#pixwritesstuff

[pix-writes]

I can hear your heartbeat

Vampire!Stanford Pines x F!Reader

Summary: Ford encounters a creature in the woods that bites him and he seems to be a little… strange. He can't seem to focus with his lab assistant around.

AO3

Words: 3.4K

Rating: Explicit (18+) | Warnings/tags: blood drinking, smut, mutual pining, possessive!ford, mildly dub con (because of circumstances, if you squint?), passing out/fainting, blood and vampire kink (ofc), no use of y/n | A/N: Here's my vampire ford fic, happy halloween!

He knows that you know something’s not quite right. He pauses in his journal entry as he risks a glance in your direction.

He knows that you know something’s not quite right. He pauses in his journal entry as he risks a glance in your direction. You were focused, head bent over your work, leaving him the sight of your curved neck. Sensing that you are being observed, you look up across the lab and meet his eyes.

He can almost fancy that he can hear your heartbeat change as he resumes writing, the steady thump-thump rising to a faster tempo. He can feel your stare as he looks down at his page… now, your heart’s rhythm goes back to resting. Ford has always felt a comfort in your presence, now it seemed to be permeating the whole house… warm, inviting. It’s become a distraction.

He needed to recall in detail what he had observed of his latest creature sighting, he crosses out his last line, realising that he had actually written about you in his distracted state. He just needed to convince you that he was fine, so he could continue to observe the effects, he had most of an antidote ready once he had recorded what he needed.

It had all started a few days ago, you had been at an out of town harvest fair. You had tried to persuade Ford to take a step out of the lab for once, though he declined. It was the perfect evening to study the nocturnal fungi species he had been observing in the forest.

Suddenly, out of nowhere he had been chased, heard the beating of leathery, wide wings of a bat-like creature. It had pursued him for half of the journey and despite his frantic attempts to shake him off, the creature had been able to sink his claws into him and left a bite before he managed to get some good punches in, rolling off of a verge down into thicket. The vampiric creature flew off at that point, whether it was the forest terrain or the fighting that had deterred it from following him home from there, he didn’t know for certain.

You had found him, of course you had. He had lost so much time, that by the time he had gotten over the threshold, his strength had weakened, he’d dragged himself into the kitchen by the time you pulled up in your car. He could imagine now, how disturbing it must’ve been to see the house and him in such a state on your return. However, he didn’t catch it at the time, your determined mind a useful asset times of emergencies, patching him up. He had felt proud in that moment, despite his position, your attributes were perfect qualities in an assistant. Even if he had to endure a mild reprimand to lone working from you after the fact, he congratulated himself that he had found someone up to the tasks that his research would need.

You had insisted that he see a doctor, just in case, maybe the creature could’ve carried rabies. As the days wore on, though, he knew you weren’t satisfied with his explanations. You hadn’t said anything, but from your breathing, how your eyes widened, he sensed the slight fear. It was foolish of him, but Ford was only just realising your observant nature was not purely limited to study, but to people and your surroundings. Had you always been scrutinising him in this way before?

Ford felt a nagging guilt at the idea of withholding information from you, however, he didn’t want you to freak out. You could be mad at him later and once you saw his results, he was sure that you couldn’t be upset for long. After all, wasn’t it you he had caught reading those cheap, gothic romances a month into your acquaintance? It still amused him to find you at your desk during breaks reading them, irked that you had been interrupted. Sometimes he even found them on the shared counterspace in the lab and he had gleaned that vampires seemed to be a common denominator.

Part of him wished that Fiddleford was still here, having left you both for a long stay with family, although his good friend was more superstitious than either of you put together. Perhaps the house was too quiet without him? Though that didn’t seem right.

Working silently with someone who didn’t feel the need to converse (or play the banjo at odd hours) wouldn’t have bothered him before, in fact he liked how you weaved past one another in the lab when you were working on the same analysis, completely in tune. But something had shifted… his new state was testing his endurance, if only he had another distraction…

A hand waved in front of his face and he dropped his pen. “Earth to Ford!”

“Yes?”

“I’ve finished the first round of the experiment!” You grinned, beckoning him to follow you to your side of the lab. “I think it might need just a little adjustment with the amount of sample I used but…”

Absorbed in your own explanation, your elbow knocked over the tripod that held your analysis.

“Be careful!” 

“Shit, sorry I’ve got it!”

The crucible had broken, and you scrambled to pick it up and sliced one of your fingers in the process, letting out a hiss at the sting.

Ford had let in a breath at that moment. Big mistake. His senses had been flooded with the delicious scent of your blood. He dug his fingers into the flesh of his arm to centre himself.

He could feel saliva flood into his mouth, the soreness in his canines and tried to swallow. His vision became tunnelled, focused now on the scents of the room. He could hear his own heartbeat, fast and erratic in his ears. Not now!

“Clumsy me, stay back, I don’t want you to get acid on you!” You hadn’t picked up on anything strange about him as he moved back. Your voice sounding far away.

After sweeping up the broken pieces into the waste bucket, instinct made you go to put your bleeding finger into your mouth. Ford caught your arm harshly. 

“Don’t do that!” You looked at him quizzically. Ford could sense the fluctuations in your heartbeat. When you breathed in, the muscles in your neck, your jugular, became more prominent at this angle. Fuck. “It’s not hygienic.” 

“It’s like a papercut, Ford.” The thump, thump, thump became steady again.

“Here.” Quickly handing you a tissue to stem the flow, he opened the packaging on a band-aid.

You noticed the clench to his jaw. “I’m fine, you know, I can patch myself up.”

But he continued without saying anything, securely wrapping your finger, the tension remaining.

Ford was packing items back into the first aid kit when he suddenly stumbled, holding onto the counter so he didn’t fall. “Hey! Ford, you alright?”

“Ah, fine, I- um…”

You frowned. “I really think you need to go to see a doctor; this isn’t right.” Before he could stop you, your hands were cupping his face, checking him over. The heat of your hands felt like fire on his skin. “Your wound looks worse. And you’re freezing!”

“Maybe you’re right. I’ll go in the morning, first thing, don’t worry.” 

Ford told you to continue with what you were doing, and you relented under assurances that he’d take care of himself. He saw the disappointment in your eyes as he brushed you off. It took all of his will to not grab hold of you right then and there, wanting to sink into your touch and your care. You and Fidds were always clucking round him like mother hens. He felt so tired, his mind wanted him to give into it, but he pushed himself up the stairs, feeling with each step that haze that had almost overpowered him dissipate.

He let out a groan of relief once he closed his bedroom door. His skin felt like it was in a cold sweat. He dragged a hand through his hair and pulled at the roots to sharpen his focus. He couldn’t keep this up much longer, he needed to feed. Later, he told himself. Later.

Slipping out of your shoes, you navigated the quiet hallways of the shack, your home away from home, with care.

Ever since he had the encounter with that giant bat creature in the woods, he hasn’t been the same, perhaps anyone else would not notice the slight changes in his patterns, since he was one to neglect himself and bury himself in work on a daily basis, but you knew better. You had become determined to figure it out, once and for all.

He was too stubborn for his own good, something you clashed on at times, and so you hadn’t pushed him too much to seek medical attention, knowing there was a fine balance in how much you could say to Ford as his assistant. You had your suspicions of what was happening, but even then, it seemed absurd; you had seen some strange things happen in Gravity Falls, but could that really be real?

Just in case. Just for my peace of mind, you reassured yourself as you pulled the journal out of the pile of notes on Ford’s desk, flipping through sections to skip to the last entries. There must be something in here that can give you a clue to how to help him…

There was always a dim light in the lab, a faint bluish glow from the machinery that Fiddleford was working on. Sneaking around like this felt illicit and you knew that Stanford wouldn’t take kindly to you going through his work without permission. Turning on the desk lamp felt like it would dispel the stillness of the empty place and so you strained your eyes to read on in the light already provided.

A creak sounded from behind you, sending a jolt of panic to your gut.

“You shouldn’t be down here. It’s late.” The light backlit the figure’s silhouette as they stepped out from the doorframe, the tone unreadable. 

“S-Stanford!” You retreated from the desk. “You startled me. I was just-”

“-Sneaking around in the dark?” As he stepped forward, turning on one of the lamps, the warm lighting disrupting the angle of the shadows.

“Look, I apologise if I have crossed a line but,” You paused in your answer, noticing behind him in the storage room, where discarded cups had rolled across the table, leaving trails of blood. “I want to know what’s going on.”

“And what will you do with the answer?” The reply made you grit your teeth, hands balling up into fists. You felt awash with adrenaline. How dare he ask you such a thing! Did he think after all this time you’d do anything against him?

Without even thinking of it consciously, Ford had been stalking towards you as you had been backing away and you bumped into the counter behind you.

“I just want to help you, Ford!” You didn’t mean for it to come out sounding indignant. It was almost a whine as Ford practically pinned you to the spot, gripping the counter either side of you. Your breath hitched at how close he was.

"I can hear your heartbeat." Ford’s eyes were dark as ink as he met your gaze. You shivered. “It's beating pretty fast.”

