underside of his cock as much as you can and glue your eyes to his, seeing his release breaking him down inch by inch. “Fuck! I'm gonna fucking cum!” He announces, throwing his head back.

He stills in your mouth and you take the opportunity to suck harshly on his tip, swirling your tongue around it like it’s the sweetest lolly you’ve ever tasted. He pulls out of your mouth, and you vigorously stroke his cock, so focused and determined to milk him dry. He leans forward, slapping his palm against the wall behind you for stability as he cums. He moans so prettily as he paints your face, the warm ropes making you hum contently. You give him no break, sucking his tip one last time to make sure you get the most out of what he’s given you.

Blade catches his breath, standing up straight soon after and condescendingly cooing at the mess made on your face. He picks up a glob as he sweeps his thumb over your cheek, sliding the digit in your mouth. He presses on your tongue, finding pleasure in how you swallow your sounds under a layer of gagging, but how you never tear your eyes off of him. He does this until you’ve cleaned off your face—but he's not done with you.

You're finally allowed off of your aching knees. You're sure the gravel will leave an indent from how long you were down there. He pinches your pebbled nipples, smirking as you yelp. “What was it that was next? Making you beg..making you earn my cock in you?” you nod rapidly, backing into the wall for stability as he toys with your very sensitive tits. “Show me how you beg then.”

You put your hands on his shoulders to help you stand up, feeling so weak all of a sudden. Your voice cracks as you try to speak, meek little whimpers flowing out as he works your body expertly—like he knows what gets you going. “Please…fuck–Please fuck me, I need you so bad…!”

A shrill yelp is chased out of your throat when his palm cracks against one of your boobs, “Is that all you got? Try again.”

So you do. “Need you to fuck me, Blade. I wanna be used by you, broken–please, I'll do anything!”

“Not good enough. Again.”

“Please fuck me like the slut I am! I need to be full of you, need to have you fuck me ragged and dumb so all I think of is you!” you pitch up your voice, breathing it all out in one breath.

Pitiful. Another smack. “Again.”

“I'm so needy for you, please! It hurts–I need you so much, it hurts! Please…”

And he's heard enough. His right hand slides up to your neck, forcing you against the wall. His grip is tight, fingers pressing into the sides and you have to fight for your eyes to not roll to the back of your head. “You must not want me as bad as you acted like you did…”

“I do! I do!” You interject, but your voice is weak and small—nothing in comparison to his deep and lust-saturated tone. “Then act like you do. Beg.”

He runs his other hand up your thigh, cupping your cunt. Your panties are soaked, and he can feel the heat radiating off of you. He pushes the fabric to the side, running two fingers through your folds and you swear you almost fell out then and there. You'd gone teased and untouched all night—you were beyond ready.

“Pussy is fucking soaked…” he mumbles, letting his index and middle finger twirl through your folds, getting closer and closer to your clit. “You want me here? To fuck your sloppy pussy until you're cumming your brains out?”

Your eyes start to roll and he can feel the pulse intensify in your cunt. That's exactly what you wanted. “Say it. Say ‘I want my sloppy pussy fucked until I'm cumming my brains out, Blade’. Say it,”

You part your lips, and he slightly loosens the grip on your throat, “Wan–want…I want my sloppy pussy…” You get shy with your words, and he delivers a slap to your clit. The stimulation has you buckling over. You feel like his hands on you are going to be the death of you. “Say it.”

With the courage finally built up, “I want my sloppy pussy fucked until I'm cumming my brains out, Blade! Please, I need it s’bad…feel like I'm gonna fucking die!” leaves your lips easily like spreading butter on toast. His lips that you never got enough of tasting quirk up into his signature smirk. He lets you go, pushing you against the wooden crates and flipping up your jean skirt.

“There you go; atta-fucking-girl.” he practically rips your panties off of you, slapping your pussy just for the hell of it. He cringes at the sound it makes and laughs cruelly at your whimpering. He presses up against you, his semi-hard dick pressed against your ass, and he wraps his arm around you and shows you the coat of your arousal that paints his fingers. “Spit.”

With your spit and abundance of slick collected on his fingers, Blade strokes his cock, going until he’s near painfully hard. The sounds he elicits make your pussy clench around nothing, needing to be satiated so desperately. “Are you ready? There’s no going back.”

This is somehow the sweetest moment for you. Your heart swells and you can only sheepishly nod, wiggling your hips eagerly. “Never been more sure about anything in my life. Ruin me.”

Ask once more, and you shall receive once more. His cock is swiped through your folds and collects a considerable amount of your arousal. He lines up at your entrance, watching you brace yourself with a smile ingrained into his face. He pushes in with a sharp inhale, biting his tongue at the feel of your tightness. Your pussy sucks him right in and—fuck. Warm and soft and tight, he could cum right now.

Your face crinkles up and you grip tightly onto the wooden crates in front of you. You’ve dreamt of this for so long—touched yourself at night to the thought and it's finally happening. He's inside of you, stretching you out, sinking in and in and in, inch by inch until he buries himself deep in your guts, until his tight and heavy balls are touching your folds. You're so sensitive you feel like you're ready to cream already, and you need it, need him, and need more. You grind your hips back on him, exhaling thickly as you rest your head against your forearm. “So fucking ready for me…”

His hand cracks down on your ass. It hurts so well and you wince, arching your back further. He sighs, kneading your skin softly. Then he pulls out, inching out until only the tip sits idly in you. You turn around to look at him, and doing that ignites his fire.

Your face is pathetic and fucked out already. Eyebrows knitted together and your eyes heavy, hardly staying open. Your lips are parted yet folded into a small frown, and perspiration rests at your hairline. You egg him on to slam into you, and he watches your frown drop into a wide ‘o’ shape, your eyes fluttering. So he does it again. And your lip now slips between your teeth. And again. And you drop your head back onto your arms.

And so Blade keeps up this pace, gradually going faster as the pit in his stomach urges him to do so. Your sounds are now uncontrollable—they fly out of you like a skipping record, incoherent babbles, and sinful moans. Each collision of your bodies elicits a visceral, wet slap that echoes off the walls of the alleyway. People around the world could probably hear what you're doing, and you're not sure if that bothers you…if the thought of a curious passerby walking down this alley naïvely would be an issue. If anything, it makes you get louder, your throat not getting to rest.

He hits you again, groaning when your pussy clenches around him. “You’re so fucking loud– you want somebody to find us?” Yes, that is what you want to say. But you moan out louder, shaking your head no. He hits you again. “Don’t lie to me,”

“You’re a fucking painslut,” he spits at you. He wraps his arm to reach your clit, immediately finding the bud and pinching it. Your knees go weak and he stabilizes you against him by pushing you further into the crates in front of you. You sniffle and whimper, presumably spilling tears down your filthy fucking face but doing nothing but asking for more. You've gotten so wet, dripping everywhere messily and Blade only cringes his face up with each wet collision. You're so nasty, so filthy, letting a stranger who you parasocial bonded yourself to defile you in public. He's feeding into your crazed delusions, but he’d honestly rather be doing nothing else. When he pinches your clit again your body shakes. Your knees buckle again and from the waist up you're basically limp. He feels you tighten around him and he sucks his teeth, parting your ass to peer at the milky ring forming around the base of his cock. “Did you just fucking cum?” Yes, you did. And you felt like Heaven doing it.

“You came ‘cause I pinched your clit…” he does it again and you jolt up, whining for him to stop. “So if I slap it…” he slaps it, eyeing you for your reaction. “Or rub on it like I love you…” his fingers run circles on your bud, feeling you get impossibly tighter around him. “So fucking easy.”

He resumes his thrusts like he never stopped—slamming into you unapologetically and now additionally, rubbing on your cute, abused clit. He's not going to last long at this rate. Your pussy gushes around him like a running river and the noises have gotten even nastier. Squelching and the occasional puffs of air escaping…you’re a mess.

“Love this fucking cunt,” he praises while pinching your clit. His free hand that rested on the small of your back is now holding onto your neck, forcing you to stand upright against him. Blade is lean but muscular. His arms flex and you feel his abs every time your bodies get close enough. His strong thighs touch yours and it's like you feel his entire body weight every time he pushes into you. “So good, ‘s so fucking good, Blade!”

The man laughs at your outburst. He angles his hips differently, trying so hard to find your sweet spot to get you creaming again. “Yeah?” he asks, tightening his grip on your throat. “Mhm-!” you concur.

“Where?” He’s sure he's found it, and he drives his hips up, groaning happily once he feels your gummy walls contract around him. “Here?”

Your head nods rapidly. “Yes, yes, yes–fuck! Right there, oh my fucking God!”

Neither of you are going to last. Blade’s balls are so tight and the way your pussy hugs him is even tighter. You suck him in like you never want him to leave, but your over-stimulated squeals and shaking thighs suggest otherwise. He’s found your sweet spot and is recklessly abusing it, going all or nothing. The way he toyed with your clit like a kitten pawing at a toy was too much—it started to hurt, to throb endlessly as your stomach knotted and your hole drooled. His grip on your neck was the icing on the cake. You felt like you could no longer breathe — like his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you and him choking you was keeping it out. Every little thing he did pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

He was even more merciless than before. Blade fucked into you harder, rougher, and faster than before, and you chalked that up to his orgasm catching up to him. You listen to his songs on repeat all the time but never have you heard him sing more beautifully than now as he digs your pussy out. You were really blessed with this night, and now it is coming to a very eventful end.

“‘M gonna fucking cum–!” You announce, and Blade nods his head in agreement. He slaps your cunt one last time, his fingers covered in your juices now tweaking at one of your nipples. “Me…me too, fuck.”

He leans into your ear, “Make me cum in this fucking pussy,” a throaty moan breaks his sentence, and you moan back, feeling it coming. “So close, so close…!”

It's this contraction that has Blade falling apart. He thrusts into you one last time, his eyes shooting wide open as he cums deep in you. He moans gutturally and shakily, feeling you clench tighter as you orgasm as well. His hips stutter in you and your hips ride back onto him as you both come down from your highs. The alley is now deafeningly silent and you flush in embarrassment from how loud you must have been. He lets your neck and tit go, using one hand to now spread your ass and pull out his cock. Your pussy is puffy and shiny, and when he’s out, he watches with a burning gaze as your mixture of cum starts to slightly spill out.

He groans, slapping your ass one last time. You two finally separate, and you turn around to look at him. You're sure he doesn't look as fucked up as you do, but even so disheveled and fucked out and sweaty as he is, you can’t help but feel your heart flutter. He pulls up his boxers and pants, fixing his shirt before he looks over at your mostly naked frame. He comes over to you, pulling down your skirt, and his doing this makes you feel less like a one-night stand, and more like one of his girls.

Being so close to you, he breathes you in. You smell like sex, but beneath that is a layer of whatever fruity perfume you sprayed on you, and it's delectable; so he kisses you. It's something he doesn't usually do, and he wouldn't have done it for you, but you entrance him. Perhaps it's because you're what he likes— he's met his match.

But you kiss each other passionately like you were trying to reignite the flame you just spent God knows how long fucking out. Your tongues are well acquainted with one another, swirling and bumping and riding past one another knowingly. He pulls away from you, looking in your eyes as he lets spit fall onto your tongue once again. You smile happily as you swallow it—God, you could do this forever. “Come back with me,”

You didn't expect him to say that. You blink your eyes a few times in disbelief. This night can't be any more unreal. He notices your confusion and smiles, “Is that a no–”

“–No! I'll come with you!” you don't know where he’s taking you, or what it means to go with him. You do know that you’ll have a lot to tell Yukong, NDA or not, and that you’ll never forget this day.

Smiling again, this time devilishly, Blade pulls away from you, pinching your cheek. “Good girl.”

#honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai x reader #blade honkai #honkai smut #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr smut #hsr blade #blade smut #blade x reader #blade x you #blade x reader smut #minors & ageless blogs do not interact.#hsr blade smut #hsr ren

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aprilcolours · 8 months ago

Text

blackheart- part four

part one - part two - part three

A/N: warning: there is smut in this chapter!! A lot!! be warned!! s*x ahoy!! p*nsises and whatnot!! I’ve also started doing valyrian translations underneath the line bc there is a lot, and i'm taking liberties w black aly being witchy bc i wanna and its Cool

—

The night was young as they set out across the marshes, their horses galloping through mud and muck.

Benjicot led the way on a black mare, their dark hair almost disappearing into the night. Just behind him rode Visenya, on a white-gray stallion. He had laughed when she picked it.

She had changed into her favorite dress: a deep red gown with a scooping neckline, beaded and encrusted in rubies. It was odd to see her finery against the wild landscape.

They rode North to his keep, their purpose known only to them. Vermithor remained behind, so none were the wiser as they secreted away.

Raventree Hall was certainly not the largest castle she had ever seen, nowhere near as imposing as her home on Dragonstone. It had, however, a quiet grandeur, a dignity that spoke to ages long past and kings long dead.

Entering into the central palisade, despite the late hour, servants immediately began rushing about, lighting braziers, making preparations for the liege-lord’s arrival.

“Maester Daris!” Benjicot called up into the hall.

“So the rumors are true,” a woman’s voice rang out. In a doorway stood a tall thin woman with long dark curling waves of hair. She had a strange look about her, a bird-like turn to her features.

The archer, Visenya thought, a witch they say. Black Aly, she is called.

“The rumors of the Riverland’s witches?” Visenya replied, hair loose about her, but face impassive. The woman laughed with a nod, and bowed. Benjicot interceded to introduce,

“My aunt, Alysanne Blackwood. And this is—”

“A princess who needs no introduction from you,” the strange woman interrupted, stepping into the foyer. “Go find the maester then,” she said, touching her nephew’s arm in reassurance. Benjicot glanced once between the women, before stepping up the stairs to wake the maester.

“An honor, your highness,” Aly began, a cautious tilt to her words. “Would I be remiss in congratulating the joining of our houses?”

“You would not, Lady Alysanne,” Visenya responded, her tone polite and unbothered. It was clear the other woman was sizing her up, assessing her, so she did not squirm.

“The ceremony is to be held here? Now?”

“It is,” she replied simply, daring the elder to question her.

“You will honor our ways then I presume,” Black Aly stated, with a jut of her defiant chin. “A dragon’s maidenhead is a mighty sacrifice to the Old Ones, and I’m sure we will want all the divine favor we can manage for the war ahead.”

The Riverlander witch spoke quietly, so their words were only theirs, but Visenya did not mistake the steel in her voice.

My mother will rule these people, whoever their gods. And so she inclined her head in acquiesce.

The ceremony was small, in the yard outdoors beneath the giant dead Weirwood tree: the maester to speak the words, Alysanne to provide a relative’s blessing, and them.

He passed his family cloak over her shoulders, clasping it at her collarbone. The weight was comforting.

When the Riverlanders finished their ritual however, Visenya asked for a cup of wine and a dagger.

She raised the dagger to her lower lip and cut it, as she had seen her mother once do. She took a pull from the goblet of wine and then passed them both to Ben. He wore a slight smile as he mimicked her, slicing his own lower lip and drinking. The Valyrian ceremony was sealed with a kiss.

Black Aly and the Maester wore twin bewildered expressions, but they witnessed the second ceremony all the same. Then they took their leave, walking back up the cobblestone path to the castle proper.

And they were suddenly, blisteringly, alone.

Visenya’s eyes were wide in nerves, and something else stirring low and tumultuous in her gut, pupils blown open. She had always been able to maintain some small shred of composure around the subject of Bloody Benjicot Blackwood, but here and now she was stripped bare of all of it. She knew what came next and it frightened and excited her in equal measure. Here she could not be the princess, the commander, the dragon rider.

Here, in this torchlight, beneath the grasping unknowable branches of the dead Weirwood, she was just a girl.

She bit her lip nervously, and more blood from the slice beaded through. Benjicot lifted a hand to her face, thumb drawing across her full lower lip and smearing the blood across her chin.

“What troubles you, wife?” he asked, voice so low it was barely a mutter. His eyes caught a flicker of the torchlight and flashed like a wild animal’s.

“Your gods are strange,” she breathed, trying like always to gain some control of the situation.

“Aye,” he chuckled. “So are yours.” Benjicot’s eyes softened then, the viscous gleam undercut by something else— something she did not dare name. He moved his hand to the back of her neck and palmed it gently.

“We need not do this here, if you find it displeasing,” he offered, his other hand slipping to her lower back to toy with the laces of her dress.

She considered it: a warm bed or the cool misty ground around her.

And she kissed him.

The cloak fell from her shoulders first. Then the tunic off his chest. Then his fingers tangled in the laces of her dress finally gave way. She may have heard some ripping and though it was her favorite dress, he was suddenly kissing at her neck, and she couldn’t be bothered to care. He licked along her jaw and down to the juncture of the shoulder and bit down, hard. She gasped loudly, breath misting in the night air. He passed over the bite with his tongue to soothe the ache and she shivered.

Finally, the gown slid away, and Visenya stood nude before him. She wanted badly to cover her breasts but she dared not balk. I am a dragon for gods’ sake, she thought, and so she stood straight backed, silver hair loose and tumbling over one shoulder.

He slid his hand down her neck and to her breast, peaked against the cold. He fell to his knees, hands sliding down her frame as he went.

He kneeled for a moment before her, as if he worshiped at her altar. She ran a hand gently through his hair.

Then he kissed at her navel, at her hip, and finally at her core.

He licked into her, and this too, he did like a drowning man. She gasped, and breathed, and gasped again at the foreign sensations, so strong and new, as they rocked her body. While he sucked and tongued at her center, one hand crept up to her breasts again. He pinched one nipple, rolling it in his fingers, and it was all suddenly too much—overwhelming. She called out a gasping warning, hands gripped tight against his head, before her climax rang through her like lightning.

Her spine shot straight, back arched up to the night sky, before she folded to the ground, her head and waist caught in his hands so he could lower her carefully.

Safely laid against the ground, Visenya caught her breath. It seemed as if the world had shifted and she was now trying to find her way back to it. Blinking her eyes clear, she noticed the Blackwood above her, watching. His eyes were unfathomably dark.

She glanced down quickly and noticed the straining bulge against his trousers. All feelings of trepidation gone, only bliss and quiet satiety left in their wake, she reached a hand down to pull at his belt.

“Are you sure my lady,” he breathed, a grin slashing across his flushed cheeks. “More?”

She aimed for her signature raised brow, though she felt so content she doubted she could manage it. He laughed all the same, kneeling back for a moment to undo his belt.

He pulled his trousers down and his manhood sprung loose, arced with a curve that looked nigh painful.

Visenya bit her lip again. Emboldened by the pleasure still quivering through her body, she reached a hand to it and ran a thumb across its beaded tip. It was then his turn to shiver.

They kissed languidly, unhurried, as he situated himself above her, her legs parting naturally to bracket him. They fit together well, slotting into place with a long pull of tongue against tongue. She tasted herself on him.

His manhood teased at her entrance, before slowly inching forward with a rock of his hips. She could hear a whining-moaning noise. Distantly, she was aware it was her. In tiny increments he sheathed himself fully, pushed to the hilt. The feeling was momentarily so intense that neither dared move, foreheads resting together.

She was so full, every pleasured nerve drawn taught in the fullness. It was perfect and also agony. So she whined, kicking her heel at his back for him to move.

He buried a moan into her neck, and obliged.

