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chibikyo · 7 months

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Caught in his Web Pt. 1

This is mostly Reader x Shinnok, with some Reader x Raiden x Shinnok in the second part

Shinnok receives an interesting captive on the cusp of his victory over earthrealm and decides to indulge in a more hedonistic way to torture earthrealm's god of thunder.' A.K.A. - reader is a demi-god from earthrealm who is in love with Raiden and both are in the clutches of Shinnok who decides to torture Raiden by assaulting reader. Reader submits to Shinnok under threat of him torturing Raiden. Loosely inspired by this scene from MKX.

This is a AU timeline featuring my half-goddess OC (converted to reader for more wide-spread enjoyment). This is set in a sort of original timeline/MKX-esque timeline. The battle with Shinnok in my oc's canon does not go this way so this is a what-if more than anything. Since I wrote this firstly for my OC the reader is afab and uses female anatomy/pronouns, but i stuck with generic descriptions as much as I could. Be warned this was meant to be a oneshot but is currently 14,000 words and while almost finished this was never meant to be so lengthy. please read warnings.

Warnings: Extremely dubious consent; reader consents under duress so basically non-con, forecd voyeurism, forced orgasm, throat fucking, double penetration, torture, bondage, pnv sex, Dom/sub tones, reader may be close to subspace at some points though it isn't mentioned in those words, forced to participate in assault (Raiden forced to interact with reader), praise kink, please let me know if this needs expanded

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Quan Chi shoved Y/N through the doors of Shinnok's temple as soon as they creaked open. He had bested her forces and taken her prisoner, per his master's orders. Y/N stumbled from the force of the shove, and Quan Chi reveled in the look of pure loathing she shot his way.

To her credit, she recovered quickly enough. Her back straightened, posture stiff, though she did her best to appear unperturbed. Quan Chi merely chuckled at the false bravado as he gestured to her to keep moving. At the head of the main hall sat Quan Chi's master, the fallen elder god himself, Shinnok. Y/N could feel his eyes watching her as she made her way closer to his throne. It made her feel vulnerable, like prey caught in a predator's trap, but she would have to pick the right moment to make her escape.

"And what has my dear Quan Chi brought me this time? You don't look like an earth-realmer." Shinnok chuckled. She shuddered as he blatantly checked her out, his eyes lingering at the dip of her cleavage disappearing into her tunic. She kept her eyes forward, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Quan Chi merely chuckled again.

"A keen eye as always, my lord. Y/N is no mere mortal; she is Lord Kurai's daughter."

"A demi-god. How interesting." Shinnok curled his finger, gesturing her closer. Y/N hesitated only a moment before pressing forward, letting out the breath she had been holding. She made her way slowly up the short steps until she was standing just one step down from the fallen god. He leaned forward, reaching out to trace one of his long, slender fingers down her jaw, pausing as it settled against the hollow of her throat. Y/N kept her eyes forward, expression neutral. "Such a beautiful specimen is wasted in earthrealm."

"Spare me the empty platitudes, Shinnok. The minute you and your dog lower your guard, I'm going to gut you." Y/N growled, fists clenched tight to keep her from shivering with disgust at his touch. Shinnok grinned, his grayish skin stretched taut across sharp cheeks. A sudden, sharp sting pulsed through her, and she felt something hard wrap around her throat. She jerked back, her hands shooting up to try and yank the object loose as it slowly tightened. She struggled to get enough air as her hands found purchase on… fingers? She collapsed to her knees, drawing in ragged gasps as the fingers finally relaxed. Long, thin, skeletal fingers wrapping around her throat; the bony palm pressed against it tight where Shinnoks finger had been moments prior.

"Go ahead, my dear, gut me if you dare." Shinnok tipped her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet his once more. Y/N glared at the fallen god, her body tense, but she did not take the bait. "Good girl. You're a quick learner, I see. That collar is capable of doing far more than simply cutting off your precious air." Y/N heard a muffled shout in the distance and whipped her head around, finally taking in her surroundings to find the source. She heard Shinnok laugh again as her eyes went wide with fear at the sight before her. "Yes," He murmured. "Much faster than our guest of honor."

"Lord Raiden?!" Y/N jerked to her feet, mouth agape at the sight before her. Raiden was on his knees between two of the closest columns. His hands were bound behind his back, held in place by one of Shinnok's skeletal hands. Two more were wrapped around his throat and mouth, and she could see the one on his mouth was clenched tight, digging into his jaw and cheeks, muffling any sounds he tried to make. It would take only a few strides to reach him. Y/N made a motion to run toward him, but the minute she got more than a step away from Shinnok, she felt the hand wrap itself tighter around her throat. She whipped back around to face Shinnok. "Stop it! You're hurting him!"

Shinnok's eyes drifted over Y/N, lazily taking in the desperation and fury in her eyes and the trembling fists clenched at her sides. With a flick of his wrist, he eased off the pressure he'd been applying to Raiden's muzzle. He was suddenly very curious to see what the thunder god was trying to say. Shinnok had noticed the shock and terror that had washed over his prisoner when Y/N had come into view. Perhaps this mortal would prove to be even more entertaining than anticipated. As soon as the fingers peeled away from Raiden's mouth a snarl could be heard, making Y/N jump.

"Don't you dare touch her, Shinnok! She isn't a part of this!" Raiden's deep voice echoed through the hall, reverberating deep within Y/N. She let out a shaky breath, grateful at least to know he sounded unharmed. Her relief lasted only seconds as she caught the vicious grin twisting Shinnok's face. There was a gleam in those eyes as he surged to his feet. He reached forward, cupping Y/N's face delicately within the cradle of his spindly fingers. Y/N's gut clenched in fear as he softly traced the line of her jaw, caressing the exposed flesh of her throat. She could hear Raiden thrashing behind her and Shinnok urged her with gentle touches to turn around. She did so stiffly, unsure what Shinnok was plotting.

She stopped as her eyes locked with Raiden's. She could see the fear in his gaze. Shinnok's hands were back, one resting gently around her throat, the other pressed into the dip of her waist. Her clothes had been torn from the prior fighting and those cold digits brushed against the exposed skin, making her shiver. She didn't dare move, knowing that any resistance would be punished. Quan Chi seemed content to stand by, watching the exchange in quiet anticipation. He clearly had some idea of what his master was plotting, but the sympathetic look he gave Y/N brought her no comfort.

"You dare presume to order me around, Raiden? Have you not learned yet how truly powerless you are?" Shinnok chuckled. He squeezed her waist gently, just enough pressure to remind her of its presence as he drew in close behind her. "And what, pray tell, is so special about this one? I've never seen you quite so… desperate. Could she be someone special, Raiden? Someone you care for?"

"Y/N is one of my champions. Not one of your playthings, Shinnok." Raiden barked, straining against the bounds keeping him prisoner.

"That wasn't a no, Raiden." Shinnok grinned.

"If I may interject, my lord, I can confirm that from my own observations, the thunder god seems to be far more attentive to this mortal, compared to his other 'champions'." Quan Chi smirked. Raiden growled, but said nothing to dispute the sorcerer.

"Is that so?" Shinnok's hand dipped lower until it was sprawled across her hip and he leaned in, his lips grazing her ear. "What about you? Do you secretly harbor feelings for earthrealm's god?"

"I respect Lord Raiden. He has been like a mentor to me." The words fell from her lips with a quiver. She kept her tone and expression neutral even though she knew it was only half truth. She knew that her feelings for the thunder god were much deeper, and that he in turn had been slowly returning those feelings. They had been dancing around each other for weeks, on the cusp of coming together and expressing those desires, when Shinnok's invasion had pushed all of it aside. She felt the fallen god go stiff behind her, felt his hand tighten against her throat, fingers digging in hard enough to leave pinprick bruises on her pale skin before those lips brushed against her ear with a 'tsk'.

"Lies, my dear." Shinnok hissed. "Tell me the truth. How do you truly feel?"

"I'm telling you the truth. I swear it. " Y/N gasped as Shinnok's fingers dug painfully into her hip. She flinched as Shinnok drew up to full height behind her and pulled her back until she was flush against him.

"I'm going to drag the truth out of you, Y/N." Shinnok caressed her neck once before snapping his fingers at Quan Chi. The sorcerer grinned as he made his way toward the pair of them. A gnawing pit of fear grew in her gut. "Either you can confess your heart now, or I'll have to see for myself how you feel about your beloved 'mentor'." Y/N could feel her heart beating in her throat as Shinnok finally released her. She couldn't speak, unwilling to bare her heart to this monster. He sighed at her hesitation. "So stubborn."

An ear splitting scream tore from Raiden's lips as the hand collared around his throat began to pulse with a red aura. Y/N scrambled to run to him, but Quan Chi was ready, pinning her arms to her side as Raiden thrashed in pain. Y/N tried to break away from the sorcerer, but his grip was unrelenting.

"Stop it! Stop, please, you're killing him!" Y/N shrieked, tears glimmering in her eyes as Raiden's torment continued. "Please!"

Shinnok snapped his fingers again and the aura dissipated. Raiden slumped, his bonds taking his weight as he struggled to catch his breath. Y/N tried to shrug off the sorcerer, desperate to go to him, but Shinnok stepped into her path and Quan Chi squeezed her harder in warning. She stilled under the fallen elder god's burning gaze.

"I will give you one last chance, my dear. Any more lies and I will continue Raiden's suffering. You will obey me, utterly, or I will take my ire out on him." Shinnok placed his hand under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze, reveling in watching her accept his power as absolute. "Now…"

"It's true. I love Lord Raiden. I've been halfway in love with him since we first met. Please don't… don't hurt him." Y/N choked. She could hear Raiden gasp behind them and she wished more than anything she could at least see his reaction. Instead, her cheeks burned with shame as she confessed her feelings under Shinnok's feverish gaze. She let her voice drop, pleading. "Please. I'll do anything you ask."

“Anything?” Shinnok repeated. His hand flexed under her chin and she shivered at the sudden hunger she could see in his eyes. He glanced over at Raiden, his face smug with victory. There was a shift in the air around them, a palpable tension that Y/N was terrified would soon snap. Raiden seemed to sense it too, his posture going stiff. Shinnok’s hand trailed down, tracing the line of Y/N’s sternum, tugging down the fabric of her tunic to expose the curve of her breasts. Y/N’s breath hitched, eyes wide with panic as the path of Shinnok’s fingers dipped below the fabric. His fingers pressed between her breasts, thumb stroking the soft expanse of skin he had exposed. “You’ve seen what will happen if you disobey me. Are you sure you want to promise anything?”

Y/N closed her eyes, swallowing thickly against the bile rising in her throat. Shinnok’s thumb continued its rhythmic pattern, almost soothing in its tenderness. There was no real choice in this situation. Anything she did short of what he wished would result in Raiden’s continued torture, and likely her own. Yet, to submit to this monster was it’s own torture in a way. How could she ever face Raiden? Whatever affection they harbored for each other would be forever tainted by this. She shivered as Shinnok continued to stare her down, his milky white eyes still hungry; still promising a torment sweeter, yet more insidious than anything she’d suffered yet. Y/N exhaled slowly as she nodded in assent.

“Y/N, don’t! You don’t have to do his bidding!” Raiden roared. “Leave her alone, Shinnok!" He strained hard enough against his bonds that Y/N almost thought his muscles would tear. Shinnok glared at the thunder god.

“Be silent, you impetuous fool!” Shinnok barked. Y/N felt a slight tingle around her neck, before the same red aura was encompassing her. The pain she felt was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. As if all her flesh was being peeled away at once and a fire was set to smolder in her every nerve. She screamed, thrashing in Quan Chi’s hold as if tearing herself away from the sorcerer might somehow end her torment. Shinnok pivoted, allowing Raiden to watch as she squirmed and sobbed.

“ENOUGH! CEASE THIS NEEDLESS TORTURE!” Raiden bellowed, howling in rage as the pain only grew more intense. "Please!"

“I said be silent!” Shinnok replied, calm, unfazed in the face of Raiden’s anger. Shinnok waited, satisfied as Raiden’s mouth snapped shut. “Better. Much better.” The aura disappeared around Y/N and she collapsed forward, muscles weak and trembling. Quan Chi released her with a laugh and she stumbled straight into Shinnok who caught her weight with a chuckle. Y/N shivered as his hands settled on her hips, helping her to right herself.

“I don’t enjoy hurting you this way.” Shinnok stroked his hand along her hip soothingly, enjoying how she trembled in fear beneath his fingers. “However, sometimes pain is necessary and you do scream ever so sweetly.” Shinnok smiled at her, gentle, but filled with sinister promise. “As much as I enjoy forcing you into compliance, Raiden, I do hate being interrupted.” Shinnok added. He snapped his fingers and Y/N heard a muffled shout as the hand that had earlier muzzled Raiden clamped back into place. He locked eyes with Y/N and she could see the regret and anguish in those orbs. Y/N tried to convey some reassurance, but knew it fell flat in the face of what was to come.

“Now, my dear Y/N.” Shinnok grinned, eyes focused intently on her. “I want you to remove your clothes. Let me see your true beauty you attempt to conceal.” Y/N could feel that cold pit in her stomach turn to steel and drop. She let any protest die on her lips, flinching when Shinnok’s hand went to rest under his chin, studying her intensely. She glanced back at Quan Chi, the sorcerer smirking at her impending humiliation, before returning to meet Shinnok’s gaze. With shaky hands, she slowly set about removing her clothing. Layer by layer she stripped down, cheeks burning with shame as she let the garments fall around her. When the last piece fell to the ground she stepped forward, untangling her legs from the mess, and placing her mere inches from the fallen god. She glanced quickly at Raiden, her blush growing deeper at the gravity of his gaze on her naked form.

“Such a gorgeous young woman isn’t she, Raiden?” Shinnok chuckled. Raiden growled in response which only seemed to spur Shinnok on. He traced the line of Y/N’s jaw, hand drifting back until it was threaded with her hair. Y/N wasn’t prepared as Shinnok clenched his fist, tugging fiercely at her hair, or for the sudden shove he added, and her knees cracked against the obsidian tiles with a loud clack. She cried out at both the sting along her scalp and the impact from her fall, even as Shinnok rubbed at her head soothingly. Y/N glared up at the god, dread growing with every breath as he smiled down at her. “I think my new pet deserves a treat for behaving so well.”

She watched in horror as Shinnok unhooked his belt, allowing his waist cape to fall to the ground with it, all while continuing to stroke her hair, slowly drawing his hand closer to her lips. He shifted slightly, ensuring Raiden could see what came next unobstructed. He continued to fuss with his pants, slowly drawing them down until his cock sprang free. Y/N sucked in a sharp breath. She had never seen a man’s sex so up close before and had to force herself to not jerk away, knowing any resistance might be taken as disobedience. Y/N would not give Shinnok a reason to torture Raiden. He slipped two fingers into her mouth, pressing down just slightly on her tongue and Y/N nearly gagged at the intrusion. His other hand gripped the base of his cock, stroking it a few times languidly as he watched her internal struggle.

“Come now, pet.” Shinnok licked his lips. “You're such a good girl for me. I want you to worship my cock with this sweet mouth.” Y/N watched in horror as his cock twitched. It was only half hard and bigger than anything she had ever imagined. She swallowed the urge to gag as Shinnok pulled back, letting his hands drop to his side and forcing her to take initiative. Hesitantly, Y/N reached out, wrapping her hands around the thick appendage. The skin was much softer than she expected and she stroked it experimentally, feeling it twitch in her hand. Shinnok seemed content to let her set the pace, for now, though Y/N wasn’t sure how long that patience would last.

She drew close, letting one hand drop to rest against his thigh and gave his cock an experimental lick along the underside. She continued to give it kitten licks over the head and along the thick vein on the side, adjusting to the salty taste of pre-cum leaking from the tip. This close she could smell the thick, musky scent of the elder god mixed with the ever present sulfur smell of netherrealm clogging her nostrils and making her dizzy. She took the head into her mouth, sucked once, then pushed forward until the weight of it was heavy on her tongue. Her teeth grazed the soft skin, causing Shinnok to hiss in pain. He threaded his finger in her hair and yanked her back, making her yelp. She had to dig her hands into the fabric of his pants to maintain her balance.

“If I feel those teeth again you will regret it, pet.” He growled. Y/N coughed, cheeks burning brilliantly as she glared up at him.

“I haven’t…” Y/N grit her teeth, wanting to bite back the admission. It only took an image of Raiden thrashing in pain to force the words out in a rush. “I haven’t done this before.” Shinnok’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, then an expression of pure rapture spread over his countenance.

“I had no idea I had the honor of being your first.” Shinnok grinned. He couldn’t help glancing smugly at Raiden. The burning hatred in Raiden’s eyes made shinnok's cock twitch eagerly. “Curl your lips around your teeth.” Shinnok instructed, guiding Y/N’s head back to his cock. He grasped the base, feeding his cock into her mouth slowly, relishing the hot, wet slide as she followed his directions. “Use your tongue. More,” He sighed. “Just like that, pet. Relax your jaw, It’s quite large for your first.” Y/N swirled her tongue around the head of it, her hand drifting up to take over for Shinnok and stroke the length she couldn’t fit into her mouth. “Don’t forget to suck, when you’re ready.”

Y/N pulled back, taking a deep breath before diving back in. She wanted to get this over quickly. She took Shinnok in deeper, until she could feel him pushing at the back of her throat. She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to gag as she began bobbing her head on his length, sucking at the head and swirling her tongue along the glands. His cock was thick, stretching her jaw painfully and too long to fit the entire thing in her mouth comfortably. She continued to stroke what wouldn’t fit, pulling off to catch her breath and slurping along that thick vein before taking him in again.

Shinnok kept one hand on her head, a contented sigh on his lips as he felt that tight, hot pleasure pooling in his guts. She was definitely a quick learner, her intense focus allowing her to read the minute twitch of his thigh or his cock to know what she was doing well. The hand she had previously braced on his thigh disappeared under his pants and Shinnok moaned as she fondled his balls, stroking and massaging them in tandem with the bobbing of her head. He jerked forward, the first physical sign he was actually enjoying this and Y/N pulled away with a cough as his cock hit the back of her throat. He shuddered at the tight squeeze he had felt before she’d pulled away. Her eyes were slightly glazed, lips red and swollen, with spit and pre-cum smeared along her chin.

With a sudden growl his hands dug into her head, yanking her back onto his cock and pushing his way past that sweet resistance to plunge down her throat. She choked, gagging around his length as she felt her nose nestled against the dusting of hair at the base of his cock. She felt him moan as she gagged again, unable to breathe, scrambling to push him away. He held her in place, relishing the way she swallowed around his cock, amused by the way her hands fumbled in the folds of his pants. He wished he could see if her throat was bulging around him. Distantly, he could see Raiden begin thrashing anew and decided that the only thing sweeter than taking his pleasure from the body of Raiden's love would be to hear the aforementioned god begging on her behalf. He let the muzzle fall away and was not disappointed.

“Release her! She’s choking! She can’t breathe, by the elder gods, stop this!” Raiden roared. Shinnok moaned louder, but relented, pulling back just enough for Y/N to draw in a ragged breath. She swallowed painfully, eliciting a shudder from the elder god. He kept one hand in her hair, the other he trailed down to rest against her throat, taking in the sight of her beautiful, fucked out face.

“Once again you presume to order me around Raiden?” Shinnok chided. “Have you not learned your lesson?” He stroked Y/N’s hair as he began to thrust his cock shallowly into her mouth. “I tried to make it easy for you by muzzling you. After all, you can hardly get in trouble if you can’t speak.” His gentle rocking began to pick up. Y/N was still light headed from before, she weakly tried to swirl her tongue along his length, but Shinnok didn’t seem to mind her lackluster attempts. He kept steadily thrusting harder, deeper, feeling her throat contract around him further and further as Y/N concentrated on breathing, on fighting the urge to gag. Tears spilled from her eyes and her throat ached as Shinnok fucked it mercilessly. “You will not speak unless I order it, Raiden, or it will be Y/N who suffers the consequences. I can make this pleasurable for her or I can make it hurt. The choice is yours.” He chuckled as Raiden’s mouth snapped shut, eyes burning with fury.

