#even when its tagged nothing quite prepares you for the length of details these fics will go into

[mamamittens]

I think one of the greatest plagues to fanfiction and good writing in general is a phenomenon I like to call

"The Pain Olympics"

It's where a particular genre or fandom goes through their own little emo phase and now every MC has to fucking suffer for a sliver of happiness. And not just suffer either! Out suffer every other MC for as long as humanly possible, and then another few laps for good measure.

Look, I'm a slut for hurt/comfort. I didn't scrape the HP fandom clean several times because I thought Harry was cute. But like... Your character doesn't need to have words carved into their body or be sold into a child SA ring just to earn the chance to one day be told they're worthy of love. Or idk, hugged without ulterior motives.

No one needs to earn kindness or love through pain and suffering.

We can just... Have that. Without brutally torturing the character for so long I start to wonder if the antagonist is paying you to keep the torment going.

I pinky promise I can empathize with someone without them having to be waterboarded for sneezing past 6 on a Friday night.

Some people enjoy Grimdark (more power to them tbh).

But I know I'm not alone when I say that I read fiction for an escapist fantasy. Mostly.

There's whump (untagged or otherwise), hurt/comfort, and then there's this.

#even when its tagged nothing quite prepares you for the length of details these fics will go into #ive read little HP getting crucified so hed be adopted by Snape #or sold into prostitution to become soulmates with fred and george #on one occasion the mc was tied to a flag pole and lit on fire #i did not read past that

[buckysgoldenheart]

Unexpectedly Bitten

Vampire!Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Your ex gets into some trouble with Vampires, and his mistakes lead the bloodsuckers back to you. After seeing you, one vampire gets a little attached and he’s taking his time deciding what he plans to do with you, but whatever it is, you’re not afraid. In fact, you might just be a little attached to him too.

Warnings: cursing, smut, violence. (Count on spelling mistakes or repeating words too often. it’s very likely.)

Notes: Folks I did my very very best. I am so bad at chaptered fics, it’s insane. But I tried. As always,  Let me emphasize this: there is little rhyme or reason to the way this story is broken into parts.

This is a Vampire!Henry x Reader story where each chapter, while chronological, is a different conversation or event during the course of their evolving relationship.

p.s if anyone knows the maker of these gifs let me know and i will give credit.

Words: 1628

Part 4: Heartbeat

Henry had agreed to entertain you for the night, waiting a few hours before he left again to find bodies. You played cards, having nothing else to do, and chuckled when neither of you could figure out who was worse at the game. You’d shown him a new one; one your mother taught you that you never developed the skill for but thought Henry might find amusing. And he did, though he had a hard time understanding it. But you were just happy to have him around with a smile on his face rather than the more recent stressed out scowl.

“This game makes no sense,” Henry joked as he tossed his losing hand on the table.

“Not according to my mother, but she’s dead now, so unfortunately we won’t ever get private lessons.”

Henry’s smile dropped at your words and you instantly regretted them. “How did she die?”

“Um,” Your eyebrows pinched as you recalled the day you were left alone in a life where you already had little. “Bad deal with a witch.”

“A witch? Where did she even find one?”

“She heard the whispers and went where the rumors claimed,” You said, fiddling with the stacked deck. “My dad had died, and she thought a deal with a witch for his soul would be smarter than going to a demon.”

“I’m sorr—” Henry began, but paused the instant Chris barged into the dining room. His fingers tugged at his blond hair.

“What?” Henry asked just as a knock sounded at the front door.

“Elec.”

Henry’s shoulders tensed as he stood so fast the table nudged, and when you did the same, walking to him, you couldn’t help but notice how he slightly pushed you behind the wall of his body. “Now?”

“I saw him at the gate,” Chris looked from Henry to you and back, and answered the unspoken question hanging between them with a shake of his head. “There’s no time, Hen. He’ll smell her after the hours you’ve been in this room. Y/N,” He calmly said to you, “Keep your mouth shut, ok?”

You nodded, then jumped at the rumbling knock that had Chris heading out of the dining room to the front door a few yards away, you and Henry trailing behind. “It’ll be fine,” Henry said, but you weren’t sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

Chris opened the door with a deep breath and moved aside to allow a vampire, black-haired and red-eyed, to step into the entryway. He was built smaller than Henry or Chris, decorated in what appeared to be modernized attire from the 1800s, and had a confident smirk on his face that made your stomach turn. He opened his mouth to speak, but a quick scan of the room and a sniff halted him, and his blazing eyes connected with yours instantly as if you had some beacon above your head.

“Human,” The small vampire said, acknowledging your presence without shock or concern. Almost as if you were just an inanimate decoration in the corner of the room.

Henry moved a little more in front of you when he sensed you flinch from behind.

“And it’s still alive, how interesting.” Elec’s boney hand reached out. “Come here, pet.”

“Back off Elec, she’s Henry’s,” Chris said before Henry could let out a defensive growl.

“Why can’t we share the feast?” He said, never breaking his stare from your face. “I’ve come quite a long way, and we always used to share. It’s the least you could do for a member of the Lord’s court. Unless…” He grinned at Henry, long fangs poking out. “Unless you’ve become one of those vampires who fucks their food before they eat it.” He placed his scarlet glare on you again. “Though you are a pretty thing, aren’t you? I’d have you myself if you were like us.”

“She wouldn’t want you.” Henry snapped.

Elec rose an onyx eyebrow. “So, not only fucking his next meal, but very protective of it too.”

“What have you come for, Elec?” Chris asked, attempting to draw his attention away. “You haven’t visited alone in years.”

“Just thought I’d stop by, see some old friends, reminisce a bit…maybe share a delectable, little meal,” He wet his lips, “But since I am so blatantly unwelcome, I’ll share the bit of news I have for you and go.”

Henry ticked his jaw. “And that would be?”

“As the newly appointed hand of the Lord, I am here to inform you he will be here in seven days. Make your preparations. And be sure to eat her before he comes, or she will be taken as an offering,” He said, nudging his head in your direction.

Henry looked as if to protest, but before he could, Chris said, “Understood.”

“Good,” Elec spun on his heal, but stopped just before passing the threshold, turned his head to the side and said, “Be sure not to get attached to it, Hen. Think of the trouble it’d cause,” Then, “See you in a week, gentlemen.”

Elec stepped out into the night, blending in with the darkness as Chris shut the door.

“Do you think he’ll tell him?” Henry asked Chris, the grip on your arm you hadn’t noticed before now, tightening.

Chris rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know.”

------

“Henry…” You began, watching him stare into space. He’d dragged you into his room after Elec left as if the space between the dining room and the front door was now tainted with bad energy. “What he said--”

“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter,” He replied without looking your way. “You won’t ever see him again.”

“You’re worried.”

“It’s fine, Lamb, ok? I promise.” He wasn’t trying to snap at you; you could tell by the way he winced when it was too late to take the words back, but he was distraught and couldn’t contain it.

You stood from the bed and made your way over, reaching for this hand. He flinched unexpectedly when you touched him, like he had been in his own little world and the bubble surrounding him popped when he felt your skin on his. He met your eyes. “Thank you,” You said, lightly squeezing his fingers. “For defending me.”

He’d been cryptic after the day Elec visited; not answering the questions that would help to fill the blank spaces in your mind. But you needed those answers, at least for your sanity.

The worry he failed to hide from you momentarily melted away. He raised his other hand to your face and cupped your jaw, rubbing his thumb along its edge. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

‐----------------

You were too determined to find them that it distracted you from the book in your lap, and by the tenth time you’d reread the same sentence, you gave up. You stood, threw the book in the unoccupied chair with a little too much ferocity, then marched your way back to the spare room he was sleeping in while you stayed in his. You didn’t even think on it, didn’t consider what he could be doing, so when you shoved the door open without knocking, you immediately regretted it.

His hair was freshly damp, his body covered in little water droplets that traced the curves of his muscles as gravity pulled them down, with a towel barely held around his hips by one hand. He paused when he saw you and his lips parted in surprise, much like your own.

The flush of your cheeks matched the heat that now flowed through your veins at the sight of him. “Um…” You swallowed. “I—"

Henry sharply inhaled, but it was loud enough to shut you up and soak the room in silence, until he said “I can hear your heart beating,” His eyebrows briefly knitted together in a twitch of shock and confusion.

He wasted no time walking towards you, making you back up until you had nowhere to go. Bright, blue eyes never left yours, and when you were good and trapped, Henry dropped the towel without a care so he could place his hands on the wall either side of your body. You didn’t dare break his stare or try to run.

“It’s pumping awfully fast, Lamb,” He whispered with a twinge of awe.

“You’re…naked.”

“Mhmm.” He glanced at your lips and removed one hand from the wall so his fingers could graze along your cheek and jaw before settling at the curve of your neck. He didn’t seem to worry the way you did over his lack of clothes. It seemed to be the last thing he cared to waste a thought over, like it was the least important detail in what was happening between the two of you now.

“So that’s—” You swallowed. “I mean—"

“If you’re scared,” He moved closer, “Then don’t look down.”

“Of course I’m not scared of you.” You said so softly it was almost a whisper, suddenly unable to look away from the hypnotic way his lips moved when he spoke only to you.

“No. Just of parts of me.” He smirked.

“I’m not scared of any bit of you.” You tore your eyes away and met his own again. “But I need to know what’s happening. After everything, I still don’t know what you want.”

Delicately, he trailed his fingers up and down the length of your neck, stopping only to savor feel of your pulse. “Little Lamb, I thought…I thought if you knew what I wanted, you would run for the fucking hills, but,” He paused, slipping his hand under the neckline of your shirt to place his palm over your thumping heart. “Maybe you wouldn’t.”

---

Tags:  @agniavateira​ @tumblenewby @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @summersong69​ @starlite13​ @mstgsmy​ @purplelove75​ @defffcc​ @the-soot-sprite​ @kissthatlifeaway @atomicpaperhairdouniversity​ @aquariuslavenderhoney​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @the-problem-of-leisure​ @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair​ @readermia​ @angelofthorr​ @itmejado​ @caro-jean​ @raven-black102​ @itty-bitty-dancer​ @grungeisntmything​ @wolfiepirate​ @scuzmonkie @heartfullofl @wanderlustkitkat @maan24​ @furievonalexandria​ @posiemax​ @sweetybuzz25​ @iamthetwickster

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill angst #henry cavill fics

[ltleflrt]

I would love some more mean advice, I'm taking notes because this is a goldmine

lol honestly, the advice about not starting a fic with Life Story Infodump or Daily Grind Infodump is the most important thing I can think of. Since nearly all of the times I back out of a fic, it’s because of one of those two things.  Just about everything else I can think of is pretty minor and won’t make me quit reading.  But here’s a few things I think might be helpful just for giving a story some extra shine.

