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bloompompom · 1 year

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Count to Ten

In which you gift your husband a Polaroid camera, granting him exactly ten opportunities to take whatever pictures he wants of you.

♡ content: ~4k word count. eren jaeger x female reader. modern/domestic au, established relationship, porn without plot, consenting sexy photos, oral sex (f!receiving & brief m!receiving), body worship, mentions of reader wearing a dress, mentions of spit, pet names, alcohol, eren's a punk but we love him anyway, mushy fluff? idk i think it's cute. ♡ a/n: this has been rotting my brain for weeks so i finally had to bestow this filth upon you, enjoy.

You and Eren had been together for a while now. Married for one year to the day—happy anniversary to you!—and dating much longer than that. So while, yes, today was a big day, it wasn’t as though you hadn’t celebrated countless anniversaries before.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t want to make it special. Of course you did, who wouldn’t? There was more than enough reason to celebrate. You were soul-mated, bursting to the seams, positively buzzing with love. Humming and twirling like Cinderella while doing chores as menial as folding dryer-fresh bath towels.

Cynics would say you were still wandering in the mooniness of new marriage, but you’d argue that had long worn off. Living together, seeing each other at your very worst—chilled, snotty-nosed, curled in sticky, feverish bedsheets—and peeing with the bathroom door wide open didn’t really leave much mystique there, did it?

Or, on the flip side, perhaps it was more apt to say the honeymoon phase never truly ended. The spark never died, the fun never faded, because your husband (Husband! You were still getting used to that) would rather die than let that happen.

You never had to worry about Eren forgetting your anniversary. If anything, he was always one to go over the top if you didn’t reign him in every once in a while. Which was the exact reason you told him you only wanted to go out for dinner, just the two of you, at that fancy-schmancy place—as he liked to call it—downtown.

Keeping in mind that Eren was the type to overdo it, you had a not-so-sneaking hunch he’d buy you a present, no matter how many times you insisted he didn’t need to. In preparation for just that, you planned something. Little, hidden up your sleeve, but all for him.

You were good about sealing your lips, too, despite the gift arriving at your porch days ahead of schedule. You didn’t even drop a single hint when he greeted you after work that evening, the same huge smile on his face as always—“Hi, beautiful!”—squeezing you in those big arms.

And they said marriage, especially the first year, was hard work.

Eren made the dinner reservation, just as you requested, and you managed to hold onto your secret until you returned home for the night, bellies full, with faces warmed and tingly from expensive wine.

“A Polaroid camera?” Eren questioned. He was as delicate about it as he could be—you know, for someone who had never been delicate about anything in his entire life.

A confused smile, though a smile nonetheless, twitched at the corner of his mouth. You could practically see the gears shifting in his head, like he was trying to recall a time he may have mentioned an interest in photography. He did have a habit of starting (and dropping) new hobbies on a near-monthly basis.

Traditionally, the theme for a first-anniversary gift was paper. In a roundabout way, photo paper counted. At least, that was what you told yourself when you bought it.

Paper was supposed to represent a blank slate, ready to be slathered with memories of your new life together. And that was nice and all, but you had another idea in mind for using up the film.

Eren held the camera in his hands. It was already freed from its original packaging, sitting lonely in the box you had wrapped while he was at work.

You inched closer to him on the couch while he inspected it, perching on your knees to drape your arms over his broad shoulders. You ran your hands down the front of his shirt, his toned chest beneath your fingertips. You did it slowly, like you were insinuating something, but Eren couldn’t begin to guess what. You caught the intrigued look on his face as you peered over his shoulder.

You brushed some loose hair behind his ear and kissed his cheek. Eren noted the grin in your voice as you whispered, “I’ve already loaded it with film.” You kissed the spot below his ear, felt the shudder it gave him. “I thought we could use it together.” His neck was next, where his pulse throbbed beneath your lips. “However you’d like. Whenever you’d like.” You moved his shirt’s collar out of the way, trailing your lips lower. “But don’t forget, there are only ten photos, and once you’re out, you’re out.”

It was something for him and him alone. Tucked away in his bedside drawer for those times—though few and far between—when he was left missing you. Sure, you could always text him a photo; you had done so before. But this was different. More personal. Tangible proof that he could hold between his fingers and know you were irrevocably his.

Truthfully, Eren was tempted to ask right then and there if he could keep his favorite in his wallet—whichever photo that may be, the anticipation was ruining him already—but he didn’t want to test his luck yet.

You were glad you decided to hold off exchanging gifts until after dinner. Otherwise, there was no way you would have made your reservation. You didn’t even get the chance to open your present. Not that you minded, obviously. The cute little box sat ignored on the coffee table as Eren tugged you onto his lap. You straddled him as he made out with you, your dress riding higher and higher up your thighs. His hands smoothed from the small of your back to your revealed shoulder blades. His palms, hot and already commanding, pressed you against him, and you let his tongue swipe past your lips.

It was his own Eren-esque way of thanking you for the gift. He’d undoubtedly say it a million times later; you could predict it already. It was just that he was a little occupied right now, what with you helplessly grinding against him and all.

He was already hard by the thought of what he could have you do for him—for the camera. Fuck, you could feel it too, your clothed pussy rutting against him, making a mess of the front of his dress pants as you whimpered into his mouth. It was a gift for him, but you vastly underestimated just how much it’d turn you on as well, knowing how fiercely he craved you, every part of you.

Eren wanted nothing more than to take you then. And he could have, but he’d rather have you strewn beneath him on your soft bed. He wanted to bask in you. The expanse of you, bare, and ready for him. Then, he could snap a photo, freeze time, and savor the sight of you forever.

But was it too soon to take the first photo? Already, Eren was worried about running out of film, and he hadn’t even put a finger to the button. It was a gift, but it might as well have been a curse, and he was sure that was your intention. Even so, he couldn’t take it anymore. All at once, Eren whisked you to your shared bedroom and stripped you from your dress.

It wasn’t long before Eren settled on what was worthy of his first photograph. He wished to capture the very moment he pushed inside you. The look on your face you always wore—the tiny ‘o’ your mouth made, the quirk of your brows—right when he stretched you on his cock. His absolute favorite, even years later (Really, how lucky were you that he was still this obsessed with you?) By now, he had it memorized, that heavenly expression that’d grace your features, lasting no longer than a blink of an eye but now something he could look at ceaselessly. Over and over and over again.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take his sweet time with you. No, he wouldn’t let you get off that easily, knowing you were teasing him when you reminded him there were only ten photos.

Eren kissed you deeply with one hand wrapped around the back of your neck. His lips were smooth and slow, thoughtful, kissing you in a way he knew would leave you desperate. He would have you begging for it—for him—before he’d give you just a single drop. He’d wait as long as he deemed necessary, expertly timing his photo to preserve that angelic look you get—the rapturous mix of relief, pleasure, and a desire for more.

You tasted him and the bottle of red wine you shared over dinner. He was sweet on the back of your tongue. You were dizzy, your head thrown back into the feathery pillows as his lips left yours to kiss the side of your face. He dawdled there, hot breath fanning over your ear as he lightly took the lobe of it between his teeth. You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth as his mouth traveled to your neck next. Then the dip of your collarbone and between your breasts.

He peeled your bra off, one strap at a time, wasting no time to lift you to undo the clasp at your back. He licked and nipped at the sensitive skin. The cool bedroom air stood in a woozy contrast to the gentle heat of his mouth. He ran his large hand down your side, comforting your squirming as he flicked your perked nipple with his tongue. You were always so sensitive. It was something he liked best about you.

You felt the sear of it when his lips curled into a smile against your skin. Smug already because you were practically panting, hips writhing beneath him, and he hadn’t even reached for your underwear.

Eren knew you’d gift him the loveliest face when he finally sank inside you, where only he could reach. The bliss that’d wash over you once he tamed the ache between your legs—your gorgeous fucking legs. He slipped your panties down your thighs, wondering if it would be weird if he took a photo of them.

“God, Eren,” you whispered. It was ragged, nothing more than a hobbled breath. “Please.”

A lazy smile tugged at his lips. “Please, what?”

He hovered over you, pressed his forehead to yours. He didn’t just want to hear it but feel it, taste it, when you spoke it into his mouth—when you asked him, with that satiny voice of yours, to please fuck you.

You realized what he was after when he reached for the camera, almost lost in the tangle of clothes and sheets. Eren held himself with one hand planted in the mattress, the tip of his cock laying at your entrance. He angled back to aim the camera straight at your face. Behind it was the signature smirk you knew all too well. Before you could comment, he tilted his hips, filling you in one powerful thrust.

He predicted it, down to the very shape of your mouth. And right when your eyes fluttered shut—flash—it was bright behind your lids.

One down. Nine to go.

You thought Eren would toss the camera aside, fuck you like you wanted him to, but he did the opposite. He immediately pulled out and sat back on his knees, somehow more riveted by the photo than the real you, naked and needy below him. Seriously?

You propped yourself on your elbows with a pout. “Can’t this wait?”

“I wanna see it. It’ll just be a second,” he said, waving the photo in the air.

“I don’t think that does anything.”

He ignored you, impatiently inspected the picture—still developing—then waved it around some more. He didn’t even notice when you perked higher, leaning into him, stealing his attention the only way you knew how.

Yup the camera—and the hazy photo, for that matter—were soon forgotten. Tossed aside the moment you wrapped your dainty fingers around his shaft. You pumped his cock with one hand as you swirled your tongue over his tip, taking him past your wetted lips.

A groan strained from him once your lusty eyes gazed up into his. He had no choice but to reach for the camera again, even in his clouded state with his cock down your throat. How could he not? You looked so magnificent, just like this. Hollowed cheeks, blown-out pupils, swollen lips working up and down his length.

But he’d make it up to you of course. He still needed to thank you for the gift, after all. And once you heard the click of the camera, he did just that, giving you all the attention you deserved.

The third photo, in hindsight, was one you should have seen coming from a mile away, given Eren’s boyish tendencies. If you were to guess, you thought he would have snapped a photo while you were sleeping. An unflattering picture of you with a flailing arm over your head or drool on your pillow—something along those lines.

Oh, don’t worry, he considered it. Eren was actually thisclose to going through with it, thinking it’d be funny to slide you the picture when you least expected it, but he restrained himself. He did take one with his phone, though.

Another, much better, idea popped into his head. He didn’t even need to wait that long, just until you woke up for your morning shower.

Picture it—no pun intended: The metallic slinking of the shower curtain ripping open. The humiliating sound that escaped you, living somewhere between a shriek and a choke. And the snap of that damned camera you were really regretting buying.

“Eren!”

You were surprised you stayed upright, your heart beating so fast you surely thought it had hopped into your throat. You swore it then: there was no doubt this man would be the death of you. Especially with his stupid snickering, steadfast even as you sprayed him with the showerhead.

It was more of a prank than anything. A harmless one at that, if you asked Eren. But prank or not, past the water running down your face, your expression scrunched, he couldn’t help that his eyes lingered on your chest. Nor was it his fault that he happened to catch you before you’d rinsed off, your tits barely hidden behind suds and bubbles. And, well….

“Absolutely not!” you rebuked when he tried to join you, all smooth-like, as if that didn’t just happen. And when you yanked the curtain shut, Eren retreated to the kitchen, giggling to himself while he fixed your morning coffee, exactly how you liked it, in his attempt to get back on your good side.

It was another few days before Eren reminded you of that damned camera’s existence. On a Sunday evening of all days, when you were least expecting it. Okay, maybe the shower incident claimed that title, but this was an extremely close second.

Earlier, you had told him you planned to watch the newest season of your favorite show, uninterrupted. It had just dropped, and you wanted to squeeze in as many episodes as possible before bed. He didn’t seem to think much of it—even said he’d come and join you at some point. That is, until you passed one another in the hallway.

“You can’t do this to me, babe,” Eren groaned, almost a complaint but more like a whine, as if you were purposefully doing something to spite him.

The soft smile you greeted him with drooped.

“Do what?” you asked, plopping onto the couch and snuggling between its cushions.

Eren shot you a look, his head cocked to the side—‘Come on already’—like you couldn’t possibly be serious.

