#it’s a miracle I finished any drawing at all

[iniini]

I redrew a thing then drew a bit more only a little bit though

#twisted wonderland #portfest #twst oc #ori blume #mallow cuniculus #im tired and I wanted to draw more but I just lost motivation #it’s a miracle I finished any drawing at all #im slowly reading through portfest let me tell you when neither of these guys can play any brass instruments #Ori can sing though and mallow is too much of an imtrovert to play in front of a crowd anyway #sooo their just in these clothes for fun #… it’s weird how more comfortable I am talking in tags (・⊥・) I

[lordsukunas]

piggyback rides

synop: you want trueform!sukuna to give you a piggyback ride and he doesn’t know what it is. that’s it.

tags: fluffy fluff fluff, fem!reader (referred as woman once, refers to self as ‘queen’ and ‘wife’ once), ooc sukuna (only bc he’s less of an asshole), possessive behavior (kind of?), mentions of sukuna-typical violence, likely historically inaccurate, not proofread. i couldn’t determine whether or not he was actually wearing a haori or something similar - correct me if i’m wrong n i’ll change it!

notes: basic ass title ik... erm sorry! another post in two days is a miracle so i’m a little proud of myself. half-assed ending lol... anyway, this is just a silly lil drabble!! any interaction is much appreciated, enjoyyyy! :3

“what.”

the first set of crimson eyes dart down to look at you, the other set still tracking the scuttling servants. you’re situated quite snugly in his expansive lap — two thick arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into the warmth of his bare chest. “what the hell is that?”

you nibble the inside of your cheek to suppress a smirk. finally, you know something that sukuna does not! and it only took three years. “it’s where i get on your back and you carry me around. quite simple, truthfully.”

he snorts at the slight condescension in your voice. for something so agitating, you have quite the ego. “mm. and why should i do that for you? you can walk on your own, unless your legs are mysteriously broken all of a sudden.”

“because,” you say with a huff, “it’s fun. don’t you want to bond with your queen?”

anxious eyes of passing maids sneak glances at you, your little huff drawing their attention. sukuna shifts you in his lap, turning you to the side, and the massive sleeve of his robe moves to obscure your form from their undeserving gaze. “we have bonded enough.”

“and it would not hurt to bond some more!” you counter. sukuna’s stubbornness is something you absolutely adore about him, but not right now. “can the mighty king of curses not spare a moment of his day to entertain his wife’s wish?”

he falls silent at this, and you can practically see the gears churning in his big head. he’ll cave. if there’s one thing that’s undeniable about the sorcerer, it’s his curiosity.

“... fine,” he grunts. after scooping you up and setting you down, he stands up and gestures with his hand. “so how do we do it?”

your lips curve up into a smirk. “okay, turn around so that your back is facing me.”

sukuna turns around, folding one pair of arms over his chest.

“then, crouch down a little.”

a beat passes, and then he crouches down, back muscles flexing underneath the dark fabric of his haori.

you step up behind him and slide your arms around his neck. his adam’s apple bobs, and the other arms move to cradle your butt. “if this is an attempt to choke me, it isn’t work.”

he always thinks someone’s out to get him. you roll your eyes. “no. if i wanted to kill you, i likely would’ve attempted forever ago.” you lift your lower half onto the lower part of his back, and your legs wrap around his hips.

another beat passes. “is that it?”

“yep.”

sukuna adjusts you, his hold on you becoming more secure as he rights himself to his full height. the warmth of your breath ghosts across his ear, and he can smell the scented lotion you applied this morning.

why hadn’t he done this before?

“soooooo,” you drawl, and he can hear the smile in your beautiful voice without even having to look. you’re so close — he hears the little inhale before you speak, the nearly imperceptible huff of laughter once you finish. “what are you just standing here for? we gotta walk around, explore the estate! it’s not fun if we’re just stuck in one place.”

“i am not a servant,” he warns, voice gruff, but he starts to move towards the throne room’s exit anyway. anyone unfortunate enough bows, mutters a jumbled greeting to the both of you, and scrambles out of the way.

it’s no secret that sukuna is more... benevolent, when you’re around. but that is a double-edged sword — if someone dares to disturb your peace or inconvenience you in his presence, they’d be facing a swift death, along with their parents for giving birth to such vermin.

“apologies, my spectacular husband.” you lean forward a bit and press a kiss onto his cheek, leaving a faint lipstick stain. “now, please, venture forth.”

he rolls his eyes. “if you command me again, woman, i am going to sprint.”

the teasing lilt quickly disappears from your voice, and your arms tighten around his neck. “n-no, that isn’t necessary.”

sukuna’s pace increases, now a brisk jog instead of a leisure walk, and you can hear the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “oh? is it not?”

“it isn’t!” you squeak. a little embarrassing, yes, but you know how fast sukuna is — you’re positive that if he broke out into a full-speed run, you’d be sick by the end of it.

“let’s find out and see.”

#﹒writing #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk sukuna #sukuna #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you

[signoferoda]

THAT 4AM CRY - HS

Summary: Harry’s daughter has a set routine when it comes to her night time feed

That 4am newborn cry is like clockwork, it happened every night for the past two weeks. It was amusing actually as Harry blinked his sleep away, the glow of the alarm clock making him chuckle, exactly on the dot.

Novies weak cries echoed through the room, not appreciating having to wait for her milk. Y/n adjusts beneath the covers, drawing Harry’s attention, she snuggled into the pillow, her mouth hung open. He could see the exhaustion even as she slept and it had him springing from the mattress, padding over to the bassinet that stood adjacent to their king bed.

“it’s alright lovie” Harry cooes, scooping Novie into his arms and cradling her to his chest making sure to support her head with his palm. He was a pro at it now; having had 3 babies already, he aced the dad hold. No longer scared about his touch being too strong.

“Daddy’s here” Harry’s voice was soft and gentle as he looked over his shoulder to y/n, making sure she’s still asleep. She was so Harry quickly left the room, gently closing the door with his foot as he headed downstairs and away from his sleeping wife and 3 sons. He couldn’t risk waking any of them up, he could handle a late night/early morning feed.

“Now don’t be mad at daddy, but you’ll have to take a bottle alright?” He spoke as he padded down the stairs softly, being extra careful with his steps. “I know you prefer it from the real thing but mummy deserves a little break don’t you think?” Listening to her fathers gentle voice, Novies cries softened and eventually came to an end. She cooed up at her dad, absolutely melting her old man’s heart. Harry couldn’t stop himself from pressing a gentle kiss to his baby girls forehead. He smiled, walking into the kitchen and flicking the lights on before heading to the fridge to grab the pre-pumped milk and popping it into the microwave.

Once it was done, he checked that the milk wasn’t too hot before walking to the lounge and plopping down onto the couch. He slowly fed the nipple into Novies mouth but she rejected it, crying a little making Harry sigh.

“Come on little love, I promise it’s mummy’s milk” he tried again but Novies chubby little hands tried her best to push the bottle away. “Novie bear, listen to daddy. Drink this and then you can have the boob in the morning. Deal? I really don’t want to have to wake up mummy hun, she’s real tired” his thumb circled her cheek, “come on lovie, drink up for me?”

By some miracle she did and Harry swore his baby was a genius who could already understand every word he spoke.

It took a while for Novie to finish drinking, but once she was done Harry was kick to burp her before he headed back upstairs. Novie passed out in his arms, her pouty lips smacking together in satisfaction. He kisses her chubby cheeks before placing her back in her bassinet and climbing into bed.

Although he was being quiet, he underestimated the beds movement as he climbed in and cringed into his pillow when he sees y/n stir, then open her eyes. Harry watches as she jolts up, looking over at the baby.

“I didn’t feed her” she whisper shouts, as she looked at the beaming red light of their alarm clock, it was nearly 5am.

He had to hold back a laugh at the way her boobs were spilling out of her tank top and the way her hair was all over the place, "I fed her love."

Y/ns eyes widen as she fixes her tank top, "she took a bottle?”

"Like a champ”

"You could’ve woken me up. I know she can get fussy”

“It’s all handled mama” Harry whispered, pulling y/n down towards him. He lays a soft kiss to her head. “Go back to sleep” it would take more convincing normally but y/n was beyond exhausted so it was all she needed to settle back down and cuddle into her husband.

#dad!harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #dad!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

[celestie0]

𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂 𝖿𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗈 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 | 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾 [𝟣𝟪 +]

𝖽𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾

ᰔ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (𝖿)

ᰔ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒. 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝗏𝖾𝗌.

ᰔ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌/𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌. 𝟣𝟪+, 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖽 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾, 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒, 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄, 𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗌𝗌-𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂

ᰔ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌. 𝟫𝟦𝟤 (𝗅𝗂𝗅 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾)

𝖺/𝗇. 𝗇𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗒 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂.

you and toji hardly have any moment to yourselves these days. by the time you’re finished cleaning up after dinner and toji’s done feeding megumi his dino chicken nuggets before eventually getting him to sleep, you’re both exhausted and can barely make it through the bedtime routine before falling limp onto your shared bed. it had been maybe longer than a week since you’ve both had any sort of intimacy, but tonight it seemed like the two of you had a little bit of energy to spare.

“mmmph…” you moan, hand gripping at the fabric of toji’s shirt. you were on top of him, lazily laying with your cheek pressed to his clothed chest, as he’s thrusting his hips up and fucking you agonizingly slowly with his strong hands grabbing at the flesh of your ass. he had your panties pulled to the side and silk nightgown bunched up over your hips. “love it…love it, toji…” you’re drawling, head tucked into the crook of his neck, his chin resting on top.

you feel his chest rumble with a noise. “yeah? really missed…fucking your tight little cunt, baby,” he’s groaning, giving you a firm pinch to the side of your hip that makes you gasp. you’re practically drooling on his chest, causing a damp spot on his shirt that’s soaking through to his skin. “wish i could just use you like this all day long. my little fuck doll.”

“mm you can...you can use me like this all day long,” you’re mumbling the permission, moving your hips to get some speed on toji’s thrusts but he draws his hand back and gives you a harsh slap to your ass.

“calm down. and i can’t, since you’re always so fuckin’ busy with megumi during the day,” he grumbles as he lifts your hips up so he’s almost entirely out of you, save for the tip, and then slowly pushes you back down onto him again. you’re almost crying.

“toji…cum in me. cum in me please,” you’re begging, grasping at his shirt until it’s wrinkled and ruined, trying to wiggle your hips free of his harsh grasp so you can bounce on him but he won’t budge.

“anytime i’m in you, it’s always ‘cum in me cum in me’ right away. when'd you get so impatient?” he starts to shallowly pump into you. “let me just fuck you for a damn minute,” he’s groaning, “needy little whore.”

you gasp, lifting your head up to look at him with narrowed eyes, and slap at his chest. “don’t call me that.” you hated when he called you a whore. slut was fine, but whore made your skin crawl.

his chest rumbles with a deep chuckle. “but isn’t that what you are? look at yourself, droolin’ all over me like a puppy. i’m hardly doing anything.”

you moan when he wraps his arms around your waist and starts to fuck upwards more decisively. “god, toji…d-doesn’t matter, mhh, i'm not a...whore.” you fall limp on top of him again, shamelessly doing no work at all in pursuit of your own pleasure as he lazily fucks you with no urgency.

“whatever you say, sweet thing,” he says and presses a kiss to the crown of your head when he hears you whimper. 

“t-toji…” you’re moaning, “will you give me another baby?” 

he lets out a confused huh? in-between his grunting and groaning as he pumps into you faster. “the fuck do you mean, ‘another baby’? the fact i’m fuckin’ you right now is a god given miracle considering that brat’s somehow sleeping through the night so far.” he slows down his pace again, making you squirm in his hold. “and yet you wanna have another one?”

you nod and look up at him from his chest. he looks down at you, his face strained from the pleasure but there’s a softness in his eyes. “mm…yea, i want more babies, toji.” you look at him with a helpless pout as you reach a hand up to cup his face. “put a baby in me. please?”

he’s groaning and you feel him twitch inside of you, his head falling back onto the pillow as his arms that were wrapped around your waist hold you to him even closer and he starts fucking up into you relentlessly. you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your moans and vaguely register the profanities falling from his mouth until he’s shaking underneath you and his thrusts turn sloppy when you feel his warm cum spilling into you. you gasp from each harsh jut of his hips, and then he’s coming down from the high and breathing heavily. your upper body rises with his chest from every deep breath he takes as you lay on him.

“fuck…” he says it like he’s surprised. “don’t ever beg for me to put a baby in you ever again, unless you’re looking to raise a damn village. i don’t have that kind of self control.”

you smile up at him and give him a kiss on his chin, noticing his stubble. “flip me over please, hafta keep your cum in me for a bit.”

“shhh” he’s hissing at you, his mind going insane at the thought, then flipping you over and pulling out of you. and then there’s a quiet & gentle knock at the door. you both widen your eyes at each other before toji’s hiding you underneath the sheets and pulling his pajama pants up just in time for when the door cracks open, megumi’s little arm stretched up to reach the door handle as he stands at the entrance with his stuffed animal clutched in his other arm.

“daddy, i frew up.”

-------

𝖺/𝗇. 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽! 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗒𝗉𝗈𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗅.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk toji #toji zenin #jjk smut #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #domestic fluff #drabble #toji fushigro x reader #anime #manga #husband toji

[azirafeast]

I am SO EXCITED for the 4th Annual #Azirafeast, The Feast Day of the Angel Aziraphale, an inclusive fandom event! It’s celebrated November 19th and is a made-up holiday that brings the community together, regardless of how a person participates in fandom.

On November 19th, everyone is welcome to celebrate the Feast Day of Aziraphale by drinking cocoa and wine, eating good food, reading, being stylish on their own terms, enjoying the company of friends and embracing the spirit of Aziraphale! Please share your pics on socials with #Azirafeast!

Creators are encouraged to show Aziraphale indulging in what makes him happy or why you love him (canon or fanon!) Create “Lore” for why Aziraphale has a feast day! What miracles throughout history has he performed? Creations can be dramatic, serious, sexy or silly!

All forms of creation are welcome: Draw, write, sing, act, sew, bake, cosplay or anything else! However YOU want to appreciate our favorite angel. All variations, versions and representations of Aziraphale are welcome on the feast of Aziraphale.

Anything tagged #Azirafeast or I will reblog, the same for Instagram and Twitter. I’ve had a permanent highlight on my Instagram for the last 3 years, and maintained this tumblr. Check out what others have made for previous years!

There is also an AO3 Collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Azirafeast

Anything added to it I will promote on my socials for #azirafeast.

