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solac1um · 5 years ago

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Brief Respite

I’ve also posted this on AO3! Written for the this fanfic collab.

Basically my first actual attempt at sexy writing. I tried to blend my default style into it, got a bit carried away, tried to shoehorn a piece of dialogue in, etc. Hopefully it came out at least miiiildly readable? Lmao. Anyway this was super self-indulgent, the Nakahechi route is, indeed, very special to me, although I’ve only ever been there once. If I lived in Japan, though, it would definitely be somewhere I visit yearly. A person can dream, I guess.

Izuku x GN!Reader

———

One of those nights again. He'd returned home, to lay his weary body on the couch next to you with a sigh, staring empty-eyed at a blank phone screen in one hand, the other seeking yours gingerly - too gingerly.

You'd put your book down, curled into his side and turned his face to yours. He'd looked so tired it broke your heart. As if in response to that thought, he'd attempted a smile. "I'm okay, don’t worry about m-"

"- don't give me that. Right now, I'm not a colleague who needs to be reassured." Your fingers brushed soft locks from his face as you'd peered into his eyes. "How many times have I told you not to bring work home with you, baby? You don't have to be a hero within these four walls." You'd brushed a thumb over his cheekbone. "If Izuku is tired, or worried, or scared, let him. You need to take care of this, too." And you'd tapped your fingers on his chest over his heart, watched the perfect veneer crumble, let him cry in your arms.

Later, stroking his shower-damp hair as he slept, you'd decided you both needed a good, week-long vacation.

Besides, it was that time of the year. You made a pilgrimage to the mountains of Kii Hantou every year, since it captured your heart the first time, walking the same route. This trail has seen you through your progress as a rescue hero. From worrying about being able to pass your first fitness test, to attempting harder and harder stretches of the trail every time you returned. The Nakahechi route witnessing you in all your seasons. For you, it was less religious, more a place that felt like home, that surrounded and held you, that kept safe your fears and dreams. And this time, you got to bring her the person you'd been telling her about for so long.

"For the next week," you'd told Izuku firmly, pressed against his side on the bus rumbling through the quiet countryside. "You're not a hero, you're not on duty, and neither am I, and no one is going to put us on call for anything. The only thing I'm fixing is food for lunch every day. And if someone has the gall to interrupt the first real vacation you've had in the 8 years you've been a pro hero, it better be because the world is literally crumbling." You stare into his eyes, still so guileless after so long. "Mmkay? Promise me."

His eyes are always so gentle when they behold you. "I'll try, puppy," he'd said, kissing your forehead. "But no promises."

It would have to do. You know how much his work means to him. You lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. "Good enough for me."

You watch as Izuku navigates the undulating paths with more ease than you could ever hope to muster. You lead the way, but only because he keeps pace with you. Your excitement is his excitement. You watch as he gapes at the landscape, his boyish excitement not lost to age - "you come here every year? I bet you don't ever get sick of it!" (You don't.) You laugh with him as he giggles at the "not Kumano Kodo" signs along the way. Signs you were in stitches to see the first time you walked this route. You watch him absolutely demolish the home-cooked meals every family-owned establishment feeds you both, lean into the soft comfort of quiet conversation before bedtime, his hands wandering languidly, affectionately over your skin.

Time and the mountains swallow your five days. Early mornings, sun dappled lunches sitting on logs. Walking rain drenched, through the gates of the hongu grand shrine, the water from the basin so cold your hands numb. The damp rough of the rope in your hands, the melodious rattle of the bell. Walking the grounds, cold and tired, picking out omamori for the both of you. (You always returned them at the new year, knowing you'd be back to get another one) Stopping before the gate to kiss Izuku in the rain, sweet and full of intent.

You’d booked a hotel with a hot spring for your last night there. It isn’t the biggest - that was expensive and always booked out a year in advance - but it is fancy enough, and has private bath rooms. You were a frequent visitor on your travels. Besides, you’d like some time to stare at your man in the nude, thank you very much.