But it was an honest question. The only thing you had done in the last thirty seconds was walk by him on your merry way back from the kitchen, oversized snack bowl in hand and filled to the brim, clad in one of his old tees and a pair of underwear—

Oh.

Eren turned to leave the room, and you just got this feeling.

You set the bowl on the end table and called for him in a drone of annoyance. “Don’t tell me you’re getting the Polaroid.”

He shouted back, “You know it,” and by the sound of it, he was already halfway to the bedroom where he kept it.

He returned just as hastily as he disappeared, camera in hand. Surprise, surprise.

You bit back your amused smile as you watched him sink to his knees on the floor before you. He traced a hand up the length of your thigh, toying with the band of your underwear with his fingertips.

“Let’s get these out of the way,” he said in that low voice you loved—the one you always felt in your chest, like the thrum of a bass.

“Right now?” you questioned, despite raising your hips once he hooked your panties around his fingers. You shimmied, helping Eren slither them down your legs until they hung at your ankle before flopping to the floor.

“You said whenever I wanted, didn’t you?” he teasingly reminded. You made a face, and it pulled a chuckle from under his breath. “And I still have seven photos left.”

You couldn’t fight off your grin. It was coquettish and bashful as he beamed up at you, eyes darkened and dreamy, like his entire world was between your thighs.

Eren had you lay back into the corner of the couch. He closed a hand around your ankles, one by one, bending your legs at the knee to place your feet onto the cushions—spreading you for him. The only decency left between you was his baggy shirt.

“Hold it out of the way for me, baby. I wanna see you.”

You lifted the hem of it to expose your bare pussy to him.

Fucking perfect. “Yeah, like that.” He got this cheesy look on his face, pointing the camera to capture all of you, fully on display. “Now, smile.”

Part of you wanted to kick the smirk right off his face. But you’d never do that; you were so weak to him, a flouncy giggle leaving you as your husband tickled at your side. You couldn’t help that it was entirely endearing, not to mention flattering, that he found you, even like this, deeply irresistible.

“Gotcha,” he boasted with the snap of the shutter.

Unlike the first time, he abandoned the camera immediately. Wholly unable to contain himself—captivated by you splayed before him, at face-level, like that—he looped his arms around your thighs. He pulled you closer, your legs slipping from the couch and comfortably onto his shoulders.

“God, I fucking love you,” he breathed, intended for you but spoken right between your legs, his eyes fixed there. He licked you once with no warning, no teasing, only his tongue swiping through you. “You gonna let me return the favor since you were so good for the camera?”

A sharp gasp escaped you, like a hiss, and your head lolled back between your shoulders. You bobbed your head in an eager yes, and he lapped at you a few more times. Slow and wet strokes of his tongue before he focused on your clit. Kissing it, flicking a pointed tongue against it, kindling the fire in the low part of your stomach. Your breathing quickened.

The more you wiggled, the firmer his grip on you, the blunt of his nails burrowing into your thighs. You noticed the sting of it when he released your right thigh.

Eren took your hand into his and laid it on the camera at your side. His mouth only left you to say, “I want you to take a picture. One of your face. Can you do that for me?”

He kissed the crease of your inner thigh, his breath hot on your skin, but you felt it glow at the base of your spine.

“Take it right when I make you come, okay?”

The plea in his voice, the honeyed coo of it—it softened you. No, it absolutely melted you. It wasn’t demanding in the slightest but a needful, urgent request.

Eren knew how much you loved when he went down on you; you always made that very clear with those sweet, tiny moans of yours. He was always ready, willing, and more than happy to oblige, but he could admit he hated missing out on your face when you came on his tongue. He wanted to learn it for himself, see how you looked with your head thrown back in ripples of pleasure. And he wanted to have it forever, for safekeeping.

He only continued where he left off once you agreed and took the camera between your hands. Eren worked his way back to the pace you liked, steadily at first, kissing and making out with your pussy until he sucked at your clit with plush lips. And when he added the tip of his tongue, your stomach started to coil.

Selfishly, you thought he looked like he was meant to be there. Handsome as ever, his dazy, green eyes bright against the flushed hue of his cheeks. You lifted a hand to his head, brushing the curtain of hair from his face.

“I’m going to take one of you,” you giggled airly. You angled the camera toward Eren, the lewd sight of him worshipping between your legs.

As if you had yanked a fire alarm, he immediately stopped what he was doing.

“Don’t,” he exclaimed. He turned the camera away from him. “It was my gift, remember?”

You rolled your eyes but conceded only because you really wanted him to continue. He wasn’t above toying with you, if that wasn’t obvious enough already.

Eren closed his mouth over your pussy. He was sloppy about it, spitting and spreading it over you with the flat of his tongue.

You let the camera fall beside you, hands twitching and tensing like you needed to grab ahold of something—him, the Polaroid, your last smidgen of sanity—you didn’t know what. That iron-hot coil in your stomach wound and clenched. Closer and closer to coming undone, you rolled over his tongue, him encouraging you as he moved your hips with you.

“Come for me, baby.” It was a slurry of words, a wet mumble against you. Every syllable was another vibration through you, bringing you to the very edge.

You picked up the camera with shaky arms.

“Make it real pretty for me,” he told you.

You didn’t want to imagine what sort of contorted face you would make, and you wouldn’t dare peek at the photo later, but you aimed the lens at your face anyway. It was his anniversary gift, after all—one you thought of, at that. No going back now, so you might as well make sure he got the most out of it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted, eyes screwed shut.

“It’s a photo, not a video,” he taunted as your whimpers grew louder.

“Fuck off, Eren,” you whined into your breathy moan of an exhale. You laced a hand in his pretty brown hair and pushed his loud mouth back between your legs.

You came then, hard, cursing and crying out your husband’s name. It was a miracle you could even snap the photo. But you did, and you chucked the camera aside, unconcerned as to where it might land.

The feeling was overwhelming—nearly too much. As you twisted away from his mouth, Eren knew it was his cue to bring you closer, to pull you down onto his tongue the way you wanted him to. His grasp on you was firm, but his thumb drew soothing circles against your skin, right where the fat of your thighs met your hips.

Once you were a mere puddle of yourself, limply lying across the couch, Eren licked his lips clean to reveal his flashy smile. He didn’t look for the photograph this time—a lesson in patience—but crawled onto the couch to pull you into his arms.

Eren tucked your head beneath his chin, his nose pushed into the crown of your head, breathing you in. He smoothed a loving hand up and down your back, your cheek pressed against his chest.

“Five left. Think you can handle it?”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff #eren smut

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minniiaa · 2 months

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Zolu is the more popular pairing but I feel like in Luzo is the more realistic one. Like one day Luffy decides he wants to try sex and well, Zoro is his closest friend and he’s the coolest ever so he just approaches him and straight up says “Zoro let’s have sex!” Zoro considers it for about .2 seconds in his ape brain before he shrugs and says “Sure” because 1. He’ll do anything to please his captain 2. Luffy never gives up on anything and for whatever reason he decided he’s wants to fuck Zoro and therefore that means it will inevitably happen, might as well not resist and 3. If Luffy’s interested in sex now he’ll do it with someone there’s no way in hell it’s not going to be him. That’s HIS captain after all and who’s he going to sleep with if not him? That Erocook? (Bonus: 4. Zoro always been mildly curious how Luffy’s rubbery traits would work in bed.)

People naturally make Zoro this dominating top because he’s physically strong and (generally) mentally sound and more stoic especially post TS. But let’s be real he’s been focused on nothing but being the worlds best swordsman since he was a kid, he hasn’t been out there fucking bitches getting money. (He’d get lost trying to find the hole tbh) He’s also a head empty chaos demon running around with Luffy especially pre TS. I just don’t see him having the time or wasting the effort to seek out sex, he’d rather drink and pass out.

Zoro would be more than willing to let Luffy do whatever he pleases and he’d enjoy it too. Luffy takes control of every room he enters and two of his biggest character traits are being hungry and never listening to anyone so why wouldn’t he be the top between the two? Yeah he’d be sloppy and maybe even a little selfish but that’s Luffy for you and Zoro accepts that.

I think Luffy would probably misconstrue their relationship and say that Zoro is his boyfriend out of the blue because from his POV someone you love, want to be with forever, and have sex with is your boyfriend and Zoro checks all those boxes.

Zoro would probably just accept it. He’d just let Luffy think that if it makes him happy and you know what, he WOULD be his boyfriend. He already devoted his life to the guy and would follow him into death, Luffy’s been clingy since the day they met, and looks at Zoro like he’s the sun in his fucking sky. If you add sleeping together into the mix, they really are just dating even if Luffy doesn’t necessarily know what that means. Or maybe he does know, he’s smarter than he lets on. He says things like “you’ll never leave me” and “we’ll be together forever” like their statements and not question. Zoro never denies it because he’s right, Zoro’s either going to die for Luffy or live beside him until he dies another way. If that’s not love than what is?

Yeah so cute top and big scary guard dog bottom have a grip on me. I think I’m on the Luzo train now.

(ps. I still ship Zolu and switch Luffy and Zoro this is just my brainrot of the day)

#thinking bout luzo #idk too luffy just keeps taking over all my ships #am I being converted?#or are Zoro and Law just obvious bottoms #I still like zolu btw this is just a fun headcanon #don’t flame me #one piece #luffy #zoro #luffy x zoro #zolu #luzo #one piece headcanon

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acotarxreader · 21 days

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Shadow and Flame pt.5

Azriel X Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions but no description of torture, mentions of burns, YN reopens a wound but no heavy description, tooth aching sweetness

A/N: Part 5! Ah! I absolutely quick fired (hehe) this one. I really enjoyed writing the series for you, it gave me back the joy of writing and hope you love this final part! I have plenty more down the pipeline and hope you'll join me for the journey. Let me know what you think of this part, hope it lives up to your expectations!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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“So it’s settled, we’re going”

“Az, it's not that simple, we can’t just enter the Autumn Court uninvited-”

“Beron came here uninvited!” Azriel snapped back at Rhysand as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to push the brewing headache away. Cassian watched his two friends pace up and down Lucien’s destroyed study, the Emissary had gone for alcohol, lots of alcohol.

“If we want to get political-”

“Lets not-”

“If we want to get political, Beron was coming for a member of his court, as we have many times before-”

“-That's not good enough Rhys!”

“I’m thinking here!” Rhysand shouted back at Azriels heightened tone.

“Why don’t we just send Lucien, invitation in hand and he brings her back-”

“-I will not trust him with her welfare again Cass. I am going to the Autumn Court at dawn, I am going to get my mate back and I am fucking getting what I deserve!”

“You will go nowhere, I will not have you sacrificed for anyone” Azriel went to object to Rhysand as Lucien came in with jugs of whiskey, the colour still fighting to return to his face.

“Any progress?” Lucien questioned as he passed a jug to Cassian.

“No…actually Lucien I’m just going to get a glass for this” Azriel nodded before making a swift exit, leaving the jug on the desk next to his mate's life sentence. The room was still for a moment, the males left racking their brains before Cassain interrupted the silence with a very good question.

“Since when does Az need a glass to drink?” The three looked panicked amongst one another before darting out of the room, the Shadowsinger now well on his way to the Autumn Court, sending Rhysand shouting unrepeatable words.

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You sat at the vanity in the doorless room, staring in the mirror at the Fae you didn't recognise anymore. You ran a finger over the wound the guard had given you, promptly reopening it to bleed. If you were to walk up the aisle tomorrow you would do it with the Court knowing all is not well. It stitched itself back together almost instantly, you didn’t even have control of your cells anymore. You sat there blankly staring until the sun crept over the forest, the day you spent so long running from had arrived.

Maids were winnowed in, all with bags of products to use on you. You sat stoically still as the maidens brushed your hair and applied layers of make-up, your father's doll. You moved like a seamstress model, standing as they pinned your dress around you, crimson and white silk flowed down you. The happiest day of your life was the day you wanted to die the most. You let it all happen around you, unable to bring any element of energy to fight to your soul.

The wall opposite to the tall windows seemingly peeled away from itself, a door reappearing in the fine wallpaper. Your father in his finery entered, the staff immediately making themselves scarce.