“Ford,” You let out a nervous laugh. “C'mon you're messing with me.”

“Seems to happen every time I get close to you. Do I make you nervous?”

“N-no I, nhg!” Your reply is cut off as Ford leans down to place a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist. The touch tickles your skin, making you flush with pleasure at the intimate sensation.

“Couldn’t stop yourself, could you?” It seemed like he was murmuring to himself, nuzzling his head into your hand and you catch a glimpse of pearly, sharp canines. “You want to help me? Because I don’t think I can stop myself right now.”

Even as alarm bells flood your mind at the situation, you didn’t stop him, didn’t pull away from his touch. Instead you gently pushed your thumb across his lips, inspecting the fangs, another shot of fear coursing through you. Stunned, you watched as Ford pressed a kiss to your wrist, opened his jaw and bit into your flesh in a supernaturally fluid motion.

The scream that escaped your mouth became stuck in your throat as the pain seared through you. It felt as though his fangs had hit bone.

The muscles in your body locked up. Heart thudding against your own chest, tears flowing unbidden from your eyes. You whimpered as Ford’s mouth felt tight around your now-open wound, free hand striking out at the table for support.

The stabbing pain suddenly subsided, leaving in its wake a pleasure that made you feel like you were on the drunk side of tipsy. It thrummed through your body, down between your legs.

You moaned, unable to look away from the sight of Ford, eyes glazed over as he took what he wanted from you.

Why had he resisted for so long?

The animal blood he had been gorging himself on just a moment ago, faded away in comparison to human blood. The salty taste of your skin giving him a complete contrast to the sweetness of your blood that was as blissful as it was hard to describe.

He felt every throb of your heart as he fed from you uncoiling his self-control, the shame in his gut from hurting you mixing with the lust he had pushed down for far too long. It wasn’t until your fingers carded through the side of his hair that a flash of clarity came over him and he loosened his grip on your arm. Soothing the bite with his tongue.

“Fuck, you taste incredible.” He growled.

This had to be some kind of dream of yours, some fantasy come to life as you stared blearily into the hungry look of the man in front of you. Now it was your turn to pull him in, pressing your lips to his, the metallic taste of your own blood on his tongue.

"I need to taste more of you." His touch roamed over you, fingers dipping under your clothes before he paused. "Can I?"

"Yes, god, yes.” You didn't have to wait long, helping him to push off your pants, flinging them to the side by the time his mouth was on you. Lips trailing across your inner thigh. If your head wasn’t swimming with desire, you would have felt a little embarrassed at how wet you had become since the researcher had fed from your wrist.

But Ford wasted no time, mouth warm and insistent, humming as you moaned, the vibrations making you tip your head back.

Though, you could tell his movements were careful, and you wondered whether he hesitated from not wanting to hurt you or from inexperience.

“Ford, please." Taking hold of his hand on your hip, you guided him. 

“Yes, yes! Like that.” He was a quick learner, slipping his fingers into your wet pussy, relieving the ache you had felt. 

Ford’s little pleased noises from your praise was setting you alight. His tongue glided through your folds, flicking up to your clit, his prominent nose adding extra stimulation as he ate you out.

“So good.” Your fingers once again ran through his hair, this time gripping as you reached your climax, whimpering as Ford lapped at your sensitive skin, savouring the taste of you.

There was a moment where you both caught your breath.

“Wow! That was amazing.” Ford looked dishevelled, a rare sight for you as he was usually so composed. Even when you had both been running from danger, he didn’t look like… this.

His face wasn’t the only part of him that was flushed, the ruddy colour dusted over the tips of his ears and over his chest. Tiny specks of blood littered his white shirt like freckles. Further down you could see the straining bulge in his pants, untouched. His pupils were blown, raking over you from head to toe in a way that made you feel conscious that you must also look a wreck. He felt warmer to the touch now and you filed that thought away for later analysis. That’s when you noticed that he wasn’t nearly as undressed as you are. That seemed unfair.

He said your name. “-I… It was, remarkable! But I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- are you, oh!”

Ford ceased to remember what he was trying to say as you kissed him, fingers quickly unbuttoning his shirt.

He helped you to push up onto the counter, shrugging his shirt off as he went, pulling more off of you as you nibbled at his ear and down his jawline.

“I need you.” Your touch went to his waist and he paused to unbuckle his pants. God, he had already left a wet spot on his boxers and you gasped into his mouth as you felt him. He was thicker than you had ever had before.

Ford leant onto the desk, gently pushing you backwards as he took up the space between your thighs. He pushed his cock against your slick folds, teasing you for a moment with the tip to watch you buck into his touch before he pushed himself all the way in. A guttural moan escaping from him as your pussy clenched around him.

His hands spread over the warm skin of your torso, pushing up your sweater which you discarded.

“Doing so well for me.” He rolled your nipples between his fingers as he continued his slow pace. You begged for him to use his mouth and when he did, it felt incredible, the barest hint of fangs along soft skin as he sucked at your tits. “Perfect.”

You whined, loud, clenching around his cock.

Ford let out a soft noise. It was familiar to you, like when he found something unexpected within his research, or you did something he found surprising. “You like that?” 

The smirk that was starting to form on his face was devastating. He could hear as your heartbeat thrummed once more into the rhythm that thrilled him, continuing to praise you.

“So perfect… So beautiful… Feel so good.”

But his newfound confidence started to crack as he started to get close, his grunts and groans becoming louder and more drawn out, lost in the feeling as you blissfully moved to a faster pace. Tugging at his hair once more to watch him keen.  

When two of Fords thick fingers reached down to circle your clit, you faltered.

“Please, please cum. Please, honey. N-need to, ah, need to feel it!”

Ford bit down just above your clavicle, brow resting against your shoulder as he devoured you once again. Your eyes were starting to roll back as you held onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into soft flesh, hearing him groan in response. Tightening around his cock, each thrust of his hips hitting that delicious spot within you. Tipping right on the edge, you didn’t want this to end, trembling as you felt Ford drag his tongue over the new bite.

“So beautiful and mine. All mine.” He groaned, looking at you slack jawed, chin shiny with spit and cum. “Mine.”  

The words went straight to your core and you came, back arching as you let the waves crash through you, bringing Ford over the edge by the rocking your hips. He held you close as you rode it out together, murmuring softly.

Although you had no idea what he said, head feeling fuzzy as he released you. You caught your breath and slid off of the counter, but your legs felt unsteady.

Ford called your name. “You alright?”

You wanted to reassure him, but you felt dead on your feet, head slumping against his chest.

He cursed under his breath. “Ah, I-I’m sorry! Sorry, there,” Ford quickly scooped you up, over his shoulder. “I’ve got you, darling.”

Post fic A/N: I had Ford as the narrator for most of it, cause I thought it was an interesting perspective, because even in his thoughts he's in denial ^^' so he's a little unrealiable on what his feelings to the reader are, so I thought people would be able to fill in the gaps where its obviously been a mutual pining situation! (disrupted by vampirism hahaha)

[pix-writes]

About Silco (relationship hcs and other thoughts)

I just need to get this out here - I love how multifaceted Silco as a character is and the different takes about him, he really is a morally grey antagonist and that in itself sets him up as meet food to feed on when it comes to fanfic, because you can twist him and his character any which way you want without warping his character ~too~ much! Which is amazing!

HOWEVER, I feel like there are some essential elements of Silco's character that is not talked of enough:

How he loves the ones closest to him (much more under cut)

Admittedly this list is rather short, and many have different takes on his role with jinx and how much did he actually manipulate her vs feeling genuinely parental to her (I tend to agree with the sentiment of him being more of a loving father, but I digress) and I find it vitally important to know how he would be in a possible romantic relationship!

Silco lets jinx physically hurt him in this scene^^^ and barely even flinches! (badass but somewhat concerning pain response there, trauma related?) he knows she is lacking in trust of him in this scene, but remains unflappably calm (despite inner concern/panic) and doesn't over explain himself or come up with excuses or lies, he simply tells her the truth (as he views it/believes it). He also doesn't stop her from hurting him with his eye injection by trying to push her away verbally or physically or even to restrain her movements very much, when he does touch her in this scene and many others, he does so lightly and fairly slowly most of the time too, giving jinx plenty of time to react or pull away if she wished. And as we know, silco entrusts her with his eye injections every day which even if used to help her feel useful and to keep watch on her every day, still requires immense trust, as it is vulnerable and intimate to apply something to someone's eye and silco seemed perfectly capable of doing the adminstration himself before meeting jinx. In fact he comes to rely on her for it in time.