The temperature of the hot bath is delicious after a cold late-autumn day in the rain. Your hands and feet are numb. You’d barely registered your shower, hurriedly rinsing suds from your skin and hair, nearly flinging yourself into the hot bath. You sigh as the shock of the heat fades into a warmth that wraps around you. An eye on the clock, you watch Izuku as he showers. He is so familiar, and no less beautiful for it; cut in marble, almost, your Adonis. How long had it been since you’d had the time to-

“Puppy?” You’re drawn back out of your head to concerned eyes on you. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed. Maybe you should go have a rinse so you don’t overheat…”

You blink at him. “I, ah. No. I’m okay, I’ve only been in here for uh” - a glance at the clock - “Five minutes.” You flash him a smile. “Come join me, the water’s great.” And he obliges.

You want to enjoy the bath, you really do, but you seem to have miscalculated just how fatally distracting it would be to have him next to you, so tantalisingly undressed. You sigh and lean your head on his shoulder, trying to ignore the tendrils of desire you feel rising deep in your core. He hums and deposits a kiss on your head, and warmth blooms in your rib cage.

Had it really already been seven years? Eight, since you first met in the debris of a fallen building, the aftermath of some villain’s harebrained scheme. Dirt-streaked and exhausted. You, working your first year as a rescue hero, and he, almost fresh out of UA. You’d both unwound over a cup of shitty coffee in the break room of the hospital afterward, a conversation cut short, that’d led to another. And another, and another. And here you both are.

“You’ve got that faraway look in your eyes again.” Izuku nuzzles you. “You’re so pensive today. Is everything alright?”

You giggle, lean in for a kiss that you draw out. “Couldn’t be better. After all, I get to spend aaall this time with the love of my life.” His eyes hold yours, a little hazy as you pull away. Entranced. You watch, with some pride, the blush dust his freckled cheek. It’s flattering that you can still do that, after all this time.

“Did you miss me that much,” he mumbles, and your barely-audible “too much” and the resounding yes in your mind brims over. His face is in your hands, your lips are on his again, sweet and insistent and ravenous. And the water burns on your skin, or is it the heat in your skin, the way your breath is stolen from your lips, the way your head is spinning?

His breathing is ragged when you pull back, a fire in his eyes that finds its echo somewhere in your belly.

You find your words first. “Let’s get out of here,” you say, taking him by the wrist. “Before we both get a heat stroke.”

The walk back feels like eternity. Bodies pressed into each other, huddling for warmth, for contact. The door clicks shut behind you, your hands are on him, tangled in his hair, breathless against his lips. Kissing him, his body against the mattress, your body against his, imprinting the length, the shape of his desire into your contours. His hands on your hips. You gasp into his lips, drawing a groan. The whisper of fabric as the sash of his yukata comes undone in your hands. Your fingers on his skin, trailing down his body, his breath hitching in his throat.

"You are so beautiful," you murmur against his skin. "These shoulders shouldn't always have to carry the weight of the world."

He sighs. You let your fingers trail down his form, studying every dip and curve and freckle and scar. “Let me spoil you today, baby. You work too hard.” You've long memorised the constellations in his skin, the way muscle under skin flutters beneath your hands, the way it does now as your touch wanders, fingertips and lips, down to the waistband.

He shivers, bites back a moan. Straining. You run a hand along his length, through the fabric, fingers finding the elastic, and you tug, achingly slow.

Lips brush the weeping tip, catching his precum on your tongue. You take him slowly, sucking the swollen skin, tearing a groan from his throat. A hand in your hair - gentle pressure, but enough to feel the tension humming in his veins. He breathes, a drawn out, shuddering breath.

Slowly, agonisingly slowly.

You moan, a sound that starts in your throat and reverberates into the cavern of your mouth, and he feels it. “F-fuck–” his breath hitches, and you hum. You take him deeper, your hands wandering the planes of his stomach, his thighs.

Deft lips, and a practiced tongue, you devour him. His tip hits the back of your throat and you groan. His taste is so familiar, your blood thundering in your ears and you are so full of him, and all you know is him. And you hold the moment, as he squirms, for what would have been a breath, or two, or three -

- and you pull back, only to push down again, feel him twitch and swell between your lips as you move. Hungry for his passion, his unravelling, faster and faster.