“Come YN, your future awaits” he stretched out his arm and the shell you had become took hold of him, gliding alongside him through the hallways. He stopped outside tall decadent doors, glaring at a nearby guard to open them. The room was like a hollowed-out church, an altar with no pews for guests, no semblance of a place where people would come to rejoice. Standing at the top of the narrow aisle where your funeral march would take place was a broad and brutish male, decked out in his Court’s colours. You walked up the passageway, your father's hand crushingly over yours.

“YN Vanserra, I am pleased to make your acquaintance” your father released you with almost a jolt towards your groom. Beron moved to stand between you both, the officiant of the event.

The General's hand reached before snatching yours with force and bringing his lips to your fingers, kissing them. You felt you were going to pass out, the air struggling to oxygenate your lungs, it was thick, thick like smoke. Thick like shadows.

“YN!” you whipped around to find Azriel striding up the aisle, Truth Teller angled at your groom. You felt awash with emotions, you moved from your highest high at seeing him to the lowest of lows as you realised your father's lure had worked.

“Az stop!” you shouted, your throat hoarse from last night. You glanced between Azriel, the General and your Father, the latter's face twisting into pure excitement.

“Az-Az I don’t love you, leave, I’m marrying the General” you forced the lies out of your mouth like bile. Azriels face seemed hollow, lowering his blade back to his side at your last ditch effort to have Azriel escape.

“Y-N you don’t mean that, you can’t mean that,” he said it so small it shattered your heart all over again, you forced your eyes off the Spymaster, glancing at your groom's shoes. The sound of your father clapping so sickly slow hauled your attention back to him.

“Oh YN, there’s my cruel daughter, shattering a male heart before I shatter his bones” his venomous laugh felt like blades on your skin. Azriel went to react, a tendril of fire stretching across the room to snatch Truth Teller from his hands, throwing it to the feet of the General. His wings splayed ready to fight for his life until the tendrils clawed him to the ground and rolled him in crushing pressure. Azriels face began to turn purple under the coercion as you moved to run to his side, the cold callus hands of the General snatching you back by the wrist.

“I am owed a bride!” He seethed at you, the sound of your wrist joint crushing in his hands. In one swift movement you swung for the ground, snatching Truth Teller and slicing through the bone of his hand. The General roared, his blood shooting outwards at the release of the pressure from the vessels, his feet went from beneath him in dizzying blood loss, collapsing to the floor.

“Azriel!” you ran to him screaming as he writhed in pain.

“YN, you're ruining your pretty dress” a corkscrew of Beron’s flames leapt at you as he laughed maniacally, singeing your dress.

You stood in front of Azriel, protecting him from your fathers advances, the room swelling with flames. Beron held the flames around Azriel, squeezing his fist, wrapping the flame tighter around the Shadowsinger, his other hand sending a dart of almost lava towards you. You raised your bracleted wrists, the heat hitting the rings of metal and water dead on. You almost screamed as the water within the casing began to sizzle and steam, it evaporating under the heat of your fathers raging flame. The shackles metal dripped to the floor, freeing you as you threw Truth Teller with precision to land right through your fathers shoulder, hanging his arm by a thread from the joints. Beron bellowed at the pain, the hand controlling the Azriels choking flame gravely injured, releasing the flame from around a scorched spymaster.

You dove for him, his skin greying at the feeling of the release of insurmountable pain. You called for any scrap of power, grabbing Azriel by a scorched hand. You went to winnow through the small flame you could call to your side as Beron pulled Truth Teller from his arm, hurling it towards you. Truth-Teller sailed with its unshakable precision straight towards your back as you hunched to pull Azriel from the ground.

“YN!” Azriel groaned, using his debilitated strength to stretch his wing around you, for shielding as the blade pierced through a crucial spine of his wing, sticking through the otherside, showering you in Azriels blood.

You screeched at the feeling of the warm thick blood before pulling Azriel into the flame with you. Your power was weakened after months of it being smothered as you tugged Azriel through the warmth of your own flame. You crashed out on the edge of Forest House’s borders, too weak to winnow the both of you a greater distance.

“Az, I can’t- I can’t bring us further!” you cried, trying to support his weight, Forest House alarms blaring in the background.

“YN please, go, run, I don’t want to survive if it means I have to live in a world where you don’t love me” he winced out, arm around his abdomen trying to keep his burned skin together. The sound of mobilised guards shuddered the earth behind you both.

“Azriel, stop, I do, I do love you, you’re-you’re- my mate!” you cried, falling to the ground under your weakened legs and Azriel’s withering body. You reached and kissed him, a silent agreement that you would rather die together than live without one another, the voices of Autumn Court guards growing in volume.

“Are we interrupting something?” The both of you had your eyes shooting towards Cassian's voice, Lucien and Rhysand in tow.

“Azriel, I swear to the Gods, you are so grounded when we get home!”

“Bit of insensitive timing there Rhysand '' Lucien glanced towards Azriels almost dissolving right wing, blood flowing steadily from him as he greyed. Rhysand and Cassian pulled Azriel from the ground, winnowing him away as you went to Lucien to do the same.

"I promise I'll never let any of them near you again YN, you can trust me"

"I do Luc"

*************

The group crash landed into the Town House, the smell of singed skin and blood filling the living room instantly.

“Cassian, get Madja!” Rhysand ordered as they lowered Azriel to the sofa. You ran to his side again, copper eyes ablaze. You raised your hands to the bleeding wing, flames coming to your fingertips.

“I’m really sorry Az, this is going to hurt”

“What is Flam-FUCKING HELL” he roared as you pulled Truth Teller from his wing, sending more blood sprouting out like a faucet. Your hands went to cover the extensive puncture, your flames cauterising the wound, healing and stitching the wing back together. He fluttered it gently, its range of motion coming back. You then moved down his scorched body, the healing nature of your flame soothing his body back to health. Madja rushed in, bag of concoctions in hand, stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her.

“Cassian, we need to have a little discussion about the words, near death” she scolded him.

*************

Six months after your near wedding day you moved up through the garden, work bag in hand, humming to yourself.

“Hello Flame” Azriel sat on the back patio of the Town House, you beaming at his smile. You sat beside him on the bench, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

“I have a gift for you” you reached into your satchel as Azriel closed his eyes, hands out-stretched.

“Open them” Azriels eye’s landed on the cremated cinnamon bun in his hands.

“Good with healing but bad with baking?” he laughed and you nudged him back.

“Fine, don’t take the mate offering” you went to take it back as you chuckled, he pulled it back hastily, a smile as wide as his face. He took a bite of the cremated pastry.

“At least you dont fuck like you cook”

“Really Az that's the first thing you say to me after I accept the bond” the two of you laughed loudly to one another. Azriel went to take another polite bite, yelping and putting a hand to the side of his jaw.

“God’s Flame, are there rocks in here-” he pulled the object that almost chipped his tooth from his mouth. A circle of gleaming obsidian shone in his hand.

“I fired it myself, it's made with fragments of Truth Teller that came from your wing that-that time. I hope you like it” Azriel couldn't find his words, eyes glued to the precious present. He wiped the pastry from it, instantly slipping it onto his ring finger where it would remain forevermore. His sweet eyes met yours before pulling a ring from his own jacket pocket. A crimson stone the colour of fire set on a shadow black band. Azriel took your hand in his, slipping the ring onto your finger.

“If you look into the stone, some of my shadows stay happily inside. They will always be with you Flame and so will I” he swept the hair from your face and planted a tender kiss to your lips.

Symbols of the forever bond that lies between shadow and flame.

---------------------------------

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cloudsmateria · 4 months

Text

college roommate - leon kennedy x reader

nerdy!reader x leon kennedy

synopsis: you and leon have just started university, finding yourself in the same university visit, he comes and visits your dorm as he's been struggling in his classes. you kick it off, and you invite each other into your different, interesting lives.

words: like 4500

disclaimer: this isn't proof-read and i actually do need to proofread it and i will when i finish it, this also isn't finished. so if u don't wanna read it now and wanna come back to it when it's pristine and complete be my guest, the edit of this will be very edited like literally whole chunks of texts will be different, i just wanted to post something

content warning: kissing, bit of angst, slight smut/almost smut, sexual themes

A loud knock rings through your door, if it had come even a second later you wouldn’t have heard it at all as you were on a one-way path to passing out on top of your notes.

“Come in.” You mumble, picking your head up off of the desk and watching as a dirt-blonde hunk of a boy you don’t recognise comes through. Maybe it’s one of the frat boys trying to get to know all the girls in his dorm house.

“Hey. Can I ask a favour?”

“Who are you?”

"I'm Leon, I saw you in my engineering lecture the other day and you looked like you understood what was going on. Then I found out you were in my university building. So here, I am. Help. Please. I’m going to fail and we’re only 3 weeks in." His desperation makes you laugh, something you were shocked you could do in this dazed state after a mind-boggling 8 hours of completing work.

"Oh Leon, I'd love to but I think if I even think about that engineering class for another second right now I might actually drop down and die."

"It can wait, you busy right now? Other than you know, spilling drool all over your papers?”

“Yeah, I was just about to go spill some on my pillow too, I'm exhausted." You say, not entirely joking, and begin to gather your things.

“I get it.”

“We have another engineering lecture tomorrow anyway so you can just catch me then."

"You sure, though? I mean I'm already here." He shrugs and picks up a book from her bookshelf. "How do you read any of these? There are no pictures." You laugh again.

"You're asking me how I read physics books when you take engineering… Are you sure you picked the right course? You know, you can read it if you want, and would probably benefit from it. If you can even read."

"No thanks, I'll just get you to teach it to me tomrrow. I’ll see you in a bit, Einstein.”

"You should watch what you call me if you want me to tutor you, that’s usually not free."

"Oh, but the thing is I don't think you're actually going to make me pay for anything. You're too nice for that."

"That's a very bold statement to make to a stranger."

"You'll come round eventually."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"Can I just ask you another question? I'm not going to stop annoying you until you answer it the way I want you to."

"Go on." You sigh.

"Have you eaten today? Cause I haven't and I'm hungry."

"Leon-"

"Please."

"Okay, okay, God, you're persistent. Gonna give me a headache." You groan and sit up.

"It’s worth it, you'll need me to keep you sane later in the year."

"Oh really? You think we’re gonna stay friends that long?"

"I know you've got your nerdy brain, but I've been told I have a great personality." You can't tell if he's implying something with that disgustingly stupid joke or if he really is just an idiot. To be fair, he's funny and managed to pull you out your the room you had been hibernating in for the past few days to get ahead of work. You suppose there are worse people you could be forced to talk to.

"Whatever. Just get out of here." You push him towards the door.

"You're not going to eat with me?" You roll your eyes and lock the door, getting dressed into something that wasn't your pyjamas.

…

Now here you were, eating outside with this boy from your lectures when you had just wanted to be at home sleeping. Although it was nicer than you thought it would be, he had insisted on buying you an energy drink to keep your eyes open as you were eating in some random burger shop.

"How come you're struggling?"

"Been going to too many parties, I've got different priorities."

"..."

"What?" He says defensively.

"Don't make me slap you. You can't be stupid because you got into this university, you're wasting your potential."

"I am not!"

"You're struggling! We're only 3 weeks in! I mean, come on, Leon."

"I don't understand what your problem is, maybe you need to live a little."

"That is rich coming from you. You're going to peak in college and fuck up the rest of your life if you ruin your chance now. And I live fine right now, I go out often enough and put the rest of my time toward my course, like a responsible human being."

"So you're boring?"

"So you're an idiot and can't plan for the future?"

"No, I'm not." He smirks. "And also, I never said I couldn't plan for the future, just that it isn't the only thing I want to focus on."

"Okay, fine, that's it. This is your problem, I'm not tutoring you."

"Got under your skin?" He smiles.

"I'm serious. You're smart if you got into this school, but you're wasting your talent partying and sleeping around."

“You’ve only known me for 20 minutes and you’ve managed to start an argument.”

“I just don’t want to waste my time. If you want me to help with assignments you need to make an effort, and if you want to be my friend, you’re also going to need to make an effort because I’m not going to care about someone who can’t even care about themselves.”

"I care about myself. Why else would I come to you for help on this?"