I know I don’t have the biggest following, but the idea is that on the feast of Aziraphale even fans who don’t have a large social media presence will still be seen, still have their experiences noticed, and will feel part of a community that cares.

Folk can get stressed about creating by a “due date.” I encourage folk to post early if they want, and to keep posting after Nov 19 if they miss the day or don’t finish in time. Aziraphale procrastinated on preventing the apocalypse, you’re just embracing that energy!

And remember, you don’t have to “make” anything to participate. Eating cake and lying to your boss is a great way to celebrate! Confuse some customers, watch a nature documentary, get drunk, be kind to someone (Muriel) who is new but trying their best!

Just make sure to tag your contributions with either #azirafeast so we can celebrate with you! Please feel welcome to take my words and reshare anyway that you like, and make your own posts to generate awareness! Please do share in any fandom communities you’re a part of, or feel free to try to convince people IRL this is totally a real holiday.

I do not run, own, control or anything of the sort in regards to #azirafeast. The idea came from Cliopadra and a private discord server, and the brilliant folk there picked the date and ran with it. I encourage folk to participate because I think it’s a lovely idea! It is NOT “mine.”

#azirafeast #feast of aziraphale #good omens #the feast of aziraphale #Azirafeast2023 #Azirafeast announcement

[bluebeary-jay]

Reason

(Joel Miller x Reader)

Summary: things go wrong when you try to cross a small city. joel almost gets himself killed and you finally confront him about why he never seems to trust you with anything

Tags: angst and fluff, probably a little ooc, a bit of humor, love confession

Warnings: mentions of violence and wounds (but nothing very graphic), age gap, swearing

Word count: 3.8K

A/N: this is my first fic ever published so i'm kinda nervous but i couldn't stop thinking about this guy. english is not my first language so excuse any mistakes. hope you enjoy <3

Joel was acting like nothing was wrong.

Which wasn't exactly anything new, really. Ever since you knew the man, he always had this rough exterior, that ‘do not fuck with me’ aura around him, and was never, ever, one for showing emotions.

Back in the QZ, when he and Tess sometimes let you hang along with them to get a job done or sneak into the restricted territory, you saw how he burst, pent-up and concealed emotions spilling out of him at long last when something went horribly wrong. He had never aimed his yells at you, though, even when it was clearly your fault that someone noticed you or you fucked up your part of the job.

Just like today. You weren't exactly to blame this time – something heavy fell over around the corner of the building you were sneaking by, and the thug looking for you three spotted you as you were ducking behind a car. Shit like that often happened when you had to work in the ruins of the old world.

Then you got separated from Ellie and Joel when the gang shot at you. All of you saw before that the street was blocked and you were practically surrounded. You barked at the pair to get out of here and that you’ll join them later, and ran in the direction of the ravaged stores, hoping to find a way around the blockade.

You remembered bullets firing at you and missing your head by centimeters. You remembered shooting and killing some of the guys chasing you, then screaming when you bumped into one of them and they grabbed you. The kicks to your stomach, the struggle, some nasty comments made by the thugs before you managed to stab one of them through the cheek. You remembered faces contorted in fury and a man lifting a gun to your head.

In that brief moment, you were glad it was you who was about to die. Better you than–

The man who was about to shoot you dropped his pistol after a loud bang pierced the air and he fell to the ground, dead. Others were soon to follow, too slow in drawing their own guns. It was Joel, of course, all bloodied and livid, blasting a head after head of the guys who were trying to hurt you. You were pinned face down to the floor and couldn’t do anything but watch as he fought them with only his knife and bare hands, as the corridor he was in was too narrow to make use of the gun without it catching on a wall or his clothes. You struggled and tried to break free, unable to bear the sight of the men’s blood mixing with his own from the growing number of cuts on his skin.

The thug holding you down apparently decided to finish you off, but didn’t have a chance before Joel tackled him to the ground, receiving another long gash below his ribs. For one terrifying moment you were sure he was stabbed in the chest and your whole world stopped. But the grunts and curses coming from the spot where Joel was knocked down on the ground quickly told you that he was fine.

You saved Joel just in time, driving a sharp shard of metal into his attacker's neck. After that the older man quickly looked you over, asking if you were hurt, and when you told him no, he grabbed your arm and led you to where Ellie was waiting.

All of you managed to get out and it didn’t seem like the gang was following you anymore. Excluding a couple of cuts and scrapes you all were fine and alive, which had to be a goddamn miracle.

That didn’t mean you weren’t absolutely furious.

Joel knew it and you suspected that’s why he was so insistent about walking in total silence, sending you and Ellie angry glares every time either of you opened your mouth. You were shooting daggers at his back as he walked in the front and even Ellie had to sense the tense atmosphere, for she was unusually quiet.

You knew Joel Miller was a protector at heart. That, among other things, was what made you care for him more than anyone else in your life, more than you’d care for a companion or even a friend. His caring, gentle nature hidden from the world under the rough exterior was what ultimately made you fall for him.

But no matter how attractive and admirable you found him, it drove you up the fucking wall that he never listened to you, never let you do anything even slightly risky or dangerous, like he always expected you to mess up. He didn’t even want you to sneak outside the QZ with him and Tess, and it was the other woman who finally convinced him.

You hated the thought that he might see you as a daughter, or worse - a burden. But the age gap between you two seemed bigger and bigger every time he did something like that, going after you because he didn’t trust you to get the job done.

And you hated it.

Only when the place you’ll spend the night in was picked and Joel took off his backpack with a wince of pain, you marched over to him and shoved his chest in frustration. Even though he was tired and hurt, he still towered over you and was much heavier, which made taking your anger out on him extremely difficult.

“The hell you're doing?” he asked incredulously, looking almost surprised at the fury painting your face.

“Don’t you ever think about doing something like that again, Joel!” you yelled at him, knowing you’re too far for any unwanted ears to hear you screaming. “I fucking told you to take Ellie and run! Why the hell did you come back?!”

“You’d prefer me to leave you behind and let those bastards do whatever sick things they wanted to do? A ‘thank you’ would be nice.”

Okay, now you were seething. You clenched your jaw and pushed him again, feeling honestly so fed up with his bullshit.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?! You almost fucking died, not to mention you put Ellie in danger, too!”

“Hey, I was safe!” Ellie chimed in, straightening from the place she was sitting in on her sleeping bag. “And there wasn’t actually–”

“Ellie,” Joel cut her short harshly, making it clear it’s not the time for her usual sarcasm. She rolled her eyes and muttered something about grumpy old men, turning their back to them.

You huffed and turned around, going deeper into the woods. Joel said your name but when you didn’t react he went after you with long strides, grabbing your arm and halting you.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?”

“You know damn well what’s going on!” You yanked your arm out of his grasp. “I told you to go and you didn’t listen, like always, and probably had to hack your way through the whole group of these idiots just to almost get yourself killed because of me!”

“Did you really expect me to leave you behind?” he asked with his voice raised.

“Yes! At that moment it wasn’t about me, I was thinking about Ellie and you! She’s way more important than I am! You’re more important!”

“Don’t you dare say somethin–”

“Do you think I’d be able to take Ellie across the country without getting any of us killed?!” You threw your hand to the side, huffing with anger. “I don’t have your skills and experience. You’re the only one able to handle it on your own, so if any of us is to die, it will be me, no questions asked.”

“Like hell it’ll be you!” He was seething now, too, and he came up to you in two long, angry strides, stopping just before he could stomp on your shoes. Suddenly you two were so close that you could feel his breath on your face. “I am not fucking letting you get yourself killed! Not now and not ever.”

“Can’t you just think logically for a second?!” you shouted in his face, tears of rage and helplessness gathering in your eyes. “I’m a goddamn burden to you both! Yes, it was me who alerted them of our presence and I understand that’s probably why you never trusted me…” Actually saying those words out loud was more painful than you anticipated and you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “It’s just, I can’t fight like you can, I’m not as valuable as Ellie, I…”

You had to press your lips together not to sob accidentally. Although you knew you had to make your point across, you still didn’t want Joel to see how weak you actually are.

“But I’m not fucking useless, understand?” you said sternly, looking him dead in the eyes. “I am gonna help you both go as far as possible, but if we’re ever in that kind of situation again, you’re leaving me behind and I’m buying you and Ellie as much time as I can.”

His expression hardened and he started to shake his head, but you beat him to it.

“I know you never wanted me to go on any missions with you, but just once let me be useful, alright? Even if all I can do is buy you a couple of precious minutes.”

“By letting yourself die.”

He said it with such finality and disbelief, all your anger got swept off and replaced by weariness. You sighed heavily and leaned against a tree.

“Yes, Joel. I know you’d rather not lose anyone else, but if I have a chance to help those I care about…” You realized you said too much and shook your head. “I don’t understand why it is such a big deal for you.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. His warm brown eyes were on you and for the first time ever you wished he'd look away. You turned your head and sighed again.

God, you were so very tired.

“I’m going to look for some firewood. You go check if the place is safe, alright?”

“No, listen–”

“Just this once, Joel,” you cut him off, not turning around. The tears that have gathered in your eyes before were threatening to spill down your cheeks and you weren’t going to show him how much this situation has pained you. “Just this once, drop it. Please.”

This time he didn’t stop you when you wandered further away from the camp and you truthfully didn’t know if it was better or worse.

*****

The rest of the evening went by mostly in silence. Ellie tried to lighten up the mood by reading some bad jokes from her book and though Joel was his usual grumpy self, it actually helped you a little. The girl seemed pretty proud of herself about making you crack a smile, but her efforts to bring Joel into the conversation came to naught. The smile disappeared from your face every time your eyes met and he looked away.

He almost didn’t say a word throughout your meal and preparing for bed, only muttering something under his breath when Ellie told you both goodnight. You were so tired that you managed to fall asleep almost immediately despite the worry and sadness gnawing at you when your thoughts drifted to the man laying on the opposite side of the fire.

When you opened your eyes again, the dawn was only just breaking. The air was cold and crisp, and you groaned, shivering and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, only to realize something else was draped over your form.

You rubbed your eyes and noticed the familiar green jacket covering your torso. Its owner was a couple of feet away, sitting with his back to you on a big log. The rifle lay next to him, propped up against the fallen tree. Your shoulders slumped at the sight of him and you remembered your argument from last night. You almost laid back down, but ignoring his act of kindness felt wrong, so with a quiet sigh you stood up, making your way to where he was sitting.

Joel glanced to the side when you approached and his gaze was instantly drawn to his jacket you wrapped around yourself.

“You were shivering,” he muttered, apparently knowing what you were about to ask. He said it as if giving you his jacket was the most sensible thing to do in a situation like that.

Was that an attempt to say he’s sorry for how he reacted earlier? You decided not to question his intentions too much and instead sat down next to him, nailing your eyes on the patch of recently disturbed ground.

“Thanks,” you replied under your breath, still not looking at the man. “But you didn’t have to. You’re probably cold now.”

“M’not.”

Liar. Stubborn as always.

None of you said anything else for a long time. You contemplated whether you should just go back to your sleeping bag and leave his jacket on the log, or stay and try to defuse the tension between you two. Somehow neither of these options appealed to you but it was so difficult to just sit here in silence and–

“I’ve been thinkin' about what you said,” Joel spoke up suddenly and very quietly, which interrupted your dwelling. “And I couldn’t stop remembering how damn sure you sounded when you said I don’t trust you.”

A wave of uneasiness washed over you and you wrapped his jacket tighter around yourself. “It’s okay that you don’t,” you said slowly, not really sure what he was getting at. “I mean, I’m not sure if even I would trust my–”

“That’s the thing,” he interrupted you with an irritated sigh and turned his head to look at you with his brows furrowed. “I do trust you. I just have no clue how…” Another sigh. “How I could’ve fucked up so badly that you’d think that.”

You blinked several times, not sure if you weren’t still dreaming after all. It kind of felt like a dream when he was sitting so close to you, his jacket around your shoulders and a rising sun painting his hair in a golden light.

“But you never let me do anything important or dangerous on my own,” you contradicted quietly, which caused Joel to drop his head loosely and close his eyes. “You’re always against taking me with you anywhere, and–”

“That’s because you’re important to me!” he cut you off, evidently louder than he intended, because he immediately glanced at you and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just hard for me to understand how… how did…”

Joel seemed at a loss for words and you longed to touch him, to take the burden of carrying the conversation from his shoulders and ease the weariness on his face, but you weren't really sure what he intended to say. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it almost sounded like…

“I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he said softly at last and you could pinpoint the exact moment you stopped breathing. Joel’s eyes were closed and he was propping his forehead on his hand, and he looked so… sad. “That’s why I never wanted you to take any risk, because if something happened to you and I weren’t there to protect you…”

He swallowed heavily, inhaled, then straightened up and looked over at you. The look he gave you was so tender and open, it was almost difficult to focus on his words.

“I care about you, too,” he whispered, and you remembered what slipped out of your mouth when you were arguing earlier. “A lot. Much more than I should, but I can’t… I can’t help it.” He turned to look forward, his eyes narrowing from the sunlight creeping from between the trees, and he looked so beautiful in that moment, you wished you had a camera on hand.

“Joel,” you breathed, but he shook his head.

“I didn’t want to make shit weird between… us.” He waved his hand in a vague gesture. “So don’t feel pressured into sayin’ anything. Just don’t expect me to idly stand by while you’re risking your life because–”

“Joel,” you repeated, louder this time, which finally made him shut up.

“What?”

You didn’t really know what you were going to say. You just wanted him to stop talking because he was only torturing himself with this ramble and you couldn’t bear it.

Very slowly, and very gently, you took Joel’s hand in your own and moved it over to your lap. Ignoring his eyes on you, you traced the length of his calloused fingers and brushed the center of the palm where a cut from a couple of days ago was still healing. Your heart was beating so damn loud in your ears, you wouldn’t hear if a parade of clickers just walked past you both, but with all your might you tried to keep your breathing steady and your face from going beet red.

He said you were important to him. That he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. He didn’t see you as a burden as you feared, so maybe… maybe he didn’t view you as a kid, as well.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you laced your fingers together and brought them to your lips, leaving a small kiss on his bloodied knuckles. Joel tensed in a split second and you weren't sure if he was still breathing, but you didn’t look at him in fear that his expression may take away the remnants of your temporary courage.

“If I misread you, this is gonna be painfully awkward,” you mumbled in a feeble attempt to defuse the tension in the air, so thick it was almost choking you. “But I’m still grateful you told me all thi–”

His other hand – the same hand he was ready to kill and protect with, with which he was ready to tear his way through the mass of enemies just to save you – lifted itself to your face and cupped your cheek. Joel was looking at you with wonder, the fingers you cradled in your own twitching slightly as if he was holding back from tightening his hold. His eyes seemed like they were made out of liquid gold in the light of the morning sun and he looked at you with such adoration that you once again humored the thought that it was just all some cruel, vivid dream.