Izuku’s hand is in your hair, grip almost demanding. The taste and heat of him on your tongue, egging you on, fuelled by the sound of his voice, caught between a groan and a whimper, the way he shifts and trembles, back arching away from the mattress. His body a line of perfect tension as you guide him to his climax.

His own hand stops you. “Puppy, baby, wait, I–”

“Mmm?” You hum, earning yourself another soft gasp.

“I- I need to be inside you.”

You pull back, lips gliding over his length, leave him aching. You’ll make him wait a little, you’ve waited for this for so long. You look up at him, through your eyelashes, faux bashful. “Yeah?”

You grind against his cock slowly, teasing, and he draws a shuddering breath. “Are you going to ask?” You breathe the words into the air between your lips and his, close enough to feel him whimper as you move against him again.

“Please,” he gasps. “Please, baby. I need you. I need this.”

You swallow the moan rising in your throat, lean in. “Good. Because,” you breathe, “I do too.” Your words meeting his parted lips before your own steal the choked moan that escapes - yours, or his - as you guide him into your velvet heat.

You’ve waited for this for so long.

You move slowly, savour every inch of him, the way his eyes hold yours, unfocused, the way he bites his lip and gasps at every thrust, not enough to silence his moans.

“Fuck, puppy, yes–” His voice catches on the edges of his pleasure. “Oh god, you feel amazing, puppy.”

You chuckle breathlessly. “Yeah, baby? Did you miss this? Just having time... to ourselves like this?” The heat rises in your core, the closeness and friction and fullness of his cock tearing a rawness from you. “You did, didn’t you?” you move faster, chasing intensity. “Tell - tell me.”

His hips twitch against you. "You– did I miss this," he gasps in the midst of a pleasure that threatens to steal his words, “Puppy, you have no idea, I - ah - all that… that wishing… for, for uneventful days so I can come home early, only for it to - ah - never happen, being too tired to do anything all these nights - oh fuck - h-having all that time on patrol, to all but dream of you and how I fucking ache for you. I-I’ve wanted you so much I can't breathe. Fuck, baby, I don't think you have a single inkling-”

And then they’re gone, shipwrecked in the storm of his pleasure as he takes you by the hips and thrusts up into you, the change in angle bringing you closer. And the desperation of his words and his touch make you want to lose the measure, fuck him into oblivion, sate a hunger you cannot name.

And so you do, bracing against the mattress, hips snapping against his, feeling your walls tighten around him. You drop your forehead to his, kiss him deeply. He groans into your lips, low and desperate. “Puppy, I’m- I’m going to cum-”

The need in his voice pushes you over the edge. You ride him through your orgasm, his name tearing ragged from your lips over and over as you convulse around him. Your hips don’t stop until his body echoes your climax, shuddering against you, twitching inside you.

You hold him until he stops trembling, until you stop trembling, until his breathing slows. Green eyes gaze at you, still hazy and so, so soft. You kiss him slowly, pull away to brush the hair from his sweat-damp brow, and he wraps his arms around you. “I love you, puppy,” he murmurs.

You press a kiss to his forehead. “And I love you, dearest.”

He hums and buries his face in your shoulder. “I really needed that.”

You run your hands through his curls, gently. “I know, baby. So did I.”

“Maybe we should... Do this more often,” he mumbles, drawing a soft laugh from you.

“Oh, definitely. Anything to get your workaholic butt to take a break every now and then, and spend time with me.” You touch a kiss to the side of his head. “Would you come with me again next year, if you can?”

He looks surprised and gratified. “You really want me to? I’d love to.”

You bump your nose against his. “Don’t look so surprised. If the last seven years is anything to go by, there isn’t a part of my life I want separate from you.”

He responds with a tight hug. “Me neither. Thank you, puppy.”