They rocked together, slow at first but quickly building pace. The electricity began to arc up her spine once more and she clenched her thighs in warning. As she came, the reverberations of her body ripped his climax from him as well, in a stuttering, heaving, sort of groan.

They lay together for a long while, and the blood and seed fed the earth beneath the tree.

They returned to the war camp that night, nearly as the dawn broke, exhausted but happy. He lingered at her tent, hesitant to part. She gave a soft private smile.

“You may stay. If you like,” she offered. He simply nodded his own small smile back, too content to be the biting grin he usually wore.

After too few hours of rest, Visenya and Benjicot rose and dressed for the council. They traded lazy kisses in the golden light of morning.

The morning, like always, brought news.

Caraxes had landed nearby.

Her father stood, posture as familiar and straight backed as her own, at the council table as she approached. His dragon helm was tucked beneath one arm. The other lords eyed him warily, speaking to each other in hushed tones.

Visenya did not falter, striding into place next to him with her chin held high. Benjicot stood behind her a few paces, defensively guarding her rear flank.

“Kepa,” she greeted.

Father.

Daemon flicked his eyes to hers, they were ringed with dark circles.

“Olvie ēza arlinnon ziry vestragon,” he rumbled, voice rasping.

Much has changed it seems.

Something is different in him, she noticed. Her father carried a weariness he had not before his time at Harrenhal. She inclined her head in a gesture of respect.

“Eman won ērinnon rȳ se Qelbria,” she proclaimed.

I have won victories across the Riverlands.

She gestured at the pieces on the board and continued, “Eman gūrogon hāre sombāzmion sīr tolmiot.”

I have taken three castles so far.

He nodded slightly, and she paused to take a slight breath before she continued, “Eman gūrogon iā valzȳrys hae sȳrī.”

I have taken a husband as well.

#teeheeeee #thanks for waiting guys sorry this part took longer i was hella busy #davos blackwood #kieran burton #fancast! benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x oc #benjicot blackwood #house of the dragon #benjicot x reader #bloody ben #targaryen!oc #targaryen!reader #visenya targaryen #visenya! daughter of rhaenyra and daemon

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00valentina-writes00 · 25 days ago

Note

Bottom reader w Ellie in a rose garden (use imagination I just thought it was romantic)

✞⛧ In Bloom ⛧✞

warnings: explicit sexual content, fingering, oral sex (receiving), grinding, praise, teasing, Ellie being a cocky loser, outdoor sex, soft moments, lots of kissing, slight emotional vulnerability, heavy tension, sub!top ellie, dom!Bottom reader (I really can’t see Ellie as a full top-)

You followed Ellie through the winding paths of the garden. Her wiry frame moved with an ease that spoke of years of skateboarding and running from trouble, her loose jeans and vintage band tee somehow making her look more at home in this idyllic setting than anyone else could. She glanced back at you, her sharp green eyes catching the sunlight, and smirked. That smirk. It always did something to you—something that made your stomach flutter and your cheeks heat.

“You coming, or what?” she called, her voice teasing, her tone laced with that ever-present confidence.

You quickened your pace, the picnic basket in your hand swaying slightly. “You’re the one who decided to turn this into a nature hike,” you shot back, though there was no real bite to your words.

Ellie laughed, a low, raspy sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Relax. We’re almost there.”

She led you to a secluded clearing, the grass soft and lush beneath your feet. The roses here were wilder, their petals a deep, passionate red that seemed to pulse in the sunlight. Ellie dropped her backpack and flopped down onto the grass, leaning back on her elbows. She tilted her head up, her messy brown hair catching the light, and closed her eyes. “See? Worth it.”

You set the basket down and joined her, sitting cross-legged on the grass. “Okay, maybe you were right.”

Her eyes cracked open, and she grinned. “Maybe? I’m always right.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. The two of you unpacked the picnic, the silence between you comfortable, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant hum of bees. Ellie was quiet as she ate, her gaze drifting over the roses, her expression unreadable. It was moments like this—when the mask of sarcasm and bravado slipped—that you caught glimpses of the vulnerability she worked so hard to hide.

“What’re you thinking about?” you asked, your voice soft.

She glanced at you, her smirk returning, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “Just how lucky I am to have you here with me,” she said, her tone half-joking, but there was something in her voice—something genuine—that made your heart skip a beat.

You reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You don’t have to act tough with me, you know.”

Her expression faltered for a moment, and she looked away. “I’m not acting.”

You didn’t push. Instead, you leaned in, your lips brushing against hers in a gentle kiss. Ellie’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she hesitated. But then she was kissing you back, her hands finding your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, slow and heated, and you could feel the tension in her body—the way she was holding back, trying to keep control.

That wasn’t going to work for you.

You pulled away, just enough to look into her eyes. “Stop thinking so much,” you murmured, your voice low.

Her gaze flickered with something—surprise, maybe, or vulnerability. But then she smirked, that cocky mask slipping back into place. “Who’s thinking?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you pushed her back onto the grass, straddling her hips. Her breath caught, and for a moment, she looked stunned. But then her hands were on your thighs, her grip firm, and she was looking up at you with something in her eyes that made your heart race.

“Fuck,” she muttered, her voice hoarse.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against her ear. “You’re easy, Ellie.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her hands tightening on your thighs. “Shut up.”

You didn’t. Instead, you kissed her again, your hands sliding under her shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin, the taut muscles of her stomach. Ellie’s breath hitched, and she arched into your touch, her hips shifting beneath you.

“You’re wet already, aren’t you?” you murmured against her lips.

She groaned, her hands sliding up to grip your hips. “It’s not my fault you’re so fucking hot.”

You smirked, your fingers tracing the waistband of her jeans. “Take these off.”

Ellie hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching yours. But then she was fumbling with the button, her hands trembling slightly as she pushed her jeans down her legs. You watched her, your breath catching at the sight of her—her wiry frame, her toned stomach, her soft, rosy nipples already hardening under your gaze.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you murmured, your hands sliding up her thighs, feeling the warmth of her skin.

Ellie let out a shaky breath, her hips shifting beneath you. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

You smirked, your fingers teasing the edge of her panties. “You’re such a liar.”

She laughed, the sound breathless and strained. “Yeah, maybe.”

You pulled her panties down, your breath catching at the sight of her—her petite, neat vagina glistening with arousal, her inner lips a deep, enticing pink. You could see her clit, already swelling with need, and you felt a surge of heat between your own legs.

“Fuck, Ellie,” you murmured, your fingers brushing against her inner lips, feeling how soft and smooth they were.

She shuddered, her breath hitching. “Fuck—”

You traced her clit, slow and teasing, and she arched into your touch, a soft whimper escaping her lips. “You’re so sensitive,” you murmured, your voice low.

She groaned, her hips shifting, trying to get more friction. “Shut up-”

The air was thick with the scent of roses, their petals soft and velvety against your skin as Ellie’s lips suddenly crashed into yours. Her hands were everywhere—threading through your hair, gripping your waist, sliding under the hem of your shirt. You could feel the urgency in her touch, the way her fingers trembled slightly, betraying the cool, confident exterior she always wore. She needed this. Needed you. Ellie flipped the script, pushing you back Into the grass.

“Ellie,” you breathed into the kiss, your voice barely a whisper against her lips. She didn’t respond, just deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding against yours in a way that had your whole body tingling. Her teeth nipped at your bottom lip, drawing a soft moan from your throat that she swallowed greedily.

Her hips pressed into yours as she straddled you, the heat of her body searing through the thin fabric of your clothes. You could feel the dampness between her legs, the way her clit rubbed against yours through the layers of fabric. It was intoxicating, the way she moved—confident and desperate all at once.

“Fuck, you’re so—” she started, her voice raspy, but she cut herself off with a groan as you arched up into her, your hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. Her green eyes locked onto yours, dark and wild, and you could see the vulnerability there, the way she was letting herself fall apart for you.

“Tell me what you want, Ellie,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. Your fingers traced the waistband of her jeans, feeling the way her stomach tensed under your touch. She was always so guarded, so careful with her words, but here, with you, she was raw and unfiltered.

“I want you,” she admitted, her voice shaky, and it was the most honest thing she’d ever said to you. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

Her hands moved to your shirt, tugging it up and over your head in one swift motion. The cool air kissed your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of her gaze as she took you in. Her lips found yours again, and this time, there was a hunger there, a desperation that had your mind spinning.

She moved down your body, her lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, your sternum, your stomach. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of your jeans, and she looked up at you, her eyes dark with need. “Can I?” she asked, her voice breathless.

You nodded, your heart racing as she slowly slid your jeans down your legs, followed by your panties. There was no going back now. The cool grass beneath you was a stark contrast to the heat of her skin as she settled between your legs, her breath warm against your core.

“God, you’re beautiful,” she murmured, her voice reverent, and it made you ache in ways you hadn’t expected. Her fingers traced the outer lips of your pussy, the touch so light it was almost teasing. You whimpered, your hips lifting off the ground, searching for more.

“Ellie, please,” you begged, your voice breaking on her name. She smirked, that cocky, confident smile that usually drove you crazy, but right now, it only made you want her more.

“Patience,” she chided, her voice thick with amusement, but her touch was anything but patient. Her fingers slid through your folds, finding your clit and circling it with a pressure that had your back arching off the ground. You gasped, your hands fisting in her messy hair as she leaned in, her tongue replacing her fingers.

“Oh, fuck—” you moaned, your voice loud in the quiet of the garden. Her tongue was relentless, licking and sucking at your clit in a way that had your legs trembling. She slid a finger inside you, curling it just right, and you felt your orgasm building, hot and urgent.

“Come for me,” she murmured against you, her voice muffled but still commanding. And you did, your body shaking as you came apart under her skillful touch. She didn’t stop, didn’t let up, until you were writhing beneath her, overstimulated and desperate for a moment to catch your breath.

When she finally pulled away, her lips were wet, her eyes glazed with satisfaction. She crawled back up your body, her hands sliding up your sides, and kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on her tongue.

She pressed her body against yours, her hips rolling so that her clit rubbed against yours. The sensation was electric, and you moaned into her mouth, your hands gripping her hips to keep her close.

You could feel how wet she was, how desperate she was for release, and it only made you want her more. You reached down between you, your fingers finding her clit, and she groaned, her hips stuttering against yours.

“Fuck, yes,” she gasped, her voice breaking as you rubbed slow, deliberate circles around her clit. Her body trembled above you, her breath coming in short, shallow pants. “Don’t stop—god, don’t stop.”

You didn’t, your fingers working her until she was writhing above you, her nails digging into your shoulders. She came with a cry, her body shuddering as she collapsed on top of you, her breath hot against your neck.

For a moment, you just lay there, tangled together in the grass, the scent of roses heavy in the air. Her fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, and you could feel the way her heart was still racing against yours.

“That was—” she started, her voice breathless, but she didn’t finish, just let out a soft laugh that made your chest ache with something you couldn’t quite name.

You kissed her temple, your fingers threading through her messy hair. “Yeah,” you agreed, your voice just as shaky. “It was.”

She lifted her head, her green eyes searching yours, and for a moment, you thought she might say something, might put words to the thing that was hanging heavy between you. But instead, she just kissed you, slow and soft, her lips lingering against yours

#loser ellie #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie willams x reader #ellie smut #ellie willams smut #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #the last of us drabbles #the last of us headcanons #the last of us imagine #the last of us fic #the last of us

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pampalightingmarketing · 7 months ago

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Bluetooth Led Light Bulb | Pampalighting

A Bluetooth LED Light Bulb by Pampalighting lets you control your lights with your phone. You can change the color, brightness, and even set timers. It's easy to install, energy-efficient, and perfect for creating the right mood in any room. Just connect the bulb to your phone's Bluetooth and enjoy smart lighting.

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merlincmgirl · 5 months ago

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Outdoors - Wolffe x FReader - NSFW

Summary: Wolffe just wants 5 minutes alone with you, is that too much to ask? Well according to his brothers it is. So after all the interruptions, he drags you through the forest on the planet you were stationed on to finally have your undivided attention. He's going to make sure his brothers know exactly who you belong to.

Characters: Wolffe, Sinker, Comet, Boost

Pairing: Wolffe x F!Reader

Word Count: 7,690

Warnings: PinV sex, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, marking, possessive, biting (it is Wolffe), outdoor sex

Authour's Note: Wolffe is just... is just... he has a hold over me and filth just pours out. My brain melts with him!

shebs - backside, rear, buttocks

mir'shebs - smartasses

Wolffe was annoyed. No, not just annoyed, he was furious. For the past half a rotation, he just wanted 5 minutes alone with you, was that too much to ask? Well according to his brothers it was. Every time he thinks he has you alone, one of his brother interrupts.

First it was Sinker, who found you speaking quietly to him in the Command Centre after you had given him your initial report on the state of the transporters. The Centre wasn’t empty, but it was quiet, allowing a brief conversation before you would both have to return to your duties. His Sergeant had sighed in relief at seeing you, asking if you could help look over some of the communication towers that were broken during landing. His cyare had sighed and flashed him a soft smile before leaving to do her duty.

The second time it happened was in the mess hall. The pair of you had finally sat down to eat, hopeful that you would get something down you before work started up again. It was one of the only occasions that your paths may cross during the day without the expectation of reports and military protocols weighing you both down. So both you and Wolffe enjoyed these quiet moments, where you could share a meal together and talk quietly.

Comet had been the one to barge in on the moment, sitting down beside you and sparing Wolffe an apologetic glance before requesting your help. He seemed hesitant to tell you the reason, glancing over at the Commander before his desperate eyes flashed back to yours. Well that was going to be a headache for him later, Wolffe was sure. Laughing, you had assured Comet that you’d help deal with whatever was going on and wished Wolffe an affectionate goodbye before following after his younger brother.

The next time, it was Boost who interrupted, as he finally got you alone behind one of the supply tents that had been set up. He had just been about to wrap you up in his arms when Boost came round the corner, lighting up at seeing both his brother and his favourite Chief Engineering Officer. There was annoyance in your eyes but you greeted Boost with all the kindness that you possessed, as he asked if you would like to go see the shinies finally have the courage to talk to General Buir. Without waiting for a reply, he had led you away, shooting Wolffe a smirk and a wink over his shoulder as he dragged you away by your hand.

That was when Wolffe realised that something was going on. He wouldn’t put it past his brothers if it was Boost’s idea to annoy the Commander by dragging his cyare away during the few times they were alone. When you were both on duty, he rarely got any time with you. Mainly seeing you only in meetings or when you gave him your reports. So what little time he got when the 104th were on a mission, he would pull you somewhere quiet and finally spend time with you.

But his vod’ika’s little prank wouldn’t be happening for much longer. Because Wolffe has a plan, a plan to finally get you alone and away from annoying di’kut brothers.

So after all the interruptions, he drags you through the forest on the planet you were stationed on to finally have your undivided attention. He's going to make sure his brothers know exactly who you belong to.

You grunted, loosening the top button of your officer’s uniform as you trudged away through the forest, following Wolffe’s broad back. His grey and white armour was a delight to look at and it highlighted the curve of his ass perfectly. At least this way you got a nice view on your hiking trip with the Commander.

“Wolffe, for kriff’s sake, where are we going? We’re going to be out of sight of the men soon!” you grumbled, following after the Commander in front of you. A native fly buzzed at you and you angrily swatted it away. It was too hot for this, you could already feel your temples begin to dampen.

This planet was covered in a humid forest that went on for miles and miles. Perfect place to hide an entire army of clones – or droids. So the protocol was to not wonder off and make sure there was at least a group of you in case you found trouble. And you were walking further and further away from base.

“Good, they’ll be fine. Now quit complaining” Wolffe grunted, stepping over a small ditch and turning to offer you a helping hand. His strong grasp almost lifted you over the gap and safely next to him. He squeezed your hand once before letting go and continuing your walk.

You had been following him for a bit, the conversation pretty much one sided. Wolffe looked around stopping only for a moment before carrying on, a path known only to him. You were starting to suspect though he had less of a destination in mind and more and more that he was getting lost and wondering around. Sighing heavily at the heat that was beginning to cling to your skin, you bumped your shoulder against his arm. “We’re lost, aren’t we?” you questioned.

Wolffe turned to raise an unimpressed eyebrow at you, his cybernetic eye glinting in what light that made it’s way through the tree tops. “Of course we’re not lost. The men are 2 klicks West” he huffed, pointing back in the direction you came.

“Alright then, I’ll believe you” you grinned, slipping your hand into his and giving it a squeeze. Wolffe looked down at your enclasped hands and he smiled slightly, returning your squeeze. “Lead the way, Commander” you instructed, letting him tug you forwards.

“You know, I don’t know if it’s this heat or what, but your brothers have been very demanding today. I don’t think I got a moment’s peace with them” you frowned, wondering back to the Wolfpack's behaviour.

“Hmm, or what” Wolffe grumbled, moving a branch out the way for you so it didn’t get tangled in your hair or whip into your face. “It was Boost’s idea, I’m sure of it” he told you, leading you further into the forest.

“What’s he done now?” you sighed, dreading the headache that Boost would no doubt cause. If he was keeping you distracted, then that meant that something was going on that you weren’t meant to know about. You just hoped that whatever it was wouldn’t require you to clean up a big mess or lie to the General, you hated to see his disappointed face.

“Those little mir’shebs are keeping us apart for some reason, probably to piss me off” Wolffe explained and you had to hide your laughter behind a well timed cough.

“Really?” you asked, voice a little too high judging by Wolffe’s scowl, “why would they want to do that?”

Wolffe hummed, rolling his eyes at your amusement. “You’ve met my vode, cyare” he reminded, shaking his head.

This time you really did laugh, because if there was one thing the Wolfpack liked to do, was play pranks on each other. Normally Wolffe was kept out of most pranks due to his Commander position, but he was still on the receiving end of a few of the milder ones. “True! But it seems as if they’ve failed because I’m here with you” you grinned, wrapping your arm around the one holding your hand and pressing into him.

Wolffe pressed a brief kiss to your head before he straightened up and tugged you forward. “We’re here!” he announced happily, finally pleased to have reached the spot that his patrol squad had informed him about.

Pulling away from him, you couldn’t help but gasp. In front of you was a small clearing, with beautiful bioluminescent flowers surrounded by huge trees with thick, ageing trunks that reached high into the sky. Blinking in wonderment you stepped forward, careful to not disturb the flowers too much. “Wow!” you breathed, taking it all in.

A hand laid on the small of your back, and you turned to face Wolffe with a wide beam on your face. “How did you find this place?” you wondered, leaning into the warm weight of his hand.

“Patrol found it and told me about it. Thought it might be a nice little place to get away from everyone” Wolffe shrugged, pulling you into his arms. As you wiggled your way into his hold, back pressed against his chest, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of affection in his chest at the small movement. It showed him just how comfortable and safe you felt in his arms, and he couldn’t help but agree. It was like second nature to hold you so close, to have his head hook on your shoulder and feel your fingers run through his curls.

“It’s beautiful Wolffe, almost as beautiful as you” you smiled, holding onto the vambraces he wore on his wrists.

His chest rumbled with a chuckle and he squeezed you tighter against him. “Very cheesy, mesh’la” he murmured, pressing his nose into your hair and letting in a deep breathe of your scent. It helped him feel relaxed, more like Wolffe, rather than Commander of the 104th Attack Battalion.

