#parry darling

[lonelylesbian2]

We be trending again

[lonelylesbian2]

eating him

eating him

[ravioli-fries]

And they became good friends.

This is a comic showing the mutual understanding Parry and Wally have with each other. Strengthening their trust. Parry understands Wally will not drop his facade but admires him for his determination, knowing it’s all to keep people happy. And Wally is thankful to Parry for understanding him, plus for not prying.

[scenaaario]

choccy melk, spicy mayo & battery acid (it's a good thing!!)

it’s actually all a ruse i am the least scary person on earth 👹 get over here we’re baking christmas cookies and then daydreaming about author!marcus baking christmas cookies ����🥰🥰

[lonelylesbian2]

@queerhairycowboy CAT

wait wait wait i have literally the best picture ever of my cat, bob

[rhaenyra-storms]

Cregan Stark x reader where he teaches reader how to use a sword for safety reasons.

i think cregan would love to teach you some moves with a sword

pairing: cregan stark x f!reader warnings: training with blunt swords, a little teasing, reader is shorter than cregan words: 927

It wasn't a secret to anyone that the Lord of Winterfell was madly in love with you. He wanted to keep you safe – at all times. It wasn't uncommon for him to order a few more guards to follow you whenever he deemed a situation a little more dangerous. Especially if you were travelling without him.

Cregan would trust most of his men with his life. But he couldn't really accept the off chance that you would have to defend yourself one day. However, he had always seen you, his wife, as a strong woman – capable of defending yourself when needed and with the right amount of willpower to get through anything.

But you hadn't been taught formally how to swing a sword or what points to hit with a dagger if an opponent came too close.

He wanted to change that.

When you both found a quiet day in the castle, where your time wasn't filled with the duties of a Lord and Lady, he invited you to join him in the godswood. It was a secluded enough area so you could both train on your own.

"I really don't know if I will be good at this, Cregan," you sighed as you followed the tall man towards the weirwood tree. Winter was still far away, but the air was cold today. Your husband seemed to welcome it as he had already told you this morning that this was 'the perfect temperature to train'.

"You won't be good at it at first, my love. It's going to take some time, but-" His hand cupped your cheek gingerly as he looked down at you, his gaze briefly moving to your lips. Sometimes it was hard for him to resist pulling you in and just kissing you instead of talking.

"It's going to keep you safe. And I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you while I wasn't there," Cregan's tone had turned more serious, his eyebrows pushed together in concern. You gently placed your hand on his chest, nodding slowly. You understood that your husband was worried for you and if it made him feel better to know you'd taken some lessons in defending yourself... you wouldn't be the one to argue against it.

"I know, darling." You gave him a little smile which was already enough to make his heart melt. Cregan was a strong man, a wolf some might say, but he always seemed to melt around you.

"Good. Let's get started then." Your husband smiled back at you, an excited glimmer in his eyes. Before he let go of you, he stole a small kiss from your lips before he headed to the weirwood tree and picked up two blunt swords he had placed there earlier.

You had switched your dresses for some light pants and a white tunic today. It would be easier to move around that way and you had to admit that it felt a little freeing somehow – at least if you had to watch your step a lot more.

Cregan handed you one of the swords, making sure you closed your fingers around it properly. His fingers lingered on yours for a moment longer as he searched for your eyes. His expression was stern and serious, his hold on your hand strong, but still gentle.

"You have to keep a firm grip on the sword, alright? That's almost half the work already. The swinging will come naturally." He didn't have to teach you how to parry right away or how to distract your opponent – this would be enough for now. You would have to get a feel for the sword first.

"Alright," you nodded along and watched as Cregan stood opposite of you.

Your husband was always an imposing sight. His black armour and the Stark sigil on his chest, his dark hair tied back...

But his eyes always looked at you kindly.

"Try to attack me, my love."

You tried to hit a blow at your husband with the training sword which he easily blocked. You had wrapped both of your hands around the hilt of the sword while Cregan was defending himself easily with one hand swinging his own weapon.

You went back and forth like this for a while until you started to feel more and more confident in your movements. It even started to be a little fun as you two laughed when you stumbled or Cregan got distracted by how good you looked swinging a sword.

He'd be lying if he said that it didn't even turn him on a little to see you all sweaty, swinging a sword at him and dancing back and forth in the godswood as he blocked your blows.

"You're doing great," he kept encouraging you, watching your movements as you attacked him once more. This time though, you managed to catch him a little off guard and he was the one stumbling over some roots in the ground, falling backwards into the grass.

His sword tumbled out of his hand and you stumbled as well as you lost your balance.

Your weapon flew a few feet away. You landed on top of your husband, letting out a surprised gasp when you found yourself on top of his chest.

"I'm sorry, Cregan," you laughed, looking down at him as he moved his hand to rest on the small of your back.

"It's alright. I think I rather enjoy the sight," he grinned, a mischievous glint sneaking into his eyes.

To be fair, you enjoyed the sight as well.

[flightlessangelwings]

Our Souls Intertwined

sith!Obi Wan Kenobi x fem!jedi!reader

Word count- 4,580

Prompt- a lightsaber tilting up someone's chin

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), enemies to lovers, fighting, mutual pining, flirting, tension, fingering, piv sex, pet names (darling, love), praise, jedi!reader, reader is competent as a fighter and is a badass, no physical descrption of reader other than body parts, lightsaber color also never described, no use of y/n, open ending so you can decide for yourself what happens next

Notes- Written for Sith Obi Wan event @sithobiwanevent and oh boy did I have so much fun with this one!! I hope y'all enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Please let me know what you think!!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

^ gif credit linked above (thank you wonderful person for making that gif!!)

~

It was an epic battle. The whir of lightsabers filled the air. Red clashed with various colors as Lord Obi Wan Kenobi, feared and powerful sith lord, fought his way through the waves of jedi that came at him. A dark smirk graced his face as he sliced through some padawans, easily defeating the young opponents in front of him. Around him, his army fired from their blasters. It was chaos, and he thrived on it. The energy around him whirled, and he harnessed the power of the force to his advantage.

It was then that Kenobi saw you.

He brushed a lock of hair that had fallen on his face to watch you battle the enemy droids that surrounded you. He saw the strain in your jaw as you parried the blaster fire that came your way before you ran and stabbed those that shot at you. Kenobi was actually impressed by the way you handled yourself, and he actually had to take a breath to calm the thoughts that flooded his mind.

Swinging his red saber in a dramatic circle, Kenobi rushed over to you, calling your name as he got within range.

You whipped around, your own lightsaber at the ready as you braced yourself from the impact of Kenobi’s weapon.

“Hello there,” Kenobi smirked.

“Kenobi,” you strained as you countered his attack and parried with one of your own.

“Lovely to see you again, darling,” he quipped.

You just grunted as you volleyed your weapon. Ignoring the way Kenobi’s yellow eyes bore into you as if they were looking into your soul, you focused on the red of his blade. The two of you fought each other one on one, your blades crossing each other as if you were in a dance. The rest of the battle seemed to fade away and all that existed was each other.

“You’ve improved, darling,” Kenobi observed as he lunged at you with more force, electricity cackling as his saber crushed against yours.

“Don’t call me that, Kenobi,” you growled back, fighting both his physical assault and the way your heart secretly fluttered in your chest whenever he called you any term of endearment. The smoothness of his voice always went right to your core, as much as you tried to push it away. 

It only took that one fraction of a second for Kenobi to gain the advantage. Just the slight loosening of your lightsaber was all it took for him to knock it out of your hand and use the force to push you onto the ground. You spat a curse under your breath as you tried to channel the force to pull your saber back into your hand, but Kenobi’s boot caught it before it slid close enough for you to grasp it.

“Shit,” you muttered as you scrambled to your knees.

Before you could rise completely, red filled your vision. The hum of Kenobi’s lightsaber rang in your ears as you suddenly found yourself paralyzed. Sweat lined your brow as he used the tip of his saber to gently force your vision up to meet his gaze. He was careful, though, careful not to actually touch the blade to your skin and hurt you. Instead, Kenobi used the force to angle your head up.

In one hand, Kenobi held his lightsaber and the other he held up with two fingers as he controlled the force around the two of you. His eyes matched the red of his blade as his gaze pierced into you.

Helpless, you swallowed hard, “If you’re going to kill me, Kenobi,” you tried to sound strong, though you were sure your voice was strained, “Just get it over with. Don’t toy with me like this.”

“Why would I kill you, darling?” he purred, clearly enjoying having you helpless on your knees before him.

The question caught you off guard.

“Why not join me?” he asked in a smooth tone, “I could help you hone your skills. You could fight at my side instead of against me.”

You inhaled sharply, “You asked me that before, Kenobi,” you steadied your breath as you focused your feelings and reigned in your emotions, “And my answer is still no.”

He smiled darkly, “Still as stubborn as ever I see,” he actually sounded impressed, “But I see there is no changing your mind yet, love.” Kenobi released you and retracted his lightsaber. 

With a gasp, you fell forward and your face smashed into the ground. Quickly, you scrambled to your hands and knees only to find Kenobi had put some distance between the two of you.

“Until next time, darling,” he gave you a quick wave of his fingers before he disappeared into a dust cloud.

You were left alone and astonished. Why hadn’t he killed you? Why did he leave you alive? Again? Swallowing hard, you ignored the way your heart pounded in your chest as you grabbed your lightsaber and ran back to help the other jedi.