1. Minute detail of a process is rarely necessary.  Gloss over how something works unless the details have something to do with plot. For instance, if Dean is making tacos for dinner, just say Dean gets to work preparing tacos. Don’t talk about warming up the shells, or browning the meat, or slicing the veggies.  Unless it’s plot related. If Dean makes checklists and crosses things off to soothe anxiety, then those details are important, but make it clear that he’s self-soothing.  Or if Cas is allergic to onions, bring up that Dean sauteed them and added them to the meat, because Dean LOVES onions, and it didn’t occur to him to check if Cas has allergies before he started cooking, and they can’t be picked out, and oops the date ends with Dean rushing Cas to the ER, etc.  Otherwise, just say Dean had an hour left till Cas showed up for dinner, so he hurried to prepare all the taco fixings, and it took too little time so now he had to figure out how to occupy himself till the doorbell rang.

(btw, I would LOVE more first date ending up in the ER stories, everyone who reads this is free to adopt that idea lol)

2. Please don’t write an entire story in 1-2 sentence paragraphs.  This is rare, but it’s an almost instant nope out for me.  There’s this one story that I reeeeeally want to read, because it’s right up my alley, and other than the short paragraph issue, it’s well written so I keep trying but getting stuck.  I’m gonna have to copy it into a doc and edit the paragraphs and squish some stuff together to make it legible to my brain.  Like there’s a long stretch in the first chapter where every sentence is its own paragraph, and just.... why.  When you’re putting a paragraph break, there’s a mental pause happening in the reader’s mind.  And too many short paragraphs in a row makes it more like a really long poem rather than a typical story you’d read in a book.  A lot of advice says to not attack your readers with a wall of text (WALL OF TEXT CRITS YOU FOR OVER 9000!!!) and to break things up, but the opposite is also true.  Too many super short paragraphs is like Damage Over Time (THROW MORE DOTS, MORE DOTS!) and either one of those will defeat your reader’s interest.  Short paragraphs are a very useful tool, I use them myself for emphasis, but it can’t be your whole story.  Try to limit it to no more than 3 in a row.  If you’re going past that, take a minute to read those sentences and see if they’re related to each other.  Squish them into a single paragraph if they are.  Varying your paragraph length IS an art form.  Like writing music.  Paragraphs build a cadence, and staccato cannot sustain a whole song.  This can be mitigated by creating long compound sentences though, so keep in mind that the length of the sentence, which should vary, can make a paragraph feel longer, even if it is only 1 or 2 sentences.

(haha she gives advice on how to break up paragraphs while critting you with a wall of text!  good job, Carebear.)

3. The art of breaking up dialogue is just as delicate as the art of paragraph construction.  Too much back and forth without breaking it up with an action or an internal thought can make it confusing who is talking.  The rule of 3 comes in handy here too.  After 3 back and forths, put in something non-dialogue.  So it would go Character A says thing, Character B says Thing, Character A says thing, add some action/internal thoughts.  And just a he/she/they said tag isn’t enough.  IT IS BETTER THAN NOTHING, and depending on the cadence of the conversation it’s the right tool.  But adding some physical movement or a stray thought would be better.  That being said, don’t put too much action/thought between sections of dialogue.  If you put too much info in there, it can make your reader forget that there’s even a conversation going on, and they’ll get to the next piece of dialogue and be like wtf is this pertaining to again? and they’ll have to scroll back to the last line of dialogue to remember what was last said.  Remember, thoughts fly at the speed of light, so if you’re pausing the dialogue for some internal character thought, it’s happening in a matter of seconds, but your reader needs minutes to read and parse what’s going on.  Again, rule of 3, try not to do more than 3 paragraphs between dialogues.  And if you’re still not sure, or you feel like you need more so you keep going, read out loud from the last dialogue through the next dialogue and it’ll give you an idea of just how much time is physically passing for your readers, and you’ll start to feel the true size of things.

(WRITE ALL THAT STUFF DOWN THO.  If you need to get it out, then by all means, get it out.  It’s your first draft, and it’s important for YOU, even if a lot of it isn’t important for the reader.  Trim it in the edit. FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS, TRIM IT IN THE EDIT.)

(And the rule of 3 is a guideline, not a rule.  It’s just a good measuring tool that you can use until you’re comfortable enough to eyeball things on your own.)

Anyway, those are the only things that come to mind while I’m calm and not in a frothing rage over writing errors that are not mine to correct.  I feel like a huge asshole for vague-bitching about other people’s writing, and I profusely apologize for anyone’s hurt feelings if they read this advice and realize this might apply to something they’ve done.  PLEASE KEEP WRITING, DON’T LET MY WHINGING DISCOURAGE YOU, I LOVE YOU.

#ltleramblings #writing advice #writer's angst #darmysasagiri

[obaby-wan]

Unlawful

Summary: Anakin is still a novice and Obi-Wan goes on solo missions. That is until the Council gives him a particular assignment, and he requests you to join him - posing as a couple. You had not seen much of your close friend since he lost his Master, and the mission serves as an interesting reunion.

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jedi!Reader

Wordcount: 9.5k I AM SORRY

Rating: T?

Warnings: Hurt? Slavery, child trafficking, mention of kidnapping. Someone inappropriately approaches Reader. Please let me know if forget something. But otherwise rather safe, basically soft fluff with a plot(ish).

Notes: I’ve done it! I’ve posted my first fic EVER, thanks to @maybege​! This was her request for a fake marriage!Obi-Wan, which was a very scary and challenging and intimidating request given that it is the basis of her Play Pretend series, but I am overall quite proud of what I have produced. Naturally, any feedback is very much welcomed. Thank you!

Tags: @maybege​ @profkenobi​ maybe? If you have time and are interested and want to make a little me very happy but no pressure

You put down three cups and the teapot you had prepared, the smoky aroma steaming out from its mouth. Your life-long best friend Obi-Wan Kenobi and his padawan were seated across from you in your quarters, the young one still recovering from the training session he just finished with other younglings, his arms crossed and lips pouting. Obi-Wan has approached you earlier with a mission brief, suggesting - no, requesting, really - that you accompany him. Without his padawan. This earned you both a resentful silent treatment from him ever since said padawan has arrived and learned that he will not be needed. You, on the other hand, were internally as giddy and excited as Anakin was moody. You had only recently been knighted yourself. Your solo mission count was now steadily increasing, their success rate following the same trend. Yet, you still welcomed new assignments with the same eagerness you had in your early padawan days. Not to mention that this time, it seemed you will be partnering with your favourite Jedi master.

“Don’t look so frustrated, Anakin. Your first mission will come sooner than expected.” You smiled at the young boy, your words doing nothing to alleviate the frown between his brows. “Honey?”

He nodded in agreement, extending his hand to accept the cup you offered. You slide Obi-Wan his cup and put yours down in front of you, twirling the liquid around in an attempt to accelerate the cooling process. No honey for neither of you. Not with smoked teas. “Only fruited infusions deserve a bit of sweetness” He once told you. You had thought the words he spilled over your tea conversations were enough of a sweetener.

“Maybe I could come and pretend to be your son?” Anakin’s voice was small, hopeful. This pulled a laughter out of you and Obi-Wan, his smiling eyes meeting yours. The mission he was assigned involved infiltrating the court of a powerful king in the outer-rim, thought to be the general quarters of a slave trafficking ring. Young, underage slave traffic, to be specific, which explained why Obi-Wan would not let Anakin join. You wondered if he even told him about the nature of this mission. Your presence was requested to play to role of his spouse. The king was soon hosting his bi-yearly public exposition of newly acquired slaves, presenting them to potential buyers and you were to pose as a couple of such. It could have been a solo mission, but the king had a harem of wife whom the council suspected to be heavily involved in the court’s internal affair, and only women were allowed to interact with the spouses. That is why and where you were stepping in.

Obi-Wan shook his head, putting a hand on his padawan’s shoulder. “It is better you stay here, little one. Focus on your training. Besides, I believe you will be in possession of your lightsaber when we get back - and I expect you to be able to strike me down on our next spar”. They both smirked at the unspoken challenge.

“Is that true?” You took a zip of tea. “I was not aware you were already chosen to be in the next shuttle to Ilum. That is impressive”. The young boy’s chest puffed up with pride. “Master Yoda said it was learning too fast for the youngling group I am with!”

You glanced at Obi-Wan. Anakin building his own lightsaber meant he will have to take his training more into hands, relying less on common lessons with other young Jedi. Which also means that the time of his solo missions was short-lived and coming to an end soon. You were honored to be part of what could even be his last padawan-less assignment. Yes, this will definitely be an entertaining mission, a reminiscence of your mischiefs and adventures before you were both knighted.

You’ve know Obi-Wan for almost all your life, having arrived at the Jedi temple around the same moon as him. You were probably in the same crèche, although you did not have much recollection of that time. No, your friendship with him genuinely blossomed on the very same occasion that Anakin will soon face – the Kyber harvesting on Ilum. You were both selected for the same trip, the two youngest of your training group, and the two bests. A friendly competition ensued, which over time grew into a deeper complicity, unspoken rivalry trying to best each other’s records, pressed lips failing to suppress giggles when sneaking into the kitchen past bed time, understanding glances across training rooms when one would get caught and chastised, longing and warm reunions after your respective missions during your years as padawans and – support and understanding when he lost Qui-Gon, a dozen moons ago.

You had been the one to cut his braid off. You had taken the habit to keep your quarters unlocked for nights when meditation would no longer suffice to tone down the guilt and the grief he felt, preferring to spill his sadness to you over a cup of tea, burning his tongue on the beverage. You had watched as tears dripped into his cup, hoping the hot tea would burn away the sadness, too. He was grateful for your patience and comfort, always listening without a judgement. How he was unsure about being a master. How he did not feel ready to train Anakin. How he feared he would fail. “But fear is not the Jedi way”, he has whimpered in the dark, sitting on the floor in front of you, legs crossed, his forehead pressed to your knees as you sat on your bed. “No. But it is the human way” you had answered, your fingers slowly stroking his golden red locks in an attempt to sooth his ache.

You push those memories away. Obi-Wan has recovered, in his own way. He has slowly but surely gained confidence in his skills and his ability to pass them on, even warming up to referring to Anakin as his “little one” more often than as his padawan. The informality was not lost on you. The boy was clinging to his master like a young greysor to its mother, looking up to the man and telling him all details about his day in great lengths and details over dinner, every evening. Your eyes settled on your friend, realizing that it has been a while since you’ve got a chance to study his features with such proximity and you could not recall the last time you had been alone with him. You noticed how his traits have hardened since, how his hair, longer and now always neatly arranged, was now framing his mature face. He even started growing a beard, which you had not yet decided if you liked or not. His cerulean eyes met yours, and you couldn’t help but melt a little when you realized that those, at least, have remained as soft as you remembered. Anakin must be equally succeeding at painting more wrinkles and frowns to Obi-Wan’s traits as he has at keeping his heart tender.

“I am happy to hear that. I’m sure you will find your little trip to be insightful and… dangerous”. A spark returned to the boy’s eyes upon hearing your last word. He shuffled a little in his seat, his resentment about the mission suddenly forgotten and replaced with a curious fascination. You jumped on the occasion to ensure his mood remains lightened, a smug look on your face. “Have I told you about the time your master and I went to find our crystals, and Obi-Wan was afraid the dark?”