You spun in his arms, throwing yours around his neck and pulling him down to you. “But you love me for it” you shrugged, enjoying the way Wolffe’s eyes squinted with happiness as he looked at you.

“Do I now?” he teased, leaning closer to hover his lips over yours, feeling the way your breath caught in your throat.

“Yeah” you breathed, focus zooming in on those perfect lips of his that was curling up into a smirk.

“Yeah I do” he confirmed, pressing his lips against yours. His hand came to cup your cheek, tilting your head up so he could kiss you how he wanted. Nipping at your lower lip, you gasped, and he took that as the invitation he needed to sweep his tongue into your mouth, seeking out your own.

You groaned, chest arching against his cuirass as you tugged him down into you. His tongue worked against your own, teasing you even further and you couldn’t help but feel heat flush through you.

Wolffe kissed just like he did everything else. With passion and strategy. He flicked his tongue against the tip of your own. It was almost like he wanted to consume you and overwhelm you, delighting in your little moans and groans against his lips.

Eventually you both pulled away, the urge to breath getting in your way. Resting your head in his neck, you panted, trying to stop your head from swimming at his kiss. A hand travelled to the nape of your neck, guiding you up to face him and you couldn’t avoid the smug look on Wolffe’s face at how breathless you were.

“You’re panting like me” you reminded, tapping his cuirass and shaking your head at him.

“Oh, but not as much as you, mesh’la” he chuckled lowly, the sound sending tingles down to your core.

Grumbling, you began to relieve him of his upper body armour, determined to feel the strong, warm planes of his body rather than the cool, hard ridges of his armour. The heat of the planet and forest was getting to you, and you guided Wolffe’s hands to the hem of your shirt so he could help you out of it.

As soon as that was on the floor, Wolffe groaned as he took you in. The way your skin glistened slightly with the humidity of the planet, how your curves were highlighted with every breath you took. The regulating temperature control of his body suit was a comfort, and he dreaded having to take it off but he had to if he wanted to feel your soft, delicate skin against his own. And he really, really wanted to do that.

“So beautiful” he murmured, trailing his gloved hands down the slope of your neck and resting just below your collarbone.

Starting at the belt around his waist, you glided your fingers over his tense abdominals, up over his chest, making sure to circle his nipples lightly before going upwards, until you could feel the small button that kept the top of his blacks closed around his neck.

Wolffe groaned, hands bracketing your neck before bringing you in for another kiss.

As you lost yourself to the kiss, Wolffe worked on undoing the bottoms of your own uniform, hooking his thumbs into the waistline and sliding them down your legs, breaking the kiss. He tugged off your boots, helping to keep you steady before pulling off your trousers.

You were left nearly bare in front of him, only your chest band and pants covering you from his heavy gaze. Shivering slightly, but not from the temperature, you reached out for his own belt, unclipping it and letting it drop to the floor. His helmet, that was clipped onto the belt, rolled amongst the flowers, but neither of you cared.

“Go on, keep going mesh’la” he growled, eyes never leaving yours.

Breath hitching in your throat, you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him, the soft grass and flowers providing a comfort to your knees. Carefully, you unlatched his cuisses and placed them beside you in the grass. Next came his knee plates, and you added them to the growing pile around you. Pressing a kiss to his covered thigh, you hooked your fingers under his greaves and pulled them off as well, looking up into his dark eye and glowing white cybernetic one. There was only his boots and codpiece left. Wanting to tease him a little, you pulled off each boot, throwing them behind you somewhere.

“Keep going” he ordered, eyes never leaving yours, as his voice dropped another octave.

You felt slick leak out of you at that, no doubt forming a wet patch in your pants. But you trailed your fingers up his broad, strong and powerful thighs and worked your fingers under the catch. You could hear Wolffe’s breath catch in his throat as you slowly pulled away his codpiece. When you put it down beside the other pieces of armour, you turned back around to him, looking up at him past the bulge in his blacks.

“Good girl” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. It caught on your lip and he pulled it down slightly before he lowered himself down in front of you. “Can I take this off, mesh’la?” he asked, hands stopping at the back of your chest band.

“Of course” you consented, feeling relief as the monstrous contraption was taken off you.

Large, warm, calloused hands cupped your breasts, massaging the ache away before you met his eyes once more. He had been watching you, taking in how you relaxed into him and the relief you got from him doing that. He ran a thumb over your nipples briefly, before laying a hand on your chest and pushing until you lay back in the flowers and grass.

It was like a floral mattress, the ground soft and it smelled so beautiful that you couldn’t help but sigh, looking up at Wolffe as he was illuminated by the brightest blues and reds and greens and pinks. He looked like a God from this angle.

Wolffe thought the same, staring down at you from where he was hovering over you. You looked so damn beautiful it almost hurt to look at you. But what made it all the more perfect was the look on your face as you gazed up at him. It was full of love, desire and affection. Nobody had looked at him like that before. He felt special, important, like out of all his brothers he was the one you would pick every time.

Wolffe let out a little growl before falling forward, landing on his hands on either side of your head. He pressed a passionate kiss to you, losing himself in the feel of you against him, in the way that your legs spread naturally to welcome him into the v of your legs. He grunted as you cupped his face, keeping him pressed against you.

When you pulled away, you let your fingers trace gently over his scar, knowing how much he still hated it. “You know, Commander, you’re wearing too many clothes” you grinned, playfully tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Oh really, mesh’la? I was going to say the same about you” he chuckled warmly, before sitting up properly and throwing his blacks behind him. When he returned, he skimmed a hot, calloused hand down your side and stopped at your hip, before trailing his fingers from right to left along your waist in a teasing pattern.

You bucked your hips under his hands, hoping he’d take the hint and pull off your pants. But you knew Wolffe, he loved to tease you, so you waited for him to make the next move. When he still hadn’t done anything, just idly tracing patterns along the hemline of your pants, you couldn’t help but let out noises of dissatisfaction.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” he teased, letting the fingertips of one hand slowly slip between the material just enough to get your breath to hitch before he was pulling away.

“Wolffe, you haven’t even touched me yet! Come on” you hissed, reaching to thread your fingers through his hair.

He chuckled, rising up your body and presses soft kisses along the way until he was hovering over your panting chest. Wolffe cupped one in his hand, delighting at the weight before latching onto your other breast, sucking dark marks around the curve before taking your nipple into his mouth. He worked it into a stiff peak, gently rolling the bud in his mouth.

His other hand continued to work your other breast, squeezing and massaging it, grazing his nail lightly over the stiff peak. He loved hearing you moan and the way your hips bucked up into his stomach, searching for a friction that he wasn’t ready to give to you yet.

“Wolffe!” you gasped, tugging sharply at his dark curls as he ran his teeth over the sensitive nipple. His hand pinched the other one, making you cry out and arch into his touch.

Giving a hum of acknowledgement that sent tingles down your spine, you directed his mouth to the other breast, eager to feel his mouth on that side. He moaned around his new task, flicking and pinching your already slicked up nipple just to get you to moan loudly.

“Kriff Wolffe, you’re… everyone will know… what we’re doing” you panted, eyes sliding closed as you lost yourself in the sensation of his mouth and lips pulling at your buds, stiffened and shiny with his saliva.

“I’m counting on it, mesh’la” he assured, pressing a kiss to the valley of your breasts before kissing up your throat, feeling the thrumming of your pulse against his lips. He loved just how affected you got from his kisses and touches. He ran a hand over your chest and around your throat, not squeezing but keeping it there for a moment.

You shivered at the way he felt around you, encompassing every one of your senses as you ran your hands along his broad shoulders. Feeling the slightly slicked skin, you tugged him down to you, wanting to feel more of him. Throwing your head back, you couldn’t hold in your delighted nose as you felt his talented tongue and lips on your sensitive neck.

It felt so right to have him press himself against you and suck bruises and marks all along your neck. Everyone who would look at you would know you were taken. Would put two and two together and get the right answer. You didn’t have these hickies when you went into the forest with Wolffe, but you sure as hell had them when you came out of it later.

“Wolffe” you breathed, trying to get his attention on your face rather than sucking purpling marks along your neck. With a sharp pull at his hair, his head popped up and he found himself staring into your beautiful, flushed face. “Please mark me, I want everyone to know who I belong to” you begged, tilting your head to the side so he could have more room to work with.

“Oh, you’re perfect, mesh’la. Everyone will know just exactly who you belong to after this. Know just who it is that can make you feel so good, isn’t that right, mesh’la?” he purred, smiling lips pressed against you.

You hummed in reply, letting out a sigh at the feel of him against the ticklish spot under your ear. Pressing your hips against his, you could feel his hardened length through his blacks grind back down into you.

He worked his way down your body, kissing and grazing his teeth along the way, he seemed determined to make sure that anyone who looked at you would know that you were his, and he was yours. As well as the added bonus of keeping his annoying brothers away from you, was also a positive for him, you were sure.

Letting out a curse as his lips brushed against a ticklish spot, you couldn’t help but giggle and flinch away from him. He chuckled against you, running his hands up and down your sides before laying a wet, smacking kiss to the spot.

“Get off!” you grinned, shoving his head further down your body.

“Oh I’ll get you off, mesh’la” he smirked, looking up to see the playful roll of your eyes.

“All bark but no bite from what I can tell” you teased back, knowing it would work him up.

He huffed, mismatched eyes glinting at you before he returned to his journey down the length of your body. “Kriff, I can’t wait to put bruises all over your pretty skin” he cursed, nipping roughly at your side before running his tongue over the mark soothingly.

You hissed, body shuddering at his rough touch but relaxing back as you felt the warm glide of his tongue against the mark. That one would be staying on you for a while, that’s for sure.

Feeling him reach the edge of your underwear, he took in a deep breath and sighed, the warmth of his breath washing over your sensitive core. Goosebumps erupted over your skin, and Wolffe was quick to soothe them away with his hands. Sitting up on your elbows, you watched as he latched his teeth into the waistline of your underwear and then released them, the sharp sting of the hemline sending fire coursing through you.

“Ready mesh’la?” he asked, stopping what he was doing and looking up at you. He always asked for your consent, even when he was lost in his own passion. He refused to move until you had given your verbal consent. On some nights, it was a wonderful way to tease you both, but you didn’t want to wait now, you wanted to feel his mouth against you.

“Yes! Come on Wolffe” you breathed, trying to writhe your hips underneath him. But he pinned the hips down and gave you a warning look.

“Keep still, you know I enjoy unwrapping you” he ordered, peeling your underwear off you and pulling them down slowly. He groaned at the sight of your slicked entrance and your glistening folds were revealed, the material clinging onto you slightly before he tugged them off you.

Heat rushed to your face, blushing at the look of hunger that was on Wolffe’s own as he stared at your entrance. Your thighs tried to move, to close together to get away from the embarrassment at seeing just how much you affected him. However his hands quickly came up to hold you open for his gaze, hands strong and caring as he bit his lip.

“Mesh’la,” he breathed, staring at your core, “you’re so wet for me, sweetheart.”

Before you could say anything, he got down closer to your entrance, supporting himself on his elbows as he pressed a soft kiss to your thigh. One hand brushed soothing circles on your thigh, the other came to run explorative fingers through your slicked folds.

You sighed at the touch, knowing it was only the start. Wolffe couldn’t get enough of you, and he ate pussy like a man possessed. He always made you see stars with just his mouth and fingers, and you knew this time would not be an exception.

Leaning forward, you felt his warm breath caress your wet entrance, making you shiver at the conflicting sensations. Deciding that his hungry observation was through, Wolffe hooked his two thumbs on your lips and spread you open for him.

“Kriff!” you hissed, reaching down to clutch at him.

“My thoughts exactly, sweetheart” he growled, seeing your puffy folds and dripping entrance on full display for him. He didn’t waste any more time and ducked his head to take your clit into his mouth, giving it a hard suck that had you cursing him at how he went from 1 to 100 on your exposed cunt.

He flicked his tongue against the your button once more before making his way down to your entrance where your juices were pooling. Moaning, he collected them all on his tongue, savouring the taste before he was pushing his tongue inside of you.

All thoughts fled your head as he used his nose to nudge your clit while he drank your arousal straight from the source, seemingly not being able to get enough as he tried to push deeper inside of you.

“Fuck! Kriff! Wolffe, right there, oh!” you cried, tugging on his hair to direct him to a spot that was just aching for his touch. When you felt his tongue massage you there you couldn’t help but arch into him, moans and whines falling from your lips as Wolffe feasted on you.

Wolffe grunted at a particularly hard squeeze of his hair and pulled your legs over his shoulders, getting closer towards the nectar that was dripping from you and spreading all over his jaw. When all that did was have you buck more into his mouth and pull sharply at his curls, Wolffe growled lowly, vibrations shooting straight through your cunt to the heat that was coiling in your stomach.

Withdrawing from your delicious cunt, he grabbed both of your hands and secured them on your stomach, one large hands encompassing both your wrists and pinning them down.

“Wolffe! Please!” you whined, pouting at not being able to touch him for the moment.

“Stay there, or do I have to bring my cuffs out?” he threatened, nipping at your inner thigh in addition.

Kriff, you wouldn’t mind if he got his cuffs out to keep you still, but that would mean he would have to move away from you to get them from his belt. And you really didn’t want him to leave you, even for a moment. Shaking your head, you relaxed back into the grass beneath you.

“Now be a good girl, and let me work” he smirked, eyes all dark and promising.

He went back to eating your cunt, the way he approached it just like he did everything else, with passion, determination and giving it his all. Sucking on your clit, he pressed two fingers inside of your soaking entrance, stretching them out a little as he felt the way you clung onto them.

Moaning at the feeling of him filling you, even if it was just with his fingers, you tried to spread yourself even more for him, desperate to feel him deeper inside of you.

Wolffe groaned, grazing his teeth over your sensitive nub and delighting in the loud cry you let out. He curled his fingers just slightly before pushing them inside of you at a fast pace, opening you up for him even when you were clutching around him, desperate to suck his fingers inside of you.

“Kriff, you’re holding my fingers so tight, it’s like you never want them to leave” he murmured, watching at the way your entrance stretched around his fingers.

“Wolffe!” you panted, flushing heavily at his words as you felt your pleasure reaching it’s peak. “More!” you demanded, hips rising up against the strong hold he had of you.

Wolffe smirked wickedly, glancing up at you to see you looking down with pleasure-hazed eyes, desperate for more to push you over the edge. “Yeah, I’ll give you more sweetheart, but you have to take it like a good girl” he nodded, kissing just above your clit and making you let out a loud curse in frustration.

Chuckling, he entered a third finger inside of you, enjoying the squelching noises as he stretched you further on his fingers.

“FUCK!” you cried, hands tightening into fists as he pinned you down even further.

White-hot pleasure zapped through you as his mouth returned to your clit, growls and moans vibrating against your bundle of nerves. You sobbed our a breath as you felt your core tighten around his fingers, your release building and building until it was all you could do to hold on.

But Wolffe didn’t want that, he wanted you cumming around his fingers, wanted to taste your release on his tongue, hear the beautiful sounds you made as he made you cum. So he crooked his fingers, pounding into your cunt with his fingers at a devastating pace. Keeping his mouth to your clit, he hummed around it, burying his face into your cunt.

The coil inside of you snapped, and wave after wave of pleasure washed over you as you reached your peak. Wolffe helped you through it, drinking down your juices as he licked around his slowing fingers. He pulled them out, licking up your release gently and cleaning you up.

When it got too much, you pushed his head away, panting at how overstimulated you felt. Resting back, you looked up at the darkening canopy, taking in the clouds as they passed by until your breathing got back under control.

Looking down, you could see that Wolffe was resting his head on your thigh, drawing patterns on your hip as he watched you with all the softness and love that Wolffe possessed but couldn’t show anyone else.

“You okay?” he checked in, squeezing your hip in concern.

“Better than okay” you assured, running your fingers through his hairline before coming to trail down the scar that ran over his eye and down his cheek. He closed his eyes and hummed at your soft touch.

“Want to continue?” he asked, keeping his voice level so as to never influence your decision. He would respect whatever it is you wanted to do.

“I would really, really love that” you smiled, pulling him up to meet you in a teasing kiss.

Wolffe grunted, lips pressed hard to yours for a moment before pulling back. “Here” he huffed, reaching behind him for something. “Put this on” he grunted, handing you your officer’s jacket.

“What? Why?” you frowned, slipping your arms into the material and pulling it around you. You left the front open though, not willing to fasten it until Wolffe told you what he was planning.

“Because I’m going to fuck you against that tree” he growled, pressing nibbling kisses along your jaw.

Oh! Well okay then, you’d happily do whatever he wanted if he was going to fuck you within an inch of your life against the tree. Grinning at him, you turned your head to connect your lips together, swallowing his groan as you licked into his mouth. His hands squeezed your hips as your tongue flicked against his, tasting yourself on him.

He pulled away, before helping you both to your feet, where he wrapped an arm around you to pull you close. “You’re so beautiful, I’m so fucking lucky to have you” he murmured, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to him.

“We’re both lucky” you reminded him, wiping away a bead of sweat that was pooling on his temple. The pair of you had a light sheen of sweat covering you but you didn’t care, just as long as you could feel Wolffe’s body pressed against your own.

Wolffe nodded in agreement before backing you up against one of the large trees. Even if you wrapped both arms around it’s trunk you wouldn’t be able to connect your hands together. It was massive, and it was perfect for you and Wolffe.

Looking back at him with a playful grin, you leant back against the trunk, making sure to expose your neck to him so he could see all the lovely marks he had decorated you with. “Well, Commander, now that we’re not going to be interrupted, I thought you promised you’d fuck me” you teased him, running a hand between your breasts.

Letting out a low growl, he stalked towards you, pressing you back against the tree as he attacked your lips, hands running down your sides roughly before flicking your stiffened peaks with his thumbs, pinching your nipple afterwards.

It had you gasping, eyes squeezed shut at the burst of pleasure-pain that shot through you. He took advantage of that, slipping his tongue inside of your mouth and devouring you. As he continued to kiss you, his hands slid to your waist and gripped them tightly.

“Jump!” he ordered, and you could do nothing but obey as you leapt up and wrapped your legs around his waist as he caught you.

You slid your arms around the back of his neck, holding on tightly to him as he nuzzled your noses together. Being this pressed against him, you could feel his hardened length slide through your drenched folds, the tip of his member tapping against your clit.

“Kriffing hells Wolffe!” you gritted out, tightening your hold around his waist.

“I know, mesh’la, can’t wait to be inside of you” he groaned, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before he gritted his teeth. “Guide me in sweetheart” he instructed, as he kept you up.

Biting your lip, you reached down between you and wrapped your hand around his velvety, throbbing length. He was so hard, he must be desperate to feel you around him. Giving him a few teasing pumps that had him cursing up a storm, you notched the head of his cock at your entrance.

“Such a tease, mesh’la. Won’t be laughing when I’m through with you” he warned, pushing further into you. It felt like he was spearing you open, carving room for himself inside of you so that you had no other choice but to let him in. He sighed when he was fully in you, groaning at the feel of you fluttering around him as you got used to his size.

It really did feel like he was claiming you, making sure every inch of you was touching him. The top of his cock brushed against that special spot and you couldn’t wait for him to actually move, to feel the force of his thrusts as he took you against the tree.