*

It wasn’t long before you met Kenobi again on the battlefield. Lightsabers clashed as you fought him on the desolate planet. You weren’t even sure which planet you were on, only that it was barren and filled mostly with sand and boulders and caves. Lightsabers and blasters clashed in the dunes and rocks of the desolate planet. 

“You get better every time I see you, darling,” Kenobi smirked, “If you were to join me, I could make you even greater.”

“Keep dreaming, Kenobi,” you countered back. 

“Oh I do see you in my dreams, darling,” he grinned, enjoying how his words threw you off for a moment.

The two of you battled each other, moving away from the rest of the battlefield and the others without realizing it. You grunted as you tried to focus your energy into finally beating him, but the way his yellow eyes stared into your soul distracted you. And all it took was a moment, just one flash of an instant, for you to lose your edge.

One misstep and you tumbled down the rocky ridge that hosted your duel with the sith lord. But, before you hit the ground, you found yourself suspended in the air. Looking up, you saw Kenobi rush toward you, shouting your name. In a fit of frustration, you channeled the force and pushed that energy towards him, attempting to knock him off balance.

It did, and Kenobi fell back. However, the rush of force energy also hit a large pile of large rocks and boulders. The ground rumbled beneath your body and you knew this was greater trouble than the sith in front of you. In an instant, your goal changed from beating Kenobi to getting out of the rockslide alive. 

Looking behind him, he noticed the danger too and he bolted toward you and pulled you off the ground, “Run!” Kenobi yelled as he grabbed your hand.

The rockslide felt like it was caving in around you as you ran, your hand in his. Kenobi led you towards a cave, an opening that seemed to be your only way of escaping the cascading boulders around you both. As the dust clouded your vision and the crashing of the rocks around you made it hard to hear, you had no choice but to put your trust in him.

Kenobi got you both into the cave with just a fraction of a second to spare. Both of you crashed to the ground as the boulders piled up at the entrance, blocking you in. You let out a heavy exhale as the dust settled, and the only beams of light that lit up the small cave came from higher up.

The cave was shallow, and you could see the end of it. That meant there was no way out except for how you came in. And how you came in was currently blocked with dozens of large boulders. The beams of light came from small openings between the rocks, but they weren’t big enough to crawl through. Inside the cave, there were only the two of you, along with rocks scattered throughout the floor.

“Are you alright?” Kenobi asked with genuine concern in his voice.

“I’m fine,” you replied immediately as you tried to stand. However, when you tried to move your arm, you hissed in pain, “Shit…” you grabbed your shoulder and felt blood soak your hand.

“No you’re not,” Kenobi rushed to you, inspecting your wound and swallowing the fear that threatened to bubble over in his mind.

“I’ll be ok,” you tried to ignore his worry over you, “It’s not that bad.”

He pursed his lips as he looked at your shoulder then back to where the boulders piled high, trapping you in together, “It’s too high to climb,” he observed, “And it’ll take both of us to move all the boulders,” Kenobi turned back to you, “Which you can’t do with that injury,” he reached for your shoulder again, “Let me.” His heart fluttered in his chest as he saw the blood seep from your shoulder, and he hated the sinking feeling he had when he saw you hurt.

Before you could protest, Kenobi covered your injury with his hand and let out a long slow breath. Mouth opened in shock, you felt warmth on your injury and you felt the energy of the force flow from him into you. You watched him for a moment before you closed your eyes and surrendered yourself, feeling the force flow between your bodies as if it cradled and protected you both. Warmth embraced you as you felt rejuvenated from what Kenobi was doing.

With a gasp, Kenobi broke away from you as his eyes shot open. He backed away as he hunched forward, weak from the energy he expended. You let out a gasp of your own as you watched him crawl to a rock to steady himself before he lifted his body to sit.

“How were you able to do that?” you asked in shock as you cradled your now uninjured shoulder.

Kenobi just looked at you, “Well I wasn’t always a sith, darling,” he gave you a genuine soft smile.

The question came out before you could stop it, “What happened?”

His smile turned mischievous, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You rolled your eyes.

Changing the subject with a heavy sigh, Kenobi said, “It looks like we’ll be here for a while. I need to recover my strength if we are to move those boulders,” he looked around, “Might as well get comfortable.”

Your body remained stiff as you stayed on high alert. Your saber was at your side, yet you made sure your hand was never far from it. The muscles in your jaw clenched harder as you watched Kenobi visibly relax on a rock, leaning back and resting his leg in front of him.

“I’m not going to attack you,” he said in a calm tone after feeling your heavy gaze on him for several long moments.

“Then what are you going to do?” you asked, guard still up but chipped away just the slightest. 

Kenobi smirked as he stood, “What would you like me to do, darling?” he purred as he took a step towards you.

You took a step back, keeping the distance between you. Yet, you couldn’t deny the way you felt the force move around you whenever he was near, and especially when it was now just the two of you trapped and alone. And you were sure he felt it too.

“I…” 

The two of you kept up this dance, Kenobi stepping forward and you stepping back until you hit a wall. His body was relaxed; he wasn’t hunting you. Instead, it was as if he was approaching you at a bar, friendly almost. Your heart pounded in your chest, yet it wasn’t from fear.

“I have something in mind,” his tone was low yet soft as he stepped into your space.

You swallowed hard as you pressed your back against the wall, feeling him against you. Kenobi placed a hand on one side of your head as his gaze bore into your soul.

“And I think you have the same thought as I do,” he continued as he leaned into you.

“How do you know?” you tried to sound tough, but you didn’t even fool yourself. You dropped your gaze to the ground, avoiding his eyes.

Kenobi let out an amused huff as he took two fingers and gently guided your face to look back up and meet his eyes. It was a similar feeling from last time when you met him on the battlefield and he used his saber to force you to look at him. Both times, you should have felt threatened, in danger. And yet, you didn’t. Not then, and certainly not now. No, it was a different feeling that pulsed through your veins.

“Because,” he said in almost a whisper, “You aren’t pushing me away.”

Your mouth dropped open as you realized that he was not trapping you at all. The only contact he made was his fingers on your chin, which you could have easily brushed off. Kenobi hovered close to you, yet he gave you a clear path out if you chose to take it. Yet, you didn’t. You chose to stay there, in his gaze.

“Why don’t you just take what you want from me?” you asked.

“Darling,” he sounded almost offended, “I would never do that to you. I would never hurt you,” he sighed, “I want you on your own volition.”

“Obi Wan…” you breathed his name… his first name you realized. 

His yellow eyes went wide as his jaw clenched, “No one has called me that in… A long time,” he sighed, “It sounds lovely in your voice.”

You let out a deep breath as you felt his breath on your lips.

“Tell me what you want, darling,” he murmured, “And say my name again.” It wasn’t a command, but a request. It was his way of giving you one last out should you choose.

Your eyes darted from his yellow ones down to his lips and you swallowed hard, “Kiss me… Obi Wan.”

The moment the words left your lips he crashed his into yours. Your moan was muffled from the kiss, but you instantly melted into it, grasping at his black robes as you parted your lips for him. Obi Wan took the invitation eagerly and slipped his tongue past your lips, tasting you, savoring you. He groaned into you as he finally touched you, one hand grabbing your hip while the other cradled your jaw. 

In your studies as a jedi, you trained to feel the force around you and how to harness it. You had an exceptional understanding of it, and learned to control it much faster than your classmates. As a knight, your power only grew. But, it wasn’t until you kissed the sith lord Obi Wan Kenobi that you fully understood the true feeling of the force wrapping itself around you and how it bound two souls together. You had never felt anything like this in your life before. And from the way he groaned into you, you were sure he felt the same way.

“You taste divine, lovely,” he purred against your lips before he kissed you again, his beard ticking your face as he devoured you.

“Obi Wan…” you whispered as you broke the kiss for a breath of air. You tilted your head to the side as he kissed his way along your jaw and down your neck, sending goosebumps across your skin as he hit more sensitive spots, “Touch me. Please,” you pleaded.

“It would be my pleasure, darling,” he groaned as his hands roamed across your chest.

His hands slipped under your jedi robes and cupped your breasts. He let out a satisfied growl when you mewled in pleasure under his touch, and he could help the way he kneaded and caressed your soft mounds. Kenobi felt a jolt within him when he pinched your nipples and made you cry out louder.

He hummed as his hands made their way down your body, his eyes never moving from your face the entire time. Kenobi didn’t want to miss a single expression as he worshiped you with his hands. He paused for a moment when his fingers reached the top of your pants, but when you didn’t protest or push him away, he dipped a hand underneath the fabric.

Both of you gasped as Obi Wan’s hand cupped your pussy. While your eyes fluttered shut and you arched your back against the wall, his stayed open, watching you with great interest. Your mouth dropped open as he carefully pushed two fingers into you.

“Fuck!” you cried out as you grasped at his shoulders for balance.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he thrust his fingers in and out of you. Obi Wan couldn’t tear his eyes away from you even if he wanted to. Every little expression you made, every little sound of pleasure that escaped your lips, even how your pussy felt around him… you were everything to him.

“Obi Wan…” you whined as your mind swam in the bliss his fingers gave you. 