But no, it couldn’t have been. Not when Joel’s skin was so cold against your burning face and not when his eyes flickered to your lips…

It was you who leaned in first, but once your lips touched, Joel took the reins, untangling his fingers from yours to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer.

You expected him to be rough and confident, just like he was during a fight, to take what he wanted and devour you – at least that’s how you always imagined kissing him would be like. What you didn’t expect, however, was a trembling sigh that escaped him when you two parted for a moment to take a breath and a gentle touch of his fingertips along your jaw. His hold on your body was by turns firmer and more loose, like he was afraid he’d scare you off if he let himself use too much strength.

You, on the other hand, had no reservations in taking his face in your hands firmly and parting your lips, encouraging him to go on. It seemed to work at first, because Joel pulled you in even closer, letting you crawl onto his lap, but then he stopped abruptly and moved you gently away, still keeping his hands on both sides of your face.

“Darlin’, I need to know if you’re sure about this, because I won’t be able to…”

You pressed your lips to his again, this time much slower and more delicate, in an attempt to silence him. Joel finally relaxed when you cupped his face and planted a kiss on his brow, always so furrowed in concern and worry.

“Joel, I wanted you to kiss me for the whole time I knew you. I really, really care about your bullheaded skull.” You looked down at him with a playful smile, to which he chuckled. “Though you’re shit at sending signals. I was sure you hated me.”

“Well, you are hard to deal with sometimes,” he mused in a teasing tone and you jabbed him in the stomach before he managed to grab your wrist. “But I… I'm sorry that I made you feel this way. Like you didn’t matter to me.”

You furrowed your brows at the uncharacteristic vulnerability and sadness in his voice and your worry must’ve etched itself in your eyes because when Joel looked at you, he turned away and closed his eyes immediately.

“Listen, you know now you matter to me more than anyone else in this cursed world. I don’t want to ever be as worried sick about you like I was yesterday,” he whispered. You brushed some hair off his face and the creases on his forehead softened a little. “And I don’t ever want you to think you’re not important. You’re… fuck, you’re the goddamn reason I’m doing all this. You're my reason, you hear me?”

You just nodded with a wide smile that threatened to split your face in half.

“I understand,” you answered, just as quietly. “You’re also the reason I’m doing all of this for.”

This time it was unclear who initiated the kiss. Nevertheless, you ended up held tightly in his arms, marveling at his touch on your skin and the feeling of his chapped lips on yours, and there wasn’t any other place you wished to be in.

It lasted just a couple of seconds though, because you were interrupted by the sound of fake barfing and gurgles of disgust coming from the direction of your camp.

“Gross!” yelled Ellie loudly, but she had a shit-eating grin on her face when she squinted at Joel holding you in his lap. “Don’t suck faces when there are children present!”

“Shut up!” Joel yelled back, but without any bite in his tone. A soft smile played on his lips when he looked back at you. “She’ll be insufferable now,” he murmured and you snorted at how done he sounded. He mirrored your expression and held your hand to his face to kiss your fingers tenderly, which made Ellie gag even louder.

“If you start making out in front of me, I won’t hesitate to throw a fucking sandwich at you!”

“She won’t,” muttered Joel, not even turning to the teen before he leaned in and kissed you slowly again.

You smiled into the kiss, barely noticing stale pieces of bread flying over Joel’s shoulder.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou hbo #joel tlou #joel miller #featuring our badass queen #ellie williams #the last of us fic #joel miller x y/n #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #beary writes

[suggs444]

Bad For Buisness, Part 2: William Afton/Steve Raglan x Reader.

Synopsis: Bad for buisness part two. You get bored of William’s lack of appreciation and attention toward you. You get reckless. William doesn’t like that.

TW: swearing, sexual tension, f1ngering, degrading.

authors note: loved writing this! some of william’s dialogue is from a Tarantino movie. it fitted the scene and i think it fits his character too. <33 anyways pls enjoy, i’m open for any feedback & requests !

Gif by brotherdusk

…

Being William’s coworker had it’s perks when it mattered. The secret of your sexual benefits between one another only made the job bearable. More exciting. Needless to say it was becoming more than just the intimacy, for you anyway. You thought about him more than you should. You wonder if he felt the same.

He’s a closed man. Sharp and abrupt. A man who is straight to the point and knows what he wants. Takes what he wants. Nothing goes by in the office without William’s say so. You liked that. You weren’t just fucking some guy. You were fucking the boss. Your boss. You had wondered whether he was just using you for his benefit but you quickly realised that you didn’t care. Anything from William is everything. You learnt to enjoy the scraps of attention. But god, you wanted more.

..

Your head was buried in your desk. Papers and folders relentlessly invading your space. A mess. You huff.

A tsk draws your attention upward.

It’s William. Standing over you on the other side of your desk. He’s holding a steamy mug of coffee. Probably black, no sugars. Just how he liked it.

“You know, they say the tidiness of your work space reflects your mental state.” He drawls, his tone more nasal than ever. Cockier than usual too. He always enjoys demeaning people, even you. And frankly? You like it.

But today?

You’re not in the mood.

You glare at him. This is the first time he’s spoken to you properly in days. And that is what he has to say? A prod. A tease. Such pointless information. You grind your teeth to bite back anything harsh.

Any ounce of humor slips from William’s expression as he sees you’re not reciprocating the same energy he is. You weren’t responding. Only glaring.

“Thank you for that, sir. I feel so enlightened, sir.” You bite, your tone sharp and stern. Almost as if you spoke the words through bared teeth. Irritation always gets the better of you. This felt like injustice. You’re always so good for him. Making him coffee, tending to his needs - keeping his secrets. And this is what you get?

“Though if that’s true then it’s a fucking miracle how your desk stays so tidy,” You spit, and then pause to take a breath.

“-sir.” You finish, offering a false smile.

William, shocked, stares.

His silence slowly worry’s you. You can almost feel yourself sinking from the instant guilt. He sees it plastered all over your expression. He only locks his jaw, peering sternly as he leans over your desk to you.

Dread consumes you. Regret. You gulp.

He leans right over your desk. His face inches from your own.

“My office.” Is all he says.

“Now.”

Shit.

..

You lead the way, entering his office first. He closes the door behind you as he steps in.

“Sir, I-”

“Plant yourself on that desk.” He interrupts, pointing at his desk. His expression is cold. His tone isn’t any better.

You look behind you at his desk. It was tidy. You look back at him just as fast in protest,

“Mister Afton-”

“I said plant yourself. Plants don’t talk.”

You pull a face of regret as you back up, not wanting to make him ask again. Wearily hoisting yourself up to sit on the desk. You press your legs together, tight.

He stands there for a moment. A hand on his hip and the other bringing his cup to his lips to take a gulp of hot coffee. The drink steams up his glasses for a second. You bite down hard on your lip to prevent a smile.

He notices and sighs, putting his mug down and taking off his glasses.

“Tell me, y/n,” He begins, pausing for a second as he takes his purple tie, using it to wipe the steam from his glasses.

“-why you think it’s appropriate to talk to your superior like that?”

He puts his glasses back on, scrunching his nose to push them up properly.

You gaze at him.

He cocks his head to the side, impatient and expecting. You don’t reply soon enough.

He walks up to you. His large hands falling onto your knees as he pries them apart. He settles between your legs, palms gliding up to rest on your thighs.

“Answer me when I talk to you.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“What’re you sorry for?”

“Not answering-”

“Wrong.” He cuts in.

“I’ll ask again. What’re you sorry for?”

Your chest heaves as you catch your breath. The anticipation is killing you. Your core throbbing. You try to close your legs. He tightens his grip on your thighs in response. One of his hands gliding further up your thigh. You tremble.

“I’m sorry for speaking to you the way i did.” You manage to whisper, your voice shaky.

He hums pitifully, “I can’t hear you, y/n. Speak the fuck up.” His palm abruptly occupies the warmth between your legs. You jolt. He sneers.

You grind into his palm, “I’m sorry for speaking to you the way I did!” You say again, louder this time.

His fingers press against your clothed folds, collecting the wetness that seeped there. You mewl, he grins.

“Yeah,” He mutters, “Is that what this is? Huh? You’re just needy?”

Your head falls slack, dazed from the overwhelming lust. You press your forehead against his shoulder. His lips ghost your ear.

You feel his stubble scratch and prick your skin. You shiver, wincing but leaning into him. Intoxicated. His fingers push aside your panties, delving into your wet folds. A squelch noise welcomes him. He groans.

“What a fucking mess.” He grits, using his spare hand to twist into your hair and yank your head back. He wants to see that pretty face.

He pushes a finger into your seeping hole. Then another, twisting them in unison as they sink into you, curling and pumping.

“There. How’s that feel, huh? Was it worth it?”

You’re in heaven. Moaning so blissfully. The pleasure so intense that you can barely compose yourself. He grimaces and pulls his fingers out, leaving you empty. The lack of makes you whine, clutching him. He brings his fingers to your mouth, pressing their way in.

“Clean them.”

You oblige, eager. Sucking them so hard as you taste yourself. He’s glaring at you, his teeth slightly bared.

“You’re gonna earn my attention, y/n. Got it?”

He tightens the grip in your hair and he moves your head up and down so it looks like you’re nodding yes. You’re mouth to busy accommodating his fingers to reply. You hum instead.

“First step,” He says, pulling his fingers from your mouth and hoisting you off his desk and onto your feet.

You look up at him.

“Clean your fucking desk:”

..

#william afton x reader #william afton #fnaf movie #fnaf #steve raglan #matthew lillard #five nights at freddy's

[phantomspiderr]

Happy Birthday, Marc

Pairing: Marc Spector x afab!reader & Steven Grant x afab!reader

Word Count: 3k+

Summary: You think birthdays are something important, a chance to celebrate your favourite person, to give them anything they want and make them feel good. And maybe Marc will look forward to his birthday from now on.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ smut bby, unprotected p in v, fingering, a little manhandling, it's fluffy i'm ngl, use of the nicknames baby & sweetheart

a/n: besties i'm ngl i'm exhausted and i've probabaly missed things in order just to post this cause I started writing it like a week ago and just got the urge to finish it. So i'm sorry if i'm missing tags and stuff, let me know if there's things missing. But I hope you like it anyways, love you, appreciate you and now i'm going to sleep

“Marc,” it comes out in a breathy whisper and your lips are pressed back to his skin before you’re even finished drawing out his name. For once, by some miracle, you’d woken up before your boyfriend so it was only right to wake him in the best way you know how. It was also just coincidentally his birthday and you think today should be all about him and things that make him feel good.

Continuing at your slow pace, you place kisses on his cheek, moving down to his jaw and then his neck. If he was awake he’d call you a tease, especially with the way you’re straddling his waist, and definitely for your choice of clothing—or lack thereof. You’d maybe went online and bought yourself a cute, new underwear set and maybe you’d planned to buy it the week before Marc’s birthday. Now, you just have to hope it will be Marc fronting when he wakes, not that you’d complain if it was Steven or Jake. 

You call his name again, hoping that will somehow unconsciously pull him to front as you gently tug on the neckline of his tshirt so you can press kisses to his collarbone. Your hands move delicately against his skin too, lightly brushing over his arms or holding his face and they sneak under the hem of his shirt to feel the relaxed muscles there.

“Baby.” This time his body stirs a little, a deep, quiet groan escaping him. A smile creeps its way onto your face as you sit back to admire him. He looks so pretty like this, hair all tousled against the pillow and face completely relaxed, the frown lines that seem like a permanent feature faded with sleep. 

Your hands are still resting under his shirt against his stomach, slowly creeping higher before coming back down. His body begins to wriggle every time your featherlight touch runs across his sides and a giggle bubbles in your throat when he half-heartedly swats your hands away. Mercifully you stop your hand's cruel pursuit and go back to pressing tender kisses to his neck. You quietly call out for Marc again between kisses and this time he shifts more, the quiet groans turning more into little whines. The sounds only spur you on more, holding his chin in your hand so you can switch sides. Your ministrations continue until you feel his hands anchor themselves on your hips. He’s pushing you down more into his lap, the contact forcing a whimper out of you. 

You keep his face delicately held in your hand and go back to kissing his cheek. His hands start moving up your sides, shivers running up your spine at the movement. 

“Well this is some way to wake up,” his voice is groggy and any other time you’d smile and egg him on to talk more until the rough tone faded but it’s not the voice you’d hoped for. You physically deflate, your head briefly sinking into the pillow over his shoulder before you sit up again. Fighting the urge to quietly moan when you accidentally grind against him. 

“What’s wrong, love?” The sweet British accent you’d normally swoon for only causes your pout to grow. Upon your withdrawal from him, Steven’s eyes had shot open, the creases between his eyebrows harsh again. 

“I was hoping for Marc,” you sound like a spoilt child. You know that’s not how it works, you can’t just request who you want at that moment. And anyway, you love all of the boys equally so it shouldn't matter. Never do you want one of them to feel inferior to the others but the quiet oh that leaves Steven has you panicked you’ve done just that. “No! I didn’t mean I don’t want you, Steven! I want you, trust me. It’s just… it’s silly. I wanted to do something for Marc because it’s his birthday.” Your voice dies out before you even finish. You’re looking everywhere but into his eyes and suddenly you wish you had more clothes on to cover up. 

“Oh love,” Steven props himself up on his elbows, fingertips just grazing your knees. “You know how Marc feels about his birthday.”

The more seconds that pass the more silly you feel for trying to do anything. 

“I know.” It comes out meekly, your eyes fixed on your hands that pick at the threads of Steven’s old shirt. 

“Hey,” suddenly Steven sits up, his hands soothingly cupping your cheeks and your gaze moves straight to his face, “if this is what you do for Marc’s birthday, well then I can’t wait for mine.”

Your face cracks, the sad exterior fading the longer you look at Steven's cheery features. The man seems to have a way of always making things better. 

“You know,” his eyes flicker to your lips only for a moment, “just because Marc’s not here doesn’t mean you have to stop.” Steven's rare boldness always surprises you, “it’d be a shame to waste all of this.” He leans back just a little so he can rake his eyes over your body, his hands moving down to your waist and pressing you impossibly closer. It causes you both to let out a satisfying sigh.