Wolffe grunted, sliding his arms under your knees and lifting them up from his waist. You gasped, clutching onto his neck tighter as you was suspended in the air, the only thing holding you up was the tree and Wolffe’s strong arms. It left you completely exposed to him and you dropped down lower on his cock. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him deeper than you’d ever felt him before.

“Oh! Wolffe! Feel you in the back of my throat” you cried out, squeezing the back of his neck and trying to take deep breaths into your lungs, but it didn’t seem to be working. Wolffe was making you breathless. Every twitch of movement, every warm breath that fanned across yours as he panted out. It was making it harder and harder to think, to say anything but his name.

“This what you needed mesh’la? Someone to ruin you and put you back together again” he groaned out, pulling his hips away before thrusting back into you.

You hissed, clenching around his cock at both his words and the feel of him inside of you.

“Oh!” Wolffe groaned, jaw tightening at the way you tightened around him even more. “I can feel how much you like that, sweetheart. Can feel how tight you got around me” Wolffe growled, withdrawing from you slowly, hissing out a breath at the way you seemed to clutch onto him, not wanting him to leave your warm, slick hole.

“Please…. Please Wolffe” you begged, nails digging little crescent marks into his bronzed shoulders.

“Alright then, mesh’la, if that’s what you want” he smirked, thrusting back into you roughly.

You screamed, eyes rolling back at the way he pistoned his hips in and out of you, not giving you a moment to recover before he was thrusting in again. With every thrust, it felt like he was hitting your cervix, as deep as he had ever got and you could do nothing more than take it as he held you up.

The sharp bark was muted as you bounced up and down, and you took a second to appreciate Wolffe’s concerns for you and the way he wanted to protect you even when he was fucking you halfway across the galaxy. You whimpered, hand coming to weave it’s way into his curls and pull sharply on them.

Wolffe let out a growl, and your eyes shot open to meet his warm brown orb and his cold, white cybernetic eye. “That’s it, look at me! Look who’s doing this to you” he ordered, sweat beading down his chest now at how hard he was fucking into you.

“KRIFF! There! Don’t… don’t stop!” you shouted, not caring if anyone heard you. Wolffe felt too good inside of you, the way the tip of his cock rubbed against the spot on your clenching walls and was shoving you closer and closer to your next release.

Wolffe grunted animalistically, lips coming to press against yours. It wasn’t the most graceful of kisses, but it was enough, and you whined as his teeth sunk into your lip. “Never stopping… won’t ever” he gasped out, resting his head on your shoulder to look down at where you were both joined. He could hear the slick squelches as he pushed in, could see the way your arousal was bubbling around the base of his cock. He moaned loudly, bringing his gaze back up to you as he felt his balls tighten and pull up.

“Touch yourself, want you to touch your pretty. Little. Clit” he demanded, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust inside.

You couldn’t do anything but nod, thoughts flying out of you as you slipped a hand between you and felt your swollen bundle of nerves. Another moan escaped Wolffe as you travelled further down, brushing against his cock as he slammed into you.

“Kriff! Sweetheart! I said touch yourself” he snapped, as he felt his own release get closer and closer.

Huffing out a laugh at his reaction, you brushed your fingertips against your clit, rubbing them in tight circles, just the way you liked.

“Wolffe!” you cried out, feeling the coil inside of you begging to snap.

“That’s it, fuck. Keep going, want to feel you cum on my cock” he cursed, pounding into you now and squeezing bruises onto your legs from where he was holding you up.

The increase in pace was just what you needed and you couldn’t help but stiffen in his arms, arching against him as much as possible as your release washed over you in crashing waves. You heard yourself scream out Wolffe’s name but it was distant to the ringing in your ears as you clenched around him.

Wolffe groaned, the fluttering of your muscles around him enough to tip him over. You let out a cry as Wolffe clamped down on your shoulder, teeth digging into your flesh as his hips stuttered against yours, hot cum shooting into your clenching channel, milking him for every drop.

Slowly, he lowered you both to the forest floor so that you could both catch your breaths. Wolffe pulled you into his lap, his cock softening inside of you and buried his face into your neck. Sighing, you collapsed further into him, letting yourself relax as he traced patterns up and down your spine. It was enough to send you into a light sleep, all the energy zapped out of you because of Wolffe’s little rendezvous in the forest.

“You okay?” he rumbled, you felt the question more so than heard it.

“You might have to carry me back, my legs aren’t working” you mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

He chuckled, reaching over for his belt and pulling it over to you. Cracking open an eye but refusing to budge from his spot against you for the moment, Wolffe pulled out a water canteen and a ration bar.

Grumbling at having to move away from his furnace like body, you took the ration bar from him and broke it in two. However, instead of accepting his half off you, he pushed the canteen into your hand.

“Drink first” he instructed, lips tugging upwards as you sighed heavily and did what you were told.

As soon as the water touched your lips, you gulped it down greedily, quite worn out after the thorough fucking in this god-awful heat.

“Next time, we fuck in the snow, or the ice. I don’t care as long as I never have to feel this hot again” you complained, passing the canteen back to him. You began to nibble on your ration bar when Wolffe shot a pointed look at it.

He laughed at your words, something deep and low but affectionate nonetheless. “You won’t be saying that when your shebs start to freeze” he reminded, pinching at your ass. He grinned as you flinched away from him, flicking his chest and pouting at him.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll just have to take me back to your tent and keep them warm, won’t you Commander?” you rolled your eyes, watching him gulp down his ration bar in a couple of bites. You don’t know how he did it. They were god awful, the taste both bland and the foulest that you’d ever experienced. But Wolffe seemed immune as he finished his own.

“Come on, mesh’la, as much as I want to keep you here, we’d best be getting back to base before they start looking for us” he sighed, lifting you up off his cock.

You grimaced at the feeling of your combined releases dripping down your thigh. “Ugh, I’m jumping in the refresher as soon as we get back” you grumbled, shaking your head as you located your clothes. You swiftly pulled them on, even if they did feel like they were sticking to you now that they had chance to soak up the moisture in the air.

“In the common refreshers?” Wolffe raised an eye, tugging on his armour quick and efficiently.

“Yeah, you’re making sure that no one else comes in” you told him, watching as his cheeks seemed to flush. As if the thought of his brothers seeing you naked and covered in all of his marks was more embarrassing as to not 10 minutes ago when he was fucking you through the tree.

“Yes ma’am” he leered, pinching your ass as you walked past him back to camp.

Rolling your eyes and rubbing your backside you realised something very quickly. “Er, Wolffe, you do know the way back, right?” you wondered, as the sky began to darken and you weren’t too sure where to go.

“Come on sweetheart, I’ll get us back” he assured, placing his helmet over his head. He came over to take your hand in his own once more, his warm, calloused palm against yours as he led you back the way you had came, no doubt following the path his HUD had set for him.

When you got back to camp, you found Boost, Comet and Sinker around a campfire, chuckling amongst themselves as they cleaned their blasters. They took one look at you both before bursting into laughter, Comet staring open mouthed at the sight before him.

Frowning, you looked down, wondering why they looked like they were busting a gut at the sight of you. However, as you did, you noticed the bioluminescent pollen covering all over you. There was some over all your clothes and attached to Wolffe’s grey and white armour, lighting it up in an array of different colours. It must have transferred over to them when your clothes had been thrown off and you were making love in the flowerbed.

“Damn Commander, Lieutenant, looks like you’ve been rolling around in the stuff” Sinker smirked, holding back his continuous chuckles as he took you in.

“What was you doing to get it all over you like that?” Boost added, winking at you both and snorting as you flushed a bright red. It matched the streak of red pollen across your chest, some of it shaped like a hand.

Wolffe stiffened beside you and you knew that he had had enough of his brothers’ teasing. They seemed to notice as well because Sinker and Boost instantly stopped, and Comet didn’t know whether he should try and melt into the background or put some distance between him and his brothers. Luckily for him, Comet was Wolffe’s favourite and normally got out of any punishment – the same couldn’t be said for the other members of the Wolffe pack.

“That’s it. Latrine duty for the both of you!” Wolffe snapped, glaring at his younger brothers as they spluttered out protests and apologies.

#commander wolffe #wolffe #wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x reader #star wars #tcw wolffe #tbb wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #sw tcw #the clone wars #clone wars #tcw #star wars tcw #star wars the clone wars #kinktober 2024

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kittynugg · 3 months ago

Text

heyyyy guess what i write sometimes too

words: 3,821 im really rusty with writing so uhh read up idk

Stanford Pines had always been a loner.

The stone-cold, action movie hero type of man who never needed anything from anybody. Certainly not companionship.

It was dark. Eleven-thirty, an hour after his niece and nephew had finally stopped bugging him. The boy, who had introduced himself as “Dopper”, “Roderick”, and “Dipper”, had asked him enough questions to make his head spin and English stop making sense to him. And he enjoyed answering questions!

The jury was still out on his name.. All of those seemed cruel to name a child, especially “Roderick”. What he did know for sure was that his nephew was rather sharp for his age. Hence the gratuitous questions.

Mabel, whose name he knew from the girl repeatedly introducing herself in what almost seemed to be a sugar-fueled record skip, asked more about rather childish things like his favorite color (red) and animal (plaidypus). Then, of course, Stanley shooed them away come ten-thirty so they could go to bed and he could have a moment of peace.

Several hours of peace.

Thank the stars.

He decided to spend these hours awake so as to savor them. Also because he couldn't seem to get to sleep, but that wasn't the focus of his reasoning. The nonstop questions, the footsteps pounding on the floor above him and voices shriek-laughing, it was miserable. And Stan had done his best to keep them away from him! It was preferable, yet almost offensive.. Like he was some kind of monster they needed to be protected from.

“As far as I'm concerned, they're the only family I have left.” Fine. Maybe he was a monster. But he was a monster with a job to finish; dismantling the portal. He’d spent the hour since the kids had gone to bed at work, and a well-deserved break was in order.

And so he found himself in the kitchen. Pitch darkness was broken by the refrigerator light as he opened it up and sifted through it. He moved a box of Pitt Cola aside to find a rather captivating prize in the back of the fridge, a six-pack of beer with a sticky-note reading “STAN’S B SODA DO NOT TOUCH” attached to the cardboard handle of the carrier.

Now, Ford was never quite fond of alcohol, but it had been thirty years since he’d tasted Earth alcohol. A mix of curiosity, temptation and the desire to stick it to his brother that person living upstairs won over the simple thought of “I don’t really like this stuff.”

Also he didn’t want to think about why he couldn’t sleep and stress was a bitch.

A six-fingered hand carefully removed the sticky note, and he took out a pen to write on it.

“Very convincing, Knucklehead. -Stanford Pines” was written in neat cursive. He took a bottle of “soda” from the pack and stuck the square of yellow paper back onto it. With the beer in-hand and his journal tucked away in his coat for writing, he realized he would need a private place to unwind. The basement was stuffy. Clearly Stan hadn’t taken care of the ventilation system. Another one of his messes he would have to clean up.

The ideal place would have fresh, cool air, and no “family” to bother him. Unlike that person living upstairs, he didn’t have family. He’d left that behind years ago. There simply wasn’t room for family in his life, not with the dark path he trekked. Destiny wanted him alone and so alone he was.

He dramatically looked to the window as he tried to sip from his closed beer bottle, then glared at it as if it’d dampened his melodramatic display on purpose. But then his eyes darted back up to the window. Fresh air, check. It was outside in the woods. No family, check. Everyone was asleep anyway.

Bingo! He would sit outside for a while! With a pinch of luck, Stan hadn’t removed the ladder leading up to the roof. A beer and journaling in the great outdoors. That was just what he needed tonight.

A short walk into the, ugh, gift shop led him to where the ladder used to reside, now obscured by a blue curtain but still there. The bottle was stored in his coat (it had the perfect little pocket for it, he normally stored a gun in it) so he could climb the ladder with both hands.

He opened up the hatch in the ceiling to poke his head out and look around, and once he was sure nothing was there to watch him he pulled himself up and through. Aged roof tiles nearly slipped out from under his feet as he stepped onto them. Stan’s laziness was going to kill him someday, he swore to god.

Or.. Whatever was up there, he thought as he looked to the stars.

There was a nice, flat edge he could sit on above one of the attic windows. And when he glanced up there, he even saw a chair and cooler! Absolutely not the doing of that person- Stan, too wordy, because Stan was deathly afraid of heights. And the large one (Zeus?) seemed to listen to whatever he said. The only person left to be the culprit had to have been the teenage girl working the counter, Mabel and his nephew were out of the question. Too short and weak to bring anything up there.

Wendy, on the other hand, was the daughter of “Boyish Dan” Corduroy, and he’d seen that man in the gift shops. No longer boyish, and no longer non threatening. He could snap a person in half like a toothpick and then use them as a toothpick. Logically, his children would inherit that strength.

He climbed onto the edge and parked himself up on the chair. A relaxed sigh broke the near-silence of the night, only crickets and the rustling of wind through trees serving to serenade him.

Until he heard the pitter-patter of footsteps. Light ones, and they made muted clicks against the floor below the open hatch. He recognized the sound as Mabel’s slippers. So he wasn’t surprised when he saw her head poke up to look around. Surprised that she was awake, maybe, but not surprised that it was her.

When they locked eyes for a second Ford quickly looked away, figuring that eye contact would make her come closer and knowing that he didn't want that, then opened up his beer.

Ignore it and it might go away.

Unfortunately for his me-time she did not. Instead, she climbed up herself, smiling at him as if it wasn't far past her bedtime. She didn't even look tired. A sip was taken from the brown glass bottle, he figured he would need it even more now- oh that tasted disgusting.

“Grunkle Ford!” The girl skipped up to him with practiced ease. Not a single tile shifted under her feet, which prompted him to wonder how she did it. He didn’t get the chance to ask before she flung herself beside him onto the lawn chair. It nearly tipped over with the force, causing him to flinch and shoot a subtle glare at her anything-but-subtle.. self.

She looked at him with a pair of wide, innocent eyes. “You come up here, too?” Asked Mabel with a glance down at his beer. The way her brows furrowed indicated that she knew what it was, and why he might be drinking it alone in the middle of the night. So what if he was a little stressed? “Wendy comes up here to get out of doing stuff at work..” Her eyes flicked back up to his face with the addition.

He took a drink, then got off of the chair so she could fully sit. Maybe she’d put a damper on his night but she didn’t deserve to be cramped on the edge of the chair or on the roof tiles. And maybe he didn’t want to be cramped on a chair with her. Human contact (or any contact with a living being that didn’t involve violence) had become– Was always very foreign to him. Standing with one arm folded behind his back and the other holding his bottle, he spoke.

“I did take her for the aloof type.” Like all teenagers, Wendy was uncaring and scared him with her insincere compliments and new age “computing phone”. He could name a single teenager who he wasn’t afraid of and that teenager had grown up to be a waste. “I don’t usually come up here, no, but I would before your other Uncle came along.”

The discouraged look that flashed behind her eyes wasn’t unnoticed by Ford, despite how quickly it was replaced with determination. A determination that made him nervous. “You mean Grunkle Stan.” With insistence masked by harmlessness she smiled up at him. Like the correction wasn’t at all hostile.

“..Right. Stanley,” relented Stanford before sitting on the roof tiles to be a little closer to her level. She didn’t seem satisfied by that, and gestured expectantly for him to continue. What? What else was he supposed to say? “What, what’s this?” He mimicked the movements of her hands with an arched eyebrow.

Apparently that was the wrong answer, he assumed, watching as her eyes narrowed at him. “And who is Stan?”

“..Your.. Great Uncle? We went over this seconds ago.” He’d have to run some tests later, he was concerned for her memory.

Luckily, she elaborated, “who is he to you?” Ah. She could have just said that was what she wanted. He didn’t even think about his answer before it slipped from his mouth. “My twin brother.”

“That’s right!” Mabel jumped up with a beam, yelping at the chair nearly toppling over. Acting on reflex he placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her. Once she was stable again, he moved away and resumed his original position, hands subtly and habitually hidden behind his back.

“Be careful,” he scolded, “a fall from that height is enough to break bones.” ..Said the one drinking alcohol, which stunted one’s coordination. Maybe he was being a hypocrite. Nevertheless his statement was still valid, he was much better equipped to fall off of a roof than her.

A sheepishly muttered apology from her sent a pang of.. Was that guilt? Yes, he felt guilty for scolding her. If these kids were going to be living under his roof for a while, he supposed he’d have to get used to scolding them in a way that didn’t cause fear or shame. That never worked on Stan when they were young.

It must have been why he ended up so.. Unruly, into adulthood. Because he lacked the proper discipline.

No use dwelling on it, he needed to find out what Mabel was doing up. Sleep was crucial to a growing child and by the looks of it neither of the children had been getting enough. “What are you doing awake? It’s an hour past your bedtime.”

His eyes barely caught a mischievous smirk plastered on the girl’s face before she turned her head. Then she looked back at him with that same ‘I’m an angel and would never do anything wrong!’ face, but this time with a hint of.. Sorrow?

“Grunkle Ford.. Do you ever feel, um..” The vulnerable tone she spoke in hit him right in the hardwired paternal instincts. ”Sad?” As she continued it seemed almost like another little sparkle appeared in those eyes of hers, which didn’t help

Naturally, in spite of his.. Awkwardness around children, or humans in general, he hoped to curb this sadness. What to say, though? According to his research females were at higher risk of experiencing depressive symptoms than males. With any luck this “sadness” she spoke of wouldn’t be related to that. She was getting to the age where he’d started experiencing.. Mental troubles of the like.

“Occasionally,” he decided upon answering, “but sadness is an emotion everyone exper-”

She interrupted him. “That isn’t really what I mean.” Hm. That wasn’t looking good for the depression theory. “I mean, like.. Lost? And kinda alone?”

He pretended to consider her question, though immediately knowing the answer. Did he feel lost? Yes. Give him time, he’d find himself. Did he feel alone? Yes, but it was better that way. His life was too dangerous to share with another person.

So he answered, “well, yes. But you have your brother by your side. You aren’t alone at all.” Always a confusing feeling. Loneliness despite being surrounded by people. Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to feel that now. “Have you been feeling that way?”

“I know I’ve got Dipper,” ah, so that was his name, “but do you have anyone? I heard you and Stan talking. You don’t sound really happy.” Her brows knitted together as she seemed to scrutinize his expression, an expression that had gone just as thoughtful as hers. A little offended, frankly.

This wasn’t about him. Since when was this about him?

He was perfectly happy, for her information. Dusty old college textbooks, paranormal creatures and the fungi growing in the basement that made him woozy were enough company for him.

“I have the cycloptopus, it’s..” words trailing off, he remembered that the cycloptopus wasn’t a good conversationalist and liked escaping its jar to try and eat his flesh. It was actually kind of a jerk if you asked him.

Mabel finished his sentence for him, “a weird creepy monster that doesn’t count?”A little amused grin worked its way into her features. “You need a person! Then you won’t feel alone anymore!”

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off in a reprimanding tone. “A human person. Like.. Someone you’ve known for a really long time!” She made a circular gesture with her hands, seeming to expect him to get a point she was trying to make. “Someone you’ve known since, I don’t knooooow.. The womb..?”

“I don’t follow,” admitted Ford with hunched shoulders. Since the womb.. Who had he known “since the womb”?