(^^^ I mean, look at how even when he's trying to be firm and serious, he's still not ~too~ harsh or quick with his actions, Silco is obviously not used to affection, yet Jinx is often very close to him physically - if not emotionally - and Silco is evidently the most comfortable with Jinx being in his physical space compared with anyone else, even Sevika, who is his loyal right hand and someone he's known for a long time)

In short, I think based on this, that Silco would be very gentle with his partner, especially if they were in an official/committed realtionship. Perhaps, he may be rough at times in his words or actions; it would be different to how he treats Jinx, as she is his daughter and I feel he has residual grief/guilt over what happened to her mother, too, which makes him more suceptible to be lienient with Jinx in particular (on top of his accpeting nature of her, flaws n all). You're an adult and can take harshness or roughness on his part, especially when it comes to 'working out' frustrations 😏

Overall, though, Silco would be gentle with his partners - based on the evidence above - he may be scary, intimidating, withering to others, but with you - you see a softer, more unreserved version of him (as much as that can be said for Silco, as I feel he is a character who shuts himself away behind the walls he's built up for himself, so it's hard for him to get into a romantic relationship as I feel he's a character that isn't open to that, initially). He will be most receptive to your touch, like Jinx you may even be able to touch his neck (a place that has triggers for him, given his trauma), its less likely he will find your touch unwanted, in fact it soothes him. The times he's likely to ever pull away from your touch is when you're both being observed, as he would be careful about who he shows affection around, given his status, he is aware of how dangerous some people can be (yet he also has confidence that you are 1. well protected 2. it would take a severe lack of self preservation for anyone to attempt to harm the S/O of the Eye of Zaun).

He's not one to physically intimidate or be rough with his partners (at least not without their consent first), in fact he is to others, uncharacteristically soft with his S/O (not that they're likely to witness this, as he is his most unreserved and gentle behind closed doors). He will be teasing, joking and smile more around you, his world is often harsh and I think his partner will be one of his solaces in his life and this is in part why you are treated so affectionately by him <3

Even in his speech he would be much more receptive, encouraging and softer in comparison to how he interacts with most others. Praise is hard earned from this man but his partner can expect the most well considered praises and compliments that could ever come from Silco's mouth. The things he will say will leave you with a glowing ego for days or make you incredibly flustered! ;)

Silco is also a person who greatly values respect and loyalty, despite being a character who has been continually betrayed in trust in different and catastrophic ways, even reserving respect for Vander after his betrayal. You can also see this with those closest to him - Jinx and Sevika and how he treats them, and in turn how they treat him to some extent. So, Silco would deeply resepct and admire his romantic partner, he will value their opinions/what they say and do as well as be the most accepting of how they are as a person. Some of the qualities you dislike or think are deep flaws of yours? Yeah, they will be something he will likely most admire you for! He knows he has his own flaws, his own trauma and insecurities that he has transformed or wants to transform into strengths, I feel like Silco has had people see him as the monster, the freak well before his eye injury, shunned by most others; therefore these traits are things he can see beauty within, and as his partner you best know that he will want to see you transform, too. The dark/shadow parts of your self? He'll see it clearly and will love you all the same, in fact it's perhaps one of the first things that he notices that endears you to him.

[pix-writes]

Rationality (Part 1?)

Javier Peña fic

Tags: soulmate!au, people get soulmarks, angst, red string of fate, Javi's POV, less than 500 words --> short and not so sweet!

A/N: Hey, its been a while - I suddenly had the will to polish up something in my drafts, so here it is. Might continue it when I have more time on my hands <3

When the mark appeared two days after he had called off the wedding, he thought it must be some kind of cruel joke on the part of the universe. If such a thing could have a sense of sentience or humour. There were lots of religious theories, but they all sounded like bullshit to him. Something he had always rolled his eyes at in church when he was a kid, next to his parents with their matching soul marks. Although their love was something that inspired him, comforted him, he knew now that it wasn’t at all easy for them, even with a soulmate, it didn’t save them from pain or heartache in their lives…

In college he read a few articles were becoming rarer and that it might become a thing of the past eventually if the trend continued. Less and less people were finding their ‘soulmates’ and then he felt like maybe he could breathe. Good. Maybe this person, whoever they are will never find him, maybe they’d be better off for it. Becoming an agent for the DEA, he knew well that the world was unpredictable. Chaotic and horrible things happened every day, people were destroyed in some way or other in the battleground that is the drugs trade, both those who dealt in it and those that were innocent.

This wasn’t a world of fate and destined romances.

Still, Javier Peña felt the odd pang of guilt, remembering the time he had called his dad, who asked him out of the blue about his soul mark. Did he think he might meet the one who matched him? He bit down on the scoff, the sarcastic remark, but had brushed it off all the same and Chucho had sighed.

He remembered his mother, thinking of the framed photo, polished and placed on the living room bookshelf of his parents on their wedding day. Her smile wide as she held up the hand that had the mark to his.

“Sorry, pops.”

“You have a lot of love in you, mijo. Your mother was the same. I just want you to find that kind of happiness… would be good for you.”

Javier’s was on his thigh and he was thankful that most people didn’t notice it. Could just be a regular birthmark and not a soulmark. Even then he was careful not to let anybody see it. Some of the women he would take to bed would smile sadly at seeing it. For some of them it was the pain of knowing a similar, greater struggle. Vanessa had hers scratched over when her soulmate had died, and he wished that there was some way of getting rid of the pain it caused them through more than just fucking or working his ass off.

Rationally, he knew there wasn’t much more he could do.

[pix-writes]

So I've been seeing all of the classic penguin templates that @saradika has shared all over my dash which has been wonderful, the templates which you can find are here

Go check it out!

Here are a few templates I've been playing around with, one of them is a fic I've already got on my masterlist, the rest are all ones I'm writing currently/got an outline for (so some of the titles are placeholders!) :3 sometimes you can't decide on just one pic tho, so I've been making alternatives of the same ones haha and I used my Ao3 username for them: I thought it'd be good inspiration for myself, rather than make ones for fics that're already completed! ^^' But I will definitely save this for the future!

[pix-writes]

RISING TIDES: CHAPTER 2

Ezra x F!Reader | Ezra & Cee

AO3

RATING: Explicit (18+) | MDNI!

SUMMARY: Ezra & the reader are both past winners of the Hunger Games & must now find a path for themselves as victors and mentors. Ezra meets Cee for the first time.

warnings/tags: Canon-typical violence and topics, reader has backstory/a little description (kept to a minimum, but scroll on if that’s not your thing)

Word count: 2.2k

PREV | NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

Whilst he didn’t end up taking fishing as his official ‘talent’, Ezra went out every week or so when the weather was fine down to the lake behind his home, gear in tow. It was a small lake in a deciduous little valley, in which the Victor's village sat. A long, looping path through the surrounding woods connected the lake behind his home to the other gardens and around to the main gate: the only entrance to the village.

 He wondered, not for the first time, whether the fish were natural here. Their iridescent scales, which sparkled in the cold sunlight, could be created by the beauty of nature. Though, their hardiness through the seasons and large bodies seemed as out of place as the fine sand, found underneath the weathered pebbles on the oval-shaped shores of the lake itself.

 He didn't need to fish but swinging the line out into the water and reeling it in was good practice for his arm coordination. If he caught anything, he threw it back most days.

Though, today his pantry was looking a little bare, aside from the Katniss roots he’d pulled up the day before. He hadn’t been to the main square in a while.

 All the more reason to go out to cast his line.

 The sun, which had been high in the sky when he began, started to dip when he heard the rustling within the sparse forest brush.

 Before he knew it, he saw the flash of something metal fly towards him, heard the sickening impact of something on the ground.

 A body.

 He saw the flash of a body, blood pouring from the neck, a familiar flash of recognition in their face. No, it couldn’t be!

 Heart racing, he stood bolt upright, reflexively taking out the small knife he carried with him.

 “Come out.” His eyes darted around the treeline. “There’s no use in hiding.”  

 Ezra closed his fingers round his knife when he heard a click.

 A crossbow.

 A rare sight anywhere, even if people in the district did carry weapons - something illegal in the eyes of the Capitol – most were scared enough of using anything that weapon-like, opting for their trade tools should they need to use violence.

 For a slight creature, the girl held the heavy weapon with some expertise. "Don't."

 He dropped his knife, raising his arms up in surrender.  

 “You’re out a long way from home.” He glanced back down at what had been struck - a bird. An arrow sticking out of its feathers. Not a body…

 “Grooslings are hard to come by.” Was the short reply. They were certainly valuable, if you didn’t get caught for poaching.

 “I suppose if you’re this desperate, you must be from the bench?” The girl shifted her stance. Perturbed. Anxious. “Long time since, but I grew up there. What’s your name? I’m guessin’ I don’t have to give any introduction of m-”

 “-I know who you are… I-I'm not supposed to talk to you.”

 "I don't know what you've heard, girl, but whatever it is, has likely been extorted from the truth and therefore not in my favour."

 She shook her head. "No, you stole from my father and- I'm not saying any more. Not supposed to."

 The pieces started to fall together, could it be Lin's child here before him? The blonde hair and the nose could be the same but… he wasn't sure…

 Anger and disbelief rose up in his chest, what was Damon doing? Letting his daughter - a young girl - go so far in the woods alone, for by her skittish behaviour she must be alone.

 And certainly, he hadn't gotten over this childish grudge, not that he'd expected that, but it stung, nevertheless.

 "Please tell me your name." There was no answer. The crossbow didn't move. The girl kept her lips sealed as if speaking to him alone in the woods would break some sort of promise.