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Your destination coordinates where set into the navicomputer, the autopilot engaged. Everything was settled for the travel, and you both decided to indulge with an early dinner, hoping to be able to get a full night of sleep before landing at your destination. Obi-Wan headed for the ship’s kitchenette, opening the cooling storage and excitedly took out two packs of what appeared to be rye soup. “This is wonderful! I usually only get ration bars on these council ships”. He skipped back to you, face beaming, holding a box in each hand. He was met with your suspicious glare, lips tight together.

“Come on now darling, I only have to heat it up. There is no way I can mess this up”.

“Obi-Wan, I would trust you with my life, but allow me to doubt you on this one”.

You took the boxes from an exasperated Obi-Wan and headed back to the kitchenette, deciding that you will take cooking matters in your hands. Obi-Wan was… lousy, when it came to handling sustenance in any other way than putting it directly in his mouth (and even then). Burnt eyebrows and meals have been evidence of his previous attempts, and you may even have a scar somewhere on your arm, a relic of that time he believed the oven would be a safer cooking method. He had apologized profusely after managing to short circuit and set the whole thing on fire and had treated you with take-out from Dex’s every time you were meeting up for weeks after the incident. “If it still hurts, I can try to kiss the pain away.” He swore it was not just an imaginary balm for younglings, something about receptors and muscles and pain signals. You pretended the burn stung for days after you had removed the last bacta patch.

Once dinner was prepared and ready without having to call an intergalactic fire brigade, you both settled around the small and only table on the ship. Obi-Wan was practically lounging on the bench seat, and you were pleased that despite your high and respected status of Jedi Master, he would still feel comfortable relaxing casually around you. You set your bowls on the table and sat on the opposite bench.

“I have got to ask though Obi, why did you choose me for this mission? The council could have just assigned anyone else”.

You hoped the question did not come out as a complaint. You were more than happy – looking forward to, even – to start this mission with him. Although you knew that assignments from the Jedi council were usually of the utmost importance and highly serious, undercovers still help an aftertaste of game to you. And who better to disguise yourself with than your favourite partner?

“Well, given the delicate nature of our role, I would rather conduct this mission with someone I truly feel at ease with. Besides, I can’t imagine having to kiss Master Shaak Ti, if it came to that”. He laughed lightly at the image, raising a spoonful of soup to his lips – and burning the tip of his tongue on it. “I keep telling Anakin to be patient, but I daresay I cannot ever wait for my meals to cool down”.

You chuckled in response, hoping he did not notice the blood rushing to your cheeks. While you were glad he confessed to feeling serene in your presence, you had to admit you did not think of the implication of this disguise. You knew Obi-Wan well enough to be able to read him, and the Force could help you anticipate his actions. This would allow you to pass as long-term, close acquaintances, but how exactly were lovers behaving together, in public? How much affection must a crime lord couple display to pass as, well, a real, intimate crime lord couple? “We may need to go through quite a bit of details before we land. You know, setting our story straight and such”. He nodded, now passively stirring his bowl, his eyes fixing you intently. You averted his gaze and dipped your spoon in the rich soup, catching yourself realizing that you wouldn’t mind so much if the mission was to “come to that”. You made a mental note to strengthen your walls and empty your mind before landing.

“You must know, I am glad you accepted to join me. I haven’t got the chance to enjoy your company since you were knighted. You’ve made yourself busier than an old senator.”

You refuted his words, retorted that he was the constantly unreachable shadow, wandering between planetary systems and moody pre-teens. How often you went and knock on his door any time you were on leave only to be met with a locked door silently mocking you. He said that more often than not, he would meet the same fate (it’s true) and would try to fill his absence with little souvenirs he brought you back from his various destinations (it’s also true), leaving them under your doormat. You chastised him about it, complaining about that time he deemed wise to leave a bar of sweet-smelling treat in that specific spot, knowing damn well that colder days were approaching and the Temple had a floor heating system. By the time you had come back to your quarters, the bar was but molten goo and host to flowery mycelium. You complained about the mess it was to scrub and intentionally omitted to mention the blue box you kept under your bed, home to pressed flowers, amulets and other trinkets he has gotten you – you’ve kept every single one of them (expect the bar, which found its way straight to the waste bag).

Bowls were emptied, cleaned and stored away (Obi-Wan insisted on doing the dishes), and you both returned your focus to preparing the mission. Two travel bags and a satchel were waiting in your shared sleeping quarters. Digging through your belongings, you felt slightly anxious at the lack of neutral-coloured clothing and were met only with luxurious, expensive looking fabric with colours that would fit into any rainbow. You took out and set aside a long emerald dress and the heavy brown cloak, deeming them to be a believable travel attire to change into before landing.

Obi-Wan dug out datapads and a sealed, square box from the satchel. He gave you your datapad, which you supposed contained more details about the mission, and eyed the box curiously, turning it between his fingers, examining the object to find its opening mechanism. Finally, twisting the top part from the bottom of the box revealed its content; two rings and two identical pins.

“Ah, right. Married and crime lords” he stated matter-of-factly. He passed you one of the pins; it was golden and represented a wild bird, wings spread and embedded with precious gem stone. You supposed it represented the sigil of your imaginary crime syndicate, operating from the deep underworld of Coruscant, coordinating heavy weaponry and oil trafficking. Your cheeks blushed a little when you realized the rings where, in fact, wedding bands, and Obi-Wan has already slipped his on his finger, holding yours between his thumb and index. His other hand was extended “May I, milady?”

Your head jerked up to meet his cerulean eyes, a playful glint in their corners. You put the tip of your fingers in his calloused member. “I hope you have asked for my parents’ permission before so bluntly asking for my hand, sir.” He winked, running his hand through his hair to push back the growing locks. “I am afraid we are eloping, love.” Sliding the band onto your ring finger, the cold metal feeling foreign there, he added: “My dear wife.”

Somehow, your heart jostled a bit upon hearing his words and you smiled shyly. “Husband.”

Obi-Wan decided to meditate for a few moments before arrival. You offered he use the sleeping quarters for peace, as you wanted to go over the mission’s detail one last time in the cockpit. You must have dozed off reading about inter-rim smuggling routes because when you woke up, you were still curled in the pilot’s seat, a blanket you later recognized as Obi-Wan cloak draped over you.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

The outer-rim planet hosting your mission’s location was filled with luscious flora and where no greeneries grew, cities spread outwards rather than upwards, reminding you of a deceptive replica of Naboo. You landed in the royal spaceport, along with other foreign ships surely belonging to other “buyers” invited to the king’s exposition. Immediately upon setting foot on land, Obi-Wan’s hand found its way to the small of your back, then around, finally settling on your hip. So it begins, you thought. He met your eyes with a reassuring smile, giving you the confidence you needed to kick start your brain into immersing yourself in this new persona. You awkwardly leaned into his touch as the palace’s servant gathered your belonging, leading you to meet the group of newly arrived guest to the main palace, on the city’s rim, where you were all dispatched to your assigned quarters.

“His Majesty and his court expect all guests for a welcome dinner after sunset. He will be opening the exposition.” You were told when the servant opened the door to your room before handing Obi-Wan the keys.

The room, as could be expected in such milieu, was large, but decorations remained modest. Obi-Wan was already checking every corners of the room for anything suspicious when you were still taking in the beauty of the quarters. A thick deep orange carpet covered the dark wooden floor. A large mirror adorned a wall, reaching all the way up to the ceiling, reflecting the more-than-two-person canopy bed and its white veiled curtains. In a corner, a dining table and four chairs, in the other, a curved loveseat with white pillows. Another long plush couch was pushed again the wall under the window, next to the mirror, which offered an exclusive view on the forest surrounding the palace.

“Don’t even think of offering to sleep on it. I will not put up with you complaining about a sore back every morning”

“Actually, since I am quite larger than you, I thought I might be taking the bed – and you get this marvelous couch.”

You threw a pillow at him, and missed. “I do hope your fighting skills are better than your throws!” He set his bag down on the bed, claiming his side, his hand again in his hair, and your stomach sank a little at the realization that yes - you will really be sharing a bed, and it sank a little more when you couldn’t understand why it made you feel warm and shivering at the same time.

“If you steal the duvet, I will put my cold feet on you. Consider yourself warned, Kenobi.”

“Don’t worry darling, your body temperature is safe with me. Now let’s go for a walk, assess the surroundings. We have a few hours before the sunset.”

And then the sun set, and you had to get ready for dinner. You excused yourself to the fresher first, taking your bag, Fumbling again through the coloured fabrics with the same anxiety, you pulled out what you deemed to be the least ostentatious outfit offered – a loose satin grey dress, with straps so thin you were afraid they would snap at the first sudden arm movement, but at least it was long enough to cover the rest of your body. You put it on and stood awkwardly in front of the mirror, your eyes failing to recognize the reflection starring back. You did not like it – you were too uncovered, to bare, to exposed. This was unlike anything you ever wear daily, and the smooth fabric sliding on your skin felt too foreign for you to be comfortable. Turning around, you grimaced at how low the back was, now confronted with a literally visible underwear problem and decided against wearing one, cursing at the impracticality of formal attires. At least the cleavage offered more coverage. You keep most your hair down, still overly conscious about your bare shoulders, only twisting the strands that would frame your face behind your ears and securing them with crystal-decorated pins. And then you stepped out of the fresher.

And then Obi-Wan thought he died a sudden death and an angel has come to reap him. His mind wandered back to stories Anakin always rambled about beautiful being inhabiting the deepest corners of the galaxy and how they just seem to float in an aura than made them glow and he thought – this is it. This is his end, and you were his angel. And then only this last par was true, because angels aren’t reals but you were both real and ethereal and this was everything but his end, if anything it was the beginning of something he wasn’t quite understanding yet. He’s seen you before, but how has he never noticed you? You, the strong warrior he was practically raised with, now glowing in your silver gown, hiding glittering stars in your locks? If angels resided in the deepest corners of the galaxy, then he’s now found you a home in the deepest corners of his mind, and he knew he won’t be chasing you from there anytime soon – if ever.

You swore you saw Obi-Wan… blush? But before you could give it any second thought, his hand was holding yours and his lips were delicately pressed to your fingers and his bright irises searching for your eyes. Now it was your turn to blush. His other hand then scrabbled for something in his pocket, reaching for the golden pin with the wild bird and he once again whispered “may I?” before clipping in to the your dress, where the thin strap met the bodice.

“Is this all too much? It feels very inappropriate on me.”

“It’s beautiful.”

You wished he had said “you” instead of “it” but you gave him a smile and took his arm as you heard a knock on the door - the messenger servant sent to lead you to the dinner hall. You slip him your lightsaber, easier to hide under is loose clothes than your elegant dress. He opted for brown trousers and a deep purple linen shirt that he did not button all the way up. You silently admired your partner’s ability to just fit in anywhere, his posture straighter and more confident than usual (if it was at all possible), and his hold on you firm as he lead you sternly behind the servant. The jedi he is was well hidden under this new demeanor, and you did your best to mirror his expression, worried that you’d make your couple look underwhelming.