As it would turn out, that was not the response she was looking for, made evident by the palm she slapped to her forehead. The smile remained on her face but felt.. Customer service-like. Forced. “Someone you know really well. Or, at least, you did.. You’ve gotta know who I’m talking about.”

“I.. I really don’t, Mabe-” and then it hit him! “..You want me to reconcile with Stanley because you think I’m lonely.” That called for a nice, big drink of his beer. What a laughable request! Stan ruined his life and she wanted him to walk up to him and treat him like a person!? After he sold his soul to this “Mystery Shack” nonsense, Ford wasn’t sure if he could still call himself a person. But Mabel seemed almost excited at his correct assumption.

She chirped, “yeah! You said I have Dipper, but you don’t have anyone right now.” An empathetic gaze was directed up at him. “Wouldn’t it be a little better if you and Stan stopped being all stupid with each other?” Being called stupid hurt his (extremely) delicate ego. “..You know you’re kind of a dum-dum. And it just makes me kinda sad.” She despairingly looked at her feet.

Ooh, there were those paternal instincts again. Something about the glum look in her eyes implored him to just.. Fix it. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t annoying. With a sigh, he looked at his bottle, then poured it out over the edge. The bottle was set on the roof beside him when it was void of the bitter liquid he’d been drinking. Beer was awful, anyway.

“..Maybe I’m being a little rash, sweetie,” that slipped out, but caused Mabel’s expression to light up just a little. “Sweetie”. Ignore it. You aren’t getting attached to them, they’ll be gone in Autumn. “But you can’t expect me to just forgive Stanley.” For all he’d done? Hah! He’d have to be insane to even think about it.

She laughed softly at him, like it was silly he’d even say that. “Not yet, Grunkle Ford! I get mad at Dipper sometimes, too.” Tiny hands rose to fidget with her hair. “And it’s really hard to get over that. I think if Dipper ruined my dreams, then pushed me into some crazy-bonkers nightmare dimension I’d be mad at him for, like, a bazillion years!” Her shoulders arched in a shrug. “But we always say we’re sorry and hug it out after we’re done being big ‘ol grumps about it.”

A “big ‘ol grump”. She was calling him a “big ‘ol grump”.

“And then we’re happy again! Being all mad at Dipper is the worst, you can’t like being mad at Stan all the time.” It wasn’t something he explicitly enjoyed, no, but it was necessary.

..Send him to the Theraprism, damnit, he’d finally lost it.

Ford ran a stressed, slightly uncoordinated hand through his hair. Certainly the alcohol was influencing this, but.. “Okay, you make a good point. I admit, I’m.. Not ready to reconcile with him. But when I am, I will.” He smiled faintly at her.

“Are you sure you’re gonna?” Mabel raised an eyebrow and squinted at him. “..I’m putting on my skepticals.” Then she made circles around her eyes with her fingers. He’d be damned, they did make her seem rather skeptical.

So, he used an age-old technique that would surely convince her. “..Pinky-promise,” he crouched to her level, extending his extra finger. “This one’s a full finger more sincere.” A warm chuckle sealed the deal.

Or, well, Mabel’s giggle and pinky wrapped around his did.

“Pinky-promise.”

Ford tugged his sweater sleeves down and took a breath. It’d been four days since Weirdmageddon and one since Stan finally remembered him, finally remembered at least some of the good times and.. The worst of the bad.

Since the moment Mabel’s “scrapbook therapy” sessions began to focus on him he’d been apologizing, but they’d all been met with confusion. “Yeah, uh.. I don’t even know what you did.” Now that Stan knew who he was he figured now would be a good time to make good on that pinky-promise.

“Stanley?” He piped up, head poking into the living room. The television blared with the latest “The Duchess Approves” movie (which was probably made in the Jurassic era) and Stan was parked up on the armchair watching it.

Without even looking up, Stan greeted, “hey, Ford.” Surprisingly, the lack of attention and aloofness in his voice were comforting. He didn’t have to think about who the man in front of him was, he wasn’t tentative, he seemed to just know Ford as his brother.

The folding chair beside him attracted Stanford like a moth to a flame. He invited himself to sit on it and turned to Stan, then idly turned to watch the movie with him.

“You are insufferable, Lionel!” Boomed the Duchess, slipping the diamond wedding ring off of her finger. “If you only want me for riches I suggest you sell this.” She flicked the ring across the table without even looking up at the count’s shocked expression.

As she stood, she adjusted her hat and sharply turned to leave. “Good day.”

“But- But Duchess, you must reconsider!” Count Lionel stood to give chase–

And that was about when the movie lost his attention. It was so dry, the script must have taken ten minutes to write! He looked at Stan; completely engrossed in the crappy movie. “So..” he cleared his throat a couple of times to get his twin’s attention. When he grumpily turned to him, he spoke. “I understand that you’re very absorbed in your movie,” muttered Ford apologetically, “but I’d like to talk about the past forty-or-so years.”

“Eh.” A hand was waved at him. “After the movie.”

He didn’t think he had a choice, so he miserably looked back at the television.

The next ten minutes were painful. But, well, it was only ten minutes and he’d certainly been tortured with worse and for longer. Four days ago. His hands subconsciously moved to rub his arms at the thought. A relieved sigh escaped him as the movie finally ended, and Stan gave him his attention.

“Good movie, right?” He nudged his shoulder. “Ah, past forty years or whatever, let’s talk.” An arm was slung over the armrest, Stan making himself comfortable.

Ford gave a muttered, lied comment about the movie being “okay” and rested his hands in his lap. “I figured I should.. Give a formal apology. For..” He subtly consulted the written topic on his palm. ‘BEING MEAN AND BAD’ was written in pink gel pen by Mabel minutes before he entered the living room.

That did not help.

“..being a bad brother.” He’d been horrible, really, he was supposed to protect Stan as his older brother (every minute counts with twins) but instead he went and ruined his life. “I don’t know how I could ever make it up to you, or repay you for bringing me back, I–”

He was silenced by a barked laugh from Stanley. “Repay me? Jeez, you think I’m some kinda loan shark?” A snort slipped past his defenses with the laughter, not without a grumbled ‘ew’.

Ford, of course, figured that was exactly how it was, so he slowly nodded.

“..Moses– I don’t want shit from you. You being alive’s enough for me.” His words weren’t without a glance around to ensure that there weren’t any kids around. Then he shifted to wrap an arm around Ford’s shoulders and tug him into a little side-hug.

That was a feeling Stanford missed, so he leaned into it. He couldn’t help a mumbled protest to Stan’s acceptance, “but I ruined your life. Twice! No, three times now.” The project, the portal, and the memory erasure during Weirdmageddon. Thinking about them all in quick succession gave him a churning feeling in his stomach that he hated.

And yet, Stan shrugged it off. “And? I ruined your life too. You ask me, I should be the one sayin’ sorry.” Oh, please. Ford almost laughed at that. Giving everything he had was enough of an apology for the rest of his twin’s life. He just hoped he could share that life with him.

“No, Stanley.. I honestly feel my life’s been improved significantly. Dipper and Mabel have been delightful, not to mention you–” Once again he was rudely interrupted, this time with a rough pat on the head.

“See what I mean? I’m glad you’re here too. That’s all I want.” His eyes flicked back to the TV as the credits for some other awful period drama came on. “Ooh, this is a good one.”

As the screen slowly stole Stan’s attention from Ford, he thought about his words. Just being there? That was all Stan wanted?

..He could do that.

28 notes · View notes

where-dreamers-go · 7 months ago

Text

"Summer Dreams And Warm Emotions" Dick Grayson x Reader

(A/N: Welcome to Part 6 for the soulmate au series for 60s Robin! Just in time for the middle of summer. This goes through the pair’s summer vacation while Reader is staying at the beach outside of Gotham City. These two have a lot on their minds while away from school and each other. They’re teenagers, so I wonder what’s on their mind? Or who?

Honestly, I’ve had notes ready, but started writing after I got back into reading books for fun.

Warnings: Some angst. Reader has social anxiety? Fluff. Use of (Y/N). Using the older name of: starfish instead of sea star.(If I left it in there.) Food selection made.

Word Count: 10,127 words)