You let your fingertips wander, tracing idle patterns in the sweat cooling on his skin. “You know, since we’re going to have to go take another shower, let’s go enjoy that private hot spring without getting distracted.”

Izuku laughs. “What are the chances?” You flick him lightly on the shoulder. “What?” He looks at you innocently, all big guileless eyes. “It’s not my fault you’re so distracting.”

You roll your eyes, tugging him up. “Oh you sweet talker, you. C’mon, before it gets late.”

#bnha #my hero academia #deku x reader #izuku x reader #mha #boku no hero academia #yatoverse #pls don’t eat me i’m just a noob

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solac1um · 5 years ago

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“You’re Not a Good Writer.”

I once received a DM comprised of just that sentence. Nothing else. No constructive criticism or any reason as to why this person clearly agreed with my own view of myself.

For someone who has never told anyone in their real life that they write anything, reading something like this from an anonymous user only solidified in my mind the fact that this person was right.

I’m not a good writer.

After an embarrassing amount of minutes passed, in which I thought about deleting every story I ever posted, I decided to delete the message instead. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean I could delete the feelings it caused or change the fact that I’m not a good writer.

Two weeks went by and I didn’t write anything, let alone post. Then I received a comment on a story I had posted three years prior, one I’d written after a death in our family. The comment read, “Thank you for sharing this heartfelt story. I really needed this. I just lost my mom and this really got me today.”

I stopped thinking about being a good writer after that. I thought instead, “what if I had deleted my stories and that one person three years later hadn’t read it that day?”

Here’s what I realized: no one is a good writer.

Good means to be approved of, but stories aren’t created from approval. They’re built from life experiences, feelings, and emotions Therefore, the impact of anyone’s story isn’t good or bad. It’s a million other things.

Heartfelt.

Sad.

Funny.

Inspiring.

Romantic.

So to all the story writers out there, hold your head up, write what is in your heart, and never doubt that there isn’t at least one person out there that needs to read your story.

So, no.

We’re not good writers, but why would we want to be?

#thanks #I'm a fucking shitty writer but I hope to one day touch your heart #in the meantime have more shitty writing

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solac1um · 5 years ago

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inspired by a couple of tweets by des/hornsandtales! it reminded me of when i was learning to free dive and used to get panic attacks in the water. also, my mc has no sense of self preservation and neither do i so here we are lmao. i don’t write levi a lot so,, sorry if he’s ooc. but I had to write this. pls have mercy.

"you ready?" leviathan's hand finds yours, weaving his fingers between your own. he's confident, here; this is his territory. you bring his hand to your lips, plant a fleeting kiss.

"ready as ever, gorgeous."

you let him lead you into the waves.

the first thing you notice is how at home he seems in the water, more comfortable than he is on dry land. you aren't surprised, but it was something else to see in person. and a welcome distraction from the unease in the pit of your stomach. you paddle behind him, relishing the way your fins push against the water. you travel more effortlessly than you're used to, with the three kilograms of your weight belt; the water seems to carry you. today, the ocean is your lover's arms.

leviathan turns to check on you every few strokes, the muted sunlight glowing in eyes the colour of the sunset on a clear day. you flash a smile through your mask.

he stops, and the water eddies around the both of you. "here."

you let your legs sink under you. you don't need a float here, not with him. the sea waits with you, this time. you start your breathe up, holding his forearms instead of a floatation device. he watches, head tilted. everything feels so still, this time. all you can hear is the beat of your heart, pounding in your ears, the jolt in your blood that accompanies the prospect of a held breath. leviathan catches your vacant stare and holds it. you got this. you smile weakly and take the penultimate breath of your preparation.

"you okay there?"

you nod, with more assurance this time.

"alright, then. i'll go down with you. take your time. i know you said you want as little help as possible, but i'm here. it'll be okay. take that final breath good and slow."

you empty your lungs and breathe in so much ocean air you think you will explode. and then, head over heels, you plunge into the depths. you see the glint of sunlight on levi's tail. he's there. and you give chase.

he is never more than two meters ahead of you. he lets you navigate the water, as you requested, but stays close. you are moving, but the space in your head is quiet without the rattle of your breath. thirty seconds, probably. you're still comfortable. you allow yourself a grin as you chase the bright blue of levi's scales. he turns, coming to swim beside you, and you stop.

you look up, away from him for the first time. the reef extends above and around you both. for a moment, you forget the tension in the back of your throat, the fear in your chest cavity. it's wondrous.