“Darling, I believe we have not talked about boundaries yet. The veracity of our act inevitably requires displays of affection, which I trust we both understand. But you must let me know if I ever overstep, as I may not keep my hands off you tonight.”

You nodded in agreement, very aware of the fact that he basically said he will be touching you – quite a lot. You were led through sun colored corridors, large windows illuminating your surroundings with the last rays of the dying day. Your arm still around Obi-Wan’s, you followed the servant out of the residential building, crossed a lush court surrounded by gardens and fountains and flowers smelling of power and credits into the main building. On your previous reconnaissance walk, you had noticed the exotic architecture, vaulted arches and high ceilings, pillars forming straight lines occasionally broken by mural ornaments. Everything was open, spacious and bright, but like your room, the decorations remained simple yet refined. Mouldings ornated each corner of the ceiling and the floor was a mosaic of orange-toned tiles. You passed by an atrium, open to the sky and home to yet another fountain. High class for an outer-rim world.

The dining hall followed the consistent décor of the palace. High ceilings and their mouldings and oh, – the whole ceiling itself was one big mirror. Three large tables were set, arranged in an open square formation. The atmosphere was already lively, and you were surprised at the number of people assisting to his exposition. No matter how hard the Republic claimed to fight against slavery, it remained a very much widespread practice in which too many lords seem to indulge. Another the thing that hit you – the women. You immediately noticed the contrast between the guests and the locals. The former wore similar attire as you, expensive evening gowns cut in noble materials (you winced internally as you realized that your outfit was indeed underwhelming in comparison), and the latter were covered head to toe in colourful fabric, long dresses trailing behind them, hair hidden under an assorted scarf. The different shape of their silhouettes betraying their diverse origins. They sat aligned at the table in the middle, two empty spots at its center, talking only to each other. The harem.

No other chairs were arranged, it will not be a seated dinner for the guests. You both approached the table on the left and when all guests have arrived and settled around the dinning arrangement, an old Zygerrian announced the king and his First Wife. Enter a tall, slim man wearing a long navy robe and a small, round, severe looking women. She was wearing a similar attire has the other wives, but the colour matched that of the king. He started his speech, something about lineage-long tradition of exploring and harvesting innocent youth across the galaxy to serve the best of the men and women. How he has mastered the art of finding only the best, most beautiful and promising beings and how excited he was to show them, how he will have them “parade” with his wives as dinner progresses, so each guests can get acquainted and take the time to choose their preferred match. Sales would be finalized at the end of the week and you wondered how choosing a slave could take so many rotations. You finally decided to pay a little less attention to the words and a little bit more to the people, your eyes scanning through the crowd for any interesting face, carefully probing them with the Force. You felt a little sick at the dangerous energy that emanated from the group. Malice. Greed. A little bit of fear?

You reluctantly left Obi-Wan to get you both drinks once the king finished his oration, glass raised and inviting the festivities to start. The reality of this mission sank in when hooded figures, too small to fit in, too young to be here, were brought in to the wives. All except the First Wife were assigned a figure and you noticed how each pair seemed to be of the same species. Guests immediately found their way to the drinks and sustenance before approaching the colourful covered pair closest to them. The man would always examine the subject as the women immediately started talking to the wife, and you understood your purpose in the mission. You could not shake away the nausea slowly building up in your stomach as you strayed through the crowd, eavesdropping on bribes of conversation, glancing each time a buyer your lift the hood off a little figure, revealing little boys and girls, face too round, eyes too wide, soul too pure to be put in this situation. Trying not to overthink their origin and breathing your distress out, you were making your way back to your fellow Jedi, two ruby wine glasses in your hand when:

“I am surprised someone in your youth would already be looking for another toy. Aren’t they too young for you?”

You turned around and were met with a handsome man, visibly an unaccompanied guest. You did not fully understand the meaning of his words, but you observed he was roughly your age.

“I am not quite sure what you mean sir, but I suppose I could address the same question back to you?”

“A man never has too many toys”.

The way he said it, his tone, sent a shiver down your spine and you crossed your arm to hide the goose bumps you could feel rising your hairs there. He flashed you a smile, all teeth and undeniably, dangerously charming, and you smiled back curtly, every fiber of your being screaming at you to turn around and cut the conversation short. You were starting to get an idea of what was really going on at this auction and you did not like it one bit.

“However do you mean by that?”

He stepped closer to you, taking one of the wine glasses from your hand, shamelessly taking a long sip of it. You straighten your posture, refusing to break his stare with a blink. Against your better judgement you readjusted a stand of hair behind your ear, bringing your own glass to your lips.

“Look around, my dear. We are about two decades younger than most buyers here, surely we must be seeking different things from them.”

“And what is it that you seek?”

Another sip of wine. His eyes bore into yours.

“Pretty things.”

And before you could answer, Obi-Wan has found you, his hand back to its place again on the small of your back. He was followed by by a pair of Togrutas, a veiled wife wearing light blue garments, her hand on the shoulder of a little Togruta girl, dressed in similar colours, eyes fixed on the floor.

“There you are my love. I need you to officiate my study of this young girl.” Then, turning to the lad beside you, “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

You all introduced yourself, and Obi-Wan stiffened when Perry, from Cantonica, bowed and managed to brush his lips against your knuckles, holding your hand a second too long to his liking. He reinforced his grip on you. You were already too close to him when he spotted you, and he did not miss the way Perry’s eyes crudely wandered over your figure. He nudged you towards the waiting Togruta pair, and you began asking questions you believed slavers would ask – her age, her health, strengths and weaknesses. The wife answered patiently answered, her eyes never leaving your face and her hand never leaving the girl. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Obi-Wan kneeling down in front of the girl and his hand moved to examine her limbs and montrals. To an outsider, he would seem like a natural, but you saw has his touch was firm but gentle, and how he seemed to softly ask permission to the little girl before moving to another body part. Obi-Wan’s heart broke a little when she only nodded in agreement, her lifeless eyes never leaving the floor. Perry was still observing you in silence, his eyes curiously darting between Obi-Wan and you. Finally, he released the little girl and you thanked her matrona.

“I see you are unaccompanied. Given the situation, I will be happy to lead an interaction in your name.”

“I will be happy to just join you in your meetings, if you’ll allow me.”

You seeked Obi-Wan’s eyes for approval and he nodded. The evening continued like this for a while, the three of you alternating between the buffet and meeting other younglings, some more talkative than others, and you mediating the interactions, repeating the question the men were asking directly to the matrona, who would only answer to you. Perry seemed to take a particular interest in two of the older ones (you tried not to gag), and Obi-Wan chose a little Twi’lek as fake target. You noted that the little boy reminded you of Anakin. Some of the kids surely originated from the core planets, noticing a Pantoran, and you wondered how the king managed to have such a broad diversity. Not that you’d know much about slave trade, but you were still surprised. By the time the event drew to its end, both your mind and body were exhausted, and when Perry tried to drag Obi-Wan into a private game of Sabacc in the king’s quarters, you nudged him to go (for more information, you whispered softly). Perry noticed how you hastly took your leave, excusing yourself for the evening.

“Do you not kiss your wife goodnight, Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes met yours, unsure what to do, trying to fight the urge to just slam his lips against yours and giving in to the temptation to explore your skin, drawing constellations along the trail of his mouth on your neck, but not daring to without consulting you.

“Only in the privacy of our room.”

He still pulled you close on last time and his lips brushed your temple, inhaling your sweet scent. You tried to ignore your disappointment. He didn’t want to let you go alone, and there was no way he could discretely slip your lightsaber back to you. But you were a resourceful women and he trusted you to make it back to the room without incident. As you left the main building, you spotted a group of the wives discussing around the fountain, seemingly more relaxed and joyful than they were in the dining hall. Their conversation died and a stern look settled on their faces as you approached, asking if you could join them. With a little use of the force to sooth any distrust, you managed to ease into their discussions, hoping that the wine that flowed this evening would loosen tongues and appease suspicions.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Your mind was wandering on the sharp edge between awake and asleep when Obi-Wan came back to your room, tiptoeing his way across the entrance. You had let his bedside lamp dimly lit for him, and you observed quietly as he removed his shirt, his bare chest and their red hair and taut muscle on full display for you. Has he noticed you were awake? You felt guilty for prying, like you were witnessing something deliciously illicit, but the way his skin seemed to gleam under the dim warm light, shadows only enhancing his features, how he look strong yet tired and vulnerable had something too mesmerizing for you to tear your eyes away.

Of course he had noticed you weren’t sleeping, but he wasn’t going to let you feel embarrassed for starring. Besides, he couldn’t resist putting on a little show, one last treat to end this tedious day before slumping next to you. But as he was pulling his shirt above his head, he suddenly felt self-conscious about his nakedness, and decided to quietly disappear into the fresher. You were right, joining the Sabacc tournament gained him access to exclusive information, some he could easily pull out from drunken lords, gladly taking hints he was dropping to steer the conversation the way he wanted to. He had so much to discuss with you, but for now he had to focus on getting the smell of spirit off his scent and getting himself into bed with you. That last part was making him more anxious than having to face a tantrum-throwing Anakin, and despite the late hour, he opted for a quick shower.

Clean and absolutely worn out, he silently slid under the duvet next to you, careful not to wake you up. You were really sleeping now, your back facing the edge of the bed, your breathing soft and steady. He took one last look at you before turning the light off, how your lips were slightly parted and pouty, and your chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. How your hair framed your beautiful face, and he chastised himself once more for not looking at you earlier, for taking so many years to realize what he had just here, right in front of him, and how he didn’t know what to do with it. It – the fuzzy feeling in his stomach that did not seem to settle since you landed but only to grow in intensity as he could not peel his eyes off you the whole evening. And when he fully put his weight down on the mattress, you shifted a little bit closer to him, your warm radiating under the blanket and he thought he might suffocate when he noticed how small the straps of your nightdress where, and he couldn’t help but wonder how soft you must feel if he were to hold you, but then your leg brushed his and he scooted just a millimeter more against you.

“Good night, little one.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………

It was in a silent mutual agreement that you both ignored the fact that when you woke up this morning, your legs were tangled together, his arm somehow found their way across your middle, your head resting in the crook of his neck, and he stole an innocent kiss from on your forehead when you were still weary. It was in a silent understanding that when you got dressed and went down for breakfast, the hands you held with each other was nothing but another façade, another prop to the act you play. At least, that’s what you both tried to convince yourselves with. That was why the overall you chose this morning was a little bolder, red, mind you, and the cut twice as deep, this time both in the back and the front. The visible underwear problem remained and at this point you gave up on wearing any. The bodice hugged your curves in all the right places (he tried very hard not to stare), the wide bottom pants flowing around your legs despite the thicker material. On the practical side, it had pockets, and the looseness of the pants allowed you to strap your lightsaber to your inner thigh. That was also why, like yesterday, Obi-Wan secured the pin to your strap, his fingers lingering a moment longer on your collarbone, a subtle caress to the skin above your breast.

“It’s the wives” you say later, your voice low, briefing him on your findings from the previous night while munching on some local fruit. “Did you notice how they are all from different worlds?”