<- Previous

~~~

Salty air of an early afternoon breeze welcomed you through an open window, cleansing the bedroom you were to share with your good friend Charlotte.

What a start of summer vacation! No dark cloud in the sky nor unsavory sights in the house.

I’d prefer my bed, but this isn’t bad at all.

A long way from Gotham City, you were given clarity and space from others’ loud opinions. Even if those with the loudest preferences traveled with you; the change in scenery preoccupied their thoughts.

Two months of sand, fun, sleep, an no street lights shining in at night, you thought happily as you unpacked your plush Sir Hopps. You had debated with yourself whether or not to bring your small blue and trusted companion along for the trip. There remained a sliver of guilt at considering leaving without him.

Your plush was dear to you. Why stop bringing Sir Hopps along when you had always done so?

The strange duality of change and sameness followed you from Gotham City. An air of familiarity with a scheduled vacation carried spots of reminders of what you left behind. Who you left in the city, with scarcely a well-worded farewell, to ponder on growing relations.

It’s like nothing happened, but . . . I know who’s emotions I feel every day now.

The thoughts, knowledge of your soulmate, made you smile unabashedly. You truly happy to know him. Grateful even. Dick Grayson was a friend you held dear to your heart; a hidden gem you were surprised to find.

Parting from him still played in your mind since you left his tight embrace.

It’s almost like a strange dream. You thought, watching the palm leafs sway outside. Hopefully I won’t have to remind myself it’s real. From school days to beach days.

Stretching your limbs relieved some discomfort from the car ride. Long hours of listening to the radio and conversing excessively was finally behind you. A summer of whatever you pleased lay ahead; restricted to the beach of course. You were a teenager not a bird.

From down the hall, you heard Charlotte’s mother announce gleefully how she was to walk down the beach, eager to see it.

Pushing your luggage to the end of the bed, you quickly changed into sandals. You were not yet ready for a swim, but you definitely wanted to see how the area may have changed.

“You coming?” Charlotte appeared at the door, all ready changed into her swimwear.

“Yeah.” You snatched a hat and left Sir Hopps to test out the bed.

Outdoors, a warm summer day surrounded you. A mixture of various tree species decorated the area around the beach house. Tall grass gave way to well-worn paths; an easy marker to find a popular location.

Happily thrilled to not be at work, Charlotte’s mother led the way over a short wooden bridge. A functional decoration your guardian had made fun of in the past for its lack of grandeur.

Thankfully, for the bridge’s sake, your guardian had volunteered to sort food into the kitchen. Likely an excuse to do it themselves or make a call to reassure someone of all of your arrival. Perhaps all of the above.

Ahead of you, Charlotte gasped, “People are surfing.”

Softly shuffling through the sand, you gazed into the distance and beheld more blue water in sight than people.

“Do you see them?” Charlotte asked and hurried closer to the shoreline.

Uh, you thought as a splash caught your attention.

“Were they far left of the rocks?” You asked, unsure.

“They were right there.” She urged, stopping before she reached the wet sand.

“I’m sure there will be plenty of time to watch surfers, volleyball players, and the like. We have all summer.” Her mother pointed out with a calm air.

Charlotte does not get the majority of her personality from her mom. You smiled at the thought.

She kicked at the sand and resumed her inspection as someone paddled through the water.

Well, you thought, at least the surfer is okay. Your sandals made prints atop of the sand as you headed to the right. The tide doesn’t look high right now.

Not far from sight of your friend, you ventured to the tide pools. A decent sized area with dark rocky surfaces trapping water and hopefully home to some sea creatures. A curious and always surprising spot to visit.

Cautious near slippery rocks and unseen animals, you got a closer look. An enclosed, wondrous little world was there to greet you. Tiny fish dodge any would-be dangers and a starfish clung to the side of a rock. Natural beauty free to see.

A light breeze returned to tickle your skin with fresh air.

You smiled again. You could almost laugh with the emotions overtaking your being. All positive with feeling more free to discover, go your own pace, touch the world, make any expression, and feel alive. The vacation had it all laid out before you. Any day of the week.

A slight flip of warm emotion, familiar, made itself known in your chest.

Lifting your gaze up, you smiled towards the horizon.

I wish Dick could see this place, you thought, hoping he knew you were happy. He could even meet Charlotte. That’d be entertaining.

Your thoughts veered back to when you parted ways for the summer break. All mixed emotions and words; you kind of wished you had told Dick more.

Told him, what? You sighed.

Some emotions were nameless and descriptions proved difficult in your mind. Being young meant your future held many learning opportunities. Perhaps experiencing more would aid you in recognizing feelings.

No matter how new and complex your emotions, you knew your soulmate was on your side.

✧ ✧ ✧

Back inside the stately Wayne Manor, Dick Grayson sat on the end corner of his bed. Calm, thoughtful, and slightly restless. He couldn’t concentrate in the living room or even Bruce’s private study.

Routines remained upheld even when the young ward would rather talk to you than memorize another Latin verb.

Dick Grayson’s mind was busy. No book or old toy plane in his room could gain his attention. An unfinished puzzle sat atop of a wooden board in a corner of his bedroom, a firm reminder of who he was missing those early summer days.

The familiar warmth of your voice that made him smile, how your hand fit comfortably with his own when you needed each other, your stories that grabbed his full attention, and hugs he never wanted to end were all cherished memories while you were away on a beach vacation. Without school days, it became difficult to think of anything else with his free time besides Robin duties and a soulmate’s bond.

Too bad that storm showed up, Dick thought. I don’t know what else we would’ve talked about, but it still would’ve been nice. He glanced down at your essay beside him on his bed. I wonder if they’d be nervous if I read their essay—while they were here.

Dick smiled at the mental image of you sitting in his room while eagerly awaiting his review of your end of year paper.

Exhaling quietly, he leaned back on his hands.

No homework or studying. We didn’t get much of that. He thought back to the day you two went out for milkshakes and how he drove you both back to the manor. We had to ask Bruce what we could do. Shaking his head with a smile, he remembered his first outing with you. I don’t think I’d ever had so much fun at a baseball game. Gosh, we barely knew each other then. His face warmed at the thought. At least it’s not all work. We can even have fun in a library!

Again, Dick pictured you in his room. All curious to his belongings and keepsakes. Questions on the tip of your tongue and a thin sweater the prettiest shade of ocean blue.

But his soulmate was not there. Not even a phone call to hear your voice. No number to memorize and a call to tell you that he hoped you were having fun.

Imagining you having a bright grin at some beach, somewhere, could almost mask how much he truly missed being with you.

It didn’t always work, especially for a teenager with growing feelings for his soulmate.

What a predicament.

A sliver of cold covered his fingertips.

Being alone made Dick Grayson greatly aware of himself. His breathing and even the feel of his socks were more noticeable. It was quiet, no distractions except for his own mind. His own excited curiosity of what his soulmate could be doing and what could be.

Dick no longer had a nameless shape of a person in mind, he knew you.

They could be doing anything right now, he thought while pulling at the corner of your essay papers. Maybe not anything like singing in front of a crowd or causing trouble.

He sighed.

I could be doing something besides sitting here.

Of course there was the obvious: to read your paper.

The youth had been looking forward to reading your paper since you offered. It had sat in his bedroom for days. Yet he wondered if he should wait, to keep it for a later time; like a surprise treat from you.

He couldn’t talk to you or see you during the summer. Your essay was the closest thing to hearing from you. Waiting to read it on a day he particularly missed you could prove to be helpful in the long run.

That all left Dick with two questions:

What was he going to do the rest of the afternoon?

And, how was he going to react when he saw you after summer break?

Heck, Dick thought with a slight twist in his stomach and heat to his cheeks. I hope I don’t kiss them in front of Aunt Harriet.

✧ ✧ ✧

Dawn had long since casted its blue-pink dewey glow over the horizon and trees. The earth’s temperature rising and creatures starting their day.

Without a need to rush, you sat down at the dining table with your breakfast.

“Dolphins!” Exclaimed your guardian from the front windows.

“Where?” Charlotte’s voice traveled from one of the bathrooms.

“They’re jumping!”

You chuckled into your breakfast as the excited chatter went throughout the beach house.

Again, you had no reason to run around. You had slept in well passed mid morning and did not regret a minute. You needed sleep.

To start a day relatively slow was almost abnormal for you, a teenager with school and social responsibilities.

It’s definitely a vacation, you thought with a smirk. And no social event for miles. You sat back and stretched your legs. Miles and miles away.

No anxiety with that any time soon.

If there was one time of year both you and your guardian looked forward to it was leaving the city to enjoy a mostly quiet beach. Sure, Gotham City had a beach, but it was incredibly popular by locals and tourists alike. Vacation meant relaxing. Relaxing to its fullest meant time away from the everyday rush.

No work. No projects. Not a morning full of traffic.

“(Y/N),” your guardian walked into the room, wiping their sunglasses with a cloth. “Did you want to see the dolphins?”

“Not right now.”

“They’ll swim away.”

“It’s okay. They might make a surprise return later.” You smiled playfully. “Never know.”

“Never know,” they repeated. “Any plans today? You remembered to bring a book?”

“I did. Uh… I think I’m going to look for different animals today. Maybe even a stingray when the tide goes out later.”

“All right, but don’t get too close.”

You shook your head immediately.

No way am I touching wildlife!

Knowing you understood, your guardian grabbed their beach bag from a chair and said, “I’m going to join Lauren. If you’re the last one out, can you grab the key?”

“Will do.”

“Remember to put on the sun lotion.”

“I will.”

“And please lock the door.” They added as they neared the front door.

“Okay.” You answered. “Where’d you leave the key?”

✧ ✧ ✧

A beautiful summer morning in the Wayne Manor. Most of the occupants were sitting around the coffee table, each reading, enjoying their time.

Only Dick Grayson read from an original work by someone he knew. Handwritten with purpose and knowledge of how the papers were to be held by his hands. A copy made specifically for him.

Seven sheets of paper, handwriting on both sides, held his curiosity. Edgar Allan Poe: Dark Masterpieces, a descriptive essay written by you. A short journey of three of Poe’s works and how each made you feel.

An interesting read for someone who could sense and feel your emotions. Having words help decipher your feelings was a definite bonus.

Is the poem not suppose to be creepy? Dick wondered as he read on to another page; your descriptions of The Raven making the youth question what he thought of the famous poem.

Each paragraph drew him in. Your words annotated the poems’ stories of grief, love, and reality. The works of Evening Star and A Dream Within A Dream were new to Dick, yet the familiarity of your words helped form images with understandings wrapped within your detailed emotions written so clearly.

Learning more of you in each sentence surprised Dick.

I sure didn’t think an essay would let me know how (Y/N) thinks. What they think about these topics anyway. Dick swallowed and shifted in his seat.

The initial expectation of reading your essay was to see Poe’s work through a different lens. Your writing in front of him gave him much more and Dick wasn’t sure he had been properly prepared. Between the talks of struggling with grief, love for something warm, and how people perceive reality—Dick knew he had to sit for a good while to think everything over.

I guess everyone has some sort of painful memories and thinks deep on what life means, Dick thought with a dip of cold in his chest, even (Y/N).

Surely, there was nothing to be worried about. It was all about life, the uncomfortable parts.

The Evening Star still confuses me though. Sure it’s warmer than the moon…but… Am I missing a metaphor or something?

Running his fingers along the margins, a soft glow of warmth bloomed high in his chest. Your words on the poem made Dick wonder with a glimmer of hope. For your words were a reaction to the poem as well as a glimpse into your heart: To love someone more than another, happily and in full acknowledgment, with their bright light of being must be a great shameless joy, familiar or otherwise. Perhaps that is what people seek and imagine with thoughts of their soulmate.

The mention of soulmate—your mention—had him tucking into the couch to cover his smile and whatever happy expression he wore. No logical reason had Dick react in such a way. No other words made him feel happier amidst the essay.

What complex emotions to have for an excitable youth. What a smile to have while thinking of one of his favorite people. His soulmate was quite a person indeed.

✧ ✧ ✧

Air rushed passed your ears and soft sand kicked up behind you. Ahead lay a partially full parking lot.

“Hurry!” Charlotte panted from about three paces behind you.

“We can make it!” You pushed yourself to run faster across hot sand.

“I can’t see it!”

“Come on.”

Reaching the edge of the beach, you vaulted yourself over a short concrete wall. A burning texture rubbed onto your bare hand.

“Whoa.” Your feet hit the heated pavement of the parking lot and motivation to move��struck you. You took off towards the exit by the street in the distance where a familiar jingle rang out.

Late afternoon sun evaporated most of the standing water from the long thunderstorm that had washed the area for hours. Each step felt hotter than the last. Yet you two pushed onward.

There was a mission in place.

“I can still hear it.” Charlotte said from the other side of a truck as you two progressed. Waves of blonde hair billowed behind her.

Thank goodness, you thought, focusing on your breathing. Coins shook within the small zipper bag in your grasp.

Your feet struck the sidewalk and the path lead you closer to victory. Only half a block to go.

A familiar jingle of a song grew louder. Sunlight reflected off of its source, speakers set atop of a white ice cream truck. The brilliantly mobile store of limited frozen delights.

Sides pinching and feet burning, Charlotte and yourself made it to the end of a relatively short line for frozen sweet treats.

Less than fifteen people in total within a line at a beach was not bad at all. Unless the truck had a low supply of your favorites.

“What…was that?” Charlotte huffed, “Three blocks?”

“Felt like,” you coughed, “a little more.”

But we made it. Ha ha!

You were proud of you both. That truck could had taken off if no one eager was around. If you two had merely walked you would surely had missed the opportunity. Neither of you would had heard the song if you two weren’t outside looking at the effect the thunderstorm had on the beach.

The hard part was over and treats were hidden only about ten feet away.

Beside you, Charlotte smiled, “Are you going to tell Dick?”

Frowning with every ounce of bewilderment, you asked simply, “What?”

“About what we did.”

“Running to catch the ice cream truck?”

“No. How you leapt over the wall.” She clarified. “Didn’t you say he’s an expert in rope climbing at his school?”

“I didn’t say ‘expert’.”

“Sure.”

Her playful words held back a fraction of her underlying thoughts; how you spoke of your soulmate so graciously and complimentary.

“But he might be impressed by our athletic prowl-ness.” She nudged your arm with her right one. “He can hear how exciting you can be. You’re not all studying and books.”

You shook your head without a quick response. It never was easy to have one when a conversation came unexpectedly.

The two of you took two steps forward.

“I’m serious.” She stated more softly. “Show him how fun you can be. He knows how smart you are. From what you’ve told me Dick is one heck of an observant guy. Emotions are one thing, I know, but…”

You two shuffled closer to the truck.

“But maybe you can help him see there’s more out there than fancy dinners and school.”

You chuckled. Oh, he knows, you thought.

“And I don’t mean secretly meeting at the library.”

“Oh, no,” you laughed. “No running between shelves?”

“Not one. He’s your soulmate. Go out.”

Smile disappearing, you turned to your friend. You were met by an air of stubbornness.

“Out as friends.” You said clearly.

Charlotte gave you a hard look. “Fine.” She conceded. “We should get to meet him before you two catch feelings anyway. It’s our duty.”

“Our duty?” You repeated.

“As your friends, we hold the right, duty, and obligation to meet and give judgement to your soulmate. It’s required.”

“It’s in the friend contract?” Your smile slowly reappeared, egged on by your friend’s deep, genuine care.

“Always has been. Right after sharing fries.”

Smiles and laughter passed between you both up until you reached the open service window of the ice cream truck.

Finally.

Purchasing two treats each came easily for everyone involved. The two adults back in the beach house would surely be pleased with their surprise favorites.

After thanking the vendor, Charlotte and yourself started the walk back to the beach house.

One Fudge Stix for her and one Strawberry Shortcake for you. A sweet refresh to get you both through more walking.

Balancing a pouch of change and an Italian Ice in one hand and your treat in the other, you glanced up to the sky. Grey clouds dispersing to reveal more of the grey-blue sky.

Earlier in the day, the sky was bright as you all had gone swimming between looking for dolphins, stingray, and fish. It wasn’t until later that all of you ran indoors before a large thunderstorm reached the shoreline and drenched the area. You had spent those hours reading on the cool floor indoors.

The tile will feel real good now, you thought. I think I’ve had enough physical exercise today.

Laughing internally, you remembered a phone call you had with Dick weeks ago about running. True to your word, you ran after dessert. Perhaps not cookies in an oven, but ice cream that could had been driven away had given you a lot of motivation to move quickly.

“Sorry I bought the last Fudge Stix,” Charlotte said before taking another bite.

“It’s fine.” You managed to reply with your senses fully absorbing strawberry. “They didn’t have any cones either.”

It’s getting later, so, we’re lucky there were any left, you thought. Still bright out though. Oh! And the storm could have brought a bunch of shells and shark teeth. You passed through the emptying parking lot and considered the time. I could still look tomorrow. But I better focus on this ice cream.

You didn’t want it to drip and waste the wonderful taste. With that in mind, you still had to deliver the frozen surprises before it melted completely. An Italian Ice and an Ice Pop ready for the others.

✧ ✧ ✧

In Gotham City, among the moving traffic and popular buildings, Dick Grayson sat in the back of the car with both Bruce Wayne and his Aunt Harriet.

Conversation had settled and with the ever loyal Alfred behind the steering wheel, Dick looked out the window. The quiet and steady hum of the vehicle pushed the youth’s thoughts to be louder.

I should ask (Y/N) if they’d like to stay for dinner, Dick thought and pictured you at a table. Aunt Harriet wouldn’t say no to that. But what would we eat? I don’t know what (Y/N)’s favorite meal is. They like desserts. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t.

Streetlights casted a faint glow even as the sun continued setting. Light reflected off the city’s many windows.

Gosh, there’s still so much we don’t know about each other. Like, is there a class they don’t like? Where’s the furthest they’ve traveled? Is there an event they wouldn’t mind going to?

Sitting quietly, Dick considered the car’s current destination. Dinner, not a special occasion or celebration.

That could be an option, he thought, all of us out to dinner. One day.

The youth’s stomach growled.

At least he didn’t have to wait until that one day to eat.

✧ ✧ ✧

A light breeze came in from the beach, an added ingredient to relaxation with the slow sway of the couch swing.

You could fall asleep that way. Still digesting dinner, relaxing beside Charlotte, and enjoying the view. After another day of fun, it was nice. What vacation should feel like.

The horizon spill further into blues as the golden hues disappeared. Each sunset later than the last. Days grew longer as night shortened in the summer. Vacation, like most days, seemed to speed by more every year. So finding space to sit and absorb the moment as it happened was precious. Even more so when you were able to share it with a friend.

Charlotte was someone you had known prior to becoming a teenager. Ever since you two had sat next to one another in a science class, you had been as close as Chip and Dale.

Students who struggle to read a teacher’s handwriting stick together. That was the shared motto for a couple of years.

As of late, the motto was: sleep is gold.

And goodness was it ever! Maybe even better than gold. Sleep was definitely needed and, to you, preferable.

I feel like I can do much more during the day now, you thought. Almost forgot what it felt like to not be busy and tired. Thank goodness for breaks. Thank goodness for a bed!

You smiled to yourself.

Still using her leg to softly move the couch swing, Charlotte inquired in a hushed voice, “How did you know for certain—absolutely—that Dick Grayson was your soulmate? Minus anyone telling you?” Her gaze was fixed on the sunset.

“Umm. Beside a gut feeling…I guess it was between reactions that couldn’t be coincidence and kind of just knowing.”

“Just knowing?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Like how you know you like something or know you’re in the right place. It’s weird, I guess, but not any weirder than feeling someone else’s emotions.”

“Would it be strange if someone only felt their own emotions?”

“I don’t think so. Some people—”

“Elliot.”

“—can’t tell what most emotions are anyway.” You turned to look at your friend. “Did he say something?”

Charlotte shook her head. “Not to me. Lucy said he was borrowing one of her psychology books.”

A reactive frown formed on your face.

“I know,” she replied. “Not mathematics or architecture? Who knows, maybe you and Dick Grayson got him thinking.”

“Maybe.”

Both of you silently considered the possibility of your mutual friend’s new interest.

It would be neat if Elliot did research soulmates in any capacity, you thought. We could all learn something new.

✧ ✧ ✧

A summer night in the quiet, stately Wayne Manor and all was peaceful.

The Batcave remained dark and the manor’s lights were off. Everything was still.

Young Dick Grayson laid in his bed, awake and thinking of anything but sleep. Preoccupied by events that did and did not happen.

Earlier in the night before his drink of warm milk, as his aunt encouraged, and dental routine, the household had been stargazing. Bruce’s telescope had much use.

Out there, he found himself really wishing you were with him. Between listening to Bruce and gazing at the celestial bodies, Dick imagined what you’d say and do. He pictured you staying warm by his side. Just being happy. Two of you together and studying the night sky.

Dick Grayson smiled and rolled to his side. What a day, he thought. His mind was occupied by curious thoughts once more. From what the night could had looked like to next call on the Batphone to what his soulmate could be doing.

(Y/N) is probably asleep all ready. He tucked his hands underneath his pillow. The soulmate bond within him felt calm from your side.

It was odd for Dick to fully comprehend the situation alongside his feelings. He knew where you were and that you were fine. Yet, unfortunately for him, he wouldn’t hear from you. Not too unlike when you were punished unfairly for not attending a lunch. Even so, it would be the longest without hearing from you by far.

But they’re more than okay. They’re happy and haven’t been nervous at all. Not that I’ve noticed.

His smile grew picturing you at a beach house your guardian described to his Aunt Harriet. Perhaps you had also looked up into the starry night. Maybe you thought of him while taking a walk along the sand. Perhaps late at night you wondered if he read your essay or if he traveled to Gotham’s beach.

Does (Y/N) think of me often?

Inside, Dick felt sparks of delight in his chest.

Dick’s imagination surged on.

A warm, blue sky afternoon set the scene.

Dick, dressed in his swim trunks and shirt, crept across the white beach towards you. Your attention held by flying seagulls.

“Enjoying the view?” Dick asked with a growing smirk.

You pivoted on the sand with wide eyes and a beaming grin.

Like magnets, you two were instantly embracing and holding on for the longest time.

“You’re here!” You exclaimed, pulling away slightly. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” Then with a small laugh, he asked, “Are you all right?”

The two of you shared a joyous laugh.

Your eyes quickly downcast as you without a doubt sensed his many feelings for you.

Would you be able to decipher them all?

Images slowed and Dick’s imagination ran off the sleepier he became.

Contently, you held his right hand.

Your lips pressed against his cheek. You kissed his other cheek.

Once more you kissed his face and whispered his name.

Fading images dispersed completely as Dick fell asleep with a faint smile on his face.

✧ ✧ ✧

Morning in the Wayne Manor brought warm sunlight into the rooms of the stately home. Birds chirped outdoors and the appearance of the sky hinted at a beautiful summer day.

Dick Grayson surely saw it as one.

The youthful ward had a bounce in his step since hopping out of bed. His mood was not unusual and therefore not questioned.

Hopefully not, Dick thought from his seat in Bruce’s private study. His mind replayed his dream again as he flipped pages in his Latin binder.

The familiar and partially restricted study of the millionaire Bruce Wayne should had been empty. A person who should not know the location of the Batcave should not be near its entrance.

You and Dick had been in there at night instead of keeping Aunt Harriet company.

Trying to keep quiet was difficult when books and papers were everywhere. He didn’t know why. Searching through the mess, Dick tried finding your essay to show you he still had it, that he read it.