Shinnok continued to fuck into Y/N’s throat, elated in having subdued his rival, orgasm approaching quickly as he watched her expression become soft and lax around his cock. Y/N’s head was fuzzy, the lack of air made her feel like she was floating as she relaxed further around Shinnok’s cock. He slammed into her once more and Y/N felt his length spasm as something thick and warm shot down her throat. She was forced to swallow, hearing Shinnok moan as his hand traced her throat where it stretched taut around him. He was still cumming as he slowly pulled back, rope after rope of his salty essence filled her mouth until finally he withdrew with a satisfied sigh. A few final spurts of his seed landed along her chin and the swell of her breasts.

“Swallow it.” He ordered before she could spit any out. Y/N did so, letting her mouth fall open after for him to inspect and he groaned appreciatively at how fucked out she looked. Her lips were an angry red, tears dripping from her eyes, and her face flushed so beautifully. She was drawing in rasping breaths, her eyes glazed over as she rocked back to sit on her heels. She looked up at him, hands resting on her thighs, and he couldn’t help but swipe his hand through the cum coating her face, collecting most of it on his fingertips. He fed it to her, pressing the salty fluid to her tongue and didn’t even have to give an order before she started cleaning his fingers gently. She suckled at them softly, her face burning with shame as she swallowed down more of his seed. He tugged them free with a pop, tracing a line from her chin down to the thick rope of seed on her chest. He massaged the sticky seed into the swell of her breast, marking her, staking a claim on her for Raiden to see.

“Such a sweet girl, behaving so well for me, pet.” Shinnok praised. She wanted to feel disgusted by his praise, but she was still coming down from her high and his words brushed over her nerves like silk, making her tingle and shiver with pin pricks of pleasure. “You did such a good job for your first time, taking me so well.” The praise crashed down on her, pleasure shooting straight to her core and she felt her cunt become slick as she bit back a moan. She squirmed, thighs pressed together, seeking any kind of friction. She ached to touch herself, and had to clench her hands to keep them still. Shinnok hadn’t given her permission to touch and she refused to do something unless he specifically ordered it. She prayed the fallen god wouldn’t notice how his words were affecting her. He didn’t seem to, content to continue rubbing slow circles into her skin as she recovered. Unfortunately, someone else had been watching her much more intensely.

“My lord, I believe your new pet is rather enjoying your praises.” Quan Chi chuckled. Shinnok glanced at Quan Chi, following his gaze to where it rested between her legs. He could see a few drops of liquid against the obsidian tiles beneath her, watched her thighs tremble and the way her face grew hotter was all the confirmation he needed. Shinnok smirked.

“Is my sorcerer correct, my pet? Do you like it when I tell you how sweet you are?” Shinnok dropped to one knee, hand hooking under her chin to force her to face him. “Such a sweet, gorgeous creature. You looked so beautiful swallowing down my cock. So lovely.” Shinnok grinned. He rested his other hand on her hip and could feel her squirming beneath the tips of his fingers. “Didn’t she look absolutely divine as she choked me down, Raiden?” His smirk grew wider, triumphant, as her body spasmed sharply. He could see more of her slick juices pooling along her crease, dripping onto the floor beneath her. He let his hand drift closer, swiping at it with his thumb. Y/N’s breath hitched at the shock of pleasure that gentle touch elicited. Shinnok glanced over at Raiden expectantly, savoring the war that waged behind the thunder god’s eyes, knowing that Raiden would have to answer, lest Shinnok unleash his wrath on Y/N. He leaned in closer to Y/N, lips inches from hers even as he kept his eyes trained on Raiden. “Come now, Raiden. She did so well for her first time. Surely she deserves some recognition.”

“You were beautiful, Y/N.” Raiden swallowed down the bile in his throat, choking on the words as her eyes met his. She was close enough that he could see how her breath became shallow, her body twitching in response to him and his own cock spasmed at the sight. He felt sick with guilt at how his body was reacting to just the sight of her laid bare before him. He reveled in how, despite this nightmare, she seemed to react so keenly to his voice, to his eyes boring into hers with such ferocity. Shinnok may have been the one touching her, but it was his gaze, his presence that brought her pleasure. It was enough encouragement for him to speak up. “You looked so perfect, so gorgeous, taking his cock so well. Absolutely beautiful.”

Y/N whimpered as her core clenched tight with pleasure from hearing Raiden speak such filthy things. Shinnok grinned, feeling another slick rush of fluid around his thumb. He pressed it deeper into her crease, teasing her clit as she gasped, hands reaching up to clench at the folds of his tabards (the god was shirtless beneath), steadying herself as she shamelessly spread her legs a little, allowing him better access. His other hand drew her face closer as he claimed her lips with his own. He kept up the gentle circles as he plundered her mouth, relishing the little ‘ah’ ‘ah’ sounds she made against his mouth. He could taste the remnants of his spend on her tongue as he sucked on it lightly. She whimpered as he finally drew back, feeling elated.

“Was that your first kiss, pet?” Shinnok asked, his thumb stilling against her clit. Y/N shook her head, eyes clenched shut as she struggled to control her breathing. She hated how easily Shinnok could manipulate her body. She didn’t want this to feel good. Shinnok’s thumb pressed harder against her, making her gasp into his mouth as he kissed her again. “Tell me about it; about your first kiss.”

“It was…” Y/N keened as his thumb began to move again. His fingertips dug into her thigh for purchase as teased her with slow steady circles. Her breath grew shallow and her core clenched, aching and empty, and Y/N felt her skin flush hotter. She'd never felt these sensations before; never thought she could burn so hot as if her very nerves were being plucked like chords. Her eyes met Raiden's just as Shinnok's finger slid over her clit and she moaned, thready and high pitched, legs trembling with need. She drew in a ragged breath, but there was no reprieve from the relentless drag of Shinnok's fingers. She let her eyes fall shut, head thrown back on another moan because she could feel Raidens' eyes burning into her, tracing the curve of her heaving breast, memorizing the way her face looked flushed with pleasure, the sheen of her sweat-slicked skin. It was too much. Seeing how badly he desired her was making every touch of Shinnok's hotter, more intense.

“It was at the sky temple, just after we defeated Shao Kahn.'' She started again. Her voice was just a bit gravelly, still sore from how deep Shinnok had fucked her throat and hearing it seemed to invigorate him. His thumb pressed harder, the rough pad dragging over her clit faster and Y/N moaned again. “I was in the garden’s… oh… hah… at… at the sky temple with, ah, with Raiden. He… hah, ahh… he kissed me, ah, under the moonlight. It was so… ohh… so sweet… perfect.”

Shinnok paused his hand and Y/N slumped forward, keening as the slowly building pleasure in her core slipped away. Shinnok glanced up, surveyed the room with a critical eye. He hadn’t realized just how sweet a prize Quan Chi had brought him. He'd never anticipated she was so inexperienced, so virginal; tailor-made to torment the thunder god at the most primal level. His eyes fell on his faithful servant and he wasn’t surprised to see Quan Chi’s pants stretched taut and bulging. He would have to reward Quan Chi for his patience. Plus, sharing her body with the sorcerer would cut Raiden even deeper. To see the person he loved and desired taken apart for the first time by his most hated enemy already such delicious torment, but to allow Quan Chi to share in the experience would burn so much deeper into the thunder gods psyche.

What did surprise him was the equally straining erection tenting the Raiden's pants. He was a sight to behold. On his knees, wrists bound tight behind his back, his usual calm and serene composure lost to the raging storm Shinnok always knew was buried deep down. Even though the collar around his throat suppressed his powers, there was still lightning crackling around Raiden's eyes as he watched Shinnok teasing Y/N. Oh, but how ashamed he must feel, taking pleasure from this! Shinnok could hardly blame him. Y/N had been breathtaking as she'd quivered beneath his expert touch. Shinnok shuddered with inspiration.

He kissed Y/N again, slow drags of his lips caressing hers, distracting her as he guided her to the floor, pushing her hands up above her head. He only pulled back as one of his skeletal hands snapped around her wrists, pinning her to the floor. She looked so debauched, back arched high, legs still pinned beneath her, thighs spread to make room for him in their warm cradle. Y/N blinked up at him, dread creeping back into her stomach as she tested her strength against the bonds. They didn’t budge. Shinnok trailed his hands down her torso, relishing the softness of her flesh, so smooth, so delicate under his slender hands as they settled along her breasts. He took his time exploring the plush mounds, plucking at her taut nipples, observing how each slow tease wound her tighter. He let his mouth drop down, licking a stripe across one pebbled nub and she bucked up into him with a moan. He flicked his tongue over and over, relishing the way she squirmed beneath. Once he had it nice and hard he bit down, scraping over it with his teeth before soothing the sting with his tongue. He let it go with an exaggerated pop, fingers twisting the now moist nub as he repeated this on her other side. Gods, he loved how responsive she was and pulled away to tell her just that.

“You respond so beautifully to my touch.” Shinnok grinned, knowing the praise would only drive her closer to the edge. “Such a sweet pet, moaning so prettily for me.” He kissed his way down her ribcage, licked a stripe from her belly button to the top of her crease. His hands followed the trail of his lips, skimming over her ribs, her hips, until his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her thighs.

He trailed them lower, hooked his fingers under her knees to manipulate her legs more easily. He guided them out from under her so her feet could rest on the floor. He didn’t want to hurt her and this new position allowed him to spread her legs wider, pushing them out and away so he could finally reveal her tight cunt. Y/N's legs instinctively tried to clench shut, but Shinnok only needed to squeeze once in warning for her to relax and let them fall apart around him.

“Good girl,” Shinnok crooned, hands trailing back up to squeeze at the soft swell of her flesh where her thighs met her core. He leaned in, licking a stripe from her hole to the top of her cunt, feeling her jerk and spasm under his finger tips. She tasted even sweeter than he had imagined, already wet and weeping from his attentions. He licked his lips, chasing that taste as he glanced at Raiden. “She tastes heavenly, Raiden, so deliciously sweet. She's already so wet for me, aren’t you, my dear?” He swiped a finger through her juices then traced it over her lips, grinning as her tongue darted out to taste. She shuddered as his thumb went back to her clit, flicking it harshly before sliding over it, down until it caught against the entrance of her pussy. He pushed in slowly, eyes still trained on Raiden as she arched her back and keened. “So, so sweet.”

He pushed his thumb deeper, deeper, pulling out only to push in again, watching her thrash in delicious torment. It was just enough pressure to drive her mad without pushing her over the edge. He kept at it, leaning in every so often to lap up the slick flooding out of her, teasing her until she had tears in her eyes again. Finally, he reached up to cup her jaw, forcing her to look at him. She looked absolutely desperate and that’s exactly how he wanted her. His eyes flicked up to lock with Quan Chi, a meaningful smirk on his face, and a matching grin spread across Quan Chi's lips as the sorcerer made his way toward the pair.

“You were so beautiful earlier, swallowing my cock, and my cum, and you’ve been so well behaved for me.” He pulled his thumb out of her with a soft pop, bringing it up so she could watch him suck the juices off with a moan. “Such a sweet, wonderful pet.” He grinned viciously. “You taste so divine, pet, that I can’t resist the temptation to feast. I’m going to fuck you with my tongue, suck out every last drop of your sweet fluid.” Shinnok grinned as Y/N’s breath hitched. His hands returned to Y/N's thighs, squeezing gently as Quan Chi dropped down beside her. Y/N gasped, watching the sorcerer free his aching cock from the tight confines of his pants. “I think my servant deserves a reward for his patience, don't you? It isn't often he brings me a gift this sweet. I trust you’ll take care of him as well as you did me.” Y/N nodded, her throat already aching at the thought and she let out a raspy 'yes'. "Good girl."

Y/N shuddered as Shinnok made his way back down to stare at her core. Her hands were still tightly bound, so all she could do was watch and wait for them to act. To use her as they pleased. Quan Chi was stroking his length, one hand settling in her hair to turn her head his way. She couldn't help but stare in horror as his massive cock grew thicker as he stroked it. She could already feel it filling out her throat, choking her, thicker already than Shinnok's though thankfully not quite as long. Y/N wondered, briefly, if Raiden was as well endowed; if he’d fill her throat the way Shinnok had. She had a flash of him in Quan Chi's position, feeding her his cock, her mouth stretched over it. Her whole body spasmed and a rush of slick soaked her cunt as she clenched tight at her core. She heard Shinnok gasp, watched Quan Chi pause, his cock inches from her lips as he glanced down to where the former elder god was transfixed on her slick cunt.

"My my, you just gushed my dear. We’re not even touching you yet look how utterly drenched you are. That eager for another cock in your throat?" Shinnok goaded, his thumbs pressed into her thighs as he looked at her. She shook her head, mortified at how her body reacted. "No? Then tell me, what made you so desperately wet?" He rubbed circles into her thighs, his breath hot against her soaked core, and Y/N felt tears prick her eyes again. "Use your words, pet. Tell me what you were thinking that made you soak my floors with your sweet juices."

"I… I,"Y/N keened as Shinnok's thumbs teased her skin, so tantalizingly close to her slick core. She couldn't help but glance over at Raiden. Gods, he was so close, only a couple yards away at most, but it felt like miles with how desperate she was to touch him. Just to interlock her fingers with his would be enough. She flushed as Raiden's eyes raked across her body and she looked away again. "I wondered if… if Raiden’s… if his cock was this large. I was thinking what it would be like to feel him down my throat. " Y/N whimpered. She wished the floor would open to swallow her. She couldn't meet Raiden's gaze, but there was no mistaking the aborted whimper that tore from his throat, or the ragged breaths that followed as he tried to keep his composure.

"I bet he wouldn't disappoint," Shinnok teased. "Look at how desperate he is. You can see how hard his cock is, straining his pants, soiling them with his seed. He's as wet for it as you are. He would fill you so good, so full, spilling down your throat and feeding you his cum." Shinnok pressed his nose against her cunt, inhaled that sweet scent as more juice gushed out of her. He nodded to Quan Chi, permission to continue as he nuzzled the inside of her thigh, his left hand drifting closer and closer to her core. "Go ahead and think of him, if you want. Take Quan Chi's cock like the sweet girl you are and think of your thunder god watching you come apart in front of his eyes."

Y/N whined, her breath caught in her throat, as Shinnok pressed his tongue flat against her hole, dragging it over her clit and back down. Her mouth fell open as he lapped up the mess that had already spilled out of her and Quan Chi took the opportunity to push forward, filling her mouth with the thick head of his cock. Y/N moaned around him, tongue swiping automatically over the tip, tasting the trickle of pre-cum that had collected there. She bobbed her head forward, sucking him deeper into her mouth, as far as she could with the limited range of motion she had. Her hands clenched into fists as she strained against the bonds.

Shinnok's tongue was like a hot brand on her cunt, expertly working her over. She felt pleasure building in her core as he sucked on her throbbing clit, swirling his tongue over the sensitive nub, her body responding beautifully to his touch. He worked his way down, savoring the taste as he lapped at her tight entrance before spearing her open with his tongue. She spasmed, body jerking under his hands as she pulled off Quan Chi with a high pitched whine. He fucked his tongue into her ruthlessly, delighted at the breathy moans leaving her as she took Quan Chi's cock back into her mouth. He released her thigh, bringing one finger up to toy with her folds before pushing it inside her, feeling her clamp down on the invading digit as he fucked it into her alongside his tongue.

Quan Chi groaned when Y/N spasmed around his cock, popping it out of her mouth with the most delicious cry of ecstasy. She was a truly magnificent sight, body flushed, spread open for them like a whore. He gave her a moment to revel in her pleasure before he directed her back onto his cock. Her chest was heaving, breathy moans reverberating around his thick shaft as she swirled her tongue over his glands. He gave an experimental thrust, pleased when she didn't immediately gag from his cock hitting the back of her throat. He thrust again, harder, more insistent, pushing through that tight resistance as she slurped at his length. She was drooling as he thrust again, a thin trickle of saliva leaking out, the very portrait of sin.

Y/N keened as Shinnok pushed a second finger into her, pumping them slowly and meticulously as he continued to suckle at her swollen clit. She felt her core growing tighter, hotter, pleasure building molten and heavy, threatening to spill over. Her jaw ached, stretched around the thick cock in her throat. Her thighs were quivering as Shinnok broke her down to nothing but moans and sobs of gut wrenching ecstasy. She felt that peak quickly approaching, back arching off the floor, tight as a bow string and Shinnok ripped his fingers free just before she could spill over. She barely had time to breathe before his hand came down on her clit, slapping it hard, firm, sending a bolt of pain/pleasure through her core and punching the air from her lungs.

Her throat squeezed tightly around Quan Chi and he laughed, breathy and smug, as he fucked into her throat harder, chasing his release. Shinnok slapped her again, striking over her quivering entrance, across her clit, his other hand tracing a path to her chest to toy with one of her breasts. Quan Chi stilled his thrusts, used the hand threading her hair to push her head up and down his cock, relishing the gagging, obscene noises she made as Shinnok began alternating between fucking into her tight channel with his tongue, before pulling back to smack her throbbing pussy. Each time he brought his hand down her body jerked, throat contracting deliciously around Quan Chi's cock. He began to thrust again, holding her head still and reaching down to tweak her neglected nipple between his fingers, mirroring his master's work. He felt his peak quickly approaching, his thrusts growing erratic as he pushed deep, deep into her throat. He held her there as he came, groaning with pleasure as he shot his seed down her throat. He pulled back just enough to let her inhale, tears dripping down her face, mixing with his cum as it spilled out around his cock. He continued to fill her throat, gagging her as he kept thrusting, riding out his orgasm, his cock stayed heavy on her tongue as the last weak spurt hit the back of her throat. She swallowed the thick, salty cum, licking the traces of it clean from his cock until he began to squirm from overstimulation and he pulled out of her with an obscene pop.

Shinnok gave her cunt one last smack, feeling her body go taut and plunged his fingers back inside her. He pumped them hard, fast, pushing up into the sweet spot inside of her relentlessly. His mouth latched onto her clit and he felt her gasp, then scream as she shook, squirting around his fingers, coating his hand, his mouth, even hitting his chest with her sweet juices. He didn't slow, didn't falter, forced her orgasm out of her wave by wave until her whole body went limp and she was quivering under him. He lapped up the mess, feasting on the rich taste. He could hear her aborted attempts to ask him to please stop, each time catching herself before she could give voice to the command.

Y/N was definitely floating now. She felt Quan Chi's hand caress her neck and hissed at how tender it was. His prodding was gentle, but methodical, taking stock of any damage that had been done. Her muscles were twitching, her nerves all on fire as that euphoria slowly faded. Shinnok's hand was a grounding presence against her thigh as she struggled to catch her breath. She hated how good the weight of it felt, as if it was the only thing that kept her anchored to reality. She tugged at the restraints on her hand, surprised when the pressure lifted. She didn't know what to do with them, moving at all seemed too difficult a task, so she simply left them above her head, letting the muscles relax as she continued to float.

For Raiden, it took everything in his power to stay silent, lest he incur Shinnok's wrath. He would make the elder god pay for this, he swore, but right now all he could think about was checking in with Y/N. He cursed silently as Shinnok and Quan Chi did nothing, content to watch the rise and fall of her chest, the way she trembled under their gentle caresses. It should be his hands holding her, soothing her, bringing her such pleasure. Shame welled up in him. He shouldn't be thinking of her like this. She shouldn't be in this position at all, yet it was hard to consider anything else but how desperate he was to hold her, to taste her, to take her apart under his hands. His cock was so hard and full it hurt. The silence stretched on until Raiden couldn't stand it another minute.

"Y/N. Are you alright?" His voice croaked, hoarse from both screaming and from the lust he tried so desperately to conceal.

"Speaking out of turn again? After Y/N has been so good for us?" Shinnok chided softly. "You are truly testing my patience, Raiden." Raiden growled, his fury growing by the second. Shinnok tapped Y/N on the cheek gently. "Come on, sweet girl, open your eyes for me. Let's see how you are fairing." Y/N groaned, her eyes snapping open to meet his own and she gave a shaky nod. Shinnok clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Use your words, pet. Your Thunder God is worried about you."

"I'm…" Y/N whimpered, her throat grating painfully as she tried to speak. She could barely manage more than a whisper. "I… it hurts. Please don't… hurts," was all she managed to whisper. Quan Chi stroked his hand over her throat softly.