"i thought you'd like it." levi's voice echoes in your head. you blink at him, surprised, and he laughs. "wanna go closer?"

you nod, smiling, all fear forgot.

you glide together over the bright corals, for a few heartbeats. the fish are surprisingly agreeable, under leviathan's sway. it is as if they don't see you at all. you watch, wide-eyed, as they swim around you, brushing up against you harmlessly as if you are just so much coral. levi smiles at your excitement from beside you. you reach out to take his hand, when you realise your lungs are burning.

he looks up at your touch into your wide, panicked eyes. you struggle, your hand now a vicegrip on his wrist. he is beside you in a flash, eyes boring into yours. "love. try to relax. we'll get you out in a bit."

you don't hear him, your eyes vacant. he makes to pull you to the surface, but watches the air in your lungs escapes in a veil of bubbles. your body tenses, eyes screwed shut, you struggle to keep from reflexively inhaling water -

- and suddenly, the touch of lips on yours, and the pressure ebbs. you open your eyes as your body completes the breath it begun. you feel the water rush into your mouth and out your... gills? you give your hands a quick once-over and, satisfied to see you are still very much human, you stare at him in open-mouthed confusion.

levi looks abashed. "i-i-i-i-i, uh, i made you able to breathe underwater for a while."

your laughter dissolves in a cloud of bubbles. his expression is apologetic. "should i have.... not? i know you wanted as little help as possible, but you looked like you were in trouble and i-"

you take his chin in your hand and kiss him firmly, fastening your arms around his torso. you look up, your heart swelling at the blush of tender blue that graces his cheeks. you press his hand. thank you. he smiles shyly, and you stare agape at the light glistening on his face.

he holds your gaze, suddenly serious.

before you, slowly, his demon form ripples and changes. you watch as his body lengthens, changes, twisting. watch as limbs grow and fuse, watch the spines and fins rising from his back, watch as the irises that behold you are now no longer two, but four, still the same violent colour of a sky at sundown. you watch them, watch you imperiously. the grand admiral of hell's navy. you're transfixed. leviathan watches you, wordless, and you feel the entirety of the ocean around you holding its breath.

somewhere, at the back of your mind, you remember that the word for fear and the word for awe in another language somewhere were one and the same, or something along those lines. you are entranced by the iridescent scales. "good lord," you breathe, forgetting yourself, forgetting where you are, that the water swallows every sound, your words disappearing into streams of bubbles. "you're beautiful."

this must be what it feels like to behold a god. awe and fear and terror and love. you do not flinch, despite the cocktail of emotions sparking in your veins. you hold levi's gaze, watch as he blinks slowly at you. you're not sure if you should reach out, break the precariousness of the moment.

and then it is over, and the demon is there again, still watching, still waiting. breath after inexistent breath, you grasp for something steadying, but simply stare, agape. and you reach out steadily, to beckon him wordlessly to the surface.

#I not tagging her bc I Shy #I'm new pls don't eat me #obey me #obey me leviathan #leviathan x reader #om leviathan #also excuse the lowercase #I originally didn't intend to publish it

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solac1um · 5 years ago

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If anyone here is interested in writing exchange/challenge, please like or reblog this. I will follow up if enough people are interested.

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solac1um · 5 years ago

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my dad–also a writer–came to visit, and i mentioned that the best thing to come out of the layoff is that i’m writing again. he asked what i was writing about, and i said what i always do: “oh, just fanfic,” which is code for “let’s not look at this too deeply because i’m basically just making action figures kiss in text form” and “this awkward follow-up question is exactly why i don’t call myself a writer in public.”

he said, “you have to stop doing that.”