"Because you can't do it yourself and your friends are too stupid to ask them for help."

"No... Well... Okay fine, yeah that sounds pretty accurate. But in all honesty, I do care about my grade, that's why I'm coming to you. Now you know my intentions, I beg talk about something else, this entire conversation is reminding me of my mom."

"Like what?"

"Like, there's a party next Saturday, and I think you should come with me. You’re pretty entertaining."

"Oh, Leon. You're so clueless, it's pitiful."

"You have to go to the party, it will be fun."

"I have been to parties, I've gone to 2 since the start of the semester. But we have assignments to work on this week."

"One more little party isn't going to kill you. It'll be good, and then we can do the work."

"That's a very backward mindset."

"You'll thank me, trust me."

"You say the reason you’re struggling is because you’re going to many parties, and immediately proceed to invite me to a party." You shake your head and laugh. “You are something else.”

“So are you coming?”

“I’ll think about it.”

…

You and Leon had been going to the lectures together ever since, having lunch at points when he wasn’t hoarded by his friends and even managing a few study sessions into his schedule. You came 5 minutes early for the engineering lecture the next day. Flipping through the textbook notes to top up on your pre-reading beforehand, you had right at the back as Leon begged you to over text the previous night to sit there rather than the front so he’d feel comfortable sitting next to you. It doesn't take long for people to start filtering in, and eventually, that blonde-headed boy pops up next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder immediately.

"Didn't get enough sleep last night." He mutters.

"Up studying?"

"You know me so well."

“I'm not even going to ask what you were doing." You sigh, fully believing he had either gone clubbing or to another party last night.

"I promise you, I was studying. And you can ask me all the questions you want, I'll try my best to answer. I did go a little off track and I'm not doing well at it but your inspirational speech convinced me to try a bit."

"Really?" You ask excitedly, looking down at him. "Leon, that's great!" You feel his cheeks crease into a smile against your shoulder at your enthusiasm.

"You're more excited about it than I am, that's cute." He chuckles. "Keep talking, my head hurts, your voice helps."

"The lecture starts soon."

"Don't care."

"I’m not going to talk over the lecturer." You say, flicking his forehead.

"It's just a lot, okay? I'm trying my best, but I might have reached my full capacity last night." He sits up and sighs, rubbing his temples.

“Welcome to university."

"Yeah, whatever. Can we go back to your room after?"

"Sure."

"Thank you."

"Of course."

The professor finally steps into the lecture hall, and everyone quiets down, preparing for the lesson.

Halfway through, Leon couldn't help but pass out on you again. Your body went rigid, trying to make sure his head wouldn't fall off your shoulder. You pick the paper off of his desk, dragging it toward you as you start to write notes on your own and his paper so he won't miss out on anything.

He's surprisingly cute when he's not cracking annoying jokes and snapping back with snarky remarks. He was even making you lose track of the lecture a bit.

After class, you wake him up and walk him back to your dorm with him, chatting and catching him up on what he missed briefly. When you think about it, you're surprised you only met him yesterday. He feels like someone you've known since secondary school, or maybe he just treats everyone this way. Either way, you wouldn't complain about spending time with him.

"So, we're alone. What do we do?"

"Study?" You say, throwing him a pencil and paper. "Don't ask me stupid questions like that again."

"Come on, we just got out of an hour lecture, we basically already studied."

"A lecture that you slept for half of-"

"And that you caught me up on after."

"We need to make up the time. Now come on, let's work."

"But-"

"Now, Leon."

"Ugh."

…

The next hour wasn't as bad as you had expected it to be, you could still get your work done while simultaneously teaching Leon that content he missed out on. His demeanour quickly became enthusiastic when he saw how proud you were when you understood a concept, and you were genuinely impressed, he caught onto things quickly. After an hour, you both took a break sitting on your bed, him replying to some messages on his phone.

"Hey." You say, poking his arm to draw his attention.

"What?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Making the effort to try, even if it is just a little bit."

"You're definitely making more effort than me." He smiles, leaning his head on your shoulder again.

"If you want to sleep you should just go home, you must be exhausted."

"I'm not leaving you in this depressing room, I'm keeping you company."

"I’m not keeping you from anything? Your phone was blowing up a second ago I assume you have somewhere to be."

"They can wait, I want to stay around for a bit longer. I like the change for once."

"Change?"

"It's quiet, I can think for once. You’re different from the people I’m around smart and stubborn,”

“So you’re aware of the poor choice of people you hang around, you had me fooled for a while.”

“Wait I’m not done, and even after all of that, I can tell that you're a little shy which is adorable. Oh, and my favourite part is how easy you are to annoy."

"I am not."

"You're blushing right now, I can feel your cheek getting hot. Adorable."

"Don’t you even close your mouth?"

"You know I can't, come on, it's not like you mind."

"Oh my god."

"Admit it, I'm fun to be around."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Tell me what you think of me."

"What?"

"Tell me, come on. Please, I'm dying for validation."

"Well. You're nice, and I've never seen you without a smile on your face, it's refreshing.”

“A little more… I know you got it in you.”

“You're not as stupid as you make yourself out to be,. And I honestly can't tell if I'm special or if you treat everyone else this way because you make me feel way more important than I really would be for someone like you."

"You're special, trust me. And that's a stupid question to ask. Do you want a list of the people I've met? The people I’ve made friends with?"

"What?"

"I can count on one hand the real people I've managed to keep around and one of those is my dog. Don't worry about that, because I know you’re gonna be on that list too. I know you think that I have so many friends and I'm surrounded by people all the time, but they're all fake. They're just fun for parties and clubbing when you have nothing else to do."

"But-"

"It's true." He looks at you, his expression becoming serious for the first time since you've met him. "And I've got to tell you, you're different."

"Different?"

"Yeah, you're interesting. You're not fake, and you're actually doing something with your life."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, I think you’ve just surrounded yourself with one particular type of person, and now you’re shocked when you meet someone who’s not an idiot."

"Come on, I've seen the work you've done in these past 24 hours. You were working for at least 25 of them.”

"You know how to flatter me."

"That's another reason why you should hang out with me more."

"Oh, and why's that?"

"I'm not afraid to admit how much I like you, Einstein. Makes you feel good, doesn’t it?"

"I can't even think about what I should say to that." You say, laughing and burying your head in your hands. "God, you're a mess."

“I suppose, yeah. You’re changing that though.” He lifts your chin up to face him, smiling at your red cheeks. “See? So cute.”

"Why do you have to keep saying things like that?"

"Because you react this way." He grins.

"I hate you."

"Let me ask you something again. Are you going to go to the party on Saturday?"

"I don’t think so."

“Since I’ve got the chance, I think I can change your mind.” He smiles and pulls your face a little closer, close enough for him to feel your shallow breaths against his lips.

"I-" You can't find any words, you're stunned. He's gorgeous, and you can't deny that, but the idea of kissing him feels wrong, you can't do it. Not right now. The thought of getting with someone you're starting to have feelings for is setting off alarm bells, the alarm bells imprinted by your bad experiences from secondary school of guys playing with your emotions. No matter how much your heart is screaming you want to, your mind is screaming no.

"You're gonna go with me right?" He whispers.

"Okay." You say hoarsely, your legs desperately pressed together.

"Good girl." He smiles, getting up and putting his shoes on. "I'll see you on Saturday." He says, before leaving.

"I'm screwed." You mutter.

…

Saturday finally rolled around. You weren't even sure how much time you spent with Leon the day before, but you knew you wanted more. This was starting to become a concern for you. You remember last year, when you were hurt so bad you pledged to never fall for someone again. You can't do this, not with him. You know Leon is exactly that kind of guy, he’s charming, an athlete, with too many friends for his own good, someone who has no reason to be associated with you unless he wanted something, and was patient when it came to getting it.

And yet, here you were, wearing a simple little black dress and the heels Leon said would match. You pray that the feelings are cut off here, hopefully he sees you as just a friend and just likes to tease. But a little part of you has a sliver of hope that maybe this is real.

Leon came to pick you up from your room, as he was only a floor away. When you opened the door you were met with Leon dressed in a black bottom down with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up which definitely made you feel some kind of way.

"Leon, hi." You say, overly aware of the fabric hugging your skin, you rarely wore tight clothes.

"Wow." His eyes were stuck to everything that wasn't your face.

"Hey! My eyes are on my face, not my chest."

"I know."

"Leon!"

"Just admiring the view." You ended up crossing your arms to try and hide a bit of your figure.

"Can you stop looking?"

"You look great, don't worry." He says.

"Whatever."

"No, I'm serious. I mean it, you look amazing. Just relax and have fun, okay?" He puts his arm around your waist, pulling you close. "You look hot. And it's only going to get better. Just try to have a good time, I'll be by your side the whole time.”

"I've been to a party before, you don't need to baby me."

"I know it’s just this one is a big one. They always end in a mess. I've had a couple of close calls with the police."

"That's not what I'm worried about." I'm worried about what I might end up doing with you, she thinks.

"Just tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable and we can go." He smiles and leads you out of the dorm building and into the street.

"How far is it?"

"Only a few minutes away." He says, leading you along the sidewalk.

The walk wasn't too far, it was about 20 minutes of you both drinking from a wine bottle for some pre-game. Time seemed to fly by as you came to the house. Whoever was hosting this party, probably one of Leon's friends no doubt, was rich. The house was huge and the whole thing was vibrating with the music that blasted through it.

"We're here."

"I think it’s going to collapse.."

"Wait until you see inside." He grabs your hand and drags you in, the house packed. You didn't recognise anyone and felt a little intimidated as Leon led you through the crowd of people, pushing them aside. You couldn't believe there were this many students in the town.

He stops at the kitchen, handing you a drink. You hadn't gone to a party this big before, and that was voluntary, this was just too much. You drink it in one to hopefully get you drunk enough to gain a bit of confidence and hand it back to Leon for it to get refilled.

"I didn't know there were this many people here."

"There's usually a lot." He smiles, handing her another drink. "Don't worry, I'll be with you the whole night. You take a shot before starting to sip on the more tame drink Leon had gotten.

"What do you want to do first?"

"Let’s go find some of my friends.He says, taking your hand and dragging you through the sea of people, most likely dancing, grinding, or drinking.

He pulls you into the living room, finding his friends from one of the lectures and joining in on their conversation. You're introduced and you talk with them, they're all quite funny and sweet. You were happy to have found a fun little group.

The rest of the night is spent with them, the five of you getting progressively drunker and drunker and talking about more and more stupid shit before someone suggests the group should go and dance, you immediately go and hide behind Leon.

"Dancing is definitely not my thing." You whisper.

"You have to come."

"No way."

"Please." He says, looking into your eyes.

"Why?"

"I want you to."

"Leon."

"If you hate it, I'll make it up to you. Please." He whispers, and you sigh, giving in. "I know you'll enjoy it." He smiles and leads her by the hand into the living room where everyone is.

"Everyone's too drunk to be paying any attention anyway." He says, and the group joins in on the dance.

After a few more drinks the alcohol started to hit.

"Isn't so bad, is it?" He says after the first few minutes, watching you find your rhythm.

"No, it's fun."

"See, told you."

"Don't let it go to your head, I'm just drunk."

He smiles, spinning you so your back is pressed against his, the two of you continue to dance. He leans down and kisses your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and grinding into you.

"Leon-"

"It's hard to control myself with you, almost kissed you that time I convinced you to come to this party, could tell you weren’t sure though."

"Because I thought we were just friends."

"That never lasts long, does it? Did you really think it was going to stay that way forever?" He says, running his hand down your thigh.

"We're drunk." You mumble, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. God, you wanted it. You were trying with everything you had to rationalise with yourself. He knew what he was doing.

"That doesn't change the fact that you're irresistible. And that's not the alcohol talking. I've been wanting to do this for a while."

He smirks, spinning her back around to face him and lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"Let's go upstairs,"

"Leon-"

"Shh." He puts a finger over her lips and leads her away, finding the stairs and walking up. “Stop doubting yourself. One thing about you is that you always say no, or doubt yourself, let’s change that for once.”

He takes you to the first room he finds, happening to be a bathroom, opening the door and stepping in, kicking it closed and locking it. He sets you down and starts to kiss you, the alcohol making it a lot more forceful than usual. You kiss back, letting him guide you and set the pace, his hands sliding over her body.