"The poor dear. We really did a number on this, didn't we?" Quan Chi murmured, his deep voice reverberating through her. He glanced at Shinnok questioningly and at his master's assent he muttered softly under his breath, hand glowing and healing the tender flesh below. Y/N whimpered gratefully as the pain slowly faded. Her voice was still hoarse, but she sounded much less strained as she managed a soft thanks. Quan Chi brushed his fingers across her throat once more, reverently, before drawing up to full height, tucking his softening cock away with a groan.

"With respect, Shinnok, it appears one of my men has returned with another earthrealm prisoner. " Quan Chi added with a frown. "I should check in. If you have need of me?" The question trailed off, inviting orders from the fallen god.

"You're dismissed, Quan Chi. I expect a full report later on. I will call for you if I need assistance " Shinnok dismissed him with a wave and soon enough it was just him alone with Y/N, her hand slung over her face to hide her shame, and Raiden, who seemed on the verge of hysteria seeing Y/N like this.

***link to part two will be posted once it's finished; if anyone wants to comment it might help spur some inspiration to get it completed sooner***

The original character in this story is the twin sister of the OC that inspired my Rain x Male reader one shot 'Tease' if anyone is curious

#Mortal Kombat #Mk Shinnok #MK Raiden #Lord Raiden #MK #Raiden x Reader #Shinnok x Reader #Shinnok x Reader and Raiden x reader #This wasn't meant to be so lengthy #pure self indulgence #Shinnok #Raiden #chibikaosu writes

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liesmyth · 1 year

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do you have favorite jod fics you'd recommend? i love your tlt opinions and am also a filthy john understander, but totally new to the fandom's fic scene

HI. YES. This is the rec list I was born to make. My shitty little meow meow. My insufferable babygirl. I do have fics. They're good :)

Written for me (ME!):

(I sat on this ask for a couple days so that I could acknowledge the authors on these fics that just revealed today. They cater perfectly to my tastes and everyone should read them.)

and my mouth isn't filled with blood, it's victory wine by @widespindriftgaze; John/Ianthe, pre-NtN, rated E, gore

You like forcing yourself to do gross things. This is called having character. Ianthe gets haunted, makes a power play, and smokes a cigarette.

Sex Education by @theriverbeyond; John & Gideon, pre-NtN, rated T

In which God explains condoms, consent, and how babies are made, and Prince Kiriona Gaia considers the pros and cons of being jettisoned out into the vacuum of space

(John gives Kiriona "the talk")

Other faves!! These are John & Gideon:

A Mild Sort of Resurrection by sigaloenta; Bari Star AU, rated G

In all the extensive special briefings and all-hands bulletins and strict sets of orders preparatory to the Emperor Divine's inspection tour of the Avernus, no one had considered that God might desire to fetch Himself a coffee.

"Fuck it, I'm adopting her," said John Gaius, not knowing the paperwork wasn't necessary by @naamah-beherit; John & Gideon AU, rated T

Gideon, a highly distinguished Cohort lieutenant, saves the day—and the girl—and then gets stuck in the lift of The Erebos with a man feeding her peanuts as if they have all the time in the world. They don't, but if he doesn't mind, then why should she?

now that you're sleeping by elijah_was_a_prophet; John & Kiriona pre NtN, rated M for mega dead

After-hours blues

John + Alecto, after the end:

moving upon the face of the waters by bittybelle; Alecto/John, rated M

You kissed John like the animal you had become, and he responded with the fealty of a child, and then with the force of a god, and then with the passion of the abandoned.

so I open the window to hear sounds of people by @sunderedstar; Alecto & John, rated T

He misses the beach. The real beach. The current one is mostly soil with a lacy veneer of nuclear ash, clammy and streaky and hilariously radioactive, which is a real bummer when he thinks about it too hard.

Some gen fic!!

recognize them by their fruits by ceruleanVulpine; Ianthe & John post HtN, rated T

John and Ianthe deal with the fact that his only remaining Lyctor is the one he never liked much. Maybe they can bond over the fact that they're both egotistical manipulators who lie like breathing? No? Also, God sees ghosts. Ianthe doesn't help.

John 25:12 by @halfeatenmoon; Pre-resurrection gang, John & G1deon

John and his friends escape the cow fortress to spend Christmas Day at the beach. With beer, salads, pavlova, and the corpses of a million fish killed by nuclear weapons testing.

Assorted lyctor shipfic:

choking on your leash by @augustmourn cult era John/A- , rated E + dubcon

He wanted to fuck John because he cared about him, even if he couldn't say it out loud. He didn't want to fuck John as a convenient way for both of them to have a better orgasm, like they always had; he didn't want to fuck John to stop him from killing off another hundred cops. But he would do anything for John. He'd known that in his bones for a long, long time.

colder than empires, and deader too by cadmean; rated E, dubcon + some gore

Drenched in the blood of his oldest sister and staring death (God; but really, where is the difference?) in the face, Augustine makes a different choice.

nature/nurture by Marenke; John/Augustine pre NtN speculation about the memory wipe. Rated G

There’s a little movement Augustine does - a flick of his wrist when he lits up a cigarette - that, some days, feels like the only reminiscent of him before he died.

This War of Attrition by @seven-syntheseas; Augustine/John/Mercy longfic, rated E (30k, complete)

attrition (n.): 1. sorrow for one’s sins stemming from a motive other than that of the love of God; 2. friction.

Or, put simply: Dios Apate. Major.

Self promo corner! I'm not above self reccing, so here are my jodfics. (Surprisingly, they reflect my tastes perfectly.)

John & Kiriona + John & others, post-HtN fic about God's upcoming midlife crisis: towery city amongst the stars; rated T

John & Augustine with shippy vibes, pre-canon: dreams of the ones who came before us, rated T

John/G1deon, pre-canon: dead and old and always hungry, rated E

Alecto/John, after the nukes: sign my death with your teeth, rated E + gore

Primarily a Ianthe fic but John is in there and it was very fun to write: after me, the flood, rated E, horror elements, Ianthe/Augustine + Ianthe & John

Kind of an ensemble fic but John's in it (and he's the only one having a good time) HtN AU: Housing Crisis! at the Mithraeum, rated T

#Anonymous #fic recs #tlt fic #ejg #ask #tlt

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omgkalyppso · 4 days

Text

things I would like to know about fellow writers

I was tagged by @dustdeepsea, thank you!! (:

Putting a cut in this because I'm very specific in some sexual language (not about my sexual history).

For this reason I'm too shy to tag anyone else, but if you see this and want to answer the questions, please consider yourself tagged by me.

Last book I read: The last book I finished must've been American Gods.

Greatest literary inspiration: I don't know. I like reading for reading and for learning, but no one that I really want to write like, and I feel bad for naming big names, still. JRR Tolkien, Douglas Adams, Diane Duane, Isaac Asimov (the short story Liar! has really stuck with me). And even then, that might influence how I used to write original fiction, but not at all how I write fanfiction, which I do almost exclusively now. I write far more original poetry than original fiction, and then ... I'm inspired by my mother, people in my community, all the music I listen to.

My fanfiction is a little inspired by my friends. I was going to link their a/o3 accounts but realized they may not want that. fghdfghdfg

Things in my current fandom I want to read but I don't want to write: Let's think of 3 for bg3 and 3 for fire emblem.

Vlaakith's defeat. - Idk enough about githyanki politics / how many "elite" forces (if any) are at her disposal.

Minsc's homecoming. - I feel like I'd have to play the first two games to be up to this.

He Who Was in control of his faculties but subbing very sweetly for Tav/Durge of any gender with bondage, hair pulling, overstimulation, spanking and the presence of a knife (I'd say knifeplay, but I don't mean bloodplay / cutting for him). - Reminder that this isn't a w/endy's, it's my blog.

Slowburn, longfic of Marianne moving to Faerghus with her eventual marriage to Dimitri. - Time.

Shura holding Kana for the first time. - I could write this. I won't.

Kink scene, free-use Hilda where her inner monologue is as complex as she is while still being wildly indulgent. - I started this wip; Hubert was also up for grabs in it. But it isn't happening.

Wait, also, Sylvain x Mercedes x Dedue starting a relationship with miscommunication and pining. - Planning this feels hard. fghdfg

Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me:

With the note that I know I have at least 5 enablers who will (probably?? fdghfgdhfdg) always express interest in my completion of a project even if the won't read it, and so "nobody" being interested applies to strangers:

Komira and Locke, either domesticity or sexual intimacy.

A fic where Wyll and Ulder talk and it results in reconciliation, and then a bigger rift, and then understanding (people really don't like Ulder).

My Blaiddyd Bastard oc Almanzor learning to let go of the hang-ups on sex his parents gave him and fucking my oc Peregrine.

My oc Fae as a Student AU longfic.

You can recognise my writing by: The temptation to insult my own writing is so, so strong, but I don't mean to insult anyone who reads my stuff and enjoys it so I have to be nice. Hm. I don't know. "The way I write dialogue / inner reflection" is vague, but it's all I've got.

My most controversial take (current fandom): You guys (gender neutral and vague) can't call that shit self-insert if it's a non-human Tav (or Durge). It's first or second person writing (often, and not even always lately???), and x Reader fic, but self-insert To Me means that either any reader or at least the author has to be able to picture themself Being Inserted into the story. I haven't seen 1 isekai situation using this tag, which isn't a requirement, but you're giving the self-insert tiefling-tails and backstories, which is fun, but that's not a self-insert to me.

Top three favourite tropes: Slowburn (or emotional slowburn, sexually complicated), Hurt/Comfort (emotional or physical, whatever), Battle Relationship.

What’s your current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): How current is current? Because potentially 0/10. I'll say 4/10 though.

Share a random frustration: I hate psyching myself out of a project because I worry something won't make sense (and I should post it anyway) or that it won't be up to my personal standards for myself.

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eilidh-eternal · 3 months

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HOW DO PEOPLE WRITE SMUT??

I've been trying to write a chapter in a fiction book I'm writing and idk how to do it properly 😭😭

I've read copious amount of smut, and yet I'm stuck, help 😰

-🌈💋anon

Hi love! I'm not sure how much help I can really offer, but here's some advice from a reader-turned-writer.

I wanna start with this: It's always going to feel a little cringe when you're learning, and that is Completely Normal!

It could be the most tame, vanilla, soft sex, or the kinkiest, hardcore smut you can't even believe you dreamt up. It's going to feel really weird writing it because you have to think about it. You're plotting and planning and deciding how these two, or more, people are gonna get down and dirty, and that really isn't something that happens when you actually do it.

Sure you daydream, fantasize, imagine what certain positions might feel like, what your partner will look like—but you're not really planning anything.

Sex is, largely, a spontaneous act. Our brains receive and perceive external stimuli and translate it into desire, desires that take shape in many different ways from person to person. We act on what we feel in those moments of desire, let instinct take over, so It's the thinking that makes the process feel, at least for me and in this particular context, awkward and stilted. Thinking about what's happening too much can pull me, as a reader, writer and participant, out of the moment and ruin the experience. Hence why the thinking part of writing it makes it feel so... meh. Embrace the spontaneity of the act when you're writing and focus your thoughts instead on the most important part, in my opinion—how what's currently happening feels for your characters.

The second part of this is going to be personal because sex is just that—a highly personal experience that we all have boundaries and personal preferences for which dictate how we experience it. Those boundaries, preferences, or a lack of experience with a certain kink, lifestyle or even position can also contribute to that awkward feeling.

Don't shy away from drawing on your own experiences for inspiration or guidance either, even if you haven't done the exact things you're writing! Fall back on the emotion you experienced, let your characters feel the same things you felt, and build off of that. If something feels good you probably don't want it to stop, right? What did you do to chase that particular feeling? What stimuli did you respond to in that moment that made you feel that way and how did you get more of it? These are the main factors that lead to changes in or the maintaining of position, pace, power dynamics, toys, etc..

It will take some practice, as all writing does, to learn how to let these scenes flow out of you naturally instead of trying to map out every single thing your characters do in detail. In the meantime, focusing on feelings rather than mechanics will help you avoid a lack of emotion and prevent you from neglecting the inner monologue or omniscient narration of what's going through a characters mind when they're in the moment. leaving out this context makes the scene feel more robotic, less organic, when the only thing being described is what's happening mechanically and nothing is said about how a character feels emotionally or physically; i.e., “going through the motions.”

This last bit is a very nit-picky subject, but the wording you use to describe anatomy can make your writing feel too clinical or immature depending on what you choose. For me, things like "cunny", "goey", "gummy" and "spongey" used in reference to the female anatomy feels more immature, lacks the finer details that could more vividly describe the experience. Using proper anatomical terms that you wouldn't normally use in the bedroom, like penis, labia, vagina, vulva, etc., will make it feel too clinical, though this isn't an absolute. Phrases like "silken walls", "velvety warmth", "slick heat" and "glistening folds" tells me soooo much more about what's being seen/felt and has more vivid imagery.

You can, however, go overboard with this. I'm sure we've all seen those tiktoks talking about the wild ways some authors have described anatomy; e.g., "love tool" and "pleasure canal." In this case, just call it what it is. Pussy and cock. Cunt and dick. Manhood/member and nether folds/lips if the style of writing or the time the story is set in is more conservative and you want to adhere to that. I know we have been societally conditioned to view these words as lewd and unacceptable due to some negative connotations, but I would much rather have a partner tell me they want to fuck my pussy raw than "take a ride on my pleasure canal." I cannot stress enough how much of this is a matter of personal preference and that this all my very biased opinion on anatomical descriptors.

I am by no means an expert, but I do hope some part of this helps you feel more confident about your writing! Remember that what works for some authors won't work for others, so if the advice I've given doesn't help it is not an indication of your writing abilities. The more you write the more comfortable you’ll feel, and you’ll start to get a sense of what does and doesn’t work for you!

#eilidh's asks #eilidh tries to give advice #not an expert #writing is subjective and should be for your enjoyment #what works for me might not work for you

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clericofshadows · 3 months

Text

opportunities

Description: Kaidan Alenko gets stuck in a Citadel elevator with Admiral Steven Hackett, and they come to a few realizations that lead to a better future regarding them and Nyx Shepard.

Pairing: Past Male Shepard/Steven Hackett, Current Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard. Future Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard/Steven Hackett

Notes: This is a No Reapers AU (or rather, mostly no Reapers with some remnants). Not terribly important to this fic, but it's how I'm writing Nyx's canon.

Kaidan still wasn't quite used to being called Spectre Alenko about as much as being called Commander Alenko. Two new titles gained post the Battle of the Citadel, and many new responsibilities now his to handle with Captain Nyx Shepard by his side.

The Normandy became a true joint Spectre and Alliance vessel with a new mission after her maiden voyage: root out the remaining remnants of the Reapers and geth under their thrall.

Nearly an impossible quest in such a large galaxy, but Nyx's visions made a few things clear.

It's still hard to imagine how close the protheans were to victory, wiping themselves out in the process of defeating most of the Reapers.

And now it's this cycle’s turn to finally put a stop to it.

Nyx was currently meeting some old friends of his, and Kaidan decided to take part of his leave by visiting the Alliance designated areas to burn off some steam. Sure, he could easily access the Spectre ranges, but he wasn't in the mood for that environment, preferring something closer to home and rich with familiarity.

He sent a quick message to Nyx to let him know where he decided on going, but didn't receive a response. Probably has his notifications on silent, like damn near always when he’s not on duty. The bastard.

Kaidan sent him a few little kisses and hugs as well for him to see whenever he bothered to look at his omnitool and rounded the corner to access the wards’ elevator entrance to get to the nearest rapid transport point.

He entered the elevator and was about to close the doors when someone called out to hold it. He quickly pressed the button to open the doors back up, and to his surprise, it was Admiral Hackett rushing to the elevator, clothed in civilian wear. A green turtleneck, grey dress pants, and oxfords shined to perfection. Damn.

Not the first time he's seen him out of dress blues, but well, Kaidan can't quite deny that the man wears civilian clothing well. Especially an outfit he'd choose for himself.

Kaidan nodded at him once the doors closed, wondering why he was on the Citadel. Here for business? His outfit suggested otherwise.

“Heading over to the Alliance outposts?” Hackett asked. "Or something else entirely?"

Being with Nyx meant that Kaidan had become closer to Hackett. They're friends, and he was easier to approach and talk to than he expected. A quiet understanding between them, both knowing they were the few who knew of Nyx’s secret biotics.

Even with Nyx's complicated feelings, still lingering to this day.

There were times when Kaidan wondered why Nyx chose him, especially after the Battle and when he took it upon himself to introduce the two over drinks. Kaidan didn't fully feel like an outsider, but he could see the history and chemistry between them and felt like Nyx wasn't the only one between them that still carried a torch.

But he and Nyx have never been better. Nyx had opened up more and was freer with his affection, his parents seemed to like him, and well, the sex was great too.

Kaidan nodded. “The Spectre ranges are great, but I prefer something closer to home.”

“Nyx not joining you?” he observed.

“Still out with some friends of his. Think he's using that as a way to get some more information rather than catching up. He invited me, but…” Kaidan trailed off, rubbing his neck. “Not my scene.”

“Though you two were in your honeymoon period,” he chuckled. Kaidan felt his cheeks heat up but didn't exactly argue. “After the Battle, I think he took that as a sign to not be so goddamn hesitant with what he has.”

“Things… have been good,” Kaidan said, hesitating a little. “Still the same stoic bastard, but I get a lot more hugs now,” he laughed, testing the waters. Hackett gave him a knowing look, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

This is the first time he's actually become acquainted with a partner’s ex and wanted to get to know them more beyond passing.

“Ah, always such a clingy bastard. Wouldn’t know it until he lets his walls down,” he said fondly. “I’m happy he finally has someone he can trust. More than just someone who can watch his back.”

“I got the impression he wasn’t used to having a squad with him. And when he told me more about his history, I was surprised he even accepted the Normandy.”

“As was I,” Hackett replied. “I warned Anderson that Nyx would likely refuse, but I ended up owing him credits.”

Kaidan couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. “You know, Nyx has never really told me about how he ended up in the position. Well, at the time, we were still in the awkwardness of finding out he was going to be my superior officer.”

In this moment, there was something about Hackett that was easy to open up and be more relaxed with. Maybe it was the inherent awkwardness of the Citadel elevators, but Kaidan wouldn’t mind if this trip lasted a little longer.

“Nyx has always cared about the rules until it starts to impact him,” Hackett said with a smile. “He chose it mostly out of duty, but I think a part of him missed action despite some of his past. Always wanting to be on the move or–” Hackett cut himself when the elevator’s lights started to flicker and the movement slowed until it stopped between floors with a bit of a creak.

Well, he got his wish.

“Shit,” Kaidan cursed, glancing over at the panel to hunt for an emergency call option. Sure, he could get easy access to the panels and climb his way out, but where they were could make that futile. Best to leave C-Sec to try and get them out.

And it wasn’t like he was Nyx and going to be shooting out the glass as a last resort to dealing with the Reaper threat either.

Before he pressed the emergency call button, Hackett activated his omnitool. “I'll message Nyx, but since he's technically on leave…”

“Everything is silenced,” Kaidan sighed. “I've tried to break him of that, but he won't even–”

“Put an exception in for me,” he and Hackett finished together. They shared a long look before breaking out into a bit of laughter.

“So, the bastard hasn't changed,” Hackett said, shaking his head.

“Too damn set in his ways,” Kaidan replied, hitting the call button. He expected C-Sec to be delayed for a while, still dealing with all the repercussions of the attack.

He went ahead and sent a quick message to Nyx anyway, just in case, but he doubted it would be seen anytime soon.

“Elevator W-AD1, this is Officer T’Seva. We've been getting multiple reports of elevator faults across the wards. May I get your names and status?”

Kaidan cleared his throat. “Spectre Kaidan Alenko and Alliance Admiral Steven Hackett. We’re fine and in no current distress, so please, don’t feel like you have to prioritize us over others. Do you need my credentials?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, thank you, Spectre. I can connect you to some of my superiors, but there’s not much we can do until we can individually evaluate every elevator.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kaidan said, glancing over at Hackett, who nodded in agreement. “Take your time. Prioritize what you need. We can sit tight.”