Oh how he loved it when you said his name. Obi Wan’s eyes burned with passion as he growled and thrust his fingers into you harder. His cock strained with need, but he ignored it in favor of pleasuring you. As he buried his fingers deep inside you, Obi Wan rutted against your body, covering you with himself as heat rose between you.

“Please… I’m close…” you moaned as you felt dizzy. You tightened your grip on him, knowing he would be there to hold you and keep you steady.

“Show me how beautiful you are when you cum, darling,” he groaned as he picked up his pace with his fingers.

It only took a few more deep thrusts for you to come undone. Your body trembled in his grip as you came hard with a loud scream of his name. Tears filled your eyes as you felt overwhelmed between the emotions that pulsed through your body as you rode out your orgasm on his fingers. And just as you felt breathless, he kissed you again, even more deeply this time.

You whimpered as Obi Wan slowly pulled his fingers out of you and your chest rose and fell with your heavy breaths. When he broke away, you finally looked into his eyes and saw the fire that burned behind them. “Fuck me, Obi Wan.”

He smiled at you as he grabbed you and spun you around. In a flash, you found yourself on your back, his cape underneath you as he quickly yanked and tugged at both your clothing. Depreciation took over both of you as you worked to quickly strip each other until you are both completely bare.

“Wow,” you breathed as you stared at him.

“Exquisite,” he moaned as he lunged forward and kissed you once more, his hips rutting against the fold of your pussy as he started to lose control of himself.

Obi Wan lost even more control as he pushed the tip of his cock into you. Both of you gasped and cried out as you felt him slowly enter you. You clawed at his back as more of his cock stretched you out inch by inch. And Obi Wan growled as your warmth engulfed him, driving him wild.

“Obi Wan…” you whined.

“I know, darling,” he muttered as he rocked back and thrust forward. 

A string of curses escaped both your lips as he rocked in and out of you, hitting that sweet spot inside you with precision every single time. You screamed as your vision blurred and you dug your nails more into his back. But it only spurred him on more, thrusting harder and faster into you as he became more and more desperate.

Screams and groans echoed in the cave and skin slapped against skin. Obi Wan would have wanted this to last longer, but you were too beautiful, too enticing, too perfect. Sweat lined his brow as locks of hair stuck to his forehead as he thrust into you with abandon. 

“Cum for me, darling,” he growled as he felt his own climax build, “Cum with me.”

“Fuck!” you cried out as your breasts swung back and forth with every thrust of his hips.

With a scream, your second orgasm hit you like a bantha and your legs trembled on either side of his body as he continued to pound into you. Obi Wan growled your name as your orgasm triggered his and he came deep into you, grunting and moaning as he spilled himself inside your body.

Obi Wan kept going as long as he could, rocking into your wet pussy hard enough to feel the splash of your release soak your bodies. But, as he rode out both your climaxes, neither of you had anything left to give and he pulled out of you after one final thrust. 

You gasped as you felt the sudden emptiness and your eyes shot open to watch him hover over you with an inferno in his gaze. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you stared back at him and suddenly you were keenly aware of how naked you still were. Heavy breaths echoed around you as you both lost yourselves in each other.

Sensing your shift, Obi Wan took a deep breath and composed himself. He leaned over and gathered your jedi robes and handed them to you, “Here,” he said before he turned his back to you to give you some privacy.

Neither of you were sure why he did that, after he just fucked you. but you welcomed it either way. Both of you were silent as you redressed. Your heart still beat wildly in your chest as you felt the ghost of his touch on your skin and you replayed what just happened in your head.

“Anger. Fear. Loss,” Obi Wan broke the silence after he slipped on his pants and robe, leaving it open to bare his chest to you still.

“What?” Your voice was just a whisper as you spun around to face him.

“How I turned to the dark side,” Obi Wan said in a soft voice, one that you guessed he hadn’t used in some time, “There was someone… very dear to me. Someone that I loved with everything I had. Someone…” he took in a shaky breath as he ran his hands through his hair, “I couldn’t save… No matter how hard I tried.”

You watched with wide eyes as he bared his soul to you with his confession. You guessed the way his story ended without him having to say it out loud. You both knew the path to the dark side, and how his loss led to his fall. You crossed the space to stand face to face with him as you placed a hand on his chest.

“I swore then that I would never care for anyone like that again,” Obi Wan turned away from you, breaking the contact he craved so deeply, “And I hadn’t since…” he turned back to meet your gaze, “Until now.”

A gasp escaped your lips, “Obi Wan…?”

He gave you a sad smile, one that you couldn’t decipher its meaning. Before you could say anything else, though, he turned to the wall of boulders, “I think we can move it now,” he said as he tightened his robe around him.

You followed his gaze with your own and nodded, “Ok.” The disappointment in your tone was clear. 

“Concentrate all your energy,” he told you, “You hold them steady, I will push them out of our way. When you see an opening, you run. Understand?”

You wanted to protest. You wanted to tell him to run with you, to stay at your side. But the seriousness in his expression told you it wasn’t worth the energy to argue. “Got it.”

Both of you raised your arms, channeling the force toward the boulders. You grunted as you kept the large rocks steady while Obi Wan worked on moving them out of the way. He started with the smaller ones at the top, but when he got to the middle, it all started to collapse.

“Steady!” he shouted.

You gritted your teeth as you strained to keep the bigger ones steady. Dust started to fill the air as everything moved. When Obi Wan got to the center, he called your name, “Run! Now! Go!”

Doing as you were told, you bolted forward into the dust. You tried to keep the rocks steady as you ran, but the more you exerted yourself, the harder it got. The ground rumbled as the boulders tumbled out of the way, creating dust clouds so thick that you couldn’t see through.

Once you were out and clear from the rocks, you turned around and screamed, “Obi Wan!” You streamed to look for him through the dust, but for several moments, you couldn't. You reached through the force, pushing the rocks out of the way to search for him.

Just when you were about to lose hope, you saw his silhouette in the dust, “Obi Wan,” you sighed in relief as you ran to him. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him, embracing him hard, “You’re ok.”

He smiled at you as he held you close, just as relieved as you were, “I’m alright, darning.”

You looked into his eyes, and for a moment you saw no sign of the sith yellow that usually illuminated them. In front of you now wasn’t a sith lord or empire general, but just a man. As you held each other, you felt the sense that there was much left unspoken, but the sound of an engine in the distance forced those thoughts to remain unsaid.

“It’s a rebel transport,” he said, “They must have seen the dust cloud from our escape. They’ll pick you up, and you’ll be safe.”

“But what about you?” you turned back to face him.

Obi Wan smiled at you as he cupped the side of your face, “I’ll be alright, darling, don’t you worry.” He paused for a moment, as if he wanted to kiss you again, but he decided not to, “Now go,” he nudged you forward as he retreated back.

You turned toward the incoming ship, waving your hands so that they spotted you. As it hovered closer, blowing your robes up into the wind, you spoke to him with your back still turned, “Obi Wan, come with…” you turned around to find him gone, “Me.” Your shoulders dropped in disappointment as the ship landed and the clones called your name.

“You’re alright! We were looking for you,” they said as they ushered you onto the ship.

From the shadows in the distance, Obi Wan Kenobi watched as you got on board and were flown away to safety. He sensed the thought in your mind, and he fled before you could ask it. He knew he would not have the strength to deny your request had he heard you speak it. Blowing a kiss into the air, he whispered, “Until we meet again, my love,” before he turned and went the opposite direction. 

Be safe, he released his thought across the planes to you. 

[stray-kaz]

Buoyant : a Roronoa Zoro x f!reader oneshot

Summary: Zoro finds himself unexpectedly falling for the young single mother Nami rescued, along with her little girl.

The gentle rise and fall of the rolling sea stirred you to wake, inching over onto your side to search for your daughter. Your eyes, once sealed shut by sleep, flew open when you didn't feel her beside you, the once warm depression where her body had lain now cool and empty.

"Amada?"

You scrambled out of the bed and threw on clothes, hastily buttoning and shoving your already socked feet into your boots. You didn't think that any of the crew members of the ship would let anything happen to her, but your heart remained lodged high in your throat until your boots met the deck and you glimpsed an unforgettable sight.

Roronoa Zoro gripped a wooden sword, the second of the pair being grasped fiercely by a much smaller hand, jewel bright eyes fixed on the swordsman's face.

Your daughter's long dark hair was pulled back from her face in an untidy ponytail, undoubtedly the work of Zoro himself, fingers perfect wrapped around the hilt of a sword but clumsy with a little girl's hair. Especially a little girl who was looking up at him like he lassoed the sun just for her.

You sat down on one of the wooden stairs to watch, not saying a word or making a sound. You drew your knees up to rest your chin on them, staring intently as Zoro put your five year old through her paces, teaching her slowly how to step and parry and weave.

"Cute, huh?"

You glanced up at the sound of the familiar voice to see Nami standing above you.

"I didn't know he could be like this" you admitted quietly.

She snorted and dropped down next to you on the stairs.

"You'd be surprised."

"Did she ask him to show her?" you asked, curious.

Nami shook her head.

"No. Luffy dared her to see if she could take his sword without him noticing. He noticed."

You sucked in your breath, your gaze snapping back across the empty deck to your daughter, your heart walking around outside your body. Nami put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Don't worry" she said softly. "All he did was tell her that his was too sharp, too dangerous for her to play with, but if she wanted to learn, he could teach her."

Nami rolled her eyes as she continued.