"You're so fucking beautiful." He mutters, his lips trailing down to your neck. You feel the pressure of his hands pushing you backwards. Your back hits the counter, he lifts you up and settles himself between your thighs.

"Leon-"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure? About me?"

"Yes." He smiles, lifting his head. "Now stop doubting yourself, will you? You're too perfect for that." If you were sober, your mind would've had red lights blaring, trying to protect you, but the alcohol flattened out all thoughts. A hint of doubt crossed your mind instinctually. But his touch is so good, and he's making you feel things that you haven't in a long time.

"I-"

"Come on, tell me how much you want me."

"I really like you, Leon. It's just...I have this feeling that I'll get hurt."

"What are you so afraid of? What can I do to change your mind?" He whispers. "I'll do anything for you." He says, pulling your head down to kiss him. The sweet nothings bring back some bad memories, it's starting to feel a bit like deja vu.

"I've been hurt before, Leon."

"What's his name? I'll kick his ass."

"It was in high school, but it happened too many times."

"You have to stop thinking, just focus on me, okay?"

"Leon."

"Come on." He sighs, pressing a finger to your lips. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. I don't want to lose something because someone in your past ruined everything for you, okay?"

"I don't know."

He sighs. "Do you wanna head home ?"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not upset. Come on, I'll take you back."

"I didn't mean to ruin the night."

"No, I'm not letting you leave thinking you ruined it. I'm sure a million more parties are happening this week if you feel so bad."

"I'm a mess, Leon. Why do you even like me? I'm not worth it."

"Of course you are." He says, cupping your cheek."You're the only person I can stand to be around for hours while sober. And you can't argue with that."

"Okay."

"I'll get us out of here and you can crash in my room."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now come on, we're leaving."

...

The taxi ride home was short and sweet, but still awkward. You were scared he'd be mad at you for ending the night so abruptly, but when you got into the room he made sure to put his arm around you, whispering reassurement into your ear, stroking your hair.

"You don't have to worry. I'm not angry."

"Really?"

"I don't blame you for wanting to wait."

"It's just, the last time-"

"I'm not him, you can trust me. I've been trying to prove that to you."

"I think... Maybe I can learn to trust you."

"You will, eventually." He says, holding his arms open, gesturing for her to cuddle with him.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

You cuddle him for a bit, the silence being cut by the sound of the two of you breathing. Leon leans down to kiss capture your lips softly, it feels a lot easier to kiss him back, pressing your body against him.

"I don't know why anyone would ever hurt you." He whispers between kisses. "You're perfect." He runs his fingers through your hair.

"I don't know about that."

"I don't know why you doubt yourself either. Go to sleep, you'll feel better in the morning."

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ronearoundblindly · 8 months

Note

Feel free to ignore this… but any further (descriptive) thots on what the first time Ari calling reader Mrs Levinson would be like?!

I just can’t get the thot of tender love making out of my brain after reading the 3+1!

Please no pressure at all! Just wanted to let you know how much this Ari lives rent free in my brain 😵‍💫💙

Ari Levinson x bestfriend!Reader (now wife) from Bedrock and Blueprints series

woah. so. good lawd, i got all up in my own feels for a while and shrank my world down to just reader and this guy:

An expansion of the the last part of this. Warning for sexy times in the most loving way. MINORS DNI. WC 1.3k

A/N: holy sh*t. don't @ me if you hate this and hate terrible puns because 🙈 idk what happened...

Your relationship keeps evolving.

You started as distant acquaintances, sharing a friend but not much else. Soon, though, you and Ari found common ground and mutual respect. Slowly, the two of you learned more about each other and grew comfortable, playfully jabbing at each other's bad habits and blind spots.

You only ever wanted the best for one another.

It took a long time--many people would say too long--to WANT one another, and old habits die hard.

The strangest part of your wedding day is how easy it is to fall into the 'friend' pattern again. You're executing a planned day, hosting guests in your home, coordinating care of your baby. Ari's helping. He always does.

The ceremony is short and sweet, the party after a simple barbecue. It hardly feels...special.

On the other side of the lawn, Ari shows a few of your coworkers Rachel's favorite face he makes, and your daughter howls in joy, grabbing at Daddy from her perch your cubicle-mate's arms.

They're too far away to hear, but you can read Ari's body language pretty well after a decade.

What's wrong, honey? You love looking out at a crowd.

See? See all these people? They're here for you. For us. For...

Ari's eyes meet yours, his bottle of beer becoming an anchor in his outstretched hand. He beams.

...mommy.

You give a tiny little wave just as he gets ambushed by a few more guests cooing over Rachel. Ari is tall enough that you can see his gaze never leaves you, even when he's surrounded, even when he mutters an answer to a question, even as he pats shoulders and backs until he's out of the throng.

His radiant smile washes over you like the warm breeze on this perfect day. His feet land in time with thuds of Boyd and Dimitri battling it out on the cornhole boards, and the women flanking you twitter appreciative giggles as if putting voice to your heart's fluttering.

Ari is, well, damn fine to look at.

"Hey," he breathes heavily once making his way to you. "You wanna--" he gestures behind you to the house "--for a sec?"

"Oh, sure." You scramble to think what more could be missing from outside. Are the drinks running low? Is the grill ready for the next round of food? Does Rachel need a toy or maybe a hat?

He leads the way to open the door for you, and that's when you notice Ari's starting to sweat through the t-shirt he changed into after the ceremony. He's never been a fan of the penguin suits. As he puts it, "they rent them for a reason. Nobody wants to own one of these."

Whether for the entertainment or just to cool himself off, you assume Ari's heading for the kitchen and turn accordingly before an arm snaking around your waist hauls you backward.

"Not so fast, gorgeous," he snips in your ear, a familiar playfulness in the words warming down your spine.

"What are you doing, Ari?" you laugh, letting him man-handle you down the hall to the bedroom.

He touches you down gently beside the door and shuts it behind him quietly. Those pearly white teeth and bright blue eyes keep shining.

"Just taking a minute," he whispers, stepping closer, dragging his finger around your ear to move a bit of stray hair, "just for us."

His focus holds yours for a long time. The rough pad of his thumb traces the height of your cheekbone. A sheen of perspiration glistens on his temple. His flush glows pink even on the skin between beard hairs. Ari's tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip.

Mixed with the muffled sound of your party outside, it's hard to tell his breathing has changed, but when your own eyes stop roaming the rest of his face, you see welling tears.

"Sorry, I don't know why..." Ari's cracking voice trails off. He sniffs and plants his hands against your hips to steady himself.

It makes your head spin.

"Sorry I took so lo--" but you don't let him get the words out.

Friends don't let friends cry over wasted time, no, because none of it was wasted. Learning about each other is necessary. Respecting one another is crucial. Laughing at the little things and the stupid things is essential. Everything happened just as it should.

You pour your approval into the kiss, tossing your arms around his neck and climbing him like the steadfast, rooted tree he's become, the centerpiece he is in the forest of your life, and Ari weathers the assault with gusto.

He sways with that changing wind of desire to lay you on the bed, shading you with his broad body and dangling hair, cocooning you both in your own little world, hot and heavy and light as a feather.

"I love you," he says as his wide palm explores up your skirt. "I love you," he says as two fingers move your panties out of the way. "I love you," he says as he discovers just how long you've been waiting for this touch.

"I love you," you repeat, undoing the fastening of his shorts. "I love you," you repeat, pushing them to the ground. "I love you," you repeat, taking his length in your hand.

"Please, Ari."

He hisses in tortured excitement. "Yeah?" In a flurry of fabrics, he's yanking your skirt around, tucking your leg up high over his waist as he climbs on the bed, too. "You want me, gorgeous?"

You like how much he leans into your new nickname; he's tried to ween himself off calling you 'kid' now that Rachel exists.

"Need you." Your words sound whiny and desperate because they are. "Need my husband."

The groan Ari lets out would wake the neighbors. Thank g-d there's a party outside...

He's so careful entering you, giving you time to stretch for him, giving him time to listen to every sated breath you both take. He pulls down the zipper at your side and peels your dress back, further exposing you. He loves how sensitive your nipples are since having a baby, but he also knows how much you hate these bras. He takes a moment to unhook you and fling that shit across the room, relishing your happy sigh of freedom.

"There's my wife," he chokes out, propped on his hands above you, surveying the bare beauty before him. His shirt is loose and wrinkled from where you've been gripping it for dear life. The shimmer of tears is back in his eyes--just for a second--until you bring him down to kiss again.

Once fully sheathed inside you, Ari sets a rhythm to mirror your whole relationship: slow and playful. He works to make you laugh, to make you fight him just a little bit because he's being silly. He flicks at your nipples and mouths at your shoulder. He only has one care in the whole world and for all time until--

Ari growls into your neck when there's a knock at the door.

"Just took the last bottle out of the fridge for Rachel, dearie. Thought you should know," Momma Joe's sweet old voice vibrates through, but you hear her footsteps fade quickly.

"'Spose that means I need to pump..." You toss your arms out in defeated frustration.

"Nah-uh," Ari shoots back, gathering you into a firm hold, pressing himself that much deeper inside you. He drapes that bubble of attention over you again, intent and adoring. "Right now? Right now you're mine, Misses Levinson."

He rolls his hips back, cock inching out of you, covered in your slippery arousal.

"And I need to pump--" he thrusts forward, the heft of him making your head loll back on the sheets "--again...and again...and again..."

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @royalwriteroftheuniverse @jamneuromain

#ro answers #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #best friends to lovers #bedrock and blueprints #ari levinson fluff #ari levinson imagine

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goldensunset · 6 months

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💎 lokiss

🔁 traumaadcaelum Follow

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💎 lokiss

i think a snickers would’ve fixed baldr tbh

🙅 traumaadcaelum Follow

hi! can you NOT make jokes about the worst massacre that’s happened here in centuries?? my girlfriend was murdered that day but i guess people like you just love taking advantage of tragedies for funny internet clout. i hope you lose your heart in another world.

💎 lokiss

she baldr on my dr until i bald

#get off my post i literally lost someone too

479 notes

💐 my-other-car-is-a-keyblade-glider

my missing brother, brani, is finally back!!!! i’ve been so so worried for forever. thank you everyone who prayed with me 🙏

#he is acting a little weird though if i’m being honest #freya speaks

5 notes

🌸 dandelioneater

🔁 the-fourteenth-original-darkness

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🍎 valkyrie-of-dreams Follow

sometimes i feel like my taste in men is bad and then i remember there are multiple secret societies entirely dedicated to thirsting after master brain

🔑 its-kee-not-kai

you ever see a post that just looks like someone swinging a keyblade at a flappy bugs nest

#kingdom hearts grant me the serenity to not look at the notes #courage to not look at the notes #and wisdom to not look at the notes

56907 notes

🌕 tardyfleetfoot

Asking for a friend what do you do when a cable car stops in midair and starts shaking and swaying on the wire while you’re in there up there way high above the ground? Time sensitive question asking for a friend.

3 notes

🌚 the-fourteenth-original-darkness

🔁 my-other-car-is-a-keyblade-glider

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🧜🏻‍♀️ ieatchesspieces Follow

let’s explore the nearby abandoned towns together!

108500 notes

🔑its-kee-not-kai

🔁 master-odin-retire-challenge

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💍 ladyofsilver-fountains Follow

it’s really awful how people are acting like it’s illegal to have a sense of humor anymore. even in the wake of tragedy, humans have always been humans. plus it’s been almost a year now. life goes on, you know?

👢master-odin-retire-challenge

the context for this post is op lost their job and reputation because they laughed at the funeral of a little girl named vör when the person giving the eulogy couldn’t be bothered to learn how to pronounce her name correctly. please for the love of light stop blindly reblogging things like this.

#oh ewww i hate people

239 notes

🌘 xehanerd

to the anon who just sent that long-winded ask: my blog is my space. if you don’t like what i post then move on.