“I’ll send that message over. We apologize for any inconvenience this has caused. Ever since the battle,” they trailed off. “You both are likely well aware of everything that’s been going on.”

“We understand,” Hackett spoke up. “We’ll let you know if we run into any issues.”

“Thank you. Again, we apologize for any inconvenience, and we hope we can get to you soon. It appears by your diagnostics there’s something we can fix on site once we arrive. Be careful, and call us if anything changes.”

A part of him wanted to know what exactly was wrong with the elevator, but if he really wanted to find out, he could just hack into the panel and provide external power via his omnitool himself.

Maybe it's better to remain ignorant.

“It’s alright. Thank you,” Kaidan said, and the officer ended the call. With a glanced look over at Hackett, they both signed and sat down on the floor of the elevator, facing each other.

“Did you get a message through to Nyx?” he asked, crossing his arms against his chest.

“It looks like it was sent,” Kaidan replied. “Didn’t bounce back.”

“Good enough. What exactly is he doing, by the way?”

“Catching up with some old friends of his. They were going to bar crawl, and I wasn’t interested.”

“Not your scene?”

“Something like that.” Kaidan tapped the back of his neck. “L2. I don’t do well with bright lights and loud noises.”

Hackett winced in sympathy. “Right. You’ve done well despite–or should I say in spite of–that implant.”

“It’s merely a tool I've learned how to shape and use to my advantage. Got a few dents and scratches, but who doesn’t?”

“You’ve got that right.” Hackett glanced around. “Are there–?” He made a motion with his hand, gesturing around.

Kaidan did a quick scan with his omnitool and nodded. “Won’t take me but a second to throw up a privacy field.”

“They know there’s a Spectre and an Alliance in here, I doubt it’ll raise too much suspicion.”

“I don’t know,” Kaidan couldn’t help but grin. “The wrong officer sees it and starts spinning all kinds of tales.”

“One superior officer is not enough for you?” He teased back, and Kaidan laughed as he activated the privacy field, scrambling the camera feed and muting the audio.

He was a bit surprised Hackett played along.

“Maybe not. The perks are just so good,” Kaidan said, focusing his gaze on Hackett, a smirk tugging at his lips. “The benefits alone make it worth it.”

And he couldn't deny that Hackett was quite the handsome man. The same things that drew him to Nyx drew him to Hackett. Scars, voices, the way they held themselves… and he knew damn well his tastes often went to older men in his fantasies.

Hackett crossed his arms against his chest, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t expect this from you.”

“I don’t see you complaining,” Kaidan said, keeping his tone neutral. “Allow me to be serious for a moment?”

“Thought you already were,” he challenged.

Kaidan nodded, leaning back against the elevator wall. “Part of me was. Nyx never stopped having feelings for you, you know.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” he said quietly. “And what does that have to do with–”

“It has everything to do with this. Because you obviously still care for him a lot,” Kaidan said, softening his expression. “At first, I felt like I was competing for something that I would never live up to, but later, I felt like Nyx simply had too much love in his heart for one person. I know he loves me, I feel it and we’ve been great, but–” Kaidan stood up and sat down next to Hackett, watching as he followed his every move with his gaze. “I wonder if he’ll be happier if he has us both.”

“So, you’re testing the waters with me, seeing if what, this could be more than us sharing him?”

“Even if it doesn’t work between us, that doesn’t mean this won’t work,” Kaidan replied. “All I see is an opportunity to get what we all want. Nyx, and something more.”

Hackett snorted but something lingered in his expression. “You're a good man, Kaidan. Sorry you got dragged into our decades long mess.”

“I’m not,” Kaidan moved closer. “I think we should all have a long talk once we get out of this mess and after we chew Nyx out for keeping us on mute, yes?”

“I think we should too.” He smiled, and Kaidan believed it to be genuine, tugging on his scar and pulling it across his face quite handsomely. “I’ve… denied my own feelings for him for years, wanting him to move on. But I think we were doomed from the goddamn start.” He shook his head. “As saving each other's lives changes your mindset quite a bit.”

“I'm familiar.” Kaidan closed his eyes, and he flashed back to Virmire, activating the bomb and Nyx refusing to choose between him and Ash, nearly jeopardizing the mission and losing some of the Normandy’s marine detail in the process. He flashed back to the beacon, to Nyx’s anguished cry to move out of the way when the debris of the ship and of the tower threatened to crush him and Ash.

Kaidan felt like he hadn't had the chance to really return the favor.

“And you’ve been impacted by that as well, I see.” Hackett said, giving him a knowing look.

Kaidan blinked before nodding. “A few times.”

“He's a devoted man to the people he loves.”

“That he is,” Kaidan breathed out. He turned to look over at Hackett, his eyes glancing down at the man’s lips. “I would kiss you right now, but I don’t want to do this without Nyx.”

He let out a surprised laugh. “We are of the same damn mind, Alenko.”

“Call me Kaidan.”

“Then you call me Steven.” His eyes flicked down to Kaidan’s lips. “To think we all have similar scars.”

Damn, he was right. They all had something on their lips. Kaidan's was the least severe out of the three, though.

“Where did you get yours?” He asked.

Kaidan felt no need to hide it, figuring Steven already knew. “BAaT. When Vyrnmus attacked me after I lashed out.”

He nodded. “First Contact War for me.” Kaidan could've guessed, and he didn't elaborate.

“And Nyx as well,” Kaidan said. “He's been more open about that than I expected. About a lot of things.”

“Such as his exposure,” he said pointedly, and Kaidan shrugged. “I knew you were something special when he told me how he reacted during his little game that damn near backfired on him.”

“Nyx is a goddamn idiot,” Kaidan chuckled. “But I still liked him despite that. When we got together, that first night, he said he saw a man he could trust.” Kaidan glanced over at Steven, who nodded and motioned for him to keep going.

“And he wanted something specific out of me, so I was extra observant to make sure he was still enjoying himself, you know? I've been with a few biotics, not many, and there's a common theme: we let loose in pleasure. It's hard to avoid, even for someone like me. I saw blue rimmed eyes that night, and I told myself it was a trick of the light. I never told him that I noticed, and he never said anything to me about it. Maybe he didn't even notice he did it,” Kaidan finished his little tale with a sigh. “Didn't have any of the telltale signs of a current gen, so I just tucked it away in the back of my mind. Even after he told me the truth, I didn't dwell on it.”

“I've tried my best to keep him protected from his anomaly, and I appreciate your discretion. I've always worried with his… proclivities that something would come out. Never did,” Hackett admitted. “Granted, he has an experimental implant and amp to help with that, but I'm a protective bastard, he would say.”

“Nothing wrong with that. I like that in a person,” Kaidan said. “I should tell him, but at this point, I don't want him to worry.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” he replied with a wry smile.

“Thanks.” Kaidan adjusted his position, pulling a leg up.

“I'm tempted to call them back so we can get out of here sooner,” Hackett muttered.

“You and me both, but no need to waste resources on us just because of who we are.”

“Exactly. Doesn't mean that I'm starting to be a little selfish.”

Kaidan laughed. “Ah well. We can deal with that later.”

“Speaking of, have you ever done something like this before?” Hackett asked, changing the subject.

Omega shore leave. Vorcha mafia, 5000 credits, a bottle of whiskey, and two very handsome men.

Kaidan grinned. “Sort of. Had a run in with the vorcha mafia at an ill-advised trip to one of Omega’s casinos. Later I ended up doing well and securing myself a nice sum of credits and an expensive whiskey, but I angered the wrong people in the process.”

He laughed as Steven raised an eyebrow. “You contain many secrets, Kaidan.”

“I contain multitudes,” he laughed. “I guess I’m good at hiding it. Anyway, turns out one of the vorcha I pissed off was a target for a merc, and I got involved with him and his partner in ah… more ways than one. Temporary, but I've never forgotten them.” Memories played out, surely reflected on his face, a smile that was tinged with a hint of sadness. He had their info, but lost it with a bug in his software and hadn't backed it up in time and never tried seeking them out since.

“Looks like they got away from you,” he said softly. “I'm sorry.”

“A part of me was too, but I ended up with something beautiful in the end, so I can't complain,” he shrugged. “I owe it to them for helping me appreciate my biotics a little more. Hadn't been with another L2 before, especially not one that wasn’t at Jump Zero, and well, the merc understood how to be with a biotic.”

“An L2 that wasn't with BAaT?”

“Turns out that after he got the surgery, his asari uncle trained him and later fitted him with an asari amp. Fought like a commando too. Never seen anything like it. Regis was one of a kind for sure.”

“Regis… Shepard?” Steven asked.

How the hell does he know about him?

Kaidan tilted his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows. “Yeah. Why?”

“Son of Hannah Shepard, another Admiral in the brass. She never was happy that he didn't join the Alliance, but he's a good contact for us about Terminus affairs,” he explained. “Which means the other merc was Zaeed Massani, and that makes this one small goddamn galaxy.”

Kaidan's face broke out into an incredulous expression. “You're shitting me.”

“No, I'm not.” Steven smirked. “Zaeed was Alliance, but for only a bit. Had a short fling with him before he left and before I knew Nyx.”

Kaidan couldn't help but laugh. “So, not only do we share history with one partner, but also have another. Holy shit.”

Steven snorted. “Maybe we're more compatible than we think. To good taste in men.”

“I'll drink to that.” Kaidan looked down at his lap. “Small galaxy indeed,” he echoed.

A silence fell over them, comfortable and warm.

A ping from Kaidan’s omnitool interrupted it. He glanced down, knowing he only had a handful of contacts that he gave notification access to.

NS: You’re stuck in a fucking elevator? With Steven? I’m on my way

“I stand corrected, he did get our message,” Kaidan said, showing the display to him.

“Call him.”

Kaidan put a vid call through, and Nyx answered nearly immediately, on the move. They shared a look.

“No shit, you really are trapped. Apparently it’s been happening all over this sector.”

“Hello to you too, love,” Kaidan rolled his eyes. “But we haven’t been in here that long and–”

“Too late. I’m on my way. Already notified C-Sec to start to get you guys out. You’re too much of a damn gentleman, Kaidan.”

“He’s not the only one who told them to hold off,” Steven interjected. “In case there were actual emergencies more important than our comfort.”

“Oh great, not you too! Selfless bastards. Let me guess, are you two besties now?”

Something like that. They shared a look again, and it didn’t escape Nyx’s notice. He stopped in his tracks and narrowed his eyes. “What happened between you two?”

“Nothing bad, but… we all need to sit down and talk about it,” Kaidan replied.

“Or you can tell me now, since you both seem comfy enough in there.” He cocked his head to the side, not sounding annoyed or angry, just curious.

“Kaidan and I have a proposition for you,” Steven began. “About your relationship. About what could be something between the three of us. Which is why this is far better with us in one room instead of a vid call.”

“Oh!” He widened his eyes. “Fuck, uh… okay. Wow. You really think this could work even after all these years?”

“Only one way to find out. Kaidan proposed it because… quite frankly, Nyx, you aren’t the only one that misses what we had,” Steven said softly. Kaidan reached over to squeeze his hand, and to his delight, he took it and held on tightly.

Nyx closed his eyes, breathed out, and opened them a moment later. “Alright. We can talk. Kaidan, you asked for this? Even though…” he trailed off, looking unsure.

“Nyx, I love you, and I want you to be happy. And I can't deny that I can see something working between all of us. But even if Steven and I find that we don’t work, that doesn't mean we can’t still have this between you two and between you and me..” Kaidan punctuated his statement by gesturing between them. “And well, you know what I like.” He grinned.

“Shit, Kay, I love you too, you know that. And, yes, I know what you like. Hell, a part of me has selfishly thought about this too, though in ah… more compromising positions than this.” Nyx smiled.

“Never change, Nyx,” Steven said, starting to lean against Kaidan.

“Don’t plan on it. I’m on my way. Oh and feel free to, well, spend your time however you like until we get there.” He winked and shut off the call.

A message popped up a moment later, addressed to the both of them.

NS: C-Sec told me they’ll be there in fifteen. That gives you at least ten ;)

Cheeky bastard.

Steven let out a breathy laugh. “Obviously, we need to talk about this far more than that, but… what do you think?”

Kaidna smiled, leaning in closer. “I think it went well. He gave us a ringing endorsement, so why not spend those–” he glanced down at his omnitool– “next few minutes getting to know each other a little bit more.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Steven made the first move, closing the distance between them, first with a soft, chaste kiss, testing the waters. Kaidan chased after him when he broke away, deepening the kiss and climbing into his lap. He made a surprised sound when Kaidan settled on top of him, pulling him in closer and tangling a hand into his hair. Fuck, he was good at this, Kaidan biting back a moan as Steven started to explore his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you like to be quiet,” Steven said, breathing against his lips.

Kaidan chuckled, moving to kiss down his neck, pushing away his turtleneck. “Didn’t want you to think I was easy. No, I like it loud…” he nipped a kiss just underneath where the collar of the turtleneck sat. “I like it rough…” he licked a stripe up to his ear to purr into and nip at the lobe. “I love it public, even.”

To his surprise, Steven only laughed, keeping a hand tangled in his hair. “Good. I think you and I will be just fine together.”

For a brief moment Kaidan wondered exactly how similar they were and if that factored into Nyx choosing him and staying with him.

“Yeah? I look forward to finding out more,” Kaidan said, leaning in to kiss him once more, but the elevator shifted and the panel started to ring. Right.

Kaidan lifted himself off of him and watched Hackett adjust his pants before he got up out of the corner of his eye. He cleared his throat and accepted the call. “Hello?”

“Hey Spectre. It’s Bailey. We’re getting you two out thanks to your fellow Spectre. Mechanical failure and software failure, nasty business. You’ll be moving again before you know it.”

“Thanks,” Kaidan replied. “Let us know if you need us for anything.” He hoped he didn't sound out of breath.

“We have it covered. Just sit tight for a little longer.”

The call hung up and they both let out a sigh of relief. Kaidan leaned against the back wall of the elevator. “Almost got too carried away.”

“You clearly aren't sorry about that.”

“You're right. I'm not.”

The elevator’s lights flickered and suddenly it started to move. A few moments later, it stopped on its original destination, and on the other side, Nyx was waiting for them, along with some C-Sec personnel.

“Good, you two didn't kill each other,” Nyx laughed, leaning in to kiss Kaidan's cheek as he walked out. “Are you still planning on going over to the ranges or…?” He looked expectant.

“I think I just want to relax for a while. Let's go back to the apartment,” Kaidan said, taking his boyfriend's hand. “Might make some good food, if you want to join us, Admiral.”

“Lead the way,” he replied, and they headed over to the nearest transport hub.

– –

The moment they were inside their apartment, they all immediately headed over to the large couch Nyx insisted on buying for them. Now, Kaidan was thankful to have it, all three of them able to sit comfortably after taking off their shoes.

Nyx sat in the middle, his hands in his lap. “First, I have to ask: Were you two making out when they called y’all back?”

Kaidan sighed in exasperation as Steven snorted. “What do you think is the answer to that, Nyx?” Steven asked, nudging him on the shoulder.

“A damn shame you two threw up that privacy field, is what I’m going to say to that. I guess… you both found out you two are a helluva lot more similar than you both realized,” he admitted, not meeting either one of their eyes.

“Hey, look at me,” Kaidan said, gently turning Nyx’s face towards him. “I’m not mad that you clearly have a type. I mean, I do too.” He laughed, trying to break up the tension. It seemed to work by the way Nyx’s shoulders relaxed. “It just means that we may end up being more compatible than we realized.”

“Or maybe not,” Steven replied, though not out of any malice. He kept his tone light as he continued, “but we won’t know unless we try. And we can still both love you, Nyx, even if we don’t end up feeling that way for each other.”

Nyx closed his eyes, leaning back into the couch, letting out a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re both right, as loathe am I to admit it. I want both of you. Ever since I met you, Kaidan, and you took care of me that night the way I needed, God… you became special to me in a way I haven’t felt in many years.” Kaidan squeezed his hand. “And Steven, you were the one I let get away and I’m sorry.”

“Maybe you were,” Steven began, and Kaidan saw him reach out for Nyx’s other hand. “But that distance may have been good for us. Don’t apologize for something that ended up being good for us in the end.”

“Time will tell on that,” Nyx said, looking at both of them. “I know Kaidan has had his own experiences with poly relationships, but have you…?”

Steven shook his head. “You know I’ve never been one for dalliances the way you were. No, this is new territory for me too. Kaidan told me a bit about his time.”

“Oh, he did?” Nyx smiled, taking a second to pull his hair out of his long ponytail, letting the silvery strands fall down and lay on his shoulders. “Sounds like you two got real acquainted.”

“We did,” Kaidan said with a purr. “We need to go out sometime as the two of us, to get there even more.”

“Kaidan, if you keep up that voice, we’re going to go a lot farther on this damn couch than just a conversation,” Nyx warned, shaking his head. Kaidan pecked his cheek, glancing at Steven who watched in interest.

“We do need to go out as couples a few times. I’ll be on the Citadel for a while longer, so I want to take you both out separately. See where this goes… get to know the man that claimed your heart,” Steven said, his own voice falling into a husky purr.

Nyx held his head in his hands. “Fucking hell there’s two of you now.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Kaidan leaned in to whisper into his ear, watching him shudder. “I want to hear all about those fantasies. What positions we were in, what you were doing.”

“What we were doing,” Steven continued from the other side.

Nyx took another deep breath. “Yeah. One day. I’ll do whatever you two want. But now? I’m hungry and that bar food wasn’t enough for me and my metabolism.”

“Lucky for you, you have a biotic boyfriend who understands. I’ll make my Mom’s chicken noodle soup. Good, hearty, and my way of sharing the love,” Kaidan said, getting up from the couch.

“Nyx raves about your cooking, but I think he misses being behind a real grill,” Steven said, stretching himself out on the couch. Nyx nodded at the mention, Kaidan familiar with how much his man loves to grill, even impressing his father when they were prepping for dinner. “I’m a bit of a chef myself.”

“Oh, really?” Kaidan asked, making his way over to the small kitchen, starting by washing his hands. “We’ll need to compare notes. Most of my recipes are modified for our increased caloric intake, but I make Mom’s soup as authentic as I can.”

“I still keep my modified notes from when we found out about his exposure. I’ll take you up on that offer,” he said. Kaidan felt something in him soften at that.

Kaidan started to gather the ingredients, laying them all out on the table before he started putting the basic stock together. He grabbed his favorite stock pot and put it on heat, tossing a few tablespoons of butter in. To his surprise, Steven got up to join him. “Need some help dicing and slicing?”

“Could always use an extra hand,” Kaidan said with a nod. “Dice those carrots, celery, and onions for me.” He grabbed a few cloves of garlic and started to mince them, motioning over to a nearby cabinet that had a spare cutting board.

Steven nodded and got to work. “Am I going to get the recipe after this?”

“You’ll have to meet my parents first,” Kaidan replied with a wink, smiling while Nyx laughed as he got up to join them, leaning against the edge of the island.

“Already making plans to introduce him to the Alenkos…” Nyx said with a teasing lilt to his voice. “How long did it take for you to take me over to them?”

“Remember, we were on the Normandy for how long?” Kaidan chuckled. “And they ended up loving you, so you had nothing to worry about.”

Steven looked only a little hesitant, slowing down his dicing before recovering.

“Don’t worry. My parents… have a lot of love to give. They’ll approve,” Kaidan said, but a part of him knew that his father was worried enough about the rank difference between him and Nyx. Not that it really mattered with both of their Spectre statuses, but introducing Steven into the mix is going to make things… interesting.

Better see how this goes before he mentions it to his parents.

“Sounds like Nyx’s family,” Steven said, scraping the vegetables into the pot at Kaidan’s nod. “You’re Earthborn too, right?”

Kaidan nodded. “Around Vancouver. My family has a beautiful orchard we call home.”

He waited for him to elaborate on his own origins but he didn’t. Nyx didn’t offer anything either, so Kaidan wasn’t going to pry just yet. He started to stir the vegetables, adding the garlic after a couple of minutes passed. “Chicken’s in the fridge, if one of you could grab that for me. I’ll let it cook in the stock and with my Mom’s seasoning mix, and in less than an hour, we’ll have our soup.”