It wasn’t until you walked passed him, did he realize you two shouldn’t be in there without Bruce.

Well, he could be.

Forgetting his first intentions, Dick grabbed your hand and held on tightly. He tried to pull you closer.

You were not to be there. Too close to the bust on the desk.

The thought of you in there, close to his secret, was alarming. He was thankful that part was a dream.

The dream version of you was much too interested in the bust for Dick’s liking.

Dick tried steering you away.

Until you turned and your open palm rested on his chest. His anxiousness forgotten. He found himself running his free hand up and down your arm slowly.

Dick sighed into the open binder.

The dream had ended before he could press his lips to your cheek.

I’m surprised I haven’t dreamed of them much before, Dick thought.

“Dick?” Bruce Wayne’s voice broke through his ward’s inner most thoughts.

“What is it, Bruce?”

“I had asked you a question about the current Latin verbs you have been studying.” Bruce eyed him thoughtfully.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Bruce. I was…remembering something.”

“Perhaps you’re distracted by romantic thoughts.”

Dick didn’t reply. Blue eyes downcast to his notes as his cheeks warmed.

Beep Beep

A call on the Batphone!

I have to really focus today, he thought as he rushed to Bruce’s side. I can’t let Bruce down.

✧ ✧ ✧

Summer vacation at the beach continued on. Hot days and warm night for you.

Cool air of the bathroom was something to hang on to before heading into the morning light.

Changing into your swim attire, you had a short time to yourself and a sense of peace while everyone had their own schedule. No work or school. Time for your thoughts to wander

Even miles away and days a part, you too had a dream featuring your soulmate.

Your first?

In complete privacy, you smiled.

The dream had been short, but delightfully cute.

You had been sitting on the ottoman in the Wayne Manor and looking through an encyclopedia when Dick sat behind you. Resting his chin on your right shoulder, he asked if you’d wanted to go somewhere.

After pondering over the sweetness of the dream, you couldn’t remember where he said.

But that doesn’t really matter. It was a dream. I don’t need to go anywhere, you thought. But it was cute. Peaceful. Better than those school nightmares.

Better indeed.

After sorting your belongings in your side of the room and leaving Sir Hopps to guard the room, you headed out to the water with Charlotte.

“OH. It’s always so cold,” Charlotte exclaimed as she stepped ankle-deep into the water.

“Better than it being hot. Just go and we’ll get used to it.” You shuffled further into the small waves faster.

“We did that yesterday and you fell in.”

“I was fine.” You turned your head to look at her only a moment before rushing passed the breaking waves.

“Good! I might still look into being First Aid certified.”

“Good.” You were far enough out to float comfortably. “Then Willa won’t think it’s strange for me to carry around bandages.”

“It’s a little strange,” she said as she soon joined you, “but only because we’ve needed them. That’s why I didn’t pack any.”

You laughed.

She’s never packed bandages!

“Watch out,” Charlotte started with a smirk, “I’ll tell Grayson about your bag of bandages.”

You laughed harder.

“And when I see him, I’ll tell him how you love The Monkees.”

“Oh, no,” you giggled, unafraid.

Floating about in the undulating water, your laughter settled as Charlotte started humming a theme song.

Between listening to the sound of the waves, your friends’s humming, and the breeze, you were being lulled into relaxation. Nothing too loud to disturb you.

The world around you appeared calm.

Waves carried you and your hidden worries away.

You closed your eyes, fingers skimming the water. Smooth. It reminded you of how dream you had fixed your soulmate’s hair after he approached you with such gentleness.

“Now, I have to ask…,” Charlotte treaded water closer to you. “What’s Dick Grayson like as a soulmate?”

“A person?” You looked over at her and caught her playful expression. “He’s a good friend. I’ve told you that before.”

“I saw that little smile. You thinking about him?”

“I think of other things.” You defended.

“Except about thirty seconds ago.”

You flicked water at her.

“That’s true, but that wasn’t your thinking-of-cute-animals smile.”

“… That raises questions.” You blinked at her. “But…um… What was I even going to ask?”

Looking around, your gaze surveyed the beach line.

Goodness, what’s it with her questions? Dick’s personality, soulmates, and repeating questions—

“Why is it that you want me to admit feelings for him?”

Charlotte no doubt knew which him.

“Because you’ve been getting defensive lately.”

“It’s like you’re asking the same questions. You, Lucy, Nathaniel… You’ll meet Dick eventually, yah know.”

Quiet settled between you both. Two pairs of eyes staring at the other.

This really is about if I have a crush on Dick or not, you thought sourly. Exhaling slowly, you swam a little closer to shore and glanced at the puffy clouds. I don’t think I’m ready to fully answer that question.

✧ ✧ ✧

One beautiful Wednesday morning in Gotham City, curious shoppers roamed a hat salon.

Harriet Cooper stood thoughtfully as an employee displayed a new decorative hat.

“Oh, I just don’t know.” Aunt Harriet said as she checked herself wearing the hat in a small mirror.

“I believe the blue one had suited you better,” said Bruce kindly.

Aunt Harriet considered it silently.

All the while the employee excused themselves to fetch the other hat again.

The hats are all so different, thought Dick. I don’t see how she can pick one.

Standing quietly and patiently, Dick Grayson viewed the salon as decently busy.

Suddenly, a teenager no older than him walked up to him with a smile.

“Hi,” said the teenage boy with light brown hair and a bright shirt. “Dick Grayson, right?”

“I am.”

Who is he? Dick thought as he held out his hand.

“I’m Nathaniel. (Y/N)’s friend.”

Surprise and delight came from hearing a familiar name.

Holy coincidence.

“Hi. How are you?”

The two shook hands enthusiastically.

“Fine.” Nathaniel answered. “It’s good to put a face to the name in person. (Y/N) has spoken highly of you.”

“Oh.” Dick smiled. “Likewise. (Y/N) has said how you want to be a movie director.”

He laughed, “Or critic, whichever gets me closer to watching more movies and how they’re made.”

Dick found his soulmate’s friend easy to talk to. He definitely didn’t expect to cross paths with one of your friends by chance.

A hand touched his shoulder. Bruce Wayne.

“Aunt Harriet, Bruce,” said Dick, “this is Nathaniel. One of (Y/N)’s friends from school.”

“It is so good to meet you.” Aunt Harriet smiled sweetly and genuinely.

“Likewise ma’am.”

Stepping forward, Bruce shook hands briefly with your friend and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Nathaniel. May I ask which movies you’re interested in?”

“Yes, sir.” He nodded. “Mainly documentaries, mysteries, and historical fiction. Anything that has the audience thinking during the film and after.” Nathaniel glanced over to another part of the store for a second then said to Dick, “You’re welcome to join our group to the movies. We usually go watch something before the start of school. Catch up and all.”

“That’d be fun. Thank you.” Dick grinned.

“We’ll both have to tell (Y/N) I invited you.”

“Right.”

He looked to the side again and gestured with a hand. “I’m picking out a hat for my mom. Her birthday’s soon and I have to hide it.” Nathaniel chuckled. “It was nice meeting each of you.”

“You too.”

With a nod, your friend walked back to another smiling employee.

“What a sweet young man,” Aunt Harriet stated.

Before anyone could reply, the well-dressed employee took their chance to step in with a blue hat from earlier.

The movies. Dick thought with growing excitement. Would all of their friends be there? And—GOSH—I didn’t expect to meet (Y/N)’s friends soon. Well…one of them right now. He rubbed his hands together. (Y/N) and I really should talk about it. They are (Y/N)’s friends after all.

A swirling feeling in his gut continued as he considered a future meeting with your friends.

✧ ✧ ✧

“There’s sand here too.” Charlotte pointed to the edge of the hallway.

“Didn’t we just sweep?” You asked, tip-toeing around the small sandy path and entering the bedroom.

“Yes, but you’ve seen my shoes. It’ll be weeks before I get all the sand out of them to—I swear he didn’t have that book before.”

Huh?

You glanced over to see Charlotte pointing at Sir Hopps. Your small blue plush bunny had the Prince Caspian book beside him.

Smiling and heading to your luggage, you decided not to reply.

Charlotte gathered a set of fresh clothes and headed out to the bathroom down the hall.

I can do it now, you thought.

Slipping out a bright, loose leaf paper as quietly as you could, you settled yourself on the floor between the wall and your bed. Time to yourself. A quiet secluded spot to attempt working through developing thoughts and feelings.

You twirled a pen between your fingers.

Being more around Charlotte and talking a little about your soulmate made you wonder a few things. All right, a lot of things were on your mind and thankfully writing them out helped you at least keep track of where your thoughts were headed.

Crush or no crush, he’s my friend. Just a little different. You thought as you scribbled down a question.

What made Dick Grayson different than your other friends?

An important question to revisit.

Sure, you could sense each other’s emotions, but you knew your friends well enough to know how they felt most times. Observation and all. Maybe it was his large capacity for empathy.

He cares so much! Even for those he would never know. And helpful. You thought briefly of his secret life. Kind of almost unbelievable at this point. It’s a lot to comprehend and I don’t think he’ll ever bring it up.

It was probably for the best.

All of that in his heart and weight on Dick’s shoulders. You admired that about him. He acted out of selfless compassion.

He’s always working on improving. At this point, I really don’t think he goes to spend time with his own friends at school. You couldn’t help but to frown a bit at that. Robin duties?

Exhaling, you focused on your emotions. Nothing too out there. Thinking of your soulmate as also being Robin the Boy Wonder felt like a fictional story. That’s as comfortable as you could get with the fact.

None of my other friends have drastically different activities in school versus at home. Not that I know of.

You elected not to write down any secrets that were not our own. Just in case.

Even with your private writings, you would not risk it. Not him, you could not handle ruining a part of Dick’s life. You would never dare to even leave a mark.

People need him. And Dick always puts others first. Heck, he helped me before we officially met! You thought, leaning back against the bed. We know each other now. Mostly study habits and little things like after school activities.

But you wanted to know more. There was nothing odd about wanting to share more interests with Dick. Nothing strange about hugging your soulmate more than friends you’ve had for years.

Being soulmates is…like being connected more. A quick glance out the window and the trees looked to be swaying slowly. Another calm summer day. Just a couple of weeks left of vacation.

Once you were back home in Gotham City, you weren’t sure what you and Dick would be up to later in the year. A new school year and holiday seasons were on their way.

“Oh,” you said quietly. Pen and paper set aside.

Would we be together during certain holidays? Or are we not close enough for that? I’m not sure how this works. My guardian might like it. Charlotte and Willa have come over during winter break once. We exchange gifts—OH!

Snatching up the pen, you wrote quickly: When is Dick Grayson’s birthday?

I don’t think I’ve missed it. I hope I didn’t. Aunt Harriet would’ve said something. What would I even get him? You were mentally drawing a blank. I have time. Hopefully. I guess I’ll have to ask. If I can hold his hand in public, I can ask him when his birthday is. No big deal.

Despite your thoughts, your stomach still fluttered.

A small worry about finding a perfect birthday gift couldn’t be all bad. You wanted to get him something he’d like; of course. Something that’d make him happy. To smile.

For Dick to smile like when you slid into Aunt Harriet’s car. To see him grin as that time you made a silly face. Or even the joy he had shared while you told a story side by side at a baseball game.

Your mind flickered back to the car ride back home when his knuckles went from red to white and his eyebrows knitted together.

You swallowed as a heaviness settled over your heart.

He really didn’t want me to go yet, did he?

Memories of resting your head against his and trying to keep emotions in check for both your sakes could almost be felt. Reliving it tightened your throat.

I guess I mean a lot to him.

It was hardly a guess. Caring and respecting the other was mutual. To holding hands tightly to holding discreetly, there was something left unsaid. A warmth you were growing familiar with.

Dick acted upon it more.

You weren’t sure how to react or view your surprise to Dick’s kiss on your cheek and his sweet smile. It was different. New from him.

How it was specifically different and why?

You had no idea where to start. But the heat that rose to your neck and fluttering in your chest hinted at something still developing under each smile. Would you write that down too?

✧ ✧ ✧

Back in the stately Wayne Manor, Dick Grayson sat in the living room with a binder of Latin on his lap.

Sights on paper and mind busying itself with internal images, Dick might as well set his studying aside for the day. He had been brushing up on a few words. Honest, he was.

Until one word switched his train of thoughts and he was able to remember more of another dream he had of his soulmate.

A less frantic dream. One where he was attempting to take you to his room, to show you, but Dick had trouble finding the right door. Confusing as it was, he mainly held your hand to make sure you were still there. Dick didn’t want to lose you, even in the manor. Throughout it all, dream-you kept reassuring him everything was fine.

A light comforting warmth settled in his chest. To his annoyance, the fumbling feeling of embarrassment joined in.

I must think of (Y/N) so much that I’m dreaming about them. Dick figured that was far better than any bad dream about large clams, forgetting homework, or being trapped.

Fingers clenching and relaxing alternately, Dick didn’t bother looking at his notes anymore.

“Is everything all right, Dick?” Bruce asked as he set down a textbook.

The youth sighed, “I guess.”

“You guess?”

“It’s… I was thinking about (Y/N)—I was studying, I promise,” he reassured Bruce. “This sounds ridiculous, but I was thinking of how I think of (Y/N). Well, how often. Some times it feels like a lot.”

“It’s normal to think of others, but you have to be mindful not to let your romantic imagination distract you.”

Dick nodded solemnly.

“You’re soulmates and you each have responsibilities.”

“I know, but we don’t have any examples of people like us together.” Dick spoke more passionately. “No one to look to. Heck, I never thought much of it when I was a little kid. Now… Well some times I barely notice their emotions and other times…”

“It’s overwhelming.”

“Yeah and I think when we’re together it’s easier to feel or it’s more noticeable. I dunno.” He shook his head and leaned further into the couch. “What are soulmates supposed to do?”

“Be authentic to yourselves.”

“But why do we feel each other’s emotions? Is there a reason? We can help each other, in our own ways.” Dick exhaled and lightly hit the armrest. “But I’ve worried about them too with nothing I can do.”

Bruce was quiet for a moment, contemplating.

Dick Grayson didn’t know what else to say. Too many questions repeating in his mind. A sharp contrast to the silence of the room.

“(Y/N) and yourself have an opportunity to learn what many of us can only theorize or hope to experience. The two of you will be future examples for soulmates who find one another.”

Mixed emotions in the youth settled as an understanding was accepted.

Blue eyes looked to Bruce.

“I still wish there was a book about soulmates.”

Bruce chuckled, “There are, but I’m afraid they won’t answer your specific questions.”

“Darn it.”

Bruce rose an eyebrow and added, “You could write a book yourself.”

And write what?

✧ ✧ ✧

Waves were perfect and picturesque. Rolling onto the shore in a soothing rhythm.

The ideal sounds to listen to as opposed to Charlotte and her older cousin talking to some boys with surfboards.

You weren’t quite in the mood to socialize a great deal with strangers. Added the your friend’s eagerness seemed almost forced. So, instead, you took to walking the shoreline barefoot.

Smiling, you watched as the water slowly moved in to tickle your feet. In another second or two, the sand beneath you softened.

I could easily sink into the sand, you thought. Like a little crab. Minus the claws.

You glanced further up the beach to where your guardian and Charlotte’s mom Lauren sat under an umbrella. No doubt they were still switching stations on the portable radio. The pair had been having just as much fun as you and Charlotte.

Thankfully it was that sort of vacation and not a stressful schedule filled one. At least it wasn’t boring either.

Dick would’ve loved seeing all the birds yesterday. Probably would’ve debated whether or not one was a flamingo… Charlotte thought it might’ve been a crane.

Laughter caught your attention. A sudden mixture voiced by the small group that included your friend down the beach. They all seemed friendly together.

A faint coolness filled your stomach and limbs.

Should you had joined them? You weren’t about to ask your guardian that.

Dick would talk with them.

You sighed.

Oh, well, you thought and continued your walk. I don’t want to intrude on their surfing anyway. The waves are —

A large jolt of surprise hit you like a wall. You barely got a breath in before waves of panic and worry also flooded through your soulmate bond.

Your own spiky anxiety surfaced.

Looking around you quickly, you shuffled across the sand away from the water. You needed to be alone. Out of direct sight from others.

There was a soft thump as you sat upon dry sand. Distanced enough from others, you were a little more free to focus on your breathing than worry about keeping a neutral expression.

You could keep calm for your soulmate. You knew that. It had been done before.

Images in your mind filled with red, green, and yellow of a familiar suit.

You can do this, you thought, but not solely for yourself.

On the beach, unbothered by anyone, you sat for some time thinking of happier thoughts.

Sitting side by side with a smiling Dick Grayson, close and secure. Both of you holding hands while birds flew by.

He’ll be okay. You told yourself repetitively. He’ll be okay.

✧ ✧ ✧

Late evening, back and safe in the Batcave, the caped crusaders exited the Batmobile. Both were relieved to have escaped and foiled Egghead’s plans.

Stretching his arms, Robin announced tiredly, “Boy, did I work up an appetite.”

“I’m sure Aunt Harriet will have a nutritious meal ready.”

“Mmm.”

Robin had no idea which dinner was to be shared up in the manor, but he knew without a doubt he’d clear his plate. Or bowl, depending on the meal.

After sorting everything in the Batcave, lights off and put away, the duo went up the Batpoles.

A long day of crime fighting left Dick Grayson in need of rest too. Not just food was on his mind.

All right, the teenager was thinking of his soulmate again.

Could you blame the excitable youth?

It wasn’t as if he was the only one.

“Gracious me,” said Aunt Harriet at the dining table, “today must have been the warmest yet. I could hardly stay in the garden to tend to the flowers.”

“Yeah. The sun was hot enough to fry an egg.�� Dick announced over a plate. “Or the hair off my head.”

“What?”

His aunt’s perplexed expression made Dick realize his slight slip in words.

“Oh. Well we could all imagine the great temperatures at a desert in Arizona or the beaches in Florida.” Bruce Wayne changed the direction of the conversation.

“Oh. A trip to the beach would have been so refreshing today. Too bad you boys had to attend that meeting.”

“Our responsibilities do come first.”

“Well,” she tilted her head in thought with a soft smile, “I am glad that (Y/N) at least gets to enjoy the sun properly. Oh, but imagine the sunsets they’ve seen on the beach. The sound of the waves.”

Does (Y/N) watch sunsets? Dick wondered to himself.

“I’m sure (Y/N) has many opportunities,” Bruce said before looking to his young ward. “It’s nearly the end of July.”

The youth’s eyes widened and he exclaimed, “Holy time clock. (Y/N) could be back next week.”

“Or earlier.”

For Dick Grayson, both excited and eager, counting down the days until your return started then at dinner. The mere mention of the end of your beach vacation gave him hope for a summer together. Even a short one.

Summer holiday from school appeared long on a calendar, but days went by fast enough. Some times in a blur of other events.

Days without hearing from you and seeing you gave an eerie sense that Dick made everything up in his mind. Everything was as it had been.

But he knew that wasn’t the case; you were real. You were his friend and Dick cared about you deeply. He had protected you from Penguin’s goons before he knew your name! He had held your hand to reassure you everything would be fine on numerous occasions. Dick had helped sneak you out of a library. Overwhelmed, he had kissed your cheek. And he missed you.

Dick wanted to hear you laugh again and sit so close to you that he would surely be scolded by his aunt.

They could be back in Gotham any day. Dick thought joyfully and ate the rest of his dinner in gusto.

✧ ✧ ✧

I forgot how loud my family can be, you thought as you walked down to the beach.

Later into the morning, Charlotte and yourself found yourselves listening to all sorts of gossip from your two cousins. The pair had managed to drive out to the beach to stay the night.

The beach house was more crowded and filled with laughter than ever. Hugs had been shared most of the morning.

You hadn’t seen your two cousins in months; around the last birthday of an older relation.

A day of relatives roaming the rented home. You and Charlotte were thankful her older cousin had gone days prior for the sake of sleeping arrangements.

“I couldn’t sleep hearing those trees move at night,” exclaimed your tallest cousin in blue. “Doesn’t it sound like an animal?”

“We’re sleeping,” replied Charlotte. “How should we know?”

Smiling, the four of you crossed the wooden bridge in no time.

“The beach is much quieter than a big city like Gotham, I’m sure.” Said your second cousin, wearing one of the biggest hats you had ever seen.

“It’s different noises.” You shrugged.

Pulling briefly on their blue shirt, your cousin looked over their shoulder.

No adult guardians in sight.

Your shoulders tensed, knowing general conversations were off the table.

“All right,” they said grinning. “We’ve been dying to ask for weeks. Did you really find your soulmate!”

Two sets of eyes tried boring into your soul with their intensity. Waiting for your answer wasn’t something they could handle for long.

“Yeah.” You answered as simply as possible. Letting a small smile form wasn’t the end of the world.

“And you just ran into each other?”

“Not literally…”

“But you knew somehow?” Asked your cousin who adjusted their hat.

“It was kind of weird, but yeah.”

“Wow, (Y/N) has a millionaire as a soulmate. What are the odds?”

You frowned.

Meanwhile, Charlotte bursted out laughing. Her hand holding onto your shoulder for balance.

Dick…a millionaire? Well some information didn’t travel to everyone.

“Someone said he was.”

“He’s a ward to the millionaire Bruce Wayne,” you clarified.

“Your guardian must love that.”

You held in a reply.

Abruptly ending her laughter, Charlotte replied firmly, “At least (Y/N) won’t be completely bored when going to the higher social events in Gotham City. They have their soulmate now too.”

Yeah, you agreed silently.

Over the sandy beach, the four of you stood in an odd circle. Grouped together, but not on the same page.

The tallest of your cousins squinted at you and asked, “You’re not left alone with him, are you?”

“What? No…” You glanced between your family, attempting to get a read on their emotions.

Why would they ask that? You wondered, Dick’s my friend.

“That’s good.” They nodded, satisfied.

“But… Why did you ask that? We’re not dropped off in the woods alone or anything.”

“You’re both teenagers.”

“So? We’re friends not complete strangers.”

“Still.”

If you were confused before, you were bewildered and lost right then.

“He’s nice and a caring person,” you insisted.

Your cousins regarded each other silently.

Teenagers. Alone? Are they serious right now?

Heat radiated from your jaw and chest as it quickly expanded over your fists.

Voice seconds from cracking, you declared, “He’s not a bad person and just because we’re soulmates doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

“We didn’t say that.” The cousin holding their hat said immediately.

Charlotte stepped forward, alarmingly calm. “He’s a millionaire’s ward who spends most of his time learning random things like Latin and world geography. (Y/N) and Dick put school before anything else. They’re the perfect study partners. Someone would have to kick them and give an hour lecture before those two would even consider going for a drive alone.”

Again, your cousins exchanged looks.

You felt no closer to knowing what was going on in their brains. Yet you were grateful for Charlotte’s help.

Your increasing heart beat didn’t help your train of thought.

“Wait. You’re not secretly dating him? Your soulmate.”

“No.” You gestured widely and asked sharply, “Why is that the first thing people go to? There are other things. Like…just living more comfortably with someone who actually knows how you feel. Someone to be honest with, without pressure of trying to figure out if you unintentionally made someone mad or if they had a bad day.” Chest heaving, your words stopped.

“Sorry.”

And just like that the conversation was dropped.

You were relieved it was over. Questions and assumptions could go so far before they hit a nerve.

A walk around the beach soon ended as well. The group of teenagers headed back indoors to take a break from sunlight and awkward chatter.

Door partially shut, you sat beside Sir Hopps on the edge of the bed. From there you could hear the others singing along to an Elvis movie.

You weren’t in the mood. Earlier you would had been, but not after the short interrogation from your cousins. A sour turn on the day.

Again, you had turned to writing. Your notes formatted into a letter for Dick Grayson full of details you wanted to tell him. Even with the letters addressed to your soulmate, you were the only one who knew of the letters’ existence. For that, you were satisfied. This one would join the others hidden in your bedroom back home.

Writing letters helped sort some thoughts. Your cousins’ choice of words among them. It annoyingly repeated in your mind.

You figured there were an amount of people, you didn’t know how many, who thought soulmates were immediately romantic.