#xe.post #delete later

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🌘 xehanerd

🔁 dajokerofscala Follow

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🌗 balancewillprevail Follow

It drives me insane whenever people frame it like Baldr 'succumbing to darkness' and going crazy was inevitable. Sure, darkness played a part in that tragedy, but it completely overlooks the reality of how Master Odin failed to take care of that child at every step of the way. The boy was lost in grief, and the adult who was supposed to take care of him shoved him in an asylum-like room alone? Are we really going to leave that part out in favor of pushing the narrative that people prone to darkness are simply evil at heart? He could have lived a happy life being himself if he had been supported and nurtured. It didn’t have to be this way.

🌕 tardyfleetfoot

Right? We could have saved him from his darkness! He was our friend….

🌗 balancewillprevail Follow

That’s… not at all what I was saying, but I suppose a stupid comment like this is to be expected from somebody with ‘darkness dni’ in their bio. Thanks for trying.

🐓 everyoneshutupplease Follow

‘darkness played a part in that tragedy’ not you sugarcoating what happened for the sake of pushing YOUR narrative that the thing that’s been killing people since the dawn of time can possibly be anything but toxic. how many people have to die before people like you get in touch with reality???

🌗 balancewillprevail Follow

Sounds about right from someone who went through the Scala Ad Caelum public school system. Have you ever tried reading a book other than what was assigned for class? Please check your natural-light privilege and ignorance. Thanks.

🪐 fenrir-fanatic

look out lads we got another conspiracy theorist ‘homeschool your kids’ dork lmao

🌗 balancewillprevail Follow

And do you read anything other than sigurd x reader fanfiction, based on the first seven posts on your blog?

📈 whats-your-favorite-staircase-to-heaven Follow

the notes on this post were so toxic staff just axed ‘em

#sent to me #thank you joker

0 notes

#unreality #less than 24 hours later here’s the dr one lol #kingdom hearts #khdr #kingdom hearts dark road #dark road #mine: kh

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stayandot8 · 10 months

Text

Defrost

Genre: angsty mess

Relationship type: idol!chan x reader

Important Contents: Thank you Jellybean. I hope this lives up to it. It's short but...eh...

WC: 1.5k

Part Two l masterlist

This apartment had dropped ten degrees since he left. No matter how much I turned up the thermostat, it was always freezing. The winter months had been the hardest, when no amount of layers would help. Bundled in several coats all day long and curling up on my couch with a hot mug was starting to become a habit, the norm. The frost of the previous night was slowly but surely starting to melt from the early spring sun.

Christmas time had been the worst. My family asked every question that was certain to rip my heart out all over again. A slew of ‘where’s Chris?’ or ‘when is Chan getting here? I’m excited to meet him’ everywhere I turned, impossible to escape. My mother had to intervene, the angel that she was. I couldn’t bring myself to answer their attacks, knowing no answer would suffice. I didn’t even have one myself, not really.

That night was a bur. All I could remember was my emotions taking control of my brain and my mouth. A flash of you’re home late again and I didn’t realize I had to answer to you and words coming out faster than either of us could think first about the repercussions, all things neither of us meant. Bitter tones, angry words, and a slammed door later, I told him I needed space. I didn’t mean months, but months I was given all the same. And then, he stopped completely. That was when I missed him the most. But by the time his calls and texts had faded, I was too late.

So now I was alone. Alone to face every holiday family gathering, every unbearable question, alone to fix this vice grip on everything good. Nothing helped. Not the condolence texts from his friends that had become like family while I was so far from mine. Eventually they stopped too, to be ignored at the bottom of my contact list. Sometimes I thought I missed them more than I missed him, but then I would find something of his left over in my pantry or bathroom and that thought would disappear faster than it came.

Today was no different than the past several months. Mug in hand and staring at the several books on my coffee table that I had started and left unfinished while trying to sleep. I couldn’t bring myself to pick one up, my favorite glaring at me from the center of it all. The comfort of the familiar pages was doing nothing for me. Nothing that used to bring me comfort from that time in my life, the need to find other things just another pressing matter to go to the top of the list.

Another thing to add, another day to get through, another passing hour to fill with menial tasks that mean nothing in the grand scheme of the pit that had become my life. Each day was the same, any day I wasn’t working was just looking forward to the next time I went in for something to fill my mind with. I believed the thoughts of him would die down eventually after all this time but they only dulled in how vivid they came back. Now they were just getting blurrier and fuzzier, details not coming in their entirety until I slept and my subconscious snuck them into my dreams. Then they came back in full force.

What I wasn’t expecting was a text from Hyunjin with a video attached.

Hyunjin: This is how it’s been. Please come home. We miss you.

The video was from a lower vantage point, clearly taken without the subject’s knowledge. The subject being my ex boyfriend, sitting at his desk at their studio and seemingly looking at the screen but not moving. His back was to the video so his face was hidden underneath the shadow of his hood pulled up.

“Chan-hyung?” A voice called from behind the camera. The hooded boy didn’t move, still staring at the screen. “Channie-hyung?” A few seconds passed, the image still the same, then the video ended and the picture of my ex was still on my palm-sized screen. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. It was the first time I’d seen him since he left. It was like I was still there, in his presence. I was sure if I just reached out, I could touch his shoulder and he would smile at me, like nothing had happened. Everything would be fine.

I couldn’t bring myself to click out of the video, so I just continued to stare until the screen became a blur and my cheeks were wet. I thought I couldn’t cry anymore, but as with everything lately, I was wrong. I hugged my phone to my chest and curled up against my couch pillow until I drifted off, chased by dreams of when my life was simpler, everything felt right, and I was in love.

My love was waiting for me, standing with his hands in his pockets, swaying to some song playing in his head and watching the people go by. His denim outfit was unusual but a welcome change to his wardrobe. The boardwalk was loud tonight, a carnival happening around me as I walked to him. The lights are bright and chatter even louder. Children walking around with cotton candy and all kinds of fried foods. I would have to convince him to try one with me, which wouldn’t take much. He always listened to me when it counted.

He was looking around expectantly. He had his closed-lipped smile on and his eyes were shining, from the reflection of the lights or something else that made my feet so light I was surprised I was still walking on the old wood. He was waiting for me, I just knew it. He was right there in front of me. If I could just get to him…

But the closer I got, the more he stayed at the same distance. Still waiting, still eager. I was walking, I knew it, but my feet weren’t moving. I looked down to see my feet now having some sort of gravitational pull of their own. I was lifting with all of my might, baffled by how this force had suddenly come to be, but it was no use. I glanced up to find him to call his name, somehow get his attention. But he was no longer leaning against the railing where I had spotted him. No, I thought. Not again.

I open my mouth to call his name but no sound comes out. My throat is empty of words, empty of air. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

My voice is lost. I am helpless. He is gone.

When my eyes finally cracked open, the tears I had cried in my subconscious broke the barrier into the real world. The trail of dried tears now made wet again. It was one thing to cry in my dreams, or nightmares, but for them to cross over and be made real…

I sat up, the moonlight now peering through my blinds. My empty cup sat on the table, as lonely as I felt. I was tired. I was so, so tired. Tired of being alone, tired of running from something I wanted. I wanted him back. I needed him. I couldn’t deny it anymore.

But it had been so long. Would he want to talk to me after all this time? Would he even have my number still? Was he trying to move one, but was unsuccessful?

Like me?

I moved my feet in the ground, finding a solid footing and relieved to feel no extra pull on them . It had been such a vivid dream, the beginning looking so familiar. One of our better days, that carnival was so fun. We both had eaten so much funnel cake that we got sick when we got home. Whether it was that or the four rides we went on after that, I didn’t know, but it was the first time I had the opportunity to take care of him for once. He didn’t let me very often, but seeing him lying on the bathroom tile awakened something in me that I couldn’t ignore. After that, I took any chance I could to do for him what he did for everyone else.

I missed that.

There wasn’t much else to do now. I could either stay in this place of severe depth, or do the one thing I knew would fix it. One of two things would happen: he would answer or he wouldn’t. I would have my answer either way.

I felt that familiar pull of gravity. Not on my feet but on my arms. And in the other direction. Before I could think too much, they were bringing the phone to my ear. It rang and rang and rang, going to voicemail eventually. I waited until the beep and said the only thing that came to mind.

“I miss you.”

And that was it. I hung up and left my phone on the table, going to my room where I could pretend I didn’t just do what I did. I ended up leaving it there all night long, trying to ignore it and drowning out my thoughts with mindless television and movies of peoples’ lives that felt much less complicated than mine.

Chan: I miss you too.

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mandos-mind-trick · 10 months

Text

Lost Time

Summary: Two years. Your soulmate has been missing for two years. After exhausting all your resources to look for him, you get a message from an old friend asking for help. Little do you know what's waiting for you when you arrive.

Pairing: Captain Gregor x reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, Gregor is a boob guy, mention of a brain injury, Gregor's past, major angst and feels, Soulmate AU

A/N: I know I said Echo was up next, but this one just came upon me out of nowhere. I've never written for Gregor before, and I've never really read much fic for him so I'm sorry if this is absolute trash. It's the shortest out of all of them so far cause I definitely don't feel confident in this. I gave it my best shot, and I hope it's at least palatable.

MASTERLIST

It’s been two years. Two long years since you’ve seen your soulmate. You remember sneaking into the supply closet, clinging onto him as he kissed you goodbye before he left for another battle.

If you had known that was the last time you’d see him, you would have held on longer.

The battle was one of the worst. You remember the defeat, the far too few troopers returning to the ship. You were kept busy, treating and aiding the battered troopers. You hadn’t noticed until later, when Coil had pulled you aside with the pity filled look in his eyes. You’ll never forget that look.

MIA. That was his official status. You know he’s not dead. You would know if he was, you would have felt it. There would be no hiding it. Besides, he had too many life points left when he’d walked away from you.

He’s not dead.

He’s missing.

You leave the army not long after.

They hadn’t even tried searching. You were slave to your duties, to hiding your connection, but it was driving you insane. They cared so little for the people laying down their lives for them every day. They won’t extend any searches, not wanting to risk staying in the area any more than they have to. They had lost the battle, and you had lost your soulmate.

You left the army, instead focusing your efforts on trying to find him. He had made it to a ship, but then he could have wound up anywhere. You exhausted every resource you had, spending every last dime you could afford trying to locate him.

You fail.

It’s like he vanished.

You know he’s still out there. You can feel it. He wouldn’t leave you like that.

Then the war ended. You knew something wasn’t right, things were happening that shouldn’t be. You didn’t trust the Empire, and so you had gone underground, trying to avoid them as much as possible. Your hunt for Gregor was over. There was no way you were going to find him now.

All you can do is trust that you’re going to cross paths again. Fate wouldn’t be that cruel, would it?

You stare at the number on your wrist in the dim light of your makeshift shelter. Life points, they were called, or a tracker of how many years you have left to live. You hadn’t known Gregor was your soulmate until you’d touched him for the first time, even though you both shared the same type of mark. His points had been lower than yours, significantly lower.

Despite your insistence, he hadn’t let you give him more points. It was possible to give points to your soulmate, shortening your life to lengthen theirs. You didn’t want to outlive Gregor, but he had refused to shorten your life for him. You knew he wouldn’t die in the war. He had too many years left. But the thought of living without him was too much. You didn’t want to outlive him, no matter how he died.

Your sweet, loyal Captain, out there somewhere. You wonder what happened to him, why you haven’t been able to find him. You wonder if he’s been looking for you, if by some sick chance you’ve been missing each other. Had he made it back to the GAR expecting you to be there? Had you made a mistake in leaving?

The doubts plagued your mind as the months passed without a sign of him. You’re determined fate won’t keep you apart, but still, you can’t help but question it in the dark of night as your thoughts run rampant.

“You think too much, cyare.” He’d said, playfully poking the wrinkle on your forehead. You had been lost in thought, curled up in his bunk with him during one of their brief shore leaves.

“I just worry.” You’d said, every mission he left on, every battle he fought in making your mind wander with thoughts of all the horrible things that could happen to him.

“Don’t worry about me.” He’d tried to console you, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

You can still feel him, even two years later. The rasp of his voice, the smell of him, the feel of his arms wrapped around you. You’ll never forget. Your mind, your body, your very soul yearns to have him again, to hold him, to kiss him, to feel his skin against yours just once more.

What you would give to make that happen.