“The king steals them from their home. People he deals in business with, or poorer, farther-rim systems. He offers protection to whoever is the sovereign there. In return, they have to give up their first daughter as wife, or son as slave – I don’t know what is worse. And they have to send two child here each year, a boy and a girl, elected by their people as the most beautiful.”

“I can’t believe such an elite slave trade exists with such young ones. The younglings are to be auctioned. It starts tonight. You can already place your bid with the respective matrona. Most buyers are from the core planets too.”

“They must hold a record somewhere.”

“The First Wife. She coordinates everything. She should have an office. And Obi-Wan, we might want to sneak a matrona back to Coruscant as witness – not all of them want to be here nor agree with this. Stars, Anakin would hate this place.”

He nodded approvingly, his look shutting you up as Perry appeared in your line of sight with the First Wife. She greeted the both of you, saying she insisted on meeting each customer personally, asking about if you’ve already spotted any preferred candidate, and what kind of leverage you were interested to offer up as deposit to secure a higher chance of acquiring them. You kept your answers short, ignoring Perry’s eyes on you, mentioning the young twi’lek, and a shipment of unrefined oil and spice, lying perfectly when needed and sticking to the cover story the Council had prepared. But then:

“I couldn’t help but overhear – who his this dear Anakin?”

You felt Obi-Wan tight tense up under where your hand was. You sent him a reassuring nudge through the force, putting on your most tender smile and said:

“Our son, your Majesty. He is ten.”

“Ah, then you might be interested in our little Saya. She’s a bit younger, human, but it’s good to have them match a younger age. Makes them more malleable, you know? I will have her matrona and her meet you tonight.”

You thanked her politely, saying you will need to discuss the matter with your husband first but appreciate the gesture. She updated you both on the activities the king has had organized for the guests; a visit of the baths for the females, a hunting game for the males, and left, moving on to the next table. Obi-Wan was admiring your quick wit, growling after Perry’s insistent gaze on you, at the fact you will again be separated, and you were still processing the interaction.

“Brides,” you whispered in horror. “They’re selling the girls as child bride, Obi-Wan.”

His hand squeezed yours in understanding, and you both decided to head back to your room to discuss your next plan of action – getting evidence. Tonight.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

When you got back to your room after hours dipping in various bath waters, Obi-Wan had scrambled a note that they had come back early from the hunt and already had to join the dinner party. You took yet another shower today – who could have thought so many different baths existed? Mud, sea salt, ocean salt, dead salt (whatever that was). This night, you opted for a an exquisite chiffon blue dress (his favourite colour), again with an open back (you both secretly enjoyed when his fingers absentmindedly caressed your skin there) with a slit high on your leg (but not high enough to reveal your saber) and your hair tied in a high bun (maybe his fingers will wander to your neck too) and when you left your room that evening feeling like a million credit, you arrived at the window where we was waiting for you in the hall just in time to catch the sunset.

“It’s beautiful.” You said as you reached his side.

And despite the horrific truth behind the mission, and the exhausting day he just had putting up with the other crime lords talking about the slaves like lifeless objects, he thought you must have been bathing in the very same sunset because when he replied with “yes, beautiful” it was you and not the window he was looking at. His knuckles again found their home on the skin on your back (you screamed a little inside) and you could feel his chest pressed into your side, his warmth welcomed on your bare flesh. And then his breath against the back of your ear, the ghost of his lips barely brushing against your pulse.

“I like it.”

“What?”

“Your beard. I wasn’t sure before, but I’ve decided I like it.”

“Oh. Anything else you’ve decided to like about my body in my absence? Perhaps I could give you a tour?”

“Obi-Wan,” you gasped, amused. “Are you flirting with me?”

A light chuckle escaped his lips before they found their way to the soft skin behind your ear again. “Perhaps.” His voice was sweet, teasing. “What kind of husband would I be if I did not woo my beloved wife every now and then?” His lips dipped lower to the crook of your neck and pressed a chaste kiss there, his stubble deliciously burning your skin. You turned around, hiding your shiver. His impossibly deep cerulean eyes were smiling at you, and you swore you saw them trail down your cleavage first and you rolled your eyes at him behind your lashes. His cheeks were flushed, a smug smile spread across his face. You really wanted to feel those lips on your too, now. Thinking of something to do to break this tension that surely you weren’t the only one feeling, your hands went to readjust the collar of his tunic.

“While I do highly enjoy this, I need you focused, Kenobi.”

“Given how little I can do without your presence with the wives, and the drinks I was peer pressured into drinking, I might let you take the lead tonight.”

You made a point to tease him about it the whole evening when guests were called, and like last night, the matronas were already aligned with their protégés. Unlike last night, the atmosphere was tense, and you could already see quarrels rising when two buyers started bidding wars for a same subject. You refused the drinks the servants were offering (one of us has to stay sober, you said with a wink) and led Obi-Wan to the little twi’lek from yesterday. Speeches were made, more bid placed, food served, live music played and peoples have started dancing when Obi-Wan excused himself to the fresher (your skin burned where his had was resting this whole time). Perry approached you.

“Will the lovely lady grant me this dance?”

With no valid reason to excuse yourself, you had to accept. Immediately, his hand was too low on your back and his grip on your hand too tight, his breath smelling heavily of spirit. “Your husband is very protective of you”. You did not like the way he whispered into your ear; too close, too wet. “Would not agree to share you – and I’ve never heard prices go this high.” You tried to pull away a little, but he only pulled you closer, his hand now even lower. “Did he tell you I killed the largest game today, hm? I shall deserve a prize for this, don’t you think, pretty thing?”

You were about to get back to him, ready use some force to get out of his grip if you must.

“That’s enough.”

Obi-Wan was back between the two of you, jaw clenched and eyes dark, his voice deep and threatening. You took advantage of this distraction to untangle yourself from your unwanted dance partner, who gave you both a polite nod, an irritating smirk never leaving his face before leaving.

“Are you alright little one?” His hands were cupping your face, thumbs tracing circles on your cheeks. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch.

“Drunken men and their wandering hands aren’t enough to upset me, Obi-Wan.”

“My brave girl.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead, pulling you closer to him. Your heart skipped a beat at the praise.

“What’s the trouble?”

“These men –“ he looked around, “tried to bid to have you, all day. Perry was the most insistent.”

“And?”

“No one will lay a hand on your as long you are mi- you are with me”.

He wanted to say mine. “You are mine”. Because you were, and you knew it, but he would not dare to call you as such yet. You said nothing and placed one hand on his shoulder, taking his hand in the other. He picked up on your unspoken requests, balancing his weight on his legs, and soon your head was resting on his chest as he tried to clumsily lead you to the rhythm of the music, trying to follow a melody neither of you knew. He may have stepped on your feet once or twice, but you didn’t mind. You looked up to his face and his gaze was already on yours, and your hand went from his shoulder to the back of his head, pushing it down to your neck because you couldn’t stand him looking at you like that without your stomach doings somersaults.

You looked up to the ceiling, the large mirror reflecting the dining hall, a whirlwind of people and tints and tones tangled together, mixed into an incoherent splatter of colours that made you dizzy. You tried to spot your own reflection, wondering what you’d look like in his arms, but you couldn’t make out a single face in the mist of the dancing crowd.

What you did spot, however, was the First Wife, her bright golden reflection standing out from the crowd, slightly apart. And then it clicked, and you were back in the present moment. The mission. The girls. The records. You whispered in his ear, your voice tinted with urgency.

“She spies on people. The mirror. We can’t wait until the end like we planned. We must slip away while the room is still full, it will make it harder to spot us.”

He agreed silently, and with a few more steps and twists and turns, gradually led you through the mass of dancers, towards to back door, and when you were far enough, you waited for that beat, that moment to sneak out of the dining hall in silence. Obi-Wan produced a computer system key from his pocket and lead you through corridors and stairs. “I spied on her when we got back earlier. Her quarters are above the halls,” he explained. And that where you went. You hoped his inebriety has lowered and kept your senses in alert as you arrived in a pink clay corridor, in front of a large wooden door. You trusted Obi-Wan that this was the right place, and when you found the control panel, he gave you the system key. You were fast enough, and with a little bit of guidance from the Force, managed to unlock the door.

“Be quick,” you whispered, and he slipped into the office, leaving you to guard the passage.

And he was quick, reappearing with a triumphant smile, slipping what appeared to be a holochip under his tunic. You proceeded to attempt to close the door, only for it to get stuck half way. To make matter worse, you could hear footsteps coming down the corridor, approaching at a steady pace. Calling on the Force to keep you grounded, you focused on the key turning in the panel, aware of all the notches position it went through. Then the door closed and locked, just as the footsteps were reaching you, a flash of golden yellow hinting something bad, and before you could think, you grabbed Obi-Wan’s hand and pulled him to you, pressing your back to the wall, your dress covering the still open control panel.

“What are you doing?”

“Covering us.”

You put your arms around his neck and pulled him for a kiss. He didn’t react at first, slightly dumbfounded and taken aback, but once he caught up to your thinking he snaked his arms around your waist and pressed himself further against you. His lips responded to your, engaging them in a silent conversation that only grew more heated at you heard the footstep stop. Your heart must have also stopped too, and you weren’t breathing anymore, too aware of the pair of eyes on the two of you, too excited by the tongue that was now requesting entrance to your mouth, and you granted. Conversations turned into a dance, tongues trying to dominate the other, teeth grazing and nipping at lips. You closed your eyes, this was all too much. And then he moved down to your neck, his tongue laving at the skin there, tracing kisses into a pattern down to your shoulder. You felt his hand reach behind you, down your leg, his body following his movement and his lips now nipping at the side of your arm. A slight tug on your dress, and he was reaching back up, his hand now dipping beneath the slip of your dress, pulling your leg to hook it around hip. His fingers kneaded the skin on your inner tight, and you gasped at his audacity, but when you felt something cold pressed again your skin, you realized he had removed the computer system key and secured it to your strap, next to your lightsaber.

You heard the footsteps again, their echo a diminuendo as they departed. And Obi-Wan heard it to, but he did nothing to pull away, and you did nothing either. Instead, his ministrations toned down, growing softer, turning into tender nipping at your jaw, timid kisses on each corners of your lips. You slowly withdrew your leg from his side and he sighed at the absence of contact. You kept your eyes shut, knowing that if you were to open them, the blue gaze that would meet you will be your end. So you waited until he relaxed his grip on your waste, his teeth grazing your skin one last time, and there was nothing left of the two jedi on a mission but panting bodies and hungry stares and cheeks flushed with blood and intertwined fingers. Then a scary thought crossed your mind – this meant nothing, this was just a cover, and you turned your face away, gently pushing him back. He released you, trying to regain his composure. You kicked the door of the control panel closed, and when you looked back at him, nothing on his face betrayed the events that just transpired – not even wet lips. He was all serious eyes and stern face, and you both agreed to head back to your quarters to contact the Council immediately.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

The holo-records Obi-Wan stole were sent via a secure pulse transmission to the council, which revealed that numerous high placed personalities from Republic planets were involved in this slave ring. The Senate thus took the matter in their hands, deciding to send their law reinforcement for arrests before the sales would be concluded at the end of the week. Obi-Wan and you were to leave the premises before things got dirtier, and a few standard hours later, you were both back in your Jedi robes, all lavish make-up and attire stored away in their original travel bag, like a circus would fold up its tent after a show. You stayed silent as Obi-Wan typed in the coordinated back to Coruscant, drawing your legs up to your chin in the co-pilot’s chair.