"Zoro knows it was Luffy's idea, not Amada's. He'll look after her."

More footsteps and a plate of pastries was extended beneath your nose.

"Tangerine tart?" Sanji inquired casually. "Breakfast and a show, darling?"

You looked up at him and took one.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

He sat down a few steps behind you and it wasn't long before Usopp and Luffy joined him, drawn by the smell of fresh baking.

"How long do you think it'll be before he realises he has an audience?" Usopp murmured.

Not long, apparently. Before you could answer, Zoro turned and looked right at you, his unfathomable dark eyes fixed on yours. You didn't notice you were holding your breath until Amada tossed down her wooden sword and threw herself across the deck to you, cutting through the tension with a giddy laugh.

"Mama!" she crowed in your ear, making you wince. "Roro is teaching me how to sword fight!"

You held her tightly, meeting his eyes again over her head.

"Is he now?" you murmured, and kissed her cheek. "Are you listening carefully to everything he tells you?"

Amada nodded enthusiastically and bounced up to snatch a tart from the plate Sanji was holding out to her. You stood up and Zoro strode across the ship's deck towards you. You were standing in his way, but he just sidestepped you neatly and jogged up the steps, reaching down to ruffle Amada's ponytail as he went.

Something hot and bright burned in your chest and you followed him, still painfully aware of the collective gazes of Luffy and his crew all watching after you.

Zoro spun before you could get within touching distance of him, and you remembered Nami telling you how protective he was of his back. He raised his eyebrows at you.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked.

You arched an eyebrow back and held up the tart you still hadn't bitten into.

"You hungry after playing swords with my kid?" you retorted.

He shook his head, but you were standing close enough to see his pupils expand as you bit through the pastry to the filling, sweetness filling your mouth.

"I was not playing" he snapped.

"You cannot pretend you were not just playing with my daughter and ruffling her hair. There were witness, Roronoa."

Zoro snorted, fighting the shiver that rippled the length of his spine at the sound of his given name spilling over your lips.

"They are unreliable witnesses. You realise they're all basically certifiable?"

You swallowed and his gaze tracked the line of your throat.

"But I'm not" you said stubbornly.

Zoro sighed.

"I think salt's gotten in your eyes" he muttered flatly.

Your other eyebrow lifted.

"I think you've gotten in my eyes."

You watched his eyes widen a little before he tried to hide his surprise and play off cool, but the edge of his smile shattered the illusion and you bit back a shy grin before he shrugged his shoulders and turned his back on you.

You had just taken another bite when Nami snuck up next to you and elbowed you in the ribs. You yelped and eyed her.

"You like him!" she sang, smirking.

You felt heat rise in your cheeks and glanced away, chewing furiously. Usopp tore past you both and caught up to Zoro just before he disappeared in the direction of his room. He jabbed his elbow into his side, grinning profusely.

"You like her!" he crooned.

Zoro pinned him with a dark stare and shook his head.

"No. I don't" he said sternly. "You're all losing your damn minds. Not that you had much there to begin with."

He shoved away from Usopp, but he didn't get far before a streak of dark hair and patchwork clothes shot after him and launched onto his back. Zoro grunted, then hitched Amada higher to grip his shoulders properly so she wouldn't fall. She giggled and kissed him hard on the cheek before laying her head on his shoulder as he carried her deeper into the ship, ignoring Usopp's broad grin.

He was not going soft. He did not like you.

The shoulders of the sea heaved and rocked under the Going Merry and black rain and salt lashed the window mere feet from your bed. A particularly hard jolt sent you gasping upright, clawing at the sheet. A glance to your right told you Amada was still sleeping soundly; a week's worth of lessons with Zoro left her exhausted by the close of each day and a hurricane wouldn't rouse her.

You slowly slipped from the bed and padded quietly across the floor, catching your balance against the wall and the door frame as the ocean continued to protest your presence above it.

Only a few lamps burned in the ship's halls, so you worked your way into the depths mostly in darkness, the shadows flickering all around you.

You barely recognised where you were headed, your half asleep mind refusing to cooperate, but the moment you laid eyes on Zoro's tightly closed door, you understood. He was a steady structure in the face of a storm, and a nightmare.

You didn't knock, just turned the handle and slipped inside, reclosing the door at your back. As your eyes adjusted to the gloom, you saw Zoro flat on his back in the middle of his bed, one arm down by his side and the other flung up covering his eyes. He was semi dressed as he slept, a light cotton shirt open to just above his navel. A white sheet covered the rest of him.

You shuffled over to the side of the bed and eased onto the mattress, biting your lip as it compressed a little under your weight. But Zoro didn't move, so you continued, crawling over him before slowly, so slowly, settling your body over his, your head tilted on his chest so you saw as one eye cracked open.

You expected him to shove you aside, to throw you out, but instead he just closed that eye and shifted his arms to wrap around you, locking you comfortably against him. You turned your head to press you ear flat against his chest, the steady thud of his heart acting as a lullaby.

It wasn't long before the storm and your nightmare disappeared into the recesses of your memory and you fell asleep.

The heat of the morning sun woke you and you shook your head to clear it of the early brain fog, quickly realising you were not in your own bed and you were laying snugly on top of someone else. You opened your eyes properly and blinked at Zoro, who was already awake and watching you, waiting for you to regain consciousness.

"Hello, sleepyhead" he murmured, his voice throaty from sleep. "Nightmare?"

You nodded and tried to pull away, sit up, but he just rested his hand on the back of your head and stroked your hair, your eyes struggling to remain open with his touch.

"Don't like storms" you mumbled, rubbing at your eyes.

Zoro huffed a laugh and gave you an amused half smile.

"Really? And you live on a ship?"

You shrugged and nestled closer to him until the top of your head rested just underneath his chin.

"Nami rescued us" you reminded him. "I am grateful for that every day. A few storms are easy payment for feeling safe."

As if in response to your words, his free arm tightened around you again and he swallowed hard.

"Do you?" he asked quietly. "Feel safe here?"

You pushed up, shuffling to sit over his hips, and this time, he didn't stop you, just stared up at you, your hair falling forward to curtain your face. He reached to push it away, gathered it together in his fist, a makeshift ponytail.

"Yes, I feel safe here" you answered him softly. "I don't fear for Amada every day anymore. I know she has Luffy to protect her. She has you."

A faint flush bled into his cheeks and he blinked slowly, his eyelids suddenly heavy, but he didn't try to look away.

"I have you?"

The question was unsure on your tongue, bittersweet. But in spite of all his protestations to the contrary, Zoro hadn't even felt the crumbling earth beneath his feet before he fell for you. He did like you.

Zoro didn't give you a verbal answer. He just wrapped a hand around your nape and tugged you down, rising up to meet you halfway, his fingers branding your skin and his lips warm from sleep as they pressed against yours.

Your eyes fluttered closed and one of your hands found his jaw, holding it as if it were made of glass.

Zoro pulled back after several seconds and whispered into your skin.

"I'll chase away your nightmares any time, flower."

Tagging: @writingmysanity @elizabeth-karenina

[lonelylesbian2]

[lonelylesbian2]

Booping her about fifty thousand times so she knows I’m thinking about her 💕💕

[tokoyamisstuff]

Sweet Tooth

Homelander x GN! Reader

Summary: Homelander is a regular customer at your little coffeeshop, visiting anytime he craves something sweet - you, in particular. Warnings: Canon-typical violence, cussing, HL is horny and also a douche Words: 1,575

"Seriously, Y/N? Who the fuck drinks a milkshake at 8am?"

Ah, there he is. You almost got worried because he ran late today.

"What are you, five? Grow the fuck up." That said, the gruff man in front of you pulled out a few loose dollar bills, cheekily slamming them on the counter. "One for me too, please."

You smirk, putting the cup down after slurping it in one go. Ouch, brainfreeze. "Good morning to you too, sunshine."

That's what he likes most about you: Finally someone that can take a fucking joke. People he usually surrounds himself with are either afraid of him, or got a damn stick up their asses.

Communication wasn't really his forte without someone dictating the lines he'd have to say. But with you it came refreshingly easy, that back and forth was so enjoyable that he almost felt human.

"Coming right away" you chant, already busying yourself with the ingredients. "With how often you're ordering this drink, I should name it after you."

Homelander snorts at the well-deserved mockery, unable to keep his mouth shut since you look so adorable when irritated. "As you should, considering I basically fund this place."

"Hey!" you put a warning finger in the air, lighthearted voice earnest now. "I can tolerate a lot, but that's no joking matter."

Okay, the location you were able to afford was neither central nor in a remotely good part of the town. It was so small that there was only space for two tables, and the interior honestly decaying.

But at least it was honest work, and you did the best you could.

"With the new Starbucks across the street I'm basically bancrupt." Oh godfuckingdamnit, he fucked up. Homelander here to unwind, and certainly not to listen to you whining about your insignificant little life.

Maybe Vought should send you a check, though - losing this spot would be annoying.

Initially Homelander came to your café out of sheer coincidence, wanting to calm his nerves after his first encounter with Sister Sage. He took a longer stroll through some shady alleyways, hoping to run into some lowlife to rip apart...

...instead, he found you. A pathetic excuse of business and surely not even remotely close to achieving the American Dream, but whatever.

John had found himself entranced with the cheesy decoration, a desperate attempt to make a place like this feel cozy. He secretly admired people with the ability to make anywhere feel like home.