***

You're shocked when Rex contacts you. You knew Rex from the few times you'd worked with the 501st. Gregor knew Rex too, and had only the highest praise for his fellow Captain.

You haven't heard from Rex since you defected. You haven't heard from anyone since then. That wasn't exactly the smartest move, especially if Gregor had somehow returned to the army. Burning those bridges probably wasn't the best, but you could be arrested for desertion if the wrong person knew how to find you. That would have put both you and Gregor in danger.

You're not sure exactly how Rex got ahold of you, but you replay his comm message over and over. It's hardly more than a location and a request for assistance. It could be a trap. Anyone or anything could be waiting for you there.

Or it could be someone.

You decide to go. If nothing else, perhaps Rex could help you rekindle your search. Or, maybe he already knew where to find Gregor.

You make for the location, your heart pounding in your chest. You feel sick with nerves, hands shaking as you land your piece of junk near the location. You steady your nerves, tucking your blaster into the back of your pants before you leave the ship.

Almost immediately you're greeted by two troopers with blasters. Is this it? Has the Empire caught up to you? You're not sure what they would want from you, except maybe to uphold punishment for deserting the Republic's Army. Or perhaps your reluctance to register in their system.

"What is your business here?" One of the troopers asks. They're not dressed like the troopers you've seen in passing. Their armor is worn and painted still.

You state your name, lifting your hands in surrender. "Rex sent for me."

They share a look before lowering their blasters, the one that had spoken motioning for you to follow with his head. You follow them through the trees, down the path towards what looks like an abandoned building. It’s not abandoned, though, many troopers mulling about inside and out.

You’re led inside, Captain Rex approaching you. You remember him well, even if he looks a bit older, and more tired than the last time you’d seen him. You can only imagine how hard everything has been on him.

“Captain.” You say, greeting him. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“Thank you for coming.” Rex says. “I didn’t know if you would.”

“You said you need my help?” You frown a bit, not sure what you can offer that he probably doesn’t have already.

“Well, that’s only partially true.” He says. “I actually have a surprise.”

Your frown deepens as you stare at him. A surprise? What kind of surprise could he have?

“Hello, doll.”

Your body stiffens, breath catching in your throat. You stare at Rex wide eyed, a small smile forming on his face. Had you imagined it? Had you misheard something meant for someone else? You should turn, you should look. You’re too scared to move, too scared he’s not going to be there, that it’s all in your head.

Rex gives you a small nod, reassuring you as you begin to turn. Slowly, inch by inch you turn, half expecting nothing to be there.

It’s him. You know just by staring at him. Tears gather in your eyes as you look him over. He’s a bit thinner than you remember, but he’s no less defined. There’s dark circles under his eyes, wrinkles popping around his eyes as a smile tugs at his lips. He looks as much tired as he does relieved.

“Gregor?” You whisper, still trying to convince your brain this isn’t some dream, this isn’t some trick.

“It’s me.” He says, running a hand over his hair. He lets out a nervous giggle, eyes dropping to the floor. “It’s really me.”

He sounds different. His usual husky rasp is gone, his voice pitched higher than it had been before. A small frown pinches between your brows. What happened to him?

“You’re thinking too much, cyare.” He says, holding out a hand.

Your hand is shaking as you reach for him, tears blurring your vision. You’re pulled forward, body collapsing into his. He squishes you tight against his chest, your face pressing into his neck. He smells the same, just as you remember. Your legs wobble, nearly giving out as you cling to him. He holds you, his armor digging into your skin but you don’t care. It’s just another reminder he’s real.

“I looked for you for two years.” You sniffle, pulling back just slightly to look up at his face. “What happened to you?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a long story.” He says, letting out another giggle.

***

You’re coiled around him like a snake.

You’ve barely let go of him since your reunion, afraid he might disappear if you let go too long. You’re laying in a makeshift room on the base, stretched out on the cot together. It’s barely big enough for him, much less the two of you, but you don’t care. You don’t expect to be going far from him for a while.

He’s told you everything. What happened during the battle of Sarrish, crash landing on Abafar, his amnesia, the droids, the explosion, finding his way back to the Republic, signing up to train the new troopers, and then defecting and being imprisoned, then rescued, then brought here.

“I looked for you.” He says, hands trailing along your side. “Coil said you’d defected.”

“I was looking for you.” You say, curling a hand in his blacks. He’d ditched his armor, stacking it in a pile near the door. “I should have just stayed.” You say, shaking your head. “We could have been together sooner.”

“Don’t.” He frowns, tracing your lips with his thumb. “There’s no guarantee we would have seen each other then, either. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“I think I’m supposed to be the one saying that.” You say, leaning in closer to his face.

“I think you’re saying too much right now.” He murmurs, his hand sliding down to your thigh to tug you further on top of him.

You close the distance, pressing your lips to his. They’re slightly chapped, but they’re still just as you remember them being.

He pulls away, letting out another giggle. He squeezes his eyes closed, a frown forming on his face. “Sorry.”

You press yourself up so you’re seated over him, looking down at him. A brain injury, you think, your medical training coming back to you. You cup his cheek, tracing his soft skin. “Don’t.” His eyes meet yours, lips parting as he stares up at you. “I know you can’t control it.”

“I know I-I’m not-”

You shush him, lowering yourself so you’re face to face again. “You’re here.” You peck his lips softly. “That’s what matters to me.”

His hands grip your hips, holding you against him as his nose brushes yours. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“I think it was that cheesy pickup line the first time we met.”

He snorts, kissing you softly. “I didn’t think it would work.”

“Well,” You kiss him again. “Here we are.”

He stares up at you, his gaze darkening a bit. You can feel him getting hard against your thigh. “Here we are.”

“You must have really missed me.” You murmur.

“You have no idea.” He says, cupping the back of your head to pull you into a kiss.

This kiss feels different than the ones you’d shared before. The desperation, the urgency, the longing. Two years apart, two years with no idea when you’d see each other again. It’s too long, far too long to be apart after forming your bond. You need him, you need all of him, and judging from the bulge pressing against your thigh, he feels the same.

His hands slip under your shirt, rough fingers trailing along your spine. You shiver under his touch, a fire lighting under your skin. You shift so you’re straddling him, grinding against his bulge in desperation for any sort of friction you can get. He groans against your lips, tugging at your shirt.

You pull away long enough to strip out of your shirt and breastband, his hands immediately reaching for your breasts. You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning down again. He tugs you closer, your body falling against him so his face is buried between your breasts.

“Gregor.” You say exasperatedly, but you don’t move, letting him lay there for a moment.

“Sorry, doll.” He says, voice muffled by your breasts. “I missed these beautiful tits.”

“It’s okay.” You run your hand over his head. “Take your time.”

He wraps his arms around your back, squishing you tight against his face. You’re worried he might smother himself, but you know if he’s going to die, this would not be the worst way he could go out.

For a moment you think he might be asleep, but he releases you, letting you push yourself back up. His hands close around your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples. You bite your lip, staring down at him as he’s transfixed by your breasts. He was always obsessed with your breasts, his favorite body part of yours he’d told you once.

“Maker, I could stare at these all day.” He says, squeezing them gently.

“Well, fuck me first, then you can stare all you’d like.”

His eyes snap up to yours, his gaze darkening a bit. “Deal.” He says, releasing your breasts so he can sit up.

You tug his shirt over his head, trailing your fingers along his skin. You trace scars, new and old, every divot of his skin. His hands work on undoing your pants, and you sit back to help him tug them off. You push him onto his back, tugging his pants down his hips and over his thick thighs. He’s hard and leaking already, your hand closing around his length.

Oh how you’ve missed him.

You jerk his length a couple times, your own folds already slick and ready for him. You move yourself on top of him, lining him up before lowering yourself onto him. You sigh at the stretch, working your way slowly down his length. His hands rest on your thighs, holding onto you as he watches you.

You feel alive again, the tension leaving your body as you reconnect with him after so long. The distance you’d suffered is washing away, the bond between you strengthening once more.

“Feel so good, doll.” He groans, hands sliding up your thighs to grip at your hips.

“Missed you.” You breathe, bracing yourself on his stomach. “Missed you so much.”

“No idea how much I missed you.” He groans as you begin to move, rocking yourself on his cock.

You curse quietly, extending your movements until you’re bouncing on his cock. He watches you, eyes focused on your body as you fuck yourself on him. He loves watching you, loves letting you take your pleasure from him. He wished you’d had more chances before. Having to keep his distance while simultaneously so close to him was torture.

He doesn’t have to worry about that now. You two can be together without having to fear any repercussions. No one’s going to tear you apart now.

He pulls your body down against his, wrapping his arms around your back to hold you as he lifts his hips, beginning to thrust into you. You let out the most beautiful noises as he fucks you, your fingers digging into his shoulders. He grunts at the bite of your nails, but he doesn’t stop, wanting to feel you cum around him.

“So good,” He groans. “So good for me, mesh’la.”

“Gregor!” You cry, your clit dragging against his pelvis with every thrust. “I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me.” He moans, breath panting against your ear. “Wanna feel you.”

You shake as you cum, spasming around him. His own hips stutter, the tightness of your walls milking his own orgasm from him. He groans loudly, stilling as he spills inside you. You let out breathy little moans at the feeling, going limp against him.

He strokes your skin, staying still under you. He had missed you so kriffing much. He had been determined to find you, determined to track you down, even if he had to scour the entire galaxy. He had been elated when Rex told him he’d already contacted you before he’d picked him up from Ord Mantell.

“Gregor,” You breathe his name, your warm breath fanning across his chest.

He sits up, holding you in his lap. “Yes, doll?”

You shift just slightly, hand closing around his bicep. “I love you.”

He kisses your forehead, the skin damp with sweat. “I love you too.”

His muscles tense when he feels a tickling sensation on his wrist. He lifts his warm, watching as the number on his wrist changes, increasing significantly. He grips your arms, pulling away from you slightly.

“What did you do?” He asks, grabbing your arm to stare at the number on your skin.

The numbers are the same now, still far more than he’d had before.

“I can’t live without you.” You say, blinking teary eyes up at him. “I don’t want to.”

“Doll...” He says, staring at the two numbers. He never wanted you to give up time for him. He didn’t think he was worth it.

You cup the back of his neck, drawing his gaze back to yours. “I wanted to do it. I lived two years without you. I don’t want to spend any more time apart.”

He blinks at you, tears filling his eyes. He pulls you tight against his chest, pressing his lips to yours. “I don’t deserve you.” He murmurs against your lips.

“You do.” You say, kissing all over his face. “You deserve this and so much more.”

He holds onto you, flipping you on the small cot so you’re on your back, his body resting on top of you. He presses his face back against your breasts, resting there. “You promised.”

You can’t help but laugh, letting your fingers trail over his face. “I did. I did promise.”

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry @6oceansofmoons @ladytano420 @spicy-clones @kaminocasey @dangraccoon @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @stunkbiggu @endofthexline @padawancat97 @rosechi @arctrooper69

#star wars #star wars fic #the clone wars #the clone wars fic #captain gregor x reader #captain gregor #x reader #soulmate au

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moonlightazriel · 4 months

Text

Son of the Darkness XXI /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Hidden for so long The court of shadows thrived, and things were great until the high lord's death, now the next in line should assume the crown of high lord of shadows, will he accept his duties?

Warnings: More war…. Yeah I’m sorry

Word Count: 1,6K

Notes: THE WAR IS FINALLY OVER! I couldn’t write more of this I was getting crazy. And I’m sorry to say that the last chapter comes out on Sunday 😭

Son of the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Her heart hammered against her rib cage, so hard that it was almost knocking out the air from her lungs. Her eyes were fixed on Azriel, her head felt dizzy, and she began to feel overwhelmed by her surroundings and the feelings flooding her chest like a wave.

“WATCH OUT!” Someone yelled, bringing her back to the reality, she barely had time to move, the side of the enemy’s sword hitting her, making it even hard to breath, she lifted her sword, shoving it in the male’s skull as she tried to focus again, she didn’t have the time to think about it.