 Perhaps it would.

 If she was his relation, he thought, she's definitely inherited the family stubbornness.

  "Look, you can take your spoils, I have no reason or inclination to involve peacekeepers in my life. None of my business what others do in these woods. Here." He dropped his arm slowly and stooped to pick up some of the fish.

 "Have some of my catch - a peace offering, if you like, I used to know your parents, so – you’re welcome to come back here, should you need help with anything."

 But the crossbow didn't move, although her eyes flitted down to the wrapped fish often in silent deliberation. She took a step back from his extended hand.

 "Little bird," the words were soft, almost a whisper, "take it. It was otherwise being thrown back in, I have no need of it."

 "Bird?" She said with a frown.

 "Well I have to call you something." He huffed, throwing the offer gently onto the ground between them.

 "Your call."

 He hesitated to look at her once more, watching as she lowered the bow, shuffling from foot to foot, before packing up his gear. He heard rather than saw her quickly snatch up all the spoils and retreat.

 By the time he had finished she had already reached the wall surrounding the village, giving back a final glance before hopping over it.  

  That's what struck him now, when he looked at the girl walking towards the justice building. Her stride was the same steady, quick pace. The same limp blonde hair tucked behind the ears.

 Cee. So that was her name.

 Cee Riley’s complex, grim expression was plastered on the screens.

 The two years that had passed since their meeting in the woods had clearly not been kind to her. Her clothes - clearly relics of her mother’s - hung off of her thin frame, cheeks sallow, arms bruised. His stomach twisted into knots.

 He could hear every rustle, every chirp of the crickets hiding in the dry brush around the square, the blood pulsing in his own ears. His mouth was as dry as the time it had been himself looking up to the stage.

 She reached it now, stumbling slightly, her long skirt catching on the step.

 Ezra tried to catch District seven's escort's eye. Johanna caught him faster. The Capitol man straightened up quickly and graciously offered a hand to the 'young lady', delicately plucking the offensive thread free. He could see Joanna roll her eyes again and gave her a conspiratorial glance. This wasn't the first time they've had to do the capitol representatives jobs for them.

 "Her. I want her."

 There was no explanation, no turning of his head or a need to raise his voice above a whisper.

 Johanna merely shrugged. "Makes no difference to me."

 The train wasn't much of an improvement on the woods.

 At first, he had given Cee her space, easily recognising that the circumstances are a lot to take in, seeing her eyes shining with unshed tears at dinner. Best that she get all the crying done now, privately, before any other cameras or tributes could see her and think her weak.

 He'd tried the next morning to broker the subject of his mentorship, strategies and so forth, but when he opened his mouth she turned away, eventually getting up from the table and taking her plates to her room.

 He heaved a big sigh.

 The male tribute, a malnourished boy of 15, was already smart enough to ask to train and strategize separately from his other district contender. He had as good a chance at winning, if he gained some weight in the upcoming weeks and had some skills behind him, as any other non-career.

 So, he decided to go to her. He picked up pastries, fruit and crystal glasses of fresh orange juice from the dining car, ladling steaming hot chocolate into a couple of bowls for good measure, using his steady prosthetic to prop up the laden tray.

 To his relief she opened the door when he knocked, from the dark bags under her eyes and weary look she hadn't gotten any rest. Stepping in he could evidently see the mess smeared on the walls, one plate smashed to bits but piled neatly onto one of the bedside tables. He made a mental note to have a kind word with one of the attendants later.

"So, I didn't know if you'd be hungry or thirsty, but if you need more things to smash, too, go ahead." He indicated to the tray which he set down onto the bed.

 To his surprise she does sit to eat, picking at one of the pastries. He rambles on at her, trying to say things or ask questions that could draw her out, but she still remains a little withdrawn.

 She picks up one of the bowls and hesitates.

 Ezra picks up the other and sips from it, slowly. “Use two hands if you can. I only have the use of one.”

 She does, taking big gulps of the hot chocolate. A little colour returning to her face. “You don’t use the other arm for a lot, do you?”

 “No.”

 “My mother… she was a healer, my father said that people who lost limbs in the mill used to come to her.”

 “That’s right. I used to know her.”

 “She helped you.” It wasn’t a question, though he got the sense that perhaps she hadn’t known about it before.

 “Yes. Relied on her a lot, when I came back home.”  

 Cee curled into herself, drawing her legs up to her stomach, head resting on her knees. “I’m not going to see home again.”

 “And why’s that?”

 Cee glanced at him and if he hadn’t been pulled into the same depths of darkness, he would have flinched at the intensity in her eyes. “The odds aren’t in my favour.”

 “Now that simply isn’t true! Careers may, certainly, get an advantage, but surely us other district victors are testament to the fact that the odds aren’t always in their favour.” But Cee just held onto her legs tighter. “C’mon, Cee, you’re sharp you’ve got more chance of winning than those blockheads in one or two… what about Damon, what did he say to you about the games, before you left?”

 “He didn’t come to see me.”

 It took everything in him to not let his blood boil over. That’s not what she needed right now. He knew very well what type of visits she had likely received, if she had any. The one many of his district’s tributes, the impoverished, starving kids, the ones picked for feeding themselves and their family with tesserae, received – a last goodbye.

 Even her own father thought of her as good as dead the moment she had been reaped. No doubt getting high as a kite to forget about it all. Ezra, not for the first time, felt the pangs of his brother’s absence at the association and he wished he could curse them both…

 But… right now, she needed someone to be there for her, to listen, letting in the rage would do nothing but scare her off. He thought to what his partner would say to him in such a moment, allowing himself the thrill of that bittersweet anticipation of their reunion, mere hours away, to pass over him.

 “Listen - I’m not a good man, birdie, I fought for my life and I survived – and I’m sure you can gather, that I’m not just talking about the games here-”

 Cee was caught on his words, sitting up to look at him with wide eyes.

 “-It was self-preservation plain and simple, but that has to count for something…”

“You’re a survivor, I’ve seen it first-hand, you’re smart and brave, birdie – don’t deny it!” He said when he saw her open her mouth to say something.

 No-one else would have…” He paused, he had to be careful with what to say, even now, on the off chance anyone could be listening, “…gone into that part of the forest, bold as brass to do what you’ve done. The thing about careers? They rely on strength, brute force – they often underestimate the tributes that are evasive and have gone through hunger before. And, on top of that, you’re quick, you know your way round weapons, doubt I have to ask, but you know how to use an axe by now, right?” Cee nodded, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards.

 “...now, you’ve got options. Think about your strategy, which way you want to go - I can help you with that. I can help get you sponsors, but you’ll need to put a little trust in me and be honest. Be honest with me and what you want from this. If you don’t engage with the audience, there will be no advantage for me to give you. So, if you hide away now, that will essentially be giving up. And, giving up is harder than it looks, birdie, when you’ve survived for so long - I won’t be able to keep you alive if you go down that path. We’ve only got a short time to come up with our plan, so I need you to listen carefully to what I have to say. We clear?”

 “Clear.”

[pix-writes]

Hi Bee!

So I just fell down a rabbit hole of your making!

So you just reblogged a Hunger Games post (excellent and yes on all accounts) and then I clicked on one of the related posts at the bottom that was about Plutarch Heavensbee and the punch bowl (again yes) ... and I noticed that you mentioned you have an AU, so I get curious and click again and find your mood boards for it...

IT IS WITH EZRA?!

Plz I love this idea!

He is so perfect for it.

I'm already so emotional about it.

💚💚💚

Omg hazel, I saw your post late last night and was kicking my feet in joy!! 😄🤗 I've had such a busy week and felt bad I still haven't completed my next chapter yet so this came to me just at the right time for motivation! 💜💜💜

The hunger games is one of my all time favourites since I read it in high school and the idea suddenly came into my head of Ezra (my beloved) and being a victor. And since then my minds been FILLED with this au 😅 so I really need to get it out of my head at this point haha

I have a looooot in mind for Ezra! It's gonna be emotional for sure!

I'm hoping to get the next chapter out soonish tho! (I'm taking a night writing course & as a result have some ideas about how to plot it out properly: i'm usually a lot more chaotic/ by the seat of my pants in terms of planning usually, but I want to get this one right).

[pix-writes]

muhwahahhaha! yes!

I’m glad you enjoyed, and oh god, don’t get me started on all the things I would let Ezra do to me 😏 (absolutely feral for this guy specifically, he can do what he wants 🥵)

The Storm

The Storm

The Storm

Ezra x F!Reader | Ezra (Prospect 2018) x AFAB Reader

AO3

Rating: E | Explicit (MDNI) 

Tags/warnings: Porn without Plot, edgeplay, implied size kink & somnophilia, Ezra’s love of endearments and being an absolute tease. (Pre-movie)

Words: 1.3k

A/N: This was supposed to be a piece for kinktober, which was ages ago 😅 but my work has been insanely busy this year! I’ve had a lot to do for life in general too which has sapped time for writing away, but I’m making moves to tackle Rising Tides (my Ezra HG AU series!) next, and soon (fingers crossed)! This was going to be a longer fic, about 2-2.5k? but I kind of let go of it, thinking I needed to re-write the whole thing, but looking over what I’ve written, I kind of like it as it is, my goal was to write smutty scenes to get more comfortable with it - its not perfect by any means - but it put forth the feeling I was inspired to write/put across in the first place & feel that it acheives this without adding any more onto it, so I thought I’d post it. Though I wouldnt be opposed to making a continuation of this, perhaps… enjoy!