“You do have a point…” you let your own eyes trail down his body as your hands slowly pull up the hem of his shirt, exposing more of him. You quickly grow impatient with your own actions, tugging his shirt up and instinctively Steven raises his arms so you can pull it off. You’re both moving in the second his shirt is off, lips crashing against one another in a hasty, messy kiss. You’re sinking further into his hold as his hands grip onto you for dear life. It’s completely impulsive when you grind yourself down in his lap. It clearly takes Steven by surprise because his head falls back and a low grunt escapes him. You do it again, this time placing a kiss on his jaw and he holds you down, one of his arms wrapped securely around you. He’s back to looking at you and already he’s wrecked, panting, and disheveled. Still, even in his tight grip you manage to roll your hips, the friction feels so good and you crave more of it. 

“Right, as pretty as this is, take it off now.” He snaps the elastic of your underwear causing you to squeal and jerk in his lap again. It’s ungracious and desperate the way you climb out of his lap and tug your underwear down your legs. It seems Steven’s just as desperate as he awkwardly pulls off the sweatpants he’d slept in until he’s completely naked.

Steven looks into your eyes with pure adoration, his hands touching your thighs delicately as you settle back in his lap. You sit back on his thighs and Steven’s hands curl around to rub your back. He even blushes and has to look away when you hold his face and smile at him, a glimpse at the sweet Steven you’re used to. His head rests on your collarbone and automatically your hand slips around into his hair, gently combing through the wild curls. The soft moment has you relaxing in his hold so much so your body flinches when Steven’s hand unexpectedly grazes the inside of your thigh. Then he has you gasping in seconds, his fingers running through your soaked folds. His movements have your body rising, almost like it’s trying to get away from his touch. The hand in his hair tightens, especially as he begins to circle your clit, and your other hand grips his shoulder so much your fingers ache. The stimulation is enough to have you breathily moaning already then he’s raising his head to look at you with that dopey grin before he pushes two fingers into you, causing your jaw to drop. There’s a welcome sting before your senses are steeped in pleasure. Steven’s fingers build a pace slowly, his thumb now brushing against your clit each time he sinks into you. 

Steven looks at you like you’re the pyramids like you’re some unexplained wonder in the world that very few people get to experience. The eye contact becomes too intense that you have to close your eyes and your head instinctively rolls back. You allow the pleasure to consume you, your hips now grinding against his hand and whimpers of his name filling the room. You’re so lost in the growing feeling of your climax creeping closer that you don’t hear him speak, let alone hear the change in accent or the way his grips got a little tighter. It’s only when you feel a sharp bite to the top of one of your breasts that your head snaps back down with a yelp. 

“Look at me.” That thick Chicago accent is prominent in your ears now. “Keep your eyes right here, sweetheart,” and he smirks when you dumbly nod your head. 

“Marc.” You’re panting now as he moves a little faster and rougher than Steven had. It’s his turn to be impatient, he’s trying desperately to use speed and more force to pull your orgasm out of you quicker. It takes a second for your body to adjust to the change but then you’re crying out for him, begging him to keep going. Your hand's can't stay still, they keep moving to touch him anywhere; his shoulders, his back, his neck, and then they finally rest on his face. Your fingers dig into his cheek and his jaw and you keep your eyes on him like you were told. 

“That’s it,” he hits the perfect spot that has you squeezing around his fingers, “just a little more baby.” Marc keeps his speed steady now, using his arm that's wrapped around you to assist in grinding your hips. Your head’s spinning now, your heart thudding in your chest and you can’t think straight. Now, you’re kissing him or at least trying to between cries of pleasure. Marc chuckles as you gasp and clutch onto his shoulders when he ceases movement of his fingers. He continues to rock your hips and instead moves his thumb faster against your clit. Your forehead is pressed against his, your eyes are screwed shut and you’re climbing higher until you’re plummeting off the edge. 

“Couldn’t miss this,” Marc’s taking advantage of your hazy state, nuzzling himself into your neck, “gods I can’t wait baby. I need you now.”

Your mind is still somewhere in the clouds, not really comprehending what he’s saying but you’re nodding. You trust him enough to let him do anything to you.

Marc’s moving eagerly, his soaked fingers slip out of you which causes a whimper to escape you. You’re pretty much a dead weight, your body feeling too heavy to move but that doesn’t stop Marc. He moves you like you weigh nothing and you let him manhandle you, flipping you over onto your back so he can be on top. 

“I love you so much, baby.” You’re smiling up at him when he says it, head still all floaty. He looks so ethereal like this, his eyes focused on his hand that’s now stroking himself. His toned chest heaving quicker now. “So lucky to have you,” his free hand pushes one of your thighs down, exposing you more to him. Normally you’d hate being this exposed, you’d want to cover up and hide yourself away but Marc looks at you like you’re it. You’re everything he’s ever wanted or needed like he would physically wither away without you.

It’s different from the way Steven looks at you, everything about Steven is gentle and soft but Marc’s more meticulous and complex. Marc’s gazes say more than he thinks he can articulate, his eyes always full of love whenever he looks at you. Only in truly intimate moments like this does he let his guard down enough to be able to share all those feelings that swim around in his head. 

“Need you, baby.” Your eyes fall shut when he drags the tip of his cock through your folds, quiet whimpers flowing past your lips as he slowly pushes himself in. Your hands loosely cling to the sheets and unconsciously you’re bearing down your hips toward him, unexpectedly forcing him deeper. Marc’s hand slams down on the mattress next to you, a curse sharply coming out of him. You open your droopy eyes to see he’s closer now, leaning over you completely with his furrowed brow and tense features. It’s hard to keep your eyes open, Marc seems to have this power to make you feel fuzzy no matter what. 

“Hey,” you’re blinking up at him the second you hear his voice, “look at me.” 

It’s not a command like the last time he said it, no, it’s more like a plea. He wants you to look at him like he’s the only person to ever exist, or that he’s the best person to exist and you do. You look at him as if it’s the last time you could lay your eyes on him, soaking up every detail and trying to portray all of the love you feel for him. 

Your hand moves up to hold his face again, the other finding purchase on his side. You raise your head just enough so you can kiss him, it’s only brief but a smile creeps across his face. Marc lowers himself to rest on his elbow so he can kiss you again, over and over while he slowly starts to rock his hips. The gentle pecks quickly turn fervent as his thrusts pick up their pace. He’s not going too fast but it’s consistent and deliberate. His free hand lovingly rubs the outside of your thigh that’s crept up to encase his hips.

You can feel the familiar tightening warmth already blooming again. The hand that was cupping his face moves into his hair. The messy curls slip through your fingers as you pull him impossibly closer. 

“I-I need-ah-I love-“ you can’t even form a coherent sentence. You want to tell him that you need him, that you love him, that he is truly all you’ll ever want. You’d planned all these things you wanted to say to him, how exactly you wanted to pour out all the good things he makes you feel. You wanted to make him feel loved, to maybe replace some of those bad memories he holds with new happy ones. You were supposed to be the one making him feel good and here you are an intelligible mess because of how well he’s treating you. 

“I know-I know, baby.” He’s breathing so hard, panting from exertion. The hand that’s resting on your thigh holds on a little firmer, a sign he’s found a rhythm that works for him. Marc kisses you again, it’s surprisingly tender for the situation you’re currently in. It is however cut off quickly when he lets up the prettiest sound. His forehead thuds against your shoulder, a mixture of moans and grunts freely falling past his lips. It drives you insane in the best way possible, you think maybe you could get off on that sound alone. 

“Hey-hey, look at me. Look at me.” You’re almost whispering, practically sounding like you’re begging. You tap your fingers against his head to grab his attention more. He’s a sight to be seen when he lifts his head, half-lidded eyes and lips parted and heaving in air. Loose curls flopped against his forehead and the crease between his eyebrows is so prominent now. You don’t care about anything other than the way he looks right now. You don’t care how many times you get to see him like this, you want to memorise every single time. 

Marc stutters on his words, his mind clearly just as muddled as yours. You can tell his body is tiring despite his hips moving faster as he chases his climax. Your body feels frozen pressed against his, you can only cling onto him. You squeak out his name as the hand on your thigh tightens, almost certain there’ll be fingerprints imprinted there for the rest of the week. 

Suddenly, he’s mumbling out the sweet nicknames he calls you, his face screwing up even as he fights to keep his eyes on you. Then it’s sweeping him under, his energy spikes and he thrusts a little harder. His orgasm washes over him completely, you catch his eyes slightly rolling back as they close before his head falls back against your shoulder again. His hips keep moving as he cums, slowing the longer he goes until he just stops moving completely. Your hand moves out of his hair to soothingly rub his back as he comes down from his high. You can feel his breath panting against your collarbone, his chest heaving still. You turn your head so you can press a kiss into his hair, whispering words of love into the dark curls. 

“I’m sorry.” Your face instantly scrunches when you hear the apology, waiting to hear the reason why. “I couldn’t miss this. I needed you so bad.” You laugh once before pausing and doing it again until you’re full-on giggling. Marc lifts his head with that same furrow of his brows for a different reason this time. “What?”

“This was for you,” his eyebrow cocks up a bit at that. His eyes just briefly glancing down at your chest, still covered in the nice-looking lingerie. Your hand slips back to hold his cheek again, your thumb rubbing back and forth lovingly as you look up at him. “I wanted to do something special for your birthday. I know it’s silly and we don’t-“

“Oh we’re doing this every year now,” Marc’s smirking at you now and the insecurity is flushed out of you, “however you’re gonna have to make it up to Steven.”

“Me?!” 

“Poor guy’s a mess, you can’t just leave him in that state sweetheart.” He laughs when you begin protesting that it’s not your fault. Marc’s chuckles die out as he looks down at you smiling up at him. Your heart thumps in your chest still when he looks at you. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together they all still have a way of making you feel giddy with just one look. You push up unexpectedly to kiss him briefly, your head falling back against the pillows so you can look at him again. 

“Happy birthday, Marc.”

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fic #marc spector x you #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #marc spector x fem!reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fluff #marc spector smut #steven grant smut #moon knight x you #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight smut

[azrakaban]

Mr Corrigan - Lorenzo Berkshire

a/n: finished it ends with us at 2:30 am last night and was inspired to make this so enjoy this randomly put together one shot :) 

WARNING: CONTAINS A SMALL IT ENDS WITH US SPOILER THAT MAY OR MAY NOT RUIN A BIT OF IT. GO READ IT IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY. TRUST ME. IT'S WORTH IT. I WOULD PAY MONEY TO READ IT FOR THE FIRST TIME AGAIN. Bye :D

Edit: I started writing this months ago, but I just couldn't get it to a standard I liked. So finally, I have it to the point where I'm satisfied with it, and can present to you: Mr Corrigan <3

...

"and then he said 'in the future... if by some miracle you find yourself in the position to fall in love again... fall in love with me.' And I SCREAMED Enzo! I screamed! I woke up everyone in my dorm and read it to them and they screamed too!" you said, flopping back onto your pillow.

"Atlas Corrigan has well and truly stolen my heart! I'm in LOVE!" you said, sighing and laughing at Enzo's raised eyebrow.

"I hope you're sparing some of that love for me then darling. I'm not sure how I feel about sharing your heart with your Mr Corrigan. I'd rather have it all to myself, you know? I'm kinda selfish like that." He said, smiling down at you.

"When you write lines like that for me Enzo, I'll kick him out and you can be the full time resident." you said, laughing and hitting him with a pillow gently.

"challenge accepted y/n. challenge accepted." he said, grabbing a pillow and hitting you back. "And I mean to the pillow war, don't get your hopes up, I'm no genius when it comes to writing." he said, shielding him from the cascading blows of your pillow on his head.

...

You dropped your bag onto the floor of your room, pulling your notes from your bag and sorting through them.

Throughout the various notes about Grindylows you found five scraps of paper, each with a tiny note from Enzo that he'd passed you earlier.

your eyes roved over each word, taking them in once again and smiling.

"I promise to plant kisses like seeds on your body, so in time you can grow to love yourself as much as I do."

"I like shiny things but I'd marry you with paper rings"

"thanks for being mine darling"

"not once have I looked at you and not had to blink to check that you're real."

"I'll take any portion of your heart you'll give me."

you laughed at the last one a bit, remembering his reluctance to share your heart with Atlas. But hey, what could he do? It was Atlas who was fictional, not him. (dear readers... I'm sorry)

you moved to lie back on your bed, sliding the notes into the draw beside your bed. you looked at the books beside your bed, reading the titles over and over again.

You were no Juliet, but you had your love story with Enzo. He completed you. your other half.

you noticed something poking at your neck and sat up, looking at your pillow. A slightly crinkled note sat on it.

you checked it was to you, before unfolding it. A magnet fell out, small and rectangular. You turned it over quickly to read what it said. "Boston: Where Everything Is Better." 

So he'd read it ends with us for you. That's it, you were sold, he was the one, you would marry him.

you smiled and decided to keep the magnet in your hand, waiting till you had finished the letter to put it somewhere. you unfolded his letter, and started to decipher his handwriting.

"dear y/n. I don't really know how to explain the effect you have on me. I don't even really know how to begin this letter to be honest. I'm no fictional character, and naturally I am not going to be incredible with words, so please bear with me while I try to get this onto paper. I might not be a certain Atlas Corrigan, Rhys Larsen or Edward Cullen (although he bears a striking resemblance to a certain Cedric Diggory), but I can at least try to get this onto paper.

People say "I would go to the ends of the earth for you. I would walk on fire for you. I would die for you. But I can't say that. I can't genuinely say that I would walk on fire to save you from something. Because, for starters, i wouldn't let you get into the position where you have to be saved. I want to be your protector, the focus of your mind, the only person you think about. 

It's not about having you as mine, it's about making you sure that you know I belong to you. Ask me to jump, I'd say how high. Ask me to give up my friends, I would (reluctantly though, so please don't)"

You paused to sniffle at that. Wait. Hang on. Sniffle? Oh merlin, there were tears in your eyes. What on earth? Must be hayfever. Your eyes slid back to the lettter, which was still going somehow. 

"Anyway, besides that y/n, I want to be the person who gets to memorise everything about you. The way your nose crinkles when you're confused, the look you get in your eyes when you're explaining your latest book to me, the un-natural ability you have to be able to guess what I'm thinking...

Other than when you're overthinking and you trick yourself into worrying that I don't love you anymore. In those instances when I have to remind you that I love you, I'll just pull out this letter for you to read. And if that's not enough of a reminder, then I'll hold you until the obsessive thoughts stop and you fall asleep in my arms, where you belong.  