Well, the menu looked good enough that he decided to treat himself with something sweet as matter of exception - and now it had become part of his daily routine.

Things had just settled like this, with you offering him your sincere company while he'd cryptically vent about anything on his mind.

"Here: For my favourite customer!" you cheered proudly as you presented him the shake. "Made with extra love."

"Secret ingredient, huh? You're just nice to get an extra tip" he tries to hide the insecurity behind a sassy remark, but you instantly parry his claim. "What, why, because you're so generous? Nonsense. You're just lucky you're so cute."

It was no lie, really. John had a rough shell and wore his heart on his tongue, but you appreciated his honesty and the good conversations you shared.

As you were rummaging in the kitchen counter, he couldn't help but notice how you turn down the radio despite continuing to hum the song it was playing. He once told you about having misophonia, and how much he hates modern pop music. You actually listen to him, consider his feelings unlike the imbeciles he's used to.

"Woah, maybe tune it down with the sugar, darling" he thought aloud as you poured yourself a coffe. Damn, he needs to save himself after this one - but the only thing he comes up with sounded more like a backhanded compliment at max. "You're already sweet enough, don't ya think?"

"Charming as always, I see." Your face contorts into a mixture of confusion and amusement at his words, and feeling bold you turn around, giving a provocating slap to your own ass. "As long as the fat goes into the right places."

John bites his bottom lip at the sight of your tight leggings framing your curves too well. Yeah, that'd be a great place to dig his fingers into. Some cushion wouldn't bruise or make you whine if he'd become a little rougher. Shit, his pants feel awfully tight right now.

"You're staring." Seeing him being the flustered one for a change sure was a great feeling, considering that he was very aware of his own good looks. So you decide to get him off the high horse, playfully poking his soft belly. "Also, you're one to talk."

Homelander shifts on the barstool, closing his legs so you wouldn't notice his cock twitching in anticipation at the sudden proximity. God knows how often he had daydreamed about slamming you onto the next best surface and fucking you stupid.

"You really shouldn't be mean to someone that could spit in your drink." He smirks, a predatory glint in his eyes as he leaned forwards until his unfairly handsome face was just inches from yours. "Joke's on you - I'd savour every last drop."

The audacity. You physically fight rolling your eyes at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of reacting. "Sometimes I think you're the most obnoxious person in the world, John."

Liar, he thinks to himself.

Nothing is hidden from his abilities, neither your raised bloodpressure nor the scent of the wet spot forming between your legs. He prided himself on that fact. And yet you stand there all taken aback, trying to play coy. Cute.

Well, it wasn't as if you had no interest in him. He's been coming here for weeks and you're still working up the courage to at least give him your number - but he was so incredibly out of your fucking league that you never considered actually going through with it.

Homelander on the other hand decided he had let the opportunity slip for way too long already. Except for both of you the shop was empty as always, and even if it wasn't he wouldn't care. Hell, he'd already imagined what it would be like pounding you naked against the display window to show every passenger who you'd belong to from now on.

"John, I-"

"Shh" he hushed you, his silencing finger lingering on your lips. You pulled away, just to be caught by a firm hand on the back of your neck. "Tell me if I should stop - but we both know what you want me to do to you."

Oh, he's insufferable.

Honestly, you should just slap him and tell him to go fuck himself - but a primal need had already shut down the rational part of your brain. "Damnit John, will you kiss me now or do I need to fuck that shiteating grin out of your face?"

Shit, what's not to love about you?

"Hands up in the air you two shitheads, this is a robbery!"

Un-fucking-believable.

While you immediately went into panic mode, seeing a weapon up close for the first time in your whole life, John nonchalantly leaned against the counter, an aggravated groan escaping his throat. "Dude, worst fucking timing."

"John, don't provoke him-" He threw a hand up in the air, signalizing you to be quiet. "Stay behind and let me handle this, sweetheart."

You nod quietly, John shielding you with his body as you shakily paced behind the counter. A shot was fired and you shrieked at the sound, apparently the criminal wasn't exactly patient or he just didn't like your customer's tone.

"John! God John, are you alri-" Your words got caught in your throat as you saw the shell fall to the ground. Must be the adrenaline clouding your view, but there seemed to be not a scratch on his body. He winks cockily at you before turning around, using the lasers in his eyes to make a quick end to this before you'd involuntarily get caught into the crossfire.

"So, is the drink on the house or what?" The hero jokes unfazed after just having spread literal brain matter on your tiles.

You were still trembling when he squatted in front of your cowering self, reassuringly patting your back. This shit is like second nature to him, and sadly the little empathy he possessed had dulled over time. "I told you to stay down, silly."

As soon as you've calmed down to a certain extend, you pulled your savior's baseball cap from his head, revealing disheveled blonde hair.

"Are you the fucking Homelander?!"

"Can't deny that after what you've just witnessed" he answers truthfully, offering you a hand to get up. "Took you long enough to figure out, though."

Your strained pants turned into hysterical laughter, probably due to the shock. "I-I honestly have no words."

That means he wins today's banter, he jubilates internally. You could've been a little more thrilled about the reveal of his identity, though - but hey, you can show him your gratitude later on.

"Thank you, I guess." You finally release the breath you were holding, tension leaving your body as you collapsed into his arms. Police sirens could already be heard fast approaching. "I- could you please bring me home after the investigation is over?"

"Sure" he tries to hide his excitement, cradling your exhausted self against his chest. "If you don't mind, I'll take you to go."

[comfortless]

Syl, my lovely, please. I need to see this vision come to life through your words. Would König take his darling to the Ren Faire?🌷

VANI!!! my angel!! of course he would… König is a just a hapless knight at heart & it gives him an excuse to treat you like an actual princess! 🗡💕 i can not promise you that he will not force you to sit in his lap and play skyrim or something when you get home though…! /:

“Danke for agreeing to come,” he whispers to you once you’re out in the sprawling field, an abundance of colorful tents, partitions and others in similar dress surrounding the two of you.

It’s a lot to take in, as though you’ve been whisked away to a separate world entirely; the air smells faintly of fresh food, a bard strums a lute somewhere out in the distance, and… was that supposed to be a dragon’s roar?

König dons a veil of tightly woven chainmail, only a glimpse of his jaw visible, lined with prickly stubble. The rest of his armor leaves little glimpses of him, his thick wrist between cuff and glove, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he curls his arm around you protectively. If it were possible, he seems even larger wearing the plates of armor, far more imposing like this.

Tucked at his side, stands you in your linen bliaut, a soft woolen cloak dyed a royal blue thrown over your shoulders; a stark contrast from the shimmering and hardened armor of the knight guiding each of your steps with his arm around your waist.

König has to look at everything— marveling at the handmade objects and shiny, smithed weapons in each booth.

When you give him a quizzical glance as he ghosts his gloved fingertips over the angular blade of an exceptionally smart spear, he pauses his frantic admiration for a time to explain to you that it reminds him of one he read about once— like Odin’s Gungnir, fierce and proud. Even you take a moment to admire its craftsmanship, to which the pale blue of his eyes seems to light up; he makes the purchase without a second thought.

You find yourself enjoying the atmosphere, especially with that ever-present grin on König’s face; he’s in his element surrounded by fantasies drawn from history. It’s a nice change, seeing him so filled up with whimsy as he whisks you from tent to tent, buying you anything that catches your eye, taking your picture any chance that he gets.

You humor him, lifting your skirts a little when you pass between two of the fabric structures, hidden away from the eyes of any other grinning merchants, pretty ladies, and bellowing bards.

Seated in his lap he tells you of holy grails and swordplay tactics while feeding you from a dish on a wooden countertop, a pastry stuffed full with apple.

You only think to offer a complaint once you note the three now emptied pewter goblets of mead in front of him as König proclaims he wants to act out a proper sword fight with one of the others donning armor in the small, hastily fenced in area serving as a knight’s training yard.

(It was certainly a coincidence that the one he chose to spar with happened to be the very same man who offered you a friendly wave in passing.)

He makes a display of his swordsmanship, swift knocks and parries that leave your eyes wide as you clasp your hands over your mouth; even a prise de fer as you dig your nails into the wood of the shoddy fence. You’ve never seen him so swift, so brutal, as when he finally knocks his opponent into the dust, the sharpened edge of his blade pointed downward. Had this not all been pretend, you could imagine the bloodshed that would have occurred here.

Thankfully, König backs off, dips his head in a begrudging bow to his opponent before wandering back to you.

Your hand is pried from the fence, a kiss placed upon every knuckle as you praise his talents. He smirks, proud, and whispers to you something about how he had to show off for his lady. Even has the audacity to tell you that he would kill for you, and you knew very well it was not said entirely in jest.

When the sun finally dims and lanterns are lit, bathing the green below your boots in a soft, tangerine glow, you find yourself helping to loosen the straps of König’s armor. Poor thing had not thought to wear a proper shirt beneath, or.. perhaps, that was intentional. The sweat glistens off of him when you’ve tossed his dark top and curved metal into a heap, the curls of his chest hair sticking to pale flesh.

You rove your hand over him to dull the ache of those straps digging into his shoulders. He groans, contented as he pulls you up to your feet, leaning down just enough to kiss you, to desperately grope at your hips, your rear, before the strumming of a lute and the cheers and giggles accompanied by dancing fills your ears.