Keep reading

[pix-writes]

Knowing The Rules: 1. Don’t wander off alone

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: E (explicit, 18+ | MDNI)

Summary: Din and the reader stop on a remote jungle moon to capture a difficult bounty before returning to the ring world of Glavis, but end up having to suspend their mission when the reader comes across strange and potentially dangerous plants. (before the events of ep5 of TBOBF, no spoilers; this will be part of a series, but can be read as a stand-alone)

AO3 LINK

Words: 4.4k

Warnings & tags: sex pollen, and therefore dubcon (consent is given & the pollen doesn’t affect judgement that much, but if not you’re thing, scroll on!), smut, oral, overstimulation, aftercare, no use of y/n

A/N: this fic is just shameless smut, which turned out a lot more romantic than my first draft notes for it, so, enjoy!

Whilst you knew the mandalorian more closely than anyone else, it didn’t take a genius to know that he was heartbroken, not over his creed so much as by leaving his foundling. At that point you had been friends (though, wishing to be regarded more than that as the three of you had travelled across the galaxy together for so long), since Din had taken you in and saved you from the mundanity of your old job.

Now in Grogu’s absence, your burgeoning relationship with Din had time to flourish, once you had both realised that neither of you wanted another separation, it had only brought you together more strongly. The sadness of his absence was still there, though, bringing tears up into your eyes and you had resolved to make up for it in any small way, as Din had landed you on this remote jungle moon. He had come back with wildflowers for you once, after a long hunt, and you had gotten the idea to reciprocate, since there must be flowers among all this green, right?

And now you are here. Swinging by a foot, top folding over your waist. You had reached for a brilliant looking plant when you had stumbled over a root, rolling down the steep decline in the path you had seen Din descend earlier that day. Your body being -luckily- caught by the loops of vines prevented you from hitting the matted jungle floor. Your hands being ready to break your fall, had merely brushed the strange, bright flowering plants beneath causing their flowery heads to burst with spores. You sighed, hoping whatever it was, it didn’t stain.

Just as you awkwardly raised up your arms to your waist to feel for the vibroblade attached to your belt and release yourself, you heard familiar footsteps approach and flopped back down again with a groan.

You heard the soft call of your name, a question in the tone.

Glancing over from your upside-down vantage point you saw the shining armour of your mandalorian, a hand on his cocked hip as he looked down at you. “I see staying on the ship went well.”

“I never said I would stay on the ship.” You replied tactfully, feeling the blood rushing to your hands and head as you struggled to lean up once more.

“Need any help with that?”

“I just need my-”

“Oh, this?” Said Mando, brandishing your weapon, which had been discarded on the ground near his boot.

“Yes, you’ve had your fun!” He chuckled. “Get me down – please?”

“Since you ask so nicely-” Cutting carefully and with quick reflexes he was able to catch you, setting you on your feet within mere seconds. Dusting yourself of the forest debris, although some of the pollen seemed to be sticking to you. Time to see if your hired ship’s ‘fresher was any good, you supposed.

“I wanted to collect some flowers for you and lost my footing.” You pouted as you picked up the datapad that had crushed the bunch of flowers that you’d been collecting.

His hand squeezed your shoulder thumb rubbing over the fabric there. “Sweet girl” was all he said, the inflection giving you butterflies. You smiled inwardly as you realised you might’ve reduced him to speechlessness (once again). It was a sort-of running ‘game’ for you both, though Din constantly debated on the rules and what ‘counted’. (You still asserted you were in the lead.)

But then, Din uttered your name. “-I appreciate it, but this jungle is said to be dangerous, we don’t know what’s out here…” Nodding as you walked side by side, it was a minute or two before he spoke again.

“…Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah – why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re covered in all this plant, uh, stuff, and your heat signature is higher.”

“Am I?” Looking down, though, you saw the pollen, so fine that it wouldn’t come off, which in the light had a dazzling shimmer to it. You waved Din’s concern off. “It’s just hot in this place, tin can – I’m sure it's nothing.”

Din shook his head, halting you on your way back to the ship by stepping in front of you. “No, mesh’la. It’s high – you’re burning up.”

As he said it, pressing a gloved hand to your forehead you took notice of the sweat rolling down your back and arms and frowned. You didn’t feel too different than before.

“Do you think it could be a - an allergy? To the flowers, or something?” You wondered out loud, unsure of what he was anxious about.

“I… I just think I might have seen something like this before-” He said hesitatingly, already searching on your datapad for something. “-but I’m not sure…”

“Stars above, Din! Just tell me what you think it is!”

“It’s a sex drug.” Here he paused and you gulped. You supposed a bounty hunter lead you to knowing a lot about the criminal underground and its trades; but your thoughts lead down dirtier paths, and you felt the almost irrepressible urge to ask him whether he had ever taken it himself…

Din kept pressing on the datapad, pulling up more information. “It’s a plant substance, rare, but it causes the user to become… aroused in very small doses… I-I don’t know what the pollen –in its pure form- might do.”

Oh.

“Oh.” You stated simply. “…T-then, we should get back to the ship. Quickly.”

__

Once you returned Din rushed you into the small ‘fresher on the ship, turning the lever for the water on as soon as you stepped into the space. You were sure it was probably a comical sight to see you there dripping, fully clothed. Feeling a little self-conscious at the situation, you made a remark about looking like a drowned womp rat, to which there was no response. Instead, the mandalorian helped you to strip off your now damp clothes, the less-than-tepid water giving faint relief to your hot, feverish skin.

“Washing the stuff off should help right?” He said, the stressed rasp of his voice making you moan, the sound half escaping through your lips as you tried to stifle it.

“It feels a bit too late for that, Din.”

The heat underneath your skin made you feel awful. You swayed under the stream of water and he steadied you with a grip of his hand, which was bare and warm against your upper arm, your eyes dragged upwards and you could see even more skin, the rolled-up sleeve of his flight suit, the pauldron-less shoulder – when had he done that? You hadn’t heard him take it off, had you?

Your mind felt like it was falling through a jar of honey, in a way not too dissimilar to the feeling of being tipsy; still aware of what was happening though with a pleasant buzz of pleasure, which softened the edges of your anxiety.

“You ok?” Ever perceptive, your Mando, you thought, your heart picking up pace at his concern - making him even stiller than before at the change he had noticed in you.

“Um, a bit better.” I think you added to yourself, chuckling weakly at the absurdity of it all. “L-listen, Din, it’s too late to reverse this, but I’m lucid right now, just feel a little weird – so if, if this gets worse, you have my permission to-”

“-No.” He cut you off in his firm tone: the one that he used in deals, the one he used when he told you to stay in his sight.

“But if I can’t-” You tried to plead, stepping out of the ‘fresher unaided now, though hardly able to rip your gaze away from the muscles flexing in the arm that had left your side.

“That pollen has had an effect on you,” he said, still firm, final. “Like you just drank a whole jug of spotchka – I can’t trust you’re sober.”

You sighed at that, straightening your back as you hugged a towel round you. “I just feel like I’m tipsy, Din. Honest.”

You met where you thought his eyes were under the visor. “It’ll be ok if you do - if I can’t do it by myself - is what I wanted to say.”

Din paused, shoulders going down as he sighed, one hand reaching for your chin. He hummed, seeming to assent to your judgement after looking at you closely through his tilted helmet, though still uttered – “I don’t want to do anything to you whilst you’re in an altered state.”

“I know.” You said, heat returning to your face. Though, you weren’t quite sure if it was from the effects of the drug or from your own arousal-tinged bashfulness. “I trust you, though.”

He nodded stiffly. “I’ll be outside.”

You assented, though your heart plummeted at him leaving your space and locking the bedroom door behind him.

__

He felt awful and out of place resuming his usual tasks whilst the knowledge of what was happening behind the metal door to their sleeping quarters brought images into his mind, he couldn’t seem to shake off…

Relationships were a new thing to him entirely and whilst he wasn’t wholly inexperienced, he had never shared his life with someone like this before. Practical and caring as you always were, he knew that you understood why he still did not remove his helmet, knew why you had set a slow pace with becoming intimate with each other. He was still unable to recall you riding him on the pilot’s chair without blushing, or a fresh renewal of the spark he felt within him since he had met you on his strange quest.