Because that's one of the simple things I love. Just sitting, holding you. We don't have to be talking, holding you is enough. I just need to know that I still have you. And honestly, you consume all my thoughts. I won't say every minute of every hour, because lets be honest, I would not pass a single exam if you were on my brain 24/7. Sorry darling. 

I'm not going to ask you for another letter like this in return, because honestly, you didn't ask me to write this, and to be honest, I like that I'm the source of the love letters in this relationship.

 So y/n, once you've read this, you can ignore it, you can sleep with it under your pillow (little obssessive but I can excuse most things you do - this does not include murder, but does extend to Arson, Organised Theft and Kidnapping and Fights), or you can just keep it and treasure it.

Do whatever you want with it. It's yours. I'm yours.

Your own personal Mr Corrigan." 

The tears were freeflowing by this point, streaming down your cheeks. You flopped back onto your pillows, trying to act like the girls in movies when they lie back on their beds holding a photograph, book or diary. Unfortunately, you failed miserably with this attempt. 

You promptly banged your head on the headboard and cursed. So much for movie girl.You re-read the letter, and fresh tears sprang into your eyes, trickling down your cheeks. 

Enzo. He'd written this for you. Oh my merlin. All you wanted was to do something for him. But only one thing came to mind. Something he had mentioned in his letter. Big gestures could wait for later. All you needed to do right then was get to him. Find him. 

You sprung up off your bed, tears still falling, and grabbed one of his hoodies from your bedpost. Pulling it over your head, you ran to the Slytherin boys dorm. You quickly knocked on the door and the door opened. It was Blaise. He quickly looked back into the dorm and yelled: "BOYS! OUT!" 

They came quickly, Mattheo, Draco, Theodore and Blaise, filing out like a fire drill. It seemed almost practiced. Actually, knowing them, it probably was. You walked in tentatively, looking around the door. 

You could see him, sat on his bed, fiddling around with a scarf you left in his dorm once. "And I, left my scarf there at your sister's house" (ALL TOO WELL REFERENCE I'M SORRY I KNOW ITS THE WRONG CONTEXT BUT MOOOOOVING ON) 

He looked up and gave you a nervous smile, mouthing a quick 'hey.' That did it. You ran across the room to him, into his opening arms and he held you tight to him. His arms closed around you as you cried into his shoulder, the letter still held in your hand. 

"Merlin y/n, if I'd known the letter would have made you like this I might not have written it. I hate seeing you sad." He said, smiling sadly at you. You half laughed at that, choking back a sob, pulling back to look into his eyes. "Happy tears" you said, looking into his eyes.

 There was some confusion in them, but overall, just love. Overwhelming, brain shaking love. And what he did next rendered you unable to speak. 

Leaning forward, he kissed away your tears, fingers dusting your cheeks. Once he was happy there were no tears left, he leaned back and mouthed to you, "I love you." 

Unable to speak, you leaned forwards and pressed your lips to his, trying to put a lot of unsaid words into the kiss. His lips pushed back against yours, knowing what you were trying to say. 

You pulled back after a while, trying to speak.

 "Enzo- I-"

 A finger touched to your lips, silencing you. 

His eyes locked with yours. 

"It's okay. I know." 

You nodded, still slightly breathless, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around him, returning his hold. Your lips neared his ear and a few words escaped your lips. 

"I guess I'm yours too, my Mr Corrigan."

I'm lazy but I have decided to dedicate this part to @lavenderorlilac for being easily my favourite reader and follower both on TikTok and over here. Thank you love ❤️

#it ends with us #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #louis partridge #harry potter #slytherin boys headcanons #slytherin boys #slytherins #slytherin #slytherin boys fluff #lorenzo berkshire fluff

[sailormoonrarepairweek]

Welcome to the third annual Sailor Moon Rare Pair Week! The event will take place from March 24th - March 30th, 2024, but I'm announcing the themes early to give everyone plenty of time to create their fanworks.

What counts as a rare pair for this event, you ask? Any pairing that isn't Usagi/Mamoru (or any of their incarnations), pretty much! (Don’t get too hung up on the word “rare”. Just roll with it, okay?) They usually have their own week, so this event is a chance for fans to show their love for pairings other than the Miracle Romance, canon or not. You can even include poly, platonic, and cross-over ships, if you'd like! Almost anything goes, as long as you follow some simple guidelines.

Fanworks should somehow incorporate the one of the day's themes. (You can pick just one; you don't have to use both.) How you choose the interpret the theme is up to you!

A non-UsaMamo pair must be the MAIN focus of the work (although Usagi/Mamoru can appear as a side pairing or as part of a polycule).

All ratings allowed.

No smut involving underage characters, which I'm defining as under 18 years old. Otherwise, as long as the characters are portrayed as adults in the fanwork, go wild! Just please make sure to properly tag.

Pairings of all sexual/romantic orientations welcome.

Fanfics should be a minimum of 500 words. Poetry may be shorter, though. (If you would prefer to write drabbles instead, you can write five separate 100-word drabbles about the day's themes, but a day's entry should still be at least 500 words long. You have over four months until the week begins and plenty of time afterward if you don't finish in time. That's plenty of time to write 500 words. I don't think that's too much to ask.) If you're writing fanfic, I REALLY would prefer you post your fics on AO3 or Fanfiction.net and provide a link to your story, but if you must post on Tumblr itself, please make use of the "Read More" option.

Fanart should be a completed drawing. (Any fanart portraying nudity or anything of an R/NC-17 nature should be cropped if immediately visible on your Tumblr post and/or posted with the appropriate community label. You can post the full image under a "Read More" or provide a link to the image on another site.)

Graphics, image boards, playlists, cosplay photos, crafts, meta/essays, etc. are also welcome!

Comments, kudos, and reblogs are encouraged, but don't be a jerk! If you're not a fan of a pairing, please just ignore and move on.

On Tumblr, if you tag #smrarepairweek2024, I will reblog your post. I'll tag explict art and fics reblogs as #nsfw, so feel free to block that tag if you'd rather not see those posts.

Please do not post your works anywhere until the day dedicated to your chosen theme. An AO3 collection has now been set up for this year's event. (Adding your work to the collection will not be required.) If you'd like to look back at the last event's works, the 2023 collection can be found here.

And here is the 2022 collection.

Themes

Day 1: Magic/Mundane Day 2: Hugs/Kisses Day 3: Fire/Ice Day 4: Music/Silence Day 5: Birth/Death Day 6: Break-Up/Make-Up Day 7: Free

(Event Organizer: @kaleidodreams)

#sailor moon #sailor moon fanfiction #sailor moon fanart #smrarepairweek2024 #sailor moon rare pair week #rare pairs

[moongreenlight]

WIP Wednesday except it's Thursday and I'm using this as an excuse to post something without the imaginary pressure of getting a full fic out. :D

800-ish word excerpt from my Ghoap x Reader nutcracker AU that I meant to finish around Christmas.

The orchestra has picked up about half a beat too fast and the conductor seems not to have noticed.

Too busy salivating at the legs of one of the snowflake girls a few spots to your left. His baton is getting lazy. Long, drawn out flicks and swishes like he’s casting spells instead of directing. Strange, you think. If anything they should be slowing down to match his tempo.

Maybe it’s the strings? They’re nipping into the winds and forcing the entire group forward. It throws off a girl in front of you. She’s younger by a handful of years. Doesn’t quite have the music- even at the right tempo- committed to memory. She drops her arm a full count too early. Even from behind you can hear her curse.

This seems to rouse him. He jerks his head back to center and starts flicking the tip of the baton back on beat. He’s a stern man. He’s got coal-black eyes that seem to house the staggering power to burn a hole straight through someone bone and all. You swear you can hear flesh crackling and sizzling as he casts his gaze out over the stage. It takes a moment, but he’s able to herd the group back onto a single track. Dancers and musicians alike.

Someone has either put too much or too little rosin on their shoes. It’s difficult to pinpoint, but there’s a terrible squeaking sound from somewhere on the stage that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Like nails on a chalkboard. It gets worse during the final round of turns.

And then, by some miracle, intermission. Big cloth curtains draw together. Kicking up dust and loose sparkles and large pieces of fake snow that adhere themselves to your skin. Kept snug in place by the sheen of sweat that collected under the brutal heat of the spotlights and the effort it took to dance for nearly forty minutes straight.

Imogene, the girl who’d just recently championed the superlative of biggest blunder to date, was now heavily crying into the arms of her older sister.

You relish the few moments you get to catch your breath before the mistress comes and begins to shoo you and the other girls offstage. She’s far more stern than the conductor. And unfortunately less handsome, though they share the same deep-set frown lines that cage their mouths. You catch her give a shaking Imogene a whack to the ear before you can duck backstage.

In your hurry to whip your head back around for fear of meeting the same fate, you run directly into someone’s back. You’re quick to hiss out an apology, but it’s drowned out by the sound of a man speaking terribly muddy French.

“- gorgeous. Even caught the orchestra’s attention.” (please pretend this is French I forgot to translate it and I'm too lazy rn)

The girl he’s talking to, Sophie, giggles and he sways slightly from her batting him in the chest.

“Excuse me.”

It comes out a bit more stiff than you mean it to. He doesn’t wait for Sophie to dismiss herself before turning around.

John MacTavish is one of the few men in the company, but even without such slim options, you feel he would still be a standout.

He’s not from France, though it’s not uncommon for members to have made pilgrimage to join such a prestigious group. His accent is horrible, any potential ruined by his upbringing somewhere in Scotland, though he earns himself a few points with native speakers for his enthusiasm.

He’s also granted the cushion of patience because of his undeniable good looks. He’s got great blue eyes that emote just as well as he does. Shining and laughing along with him like they’ve got personalities to match. He’s big. Tall and muscular, which -again- isn’t uncommon what with all the lifts and spins and acrobatics he does, but he packs on muscle in a way not many other male dancers have the capacity to do.

You’re sure it’s a nightmare to source costumes for him. He’s tore the back panel out of his jacket twice this season alone and you’re only about three-quarters of the way through.

He’s gorgeous and he knows it, which makes him insufferable. He’s charming and got fantastic whit, sure, but he’s perverse and a habitual letcher so it all seems to cancel out.

His great beauty makes him the popular option for most all of the company and the patrons of the opera house alike. It’s become a running joke that you’ve not really served your time unless you’ve had a go with John.

Your participation is left widely up to speculation.

“Sorry, hen.”

If he noticed your rigidity, he doesn’t bring it up. Instead he leans down and takes you by the wrists. Brings his face close to yours and plants a kiss on the right corner of your mouth.

“Jesus, John.”

You scramble away, much to his delight.

“Always forget if it’s right or left first.”

He’s snickering like he’s clever. It takes some legitimate effort to wrench your arms out of the manacles that are his hands.

“Funny.”

You say flatly as you shoulder past him, wiping at the corner of your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“I thought so.”

#moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #john soap mactavish #simon riley #ghoap #ghoap x reader #wip wednesday

[aidenlydia]

was just wondering how you chose if/when Riley wears his mask. Most of your pieces have the mask lifted off only his mouth but some have it dully on or fully off. I was wondering if there was a specific reason for that or just what you think looks good?

It's a mix of reasons.

The first is pretty simple: I like drawing expressions, faces and most importantly, intimacy. That's why my Ghost rarely ever wears glasses and usually has his mask lifted. It not only shows his vulnerability with MacTavish, but also allows them to kiss, have direct eye contact and be skin to skin. Speaking of, painting realistic skin is very satisfying to me and covering it up with cloth kills me a little. Same with drawing ears, I sacrificed so many good ears in favor of that mask..

Second, I get bored easily. Drawing the same mask/glasses/headset/jacket combo over and over again without any human features burns me out. I knew immediately I needed a face design and different outfits for Ghost, despite really loving his whole look and actually preferring him all covered up. Unfortunately that just isn't in the cards for me, so I switch between fully masked, half masked, bare faced and medical mask to keep him fresh and interesting for myself. Even his body type changes, he goes from twink to more sturdy builds depending on how bored I am with it.

(MacTavish is less of a problem but I do switch it up by changing his clothes, having him be shirtless or fluctuate his muscle mass.)

To put it into a bit more perspective: my art process is jumping between countless WIPs in various stages of completion and artstyles until something happens to get finished eventually - my SoapGhost WIP folder alone is currently at 339 pieces - and if a painting takes me longer than a day to complete, chances are I'll drop it and pick it back up again in anywhere between a week or a year (it's a miracle I get anything done at all).

So I'll do whatever it takes to actually help me continue drawing and manage my constant burnout. Being chronically ill and creative is the worst combo, I think about completely quitting art every other day :')

And third, well. Sometimes it really is simply about which one looks better.

#snail in my ear telling me to quit art #it's the perfect multitasking hobby though #can't read and watch youtube at the same time now can you #that's what I thought #simon ghost riley #09 ghost #09 soapghost

[igotanidea]

Not like them : Nikolai Lantsov x reader

idea/requests by @sublimepenguinpeach-blog : Reader is friends with Alina, met with Nikolai, who is smitten with her, but she reject al his advances since he remind her too much of the men who sexually harassed her in the past. But when reader starts flirting with Tolya, the price just could not hold it anymore.

I changed some things so they would fit the story better, but hope you'll like it :)

***

„You know he’s harmless, right? Just a bit too cocky and self-confident, but apart from that….” Alina started, taking a seat next to her friend on Volkvolny

“I know.” Y/N cut her off before the sun summoner could even finish the sentence “but those are men like him who …..” her voice broke a little.

“I’m sorry.” Alina looked down. “I never meant to remind you of the past.”

“Not your fault.” The other girl sighed deeply and looked at the ocean.

Back in the days, before she met Alina, she had her fair share of traumatic events. As if it wasn’t hard enough to be born into an esteemed Grisha family and yet, also being the only one who held no powers. Zero. Zip. Nada. Unless you count her social awkwardness and a bit of quirkiness.

And that…. well, it led to some complications, to say the least. Although no one ever said that straight  to her face, she was a black sheep of the family and it was showing in every gesture, every word and every action taken towards her. She was treated condescendingly, humiliatingly and blamed for so many things that were simply beyond her control ….

One day she just couldn’t take it anymore and snapped. Made a mess. Screamed at the top of her lungs. The quiet girl who was taking all the tease became a snarky, snappy, sarcastic and quick to respond woman.

Oh, if that girl ever held any power she would be an Inferni, no doubt about it. She just seemed to have an answer for everything, was not afraid and that blunt, big mouth caused her some trouble. Let’s just say that her father did not like the attitude. Despite her being ordinary, from that day she was practically forced to participate in a straight-regime training wish Grisha just to punish and humiliate her. And her inadequacy was quickly noticed by some of the guys there.