You turned the wedding band around your finger, the last piece of your costume you had not gotten yourself to remove yet, thoughts wandering around the symbolism and the implications that came with such a small piece of metal. Obi-Wan sensed your inner turmoil and, the autopilot engaged, turned his chair to face you, taking your hands in his.

“What is it, love?”

“The band. It is strange to think that two people fall in love, and the whole foundation of their trust, their intimacy, everything they share is held like a promise on one finger, and taking this away means taking everything away.”

“Very much like us, our lightsabers and the Order. It is but another token to a lifetime commitment.”

“We commit to a code, to a place, a lifestyle and the Force. But do we ever really commit to anyone? I feel like a fraud wearing it.”

He gave you a strange look, and you hoped he understood that you were not questioning your allegiance to the Order. Just where my heart belongs, you thought. He stayed silent, his fingers playing with said band, turning it around your finger. You couldn’t tell where this was coming from, thinking that your emotional ramble was no longer valid now that the mission was over and he would not understand why you suddenly felt so empty – because it means going back to being Jedi, and not unlawfully wed husband and wife. But then he pressed both your hands to his forehead, bending in front of you like he did that time he was crying over his fears in your room.

“Please don’t ever think what happened on that planet was meaningless. There is no one else in the galaxy with whom I would have wanted to indulge in this experience but you, and I would like to do it for as long as you’ll have me. If you’ll have me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and your thoughts had not caught up with your words when you blurted out:

“I want you Obi-Wan. Always.”

You pulled him up to you. His lips met yours again, and this time you knew it was real. It was soft at first, as if he never kissed you before, lips exploring lips and when he familiarized himself with the map of your curves and corners, his teeth nipped at your bottom lip, his tongue seeking yours. You opened your mouth to him, and he pulled you up, pressing your body into his and you melted a little as you became one with him. His arms wrapped you in a tight embrace and your hands found their way around his neck, in his hair, tugging the lock affectionately. He hummed in content, you sighed in relief.

You knew this could – would – mean long discussions about your values, the conflicting dichotomy between listening to your feelings but not indulging in them, that it would mean more secrets, stolen glances and forbidden touches, another perception of the time and space between you and him, parsecs and moons away from each other during missions. You smiled against his lips as you thought about how things always come in pairs; light and dark, moons and suns, seas and skies, days and night, and how maybe, you and him could be the two counterparts of your own binary system.

#obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi #jedi!reader #star wars #first fic #yay #!!! #I am scared #swann #baby swann writes

[namelessthirst]

Surprise

[ A gift fic for @lady-bakuhoe ! I intended this to end a certain way but I hit a good line to end this so I guess this is a part one and expect the rest soon??? I’ll tag @ikinabi too since they mentioned liking pegging >:3c

As always lemme know if you spot any errors I missed! <33

Ao3

Reader/Kirishima/Bakugo

2k and some change

Pegging, Anal, AttemptingToDom!Reader, No pronouns are used but Reader usually has a cooche, But Not This Time ;) ShapshifterQuirk!Reader]

Momo blessedly did not ask details when you asked her to make several floor mats like the ones in gyms, nor when you asked her, as a follow-up, to make a king-sized bedding.

You knew you had a couple hours to prepare before the boys came back from their evening training, though you didn't expect to take that long.

The setup was mostly simple, your dorm furniture pressed away from the middle of the room, giving as much space as you could to the affair you had planned. Placing the gym mats was a bit of a squeeze anyway, but with some effort they pressed down well enough between your bed and the desk. Getting the bedding on was a different ordeal, trying to pin the corners of the sheet on by yourself was far from an easy task even when the object being dressed was all in one piece, let alone multiple slats of mats. You could have asked your boys to help, but that would have given away the surprise unveiling for the evening. But, eventually, you did get it all on; with the help of a desk chair, a beanbag, and some textbooks, holding down the other corners.

Next was decorating the room in candles, more for mood lighting than scent; you didn't expect to mind the smell of the aftermath at all. Besides, the boys had insisted on showering before coming over anyway, even though you said it'd be kinda silly to get all cleaned up just to get dirty again.

Lastly was organizing your inventory for the night- lube, the warming pad for the lube (which you intended to go and warm up a bit later, so it'd be sure to keep until the boys came), water bottles, some light snacks, some small towels that you'd bought specifically for times like these, and a pack of sanitary wipes. Oh! And lastly, a pair of lovely metal butt-plugs, adorned with red and gold sequins on the backs. These, you were sure to hide separately from the main stash.

With everything prepped and cleaned, all you needed to do now was wait.

It was unexpectedly calm, the time spent idly studying or lounging. When it came closer to their arrival, you meandered into the communal kitchen to warm the heating pad in the microwave. Sure, you got a couple odd looks from your peers, but nothing about it was too unusual.

Your relationship with Eijiro and Katsuki wasn't a secret, sure, but you didn't exactly call out your sexual escapades to the sky either. Not that you would have minded bragging some, with welcoming company, but you're fairly certain the noisiest of your trio would have a right fit about it if you did.

After tucking the lube together with the pad in with a normal towel, you heard your phone go off lightly, your set alert tone specifically for Eiji's texts.

You couldn't help the little gleeful wiggle that was elicited at the ETA you were given. Almost there!

Just before you expected them, you dashed around to dim the lights, leaving only a lamp in the back to offer just enough light to see by, and of course, the candles.

There was a soft knock at your door and a jingle of keys (you'd given them copies to your room a while ago), and you took a moment to take a breath before the door opened. Composure was certainly something you could bring to this, for the moment.

Eijiro was first in, squinting into the darkened room as his eyes adjusted from the lighting outside. Katsuki followed in in a similar fashion, shutting the door behind himself gently, for once.

"You have enough fire in here to put icy-hot to shame."

Not exactly the most romantic greeting, but you couldn't exactly deny Katsuki's claim either.

"Maybe- Doesn't it look pretty though?"

Eijiro set his workout bag aside, having brought himself and Katsuki straight over after their shower, "I think so! Romantic lighting is always a classic move, isn't it?"

You hummed in consideration, making grabby hands at the two, "Maybe. I just thought it'd be...relaxing."

Katsuki joined you and Eijiro on the makeshift king-bed after dumping his own bag in the designated spot, "Nothing like a little fire hazard to set the mood."

You snorted, breaking the light kiss with Eiji to give Katsuki a look, "Says the guy who lights off his hands at any given opportunity, in any indoor space."

You knew his remarks right now were mostly due to nerves, but that didn't mean you'd let him get away without a good sassing.

All the same, you pulled him in next to press a more tender kiss than he'd usually prefer to his lips, "Mm, so. Do we wanna kick things off?"

You shifted back a bit toward the mound of pillows you'd placed at the top of the 'bed', having snatched your own and theirs, and perhaps a few from the storage closet; if the night went as you'd hoped, you'd be keeping them, for your sake and everyone else's. "Or we could just...warm up for a bit? Talk?"

You wanted to take things slow, or at least slow enough that Katsuki wouldn't lose his shit so soon. You tried to work this want into him with your hands, rubbing firmly up and down his biceps, which did happen to feel awfully nice after a workout.

Eijiro shuffled up behind you, caging you in against the bedroom nervous-nancy, "Why don't we play it by ear?" He perhaps didn't mean it so literally, but the temptation was too prominent as he leaned in and nipped at the shell of your ear. You offered him a sweet shiver and a tilt of your head in agreement, slipping your hands up Katsuki's shoulders and into the edge of his hair to play and comb through it while Eijiro danced his teeth over your pulse.

With a soft huff, Katsuki shifted himself, gripping your thighs to lift you a bit till he had you seated neatly on his thighs, Eijiro's pelvis providing a nice back to brace on. The pretty pearly whites you so loved to see Katsuki flash in pride and excitement found their way to the open side your neck, wasting no time in catching up to his sharper counterpart.

You let them mark you up for a bit, praising them with slow grinds against their laps. You knew what they expected this to be, that you wouldn't exactly be participating through the main event, so surely this was not just warming for them, but reassurance to their pride that you were having pleasure too.

Still though, their focus was meant to be on each other, at least at the start.

So with a small whine and a wiggle for their attention, you took their chins to aim for each other. With your insistence they pressed heated kisses together, nipping and pulling at each other’s lips, putting a show on for you.

It wasn't as though they didn't care for each other as they did you, they just weren't as quite quick off mark with each other as they were with you. They seemed to carry their feelings more like a teammate, the fight addressed usually being just how well they could ruin you by the end of the night.

You kept them close for a bit, pressing encouraging kisses to their bared cheeks and shoulders, feeling their mutual arousal being ground against you. With a squeeze to Eiji's shaft and quick work of his fly, he sucked in a breath against plump, pouty lips, and ground all the more readily against your touch.

Katsuki was a different beast to tame, a wanting palm run over his length, surely, but more so as you pressed your fingers into the back of his pants to tease a grip at his ass cheek. His grip on your hips gave you all you needed to know before you slipped from between them to fetch the warmed lube from its nest.

"Strip?"

They obeyed, gladly ditching their already dampening tops- the candles really did make the room warmer. You were glad to look back as they did, catching the candle-light shimmer of saliva strung between their lips before it was taken with their shirts.

It didn't take long for Katsuki to beckon you back over to him once he'd bared himself, laid out against the pillow-mound while Eijiro sat between his spread legs, slowly pumping his length and smearing the pre over his tip.

You dribbled lube onto your fingers while you let Katsuki hold you in for a deep kiss, waving your free hand over for Eiji's to apply the same to his.

'Suki's soft gasp into your mouth as you spread the lube over his puckered hole made you wobble in your desire to see your plan through, loving the idea of just seating yourself on his twitching dick already. But, no, you planned too much for this to fall through.

On you pressed, both figuratively, and literally, as you slid the first finger into him. You couldn't help the grin that spread on your lips as you felt his asshole flutter around you. But you'd have your fun soon enough, so you cooed for him to relax, dancing pecks over his lips and cheek as your finger worked in and out.

With a glance at Eiji in signal, he brought his slicked fingers beside yours, pressing the longer digit in with a swallowed groan from 'Suki.

"Baby, take his leg up?" Eijiro complied, your hand replacing his on his wanting cock as he took Katsuki's knee up higher.

It didn't take long before Eijiro's touch found your love's prostate, he'd know where it was best, of course.  Still you kept yourself in, pressing the opposite way to stretch and tease him inside.

Your touch on Eijiro's need was not quite feathery, you didn't want him too close before he made it in. Before Katsuki's clenched moans turned sweet and as pliant as his slippery asshole, before yours and Eiji's fingers gained in number for him.