“i know, i know,” because it’s even more embarrassing to be embarrassed about writing fanfic, considering how many posts i’ve reblogged in its defense.

but i misunderstood his original question: “fanfic is just the genre. i asked what you’re writing about.”

i did the conversational equivalent of a spinning wheel cursor for at least a minute. i started peeling back the setting and the characters, the fic challenge and the specific episode the story jumps off from, and it was one of those slow-dawning light bulb moments. “i’m writing about loneliness, and who we are in the absence of purpose.”

as, i imagine, are a lot of people right now, who probably also don’t realize they’re writing an existential diary in the guise of getting television characters to fuck.

“that’s what you’re writing. the rest is just how you get there, and how you get it out into the world. was richard iii really about richard the third? would shakespeare have gotten as many people to see it if it wasn’t a story they knew?”

so, my friends: what are you writing about?

#mhm this is so true #realising it on my way home today #all the things i never got to explore in my brain growing up #all the things im processing now #now that i have started writing again

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solac1um · 5 years ago

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u know when u like,, second-person is easier to write for me bc of my weird ass style, and it gets me in the right headspace, but like mooshing it back into third-person makes the voice really weird and i just aagjjafgjfnh

#im screm

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solac1um · 5 years ago

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(just some short and not-very-edited kiri x reader. cancer season got me bad. i wanted to write something gross and self indulgent to process. if anyone stumbles upon this, i hope it is useful to you, too.

based on yagami yato’s take on kiri, bc that’s basically the kiri that resides in my brain, haha)

your key clicks in the lock. he's not home, yet. you stumble onto the couch, near tears. it's been a rough season, too many hiccups at work, too many thoughts chasing each other in your head. you curl up in the corner between the armrest and the back rest and bury your face in a cushion with a sigh.

you must have fallen asleep, because you're woken by a kiss and the familiar scent of cologne. you raise your head, bleary-eyed.

"hey there, pebble– whoa. are you okay?"

you shake your head wordlessly, tears welling in your eyes again. you bury your head back into the cushion exasperatedly. eijirou slides onto the couch, arms encircling you. a refuge, by instinct. "what happened, darling?"

"i'm just... so overwhelmed," you mumble tearily. "i keep feeling so trapped and frustrated and i don't know what to do about it, i hate it but i still have to stick with this." you're escalating into sobbing, but you can't bring yourself to rein it in anymore. the words pour out of you. "i know the whole 'i can learn something from this' schtick, but it doesn't make it suck any less, and i'm so sick of putting on that positive face, i'm so tired," you sob into his chest. he tightens his arms around you and lets you cry, a hand rubbing circles on your shoulder, murmuring into your hair. he is comforting, warm and unyielding, a stability amid the turbulence. you nestle into his side, wrapping your arms around his torso, ride out the violence twisting in the pit of your stomach.

he waits for you to calm down, to meet his eyes again. gentle, calloused fingers brush your tears away, pausing to stroke your cheek.

"hey, pebble," he says, and you almost smile. "i love you."

you swat at him, still unable to speak.

"what? hey. it's true." he takes your face in his hands. "i know it's been hard, pebble. you've been dealing with a lot, and i can't imagine it's any sort of easy to keep going the way you have."

his eyes hold yours, steady, unmoving, no room for judgement, nor for protest.

"but i want you to know that even though i can't fight this" – he kisses your forehead – "for you, i can at least give you somewhere to crash." his thumb brushes your cheekbone, his gaze is soft, so soft, the bitterness in you recoils. tears well up again, and he kisses them away. "i love you, pebble, you're the strongest person i know. even when you don't want to be, i know there's something unconquerable right in there." you crack a smile. you haven't heard that before. he chuckles. "see? all it took was me using a word that's a little too big for me." you bump your forehead against his, a gentle reproach. tender hands brush your hair from your face as you pull away. "but seriously. when you're tired, and when you're sick of being strong, let me be strong for you, okay? let your boulder do something for you every once in a while."

you lean your head back on his chest and relax into his familiar form, let him murmur reassurance into your ear. if nothing else, you know you are safe here.

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