Nyx nodded and grabbed the requested ingredient. Kaidan tossed in some of the seasoning mix, careful to not let Steven see too much of the process, just to be a little shit. He eyeballed the amount of chicken stock he needed and grabbed the wrapped chicken thighs, placing them in the stock after bringing it to a boil. He reduced the heat to a simmer and covered the stock and chicken and set a timer on omnitool to check it later to make sure everything had cooked through. “Alright, out of my kitchen,” Kaidan said, washing his hands again. “Won’t be done for a while, so let’s find something to watch while we wait, hmm?”

Nyx, of course, found a pre-eezo discovery sci-fi film to watch, enjoying his tradition of grading old-Earth sci-fi to see how accurate they were. Kaidan found it endearing and adorable, the way he kept a meticulous spreadsheet of his personal ratings and opinions.

Nyx grabbed the knit blanket they kept folded over the back of the couch and unfolded it over them.

Kaidan settled against Steven, never quite resisting a good cuddle, and relaxed as the movie began. He could get used to this so easily, he realized. The intimacy of making food together, working in a kitchen and knowing where the other was at any time.

Steven wrapped an arm around Kaidan and pulled him in closer as he leaned in to peck Nyx on the lips, soft and sweet, a contrast to what Kaidan and Steven got up to in the damn elevator. Nyx let out a surprised sound and with a chuckle, he pulled him in closer, deepening the kiss. Kaidan watched them with a soft smile on his face, seeing how the former ex-lovers relaxed into each other, a familiarity and ease that quickly overcame any awkwardness they initially had.

“I missed this,” Nyx admitted quietly, just loud enough for the both of them to hear, breaking apart from the kiss with a sigh.

“Me too,” Steven replied, vulnerable and open and soft.

Kaidan saw their years apart melt away.

“And now I want to see what I missed,” Nyx teased, motioning towards him and Steven. “If you two want, of course.”

“I think we can manage,” Steven said, his piercing eyes landing on Kaidan. First, Kaidan had to deal with Nyx’s gene modded purples, and now he’s dealing with Steven’s icy blue.

Kaidan answered by leaning in for a kiss, pressing his lips softly against Steven’s, letting out a pleased sigh as he parted his lips, letting him take the lead. He heard Nyx make a happy noise from beside them, clearly enjoying the show. They kept it relatively chaste, merely enjoying making out like teenagers on the couch, but it was new territory for them.

They’ll have plenty of time to explore later.

When they broke apart, Steven asked, face a little flushed, “So, Kaidan, what do you like to go out and eat.”

And all Kaidan could do was laugh and give him a smile.

This could work, according to the stirring in his heart and the pleasant heat throughout his body. Someone who understands Nyx and his past and his secrets. Someone who’s been through it all.

Someone who also knows Kaidan’s secrets.

He had to admit to himself that it was nice not having BAaT hanging over him, already knowing that Hackett knew part of the story because of his file. One day, he’ll give him the full story, and maybe he’ll hear some more stories of their past. Of the war they both fought in and survived. For now, though, Kaidan was content waiting for his meal to be done and relaxing with what could be the best opportunity he’s had since the Normandy posting.

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #mshenko #male shepard #steven hackett #nyx shepard #cleric's writing #now I need a ship name for this triad

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jeff-from-marketing · 8 months

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So Baldur's Gate 3 has now fully released, and it kinda fucks?

Okay more than kinda, Baldur's Gate 3 should be the new standard for larger studios in terms of quality and, more importantly, how they treat players. I can't believe I'm saying that about a D&D game.

So for context to that last bit: I'm super fucking jaded on D&D. I've pretty much jumped ship entirely to any other TTRPG (namely Pathfinder 2e) because I hate how Wizards of the Coast have handled D&D 5e and how they treat their customers.

I fucking love Baldur's Gate 3. It's still got some of the D&D things I'm not overly fond of, but that's a personal taste thing, and overall this game fucking rules. Larian is really out here just making D&D a more fun experience than the actual Wizards of the Coast, it's honestly kinda wild.

But more than just in the context of "a D&D game" I want to talk about Baldur's Gate 3 in the larger scope of videogames as a whole, primarily in the triple A scene. There's a reason Baldur's Gate 3 is doing so well and why it's very quickly become so beloved, and it's not just because of the bear sex. That reason can be largely boiled down to "Larian respects their playerbase, and more importantly respects their money." Too often we're seeing games from big triple A companies that already have way too much fucking money just being absolutely filled beyond the brim with monetisation for something that's likely already $90-100 AUD. Or worse: games that borderline lie to you about how much they cost, Destiny 2 I'm fucking looking at you and your "genuinely the worst monetisation I have seen in a game." Or just straight up gacha games that are purpose built to fuck you out of your money and use similar tricks that the gambling industry uses to make money.

But Baldur's Gate 3? Pay the full price up front, and you get a full game. There's no hidden "gotcha!" monetisation, no battlepasses, no rotating digital storefront, no fake "premium" currency, no "but it's only cosmetic" microtransactions. I'm not even gonna gripe against their pre-order stuff like I normally would, because you could actually play the game before it was released. Baldur's Gate 3 was in Early Access for literal years before it fully released, and it used that time quite well! It's fascinating seeing where it came from and how much has changed since then. But more importantly: if you "pre-ordered" the game (read: buy it in Early Access) you could still play the game, you still immediately got something for your money. If you didn't like it, you could still refund it if you wanted to. As a nice little bonus: the game mostly just works! It's not perfect, there's some little oddities here and there, but I haven't had the game break yet. But then again, I'm one of the people who somehow managed to have a pretty bug-free Cyberpunk 2077 experience at launch, so who knows.

And plus it comes with couch co-op! Why is that so rare these days?? It feels like the only games you can really sit down with and play with friends these days are party games.

Of course, Baldur's Gate 3 isn't truly alone here. Horizon Zero Dawn/Forbidden West have come out as full games with no monetisation BS and working fine, albeit stuck to PlayStation for a long time before releasing elsewhere (although BG3 is currently PC exclusive, though that should change next month). God of War, while I've not personally played, I haven't heard anything egregious about it. Ratchet and Clank: Rift Apart is such a fun time, but at $125 AUD it's a hard sell, even knowing all the work that went into it (Though that did drop to just $95 AUD on PC). I'm even going to give Cyberpunk 2077 an honourable mention, because if you had a computer that could run it at launch it was still a damn good time. Though that one unfortunately came at the cost of "should never have been released on last gen consoles" and "worker abuse through crunch."

But all of those examples have the "pre-order to maybe get something" issue that Baldur's Gate 3 avoided through its Early Access launch. You also can't really share those games with friends. You can maybe let a friend borrow the game and then talk about it after you've both finished it in your own time, but that's kinda like watching a movie separately and then talking about it. It's just not the same. That's not even mentioning how small that list is. I'd say it's just single player games, but both Bethesda and Ubisoft have shown even they're not safe.

I haven't seen any game from a large studio respect the player as much as I have with Larian and Baldur's Gate 3. I definitely don't feel bad paying full price for this one. Once they're wrapped up with BG3, I don't suppose I could bribe them to make a Pathfinder game? Pretty please? Already like halfway there with Divinity: Original Sin 2!

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #videogames #big ol rant about the state of gaming #I do hope that BG3's success starts a fire somewhere in big studios #I doubt it though unfortunately #why would they give up making all the money for just a lot of money?

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redheadgleek · 3 months

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January 2024 books!

I had some vacation this month. I also had an entire week when I was stuck at home without internet due to the ice storm. So I read a lot, mostly very light, fluffy comfort read books.

What I read:

Nine Goblins by T. Kingfisher. A novella about war as experienced by goblins. As usual from a TK book, a little gory, a lot witty, with some fun characters.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman. I've read so little of Neil Gaiman's books and I really enjoyed this one. I thought it was quite inventive and I liked how the passing of time was framed.

Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing by Matthew Perry. It's an odd experience reading a book written by a person who has died. He had a lot of mental health problems, and I'm so sad that the medical world failed him so much.

All Systems Red by Martha Wells (audiobook). I read the novella last year and have been wanting to read the whole series, but I had already forgotten details, hence the audiobook. It was a great way of seeing things through Murderbot's eyes. I just got the next book from the library, so that will be my next listen, I think.

Miss Buncle's Book by D.E. Stevenson. A very charming book about a woman who scandalized her hometown by writing a book about them. Reminded me a lot of L.M. Montgomery's short stories.

Lord of the Butterflies by Andrea Gibson. A book of poetry exploring love and family and gender. So much emotion packed into every poem. Truly lovely.

The Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett. I've also not read much of Sir Terry's and everybody has recommended the Tiffany Aching series. It was a lot of fun and had some very unique characters.

Iron Flame by Rebecca Yarros. This is not high fantasy, but when the frozen world was coming down around me, this was exactly the kind of escape fiction I needed.

Weyward by Emilia Hart. Three stories woven into one about generations of women who are witches. There wasn't anything that really unique about the book, but it had great atmosphere.

An Unexpected Twist by Andy Borowitz. Not sure I should really count an 18 page essay as a book, but I enjoyed this perspective of the medical system from somebody experiencing complications.

Thank You for Listening by Julia Whelan. Okay, it mostly stretched credibility, but I enjoyed the banter between the love interests. And I especially liked the way the MC was dealing with her grandmother's dementia.

Georgie, All Along by Kate Clayborn. I enjoyed this one. I appreciated that while it was a "going home to the small town" trope, it also didn't paint that as solving all of the problems.

Upstream: Selected Essays by Mary Oliver. I started reading this last year and it took me to finish. Some of the essays were gorgeous, some felt unfinished, and others felt like book reports.

The Kiss Quotient by Helen Huang. I nearly DNF at 90% because I was so mad at the "chivalrous" macho possessive behavior of the male character. There was a lot of gender roles and conformity and casual (and not so casual) sexism throughout. Oh the other hand, the sex was plenty and pretty well described.

What I'm currently reading:

Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr. My sister recommended this. I'm about half way through and it's a tale interweaving people from the past and the future. It's at a point where it feels like bad things are going to start happening, so I'm a touch anxious, but it's been excellent so far.

Poverty. by America by Matthew Desmond (audiobook). I'm an hour in and it's utterly horrifying and gutting.

A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson. It's a 20 year old book at this time and needs an update, but it certainly makes science understandable.

The Six: The Untold Story of America's First Women Astronauts by Loren Grush.

The Summer Tree by Guy Gavriel Key. I remember reading this in high school and really liking it (while also feeling dirty because there was some swearing and a sex scene in it). This time though? It's obvious he's channeling Tolkien, the writing is painfully stilted and the premise is weak and I've found out that it's a sort of King Arthur retelling, so I'm just not sure about it.

What I plan on reading next:

Emily Wilde's Map of the Underworld, Tom Lake (audiobook), and The Starless Sea are next on my list, I think.

#books #bookblr #RHG reads #reading #www wednesday

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no-where-new-hero · 6 months

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Thank you @batrachised for tagging me in a 20 questions fanfic author game!

1-How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 2, will soon be 3 :)

2-What's your total AO3 word count?

Currently 10,518.

3-What fandoms do you write for?

LM Montgomery novels and Tale of the Nine-Tailed at the moment.

4-What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

"A Dream of the Woodland," my Barney Snaith pov fic, has the most kudos simply because the Blue Castle Book Club are lovely and generous people!

5-Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do because I'm still new enough to this that every comment has me giggling and kicking my feet, and I want the commenter to feel like their time was spent well on typing out a reaction! It also feels like a mini-conversation about my favorite thing (my work hehe).

6-What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I mean, "The One who Takes" will automatically be the angstiest because it's canon compliant, basically a canon novelization, and I spent the previous 4800 words leading up to the finale shaping the characters to deliver the maximum possible pain out of an already painful situation. I have to admit I enjoy writing angst; I enjoy happy endings but until now the main feedback I've gotten on my works and pairings is that they're "sweet" and that feels like a vital misrepresentation of my core self lol.

7-What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

"A Dream of the Woodland" probably, again canon compliancy. The two drafts I have growing won't be happy to the same extent.

8-Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet 👀

9-Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I've become a very fade to black writer after several years of struggling to walk a fine line between graphic, which I guess is the point but not always, and merely allusive, which ends up kind of...unnecessarily poetic (me staring at the sex scene in Divine Rivals, which had me convinced the writer was Christian). This is me standing on my bandbox, but unless it's explicit, I find including smut incredibly awkward. And sometimes being explicit simply doesn't fit the story, and pwp is not my thing. So I've decided to start steering clear of it until I've found a way to toe that line (Starling House comes closest to achieving this for me, but it's almost not a smut scene? Like you know they're having sex but it's so barely there? OT).

10-Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not yet, but I'm still percolating elements for the Dean Priest x Barney Snaith x Walter Blythe fic. After that discussion about Dean being bisexual or at least closetedly in love with Douglas, that idea surged back into my consciousness again.

11-Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, luckily. I'm not famous enough for that to happen lol.

12-Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but that sounds like a huge honor.

13-Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No, but I'm open to the idea!

14-What's your all-time favourite ship?

Oh lord what a question. It's hard because I have a few but so often I want to keep them sacrosanct from fanfiction because I have the only correct interpretation of the ship and won't accept others lol. The one exception is that "euchronology" story about Dean x Emily, but otherwise yeah I tend to avoid reading about ships that are special to me.

15-What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I mean, that LMM sad guy crossover feels a bit ambitious for my time right now, even though I have the elements in place. We'll see.

16-What are your writing strengths?

The prose. I've been doing this for so long that getting pretty words out onto the screen stops feeling like effort.

17-What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I get stuck in my prose and forget that a story needs momentum. And also a shape. Learning how to outline would be great haha.

18-Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

This is actually interesting considering I'm writing for a media created in another language that I partially know, so while writing the new dialogue in "The One who Takes," I was very conscious of not just "would he say that" but also "what would the sentence structure feel like" and "I am also aware that I am filtering this awareness of speech pattern through translation." I don't think I did very well, but it was a thought process.

19-First fandom you wrote for?

I mean, the first "real" OG writing I ever did was very very thinly veiled The Hero and the Crown fanfic (by Robin McKinley, another of my formative books), so I guess that one? Though I feel like I only entered fandom properly this year with The Blue Castle.

20-Favorite fic you've ever written?

"The One who Takes." I don't see that getting dethroned by any of my other ideas any time soon. I love my murder children, I achieved what I wanted with it, I feel like I was writing at the top of my form. It has every element I ever loved in a fic (star-crossed love, hurt/comfort, charged mentor/mentee relationship, unhappy ending) and the form satisfied me (unlinear, lyrical, close 3rd person POV, thematically circular). ANYWAY I'm gassing this one up so you can all check it out here if you haven't already :)))

Tagging (if you haven't done this already): @mollywog @kehlana-wolhamonao3 @thesweetnessofspring

#blake's last braincell #writing life

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butchkelev · 5 months

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Idk if you would answer something personal like this but I thought I’d shoot my shot!

For background I’m 20, queer/enby and just starting to get into bdsm/kink this past year or two. I also prefer a submissive/brat role and your page has helped me a lot in feeling a community and understanding.

How did you learn about this side of yourself/explore it, have you found community that makes you feel validated in it and can share it with, and how do you work through shame if you experience that?

I hope you have the best day I appreciate you!

-🫀

Heyy howdy! i'm so happy to hear my little corner of tumblr has helped you out at all, that's really cool :) I don't feel super qualified to answer your questions, but i'll do my best under the cut

I learned about this side of myself very, very early on lol. I was extremely hypersexual as a child (didn't know what a sexuality was so i just fantasized about everyone) then got scared of myself from like 9-14 (came out as bi at 11, lesbian at 12), then got back to it as a highschooler (13: trans & bi; 15-18:gay ftm). I never got with anyone (didn't start screwing till i was 18), but i poked around 20th century queer art and history and photography (mostly from the u.s., and mostly gay male), and by the time i joined in on the grindr scene at 18 i had an idea of how i wanted to be thrown around. I explored it all in a pretty horrible, unhealthy way through grindr. I fell in love with a transfem who was my first for everything but was secretly using me as "the other man" the whole time, i was always too scared to actually deny sex to anyone who i wound up meeting in person which did a horrific number on my body, and i was obviously chased all over the map by cis male fetishists, and i got with several of them and dated one who was extremely... i don't know. Manipulative? Violent? It's more confusing than that. I was having sex as an addict running away from my real life issues and emotional struggles, and i fucked myself over so much worse than any one hookup or short-term relationship possibly could've. I realized i needed to cut it all off, and i did, and it forced me to seriously think about where i stand sexually. I was right when i was a kid- i'm a dyke. As imaginitive as i was when i was younger, i haven't been 'hypersexual' since i was maybe 13, and i am definitely demisexual. The trauma i experienced from august 2022 to july 2023 has caused extremely intense bouts of sex-repulsion fluctuating against sex addiction which has been... tough. But with all that said, coming back to my dyke roots and listening to my younger self and pursuing butchness and fagdyke bullshit has helped me heal so, so much. It was rough realizing that what i was doing was a twisted version of comphet, something i stupidly thought i was more or less immune to. This community and all the art and people and ideas that come out of it are so insanely incredible and touching to me. I've always been part of the trans community, but the trans dyke community is so much stronger together than the gay trans community was for reasons i don't know.

I currently live in a small town in florida with no nearby major cities, and even if there were, i can't afford a car (let alone gas or insurance) and i'm stuck at home when i'm not at work. It's miserable, and all those issues combined mean there's no community here for me to engage with, not queer and definitely not kinky. I've been wanting to move to a bigger city, and when i was visiting Seattle i got my first real ticket into a trans kink community that was so warm, welcome, open, and i was so, so floored and beyond happy i got to experience it, even if it was just one meet up at a cafe. Finding community in smaller areas is excruciating.... even if you take initiative to build it, it's likely there's no one actually There to join in.... i mope about it a lot. But online i feel like i have recently found a good circle of people/mutuals/etc to share in butch/dyke/trans sexuality and leather kinks and pretty much everything i've talked about on this blog, despite how badly it's lacking for me irl :,,)

Something that ties the two paragraphs together: i really don't struggle with shame in any bit of what i do or who i am, unless i'm going through a paranoid fit of sex-repulsion, in which case the only thing i'm really shameful about is having an online presence at all. Sometimes i get paranoid and scared off my ass that i'll never be separated from these fantasies and images, that i'll always be seen as a little, young fucktoy, or that i'm still in addiction and punishing myself and this is all self-harm when i know (in normal states) that it isn't.

Also sooooo glad you're a brat, isn't it so much fun? How am i not supposed to be a bit snarky from time to time and how am i not supposed to obsess over the punishments i'll get? It's always a win win i fucking love being a little piece of shit lollll

#anon #ask #trans nsft #bd/sm community #butch nsft #very vague trigger warnings for this it's just kind of upsetting in some areas

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greenorangevioletgrass · 2 years

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haven: winter [b.w.]

< previous chapter | series masterlist | ko-fi

pairing: college!bruce wayne x OC

summary: On his final year at Yale, Bruce Wayne, aged 21, stumbled into a theater class and fell for the girl who played Hamlet. In his coming of age, Bruce is torn between his past and his present, and whichever path he chose would determine his future.

word count: 12.9k

warnings: slow burn, friends to lovers, developing relationship, yearning, mutual pining, angst, brief mention of jealousy, Shakespearean feels, allusions of death & suicidal tendencies, fluff, hurt/comfort, smut [oral (m&f), penetrative sex, bruce's first time! yay!, cockwarming, just general horndoggery lol], bruce is an awkward lil bean, an awk lil bean with a big dick apparently 👀

notes: it's back! im not sure if you guys even still remember this, but i'm slowly trying to finish this. big thanks to @awkward-darkness @shipping-not-sailing @cumholland @blue-aconite @spnbarnes for making this all possible! see y'all in spring <3

*follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass to get notified for my latest works <3 happy reading and please reblog and share if you liked it!*

ACT ONE

Bruce had heard the phrase ‘tech week is hell week’ being thrown around among the cast and crew many days before they officially moved into the theater, and he never got any clear explanation, save for sympathetic pats on the back and ominous ‘you’ll see’s. And after his little tryst with Eden in the dressing room, he found it difficult to imagine something more hellish than having to wait to touch her again until closing night.