"Is it time baby?" You asked, tone full of sugar as you kissed at his flushed cheeks. "Can he go in?"

With his untouched leg spreading further without input, you gave Eiji's cock a firm squeeze, and he wasted no time in shuffling closer as your fingers slipped free.

Your clean hand brushed into Katsuki's hair as you watched Eijiro's arousal slowly disappear into the love under him, using his fingers as a guide until he was seated sturdily in.

After wiping your used hand off on the bedsheets, you wrapped it around Katsuki's cock, his own hands busied in gripping Eiji's arm and the pillow under him.

"Is it good sweetie? Do you wonder, now, if this is what I feel like when you two go to town on me?" You were almost laid out beside him now, watching his lips part in caught moans, his chest rise with every inch Eiji pushed in, not quite fucking him yet, just adjusting. Your hand stroking him languidly, thumb pressing his pretty, glistening slit as you spoke.

With the first roll of Katsuki's hips up to his partner's touch, Eiji met him fully and thrusted, though it ended up being more of a grind when he was already so deeply within him. Still, they'd found their comfort and the sound of strong hips meeting a heavy ass had you dripping in want. You couldn't wait much longer.

They didn't ask when you disappeared behind Eijiro, the grip of each other keeping them preoccupied while you coated your hand in lube once more.

"Eiji, honey, hold in for a bit?"

He grunted in question, but still pressing his hips flush to Katsuki's squirming ass all the same.

When Eiji's hips lurched forward even more, 'Suki swore into a groan, "W-Why're we stopping?"

He couldn't see, how your fingers danced into Eijiro's untouched asshole, repeating the treatment given to the bottom-for-the-night earlier.

"Mmh, I know I said I just wanted to watch, but...then I got an idea!"

Eijiro was caught, stuck between wanting to press his ass onto the fingers teasing so close to his favorite spot and keeping his cock buried in the hot hole it'd been warmed up in. He nearly whined when your fingers left and you climbed back into view of both, your clean hand buried almost out of sight into your own sopping hole.

"I mean, you two always have so much fun plowing into me, I thought- maybe I'd like to give it a try too?"

Their eyes trailed the slick strings carried from yourself to your soaked hand, almost not catching how your soft mound disappeared, something far more prominent taking its place.

"S-so, what do you think? Can I try too?" Your voice wasn't quite as domineering as you'd have liked, too used to your spot between and under them. Still the sight of you using your own arousal to lube up your freshly formed cock had Katsuki clamping down on what was already inside him, giving Eijiro a run for his money to not rut into the tight heat and cum right there.

It was Eijiro's affirmation you were mostly waiting for, as he'd be the one taking you. At least at first.

When you didn't move, he nodded, swallowing thickly between his words, "Y-yeah, babe, god."

With a grin you came around behind, running your hands over his back, "Press 'Suki's legs all the way up, baby? So I can get to you too."

He did as told, caging over Katsuki that much more, hands pressing his knees practically up to his ears, his own ass lifting to give you a pretty view, and a prettier angle to take him in.

You bit your lip in glee as you pressed your slicked cock against the sweetly presented hole, pushing in inch by inch with gentle thrusts until your purposefully over-sized length was buried in to the hilt. You hadn't gone too overboard, but the idea of taking them with something even they couldn't give was just too tempting of a chance.

Eiji was practically drooling when he felt your hips flush to his ass, cock throbbing inside Katsuki who watched his partner's mouth hang open with tongue and drool, and he could only imagine how it must feel.

You moaned soft, rubbing Eijiro's sides as the new sensations took over your sense and you gave a sharp snap back into him, having only pulled back half way- but it was enough. Shoving his hips back into Katsuki as they'd followed your cock back out.

You leaned over his strong back, and Katsuki could just barely catch the filthiest grin he'd ever seen you make as you almost whispered to them.

"I'm going to make you both my bitches tonight."

#eijiro kirishima #katsuki bakugo #eijiro kirishima x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #lemon #fluff #BNHA #MHA #Boku no Hero Academia #my hero academia #BNHA x Reader #MHA x reader

[madrut16]

Day 13: Can’t Do Both

Author’s Note: I know people aren’t the biggest fan of naming fics after songs but, I felt that this one fit perfectly even though the positions are reversed. This fic is my headcanon for why Bryce and my mc wouldn’t necessarily be official yet even after a year of seeing each other. This is set before my first fic about them uring Ally’s suspension from Edenbrook. Also, this fills my need for my MC’s to have at least one bad thing in their backstory. Hopefully, you like it! If you want to be tagged in my future fics for them, please let me know and I will do that. 

Book/Pairing: Open Heart (Bryce x MC)

Rating: PG-13

Summary:  Bryce finally gives Ally an ultimatum about the nature of their relationship and she makes her choice hoping that it isn’t too late to fix the hurt she caused. 

@endlesshero1122 @fortunatelywaywardsandwich @choices97 @oandstories @minion-on-board @lovingangelsmile 

Song: Can’t Do Both by Ingrid Andress https://open.spotify.com/track/6J6TFz0DLTFLo8UYzlvn6W?si=Bn2wPaDnQ0W7336QFPpNMQ

Ally had messed up, big time. Her nerves threatened to make her combust as she stood outside Bryce’s apartment. The details of their last words exchanged before he proceeded to give her the silent treatment replayed in her mind for the hundredth time since it happened. 

“Is that all I am to you?”

Bryce’s words still cut deep, but she deserved them. She had suddenly felt impossibly warm underneath his piercing stare, so full of disappointment and hurt. It was never meant to be anything more than friends with benefits between them, she wasn’t ready for a relationship and he was fine with it.

Until feelings got in the way for both of them. 

While he had gotten on board with that progression she continued to hold back. One minute she was opening up to him, saying maybe she was ready to take things to the next level and the next, she shut herself off and backtracked on the idea. For months now she’d been stringing him along for the ride and it had finally caught up with her. 

The heated discussion was all she could think about, how the lighthearted, confident personality she had come to love about him had been replaced with a much more serious version that only a select few ever got to see. So she knew even before his ultimatum that he was fed up with her indecisiveness.

“Of course not,” she answered when he asked the question, leaning up against the metal shelf behind her. “But, it’s not that simple. I--”

He cut her off. “Save it, Ally, I know. I’ve been patient and I want to take this slow too. But, I’m tired of not knowing where we stand period. You need to figure out what it is you want. Now.”

“Bryce--”

“No. Say that you want this or don’t. I can handle either one. But, I need to know which. I can’t just keep getting my hopes up when all you do is tear them back down again. I’ve dealt with that for practically my whole life back home,” he told her, the sudden bitterness sharp as a scalpel. “I don’t need that from you too.”

She had lowered her head, gaze fixed on the linoleum floor. A million responses floated in her brain but they all sounded cheezy and insincere with some excuse about her trust issues mixed in. So, she didn’t voice them because she knew that it would only worsen things.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered instead.

“Are you?” he accused, a light scoff displaying his doubtful attitude. 

Normally he was so positive that it caught her off-guard. 

Her brows furrowed. She never apologized so, when she did, she meant it. “Yes! I know I have...issues...that I haven’t addressed properly. And I know that I’ve hurt people because of it. You’re not the first person you know. You’re just...”

She trailed off. 

Bryce tilted his head, his jaw clenched tight. “Just what Ally?”

She opened her mouth and then closed it, the slim moment of confidence vanishing. “Nothing.”

She couldn’t get the words, the feelings out. That immense fear and mistrust latched onto her heart once more, the one that kept getting her into trouble.

“See, you’re doing it now,” he stated loudly, rolling his eyes in frustration. “I wish you would just let me in Ally. Whatever happened to you, whoever the idiot was who hurt you, I am not him. So let me prove it to you for god sakes. And until you make up your mind, till you tell me what you want and actually stick to it, we need to stop seeing each other. For my sanity.”

His tone was clipped and before Ally could even muster a response, he was already leaving the supply closet. 

“Bryce...,” she exclaimed to no avail and he slipped out anyway. “Bryce, wait!”

But he was gone and she wasn’t sure that she would get him back, that despite his promising dialogue that it was already too late to save the best thing she had in years. 

Maybe ever. 

That’s how she ended up here, running through the pouring rain to travel the four blocks to his place having made her decision. She just hoped that he was ready to listen to her tell it, that he would believe that she was really done lying about how she felt. 

Swallowing down a lump that had formed in her throat, Ally set down the box she was holding, freeing her right hand to knock on the door. Her eyes wandered over the entire hallway, examining every minute crack in the wallpaper until she heard the door partially open and her breath caught in her throat. And suddenly, those eyes were on hers again. 

“Bryce,” she said in surprise, as he raised his eyebrows at her sopping wet clothing. “Wasn’t sure if you would even answer.”

She could tell that even after a week apart that he was still apprehensive and she didn’t blame him. “What do you want?”

“To apologize, which I don’t do that often.” Ally sighed before continuing. “Almost never actually. You were right, I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that, especially since you’ve given me no reason to. You don’t deserve that and I’m really sorry.” 

She silently cursed at herself as the carefully planned out speech she had prepared turned into a rambling mess. 

He began to soften to her, but the resistance wasn’t leaving completely either. “Is that all?”

She shook her head. “No. I also came here to give you your answer.”

Another heavy breath of air came gushing out as the familiar signs of fear encased her. The uncomfortable warmth, sweaty palms, and her heart hammering like a drum in her chest all present. But, this time, instead of letting it conquer her, she pushed past it. 

Biting her lip, she said, “I know what I want, and that’s you...us. You are the best thing that’s happened to me and I would be stupid to throw that away. I’ve known that for a while too, I just, I didn’t want to believe it.” She felt the tears on the back of her eyelids and paused, the urge to resist it palpable. Swallowing, she pressed on and let the words and the emotion that came with it out. “Because the last time I did, I was dumped the day before we were supposed to get married. I was left with an expensive wedding dress and a text message saying that our whole relationship was a mistake, that he didn’t think he loved me after all.”

The confession hit Bryce like a ton of bricks. “Ally...is that really...I had no idea.” Through the blurriness of tears, she took in his now guilt-ridden expression. “No wonder you’re so scared of love. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard--”

She stopped him. “--No, don’t. You didn’t know because I didn’t want you to. I don’t want almost anyone to know. And I’m not done yet.”

He closed his agape lips and regarded her silently. 

“It’s not loving that I’m afraid of, it’s of being lied to again, of not receiving that love back. And so I kept people at arm's length because it was easier to believe that every guy I met was a flight risk and to break their hearts before they could shatter mine.” Her gaze found his once more and she held it. “Until I met you. Suddenly I felt myself secretly hoping that you would be the one to prove me wrong. To make me believe again that I too could find the happily ever after my parents did.”

Ally wiped at the black streaks on her face, not quite able to rid herself of her desire to hide her emotions completely. 

“And that just terrified me,” she continued. “Made me worry that I was only setting myself up for disappointment all over again. But, that doesn’t excuse what I did to you. Because I’ve just been doing the same thing he did to me and that’s not okay.” She looked down at the gray carpet, his gaze becoming her Kryptonite once more. “So, here I am, if you even still want me here.”