How fast did people want to go? You shouldn’t force anything. You frowned while glancing at the wall. Is that why people really talked about me and Dick more? Because we’re young? Because teenagers are known for sports, school, loud music, and late night dates?

If you were home, you would had resulted in screaming into your pillow as a last resort to get out the day’s frustrations.

Okay. Breathe, you thought. Uncomfortable heat had already returned to your hands. It’s just odd. That’s all. People are just being weird for thinking two people who know nothing of one another should run off to an empty room and kiss. This isn’t a movie!

You blinked and twirled the pen around.

What movies have they been watching? You weren’t quite sure you actually wanted to know.

Squeals came form the living room. Happy movie watchers.

Mind trained on calming yourself, you thought, a soulmate is a stranger when first meeting and only then an acquaintance after that. A trusted acquaintance hopefully for most. Emotions give everything away. Unless someone can’t tell the difference between them all, I guess.

Logical words for a rightly emotional teenager. Much was already on your shoulders.

Being a teenager came with many changes, challenges, and lessons. Navigating what people thought about you and your soulmate added questions to your still developing mind. Doubts was something you didn’t want.

Some times it was too much. People’s opinions and unsolicited advice were striking even if they were spoken evenly.

Must it always be what others think? You wondered as you folded the paper into your luggage. They’re not me and they don’t know Dick. Some don’t know their soulmate. You glanced over to Sir Hopps, quiet and reserved. Why do they speak the loudest about us and how we should be? Always other people…

You placed your hand over your heart. A steady rhythm felt under your open palm.

What does being soulmates mean to me?

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~

Part 7 -> "

---

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#dick grayson x reader #soulmate au #60s robin #dick grayson #where dreamers go #dick grayson x reader soulmate au series #batman 1966 #60s dick grayson #these two are dreaming about each other now #they just want some peace and quiet

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hisui-dreamer · 2 years ago

Text

the edge of adventure

Pairing: Jade Leech x gn!reader

Synopsis: Hiking can be thrilling, but even more so when a certain eel is with you.

Tags: hiking, fluff, slight banter, reader has hair, bot proofread

Word count: 1k+

Notes: i went hiking on a trip by the seaside and of course, hiking reminds me of this slippery eel<3

Masterlist

As you approached the trailhead, the warm, golden light of the sun spilt over the landscape, casting the rolling hills and jagged cliffs in a soft glow. Jade was in his element, practically gleaming with excitement as he led you up the treacherous path.

He had invited you on this outing a few days ago, his voice infused with a bubbling enthusiasm that was so rare for him as he enthralled you with vivid descriptions of the rugged sea cliffs and the undulating hills, promising magnificent sights that would leave you spellbound. His words painted a picture of a spectacular adventure that would take you into uncharted territory. Having been rather exhausted by your errands at school and in need of a break, the thought of immersing yourself in nature was a balm to your frazzled nerves. The lure of the great outdoors, with its stunning vistas and vibrant colours, was too hard to resist. What better way to lift your spirits than the dazzling sky?

His tall, lean figure strode confidently ahead of you, a backpack slung over his broad shoulders. Every so often, he would glance back at you with an encouraging smile, lending you a hand where the steps were unsteady and slippery. You could tell he was elated to explore the rocky landscape and discover new wonders, his gaze scanning the rocks and cliffs with a childlike curiosity.

The salty air filled your lungs as you neared the top of the cliff, and the sound of crashing waves grew louder and more insistent, beckoning you closer to the cliff's edge. Jade's eyes lit up as he spotted an interesting patch of mushrooms growing by a tree, and he eagerly took out his camera to snap a few photos, before carefully harvesting the fungi.

Meanwhile, you were transfixed, gazing out at the endless expanse of cerulean sky and sparkling ocean. The sea cliff was a towering behemoth, standing high above the tumultuous waters below. The waves were a symphony of power and violence, rising up in towering peaks, their foamy white caps akin to glaciers reaching for the sky before crashing down onto the rocks below with incredible force. A frothy contrast to the cliff's rough and jagged surface, the sea foam clung to the rocks like delicate lace. It appeared as though nature had woven an intricate tapestry onto the jagged rocks, smoothing their sharp edges.

As you stood on the edge of the sea cliff, the raw power of the waves crashing against the rocks below filled your senses with a thrilling sense of danger and excitement. The wind whipped at your hair and clothes, as if taunting you to take one step too far.

"Are you sure you should leave your back open like that?" His words broke through your trance. "Someone cruel might just push you, you know." You turned around to see his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes glinting with a mix of playfulness and sadistic glee.

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, his teasing only adding to the thrill of the moment, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. "Haha, you wouldn’t do that," you chuckled, calling his bluff.

His eyes widened in surprise before a wry smile spread across his face, revealing his sharp teeth that twinkled in the sunlight. "My, what confidence you have in me, dearest," he said, his words laced with a mix of amusement and challenge.

"I trust you," you said, your voice firm and steady. "And besides…" You took his hand and pressed it to your chest, feeling your heart beating strong and steady. "Even if you did, I'd just come back and haunt you. There's no way you're getting rid of me that easily!"

You tugged on his arm playfully, the force pushing you back a step. "Go on, I'd like to see you try," you said cheekily.

As the wind continued to whip around you, Jade's teasing demeanour suddenly melted away, replaced by profound affection.

He let out a soft sigh as he enveloped you in his embrace, his arms like a fortress around you, providing a sense of safety and protection. As he held you close, you could feel the steady thud of his heart against your chest, a rhythmic beat like the tide of the ocean.

"Mmm, my dear pearl," he murmured, his voice a smooth caress of love. "You truly are so endearing."

With those words, you felt a warm and comforting sensation spread through your chest, a strong sense of love and belonging that made your heart sing.

You leaned into Jade's touch, resting your head against his chest and breathing in his musky scent mixed with the freshness of the sea. As you closed your eyes, you felt his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back, a tender and soothing gesture that made you feel safe and loved.

With a gentle but firm movement, you pulled out of his embrace, your hands still clasped tightly together as you looked up at him with a bright and eager smile.

"Come on, Jade," you said enthusiastically. "We've still got so much more to see! The day is just getting started."

As you spoke, you noticed a fleeting hesitation in Jade's gaze, his eyes reflecting a reluctance to leave the comfort of your arms. You reached for his hand, fingers entwining with his, his gloves a barrier against the chill of the morning air, and tugged him forward, urging him to embrace the anticipation for the journey ahead.

Shaking your head fondly, you pressed a tender kiss to his cheek, the last remnants of his hesitation melting away like snowflakes in the spring sun under the warmth of your affection. His sigh was heavy, but it was a sigh of surrender, as his eyes once again alit with the thrill of exploration. "You're right," he said, a hint of eagerness creeping into his voice. "Let's get going."

Without another word, you resumed your journey down the path, the cool breeze tousling your hair as you gazed in wonder at the breathtaking scenery that surrounded you. The verdant foliage of the forest stretched out before you, dappled sunlight filtering through the leafy canopy overhead. And with him by your side, everything would only seem more enchanting and wondrous.

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#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twisted wonderland jade #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland jade leech

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fr3sh-tragedies · 8 months ago

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hey! hope you’re doing well🫶🏻

i was wondering if you can write more fics with Rose Winters x fem reader, because i really liked the most recent fic with her. 💕

thank you! have a good day! 🩷

Admission

[Shadows of Rose] Rosemary Winters x Female Reader

Summary: Rose has grown to like you, though she keeps her feelings hidden, convinced that you wouldn't feel the same way. Her worries are relieved when you sit her down for a talk.

Word Count: 3.17k Content Warnings: Fear of rejection Category: Soft Angst + Heavy Fluff || One-shot

[A/N]: Sorry for taking so long to post again. I've been trying to figure stuff out with my meds, and it's been messy. Thank you so much for requesting, hun! I hope you like what I managed to come up with!

[A/N] #2: Sorry if the formatting for the images and GIF above are weird. I kept trying to edit it properly on my phone and my laptop, but it kept changing every time I saved the post.

Enjoy!

Blended between the gentle rustle of leaves and the soulful songs of birds chirping high above, hearty barks of laughter sprung to life. Trailing forward on the graveled path encircling the small scenic park, you and Rose snickered with each shared inside joke passed alongside light, playful pushes, uncaring of the eyes trained on you in curiosity and slight annoyance.

As she spoke about another joyous memory of hers, you couldn’t help but take notice of the features adorning the heavenly smile painted across Rose’s lips. Although her eyes only periodically met yours as she recalled and retold the story in her mind, the way they crinkled from the amusement – also evident in her tone – was prominent. Similarly, upon chuckling in response to a particularly comical moment, the bridge of her nose scrunched up, and you watched as her hands flew down to rest on her gut to prevent herself from doubling over as another wave of laughter erupted from her throat.

God, she was beautiful.

You’d known that since the moment you met her years ago during one of her outdoor training exercises. To this day you were unsure as to why she was suddenly allowed to train away from the BSAA grounds, though you would forever be grateful to the soldiers stationed there who let her be free for a day and enjoy the park between training sessions.

You remembered watching her in pure awe then, just as you continued to do now. Everything about her amazed you.

On that particular day when you had first met, it was inspiring to witness how effortlessly she seemed to move during practice, and even more breathtaking to see how intrigued she was by the nature that surrounded her when she was allowed a break. The way her cheesy grin grew as she watched two birds dancing up in the branches, how the brightness of her blue eyes filled with curiosity when they finally landed on you, how she eagerly bounced your way with her arm outstretched – each little characteristic she presented to you swept you off your feet.

“Hi, I’m Rose,” she chirped once you managed to snap out of your awestruck trance and take her hand into your own. When you timidly offered up your name, she nodded and repeated it. “Pretty name,” she noted out loud to herself. She hadn’t seemed to notice the way your body tensed, nor the way your face grew warm and red at her words. Instead, she asked what you were doing there, and more importantly why you’d been watching her.

A moment passed where you came forward with no explanation, desperately trying to find a good enough excuse that wouldn’t make you come across as odd to this new, bubbly girl. Finally, you forced yourself to admit that you thought what she had been doing looked cool. “Oh, really?” She asked, her brows raised. “Why don’t you join me then? It’ll be fun!”

At first you tried to deny her suggestion. All it took to win you over, however, was a small, drawn-out “please,” paired with the pleading eyes you would later learn to be her favorite way to convince you to do what she wanted. Ultimately, you agreed, and she led you to the small, secluded section of the park she had been using to train all day. Just as she had begun to explain one of the easier maneuvers, excited to have someone to finally talk to, a gruff, towering man approached, halting her small lesson with a question of his own.

“Who is this, Rose?”

She turned to him, all of a sudden trembling and waving her hands about as she did her best to defend herself to this strange man. “She’s just a friend,” was how she started, and his head cocked itself to the side, eyes trained heavily on you with some kind of emotion you couldn’t pinpoint. “I figured we could do a few of the training moves together for fun.” The man sighed, shoulders drooping with fatigue and rough hand raising to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Rose, we’ve been over this.”

“I know, but I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to ease up this once. Chris, I’ve been working so hard, just like you want me to, but I really want to take a break every once in a while. Why can’t I just relax for one day? Isn’t that why you brought me out here this time?”

You remembered standing there, hands practically tied together in an attempt to ease the harsh trembling they carried. The soft breeze that day only forced you to take notice of the frigid beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck, which you not-so-subtly swiped at as you listened to them speak. The nerves throughout your body spiked when the man, whose name you barely managed to pick up on as Chris, glared over at you once more.

Wordlessly, his gaze flickered between you and Rose. You could feel yourself melting beneath his crushing eyes, your own focus landing on the soft tufts of vibrantly green grass beneath your shoes.

“Just this once,” he said at length, prompting you to snap your head up to face him again. You weren’t sure who he was, but you could tell how important his word was to Rose, who had once again grown giddy at his permission. “Thank you, Chris,” she cheered as she tugged him sideways into a small hug.

She pulled you to a nearby spot and continued explaining the specific move she had tried to talk about earlier. Chris kept a watchful eye on the two of you, though you could tell it was more on you than her. After some time, you didn’t even notice him anymore, too engulfed in the game you and Rose had made up and started playing. By the time soft blues and purples began to paint the sky, you saw how he seemed to be more at ease around you, even offering you a kind smile before you parted ways with your new friend.

Now, as you trotted through the park with that same friend, it was all too easy to listen to her poke fun at a few failed training experiments she had with Chris over the years. Even with her teasing words, it was clear how much the man meant to her. “He’s like a second father to me,” she told you once.

As she finished her thought and turned to you, you blinked, unsure of whether or not she had asked you something. You had been too focused on how the palette of the setting sun casted itself beautifully over the blonde locks tucked underneath her cap and her pale skin, the hues alone making her look ethereal. You fidgeted with your phone in your pocket for a moment, wanting to capture her in that moment.

“Is there something on my face?” She questioned suddenly, subconsciously wiping her mouth as your silence briefly continued. “Oh, no,” you replied after finally coming back to your senses. “Sorry, I just kind of zoned out for a minute.” She hummed and nodded, a small smile toying effortlessly at the corners of her lips.

For a split second, you found yourself gawking at her again. Before she could catch you a second time, however, you coerced yourself to instead listen to the crunching of the gravel beneath your feet as they carried you forward, your eyes dropping to watch them do so. The cool wind that grazed over your skin was welcome in comparison to the burning sensation building up in your face, and you were unable to bite back a small huff of relief when it cooled and dried the droplets of sweat forming on your brow. Curiously, Rose glanced your way at the sound, though she looked ahead again when you said nothing more.

“So,” she started after walking a few more paces, “any ideas on what you want to do after high school? I mean, I know you told me about the college you want to go to and what you want to major in, but any plans for anything else?”

“Anything else?” You echoed. “What do you mean?”

Just as yours had done only a moment prior, Rose’s face seemed to burn scarlet red, though she quickly averted her eyes and turned her head to hide it. Forming a fist and bringing it up to cover her mouth, she cleared her throat and nodded. “Yeah, like…” She shrugged, though it seemed more like she was trying to get something off her shoulders than being casual about it. “I don’t know. Maybe start dating someone, or… do something else?” She scoffed. “I don’t know.” It hurt your heart to see her seem so anxious about something, but her tone and timidness brought a sense of endearment as well.

“Oh,” you blurted, mirroring her actions and turning away to hide the betrayal of your reddening features. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it awkward,” she murmured with a defeated sigh.

You desperately wanted to tell her she didn’t make anything awkward, wanted her to know there was nothing to feel guilty about, but it would be a blatant lie to say things weren’t uncomfortable. Instead, all you could offer up was a whispered “it’s okay.”

As the world around you quietened and settled to make way for the rising moon, your mind raced and scrambled for something more to say. “Well,” you squeaked out eventually. “I don’t know about dating anyone, but it would be nice to find a steady job so college doesn’t completely kick my ass.” A quiet chuckle slipped from her lips, though she seemed disappointed in your answer, her eyebrows creasing as though she had been expecting something else. Hoping for something else.

“Yeah,” was her only reply.

When your eyes finally wandered over to look at her, she seemed further away, her eyes slightly dull and that smile gone from her face entirely. Upon noticing this shift in her demeanor, you found yourself determined to cheer her up, eyes flickering around the area almost frantically for an escape from this tense atmosphere you had unintentionally built.

A few paces ahead was a bench, clear of other people and free from any potential prying eyes. As you crossed through the grass, Rose watched you with a hint of confusion, quickly trailing behind and ultimately joining you on the bench. Before any other thoughts could form, one thought in particular made itself known to you, one that had you crumbling slightly from fear.

It seemed the short-lived discussion of dating seemed to be the cause of her deflated charisma. Maybe bringing it up again in a different light would spark that gleam in her eyes again.

While your hands fiddled restlessly with the hem of your shirt, Rose looked around silently at the empty park, the tree behind the bench nearly drowning the both of you in total darkness as the sun continued to fall beneath the horizon. It took some time before she noticed your shuffling, though her face was quick to contort with concern when she did. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just,” a quick clearing of your throat was made as an attempt to conceal the way your voice shook and cracked. “Can I be honest with you about something?” She nodded. “Of course.” “It has to do with what we were talking about earlier. About dating someone?” At your words, she seemed to perk up, a strange concoction of emotions flooding behind her gaze.

Even with the darkening shadows dimming any clarity given by her features, she made it evident that she had taken a sudden interest in what you had to say. She was eager.

You heard the rustling of her sleeves as her arms lurched forward toward you, only to falter and return to her sides, and could still make out the silhouette and the curve of her face when she winced at her own actions. You paid no mind to it, knowing that what you were wanting to say would probably bring you more grief than what she felt.

“I do actually like someone,” you mumbled, shying away from her gaze when it returned to you. “But will you promise me you won’t freak out if I tell you who it is?”

As if the incident from before had been replayed, she physically deflated at your words all over again.

“Uh,” she whispered, looking down unsurely.

“Yeah, sure. I promise.”

Her tone made you hesitate for a moment. If she was this upset just by you mentioning you had feelings for someone, how would she react to you admitting who it was? Before you could lose the nerve, you forced yourself to speak. “Well, she’s special to me. Ever since I met her, she’s done nothing but make me happy, and I feel like I can actually be myself around her. I feel… safe and secure with her, and I’ve honestly been picturing myself with her in the future.”

Each passing word seemed to crush Rose more and more, though you continued with this seemingly brutal torture anyway.

“She’s beautiful, and funny, and smart, and strong, and talented, and I didn’t realize how important she is to me until recently. I want to tell her how I feel and see if she feels the same, but I need you to be honest with me. Do you think she’d feel the same way?”

Bitterly, she shrugged and shifted her hands to toy with her fingers. “Depends,” she responded bluntly. “Who is it?”

“It’s you, Rose.”

For an agonizingly silent moment, all she could do was stare down at her hands, and you wondered to yourself if she had even heard you at all. Just as you parted your lips to repeat yourself, her head lifted and turned to you. The pale lighting from the slowly rising moon caressed her face, allowing you to see the starstruck expression that riddled her features. Shakily, she lifted her finger to point at herself. “Me?” She asked in disbelief, a scarlet red hue dusting across her cheeks.

When you nodded, it only took half a second before that gleaming smile you adored more than life itself broke out across her lips. “Oh,” she blurted, shrinking into herself a bit while her chipped nails tapped at the backs of her knuckles, her grin never fleeing.

Her eyes, although you couldn’t see them clearly in the little light provided, flickered down for a moment in thought before returning to your own gaze. “You’ve been picturing a future together with me?” You hummed and nodded, soft prickles bubbling up on the back of your neck as your mind tried to convince you of every possible way she could reject you then. The thumping of your heart skipped with fear when she laughed, and your head dipped down to hide your face.

“I never thought you’d actually feel the same way,” she confessed, hands writhing against one another. The moment the words left her lips, you found yourself glancing back up at her, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock. “You like me too?” Another soft chuckle. “Yeah, of course I do. I honestly thought I was horrible at hiding it, but apparently not.”

The corners of her lips perked up into a sly smirk. “Or maybe you’re just a little too dense for it.” Playfully, you smacked the side of her arm, which prompted another joyful laugh that you could never get enough of. Slowly, her hand slid over to cover yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “But in all seriousness, I really do like you. I’ve been wanting to tell you that for a while now, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I really didn’t think you would feel the same way.”

Tilting your head to the side, you gave a look of confusion. “What? Why wouldn’t I like you? You’re only, like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

She tucked her hair back out of her face before offering a small shrug as a response. Your question seemed to bring her a feeling of discomfort, and although you weren’t sure why, you were quick to try and think of a way to cheer her up again. Before you were able to speak, however, she answered you properly.

“Well, I mean… to be fair, I haven’t always exactly been liked. Before I met you, I had never actually fallen in love with anyone. Mainly because I’ve never been close to anyone before, but also because you’re the only person I actually feel safe with. I feel like I can be myself around you – like I finally mean something. You make me feel like I’m normal in all the best ways. Chris is nice, but he and the others have only raised me to be a bioweapon for them, and they don’t hide the fact that that’s how they see me. You, though… You make me feel human. You make me feel like I’m a real person who has her own purpose – her own life and future.

“And if I’m being honest? As corny as this is going to sound, I don’t want to live in any future for myself if you’re not in it. I was worried that if I confessed how I felt to you, you’d think I was weird or gross and wouldn’t want to be around me anymore. That’s why I kept trying to hide how I feel. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Each passing word only caused your smile to grow. As she spoke, you flipped your hand around in hers, allowing you to finally lace your fingers with hers. When she fell silent again, you gave her hand a small squeeze, similar to how she had done to you shortly before. “Well, now you don’t have to worry about it anymore. You know I feel the same, and you know I want to have a future with you.”

Slowly, she rose to her feet, then turned and helped you stand to look her in the eye. Even with the blackening shadows, you could still see the smitten gleam in her eyes, paired with the seemingly permanent smile on her lips. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she whispered.

“So what does that make us?” You stepped forward, arms flying out to encircle her and pull her flush against your body, prompting a small yelp to sound from her. As quickly as you had reached for her, she all but melted into your touch and held you just as tightly in return. “Well, I’d like to be your girlfriend,” you replied. “But only if you feel the same.”

Her shoulders shook slightly against you as she laughed, her fingernails digging in lightly to your shirt as she nodded. “Of course I feel the same, you dork. I’d love nothing more than to be able to call you mine.”

#fluff #x reader #female reader #slight angst #resident evil village #resident evil #heavy fluff #rose winters #rosemary winters #rosemary winters x reader #rosemary winters x female reader #rose winters x reader #rose winters x female reader

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