And used.

One night after particularly extreme practice, when she was walking home alone, tired, exhausted and barely moving her legs three of them laid out for her, grabbed her from behind and dragged her into the nearest empty house on the roadside.

“Get the fuck off me!!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, squirming against the tight grip, but she was too small and too weak to fight against her oppressors. “I will not…..”

“Will you just shut up?” one of the boys said, tightening the grip on her. “You were asking for it from the moment you showed up amongst us. You don’t belong here. You’re not a Grisha.”

“Well you don’t deserve that position either!” she spat and that got her a slap on the face. Oh, that boy was surely not holding back his strength. “Fuck you!” she screamed

“I think opposite.” He smirked  taking a step forward “wonder if you’ll act the same when we are done with you. What do you think, gentlemen? Shall we draw lots who would be the first to play with her?”

Shit. She had to do something. Anything. But how could she possibly fight against three grown-up men? She was turning her head around frantically, using the fact that at this point her capturers started quarreling about the order of ……

And their absent-mindedness gave her a bit of leverage when she quickly wriggled herself free and started running as fast as she could. She might have been smaller but it also made her faster and due to some miracle she managed to escape. That was a relief, but her frantically beating heart, disheveled hair, torn coat and dirt on her knees was not something her parents accepted. They were disgusted by her outlook. And of course, she could never tell them what really (almost) happened. They would never believe her. Instead, she took her punishment, throwing some sarcastic comments, clenched her jaw and tried to move forward.

But the trauma stayed.

And those men got away with everything, and even worse – from that fateful evening started to harass her even more. Verbally. Throwing dirty jokes about her body, grabbing her while passing and making efforts to get her alone again, claiming that this was what she wanted.

And she snapped again. Causing a scandal, since after all she was a “no one” who dared to attack Grisha.

Since there was no one who could help her, she just escaped her hometown and were on the run since then.

And that was how she met Alina and Mal, who were probably the first people to accept her fully, never judge her and become her friends for good and for bad. They knew each other for a couple years now and there was nothing that these three wouldn’t do for each other.

Hunting for the seawhip amplifier included. And dealing with one, stupidly annoying price Nikolai Lanstov.

Y/N did not like him from the very beginning. Of course, he was annoyingly handsome with that infuriating smile and contagious laugh, with those shiny eyes that seemed to sparkle even more when he was at sea and his unruly, thick, curly hair.

But his attitude?

Just like Alina said. Cocky. Arrogant. Conceited. Sarcastic and so full of himself. This reminded her of those men from her past. And it was not a good memory. Therefore for the last weeks she has been avoiding him like a plague, trying to shield herself from the trip down memory lane. And both Mal and Alina supported her in this, while knowing where it came from. And they were never going to tell her secret.

The rest of the crew however, did not understand a thing. Especially Tamar and Tolya. They were a bit surprised that someone could have so much irony and  power to make their friend Nikolai speechless. She was probably the only girl who could begin to compare with Nikolai in the field of hiding true feelings and using irony as a defense, a shield. And that boy just loved to spite her.

And speaking of the devil…..

“Are you ladies enjoying the view?” upon hearing Sturmhond voice Y/N just rolled her eyes.

“Be nice.” Alina hissed turning around towards the prince.

“nice. sure. It’s not like you were the one to punch him the second we found out his true identity.” Y/N spat back

“That was only because you are slower than me…”

“It’s not like we are on vacation.” Y/N spit before Alina managed to stop her “In case you forgot, tsarevich.”

“Not with you to remind me. You should relax a bit, sunshine.” Nikolai smirked with that characteristic face expression that made Y/N clench her fists. He was just so freaking annoying. “And since you two are clearly gossiping here, may I ask who is the subject of those gossips?”

“What makes you think it was a person?” Y/N crossed arms over her chest, eying Nikolai with the most stern expression she could produce.

“Call it instincts. So?”

“No one you would know.”

“Really? Wanna bet I can find out who’s the lucky guy? I got resources to do that.”

“Saints! Only you can start bragging out of nowhere.” The hell Y/N was going to listen to Alina’s advice to be nice.

“That’s just a casual reminder that nothing can hide from me. And definitely not that blush on you face Y/N.”

“I am not…..”  

“Oh, you are. Is it because of me Y/N?”

“Pffff.” She scoffed and blew a raspberry. The fact was she was blushing, but the person who caused it was yet to approach them.

Tolya.

Even since she met him on the deck of Volkvolny he sparked something in her. Despite all her bad experiences and deeply hidden disgust and fright of men.

He was just different.

Y/n never knew a man who would recite poetry and be so … openly caring and romantic and courting and protective and ….

To say the least, she was a bit smitten by him.

Or maybe she was just deflecting.

But it was hard to hide that Tolya’s appearance immediately put a smile on her face.

“Are you ladies enjoying the trip?” he absentmindedly asked the exact same question as Nikolai

“I always enjoyed being in the open.” Y/N looked at him with glistening, bright eyes. Her answer, so different than before, got Nikolai pop his eyes and open his mouth wide. “Cat got your tongue, Nikolai?” she laughed lightly and it was his turn to blush. Once again, she got him speechless. And he hated that.

“Yes.” Tolya took a deep breath and closed his eyes a bit “That remind me of…..”

“Oh, no, please, do not recite the poetry again” Tamar chimed in, before her brother could say a word

“Just because you, my dear sister, cannot fully appreciate the beauty of the art, doesn’t mean that pretty lady Y/N cannot as well.”

“Pretty?” Y/N smirked. “isn’t that a little condescending?”

“It never meant to be.” The Shu man exhaled and his gaze focused on her “did you take it like that?”

“No. I don’t think I did. But still, I bet you tell that to every girl you meet.” She dared

“I haven’t met much girl lately. At least not since you, Y/N.”

“Oh….”

“is it just me or are those two openly flirting with each other?” Alina whispered to Tamar, who were barely holding back a chuckle

“Looks like it.” Tamar gasped “Wonder who’s gonna make the bigger fool of oneself.”

“Nikolai, I think. Just look at his face. Not so reserved anymore.”

“Wait. You don’t seriously think that he might…..”

“I know him longer than you, Alina. I think he does. Just wait and see….”

“I did however, have many adventures and many stories I can entertain you with, Y/N. If you’d like to listen, of course.”

“Of course!” she practically exclaimed “It would be such a relief to listen to someone who can talk about interesting  things.”

“Y/N, you mind if I have a quick word with you beforehand?” Nikolai tried his best to act casual, but it was no use.

“Told ya.” Tamar raised an eyebrow at Alina

“Um, yes, I actually do mind” Y/N tilted her head. She just loved to dare Nikolai and push him past his boundaries.

“Too bad. “ he shrugged “I am the captain. You’re on my ship. So you will listen.”

“I am not…..”

“Now.” Nikolai commanded and that harsh attitude took everyone, Y/N included, by surprise. Sturmhond was not exactly known to lose his cool and temper.

***

“What?” Y/N spat the second he closed the door to the cabin. She was not even going to hide how furious she was at him “what on saints was so important that you just couldn’t wait a while?!”

“You.”

“Me?” she frowned “what …..?”

“I don’t understand you.” he sighed “I just don’t. And believe me, I’m trying. ”

“What the…..?” she tried again, but he didn’t let her finish, taking a step forward, making her retrieve until her back hit his desk. The intense look in his eyes made her panic slightly. Saints. She was trapped. Again. With no way to hide. Suddenly her mind took her back to the past, to that barn, reminding her of her oppressors, of the past, of what happened, of how she was alone and hurting and forced to move past her trauma. “No….” her body trembled and she completely lost contact with reality, too immersed in the past “No…. please…. not again.” tears started falling down her cheeks and she sobbed desperately.

“Y/N?” Nikolai voice became alerted in a second, his gaze softening while looking at her, so broken and vulnerable. He had no idea what he did and why she acted like that. “Y/N, what happened? Hey, please, I …..” he hesitated, not sure whether to hug her or not.

“I hate you!” she cried out

“Why?” he sounded broken

“you are  just like them!”

“Like who?” this was all just too confusing for him

“Like those guys who tried to …. to…..hurt me” she shook again, hiding her face in hands and trembling again.

“Oh, love….” Now it became painfully clear and Nik could not hold back his instincts anymore, extending his arms and wrapping them around her, pulling her close, letting her cry into his chest, rubbing soothing circles on her back “I’m so sorry.” He whispered “But it’s ok. You’re safe now. No one will hurt you. Not when I’m around. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“How….how can you be like that?” she pulled back slightly, her broken gaze landing on him “How can you be so much like them with your attitude and confidence and smugness and yet, so different? I … I don’t understand it….. I ……”

“Y/N.” he smiled at her, cupping her cheek and rubbing her tears away “Look me in the eyes. Please.” she unwillingly raised her gaze and their orbs met “is that why you have been avoiding me and acting so rough and cruel? Tell me.” Nikolai said softly, not to startle her

“Yes.” She admitted, her voice shaking “that and …..”

“And what?”

“I can’t say it…..”

“Then let me.” he smiled “I fell for you. the second I saw you with your fiery eyes and sparkling eyes. The moment you slapped me down with that bad girl attitude of yours. Saints, Y/N, if I knew about…..”

“You cannot tell anyone about it!” she panicked again, struggling against his hold, but he only held her closer.

“Saints, girl! I’m telling you I love you and you keep projecting. Listen to me. Just listen.” Once again, he cupped her cheek and forced her distracted eyesight on him, the other hand resting on the small of her back. “I love you.” he simply said and somehow she knew he was telling the truth.

“You are not supposed to…..” she tried to object.

“Oh, saints!” Nikolai hissed, now completely drained of patience. He was done talking. Instead he just leaned forward and captured her lips in his. Oh, he wanted to satiate his hunger of having her, but at the same time, founding about her past made him slow down a bit. So instead of devouring her fully, he settled on moving his mouth on her slowly, softly, pouring all his feelings for her into that kiss. Trying to tell her, without using words, that whatever she may have thought about him, he cared. That he wasn’t like them. That he would never hurt her. He would protect her. He wanted her all to himself. And the sight of her flirting with Tolya turned him jealous and possessive. Hoping she would feel all that, conveyed by a kiss.

And the second he touched her, he was gone. The feel of her pressed against him, the fact that he finally, finally cold have her so close, not fighting against him, not spiting and biting and bittering was just too much for the poor boy. Prince, yes, but still, a boy in love, afraid of having his heart broken and scared of rejection, no matter how indifferent he may act.

But the way her hands immediately found a way up his arms and locked on his neck, how she moved slightly towards him, hugging and kissing him back with the same fire as he did, told him that maybe, maybe¸ those feelings were not one-sided. Saints, he could not get enough of the feeling of her lips and skin, the softness of her hair tickling his face, wishing he could just hold her like that forever, but eventually they both had to pull back for air. And when they did, he opened eyes, focusing on her beautiful face. She kept her eyes closed, breathing heavily, trying to contain everything she felt at the moment and processing it.

“Y/N….” he whispered, brushing his lips over her forehead, awaiting any words from her with his heart beating rapidly, almost out of his chest.

“I…. I think I love you too.”  She gasped, almost inaudibly, but he heard those words. The most beautiful words he could ever imagine.

“Of course you do. How could you not?” he laughed, but it was different than before. Not conceited or sarcastic, much rather laced with love, care and so much relief that she reciprocated.

“Stop ruining the moment!” she hit his arm, but smiled lightly and he couldn’t help but peck her lips again.

“do you think they know?” he asked, obviously referring to the rest of the crew

 “Who cares about them?”

“For once, I can agree with you” he pulled her closer again, the second kiss being more heated and passionate and she did not oppose to being showered in his attention and affection, not holding his desire back.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fluff #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov fic

[ivystoryweaver]

The Only One

Episode 8

prev | Fic Masterlist | My Masterlist

Summary: Your deepest, darkest secret is out. How will you handle this new attention? Who can get through to you? (I bet you can guess)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x female original character. Fic is written in second person, but the female "you" has a name (It reads basically the same as any other xreader)

Word Count: 2.1k

Content: nothing too intense - self-doubt, mild angst, slight injuries

PREVIOUSLY on "The Only One"...

Poe backed away, stunned, brushing bits of gravel from his face and hair. He thought to approach you, but stopped short at a miraculous sight.

Your hair had tumbled down, beautiful and wild, your eyes closed in concentration. Hands clenched by your sides, you held yourself still as bits of rock and earth circled you slowly.

And behind you, dark, slick wings unfurled.

As the Millennium Falcon raced to its safe destination, Poe gripped your hand tightly, through the slightest opening in the storage bay where you had hid yourself.

His thumb gently stroked yours, back and forth, steadily, reminding you to breathe in time with his ministrations.

In...out...in...and out.

"That's my girl," he would encouragingly whisper at various intervals, calmly caressing and encouraging you to breathe through each hiccup and gasp.

It was a miracle he'd got you this far. He thought he'd never get you onto this ship and off that forsaken salty rock called Crait.

Previously...

The ragtag remnant of the Resistance momentarily stopped, stunned by the vision of your dark wingspan and bits of rock circling your body.

Poe winced at the tiny scrapes littering his arms, where you had inadvertently flung gravel outward using the Force - his bare forearms the only shield for his face.

Everything that could be going wrong for a person like you was now careening off a cliff into utter disaster.

Your secret made itself known to everyone. Both secrets: the fact that you could wield the Force and the fact that you possessed demon wings.

Worse, everyone was staring at you, disbelievingly.

Worse still, there was no time for this. Kylo Ren and the First Order were surely mere minutes behind you all, following you through the hidden Rebel base in the mine.

Poe could hardly think of which fire to put out first, but he had to do something, before you panicked. You could not afford to have a panic attack right now - not with uncontrolled power such as yours. It would surely draw the wrong kind of attention - acting as a beacon for the First Order, impeding escape.

The Resistance would be finished once and for all, if you were found.

He started with your name, softly.

Your lip trembled at the sound of his voice.

Since the moment you sent rocks flying outward, you had yet to open your eyes.

"Ells," he repeated, with more urgency. "It's me. Can-can I touch your hand? Is that okay?"

Your chest heaved as reality began to take hold.

Poe ordered everyone onto the ship, hoping to disperse the crowd. Finn took notice and repeated Poe's command - the two of them realizing that Rey and Leia were sharing some sort of moment.

Something was wrong. Something greater than your display of power. You felt it too because your eyes snapped open.

"Oh no," you whispered, unable to understand that it was Master Skywalker's death rippling through the Force.