He couldn’t help but think of what you must be doing, how he longed to see every part of you, leave his helmet off and taste you, kiss you like he knew you deserved and so desperately wished to do for you, to let go of any restraint he had on himself, to let go and lose himself in pleasure... But he couldn’t risk it, he reiterated to himself, however hollow and futile the mantra sounded to him now. There was no doubt that you had seen his face, when he had said goodbye to Grogu. His foundling. His family. Though he hadn’t dared to name it as that, that’s what he hopes you are…

He went through the monotonous actions of checking his bounty pucks, debated on whether to clean his already pristine blaster, did laundry and checked his calculations for hyperspace. Failing in distracting his mind and flustered by the day and his thoughts he removed the rest of his armour, deliberately taking his time to place them down carefully in a neat pile.

Upon finishing his checks in the cockpit, a shimmering caught his eye, looking down to where he had pulled up his sleeves, he saw faint streaks of the same pollen across his arms.

Feeling a jolt to his gut, he attempted to rub at one of the stains and felt the heat start to creep along his skin. “Fuck.”

His cock already half hard from his previous thoughts, rapidly started to strain against the fabric of his flight suit. He keened at the unwelcome stimulation it gave as he leant back against the pilot’s chair. It was then that he heard unmistakable sobs coming from below, causing a pit to form in his stomach. He didn’t want you to be in pain. Hearing you cry out again, he was on his feet without a moment to spare.

__

All you could focus on was the almost-painful sensation of arousal that zipped through your body, the feel of every nerve thrumming with need, adding to the frustration that your frantic fingers had done nothing to alleviate the feeling, before the door slid open.

The sight the bounty hunter was met with was almost too much to bear. Thighs slick with your own arousal, body flushed, writhing and panting on the bed, your blown pupils met that visor, looking directly into his eyes you called out his name plaintively.

“Mesh’la.” He breathed. “Do you want me to help you?”

“Yes!” You gasped, legs clenching around the hand trapped between them. “P-please, I can’t- it’s still- it hurts!”

He leant over you, one hand resting against your cheek and the other smoothing your hair back from your face.

“Ok – it’s alright, breathe mesh’la.” He soothed, already reaching down to press his palm where you wanted him most. “Relax for me.”

Parting your thighs for him he settled in-between, relishing every moan, groan and whimper you gave out as his fingers glided across your mound, brushing up against your clit. Reaching for him in desperation you guided his hand down to your entrance. "Please, Din - I'm ready - please-" Din plunged two of his fingers into your cunt with ease, the lewd sounds of it making you moan in chorus.

The sensations coursing through your body building at Din's touches, his fingers curling up to hit that spot within you. Your orgasm hit you quickly, coming with a gasp at the relief you found, both pleasurable and not nearly enough… Riding it out, you heard him ask you if it was better and you nodded. "Keep going, don't stop."

Though, you needn't have worried about him relenting, as Din didn't slow on stretching your weeping pussy with his fingers, leaning down to grab hold of you with his free hand, circling and pinching a nipple, making you whine and grab onto the front of his flight suit.

"Got affected by the pollen too…" he guided your hand down to his clothed erection. He moaned, a beautiful sound to your ears, as you ran your hand over it.

Din’s panting breaths and gasps were accentuated by the helmet, uttering your name reverently. “-Maker, you’re so hot, couldn't stop thinking what you must've been doing, to see you like this- can I?" He swore under his breath before continuing. “If we’re gonna do this, I need to turn off the lights – do you trust me?”

"Yes." You said, arching your hips into his touch before he pulled away. Plunged into darkness you could only make out his outline, seeing him reach his hands up you heard the rush of air as he lifted off his helmet and your breath was caught in your throat. Even with the pollen coursing through you, it was forgotten within that moment in your surprise. You tried to picture the brief glimpse you had gotten of his face before, trying to imagine what it must look like now as he returned to the bed.

Before you could say anything, his head dipped, tasting you with laps of his tongue and you keened when his mouth closed around your clit.

At first, he went still when your hand found his hair, before relaxing into the touch. You brushed his hair soothingly before lightly tugging at it and smiling at his reaction. The smirk was wiped off of your face as quickly as it arrived though, feeling his grunt of approval run through you and you returned to that consuming, focused desire to come, come, come…

Din was confident in what he could do and prided himself in being able to learn what you needed - but this was completely different. He was reserved, practically shy when things started getting heated between you. But that side of Din didn’t seem to exist now, and his loosening tongue was something conjured out of your fantasies.

“You taste good. So good.”  His hands came to hold your thighs open, pushing them up higher before practically burying his face in your wet pussy. You couldn’t help but wail at the pleasure of your second release, coming without much warning, babbling as Din spread his tongue over you, savouring the taste that he had long been deprived of.

The heat was still intense, you sat up tugging at his sleeve. “Off, please.”

Your eyes were now focusing in the dark, a crack of light coming from around the door and you could see Din's face shiny with your release and shivered. The flight suit was finally discarded, and you crawled over him placing your hips over his as he bucked up into you. He had been holding back a little bit you supposed you thought faintly; his skin was hot to the touch as well, affected similarly as you were. Free of barriers, you grinded against him, knees threatening to buckle as you succumbed to your desires. Again, Din was there to anchor you, helping you to rock against him.

“Tell me what you need, d’you need me to fuck you?” You could only whimper in response, and he let out a breathless chuckle. “Left you speechless, huh, how many points is that to me?”

“I- I’m s-still in the lead!” You said weakly, a smile twitching the corner of your mouth, as you knew that this response would egg on his competitive side and Maker, did you want to see more of it.

He grunted, hands digging a little harder into your hips looking like a vision underneath you, a sheen of sweat over his torso, hair falling back from his face and pupils blown. “Need you to use your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes! I want you to.” You cried and Din rolled you over onto your back, sliding his thick length into you. Soon the slapping of skin on skin fills your ears and you feel the heat rise to your face again, meeting his strong pace with thrusts of your own as he hits deeper and deeper…

You feel another orgasm approaching and you reflexively put a hand to your mouth, biting down on it to muffle how loud you’ve gotten, when it is roughly snatched away from its place. Din’s body blocks out the light coming from the door as his arms frame your sides, pinning down both of your wrists. His eyes meet yours and it is clear - even in this dark space - the intensity of his gaze.

“No, no - I want to hear all those pretty sounds.” Din grunts, his frame shuddering. “So close, mesh’la!”

Your hands grip his back, pulling him down enough so you could kiss down the length of his neck. “Need you, Cyare. Come for me.”

__

There’s no way of knowing how long it's been since you returned, nor how long you have been affected by the drug in your current state. There is only the two of you and your sweaty bodies pressed together. Finally, you are able to pull Din down pressing your lips to his, slowly, as he learns to copy your movements or to push his tongue into your mouth to slide across your own, before you hunger for that too and barely separate for breath as you indulge Din in the experience of kissing.

All the while he praised you, “So good for me… taking me so well…”

Tears start to form at the corners of your eyes, his cock twitching inside you again. You groaned at the tug of arousal the sensation brought, reaching out to hold onto anything and finding his arm. “Din, Din - it’s too much!”

He tensed. “Do you want me to-?”

You shook your head frantically, lacing your fingers with his. “I can’t, I can’t…” You don’t even know what you couldn't, at this point...

Din leaned his forehead to yours and cooed your name. “You can! I know you can, just one more - come for me again.”

He moved slowly as you writhed underneath him, moaning, mouth open and he felt you flutter around him. “There we go, sweet girl. Come on my cock mesh’la, let me-” Din swore again, voice hoarse as his hips stuttered, “let me fill you up!”

You came twice more, each release quickly succeeding the other, legs trembling and tightening around Din’s hips as he filled you, panting and whining into your neck.

Din gently rested against you; utterly spent you could feel the burning heat of the pollen no longer.

A minute might have passed before you rose to clean yourself up, with Din’s assistance. Both feeling the heady drug dissipating from your system as exhaustion was left in its wake, you flopped bonelessly back onto the bed.

A blanket was gently pulled up over you and you sighed a last breath in consciousness, Din rested next to you, an arm slung around your waist.

“Sleep ner kar’ta.”

—

The whirring of the ship is what broke your sleep, body aching as you rose sleepily, finding no-one beside you. The sounds were familiar, the humming suggesting that the hyperdrive had been engaged and you realised that you hadn’t asked Din about his bounty yesterday… well… you had had more pressing matters at hand…

Swinging your legs out of the bed with a groan, you figured now was as good a time as any to get up, you were awake, whatever time it was.

Padding into the ‘living space’ of the hull, you noticed the crate you used as a table held a bottle of water and some food bars, only slightly jostled from their original position by the jump into hyperspace. Din must have set these out some time ago, heart warming at the thought, though, you felt a little sad that he hadn’t woken you. Making quick work of the rations, you hunted down your supplies to make caff, which was made a little difficult when your fingers were shaking. Dammit! 

It was at this moment that Din made his presence known, clearing his throat. In the past, you may have dropped the mug in your hands, but at this point you were used to it, even if it was still alarming he could move in that armour so silently. You greeted him, bashful as you replayed the events of the other night, not looking round from what you were doing, though Din didn’t miss a thing and could see your hands trembling.

“Are you alright, are you feeling some after effects from the pollen?”

You huffed in amusement, taking a sip of too hot caff. “I think it’s not so much the pollen and more because you railed me so hard yesterday, tin can.”