Attentions turned, you find yourself curling your hand into his, tugging him towards the feathery songs and shuffling of feet.

“We should dance,” you suggest, all giggles when you tilt your head to offer a pleading glance to him over your shoulder.

“Anything for you, meine prinzessin.”

[lonelylesbian2]

I agree ur not 5’4 kys

When did you last cry? yesterday, I reread a sad fanfic and it ruined me once again

Do you have kids? no but I aspire to being the cool lesbian aunt (my family may be a teeny bit 'phobic)

Do you use sarcasm a lot? noooooo I wouldn never

What sports do you play? I Do Not (unless walking around town counts)

What's the first thing you notice about people? usually their height, unless I get gender envy from them in which case that

What's your eye color? gray with golden flecks, looks blue sometimes green sometimes gray sometimes

Scary movies or happy endings? happy endings!! except I also love good angst, so

Special talents? procrastinating on all my work and then finishing it in 0.003546 minutes right at the end (I'm doing it right now!)

Where were you born? USA (appalachia), I love and hate it here

What are your hobbies? video games, cooking (sometimes), game dev, 3d art, being unhinged on twt about tragic cannibal lesbians

Do you have pets? no

How tall are you? way too (6ft + a couple in)

Favorite subject in school? I was "a joy to teach" in most of my math classes

Dream job? I dream of not having a job! but if given unlimited free time I would make 3d art & video games & shitposts & maybe the odd short film. basically I must create things

uhhhhh @painterlad71 @shaka6331 @torkmatic if you wanna

[stariikis]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 | 𝐧.𝐫𝐤

synopsis ; not much to say, just perfectionist yn and former perfectionist riki knowing just how to comfort you :') i need a bf

pairing ; fencer!nishimurariki x fencer!reader genre ; fluff n comfort, established relationship, oneshot wc ; 1616

inspired by ; labyrinth - taylor swift

You’ve always been a perfectionist, and you forever will be.

Riki, darling, on the other hand… you can see his smirk through your fencing mask as you gain a point against him. Feeling proud on your behalf. He, too, is prone to beating himself up for the smallest of mistakes, but his only soft spot is reserved specially for you. 

He grins, walking up to you on the piste and yanking off his mask roughly. “You’re the only one who can match up to my skills.” 

He always says this, and you never believe him. It’s only because I’m his girlfriend, that he’s saying this. 

“Hey,” your eyes go wide and your free hand — not holding your heavy blade, smacks his arm. “You don’t say that about your teammates.” 

Looking indignant, he chuckles and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “Fencing is an individual sport, though?” 

You roll your eyes. 

Gesturing for him to put his mask back on so you can start fencing again, you apologise to your poor referee. Your teammate and makeshift scorekeeper — Chaehwa — appears absolutely disgusted. Then again, she always wears his expression when she, quote unquote, has to “third-wheel you two.” 

She blinks at you, turns around to another teammate, and signs for “help” with her hand. “Save me from these two, please, Minjeol.” 

Minjeol laughs from the other side of the room, fencing jacket rolled up to her elbows as she crosses over the pistes. Taking a swig of her water, she comes up to pat Chaehwa’s back sympathetically. 

Feigning annoyance, you glance back at Riki and walk back to your en-garde line. Through the mask he blinks at you warmly, and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to your wobbly knees. 

Minjeol has apparently taken over Chaehwa’s position, probably to save her from the wrath of the most well-known couple in school fencing each other. The captain and the vice-captain, so perfectly matched that it shocks the students who don’t know of them. 

“En-garde.” You fall into the all-too-familiar stance. Riki does the same. “Pretz.” 

“Allez!” 

The rush of adrenaline that breezes through your body should have fuelled you enough to score a point against a very enthusiastic Riki. Should have prevented you from missing the chance to take his blade with your own and attack at once. 

You should have seen it on his face, should have realised his ulterior motive of not attempting an immediate attack. Usually, he’s waaaay too eager to lunge at you as soon as the referee starts the bout. This time, you foolishly believed it was a genuine fault on his part that he didn’t do so. 

But when you lunge forward in a fast and confident attack, Riki smiles devilishly and skitters backwards, giving you the illusion that he’s retreating. However, when you recover from your lunge and start to step forward, he parries your blade away and ripostes. 

It all happens in an instant, and you’re left stumbling backwards as he loses his balance and almost collapses onto you. Dropping his blade and leaving it hanging by his body wire, his hands jolt out to stabilise you. Breathing heavily, he unclasps his wire from the weapon and checks you for injury. 

“Are you okay?” He even tosses his mask to the side and grabs your shoulders in concern. His hubristic exudation — gone in an instant. His eyes scan you. His mind looks at you. It touches you so deeply that tears well up in your eyes and you stumble backwards even more. 

Now, usually your tears are out of self-disappointment, pure frustration fuelling the tears leaking out your eyes. You’d try to hold them back, to no avail, and Riki would come over and take off your mask, wiping the tears away just as you wish you could wipe away your dismay. 

And he does just that, with the belief that you’re internally reprimanding yourself for your errors in gameplay. His fingers run through your hair, slowly sliding off the hair-tie you used for your messy bun. An icky, sinking feeling fills your stomach when you see the sadness glazing over your boyfriend’s eyes. 

He may seem overly self-confident, but he sure does know the feeling of a bad case of low self-esteem. 

“You sure you want to cry here, my dear?” He leans down to whisper, thumb rubbing soothingly over your upper back. Though you had decided to wear slightly elevated sports shoes today, he still towers above you. “You want me to walk you to the restroom?�� 

He knows you so well, too well, it hurts your heart to even think. 

When you don’t answer, your chest feeling clogged up with the sobs escaping you, he unhooks himself from the piste, and then unhooks you as well. He drags you away from the piste and leaves Minjeol standing uselessly by its side. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs after handing you your Hydroflask and helping you remove your lame. “I shouldn’t have tricked you like that.” 

That’s what he’s worried about? That. That is so incredibly annoying. 

“I’m not upset about that,” you laugh, finally swiping away the last of your tears. “Really. I know it sounds like I’m lying but seriously, I’d rather you try your best than go easy on me. You know?” 

Nodding earnestly, Riki sends a charming smile your way before unzipping your fencing jacket. “Then why were you crying? I mean, like, you couldn’t breathe — type of crying.” 

You tilt your head but remain silent. And then it strikes you. As much as you were touched by Riki’s loving attention, you cannot doubt that you still have so much self-hatred broiling inside you, so much that now you can’t even tell it’s there when you break down. 

So much that Riki can detect your emotions even before you can. He’s not even a master empath; usually he can’t pick up hints of irritation when he teases you. But now, he’s either strengthened his sympathising skills, or he’s grown so used to you crying over every miniscule thing. 

“You know,” he slips your weapon into the blade cover for you, “I can read you.” 

It hits a little too close to home, and you flinch at how well he can read your thoughts. Following that, he still somehow has the audacity to ask, “penny for your thoughts?” 

Riki blinks at you, lips subconsciously forming a pout like they always do. It’s endearing and makes your heart ache endlessly. You don’t like this. You should not be feeling so down after every single training session. You’re the captain, for goodness sake. Your teammates are going to think you’re weak, sitting out every session just to cry to your boyfriend. 

”I’m fine,” you say, a statement you want to engrave in your mind. A promise to yourself that it’s really the truth. Because it really, truly is. “I’m fine.” 

Riki stares at you doubtfully through half-lidded eyes, but merely scoots closer to you on the floor. His hand reaches out to touch your knee. His lips lean in to gently touch your cheek, and you shiver upon the contact. Never has a training felt so warm and fuzzy. 

After the kiss, you glance around the room, relieved to see nobody is looking your way. Maybe they’re already used to it, or maybe they’re secretly spectating and whispering behind your back. Either way, nobody’s making the effort to bother you and Riki. 

“You know you’re doing well, right?” Riki whispers, so close you can feel his breath warm on your ear. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear, but can never ask to hear. But there’s still a lingering doubt deep in your soul. Ironic, isn’t it? It’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear and you still. don’t. believe it. Not one bit. 

He goes on, “It’s amazing that you can even see where you go wrong. Sometimes I don’t even know how I’ve lost my point, and it’s pretty embarrassing.” 

Pursing your lips to suppress a laugh, you mutter, “that’s your problem, not mine. Maybe I’m good but I’m not good enough.” 

“But you are!” A mock-annoyed Riki grabs ahold of your hands and brings them close to his chest. The genuity lacing his voice and the way his eyes go wide in an attempt to help you believe in yourself — you just accept what he’s saying without any further thought. 

What more is there to internally debate about anyway? If Riki believes, you believe too. You smile and he kisses you lightly again in return. If fencing is your hell, Riki is your heaven. 

“You ready?” Minjeol raises her eyebrows at you as if confirming whether you’re really willing to repeat the cycle all over again. At first, you’re hesitant, uncertainty swamping over your every sense. But when Riki comes over to test guard and salute, the warm, encouraging smile painted on his face helps you nod with confidence. 

“En-garde. Pretz. Allez!” 

It’s been a while since I’ve done this. 

You both charge towards each other, but you’re faster. A feign and a double-attack later, you’ve scored the winning point against Riki. The latter seems even happier than you for this, which is insanely cute to you. He walks up to you, mask already off and in his hands. Setting his aside, he leans to help you with yours and then presses a finger to his cheek. 