Thankfully, most everyone had boarded the Millennium Falcon by now, leaving Poe to reason with you. He nodded for Finn to join his comrades, and after concerned glances toward both you and Rey, he complied.

"Ells?" Poe repeated, reaching out for your hand. "It's just me. You okay? We have to get out of here. We have to board the ship."

Your eyes searched for Leia's. She met your gaze over Rey's shoulder during their embrace. You felt something in the Force - something painful, but you weren't strong enough to discern anything further - oblivious to the fact that Leia had just lost her twin brother.

It was then that you realized that Leia and Poe could now both see you for the demon you truly were, which made you automatically withdraw from Poe's reach.

"Come on, sweetheart," Poe coaxed, his dark eyebrows arched pleadingly. "Let's get you out of here - somewhere safe. Come on, I've got you. Just take my hand."

"No," you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. The metaphorical weight of hiding your true self combined with the literal weight of your newly unfurled wings felt like a millstone pulling you to the bottom of the deepest ocean.

Poe lowered his hand. "Come on, Ells. I won't touch you. I won't let anyone bother you. Let's go - we have to go."

You backed away, shaking your head vehemently. "No. Leave me. I'm...like them. I'm...wrong."

Poe did grip your hand then, commandingly, taking a gamble that you wouldn't freak out. That the foundation you'd built together as friends - as...hopefully more, would anchor you here - just long enough to get you on the ship.

"There's nothing wrong with you. And I'm not leaving you here," he fiercely proclaimed, trapping your hand in both of his and pulling it to his chest, urging you forward a stumbling step or two.

"No, Poe, I-I'll hurt you," you protested, breathlessly, although your body complied. "I did hurt you, like they did - like they tortured you - "

Poe squeezed your hand, touching his forehead to yours. "You're going to have to tear my arm off to keep me here. I'm not letting go, do you understand?"

Your breath trembled as you started to cry, but Poe forged ahead, appealing to your dutiful side. You seemed to take pride in following orders, performing your duties admirably. You weren't one for public accolades but a little one on one encouragement typically caused you to beam with pride.

"Get on the ship with me," he softly commanded, his breath ghosting your cheek. "That's an order."

You were nodding before you could think to protest. Something in you longed to please him - to be of use in the Resistance, even now.

Poe all but dragged you up the ramp of the Millennium Falcon - his heart shattering as you struggled to move naturally with your new wingspan - going so far as to bump one of them, causing you to hiss in pain...

...before your breath caught in your chest as you realized all over again that everyone could see the real you.

And they did stare.

"As you were," Poe ordered, waving them off. "Get to work." And he never let go of you until you were as far away from prying eyes as this crowded ship could afford.

...which is where you found yourself now, stowed in a small cargo bay with Poe's hold on your hand tender yet possessive.

His mind raced with fear -with terror, even, at how close or far behind the First Order loomed...if the remaining Resistance had even escaped unseen.

Despite many capable pilots, he yearned to be in the cockpit, in charge, or at least assisting the Jedi Rey. Which reminded him that something seemed dreadfully wrong between Rey and Leia. Poe shuddered to think of what had become of Master Skywalker.

But his duty right now was here, with you.

If he could keep you calm and breathing - if you could only make it to a safe destination - then he could help you. He could help everyone, after failing so utterly before.

But if you lashed out again, with your power - the consequences for everyone on board could be grave.

So he told you the same things over and over - to breathe, that you were safe, that everyone was safe, and the plan. Routine and reality were key for you. So he gave you everything safe and normal he could.

The Millennium Falcon touched down at a port off the beaten path, discreet, and free from First Order control. The plan was simply to refuel and gather any available supplies, including food, extra transports, fighters, ships or weapons.

Nearly every Resistance fighter dispersed as quickly and inconspicuously as possible to make this happen. Naturally, a small crew remained with the Falcon, making necessary repairs, refueling and guarding their only remaining transport.

This included the young Jedi Rey, who had grown rather attached to the ship, and, naturally, Chewbacca.

Poe found the two of you left mercifully alone for the moment. Your grip on his hand tightened to the point of pain and your eyes remained squeezed shut, as if you could keep the real world from invading your safe bubble.

"Elia...we're here. It's just you and me, okay?" Poe covered your joined hands with his free hand for good measure. "You're safe here. Say it."

Exhaling shakily, you nodded once. "I-I'm safe."

"That's right, sweetheart," he soothed, pulling your joined hands to the warmth of his chest. "We're safe, but we have to get some supplies. That's our mission. You're with me, okay? You report directly to me. Can you do that?"

"I...I can't hurt anyone," you gasped. "Need to stay right here." Fresh tears spilled out of your eyes at the pain surging through your cramped wings. You felt as safe as possible here, enclosed, with Poe to quietly reassure you, but the space was too small, in reality, for your...new body.

Poe blew out a tense breath, hoping like hell he was treating you in the way you needed - how you deserved. "I can let you stay here if you want, but first I need to know if you're hurt. I want you to tell me the truth."

You rocked back and forth a bit, trying to focus on the sound of his voice and the steady warmth of his hand - your touchstone.

Shit...Poe felt like he was losing you. Okay, new approach.

"Elia, tell me the supply list. We need to get it, but...I want make sure I don't forget anything. Tell me what's on the list," he gently directed, knowing you had that thing memorized top-to-bottom, inside-out. You could recite a great many lists and procedures verbatim, much to the slight annoyance of some of your colleagues.

But it was damn handy in a situation like this.

You answered immediately, opening your eyes and swiping at your tears with your free hand.

"Uhh...it-it's medkit, blasters, knives, rations, nav kit, thermal blanket, hooks, glowrods, stimpills..." You rattled off survival items, as well as supplies needed to restock, refuel and get to the next safe destination. By the time you finished, Poe was smiling tenderly at you, nodding encouragingly.

And by then, you were looking at him too. But, since eye contact was nearly impossible for you, your gaze wandered down to the scrapes and cuts on his forearms - the wounds caused by you.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered disbelievingly. "I'm the last person who should hurt you, Poe. You're my best friend."

"You're mine too," he soothed, reaching to trace the shape of your jaw, guiding your obsessive stare away from his cuts and back to his face. "You're hurt too. We need each other."

Your eyes darted away from his but you didn't flinch from his touch.

"I need you out there with me, Ells. Will you help me?"

Chancing a peek at his earth colored eyes, you felt, for a moment, as if he saw you - just you. Not your wings. Not your secrets, exposed, nor the danger you posed.

"I can get the supplies," you answered simply, allowing him to help you climb out of your hiding spot. Your wings provided a bit of a struggle, but Poe caught you by both arms as you stumbled into his.

As soon as you were steady, however, he backed away. "Sorry - you okay?"

You nodded, physically deflating as his eyes raked over the expanse of your wings. "Don't look at me," you uttered, all your fears exposed - a raw nerve.

Poe lowered his gaze, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, you're just...you're beautiful."

"I'm not. I'm...not. I'm dangerous. I'm a demon. But I'm not that."

Smiling wistfully to himself, Poe remembered back to your first date. "You are to me, Ells."

He noticed how you automatically reached for your backpack straps - your soothing motion, but...your backpack was destroyed, leaving your hands empty and your lip trembling.

Poe surged forward, sliding his fingers through yours, inviting you, with a tender caress to weave your worries into his skin - to push and pull and tug until you felt grounded and safe. He showed you what to do, twisting his fingers around yours, dragging his fingertips up, and back down - the motion he'd memorized as you fiddled with your straps a thousand times before.

A thousand times he wished it was him you would touch - him you would trust and depend on.

"I've got you." His breath brushed your forehead as he drew your intertwined fingers, pulling you as close as he'd ever dared.

Your eyes drifted closed once more, but this time, in relief, instead of an attempt to anchor yourself. Pushing your fingers in and out of his strong hands, around, in the same pattern memorized by your fidgeting digits - Poe's touch familiar - his smooth skin like the frayed straps, contrasting the calloused hands of a warrior, stalwart in their support of the Resistance...and of you.

And for the first time, wings and all, you laid your head on his shoulder and pressed your body against his.

Poe Dameron Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Follow @ivystoryupdates and turn on notifications to never miss an update

Join my tag list - for chaptered fics and short stories only

#the only one fic #poe dameron #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars sequels #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #oscar isaac fic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x oc #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x female oc #poe dameron fanfic #sw fic #poe dameron x female reader #poe x elia #oscar isaac characters

[tiredfox64]

Im here to offer a mavado x reader...

(I saw the one you made and here I'm feral-ing)

So another reader becoming small (now this one, you can choose how it happened, doesnt have to be potion, bro prolly made a wish to a shooting star /JOKE)

Mavado here just "shit, welp, time to smother you with my love now hehe"

Off topic: Currently drawing your oc, I'm finna get you /threat

Pequeña

Yip notes: Your timing was impeccable. I was close to panicking about something till I saw your request. Immediately my brain told me I'm not allowed to panic because I have to figure out how to do this.

Pairing: Mavado x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: mfs who are 5'2

When Mavado made a deal with Shang Tsung to get a hold of Kano he knew what he was getting himself into. He knew how deceptive the sorcerer could be. Yet he still made a deal with him so he could obtain Kano. He had to work his ass off to get that damn Black Dragon. He had to go through Sonya and Jax so he could get Kenshi. All that work to finally get Kano and torture him. However, he had to strike once the fun was done before Shang Tsung did. He sent Hsu Hao to deal with the sorcerers but got no reply. Of course, he couldn’t finish the job. Mavado had to do everything himself. Well, not fully alone. He brought you, his loyal girlfriend, to finish the job with him. He suspected Shang Tsung would have Quan Chi with him and could not risk dealing with a 2 v 1 situation.

His prediction was right. Both of the sorcerers were expecting Mavado but not you. You and your boyfriend put up a good fight. Mavado was skilled with the hookswords he stole from Kabal. You barely had to do any work.

This was a losing battle for Shang Tsung and Quan Chi. In an attempt to escape, Quan Chi decided to target you. He wasn’t focused on whichever spell he cast it just had to distract Mavado. You heard Quan Chi chant and as you went to face him you felt something hit your stomach, causing you to fly back. Mavado immediately turned around to check on you, only to see a cloud of toxic green smoke consuming you. It gave Quan Chi enough time to grab Shang Tsung and make their escape. Though Mavado lost his targets he had other matters to be concerned about. He ran over to you and tried to wave the smoke away. He couldn’t find you, not a limb or strand of hair to hint at your body still being there. But once the smoke cleared he was surprised.

You were alive but you’re…small. As small as a rat.

He knew things were going too well. Something bad was bound to happen.

He crouched down to get a better look at you. You stared up at him with big, sad eyes. He couldn’t tell if you were tearing up because of the situation or if the smoke burned your eyes.

“Am I in trouble?” You asked in a small voice.

“We are in trouble. This is not on you surprisingly.”

I don’t know what he meant by that.

Your mind hasn’t adapted to the situation so you were horrified and confused. He tried to grab you but you were so confused about what he was about to do that you decided to dodge him. Mavado doesn’t need you doing this but you have little control over the situation. He had to snatch you with both hands, trapping your arm to the side of your body and your legs dangling. You heard your boyfriend sigh before saying,

“Always so difficult.”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

“Yes, I can see that she is small.” Daegon pointed out the obvious.

“Can’t you do anything to fix this mess?” Mavado asked.

“I am a demigod, not a miracle worker. I cannot be bothered to fix this while my brother is out there. He is a bigger issue than your little girlfriend,” pun intended, “If I know anything about sorcerers when they are in a panic, Quan Chi’s spell won’t last forever. This is not permanent.”

Mavado let out a sigh of relief but also annoyance. For once he was not happy with the Edenian but what could he do. If Daegon’s words were true that means this will all be over at some point. When that moment comes is the true concern. He doesn’t have an issue with you being small. It’s kind of funny and cute. He’s more concerned about you getting hurt by something or someone. You’re his girlfriend, he cares about you. You’re the only other thing he prioritizes other than his clan.

Since Daegon isn’t telling Mavado to do anything or go after Taven, he’ll keep his eyes on you most of the time. What else could he do?

He still had you in his hands and he decided to mess with you. You ain’t gonna do anything. You’re not gonna jump off his hands. He took this opportunity to squish your cheeks which you never let him do. He used his middle finger and thumb to squish both of your cheeks. You whined and told him to stop but did he? Nah. He just laughed at your futile attempts to push him away. Your tiny hands were unable to save you.

“You’re so pathetic. But I love you anyway.” He said before kissing you on the top of your head. That one kiss alone messed up your hair.

Now what could Mavado do with you? He’s never dealt with a tiny human before. Nobody has. He took a moment to think of how to keep you safe but not bore you. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize he positioned you in front of his chest area. Your mind is a battlefield that you sometimes lose to. This means your impulsive thoughts come into play and you listen to them.

In short, you grabbed onto his chest hair and yanked on it. You’ve never heard him whimper in pain before. He almost crushed you in his hands because of your little stunt. He grabbed you by the back of your shirt and brought you up to his face. He did not look happy. His eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance. Huh, how have you never noticed the scars on his right eyebrow? It looks good on him.

“What have I told you about touching my chest?” Mavado asked in the calmest voice he could provide.

“…don’t yank on your chest hair.”

“And that rule still applies while you’re small.” With his other hand he used his fingers to give you the lightest flick to your forehead that he could do.

This sure will be a journey for him and you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Don’t let your judgment be clouded by Mavado’s good looks. He may be your boyfriend but he is still cruel. He’s cruel in a loving way.

Now there is a reward system at play. An eye for an eye, a trade for a trade.

You want some food because you haven’t eaten since the morning? Don’t worry, Mavado will feed you, after you do something for him. You have to give him a kiss for each piece of food. The worst part is he is stingy. Here’s a bit of bread, now give him a kiss. Here’s a singular black bean, give him another kiss. Again and again, that was how your dinner went until you were full. He just likes having some control of you and feeling your little kisses on his face.

How bout a nap? A nap after a good meal is needed. Or at least Mavado needs a nap after the bs he dealt with.

You had no choice. You tried to run off the table but his arms surrounded you and trapped you close to him. He placed his head down on the table and dragged your body so that you were trapped between his cheek and arm. You struggled with all your might but you’re just wasting your energy. He told you to stop already and that your movements were awkward against his arm. You let out a sigh before accepting that there was no use. Might as well take a nap with him. You snuggled against his face, feeling his stubble scratch you. The warmth of his body calmed you till you fell asleep.

That was a good thirty minutes of sleep before Daegon slammed his fist against the table. Both you and Mavado were alerted and you were almost flung into the air when Mavado jumped up. He was about to throw down an electromagnetic mine before Daegon yelled at him.