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Din duck his head, if you could see inside that big helmet of his, you had a suspicion that you might’ve been able to see him blush.

“Anyway, how come we’re in hyperspace? What happened to the bounty?”

“I captured the quarry whilst you were asleep.” Din saw the shock on your face. Turning on your chronometer, you realised it was mid-afternoon. “You were pretty out of it this morning, and you needed your rest.”

You nodded in assent, face turning up to look at him as he hesitantly rested his gloved hands on your shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“My muscles ache, but other than that I have no complaints.”

“You… I didn’t go too far last night?”

“No! Of course not, Din. I know it wasn’t the best of circumstances,” That was an understatement, “but don’t worry, I enjoyed it.”

His voice was doubtful, strained. “You’re sure? I felt like I couldn’t stop and I-”

“-I’m okay, Din, you didn’t hurt me - look at me.” Anticipating his thought process, you brought your hands to the sides of his helmet and looked into the visor intently. “I enjoyed myself, kriff, I’d even do something similar again sometime- though, I’d never want to come into contact with that stuff again - if I can help it!” You added, wrinkling your nose.

“But… you enjoyed it?”

“Yes, Cyare, even with the flower pollen, I definitely do not regret it so - so I hope you don’t either?” You asked, swallowing hard.

He let out his breath, shoulders sagging. “I just worried about you, Cyare…” Before adding in a weightier tone that vibrated through you. “...But, no. I don’t.”

You rested your head into the crook of his neck and he hugged you to him. Pulling on the edge of his shirt to place a kiss to his neck your eyes widened at the dark bruise you found there. “Kriff! Did I do that?”

You felt Din nod. “Oh, I’m sorry!”

He chuckled at that. “I didn’t hate it, though, you do bite hard, mesh’la. I’ll have to be careful around you.”

He was teasing, but you still felt like sinking into the floor.

“I guess this is a good lesson, not to wander off on your own.”

You pouted. “I was trying to give you a romantic gesture!”

“You still went off the ship and got into trouble.” Though he said it with no malice, you had to concede he had a point. 

You sighed. “Okay, fine. No wandering alone in strange, unknown places.”

“C’mon, we should land in a little while.” He said, taking your hand to lead you to the cockpit.

Sitting down in the pilot’s chair, you were about to sit in your own seat when Din brought both hands to his helmet. As soon as the helmet hissed you brought your hands up to your face.

He said your name softly. “It’s fine, you can see.”

“But - your creed!”

“I know you already saw my face yesterday, ner kar’ta, and I want you to see.” You let your hands drop and your eyes flutter open.

In the light of the cockpit you could see the emotions more clearly on his face, than you ever could before, he was clearly nervous, but he met your gaze and your mind found relief in seeing him. This meant he didn’t regret what had happened, either, that he wanted this.

Din pulled you down to his lap, hands reaching around your thighs to scoot you closer and hold you there.

“The bounty can wait a little. Right now, I want to kiss you again.” He said in the deep, husky tone of his unmodulated voice.

You placed your hands back onto either side of his jaw, smiling. “Then do.”

________

[pix-writes]

Rising Tides: Chapter 1

Ezra x F!Reader 

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Ao3

Summary: Ezra and the reader are both past tributes for the Hunger Games. Now they must find a path for themselves as victors and mentors...

warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, canon-typical topics, reader has backstory| Taglist under cut

Ezra remembered that year’s Hunger Games well, although a tinge of shame washed over him at the recollection that, primarily, it was because the male tribute from his district had come 4th.

 But no-one would be able to forget that finale.

 Perhaps that’s one of the things the Capitol loved the most and therefore certainly shouldn’t be the thing to focus on the most, but it was hard to forget – a surprising ending. Well, for most who were watching it anyway, maybe not for himself, being the underdog so long meant that he could recognise someone with the same spark.

Or so he told himself, anyway.  

 It was a mountainous arena, with a winding cave on one side - both an excellent and a risky place to hide away in, depending on personal skill – a fair few of them ended up toppling over the higher places, instead, caught by flying mutts or bashed in by the career crew, caught because of their visibility or trying to keep warm with a fire.

 That wasn’t her, though, no, she holed up in the cave system, winding her way around, keeping out of sight, making an unlikely ally before everything, inevitably, went haywire. The closing days of the games always did. She and the other girl were trying to escape some wiry brute by climbing the walls across an underground waterfall when her ally fell to her death, into a cavern below.

 There were only six tributes left.

 The girl from District 6 escaped, taking her first kill in the male tribute who was waiting on the other side, but not without injury. The caves flooded, drawing out anyone hiding in there. Six got out of there and since the cameras had panned over to the boy from seven, he didn’t know what had happened but suddenly she had been running from career girl from District 1. She wanted to put on a big show, drag it out, thinking she was safe with some lowly girl from six. She could torture her a little, make a lot of open wounds before dealing the killing blow, and thus make her memorable victory the best game of cat and mouse that the Capitol would ever see! But six had struggled, put up a long, awkward fight across the bare ground that even Ezra thought no-one would be able to bear so well. He knew that people expected a District 1 victor that year. Though it turned out that hubris became the career’s downfall.

Six groped for her discarded weapon and slashed at her opponent and kept going until the other girl was still.

 Ezra recalled the dazed face at the end when she was announced the victor, looking back he doubted she knew where she was at that point. Just clinging on to life. His heart dropped in sympathy, unable to stem the flow of his own experience from flooding into his mind. The feeling of blood rushing in his ears, barely able to pick up what the announcement was saying before he was plucked up by hovercraft and put to sleep.

  He couldn’t remember much of the victory tour from that year, he showed up certainly, but had sloped off early - as was most non-career victors’ custom, from what he could gather, at these kinds of events; be there for the televised part, leave once it was done. It happened every year, halfway between one game starting and the other beginning, and at least in seven, they wanted to forget, rather than revel in the fresh memories of another person who had not made it back home.

 Nevertheless, that year in particular he was distracted, Lin had told him she was finally marrying Damon – a relation to the Twigg family, though they didn’t have much to do with one another. She had seemed happy, though, really happy, and so he had pressed his doubts down… and failed in doing so.

 “It’s not too late to back out, you know that, right?”

 “Ezra-” she admonished, light-hearted as she always seemed to be. “he is your cousin.”

 “A distant cousin and as you well know by now, I put no stock in being bound by blood for the sake of it.” He grumbled. “But if you are certain, then I wish you both happiness. Of course, I do. He needs to watch it, though. Being a wife to a guy in the Bench, it’s not the life you’ll be used to. Don’t let him mess you around, Lin.”

 “Of course, I won’t! Look, I don’t know what happened to make you both so sour, but come to the wedding, yeah? Reconcile?”

 He scoffed. “He won’t want me there.”

 “You need people, Ezra. I’ve seen the state you still live in; you can’t shut everyone out, it’s not good for you.”

 He wanted to plant his feet into the ground and be stubborn, say his part about how things were better than before, that it wasn’t that bad, but he managed to cut it short. Damon wouldn’t or couldn’t reconcile and, once the ceremony was over, she’d be too busy to bother with these futile pursuits to connect all of them as a ‘family’ anyway. It wasn’t gonna work.

 He shook his head gravely. “Listen, I’ll pay for anything you’d like, flowers, cake, your tailor’s bill. But I can’t come. It would come to blows between us, it’s for the best.”

 It was a few years ago now, but he didn’t hear anything bad. Perhaps they were happy. He had seen them at the hob a couple times. They seemed happy.

 You must have been school age when his games were on. Setting your mind to becoming a router, already mapping out your plan for a career, determined to get your place and help your parents. But it wasn’t hard to recall that Hunger Games. The boy from seven, lithe, a little less stocky – probably from being underfed, but still strong – carving his way through the career pack who had started to turn on him, dealing a blow to the back of the leg of the boy from District two and outrunning the rest. Though, not unscathed. His arm had been pierced by the same career.

The arena was a large swamp filled with poison gases released by some sort of ground plants and went off like geysers. Some of the murky ponds held humanoid looking mutts with scaled flesh. One of these mutts had come for the boy from seven, ripping into his already damaged arm.

 Though he continued to survive by eating tubers from the safer waters and climbing up the trees for safety and eventually allied with some other non-career tributes. The ones he had teamed up with had been caught by the careers, but not before one of them - the female from District 3 – had lit a match next to one of the poison plants and it exploded into a fiery mess, taking out two of the opposing tributes.

Ezra had then fought the remaining careers in the ensuing battle. It was night and the tributes could only see by the light of the fire now created in the arena. You remembered that cause the Capitol hosts had commented on it. He had chased and been chased by Inumon, the final career from four, she had dealt a blow to his gut, but Ezra was able to best her in the end by stabbing her. Her canon went off first and he had lost an arm as a result of the games.

 You recalled how it had made you shiver, watching the cornucopia bloodbath that year. Like everyone else, you had definitely thought about it before, if you were called to be a tribute at the reaping. But like a lot of children from your District, had some excuses up your sleeve as a veil of comfort for the ever-present fear: it couldn’t be you, there’s so many people to choose from, some get more tesserae than you, so you’ll be fine.