Boy, was he sorely mistaken.

Anything that could go wrong did go wrong. A wheel from one of the set pieces broke and it took half an hour to fix it and roll onto the stage to get the lighting set up—and it was only the second scene of the show. An ensemble can’t fit into one of his costumes, zippers getting stuck and snagging the changing time, a prop went misplaced…

The cue-to-cue ran so slovenly despite all the fires to put out, and they were stuck to their own posts; Bruce backstage—just off of the wing, and Eden onstage, shuffling between her heels as she moved from one mark to another. Patient, despite the banality, as they made changes to the blocking and tried to get the lighting right. She absently turned to the side and caught a glance of Bruce in a rare moment of idleness, and winked at him discreetly, sending him smiling back. It gave him enough to hold on until they wrapped up, at 1.28AM that night.

The second and third day was a blur. There was no way of savoring the moment of fixing her corset in the wing, because people were milling around. All they had was a secret, split-second graze of their fingers before she strode into the spotlight.

The stumble-through was just that—stumbling through as they tried to get everything right. There weren’t as many fuckups, and he was starting to get the hang of it. The bouts of high-pressure moments in the quick costume changes, and the longer minutes of nothingness. Keeping an eye out for his own cue to get the next costume ready as he watched from the wings. Observing how everyone tried their utmost not to lose their mind in this tiresome tedium. It kept his mind off of Eden.

Eden, currently lying on her side on the floor, more beautiful than a John Collier painting. Deceivingly feminine in high-waisted pants and white shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. The black corset remained a staple around her torso, making Bruce feel some type of way.

Okay. Maybe it didn’t keep his mind off of her entirely.

“Alas, poor Yorick!” She studied the skull in her hand pensively, twirling it and staring right at its hollow eye sockets. And then she laughed wryly, turning to her scene partner, “I knew him, Horatio! He’s a fellow of infinite jest—of most excellent fancy.”

The exhaustion was apparent in her thoughtful musing. For a moment, he thought it was a new discovery in her character. But then he spotted her dozing off on Kola’s—who played Horatio—shoulder during the final debrief, and he was equal parts amused that she was genuinely tired, and amazed that she could still pull it off and make the performance make sense.

So when Eden schlumped out of the theater with just a general wave to the company, Bruce didn’t pay any mind. He wasn’t all that relieved to receive a text from her that said ‘Opening night! You excited?’ right out of his Law Adjudication exam the next day (he sent her the Italian hand emoji and got back a ‘noice’ in return.) He certainly didn’t sign into the theater early, knowing she’d be there.

The pit stop at the local florist, however, had no other excuse.

He came in through the audience’s entrance and there she was, sitting by the aisle that split the seats down the middle. Her smile lit up the dark hall, and he was beckoned in.

“Hey, uh…” he shifted on his heels, gingerly handing his modest gift, “Happy opening night.”

“Oh…” Her mouth went agape upon receiving a single-stem sunflower bouquet, tastefully framed with pretty leaves and baby’s breath. She inhaled the floral scent deeply. “I love sunflowers. Thank you!”

He knew that. Her phone lockscreen is a sunflower field and she had a habit of doodling sunflowers with yellow highlighters on her script, but he’s glad to be right anyway.

She scooted one seat over so he could sit next to her. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

“I didn’t. But it makes sense, now that I think about it.”

“Well, this is my church.” Eden motioned around them. “Before opening night, I like to come in early and sit in the audience and just… take it all in. The quiet, the stillness. It’s like the calm before the storm, you know?”

They stared at the empty stage before them. The set was partially set up, but there wasn’t much else. Just dust dancing under the house lights. And for a moment, they just sat there, arms propped on the seats in front of them like they were in church.

“How are you feeling?”

She took a deep breath. “Well, that’s a loaded question.”

Her palm facing upwards on the backrest, he put his hand over it. Finger lightly tracing the lines that twisted and branched on her skin. Thumb resting over the pulse point on her wrist. Hoping this brought her comfort, because it comforted him to be in the warmth of her closeness. It didn’t feel as new anymore, although it perplexed him all the same; the very act still made his heart race.

She kissed him on the shoulder and propped her chin there. “You know… we might not need to wait til closing night.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying…” her lips ventured closer to his neck, less innocently this time. Grazing his freshly shaven jaw before whispering, “We have time.”

Bruce tried to hide his bounding heart with a rare teasing smile for her. Just for her. “Right here, in your church?” he was met with a cheeky look on her face, and his smile widened. “The sacrilege!”

The kiss went so easy this time. Bruce didn’t give himself time to overthink—he simply cupped her chin and leaned in. Savored the sugary taste on her tongue. The little giggle that bubbled up from within her. The shameless wanting that emanated from her—from him, as his cock stirred under his jeans. God, they wanted each other so badly.

He groaned into her mouth. “How do you do this?” anxiously glancing at the closed door, then at the empty stage, “Anyone could walk in here. It’s giving me—” she cut him off with another searing kiss and it took him everything to finish his sentence, “...anxiety.”

“Maybe you’re just a pussy.” she bit his lower lip playfully. “Or maybe, I like putting on a show.”

Jesus.

Bruce must’ve stopped dead in his tracks, because she pulled away with a shrug. “Or not,” she added. She fixed her bouquet wrapping as she said nonchalantly, “Shame, though. I wouldn’t mind sucking your dick right now.”

“What?” his head whipped towards her faster than he could blink.

“It’s cool. We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to—”

“But I do.”

This time, she stopped in her tracks, surprised by how quickly he’d answered. “Really?”

He swallowed hard. It was a bad, bad idea. He could make a whole list of reasons why; the sheer exposedness of the space, the lack of professionalism, the trouble they’d get into…

But above all, this impossible girl had just offered to go down on him for the first time, right here right now, so… he nodded.

“Okay. Just sit back and relax.”

There was something about the way she kissed him. So simple, so… soft that his worries melted away for a second. It all felt so distant; in that moment, there were just the two of them. Sitting in the empty theater, two hours before anyone’s supposed to be here.

Alone together.

“Fuck,” she cursed as she released his cock out of his pants. All thick and hard and purplish, gleaming at the head. Pulsing as her fist closed in around his shaft. And as she put her mouth on him…

“Eden.”

He didn’t even know whether he was calling her or this. Not anymore. Not when her tongue was laving on the tip of his cock. Gathering, devouring his arousal. Spreading down his length as she took him by every inch.

Heaven.

Heaven was the warmth of her mouth that enveloped him. The obscene wet sounds she made as her cheeks hollowed out around him. The noises threatening to escape from his kiss-worn lips as she took him in so deep. So good.

“Fuck, Eden…” his hand found the back of her head—not quite pushing her down, not quite pulling her back either. Just carding through her hair, finding some solace because he felt his nerve endings going haywire. He couldn’t think. Oh God. “I’m gonna come…”

His quiet plea echoed through the empty hall in a hush, and he knew he should’ve stopped. He really should have. But he was bursting at the seams, arching into her mouth. Her fist. And he tangled his own fist in her dark waves, breathing hard and heavy to keep himself at bay.

And failing.

Not that it mattered.

She kept him close and snug and safe as he surrendered and came apart down her throat. Sucking and swallowing until there’s nothing left but shivers running down his spine.

“Well?” she straightened up, delicately wiping the corners of her mouth with her thumb and kissing him on the cheek innocently. Fuck, she’s unbelievable. “Still think we should wait until closing night?”

Maybe it was the post-nut clarity. Maybe he was just being dramatic, but he swore he’d never seen her so beautiful. “What are you suggesting?” He smoothed out the messy strands of her hair.

“Well, tonight’s opening night. We’ll drink and dance and celebrate…”

And they did just that. The company popped a few bottles of cheap champagne and drank out of plastic cups, blasting late 90’s hip-hop backstage. They had made it through hell week, through a successful opening night, a well-received performance by the audience.

But Hamlet was three hours long, and Eden was onstage for most of it. And as much as she was in high spirits, her energy was visibly—understandably depleted. And Bruce could see that. It was one of the few things he could empathize with.

“You’re not coming in?” she frowned, when he just hovered by when she walked up the steps to her building.

He shook his head apologetically, shoving his freezing hands deeper into his coat.

“But—”

“You need to rest, Hamlet.”

“I’ll get plenty of rest! It’s barely midnight, it’s—” her argument was cut off with her own yawn, her breath fogging up the cold night air.

He threw her a knowing look.

“Fine,” she relented, hiding her face behind the sunflower bouquet—still smelling it fondly, trodding back to give him a brief hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Walking away, melodramatic as it may have sounded, was the most difficult thing he’d had to do all week. Maybe even more so than the first time, in that dressing room. Bruce had to remind himself that tomorrow is Saturday and Sunday is closing night. And come Sunday, they would pick up where they left off without any interruption, any passersby. But until then…

Until then, he would have to share. With the crew getting her ready and briefing her on technicalities in this two-show day (or as everyone called it, two-doe shay). The downtime she used in between shows to take a power nap. The cast that she hung out and warmed up with. The audience that took selfies and gave her flowers after the show. As an only child, this was a massive learning curve for Bruce, but he was doing alright.

He didn’t mind.

He really didn’t mind when a beautiful blonde girl in knee-high boots came up to Eden with a big bouquet of roses out at the foyer. The stranger seemed well-acquainted judging from the warm, lingering embrace they were in, and it’s fine. It was fine that the blonde’s hand stayed on Eden’s waist as they talked. It was no big deal at all when Eden’s hand landed on her arm when she laughed at something the girl had said. So intimate, so… familiar.

She could do whatever she wanted. If he really minded, he was free to leave.

“Hey Bruce, wait up!” she hollered, catching up with him on his way out with barely a quick kiss goodbye on the girl’s cheek. “You wanna walk home together?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, but held the door for her anyway. “Thought you were… occupied.”

“Who, Gwen? Nah, it’s no big deal. She’ll be fine.” Eden stuffed the bouquet into the canvas bag in her hand, along with the other flowers and cards she received that day.

“Hn.” He didn’t know what else to respond, continuing their night walk in silence. But it seemed that not responding only raised more question, because she eyed him curiously and inquired,

“Are you jealous?”

“No.” and he really wasn’t. Eden was just a generally tactile person—she greeted her friends with hugs, leaned on people’s shoulders like it’s no big deal. Why should this be any different?

“Aw, Brucie!” She cooed, linking her arm around his as if it’d ease his mind—although to be frank… it did. But he also hated the nickname with that tone. “She’s an ex for a reason, you know.”

He knew there was something about her, about the encounter. “So she was your ex.”

“So you were jealous,” she echoed his intonation playfully.

He scowled, not liking how he accidentally revealed his own cards. But she smiled, and he wasn’t sure how he could feel better and worse at the same time.

“Oh, that ship has sailed and sunk a long time ago. We’re better off friends anyway,” she mused. “Don’t worry. I’m still yours tomorrow night.”

His heart skipped, although Bruce tried not to shift out of place. What the fuck does that mean? He knew very well that she was talking about their little closing night plans, but those three words echoed in his mind. Pulling all kinds of abstract meanings that he couldn’t quite put into words. I’m still yours. And only for tomorrow night? He felt his gut twist, whether in worry or anticipation—or both—, he had no idea.

***

ACT TWO

In his college life, Bruce had two types of morning: the one where he had to fight five different alarms of varying intensities to wake up, or where he got up before any of the alarms rang (whether he’d had any sleep beforehand was an entirely different matter).

That Sunday morning, he felt like a schoolboy before a field trip as he counted the minutes until his phone would make a peep—way too many— and decided to work off the jittery buzz in his body on a morning run—away from his residential college courtyard and towards Grove Street Cemetery across the street. Avoiding farmer market crowds and whatever sports game was happening in the gym. Steering clear from Eden’s building in case he bumped into her and risked looking like a stalker. No, thank you.

(He did touch himself in the shower thinking about what they did in the dressing room, in the empty theater. Imagining her in her dress. Unlacing her corset. Touching her everywhere.)

“Bruce!” Eden flagged him in the backstage corridor, her bag slung on her shoulder and coffee tumbler in one hand. “I got something for you.”

They stepped aside to a little nook full of stored props, away from the crew setting up for the matinee like they’re sneaking around with a secret—then again, they sort of were.

“Happy closing night,” she beamed, bringing her other hand out from behind her back. Brandishing a flower bouquet—three stalks of red carnations wrapped in coffee-colored cellophane paper.

“But I… I’m not—”

“Flowers are for anyone working on the show. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He smiled sheepishly, unable to hide the rose blush creeping up his neck and ears. She’s gonna be the death of him. “Thank you.” He plucked the card out from the back of the bouquet. It said ‘Hakuna matata!’ scribbled in her cursive handwriting.

“Get it? ‘Cause Lion King and Hamlet…”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “This is lovely. I mean it… thank you.”

Bruce looked up at her, and it’s truly amazing how she looked as happy as he felt (because let’s face it, knowing his poker-faced tendencies, he probably didn’t look it). But there’s that twinkle in her dark eyes, and the smile that lit up her soft face, and all he wanted to do was to lean in and kiss her.

And he did.

Eden gasped, jaw dropped as she pulled away, looking around to check if anyone had seen them. The ghost of a smile still persisted on the corner of her lips, but now there’s a tinge of color on her cheeks, too. “And, uh…” she cleared her throat, backing away into the hallway— accidentally bumping into Louie from Sound, “Try to have fun. Enjoy the show when you can.”

He took her word for it. Part of him wished he was in the audience, watching everything unfold in full view. But he also liked that he could see the inner workings at the same time. He liked hearing the stage managers’ cues, and the actors gossiping about who was in the audience, who’s falling asleep, who’s very cute and attending without a date. He liked watching the crew take out whole rooms from the stage and put together a new one in a matter of seconds. He liked watching the shift from night to day from the lighting above.

But most of all, he liked watching Eden. She walked past him just as the show started, her hand sliding across the small of his back and he’d squeeze her hand in that brief second. And then she stood there in the wing, watching the opening scene. He couldn’t see her face—just her silhouette. So still, almost statuesque as the ghost of the King, her father, appeared before her peers. And as the ensemble, the music, the wedding festivities rushed in…

She crumpled.

Closed in on herself and he could see the breaths struggling against her ribs—almost like sobs.

And then… she straightened up again, making herself presentable for the social event and walked into the scene.

“How is it that the clouds still hang on you?” King Claudius, her uncle-turned-stepfather, put a friendly arm around her shoulder.

But she tensed at the touch, swiftly squirming away towards a waiter, taking some fake champagne from the tray. “Not so, my lord; I am too much in the sun.” She flashed a saccharine smile, raising her glass.

It was fascinating to see her Hamlet; so regal, so imposing in the presence of others. This was the Hamlet who grew up on etiquette lessons, on stuffy outfits and stuffier social functions and was told to grin and bear it. She carried herself like she belonged there, in her silk dress and diamonds on her neck and wrists. But there was something about the way she listened to people; her mother prattling on and on about ‘all that lives must die, passing through nature to eternity’ that just screamed… exhaustion. Seething. Like she was close to breaking her champagne flute and shoving the shard into someone’s neck.

It was kind of hot.

But his most favorite thing? Her version of Hamlet was funny.

And no, it wasn’t just moments of comedic relief deliberately placed after scenes of high tension. Her dry humor was consistent—from her first scene to the last, where she had just witnessed her mother’s death, followed by her uncle and her lover’s brother. Knowing she would be next in just mere minutes.

“I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu,” she blurted out matter-of-factly, laughing in disbelief as she threw a mock-salute. It felt like one of Hamlet’s usual sardonic quips—except it wasn’t.

The audience laughed with her for a bit. But the air of unease was palpable, and for the first time, Eden all but broke the fourth wall, sharing her final moment of vulnerability with the audience as the poison coursed through her veins. “Had I but time…” she mused. She didn’t, as Death was as punctual as it was unexpected. “Oh, I could tell you—” she gushed. It was the first time she didn’t want to die. Just for a split second. Just enough to speak her truth. Enough to make dying actually hurt. “But let it be.”

In a fit of shock and grief and helplessness, Horatio—her best friend and right-hand man— tried to drink the remains of the poison in the cup, but she wrestled it out of his grasp. Knocking it away, and collapsing into his arms afterwards.

“If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart… absent thee from festivities awhile, would you?” she patted his cheek limply, comforting him even though she was the one dying. Softening as he choked out a sob at the sight of her.

Bruce would never consider himself an emotional person, but even his eyes welled up as he watched from the side.

“O, I die, Horatio,” she sighed—not in regret, but in relief. All too glad to surrender to her fate. Her business was done. She had entrusted the future of Denmark in the hands of her very best friend. “The rest…” she rasped out, pushing through her words for the very last time,

“...is silence.”

Horatio’s wailing was gut-wrenching as it echoed through the hall, but Bruce couldn’t help but focus on how peaceful she looked. How breathtaking. How lucky she was for meeting her end so swiftly. And perhaps, on a much lighter note, how amusing it would be if Eden genuinely fell asleep playing dead (she did on last night’s performance.)

He envied her either way, and adored her in every way possible.

The show ended, and the cast took their final curtain call to the raucous standing ovation, amidst the cheering and the applause. But as soon as the curtains came down, Eden all but raced to the wing where Bruce was standing.

And as she came closer, he could see her lips wobbling.

“Hey, are you ok—” his words were cut off with her arms thrown around him, wrapping him into a crushing hug. Her face buried in his chest— and he could feel her tears seeping through his black hoodie.

She lifted her head up, “Sorry about that. This, uh, this happens. Closing nights. Always emotional,” she sputtered around, sniffling a bit. It’s endlessly endearing whenever Eden, ever so eloquent and witty, stumbled on her words because she’s so overcome with emotions.

“That’s okay,” he soothed her with a fond smile, smoothing the hair tumbling down her back as she tucked her face back in his chest.

She was soon tugged away and drawn into a hug after hug by the other cast and crew, but he didn’t mind it. He was happy with the handshakes and high fives and pats on the back and half-hugs (or a full hug from his esteemed department head Laura, who told him, “you’re a solid dude, B.”) His heart already swelled from the fact that in a crowd of openly emotional people, she came to him first.

And when all was said and done, her hand sought solace from the cold in his hand, tucked in his coat pocket, all the way to his dorm.

His dorm. With his worn Gibson J-45 perched on a guitar stand in one corner of the room, the mess of wires and parts and analog cameras on his desk. The small bookcase with books nearly spilling out. The standard-issued twin bed by the window (that he made earlier that morning, thank God.)

“The room where it happens, huh?” Eden cheekily remarked, glancing around the clutters and the mess that probably told her more about him that he did in the past few months.

“Would you like a…” Bruce gingerly asked, though the words faltered on him as she closed the distance between them with a single step.

She didn’t lean in, didn’t pull him in—save for the hands slipping under his coat and around his waist. There was no more sneaking around. No more stealing time. It’s finally just the two of them.

Alone together.

“You never told me you played guitar.” The fabric of his clothes comforted her hands, but she still chased the warmth underneath. Despite the sudden touch of bare skin, it felt… nice.

“Never came up.” He paused, and then winced, “You’re not gonna ask me to play, are you?”

“Well, not now…” she rolled her eyes playfully, “I think I have something more important in mind.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“Like this.” she tugged the lapels of his coat to bring him down to her face, making him smile into her kiss.

He never, ever smiled like this. Like some regular person with an uneventful personal history and a normal life. He almost felt like he shouldn’t. But within the confines of these four walls, in the arms of this impossible girl who dragged him around from the woods to the stage (and whom he so happily followed to the ends of the earth)... he allowed himself to.

They’ve stolen kisses countless times, but they’d never kissed like this before. So free, so unfettered, so… devoid of a single care as they unhurriedly shed each layer of their clothing. Scarf. Coat. Sweater. They both secretly wondered if they should make haste —they were so desperate to feel each other up all week— but at that moment, they didn’t mind taking it slow.

After all, they had all the time in the world.

He didn’t outwardly ask, but he was thankful that she took the lead. Backing him up until his legs find the bed frame. Sitting him down and straddling his lap. Tugging her dress over her head as she kissed him so fiercely, so that he could focus on her. Committing every inch of her to memory with his touch. Her lips, her thighs, the curves of her waist, the…

“Is that a—” his hand finished the rest of his question, tracing the hair-thin lines on her skin. Pinkish, purplish orchids blooming from her ribcage, with leaves sprouting and buds blooming on the underside of her breast. “You never told me you had a tattoo.”