Her words came out barely a whisper and her whole body shook from irrational dread. 

She braced herself for his response and was relieved when she felt his strong arms wrap around her tightly. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that. Of course, I do, Ally. I couldn’t stay mad at you even if I tried.”

“Thank you, for not giving up on me. You had every right to,” she responded. She pulled away slightly so that she could see his expression. 

He gave her a signature lopsided smile, one she hadn’t seen in forever. “I wouldn’t be Bryce Lahela if I didn’t. I mean my job is to literally put people back together,” he boasted lightly and she failed at containing a small laugh. “Seriously, Ally, I’ll always be here for you. I promise.”

“You do really know how to cheer me up,” she replied, a tearful smile spreading. 

Then, his eyes fell to the discarded box on the floor. “Um, what’s that?”

Following his inquisitive gaze, she gasped and let go for him to go grab it. 

“Oh, this?” She shrugged sheepishly. “It’s my way of making things up to you. Whenever I had a fight with my siblings, our parents made the instigator do this for the others afterward. I know family isn’t a pleasant topic for you but, it’s a little custom I’m used to so...”

Bryce examined its contents and his smile grew. “I think I can live. Just because I didn’t have the best childhood doesn’t mean I’m bothered by good memories of others.” A few seconds later, he looked up at her his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Wait, is this...?”

“Yep, every Hitchcock movie on DVD,” she confirmed. “And the biggest bag of Gourmet Chicago style popcorn I could get my hands on.”

He whistled appreciatively, rocking on his heels. “You really pulled out all the stops, that must’ve been pricey.”

“Oh, it was my wallet was not happy. But, you’re worth it. Plus, I suddenly have a lot of time on my hands due to this suspension. I take it this means that you...like it?”

He answered with a kiss. “Like it? Ally, it’s perfect. And, it’s a good thing my roommate isn’t home, because I already have the first choice in mind.”

Her grin widened. “That is fantastic because I cannot wait to get out of these wet clothes.”

“And I’m looking forward to helping you out of them,” he quipped raising an eyebrow mischievously.

She groaned at his obviously suggestive comment but followed him inside more at peace than she had been in weeks taking this as a sign that things were finally turning around for her. 

#playchoices #choices stories you play #open heart #bryce x mc #bryce x ally #bryce lahela

[eloarei]

WIP Game

List the things you’re excited to work on this year in as little or as much detail as you like, and then tag some friends!

Tagged by @enchantedtalisman (and again it won’t tag you. Tch. Sorry. But thanks for the tag!)

(Behind a cut, because you don’t want to read all that. ...Or maybe you do?)

In no particular order, because my level of excitement changes at the drop of a hat: 6 BNHA fics, and one each FFXV and FO4. 1700 words of synopses and babbling.  (Friends who read my stuff: if you wanna skim through these and tell me which one(s) (if any) you’d most want to read, that’d be rad. =D Will it influence what I work on? Who knows? My inspiration is fickle as shit. But it couldn’t hurt.) 

1. “Touch2” -- current WIP, 10k + notes. BNHA. Dekumight. Estimated total: 20k?      Picking up right where “Touch” left off, this fic is a slightly more detailed/slow/slice-of-life story than its predecessor. The 10k I’ve written so far takes place over the course of only 2 days, and it’s mostly Toshi and Izuku getting to know each other, and Toshi being yelled at by his manager (an OC called Suzuki). The general plot of the story doesn’t deviate very far from canon, as far as I’ve planned. “Touch2” will probably cover at least up to the entrance exam, but I’m not entirely sure. Given that leisurely pace, there’ll probably have to be a Touch3 and 4 as well, if not even more.       I’ve been slowly hacking away at this one since the start of December, just in between whatever else I might be working on. Kind of got to a point where I need to actually think about what happens next? ^^; Also, it’s gotten too long to be a one-shot, I think, but I’m going to have to be careful how I split it up. It’s not written for splitting… Well, I’ll figure it out. Just gotta keep writing first.

2. “Make the Most sequel, and side stories” -- only notes. BNHA. Dekumight. Estimated total: lots???      I’m lumping these all together, but this includes quite a few stories, some of which I have plans/notes for, some only ideas. One of the first is a fic that might be, at most, half the length of MtM, which is the events of MtM from Toshi’s POV. This was actually requested by a friend, but it was something I kind of already wanted to do, which is cool. Other side stories include perspectives from other characters, some things like dates and vacations, Izuku learning to use his powers, and some extra NSFW scenes, because why not? After all of those, I intend for there to be an ‘official sequel’, taking place towards the end of Izuku’s college run, which might function as more of an epilogue than a sequel, due to the potential lack of actual plot.      Geez there is just so much potential for this series to go on in side-stories and extras and etc. I actually get a little mad at myself whenever I neglect to continue it, because it’s sort of my main, well, IP, I guess you’d say. It’s my kudos breadwinner. XD I should just do it!

3. “Loveless epilogue” -- only notes. BNHA. Dekumight. Estimated total: 7k?      A short...er sequel/epilogue, taking place roughly a year (I might change that) after the main story, revolving (spoiler alert) around Toshi figuring out if/when/how to propose to Izuku, and summing up how things have gone in the past year. Mushy because I love marriage, okay guys, I just love it so much, and also a little bit morbid because of an in-universe tradition that could be considered either romantic or creepy, depending on your views. =D      I actually ought to write this one like… immediately, while the main fic is still fresh in my mind. It’s extremely self-indulgent, maybe more than just, y’know, my normal writing. But I think at least some of the people who read LOVELESS will like it. ^^ And I will, I think. And that’s all that really matters, right?! *shakes head ‘no’*

4. “Waste” -- current WIP, 1k + notes. BNHA. Dekumight(-ish?), and Deku+friends. Estimated total: 15k???? No. Probably more.      A Fallout fusion. Vault 211 (21-1 or twenty-one one) has been carefully breeding superpowers into its population for the past 200 years, but if yours doesn’t show up by your 18th birthday, prepare to be kicked out on your ass into the unforgiving wasteland. Guess who’s the newest resident of the wastes? Lucky for Izuku, he meets a frightening creature who takes to looking out for him. ‘Human’ under some description, he’s sure, this guy has radiation levels through the roof. Burly super-mutant by day, gangly rotting ghoul by night, he doesn’t exactly have a lot of friends, but boy is he good at surviving in the hellscape that the world has become.      I freaking love Fallout a whole lot, and look, Toshi/All Might is so very much a ghoul/super mutant, and vaults just give you so much free reign to give people powers and etc etc, look, it just seemed like something that would work. Not sure really how it’s going to go, but we’ll see. =]

5. “Nana/Toshi darkfic” -- only notes. BNHA. Nana/Toshi (probably NSFW) and Dekumight. Estimated total: 20k???       His mentor was beautiful, kind, strong-- perfect. He didn’t realize she was being eaten away by a dark pit in her heart. He didn’t know if leaving her alone would help it. He just wanted to be with her so badly, to please her, to make that smile real, and she lacked the fortitude to refuse him anything that would make him happy. A fic about Nana and Toshi becoming perhaps too close, and Nana struggling with depression. Following the canon timeline moderately closely, it shouldn’t be a surprise that it will include a major character death, and the fallout surrounding it.      Hoo boy did the desire to write this fic just hit me like a ton of bricks a few weeks ago. This is going to be a dark, sad, uncomfortable story, most likely. And although it will end with Dekumight, the large part of the plot will still revolve around Nana/Toshi, so I’m not sure most of my normal readers will want to touch it. XD;;; I think the inspiration to write this came somewhat from the feeling that the ending to LOVELESS was not nearly as dark as it could have been, haha. Every so often I just want to challenge myself and see how many boundaries I can push. ^^;

6. “Feed” -- only notes. BNHA. Dekumight. Estimated total: 15k?      In a world ruled by a vampiric shadow known as All for One, Izuku’s group has been trying to find ways to fight him. Nearly everyone is of this man’s blood now, since he started handing out powers to gain followers. But it’s said that an artifact of some sort exists still which can give the power to defeat him. Izuku, with the purest blood of his group, is chosen to seek it out. But the artifact is a vampire, the last of AfO’s first ‘children’, frozen and starving after failing to defeat his ‘father’, and Izuku almost doesn’t survive the encounter.      I want to write this fic, and I think I should do it while it’s still cold and gloomy, because that’s the feel of the setting, but if I get distracted and don’t get around to it, I probably won’t be too upset.

7. “Parents AU” -- current WIP, 6k + notes. FFXV. Gladnis + Ignis&Noctis. Estimated total: 40k?       Teenage Ignis and Gladio happen to be babysitting the toddler prince when the Empire attacks, and in the chaos they manage to get safely mixed into the crowd of civilians fleeing the city. They decide to treat him as their own until they can be sure it’s safe to return him to someone with more seniority. But will it ever be safe? Fifteen years in hiding says no, and even when Noct is old  enough to be asked to save the world, there’s no way in hell his parents are going to let him go it alone.       I tried to continue writing this the other day and it was terrible. Painful. I almost cried. Literally every word of the 30 or so I managed before I gave up were the hardest things I’ve ever written. I think if I go back and play the game again (which I’d like to, since there’ve been updates and DLC), I think it will be easier. Honestly though, this is one of my favorite things I’ve yet written, so if I don’t see it to fruition, I will be moderately pissed.

8. “Same Heart” -- current WIP, 30k + notes. FO4. Estimated total: 90k (35k for act 1)      The great synth detective Nick Valentine is recaptured by the Institute, remade and reset. He awakes to his new life underground, unaware that he ever roamed the wasteland-- except for the rare moments when they plug in his old memories so they can grill him for info. Though the memories are gone again after every session, they leave an aftertaste of distrust for the people he’s working with, until it’s too much to ignore. Meanwhile, he finds himself as the only person who seems to truly care about the little boy they’re all calling their savior, doing his best to help him grow up with some modicum of love in this sterile environment. When Nick finally decides to break out of their fancy little prison, it’s not a question whether he’ll take Shaun with him, and it’s obvious where they’ll go: to find the parents the Institute stole him from.      This one haunts me, because I spent like 3 months doing practically nothing but writing this last year. I got almost, almost all the way through the first act (out of 3), and then… stopped. Now I know it’s going to be impossible to get back into. And this is already a very different story for me, because it’s essentially a gen fic. The intention is for acts 2 and 3 to focus on Nick and the ‘sole survivor’ Nora, but the whole first act is about him half-raising her son, Shaun. I really want to finish this, or geez, at least the first act! Because it is painful having 30k sitting around that nobody has ever seen. And it’s pretty decent! But even though I have 6 chapters done, I don’t want to start posting it until it has a halfway decent ‘conclusion’, so I need to finish the act. I have to.

And I’ll tag… uh… @oldseablues, @braincoins, @thenightisdarkandfullofbooty, @orionskingdom, @animeuzumaki7, @blessedblooduniverse, @rangrids, and anyone else who’s reading this and is also a writer. =] Tag me back so I can see it, please! ^^

#elo talks #elo fics #tag meme