 Of course, you had never expected to find yourself in line at the Justice Building to sign up for tesserae in the first place. Not until your father had left, never to return. He had found someone knew amidst his addiction troubles. And you were left to help pick up the pieces and provide. You needed it now more than ever, as angry people turned up to get the money your father had borrowed from them. 

Then your mother had fallen ill when you were sixteen. Your pillar had tumbled.  

 Luckily, your smarts had won you a place of prominence and you were sent out to the Capitol along with one of your friends, Teel, to work in the Transfer, so on top of a wage your mom didn’t have to worry about getting a place: you both moved in with Teel’s family, and would sleep on the couch when you had to return to six, since the two of you were hardly there for most of the year. Money was tight, but you thought it would work. 

 Your eighteenth birthday came though, and you weren’t safe from the reaping like you had told yourself you would be. 

 But you survived it. Your stylist had said you were ‘lucky’ to have lived, that the doctors had thought they might’ve had a dead victor on their hands. She seemed thrilled to give you all of the chocolates and other fine things that someone-or-another from what’s-that-place had sent to their team to congratulate them and celebrate your victory.

 But aside from the people you knew in your District, not many people seemed thrilled that you had ‘won’ the Hunger Games that year. They had expected District 1, and the Capitol liked District 1. 

 And you were so focused on working, of keeping your head down and going unnoticed that you were at a loss of what to do now. You couldn’t work and the other victors were dropping themselves into a drugged stupor just like your father probably was, somewhere far away from the Victor’s Village if he was still alive.

 Lucky… Yes, that’s what you were.

Taglist: @grogusmum​ @ruhro7​ @magikfanatic​ @writeforfandoms​ @babydarkstar​ @chaoticgeminate​ @animejunki5​ @missmischeif​ @thirddeadlysin​

[pix-writes]

pix-writes Masterlist & blog info

SEE UNDER CUT FOR MASTERLIST

THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG so you will find 18+ themes/smutty posts or fanfic on here on occaison, so if you're under that age you have been warned and will be blocked if you interact.

IMPORTANT NOTICE: I do NOT consent to people publishing my fics elsewhere for free or for monetary gain or the use of AI on my fictional works posted here on Tumblr and AO3 in any way, including using AI to rework my fiction! This is an anti-ai blog and my fanfiction and original works are my intellectual property. THIS IS AN ANTI-AI BLOG (that includes use of character ai and using ai for prompts).

If you do want to send asks about certain stories or questions about characters and that sort of thing, then that is 1000% welcome! :D But I must say that I don't do traditional 'requests' as my work life balance is crazy at the best of times, so I feel guilty if I don't complete them on time - just so you know!

If You're looking for any asks check the tags #pixreplies #answeredasks or #askanswered | For my writing I'll tag them #pixwritesstuff or #mywriting

A masterlist for all of my works so far under cut! Check for upcoming fics and possible updates as well. Please help keep fandom & fanfiction going by reblogging and leaving comments on fics, not just mine, but anyone else here on tumblr, you don't know how much it helps with our fics not getting buried/for our motivation!

 Find my fanfics on: Ao3 

PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS:

Din Djarin:

Knowing The Rules (18+)

Ezra (prospect):

The Storm (18+)

Rising Tides (Series, 18+):  Prelude  | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 (WIP)

Drabble - untitled (x gn!reader)

Javier Peña:

For Tonight (kinktober ficlet, 18+)

Javi Gutiérrez

Tranqillity

Dieter Bravo:

Bubble Burst

Dave York:

Detached ( for writers’ iron chef by littleferal)

STAR WARS:

Fennec Shand: 

Relationship hcs (gn!reader)

GRAVITY FALLS:

Stanford Pines:

Vampire!Ford x f!reader (18+)

Professor!Ford x f!reader (TBD)

Ford & young reader with a crush (TBD)

Relationship hcs (gn!reader)

Cuddle HCs

Kink HCs (18+)

Finger HCs (SFW/NSFT)

Mirror sex HCs

Noises (NSFT, 18+)

Flaws in a relationship

Outside sex (18+)

In Theory and in Practice (18+)

Stanley Pines:

Mafia Au (x f!reader) TBD

Catalogues (x reader, 18+)

Relationship hcs (gn!reader)

Kink HCs (18+)

Noises (NSFT, 18+)

Flaws in a relationship

Teen runaway adopted by Stan

ARCANE:

Silco relationship HCs and character analysis

[pix-writes]

me reading smut as a long time fanfic reader: straight face

me writing any smut: 

[pix-writes]

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I just want to say thank you to all my followers/mutuals and anyone who has supported & interacted with my writing on here. I've undergone a lot of changes in 2022, focusing on making my social media curated to my tastes more & scaling it down, so I could focus on my writing and producing fanfic (even if I haven't wrote much & still relearning how to do it all!), as well as many personal life changes that I won't get into, but it really has been a year of growth & self discovery for me ❤️ I just want to thank and wish you all well, the fandoms I've been a part of (mostly Pedro Pascal 🤗😄) have all been lovely and so so welcoming 💜💜💜

[pix-writes]

100 followers celebration!

Thank you guys so much for following, I appreciate all the support, likes and reblogs and comments I have gotten so far on my writing & all the patience as I figure out how to develop my writing and how to run my fanfic blog! ❤️❤️❤️

I have to be honest I wasn't sure what I would or could do for followers celebrations on my blog, but seeing as I always need more excuses to actually sit down and write, I'm going to open my ask box & DMs for requests!

My asks will be open until the 9th July.

[pix-writes]

A drabble based on my tags on this post x

ezra (prospect) x reader (gn) | rating: mature

content/warnings: mentions of blood, panic, canon-typical violence, mild angst/fluff, established relationship

Tagging @babydarkstar for the space prospector yearning!

A/N: just a hc of mine for Ezra in general post-movie, but in this Ezra has his one arm & a right arm prosthetic that he mainly uses whilst working. (The prosthetic isn’t mentioned really, but its a plastic-looking arm with an immobile hand piece: I imagine it to be similar to the one adam driver’s character has in the logan lucky film, just for reference!)

You stopped Ezra by the way you grabbed his arm. He had sensed it too, the surrounding hills becoming almost unnaturally silent.

"Keep your finger on the trigger."

____

It had been messy and ever so close, one of the closest in your time working together - if you hadn't been prepared you would've surely been dead. Your whole body trembled as you stood there, remembering the way one of the men had pulled you down when your thrower jammed, and his knife an inch away from piercing skin before he was pulled back by your partner, the blood spraying over you as he made sure the mercenary wasn’t getting up again.

"Hey, hey - hey!" Ezra panted, startling you out of your shocked reverie. "It's alright, it’s over, starlight!" He was in front of you now and steadily reached a hand up to wipe off the blood on your face murmuring your name as you tried to calm your breathing. “It’s over.”

He unceremoniously wiped his hand on his ruined shirt before bringing it back to your face, swiping his thumb gently under your eye where that monster’s blood had spattered and where he was determined it should not remain.

Ezra’s words were short, neccessary, as the rage continued within his mind. That they should suffer more, that those mercs- no those ungraceful thugs, had tried to take you from this life, away from him - how close had you both come to losing everything? But, you had survived, you had both survived. As you should...

He tried to calm his swirling thoughts and he knew from your glance that you had picked up on his grave silence from the little worried frown beginning.

“You’re not hurt are you?!”

At your words he held you a little tighter, bringing his right arm behind you to hold you against his chest. He has survived alongside a divine being, who had the gall to be more concerned with his safety than their own, in this moment.

"Oh, darlin' you are more kind hearted than Kevva herself! I am uninjured, thanks to your quick thinking and your skill with that thrower - though, it might need lookin' over- it is no tarnish to your marksmanship!" Tempered by your following response, Ezra made an effort to effuse once more, helping you to step out and away from the carnage you had left.

___

Now it was you who was taciturn, as you decided to cut your losses and retreat to your ship with your goods for the day, thoughts and doubts catching up to you. You tried your best to shake it off but you knew your partner wasn't satisfied.

“Ok, five things you can see.” He said. It was something you'd done for each other previously.

“Baby, I’m not sure that’s re-” You started.

“Sight. Five things.” He interrupted firmly.

You stuttered out responses, picking things at random that you could see across the path you walked.

“Touch, 4 things.”

At that point he moved his hand to touch your cheek again and you started to smile. “Your hand." You laced your fingers with his, giving it a squeeze.

"Good, what else?" You quickly came up with the rest and then-

"Taste." Before you could even answer, Ezra leaned in to place a tender kiss on your lips.

You huffed in amusement. "You're such a sap, Ez."

But you pulled him in for another kiss, regardless.

[pix-writes]

Fics are on the way this week! 🤞🤞🤞

[pix-writes]

Off work for a few days: no inspiration, no motivation

starting work again? full ideas, acutal flow of writing - bam! 🙄

I don’t get this writing thing sometimes, honestly haha! Anyways, I might have a soon-to-be draft of the Javi fic I talked about last month. 😁