“Never came up.” she shrugged, echoing his words. “Do you like it?”

He kissed her there, from the petals to the florets. Tracing the lines with his tongue this time, up the soft swell of her flesh. Sucking her pebbled nipple. Feeling her gasp deep in her core.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she simpered blissfully, one hand buried in his mess of dark hair. Not quite grabbing, not quite pulling, just… playing with it, twirling it around her fingers. Urging him to keep going, keep taking, more more more, because she had so much more to give, if the dripping mess in her panties were any indication.

“Bruce…” she hummed, “Where’s your condom?”

“In the— in the, uh, drawer,” he struggled against the haze in his mind. Motioning at the nightstand next to bed, but refusing to unlatch his mouth from her tits, his hands from her supple thighs, until she had to pry him off of her.

And even then, she had to make up for it in a blinding, heartstopping kiss, before she pushed herself off of him.

If he were smart —and Bruce had always prided himself on his intelligence— he would use this time to undress. But he watched her hips sway, her ass jutted out as she bent over in his full view… and he was hypnotized. The foil packet rustled in her hand, and the radiator creaked in the background, but nothing could tear his attention away from the way Eden shimmied out of her panties. Even if the world was ending outside the window.

He seized her in a flurry of kisses and groping hands, and even as he clumsily kicked off his shoes and got the fuck out of his pants. And as they stumbled back into bed, her hair tumbled down her shoulder just right, and her profile illuminated by the moon.

She looked absolutely beautiful.

“God, you’re beautiful,” she breathed out.

His heart stopped, wondering if he’d accidentally said it out loud. But then, all thoughts went out the door as her hand stroked his hard cock (as if it weren’t already aching for her), lewdly studying the pinkish purplish head as she circled it with her thumb. It took him everything to tear her hand away to make way for the condom along his length; he had to remind himself that he’d be inside her soon.

She ran him up and down her slit, spreading her wetness all over him, lining him up just right. Her opening hovered over his fat, blunt tip, and she could feel herself seizing up as she sank down on him—or at least, tried to.

“Fuck, you’re big,” Eden muttered brokenly, taking deep breaths as she prepared to try again.

There was no hiding his deep blush now. “Thank you…? I, uh, really wouldn’t know.”

She frowned, somewhat incredulous. “What do you mean, you wouldn’t—? You mean nobody’s ever told you…”

“Well, I’ve never been with…” he trailed off, desperately hoping she’d get his point without having to say it. It’d save some of his dignity, at least.

But her face lit up, her jaw dropped, and she all but cried out, “No way. Bruce! Am I popping your cherry right now?”

“Ugh, don’t say it like that,” he grumbled, which only made her giggle.

“Okay, fine. Deflowering.”

“Oh my God, this is my worst nightmare…” His forehead fell onto the crook of her neck, and he hid his beet-red face there in embarrassment.

But she lifted her chin so tenderly, stroking his improbable jawline. Dammit, she’s gonna be the death of him. “You don’t mean that, do you?”

How could he? Eden was naked in his bed, perched on his lap, taking his cock inside her. This was his whole dream. “Not really, no,” he lamely admitted.

“Good. Cause I want all of you inside me.” She smirked, kissing him, although she fell out of it as she tried to sink down on him again. Struggling with the sheer size of him. Still too fucking big. “Fuck…”

“I thought I was the one getting deflowered.”

She shot him a sharp glare.

He kissed her back passionately, rubbing slow circles on her clit to ease her up. Trying to focus solely on her—the way her fingernails dug into his back, her teeth gnawing on her lower lip.

Her pussy taking in the head of his cock in a tight clench.

As their moans united in the silence of this humble room, so did their bodies. It was overwhelming. His mind felt hazy, yet at the same time, never been clearer, and he hoped, dear God, he would remember every inch of her. By feeling, by sight, by touch.

By the breathtaking whine that escaped her lips with every inch she took him deeper. Drawing out again.

Painfully slow, but maybe just as well, because any faster and Bruce might just combust from the sheer pleasure of it all. And as tempting as it was to surrender, he really, really wanted to make this good for her, too.

She withdrew nearly all the way off of him and then plunged herself all the way to the base, eliciting a restrained cry from both of them. He smoothed his callused hand up and down her thighs, leaving hot wet kisses on her bare neck.

“You okay?” he whispered, holding her close to him, around him.

“Mm-hm,” she replied, her voice tight. “Are you?”

He nodded. “Just… stay here for a while.”

“Okay.”

It was strange how… innocent they both sounded, despite the obscene nature of their activity. Bruce had resigned his fate (in the biblical sense) in her hands a long time ago, but what he didn’t realize was that, stripped down to her most vulnerable form, she laid her own fate in his hands, too.

And for a while, time stopped and there’s just the dull, throbbing ache between his legs, comforted and aggravated at the same time by the snug, silky pulsing of her walls around him. And it almost didn’t matter, because Eden kissed and held him like she never wanted anything else. And neither did he.

Almost.

Somewhere between desperate hands and even more desperate mouths, Bruce’s hips started grinding against hers, shallowly thrusting at first, setting the delicious ache inside her alight. It was nothing like he’d ever felt—nothing his hand or even a panic-bought fleshlight could compare. And the more she responded to his motions —the roll of her hips, the moon crescents she left on his skin, the quiet little moans she made.

He bucked up into her particularly deep, pushing out a sound that sounded more pained than pleased, and he stilled immediately. “Sorrysorrysorrybaby,” he murmured, breathless, cupping her face in both hands. “Did that hurt?”

“No, I’m—” Eden chuckled lazily, “I’m good.” She kissed him once on the lips. “Feels good.” and another on his jaw. “I promise.” her mouth veered down to his pulse point and she bit him lightly.

His head lulled back with a groan, she’s gonna be the death of him, as he picked up where he left off. He was so drunk on her, and yet… he wanted more. Devouring everything he could get his mouth on; her mouth, her neck, her tits. Kneading her ass like he wanted to claim it.

Like she hadn’t already claimed him with every thrust she met halfway.

She took his hand, kissing his wrist and palm and letting his thumb drag along her lower lip. Trailing the outline of her soft, kiss-worn flesh, before he tentatively, ever so lightly, inched it inside.

And when she closed in on her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she sucked his finger…

“Eden…” her name came out in a rumble from deep within his chest, and he had to close his eyes. But that didn’t work, because the image was seared into his mind and it melded with the fantasy of having his cock in her mouth again.

Bruce eased his thumb out of her mouth and onto her clit, rubbing it firmly —and secretly thanking God she seemed to like it. His hips started to falter, and with Eden controlling the pace now, he was close.

Dangerously close.

And apparently, so was she.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she chanted, shamelessly bouncing on his cock. Unbothered to hold back her noises anymore as she powered through the stretch of his girth.

And as her voice went higher, so did the pleasure coursing through her veins until it coiled deep in her core. Gripping around him like a vice, throbbing, squeezing, and oh God, he wanted to give her that forever, but he couldn’t, he was selfish and he wanted to punish himself for chasing her orgasm with his own, but—

“Oh, fuck!” he lurched forward as he came inside her. Heartbeat rang in his ears, his whole body set ablaze in waves of unadulterated pleasure. Holding her waist in place, riding out his high with one, two, thee thrusts until he rested limply on her chest.

And she rested her chin on top of his head. Holding him flush against her. Alone together.

For the first time in his many restless years, Bruce’s mind was…quiet. There were just breaths slowing to a calm, hands settling on the small of her back. Her fingertips caressing the nape of his neck. He always imagined his peace of mind in solitary, but in that pocket of time of space, he couldn’t imagine anyone else by his side.

Anyone but her.

***

ACT THREE

Bruce saw a lot of Eden that week.

It was the final week of the semester. There were exams to take and essay deadlines to catch, and he spent most of his time hunched over his laptop. Sometimes in the library, sometimes at the Beanjamin, though most of the time he stayed in his dorm. All warm and lively and cozy now, with his new… guest gracing it with her presence on a near daily basis. Hogging his bed, wearing his Nirvana t-shirt she grabbed from his drawer, reading his weathered copy of The Count of Monte Cristo.

As soon as his Victimology paper was marked ‘successfully submitted’, Bruce shut the laptop and swiveled in his desk chair, stretching his arms and neck with a groan. He turned towards his bed—or rather the girl occupying it.

Legs swinging in the air as she laid on her stomach, shirt riding up to reveal the lace of her panties like a dirty fucking dream.

“You done?” she asked absently without looking up from the book.

He flopped half on top of her, smushing his face onto her back, reveling in the smell of her shampoo, her scent on his shirt. “Yeah. Are you?”

Eden hummed, stroking his hair a little. Her attention was still glued to the page.

Bruce peeked over her shoulder. He was going to let her enjoy it —it was his favorite part— but his hand was too tempted to explore the curve of her hips, her thigh, her ass, squeezing the soft swell of flesh playfully. He’d never been a physical person, but he was starting to get the hang of it… and he liked it.

“You’re distracting me,” she whined, light-and-half-hearted at the same time, if the little trail of giggles were anything to go by.

He smiled, brushing her hair to the side. “Am I really?” He murmured, nuzzling her cheek.

His finger traced between her nether lips over the fabric, and she groaned. A low, playful sound that had become an expression of fondness. And out of fondness, he smacked her ass.

“Bruce!” she gasped, turning on her back. The thick book in her hand fell back against her clothed chest and made a muted thud. She turned to meet his gaze, her eyes wide, surprised and pleasantly scandalized. Maybe a little turned on?

“What?” he looked at her, feigning innocence. And she knew he was pretending, based on the sheer fact that he’s working her panties down her hips.

She stared at him, searching, and then…

“Nothing.” She picked up the book again. And then, as she opened her page again, she kicked the scrap of panties off of her legs. Spreading her thighs. “Carry on.”

There was a command in her every gesture. A directive. He loved it.

Bruce was, by no means, good at eating pussy. How could he be good at something he’d just started doing? But what he lacked in skill, he made up in enthusiasm. How could he not like how wet she was for him, how she arched up into his touch? People spent their lifetime chasing the very thing that would quench their thirst, but his oasis came to him and was all too happy to show him how to enjoy her.

And God, he enjoyed every bit of her.

“Fuck…” she bit back, her grip tight on the book as his teeth grazed the soft flesh on her inner thigh. There was an affectionate little blue mark just next to it, and he remembered how she moaned and grabbed his hair when he did it two nights ago—and maybe she liked it as much as he did.

His tongue dipped between the cleft of her cunt. There was no time to tease her; he needed to taste her now. Needed to lap up her juices, her clit, and feel her pelvis gyrating into him, one leg hiked up on his back. A sign that he was doing it right.

She sighed, seemingly pleased with the motion he’d settled into—because he was certainly more than happy to be licking her cunt up and down, all sloppy and greedy and good.

“Bruce, baby…” Eden put the book aside, fingers carding through his messy hair. There’s that nickname again. He couldn’t remember when they started using it, but they only ever used it in the most vulnerable and desperate moments. And in that moment, all signs pointed to Eden wanting more.

He slipped a finger inside her, wetting it and curling it against her inner walls. Patient and observant as he looked for that spot that made her melt. It never ceased to amaze him how Eden, ever so bold, could ever be so putty in his presence. In his hand.

“More please, stretch me out for your cock,” she moaned quietly.

His eyes closed shut. “Jesus Christ, Eden…”

“Mm.” She leaned into the vibration of his voice, the low growl she never thought she’d coax out of quiet and elusive Bruce. Relishing in the second finger he added, his mouth not letting up from her swollen clit.

She was fully, shamelessly fucking his face now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. It should make him feel powerful. And while a surge of pride ran through him as he found his bearings in her pleasure, he knew she also had the upper hand.

Even when she came apart on his mouth, his fingers, tugging at his hair desperately. When he eased up and crawled up her body, swallowing her little whimpers and gasps into his kisses. Even when he pushed his cock inside her, fucking her slow until agony had the best of him, and he came in the warmth of her throbbing cunt as he plunged into her so deep.

She had him wrapped around her little finger, and he was more than happy to be there.

“Hey, you wanna take a nap?” He softly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, noticing her eyes growing heavy as they laid there in post-coital bliss.

She looked at him, and then out the window, and back at him. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

“Fuck. I have a class in an hour,” she groaned. “But hey, we got the Hamlet party tonight. The Dolphin Den, 8 PM. Don’t forget.” And with a quick kiss on his lips, she rolled out of bed.

He watched her get dressed, unhurried but haphazard anyway, not bothered to return his t-shirt, and his heart swelled at that. God, he was so gone for her. “Would you, um, like to go together?” His heart suddenly started racing for no reason. Why was he nervous about asking her this?

“I’ve already promised to help them set up. But I’ll see you there?”

“Right. Okay.”

“And don’t even think about skipping.”

She must’ve noticed the slightest deflation in his tone, the way he tensed up at her ‘threat,’ because she sat back down on the edge of the bed as she put her shoes on.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But I do hope to see you there.” She kissed his shoulder and his nose and his lips one last time, and then she was off.

Shit.

***

The Dolphin Den was a common room in the basement floor of the Grace Hopper Hall, where Eden lived, the last door on the left from the west staircase—a fact Bruce had looked up in the three torturous hours he had between his final class of the semester and the production-slash-Christmas party he was apparently invited to. Going back and forth between going and not going, even as he got dressed, put on his jacket, and stepped out into the cold. Taking the scenic route on purpose.

(He very nearly turned back. Stopped right in front of the building, wondering if he was underdressed or overdressed in his hoodie, if fifteen minutes was acceptably late or it’s still considered very early for this kind of event, and… he just kept walking.

He walked and walked for a block, and another, and stopped in front of a liquor store. And as the neon sign flickered over the storefront, a lightbulb lit up over his head.)

So, when Bruce walked back to the Eden’s residential building—now a good twenty five minutes after the start time— he felt considerably less nervous. Still nervous enough, though, to count every stair step as he made his way down to the basement, carefully reading every room sign even though he had the layout memorized. Pondering whether he should knock or just walk right in.

Bassline thumped faintly through the corridor, and he took it as a sign to go for the latter. Half of the production team was there already, occupying the couches and corners of the wood-paneled room. Table tops covered in red solo cups and beer cans. Indistinct conversations going over and under the music, a dance pop song. Some of the people nodded at Bruce as he made his way inside. It was… strange to be on familiar terms with this many people.

But not unwelcome.

Still, he was relieved to see that familiar face waving at him from the drinks table. Her pale yellow skirt flared around her waist like a burst of sunshine, although her long legs reminded him of all the nights he had them wrapped around his waist. He weaved through the crowd, bumping and murmuring passing apologies unlike those dramatic slow-motion scenes, all the way across the room as she excused herself from Kola and Angela, too.

He was probably a few steps away from her, before he panicked. How should he address her? Sure, they were very… intimate in private, but what were they in public? Were they friends, were they together? Oh God, they never talked about it—

“Hey, you made it!” She hugged him and briefly kissed him on the cheek. Okay, standard Eden protocols, at least. Dark eyes flickering down to make sure she didn’t leave a lipstick mark on his skin.

(No matter. She left plenty more lasting marks in more discreet places.)

Her lingering hand on his arm left way too soon, but he supposed it was for the best as her two friends joined them, still engrossed in conversation.

“So I told him, back the fuck off, let me do my double pirouette in peace and— ‘sup, Bruce?” Kola nodded up at him, offering a high-five which he didn’t take.

Not out of ill will or anything, just because he’d already raised the paper bag he was holding in his hand.

Bruce made an apologetic smile that looked more like a wince. “Hey, I got, uh—for the, um…” he gingerly handed him his last-minute… offering.

Kola accepted one and gasped when he took the bottle out of its paper bag. “Vodka!” he cried out like a kid at Christmas, offering yet another high-five that Bruce reciprocated this time. And as he brandished another bottle from the bag, he proceeded to announce to the whole room, “Yo! Bruce got us more vodka!”

He was met with overlaps of whoops, cheers, and Bruce’s name and in various levels of inebriation and excitement. It’s impossible for Bruce to fight the heat creeping up his face now.

“It’s no big deal.” he shrugged a little.

“Dude…” Angela beamed, her hand on her chest like she was about to shed happy tears, “I thought you hated us.”

He tilted his head curiously. “Why?”

“I dunno. We just assumed…” Kola shrugged, trailing off, making a face, hands flailing around in the air.

It was understandable, he supposed. He never hung out with anyone except for Eden (for obvious reasons) and the costume department (also for obvious, albeit entirely more professional, reasons.) Come to think of it, he didn’t think he ever exchanged a single word with these two that wasn’t about the production.

But they were warm and welcoming nonetheless, and it put him more at ease.

“Nah, you guys are alright,” Bruce eventually said casually, matter-of-factly.

Angela and Kola immediately exchanged looks. A moment of silence, before they full-on freaked out, clutching onto each other for dear life.

“Oh my God, you like us!” Kola squealed, while Angela fanned her face with her hand. Despite the dramatic reactions, they seemed… genuinely touched?

“Well…” Bruce went to interject. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He had yet to decide whether ‘like’ was an overstatement. But he didn’t dislike them, that’s for sure.

“Guys, stop it. You’ll scare him,” Eden lightly chided her friends. Then, stepping up to lead him away, forever his knight in a stolen Nirvana t-shirt, “You want something to drink?”

“He totally likes us, dude.” The duo gushed to themselves as Bruce and Eden moved away a little, not bothered by his lack of decorum, apparently.

“Are they drunk already?”

“Nah, this is how they normally are when they’re hanging out.”

“Really? Even Angela?” As stage manager, she was efficient. Level-headed. A bit on the stricter side. Bruce didn’t expect her to be so… goofy in real life.

“Mm-hm. So, we got…” Eden rolled up her sleeves, “Rum and Coke, vodka and Coke, whiskey and Coke, and… tequila and Coke?” she raised a cheeky eyebrow. “Marc’s still picking up the rest of the mixers. Oh, and we got club soda and cranberry juice and… beers of many varieties, good sir.”

She was more animated than usual, and it’s very cute. Like she was amped up from the drinks and the room itself. And perhaps, a small part of him wondered if his presence had anything to do with it.

“What are you having?” Bruce propped himself up with both hands on the table.

“Vodka. We’ll save the tequila for later.”

His heart jumped to his throat. He’d never been much for drinking and partying, but he liked the idea of letting loose with her. So he squared up. “Sounds good.”

“Coming right up!” She flipped a new cup and began preparing his drink. Lightly briefing him on what a cast party was, the things he’d missed in the first 25 minutes of the party, and the potential rowdiness of it all as the night went on. “Trust me, the bonfire had jackshit on this.”

Bruce received the drink she handed and took a sip tentatively, and blink as the sharpness hit his senses. “Wow. That’s… wow.”

“I think I should’ve prefaced this by saying I’m not the best at mixing drinks.” She winced apologetically. “The ratio might be a little bit off.”

“A little?” He side-eyed her, but raised his cup slightly to toast her. “Thank you for the drink.”

“Thank you for coming.” She met his cup halfway.

He wanted to kiss her senseless—and from the way she hovered, shifting on his heels and stared at his lips, he’d guessed she wanted to do that, too. But the room around them still felt too… mild, too sober, and he couldn’t handle the prying eyes. Not when he’d grown so used to being alone with her. So he joined her and her friends, listening to their plans for next semester.

Well.

Until Eden got whisked away, leaving the three of them in favor of song and dance as they played a Motown musical number over the sound system. The conversation halted for a moment as they watched and nodded along to the familiar tune.

(Familiar for them, of course, not for Bruce. He was just happy to watch her sing along and reenact a dance routine with two guys who were definitely not the Dreamgirls.)

“So Bruce, how’s life outside the theater’s treating you?” Angela piped up, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Well, it’s finals week, so… busy. But you know, quieter.”

She nodded knowingly.

“Yeah, we were, like, belting fucking Sondheim at, like, 9 in the morning.” Kola huffed. “It was rough.”

“Ugh.” Angela rolled her eyes and turned to Bruce. “Actors, am I right?”