“Throw that mine down and you will not live another day!” He grumbled something inaudible before continuing, “I need you to go. Taven is too close to us and I need him eliminated now.”

Mavado wanted to ask what he should do with you but Daegon was already on the move. He can’t leave you alone. Anything could happen to you. But bringing you along would be just as dangerous. Hmmm

…

You saw him look at his trench coat, specifically the inside. Well, would you look at that! There’s a pocket on the inside. How convenient. Without much discussion, he picked you up and placed you in the pocket. You’re as snug as a bug in there.

“I can’t promise you won’t get hurt but I need you to be strong for me. Do you think you could do that?” He asked.

You gave him a thumbs up. He kissed the top of your head before concealing you. He took off running, doing his duties for his clan. Just don’t pull on his chest hair again while you’re hiding.

“Ah! Stop pulling!”

What did I just say?!

Yap notes: Every time I do something for you I get a bloody nose. I don't know why and I don't know how. But I think if I don't finish something for you I'll keep bleeding. Only now does everything about me feel better. So your threats are real I think even though they are for my oc. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #mavado x you #mavado x reader #mavado mk1 #mk1 mavado #mk mavado #mortal kombat mavado #mavado mk #mavado mortal kombat #mavado #very headcanony I’m sorry #when are we getting Daegon and Taven back?

[4acoffee]

A voice in the back of his head tells him that he's never cared before exactly how many words a girl says to him, and he promptly tells said voice to shut the fuck up.

pairing. bakugou x reader

word count. 2.8k words

genre & warnings. fluff, pining but he doesn't realize it, baku in some serious denial, swearing (lot's)

notes. jusus FUCKING christ. im SO glad to be done with this you have no idea. It's been in the works for like three months I'm so done with this fic. pls lemme know if u like it if this flops ill cry. also sorry i havn't posted in like forever im a loser i know.

Katsuki Bakugou does not have crushes.

Crushes, were for stupid schoolboys and stupid girls.

Like you.

Yea, — if anyone had a crush, it had to be you. That's why you only smiled at him when he was looking at you. It's why you never tried to make eye-contact with him during class. It's why you never talk to him outside of class, and always walk on the other side of the hallway, and laugh at shitty hair's lame jokes.

There's no way someone like him, would like anyone like you.

Raccoon eyes was an idiot for even putting such an absurd thought in his head.

And it all started because he ran out of those stupid pencils.

Which was those dumbass's fault too. That week, dunce face broke all his pencils trying to do a ghost summoning trick in class and begged him to let him borrow one of his pencils. Which was annoying, but not a big deal because he's Katsuki and he was always fucking prepared.

But then, raccoon eyes lost her shit at the ugly grape fuck during class, and accidentally dissolved her only pencil in a fit of rage. Which meant he lost another one to her.

And then that same week, shitty hair was testing his strength on pencils, snapping them in half with and without his quirk, so he lost five pencils to his useless antics.

So by the time Friday rolled around, he had just one mechanical pencil left to get him through the day. Which would have been fine, ― if he didn't run out of lead right in the middle of fucking English class.

Now, he could have asked the teacher for a pencil, but she was this dusty, old hag, and Katsuki was known in his class for aggravating her to the point where her veins popped out on her face, and she would screech at him like a mad banshee. And Katsuki would rather pull out his own nails and stick them in his eyeballs like push-pins, than face the lecture she would no doubt give him if she found out he had come to class "unprepared".

So now, he was stuck, pissed off at everyone, multiple writing assignments to finish, a professor who never liked him, zero patience, and completely lacking in pencils.

Fuck his life.

And the day would have only gotten worse, if it wasn't for you.

He doesn't know how you knew that he needed a pencil. Then again, since you so clearly liked him, you must have been watching him all the time. You must have seen the miffed look on his face and noticed how he was furiously clicking his pencil for any lead.

Most people who didn't know him personally tended to steer clear of him for the most part. So needless to say, he was mildly surprised when small, quiet, you — tapped his desk with your little ink covered fingers.

You never spoke out much in class, and Katsuki only knew you as the voiceless girl who sat next to him in class and constantly kept at least one earbud in, drawing on your hands or doodling on the corner of your paper when the teacher was talking.

He figured it would be a miracle if you were even passing this class.

But when he turned to you with narrowed eyes, you held his gaze carefully, and held out a new pencil to him.

At first, he's less than pleased, ― Katsuki wasn't gonna just accept help from some random extra.

But you shook the pencil at him, urging him to take it, and he once again meets your eyes, ― long enough to realize that you had to be one of the prettiest girls he's ever met.

Brilliant, and mildly amused, your gaze held a sense of thinly veiled curiosity that peeked through the serene look on your face, the sun peeking out behind you cast small shadows down the curve of your cheeks from your eyelashes and, and ―

― and he had been staring for way to long.

Scowling, he snatched the pencil out of your grasp and turned to his assignment, pretending to read the instructions. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you curl over your own paper and get back to work.

For the rest of class, he stole small, fleeting glances at your focused form.

He decided that he absolutely hated the way your hair looked glossy and soft in the light filtering through the window. And the way you tapped your foot on the floor to the beat of whatever music you listened to, and the intricate designs you often drew on your hands, slightly smudged where your fingers held your own pencil.

The bell signaling the end of class snapped him out of his stupor and he angrily stood up, sending his chair back with the force and shoving papers in his bag.

He's half way down the hallway to his next class when he realizes he's still holding your pencil.

He stares down at it with a glare and considers throwing it in the trash for a second.

Your face pops in his head for a second, (rather rudely, and unnecessarily if he might add), and he grimaces before shoving it haphazardly somewhere behind him in his bag.

.

The next day, Bakugou stomps over to class, fully restocked with his own pencils.

He sits down in his usual seat and glances at you without thinking. You were reading the board at the front of the class, but you turned your head to him when you felt his gaze on you.

His slouching position immediately straightened at a backbreaking speed like a soldier at attention.

Instantly, he wanted to howitzer himself into the next dimension.

What was he so damn jumpy for??

He fixed you with a defensive glare, like his ears didn't feel so annoyingly hot, "What!? Hah? I don't need your stupid pencils today. " he bit out.

You squinted at him, and his annoyance only heightened when he noticed the way your lips twitched upwards in amusement.

Did you think he was fucking funny or something?

"Ah, ― ok." You replied.

He twitched in his seat as he watched you turn your attention away from him and to something on your phone.

That was it?

That was fucking it?

He accepts your help one time and suddenly you can't spare him more than a fucking two word reply?

A voice in the back of his head tells him that he's never cared before exactly how many words a girl says to him, and he promptly tells said voice to shut the fuck up.

He glowers for the rest of class and makes it a point to not even glance in your general direction.

It works more or less to his favor, until he starts seeing you show up around him and everywhere outside of his class.

The moment he sees your eyes turn in his direction in the hallways, he swivels his head away so fast he nearly gets whiplash from the force.

Your outside after school waiting for a ride and he scowls when you don't even look up at him from your phone when he walks stiffly in front of you.

He catches you make icy hot crack a smile with some stupid joke in the lunch line and he almost combusts into a nuclear explosion on the spot when you ruffle his hair affectionately. How, and why the fuck were you acting so familiar with that damn candy-cane bastard?

The annoying voice in his head from earlier prompts him to go and place himself between the two of you, ― a physical divider, ― but he immediately brushes it off again. He chastises himself for even allowing such ridiculous thoughts enter his head over a useless extra like you.

Unfortunately, Katsuki in time comes to find that you’re not as useless as you seem.

As raccoon-eyes eventually manages to drag you into their tight knit group of friends, he begrudgingly realizes that there is much more to you than just ink covered fingers and pretty eyes.

Your one of the top students at the school. Picking up things easily, you don't pay much attention in school because you prefer to and work better doing things in your own time. You, however, make a horrible teacher, and any attempts to tutor his so called friends into shape, end in more jokes cracked than brains, and it's all too easy for you to dissolve into half giggles and smart remarks with them.

Your also, a little shit, he discovers, much to his chagrin.

"I still can't believe you go to bed at 8:30 like an old man."

The sly gleam of your eye when you join forces with his friends to tease him makes him want to slap his hands directly over your stupid eyes because he hates the way he's so automatically drawn to them.

And that stupid fucking twitch of your lips whenever he speaks to you. Like your trying to hold back a smile. Why the fuck do you do that. The fuck is wrong with you. Just smile like a normal person dammit.

So fucking distracting.

Especially when he began bringing you new, colorful pens for you to draw with for when yours ran out of ink. And the wipes he keeps stored in his bag for the teachers that kept threatening to email your parents if they saw you drawing on yourself during class.

God, you had to be the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

Which he swears is the only thought running through his head as he sits next to you at the library with his chin in his hands.

Definitely nothing having to do with the fading sun weaving through your hair in strands of gold, or the plush of your lips when you bite into them distractedly.

And your godamn eyes. Calm, sweet little almond eyes, so, ― pretty.

(Seriously, when the fuck did he start using words like "pretty").

It takes him a second to sense that said eyes were now focused on him. Unwavering and almost downright pleased in a way that made his hands clam up and saliva build up in his mouth.

"Hey Bakugou, you in there?" You ask cheekily.

He bites back a snarl, "Fuck off, tiny."

You raise your hands in mock surrender. "Ok, Ok, ― just making sure we didn't lose you into the void, you were looking pretty intense there."

"Shuddup I was just thinking."

"About me?"

"No, what the fuck?!" He yells, ignoring the librarian who sent him a stern look from her desk.

You snicker and he almost jolts out of his seat when you scoot your chair way too close to him.

You jostle his feet under the table and he kicked back impulsively. What he wasn't expecting, was for you to purposefully tangle your legs together, pulling yourself to the very edge of your seat.

Suddenly your face is right in front of his and he stiffens when you twist your fingers into the sleeve of his school uniform.

"Aw, you don't like me then?"

He absolutely hates the way he can hear the blood pumping into his ears.

"No, I fucking hate you. You're the worst."

"..."

"Oh."

Suddenly, you turn your eyes away from him and to your lap, lowering your eyebrows. Your lips fall into a deep pout that leaves him wanting to smush your cheeks together in his hands.

You look utterly crestfallen.

"That's kinda mean yunno." You say to him softly. "I really thought you liked me Bakugou."

He blinks at you in alarm.

He wasn't actually expecting you to take him seriously. You never do any other time. You knew there was hardly ever any real malice behind his words to his friends.

Right?

"It's ok if you don't, I understand. But, uh, I'm gonna go home now." You say quietly, without meeting his eyes.

Shit, ― he thought.

Did I, actually go too far?

You remove your fingers from his sleeve and make to grab your things to leave.

He panics, he couldn't let you go like this!

Frantically, he grabs your hand and pulls you close to him.

"The fuck are you talking about?! Are you that stupid?"

You look at him sullenly and try to pull away. He doesn't let go, but stands up to keep you pushed against the table.

Katsuki is reeling at the feeling of your skin under his, but tries to keep himself focused on the situation.

"Of course I fucking like you, dumbass." He nearly growls without looking at you face.

"I always buy you shit and make you food don't I? You think I'd spend my money and time on ya' if I didn't like you." Katsuki says simply.

"Thoughtcha' already knew you were my favorite." He mutters.

He looks up at you and freezes on the spot.

You have the most shit-eating look he's ever seen on your face and he later swears left and right to himself that he spots the slightest flush spreading across your cheeks.

You're goddamn eyes are once again so damn bright and he can barely process anything else with the way you're smiling at him.

"Bakugou,―i'm your favorite?!" You blurt out.

"I knew it! I can't believe I got you to admit it!!" You said horribly happily.

Katsuki stares at you in disbelief. Was that all a fucking act?

Your positively glowing now and Katsuki wants nothing more than to slap himself for falling for your stupid tricks again. How fucking dare you use your goddamn face against him like that. You were just playing with his feelings at this point.

He's about to tear his hand off your arm in a fit of anger when you pause you giggling and suddenly grab him by the collar of his uniform and bring his ear right next to your lips.

"Yunno, ― your my favorite too ok? Don't forget that." You whisper conspiratorially.

Your breath on his skin makes him nearly tremble, and he just knows that you can feel how hot his face his when you press your lips to his cheek in a chaste kiss before pulling away to grab your things and disappear just as quickly.

Katsuki is sure that he probably looks like he just got hit by a truck.

A dazed grin makes it's way onto his face that he desperately tries to hold back, but fails as his fingers brush the spot where your lips just were.

All at once the feeling fades when his eyes meet the absolutely delighted looks of his friends from across the library.

They make all sorts of kissy faces and obscene gestures that has his face looking the same color as his ruby eyes.

He scowls deeply and turns to make his way angrily out of the library.

As he passes a window, he pauses when he catches sight of your figure walking across the campus.

Ink-covered fingers pressed to your lips.

-

If there's one thing most people don't know about Bakugou's friends, it's just how perceptive they really are. Their normally aloof and carefree behavior seems to veil the fact that they are indeed future heroes and they have trained to be finely tuned to each others behavior.

So it didn't take long for them to notice a shift in the actions of their angry blonde buddy.

It took even less time to connect the dots to you.

And naturally, ― they began scheming.

Perhaps not scheming per say, ― as they watched Bakugou zone out in your direction for the nth time that day at the library, Mina smacked Denki over the head one day for using that word.

"We're not scheming anything Denks." she whispered.

"Then why are we whispering?" He muttered back, rubbing his head with a grimace.

She sighed deeply and massaged her temples.

"We just need a way to get him to realize that he's feeling an emotion outside of acute bloodlust and anger for once." she explained.

"So then what, do we like, plot an intervention or something?" Sero supplied.

Mina, for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, with great effort, resisted the urge to send an acid quirk infused slap in his way.

Sensing this, Kirishima was quick to pipe in, "C'mon guys, nothing like that, Bakubro just need a little push in the right direction, is all."

Mina nodded in approval.

"Blasty's smart, he'll understand what needs to be done once he works out his feelings. Hopefully."

A mummer of understanding passed through most of the group.

Sitting up straight and cracking her knuckles, Mina whipped out a pen and piece of paper like a weapon, "Alright boys, don't worry, your girls got just the plan."

Kaminari made a face like he just struck gold.

"Ohhhh! Okay. So we're planning an intervention."

"For FUCKS SAKE―"

masterlist

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bnha x reader #bakugou #coffee's fics #mha x reader #x reader #katsuki x reader #mha #bnha #bnha fanfic #mina ashido #bnha katsuki x reader #bnha x fem!reader #katsuki bakugou #bnha imagines #kirishima