“A kiss for your biggest supporter and mentor?” He laughs boyishly. 

“Mentor!” You gasp, pretending to take offense. “Do you even deserve this?” 

You press your lips against his cheek, trying not to take notice of the way his face goes pink. 

Victory has never tasted so sweet. 

thanks for reading!! and yes, i'm a fencer. and they're using the foil weapon teehee

some terminology used that you might need to know en-garde, pretz, allez - words used to start a bout en-garde - french for "on guard", a stance with knees bent used by fencers lame - the silver electric jacket worn on the outermost part of the body riposte - an attacking action used after a parry

i'll take this time to promote my chaptered nishimura riki fic, you in the rain. if you're a fan of wifty or taylor, be sure to check it out! hehe

more of my works >

[roguishcat]

Clumsy

Summary: Tav has always been a little clumsy, but it was nothing too inconvenient until Astarion came along. Since then, whenever Tav’s blood would spill, he would be there.

Rating: Mature (nothing explicit but MDNI)

Tags: Blood drinking, dry humping, mild nudity, Astarion being terrible at hiding that he is a vampire, humour and moments of awkwardness

Pairing: Astarion x unnamed female Tav

One-shot, 3.8k words

Set in Act I, before Astarion confesses to being a vampire. An alternative take on the first time Astarion feeds on blood of a thinking creature.

It was mortifying and beyond ridiculous. Tav has always been a little clumsy, but it was nothing too inconvenient. Just the occasional uncooperative limb and misjudged step that had sometimes resulted in her falling rather gracelessly. And with healing potions readily available in the city, it was hardly an issue.

But then came the kidnapping, and the tadpole, and the journey. Suddenly, what was only a minor issue in the past became a real problem as her clumsy habits worsened. The lack of smooth surfaces that weren’t riddled with protruding roots and clutching vines, rock faces and the like, meant that Tav was constantly finding herself in a bit of a bloody situation. And taking on one quest after another whilst fighting off enemies certainly did not help one bit.

Yet, it wasn’t until they came across the abandoned blighted village that her clumsiness almost cost Tav her life.

They were ambushed by goblins, and it was during that fight that she stumbled backwards, almost impaling herself on her own sword as she landed heavily on the ground. The disgusting and pungent mass were quick to take advantage of that, one of the attackers taking a swing at her arm with a piercing shriek. She parried at the last moment, only the tip of the blade slicing into her skin. Then the goblin’s screech became a gurgle as he clutched at the arrow sticking out of his neck, the creature falling onto the ground and breathing its last. The rest of her companions made quick work of the goblins and then there was silence. A brief reprieve that allowed them to access damages and check up on each other.

Tav peeled her sleeve back with a wince to examine the long cut, hissing as it began to sting. She looked up when a shadow fell over her.

Astarion stood near her. His shoulders were tense, and his fingers were twitching, like he was restraining himself from something. There was a leaf stuck in his usually impeccable hair and his eyes seemed a slightly darker shade that normal.

Something was off.

“Can I help you with something Astarion?” she said wearily, seemingly thrown off-balance by his sudden appearance and the eerie, strange way he was looking at the cut on her arm.

For a moment, Astarion did not even glance at her face or give any indication that he heard her speak. His tongue darted out from a small opening in his mouth to wet his bottom lip. Then, just as suddenly as he appeared beside her, Astarion seemed to snap out of it, giving her a mocking smile.

“Really, darling? Is this biting tone necessary? Is this the thanks I get for saving you from that filthy goblin, hm?”

She looked away, feeling a little chastened by the comment and regretting being short with him. He did save her, and she was treating him quite abhorrently. But then Tav looked at her companion again. His eyes were borderline feral, once again trained on her wound. She fought the urge to run. Astarion’s nostrils flared as he sniffed the air, leaning over her, Tav’s heart hammering inside her chest at his proximity.

He slowly circled the injured woman, paying no heed to Lae’zel and Shadowheart as they bickered whilst the cleric got to work healing the wizard.

His eyes devouring her form, Astarion lifted her arm with almost reverent gentleness. The way his eyes traced the contours of her body and then snapped back to her wound made her breath hitch. Tav shivered slightly at the feeling of complete exposure. His eyes trickled over her face, carefully mapped the contours of her legs, slid over her waist, absorbed the fragile column of her throat and the gentle swell of her breasts beneath the cloth and finally came to caress her bloody wrist.

“Um... thank you for helping me, I guess,” Tav said sheepishly and pulled away, cradling her injured arm that was still bleeding sluggishly.

She felt his eyes fix on her face but dared not look up at him; she didn’t want to find out what those eyes could do to her.

“Be more careful next time, darling” he handed her a potion of healing, his words more gravelly than usual. And then, just as suddenly as he appeared by her side, Astarion vanished.

That had been the first bizarre encounter with Astarion but not the last. Since then, whenever Tav’s blood would spill, he would be there with the tracking precision of a beast. Her own personal blood hound. She was not sure whether to be flattered or concerned.

Each time Tav would stutter out some excuse for why she was bleeding. He would circle her slowly and inspect the damage like she was a piece of meat and then he would vanish. But not before dealing his favourite parting line, “Tsk, so clumsy.”

Tav blamed the tadpole. Because surely her senses became duller the longer their wriggly problem was left unattended? She also blamed the wilderness. Because she certainly could not remember herself kissing the ground with such frequency back in the city. And even with trying extra hard to stay upright she found herself landing awkwardly far too often. She also blamed Astarion. Because if his words and looks weren’t enough of a distraction, the constant featherlight incidental touches would definitely be the death of her.

Tav tried not to let her treacherous mind stray. She tried to focus on the matters at hand, that is getting rid of the tadpole, saving the Emerald Grove, rescuing Halsin, and last but not least, keeping her companions from murdering her or each other. Quite understandably, her smiles were becoming more strained as they continued on their journey and she could swear that she could feel her eye twitch whenever Shadowheart and Lae’zel, Astarion and Lae’zel, Astarion and Shadowheart, would open their mouths to have their daily invigorating conversations. And to top it all off, she was alarmed to realise that what she felt for Astarion was most definitely attraction.

Astarion would constantly make sure that he was near. Setting up his tent right next to hers in the evening. Brushing past her as she went foraging. Trying to engage her in conversation whenever time allowed for a short rest. And the best Tav could do for the sake of what was left of her sanity was lie to herself that she was not attracted to him in the least. She wanted to throttle him. She wanted to kiss him. And this was starting to take a toll on her.

However, it wasn’t until they reached the Risen Road that the Tav lost her composure.

Lae’zel was becoming increasingly sullen and angry, understandably worried that it has been a while since they got infected but there was little promise of a cure on the horizon. She lashed out at the slightest thing and Astarion was not helping with his taunting, catty remarks. The hostility between the two was coming to a boil and Tav was in no mood to entertain other people’s moods.

“Can I help you?” Tav demanded as Lae’zel glared at her for at least the twentieth time that day. They were sitting around the campfire basking in the last rays of the evening sunshine. It was her time to relax and unwind as much as anyone else’s.

“Chk!”

“That’s not a reply,” Tav quipped tersely.

“Fine,” Lae’zel huffed, putting herself in Tav’s space imposingly, “Your mating rituals with the elf are a hindrance and a distraction.”

“Huh?” Tav asked, a little lost and not sure how to react.

The other members of the camp winced and wondered whether taking shelter in their tents or pulling out snacks was appropriate. They chose to settle on the latter and stayed put.

“Don’t play innocent, you know what I’m talking about,” the githyanki insisted.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” Tav commented, “but you have glimpsed as much of his behaviour as I have, what in the world makes you think that I understand this any better than you do?”

“I cannot abide stupidity or feigned ignorance,” she growled, obstinately clinging to her belief that this was part of some peculiar flirtation between istiks. Undignified and uncouth as it was, it seemed to be proving effective, judging by the way Tav’s cheeks would flush, and her heartbeat would quicken whenever Astarion approached.

“Well, then you have my blessing to go converse with someone who is your intellectual equal. Seeing as you find us lacking, may I recommend a mirror?” Tav smiled sweetly.

Lae’zel scowled and stormed off, entering her tent and throwing the flap back into place roughly.

Tav winced. She really could have handled that conversation better. But she was feeling on edge and, quite frankly, a little tired from having to always act the mediator whilst everyone else bickered and fought with each other.

“I’m going to the river,” she told Karlach, pointedly ignoring the looks others were giving her. She knew that Shadowheart would be pleased by the spat between her and Lae’zel, whilst Gale and Wyll would look at her with barely concealed concern and disappointment.

“Sure, soldier! Go and cool off a little. I will take the first watch,” the tiefling nodded.

Upon arriving on the riverbank, Tav kicked off the wretched boots that were hurting her feet all day with about as much finesse as a drunken sailor after a night at a tavern. Quickly divesting herself of her clothes she prodded the surface of the water with a toe. It was cold but the night was balmy, and hopefully the cool water was enough to soothe her poor bruised and abused muscles.

Stepping into the river, she flinched as a startled bird flew from the bushes behind her. She supposed her annoyance was making her jumpy. Deciding not to think about it, Tav hastily dropped into the water and swam. For a second it seemed freezing-cold before she adjusted and relaxed, submerging herself completely and then resurfacing a moment later. Brushing her sopping wet hair away from her face, Tav started making her way back towards the shore to take her soap and shampoo. She made her way to the shallows and stood up. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her foot. Tav inhaled sharply as an unseen rock scraped against the flesh on her foot.