Bruce stammered. The only thing he could relate with that was the time he woke up to Eden making those funny humming, trilling noises in the bathroom for warm-up. Was it too early to disclose that they were having sleepovers?

“Bitches, besties!” Laura suddenly joined them, popping up between Angela and Kola, a bit tipsy. Guess who’s dressing A Doll’s House at the Rep next month! So I guess I’ll be seeing you, Madame Stage Manager.”

The two girls squealed and hugged, and Bruce suddenly remembered what Eden said to him on the first day of tech: it was never just about a show. It could be a gig, a collaboration, another project to keep them in this neverending rat race a little longer.

“That’s awesome! I auditioned for that.” Kola stared down his drink pensively. “They said ‘Hard pass.’”

“Aww, you don’t even like period shit.” Angela wrapped her arm around her friend in comfort.

“I liked our Hamlet,” he said lamely.

“Yeah, but this one isn’t like ‘period’ period, you know? Like, it’s not… stuffy. I mean, not to suck our own dick or anything, but…” Angela trailed off, eyes scanning over them for validation.

And Laura was right there for her. “Nah, we nailed it with this one. I couldn’t fucking stand Hamlet before this, but our version? All the female rage? Fuck yeah.”

“I just feel like we should accept the fact that Shakespeare, in its true form, is boring now. Nobody wants to watch people in big frocks, speaking in big words for like 4 hours. And it’s fine! We don’t have to like that shit anymore. We like badass corsets and queer relationships and dick jokes and sassy comebacks. And that doesn’t cheapen Shakespeare; that keeps him relevant, and frankly, that’s what we should be focusing on, instead of sucking the dick of some dude who’s been dead 400 years.”

The three of them stared wide-eyed at Kola, watching him take a casual swig of his drink after his unexpected hot take, all 5’7 of athletic muscles and nerd rage.

“Holy shit, you’re right.” Bruce blurted out.

“Thank you!” Kola lifted his red cup, knocking it softly with Bruce’s—and he found himself drinking to that, too.

Angela was still quiet, though. Thoughtful. “Yeah, but it’s hardly fair to say all historically-accurate adaptations are shit, right? Like, some people just happen to like period pieces, you know?”

“Fuck off with your contrarian shit, Ang! Bruce—back me up here.”

“Uh…” Bruce paused, scrambling for a response. “I think neither is mutually exclusive?”

“Well, that’s a lukewarm take if I’ve ever heard one,” Laura remarked. “Come on, man. Humor us.”

“Honestly? I… like those period pieces, too. I really do. This reimagined version we did was new to me and it’s… pretty eye-opening.”

It felt like a fever dream. Bruce never would have thought he would be engrossed in a conversation about Shakespeare adaptation at some theater cast party, which led to more drinks, which led to tequila shots with this merry band of misfits… and actually enjoying it.

Eden occasionally joined them for a chat and a drink—he suspected it’s mostly to check on him and make sure he’s not feeling ignored. And while it was sweet of her, he also enjoyed watching her do her thing. Sometimes singing along to whatever song they were playing, sometimes simply vibing and cheering on whoever was taking the lead. Sometimes just…

Standing on the coffee table now with Marc, arm-in-arm, raising their drinks, leading the crowd to the big Latin number. And straight out of a movie, people were spontaneously singing and harmonizing to the ensemble lines in Spanish. These theater kids never ceased to amaze Bruce.

And as the beat dropped, they hopped off the table and danced. Despite the close proximity—all the spins and the turns— Bruce didn’t feel a pang of jealousy like he did with her ex-girlfriend. On the contrary, he was simply enthralled. She was truly at home in her body. In the heat, the beat, the people all around her.

And why wouldn’t she be? She was surrounded by people who had made a home out of this little corner of life, too.

“So, what are you up to next semester, Bruce?” Laura asked him.

“I don’t know, just… trying to graduate in time, I guess.” He shrugged. It sounded a lot less exciting than what they had lined up, and he didn’t realize he was a bit… miffed as he said it out loud?

“You can always join us again. The Costume Department’s always open. Or maybe you wanna try something else?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” Bruce smiled sheepishly. “I appreciate it, though.”

“I’m serious. Hamlet was a trial by fire, and you handled it really well for your first time.”

“Whose first time?” Eden showed up, resting her chin on Bruce’s shoulder, and he nearly passed out from sheer shock and panic that she might have slipped on by talking about his first time. But she wrapped her arm around his middle, and the group was considerably more interested in this new public display of affection.

“Ooh, what is this?” Kola motioned between them. “Bruce, did she finally Shake your Speare?”

“Yeah, did you finally go Ham on her Let?” Angela added.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he murmured into his drink, completely horrified.

His survival instinct should’ve kicked in moments ago and told him to run for his life, but somehow, even as the group made puns out of their expense, turning him beet red, Bruce didn’t feel like running away. Despite everything, they’re laughing with him, not at him. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but he wondered if, perhaps, there was room in these people’s home —Eden’s home— for him, too.

***

ACT FOUR

Gotham City, Bruce’s true home, was quiet. Cold. All too vast in the dining room where he and Alfred had their Christmas dinner, and the halls they wandered through in their own time—dark and desolate in its Gothic nature. But all too cramped and chaotic as he weaved through the streets and back alleys in his beat-up Honda CB, the city too grotesque, too… somber.

Bruce’s phone buzzed in his pocket, twice, just as he worked on the Corvette in the spacious garage basement of the Wayne Tower. He rolled out from under the car, wiping the oil grease off of his hand before he opened the text.

‘Say hello to my new friend!’ Eden’s message said, with a selfie to go with it. She sported a toothy grin, wavy hair blowing in the wind, pointing at a green crab in the sand by the shoreline. A true embodiment of a ray of summer sun on a gloomy winter day.

“Since when d’you text?” Alfred commented.

“Dunno,” Bruce hummed absentmindedly, typing a reply. ‘Ugh, extroverts. Can’t relate.’

She texted back immediately, ‘You’re just jealous you’re not A) at the beach and B) hanging out with me right now,’ with another selfie — this time laying on a beach towel, throwing a peace sign as if her yellow bikini didn’t draw his eyes right into her cleavage and her curves weren’t angled in the exact way he fucked her before he drove her to the airport two weeks ago.

And the worst part of it all? She was right on all counts.

Bruce bit back a smile, forcing himself to look away from the screen because he would definitely pitch a tent if he looked a little too long. It was just his luck that he happened to meet Alfred’s gaze peering from behind the hood, secretly (but also, not so secretly) elated by this new development.

“So I take it you made a friend, huh?”

“Hn.”

“What’s she like?”

“She? That’s presumptuous,” Bruce grumbled, tucking his phone back into his pocket. But Alfred raised his eyebrows at him as if saying he wasn’t born yesterday, and he found himself rolling back and forth in his spot on the wheeled slider. And then… “But she’s alright.”

The older man kept his voice even and his gleeful grin at bay, for which Bruce was somewhat grateful. “And where is she now?”

“Back home in Hawaii.”

“Huh. I hear Hawaii is great this time of year.”

Bruce tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Hawaii’s great any time of the year. That’s why they have a rainbow on their license plate.”

Alfred actually snorted this time —he never recalled this proper British gentleman ever responding to his remark in such a… juvenile way. “And what does Gotham have?”

“I don’t know, rain and—” he motioned around the garage, “Home, I guess.”

“Yeah, what else is new,” Alfred dryly noted. Then, leaning back against the bumper of the car,. “Hawaii, on the other hand… You’ve never been, have you?”

Bruce side-eyed him, an all-too-familiar, non-verbal look that meant, where are you going with this?

“I’m just saying,” Alfred started, “Enjoy the sun, drive a car with a rainbow license plate on it.” He returned the side-eye right back at the younger man. “Hang out with your friend.”

Bruce was ready to brush it off. It was simply something he didn’t use to do —but then again, neither was texting. And as much as he wanted to make another counterargument, his phone buzzed again in his pocket. Alfred returned his attention to the engine in front of him, as if he’d made his point, and it somehow felt worse than being looked straight in the eye.

“It wouldn’t kill you to enjoy yourself every once in a while, you know.”

***

Bruce had a very particular way of texting, which Eden found endearing. He retained that placid —at times seemingly aloof— tone, but his dry humor shined through over a higher word count than his usual spoken conversations and came up at the most random times.

One message came in just as she dried herself off after an early morning surf.

‘Alfred just went on vacation and he doesn’t trust me enough to NOT set the house on fire, so… wanna hang out?’

Eden frowned at the screen. The lack of emoji didn’t usually bother her, but this time, she wasn’t sure if he was fucking with her or not. ‘Wtf are you talking abt?’ she replied.

Her phone dinged twice —first with an incoming picture of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the back porch of a house, pristine blue water gleaming in the background; and then a location pin, merely 15 minutes away from her house. No caption, no context whatsoever. And yet, Eden understood it just enough —she always did with Bruce.

‘NO WAY!!!’ she texted back immediately, and then added, ‘Send me a selfie so I know you’re not an axe murderer trying to lure me into your trap.’

The three-dotted bubble hovered in their chat window for a few seconds, and then disappeared. Popped up, and then it was gone again. Eden couldn’t help but picture him trying to protest, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed as he typed up and deleted his response. She was certain she was gonna get a sardonic Bruce-esque quip in the reply, but instead, she received something better.

Another picture of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beach. But this time, Bruce was there, squinting in the sun, lips pulled up —is that a smile he was attempting?—, his sweater hoodie pulled up to the top of his head. God, he was adorable.

‘Don’t fucking go anywhere.’ Eden’s thumbs were frantic against her phone screen and she stuffed all of her belongings into her bag and hauled her surfboard onto her car.

She loved the unhurried pace of her home island. Time moved slower on Maui and so did she. It was an ordinary Tuesday morning and the cars cruised along the road like they had nowhere to be… and Eden would have enjoyed it on any other day. Any other day, God, but this. When this peculiar, funny, handsome boy happened to show up just minutes away from her house, nearly 5,000 miles from where he lived.

She held back from honking the horn on every car in her way along the main road. Instead, she kept her mind occupied with some questions. Yes, she did wish he was here since she arrived, but did she think he was actually gonna do it? And now that he did, what then? Should she bring him home to her parents? That sounds so serious, she cringed at the idea. Oh God, what does this make us?!

“Your destination is on the right,” the navigation AI on her phone startled her. Eden nearly jumped out of her seat and missed the driveway, tucked between palm trees and shrubberies.

A black Porsche Cayman was already parked outside the villa. The white exterior was simple —modest, almost, but the tall glass windows and the sheer size of the building gave away its true luxury. Eden had to remind herself to slow down, give herself time to collect her own thoughts. But as she climbed up the steps to the entrance, Bruce emerged from the front door, wearing the same gray hoodie he took the selfie in, just with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose bridge this time. He sheepishly waved at her.

Her heart grew three sizes at the sight of him, and yet the first thing that flew out of her mouth was, “You fucking bitch!”

His hand, still held up, was now alert. “Look, I can explain.”

She stopped, just a few steps away from him. “Explain, then.”

“I know it’s…” he took off his sunglasses. “It’s a lot. And… I hope you don’t find it creepy—”

“When did you fly out here?”

“12 hours ago.”

“When did you decide to fly out here?”

He paused. “Remember when you were texting me about the green crab?”

Eden did the math. There’s only a couple of hours gap between his decision and his departure. “Right, I forgot you were stinkin’ rich.”

“Are you mad?”

He sounded so quiet, so timid, and it had only just dawned on her how new this was for him, too. How nerve-wracking. “Of course I’m not mad,” she immediately brushed it off, closing the distance so she could hold him in her arms again —oh, how good it was to have him in her arms again. “You’re just… gah!”

There was disbelief in her tone, maybe frustration, but it wasn’t the slightest bit venomous. Instead, she pulled him into a kiss. Fervent, as the weight of separation in the last two weeks had been lifted off of her shoulders. Amorous, as the weight of her… feelings set in. The fondness. The longing. The yearning of everything she remembered —his kiss, his touch, his presence— and everything she couldn’t have possibly memorized no matter how much she wanted to.

The softest scent that lingered on his clothes and his person. The pattern he drew on the small of her back. The ever so surprising strength of him as he hoisted her legs around his waist and carried her into the house.

He set her down on the oversized couch, kneeling between her legs. A silhouette of sharp nose and sharper jawline backlit against the late-morning sun streaming in from the French doors behind him. She wanted to admire him so bad, to get the offending sweater and the pants out of the way. To immerse herself in his lean frames, the taut lines of his collarbones, his torso, the grooves on his hips. Instead, he just… stilled.

“What.”

“I like this.” His finger traced the front of Eden’s rashguard, ghosting at her teasing neckline. Hovering over the zipper tentatively as if asking for permission.

She tutted impatiently, pulling it down to reveal the electric blue bikini top underneath. Peeling the outer layer off and shimmying out of her pants. And throughout all of this, Bruce still stood by, shamelessly ogling her. She playfully kicked him in the back of his thigh. “Take your clothes off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He tugged the sweater off over his head and leaned in to kiss her again, like he was still craving more of her (she couldn’t blame him, she also hadn’t had enough. She’s not sure she ever would.)

The straps behind her neck and in the middle of her back came undone with one pull, and Bruce was all over her newly-exposed tits. Reacquaint himself with her ribcage tattoo as if he didn’t commit every line, every stroke of color to memory. Fluttering as he knocked the wind out of her with every line, every stroke of his fingers on her slick cunt.

After spending most of their last couple of weeks at school together, Eden thought they’d get it out of their system. The novelty of it all. But the sun never shined on Bruce’s pale skin like this. It never streamed in from their dorm room windows quite so warmly in the New Haven winter. They’ve never had this much room to themselves, not having to worry about noises and next door neighbors.

It was just the two of them, naked and hidden away at the same time in this tiny pocket of a cove.

She’d never been shy about anything ever, but somehow the heat got to her cheeks when she heard her own obscene moan reverberate through the entire first floor, over the sharp slapping of skin as Bruce pounded into her through her orgasm. Arching into him to take all of him deep inside, two weeks of pent-up release and all.

“Okay?” he tucked a wild strand of hair behind her ear.

His breathing was heavy, too, but his hand on her back was soothing. He kissed her shoulder and neck, barely —mostly just nuzzling his whole face against her like the gentlest creature she’d ever known. And he truly was a gentle thing. She loved that about him.

And for the first time, she entertained the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she loved him, too.

“I…” she started. “I’m glad you’re here.”

It wasn’t what she was gearing up for, but it would have to do.

For now.

***

ACT FIVE

I’m glad you’re here.

Those four words kept playing on loop in Eden’s head as they made out half-asleep on the couch. Standing under the rain shower in the main bathroom (Well, he was standing; she was on her knees, gagging on his cock.) Giggling in the kitchen as they attempted —and failed— to recreate the Beanjamin’s famous grilled cheese for breakfast. Dipping their toes in the sand, leisurely wading into the shallow waters behind the villa.

She meant every word, sure, but that wasn’t all she meant to say. It’s one word less, but weighs more than what she could imagine. But she couldn’t say it. Not now. Not when things were so nice and quiet and good.

“You know you don’t have to spend all your time with me here, right?”

Eden threw him a funny look, hiding the sudden spike of worry inside. “It’s been, like, half a day. Are you kicking me out already?”

“No! God, no. I know that —I mean, you must’ve made plans, right? With your friends and your family while you’re home. I’m just saying…” he took a deep breath, trying to gather his words —and in doing so, gathered her in his arms, too. “You should still do that. I’ll be fine.”

She hummed, not disagreeing. “And what are you gonna do while I’m away?”

“I don’t know, see the sights? Hike? Snorkel?” Bruce looked out at the horizon, where the sea met the sky, and the trees fringing on the side.

“Snorkel? I didn’t even know you could swim.” Eden grinned at the thought of Bruce swimming with little fish. They found a whole throng of turtles just off of his back deck and he nearly lost his mind over excitement —as much excitement as his range of expressions allowed, anyway.

He made a face, incredulous and just a little offended. “Of course I can swim.”

“You sure? ‘Cause I can get you a floatie if you want. I think I saw a flamingo one back at the house.”

“Fuck you…” he giggled —a sound so bright and warm that she couldn’t resist being infected by it, even as he attacked her with tickles on her side.

“No, fuck you, Brucie.” She struggled to keep his hands off, even weaving in some pokes on his waist as well, getting into a play-wrestle until they tumbled into the water. Eden came out on top, laughing victoriously as Bruce’s eyes squeezed shut as a wave crashed into his head from behind. “You sure you don’t want the floatie?”

He splashed her right in the face.

Eden had never seen such color in Bruce, such life, and she hoped it would stick around. Happiness looked good on him.

***

Bruce would never admit this to Alfred or Eden, but coming to Hawaii was a huge gamble. He couldn’t remember the last time he went on vacation out of his own volition. He did remember the last time he went to the beach; 14 years ago with his parents. He couldn’t remember if it was this place or somewhere in Southeast Asia, and he regretted that the memory was lost on him.

Part of him was terrified setting foot in the sand would set off an ugly chain of reaction. He was worried that he would be overcome with loss —everything he’d buried in the back of his mind. But he liked the warmth, he liked having the turtles in his backyard —even though one of them bit him in the ankle on the second day and seemed to develop a personal vendetta against him. And Eden was right there to ease him into it.

At this point, he’s pretty sure she could talk him into anything. She successfully talked him into drinking coconut straight out of its shell (which was awesome), surfing (which was awful and he came out bruised and sunburned), and a beach rave on New Year’s Eve (which was… not as bad as he expected.)

“I could get used to this,” Bruce piped up, unsure if he meant the sun and the beach… or playing house with Eden, eating pancakes for dinner on the daybed as the sun set before them.

“Mm, I think you’re having the Last Day syndrome.”

“What’s that?”

“Your vacation’s about to end and you kinda wish you could stay just a little longer —or even like, move here— but trust me, you don’t.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Because it’s an escape. The moment you give it more time than it actually has, it stops being a vacation and it just becomes… your life. And you might grow to resent it.”

They were quiet again. And once again, Bruce was not sure if she was talking about Hawaii or him.

“Then again, maybe a vacation is just what you needed. Remind you of what’s important,” she lightly said through a mouthful of pancakes.

She turned to him then, and her gaze nearly made his heart burst. The light hit her face just right, all tanned and golden. The saltwater made waves in her hair, and a cheeky smirk tickled the corner of her lips. In that moment, he knew what was important. And as she opened her mouth, so did he.

“Like wearing enough sunscreen —what?”

“I love you.”

Bruce froze. The smile on Eden’s mouth fell. And he thought it was over. This blissful honeymoon period, the whole fucking situationship between them… done. And it’s up to him to salvage whatever’s left of it.

If he could still salvage it.

“I’m sorry. Fuck. Forget I ever said anything —”

“No, wait. Hold up.” She sat right up, and Bruce had never been more terrified in his life. “Do you mean that?”

“I don’t know.” That was completely untrue, he does know if he means it. “Yes!” He went way too big, and she could totally hear the overcompensation in his tone. “I think so.”

“You think so?” her eyebrows shot up.

Great, now he sounded like a dick. “Wait, that’s not what I meant. I… Look. I’ve never —”

“Been with anyone, I know. You were a blushing virgin when we met,: she huffed playfully.

He groaned. “Can we not?”

“And this has nothing to do with dating experience whatsoever. I just… I just wanna know if this is the Last Day syndrome talking, or if this is… it.”

Bruce had no idea how to answer that. He wanted it to be true, but he had no way of knowing which one was wishful thinking and which one was plain old fact. And Eden had no way of knowing how desperately he wanted it to be it.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he eventually said. A relent. Acceptance.

Defeat.

“I know I don’t.” She took a heavy breath, looking out at the horizon. It’s mostly dark now. “I want to, though.”

“Really?”

Eden nodded tentatively. “I just need to figure out if this is it. I hope you understand that.”

“Right. Of course.” And with that, Bruce nodded back, straightening up, giving her some space —well, as much space as they could allow in this daybed. It’s funny how massive it felt before the elephant in the room got between them.

But Eden closed the distance again, planting a kiss on his lips —nothing but warmth between them— and said, “But I really hope it is.”

And God, they really hoped it was enough.

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