She dunked herself under the surface up to her chin and waited for the inevitable. Waited for him.

Astarion all but burst from the bushes that encircled the shallower part of the river. He caught a brief glimpse of Tav looking at him owlishly, her large doe eyes staring at him over the surface of the water. A moment passed, then another. And then she started to laugh. Astarion was so uncharacteristically dishevelled, with his eyes wild and curls not falling into place, that it immediately alleviated whatever annoyance she felt.

Recovering a little, Tav blinked at him, trying to suppress a giggle. “What in the world happened to you?” she asked, “I can safely assume you weren’t ambushed on your way here.”

Ignoring her last remark Astarion brushed his hair back and answered. “Well, obviously not. I was out hunting.”

“Of course,” she said, not commenting on the fact that he had no bow or weapons on him, “and you ran all the way here?”

“Yes.”

She saw the direction he took when he left earlier this evening. He should have been miles away from the river. Unless he deliberately misled them by making a show of going far away from camp, then choosing to take the scenic route instead of coming directly back, and going as far as possible from any big game to completely accidentally walk by the exact spot that she would be bathing at. She could scarcely believe that Astarion would do that. Except apparently, he did.

“What were you really doing, Astarion?”

“Trying to protect you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you are constantly bleeding, you silly fool!” He glowered at her like it was her fault. He was desperately trying not to give into temptation with this woman, but that was becoming near impossible!

“So, what does my bleeding have to do with you?”

“Oh, nothing,” he chuckled humorously. “But let’s suppose there are predators out there, my sweet,” he took a step towards her, and then another, beginning to tread water, uncaring that he was still completely clothed. “And your blood calls to them, calls out to be feasted upon.”

He was moving with dangerous, hypnotising grace, his movements purposeful and eyes trained on her. It was unnerving and exciting to be the sole subject of his attention.

“And let’s say, one of these predators would approach you at a moment of vulnerability. When you couldn’t defend yourself, couldn’t run away. What would you do then?” he flashed a smile that she could swear was all teeth.

“You mean like a vampire?” she blurted out, her eyes widening at the realisation.

She could have smacked herself. How could she have been so stupid, so blind? Astarion, no matter what he thought about his ability to conceal it, wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to hiding his uncanny vampiric ways.

He growled and she flinched but stood her ground. She may have been the clumsiest, most accident-prone individual in all of Faerûn, but she refused to be intimidated by him! Especially in the middle of her damn well-deserved bath!

“And you have come here to what? Suck me dry?” she flinched, belatedly realising that she could not have chosen a more unfortunate way to word this but choosing to soldier on. “Take advantage of me being alone and unprotected?” she hissed, eyes narrowing as she lifted herself above water. Modesty be damned, there was no way that she would cower before anyone!

“Because if that is the case, Astarion, I’m going to blast you to hells and back before your fangs get anywhere near my neck,” she promised. She didn’t need weapons to kick his ass and he knew it.

 “No, no!” Astarion blinked, taking a step back, looking at her a little sheepishly. “This is not- I’ve never-” he breathed out and paused, seemingly trying to find the right words to deescalate the situation.

“I apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you. But try to understand. I have never had blood from any thinking creature. And I’ve tried to control myself around you, I really have,” he said quietly, but what he lacked in volume he made up with intensity with which he confessed to the truth.

“Not once?” she asked, feeling inclined to believe Astarion in spite of the predicament she found herself in.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I- I was forbidden from doing so. Was taught control through pain and torture. But with how often you bleed… Let me tell you, my dear, being good has been quite a challenge and I found myself wanting… Wanting to have a taste.”

This was it. It was now or never. He knew that there was very little chance of Tav agreeing to let him feed off her, no matter how generous and selfless she was. But he already royally fucked up the conversation from the moment he showed up, so what was the harm in trying?

“Will you let me? Please?” he pleaded.

There was a pause as she considered her choices. She could scream. Her voice would carry far enough for the others to hear her. And she had no doubt that they would come running, whilst she could see herself fending off Astarion’s attacks long enough for Lae’zel to reach the river and run Astarion through with her sword. They all knew that she was looking for any excuse to do so. And Tav knew without a sliver of a doubt that even with their recent argument, Lae’zel would protect her.

On the other hand, Tav could choose to trust him. He did, after all, hold back all this time. Not once did he try to take advantage of her vulnerability. If he truly just wanted her for his meal, he could have let the goblins kill her and then had his fill. No. He deserved the benefit of a doubt.

“Not one drop more than needed, are we clear?” she was amazed at how calm she sounded, but disregarded the fact and focused on him.

“Really?” he looked taken aback, yet hopeful. “I promise. Not a drop more,” he assured her, taking a step back and letting Tav walk past him.

Astarion did not follow her as she walked to the shore, her feet dragging through the sand and making smaller pebbles descend into water as it lapped at her ankles. He heard the rustle of fabric next and assumed she was getting dressed.

Tav shot furtive looks over her shoulder as she quickly pulled her underwear, shirt and trousers on, but Astarion did not look at her once, giving her as much privacy as he could. Him turning his back on her like that could have been a prime opportunity for her to attack. He would have no way of preventing it. She supposed it was fitting for Astarion to show that her putting her trust in him was enough for him to return the favour.

“I- I’m ready,” she gulped. “But remember, take only what you need.”

Astarion turned, advancing on her slowly and stopping right beside her. He didn’t bother to hide the predatory smile that spread across his features when she backed away.  “Of course, darling! Besides, if I kill you, I doubt you will be quite as accommodating next time I find myself feeling peckish,” he grinned.

“So, what is going to happen?” her voice was getting more panicked as he crowded her even more and forced her to back up against a rock.

“I will feed,” he hoisted her up so she sat on the rock and moved himself to stand between her thighs “and I will try to make the experience as pleasant as I can.” His eyes briefly flashed, but she was almost certain it was the moonlight playing tricks on her frazzled mind.

“On my neck?”

“There are other places where blood pulses,” he whispered into her ear, “but I think we will save that for another time. When you are ready.”

A moan almost bubbled up and Tav had to bite her lip. It took a lot of effort on her part not to let the damn elf know how ready she was.

“This will sting at first, but it will hurt less if you try to relax,” he promised, running his fingers down her neck and laying a kiss against the spot he chose.

And then his fangs clamped down around soft skin as he bit hard. She tensed as she felt them puncture her flesh. Briefly she realised that it hurt much more than she expected and almost pushed him away, and then all sensible thought abandoned her.

There she was. In the middle of nowhere with a vampire between her thighs holding her neck in a vice-like grip as he took gulp after gulp of her blood. It was not exactly the way she thought her day would end. Fleetingly, she wondered if her clumsiness caused her to fall and bang her head so hard that she was knocked unconscious, and her mind conjured up the image. Was it a secret kink that her subconsciousness chose to thrust to the forefront of her mind? Not that she had anything against it per se.

Belatedly, her poor befuddled mind reminded her that losing herself in the moment could end very, very badly. Tav pushed against Astarion’s chest. He did not budge.

Astarion continued his onslaught, completely lost in the overwhelming sensations that almost made his knees buckle, the hand that wasn’t supporting Tav’s head kneading the flesh of her thigh as he ground against her centre with a whine.

It was pure bliss. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced and Astarion was absolutely sure that he would never experience anything even remotely close to this with anyone else. Her blood was something he could certainly become addicted to. It tasted even better than it smelled, something that he wouldn’t even think was possible. He could taste her arousal in her blood and that was enough for him to go borderline feral. And so he drank greedily and thrust into her, enjoying the quiet mewls of pleasure the act elicited.

Far too soon for his liking, Astarion noticed that Tav pushed against his chest again and realised it was time to stop. If he took anymore, she would surely not allow for this to happen again. And he would make damn sure that there would be a next time.

Very reluctantly, Astarion let her go and pulled away. Tav’s breathing was ragged and her eyes were unfocused as she put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. He gently lifted her off the boulder, steadying her before taking a step back.

“That was amazing,” he admitted. “Thank you. This was a gift. I will never forget it.”

He sounded sincere and, to his surprise, Astarion found that he really did mean it. This was the most precious, welcome gift he has ever got from someone.

“However, as delicious as you were, I have to find something more filling. Will you be able to get to camp without my help?”

She nodded and he was glad that he did not need to accompany her. The truth of the matter was that this was a thrilling and rousing experience in more ways than one. At another time, with a different person, Astarion would go a step further and offer to relieve the tension that they were both experiencing. He could tell that she wanted him, hear her sighs and moans as she got lost in him.

But now was not the time. He had to tread very carefully and give Tav space. That, and he had a very urgent, pressing matter that he would prefer to take care of privately. He knew that self-loathing and disgust would come, but for now he had his post-feeding bliss to distract him from being a prisoner within his own body.

“Oh, and Tav?” he waited until she turned to look at him, “try not to be so clumsy next time, my sweet. You never know which monster might want to go bump in the night.”

And with that he was gone. Satisfied that he was full. Satisfied with how the day ended. And on his way to satisfy himself in a way that he had no wish for in many years.

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[ravioli-fries]

Wally finds Parry Diddles old school photos </3 …