“Are you okay?” Someone asked and she looked up, seeing the orange colours of the autumn court armour, Eris seemed concerned behind his helmet, his hands were on her shoulders but his gaze was fixed on something else. “Get down!” He ordered and she did, he raised his hand, and she felt the warm atmosphere as he burned the man behind her, the screams and the smoke filled her senses.

“I just need to breathe.” She said in between gasps for air. Her chest felt tight and she felt herself dangerously nearing a panic attack.

“Then do it, I’ll cover you.” Eris said, her hands removed her helmet as she took a deep breath, the fresh breeze hit her face and she exhaled. The sound of the battle kept around her, but she could only focus on the thread on her chest, made of darkness, that connected her to her High Lord as long as they lived, the perfect match made by the Mother herself.

Her mind was racing for many reasons, but one question was burning brighter in her brain, daring to be asked, begging to be asked. Did Azriel know about the bond that sang along her soul, claiming for him?

A flicker of wings sounded and she looked up, seeing Azriel landing in front of her, concern filled her chest as he approached her searching for any injuries. He removed his own helmet.

“Are you hurt?” His voice was raspy from all the effort. Y/N didn’t answer, her heart was beating fast as she reached for the truth-teller, she knew what she wanted to do. The thoughts were racing in her mind, the fear of impending death lingered in the air, if she was to die, she would die letting him know that she loved him and that she accepted him fully.

She pulled the dagger from the holster, sliding it in her own palm, cutting it open, Azriel watched in shock as she grabbed his hand, doing the same. She held his hand, their blood mixing together.

“In our court, the bonds are only completely accepted with blood.” She held their hand up, fingers laced together. “You are my blood, my heart and my soul, and I am your blood, your heart, your soul, for eternity.”

Azriel couldn’t say anything as the bond in his chest shone with life, the love filling his heart so pure he couldn’t believe, she had accepted the bond, they were one from now until the day they died. He leaned his head down, kissing her tenderly, this was everything he could wish for.

“I love you!” He said and he rested his forehead against hers. But she was quickly to part away from him when she saw Eris defend another death blow that was meant for them, she shoved everything aside, closing her end of the bond, her helmet in her head, and her sword tight in her hands, she got ready to go back to battle. Fire and darkness fought side by side as Eris burned people down and she unreleased her magic, the shadows making soldiers fall to their knees, scraping their throats in search for air, and Azriel slashed them with his sword, his syphons glowing as he felt a new wave of energy curse through his body.

The energy consuming him was different from everything he ever felt, like a fresh breath of air was forced into his lungs, it felt like he was seeing everything for the first time, and he enjoyed what he saw. Something else burned ever brighter inside of him, and all he could see and smell it was her. The mating frenzy had started.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Y/N, Azriel and Eris fought as one, killing as many enemies as they could, however all of this didn’t seem enough, their armies kept coming, the battle kept going, more people dying by the second, and nothing seemed to work.

She felt the power being unleashed and saw the huge light creature that left the tent where Feyre should be, where the cauldron should be, something seemed different, wrong.

“Boys.” She touched the males and they turned to her, by the looks on Eris's face, he knew something was wrong, she could feel it too. “We have to go. Now!” The males followed her as she rushed to get to the tent, she felt weak, her magic slowly vanishing from her blood.

When they reached the tent, Y/N was the first to get in, the world seemed normal again, the war was over, the magic that kept the world working was back, she could feel as her blood boiled with the darkness. But she stopped herself, her mouth slacking open as she saw Feyre begging for the other High Lords to save Rhysand, his dead body laying limply on the floor. Azriel entered right after, stopping as he saw Rhys laying on the floor, Y/N turned around, getting in between him and Rhys, he looked at her, his eyes filled with tears as he watched the scene.

Y/N held him, the agony on her chest ten times bigger as his emotions overflowed her, even with both ends closed she could feel his grief, she could feel everything. The smell of flowers and earth filled her nostrils, Evanore had materialised herself in the middle of the room, gently pushing Feyre aside as she kneeled before Rhys.

“Az.” Y/N called, her hands forcing his chin up, forcing him to look at her, she was met with his red watery eyes, the look on his face so broken that she felt her own heart breaking inside her chest, grieving with him, even if she knew what was about to happen. “It’s going to be okay. Just breathe, he’s not dead.” She reassured him. Azriel looked at her confused, but she turned her head to the scene in front of him.

Evanore had cut her palm open, drawing the witches symbol with blood on Rhysand’s breastplate, everyone stood there, not daring to move a muscle as they watched the scene unfold.

“"Al la arbaro ni preĝas, al la naturo ni postulas, bonvolu doni al mi la potencon de la sep, lasu min vidi kaj lasu min diri." (To the forest we pray, to nature we claim, please give me the power of the seven, let me see and let me say.) She said, closing her eyes.

When Evanore opened her eyes again, everything was dark, there wasn’t sky or floor, it felt like she was floating in the cold veils of death, wandering around, many souls claimed for her, begging her to take them with her, but she couldn’t, at least not yet.

“Rhys! Rhys Kie vi estas?” (Where are you?) She yelled into the endless void. “Vi ne mortos, ankoraŭ ne estas via tempo, vi devas veni kun mi.” (You won't die, it's not your time yet, you have to come with me.) She called his name a few times, until she heard a response, she rushed, running until she found him in a corner, looking like a lost little boy. “Vi venas kun mi.” (You’re coming with me.)

They heard her, but the only thing they could understand was that she was calling Rhys. She was one of the Seven, she could do it, Y/N knew that. She placed her palms on his chest, calling his name, one, two, three times, they could feel as they crossed the veil between the living and the dead, Rhysand’s eyes flashed open and he gasped for air. Evanore had just brought him back from the dead.

It felt like everyone collectively breathed again, Feyre was sobbing on top of his chest, while Rhysand held Amren’s hand, she was shaking and wet from the cauldron. Azriel breathed with relief, and all those overwhelming feelings were quickly turning into the burning passion again, his brother was fine and the war had ended.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Two days later and Azriel was almost going insane, his hands were shaking and his whole body was sweating, energy zipped through him, and he was snappier than he ever was. Two days after Y/N accepted the bond, all he wanted to do was scoop her in his arms and take her somewhere to be alone.

The witches have been healing, bringing people back, and the armies have dissipated, slowly marching towards their homes. He left their tent, going to look for her, he couldn’t control himself anymore. Taking steady breaths, he felt his blood boil when she found her next to Eris, the two chatting.

She handed him a wine jug, slowly inclining towards him and whispering in his ear, “To solve all of your problems.” His shadows have heard, which problems he had that she could fix? And then he understood, this is how she would fulfill her part on their bargain, that would kill Beron. Anyone could poison a wine, no one would ever know how it got there and who was responsible.

Eris pulled his mate for a hug, that’s when he lost it, marching towards them and pulling her with Jonny the waist, abruptly parting the hug. He threw her over her shoulder while she gasped in shock. Cassian and Rhysand shared a knowing look as they saw his brother winnow away with her in his arms.

To finally consume the mating bond.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @allison-rosewood-maximoff @devilsfoodcake22 @fieldofdaisiies @valeridarkness @brekkershadowsinger @margssstuff @patdsinner33 @justdreamstars @dr4g0ngirl

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #moonlightazriel #azriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #night court #azriel x y/n #velaris #son of the darkness #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster

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the-hufflepuffle · 6 months

Text

Incorrect God of War Quotes

(Some from a generator, some conversations I had)

🪓

Kratos: you have to apologize to Mimir

Freya: fine.

Freya to Mimir: "unfuck you" or whatever

🪓

*Sif and Thrud skipping rocks*

Sif: it's such a beautiful night

Thrud: take that you fucking lake

🪓

Kratos: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?

Atreus: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies

Freyr: Socks are Feetie Heaties

Mimir: Forks are Stabby Grabbies

Atreus: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties

Freyr: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies

Mimir: Stamps are Lickie Stickies

Freya, annoyed: You are disappointments

🪓

Kratos: had a realization today

Freya: what?

Kratos: someone asked me what I'd do if I had a week to live

Freya: yeah and?

Kratos: I'd go into the woods, die and let the earth reclaim me.

Freya: yeah okay. You'll need to tell me when you're doing that.

Kratos: why, I'm dying at the end of jt its not camping

Freya: it's cute you think I'm a.) Gonna let you die alone and b.) Die without setting a marker for me and Atreus to find and visit you

Kratos, defeated: yes maam

Freya: because we know how it'll go if you do that

Kratos, still defeated: you'll bring me back, and then kill me yourself

Freya: I'm glad we understand each other.

🪓

Freyr: Whaddya call a fish with no eye?

Freya, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons

Freyr:

Freyr: fsh

🪓

Atreus : You are irrationally angry 365 days a year.

Thrud: Well, that’s just your personal opinion, I don’t have anger issues. Do you guys think I have anger issues?

Skjoldr: Well, I wouldn’t really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix.

🪓

Thrud: I made this leather pouch and then I made another one and

Sif: we don't even need a DNA test that's all you

Thor: yeah...I know

🪓

Warflower kid, age 7: Atreus, what are you doing?

Atreus, doing a kids puzzle and teasing: I'm figuring out this puzzle. It's clearly 3 different puzzles.

WF kid: uh... no it isnt

Atreus: prove it

WF kid: okay (finds puzzle pieces) ahem

Atreus: go ahead prove it

*a couple minutes later*

WF kid: see?

Atreus: I guess you proved me wrong bud.

WF kid: yeah I did *keeps playing with other toys*

Atreus: I love you bud

WF kid: I love you too. *turns to look* do you really think it was 3 puzzles?

Atreus: yup.

🪓

Odin: hey, Balder come here. Is this flour or powdered sugar?

Balder: it's flour.

Odin: hiw do you know?

Balder: because I can tell by looking at it?

Odin: taste it

Balder, tasting flour: ew why? What was the purpose? That's nasty

Odin: now you know it's flour.

Balder: I ALREADY KNEW IT WAS FLOUR

🪓

Kratos: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers?

Freya : Peonies, why?

Kratos:

Freya : Were you going to get me flowers?

Kratos:

Freya :

Kratos: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

🪓

*watching the new Hunger Games*

Atreus: *looks over at Thrud about to say something*

Thrud: *mocking the little voice saying "enjoy the show"*

Atreus: listen I was literally gonna tell you how we would suck in the hunger games cause we'd be marching in there fucking making fun of the little voice each time it went off

Thrud: honestly yeah. Then I'd kill you

Atreus: what?

Theud: we've discussed this. I don't want you living with the trauma of the Hunger Games. Mercy killing.

Atreus: I don't know whether to be afraid or touched.

🪓

Freya: I am the left brain, I am the left brain. "I work really hard until my inevitable death" brain. You've got a job to do, you better do it right and the right way is with the left brain's might.

Freyr: I LIKE OREOS AND PUSSY-

🪓

Freya: and if anything happens we blame Heimdal

Heimdal: wait why-

Freya: you are a smaller version of the man I hate!

🪓

WF kid: how long have you been married?

Kratos: 4 years

WF kid: *big gasp* but I'm 6

🪓

#god of war #god of war ragnarok #gow atreus #gow baldur #gow freya #gow kratos #gow mimir #gowfreyr #gow odin #gow thrud #warflower

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

Losing My Cool

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: shortie short but I’ve already got another part half finished 🤠 fic named after this song

Summary: What do they say about all good things? [1.1k]

Warnings: yearning idiots, probably incorrect interview technique, idk what else

A PA brings you over to your mark and instructs you to stay there until your name gets called, which seems simple enough, but she stays nearby to make sure you don't wander. It feels a little silly to always have to be babysat, but you brush it off, smoothing your hands down your blue dress and taking deep breaths. You've done late-night shows before, but they still make you nervous, especially since you know just how many people watch them. Ryan sent you a video of Elizabeth sitting in front of the TV, watching an ad for tonight's show, and cheering when she saw your name and face. So, who knows who else might be watching if your five-year-old goddaughter is?

You can hear the introductory remarks, laughter, and applause that come with them, but you miss the voices whisper-arguing behind you. They die down by the time your brain wraps around the sounds and decide to stay focused. And you do. You run through what you want to say about the movie, fun anecdotes, and easy ways to skate around questions about Joel. You feel settled and prepared until familiar hands wrap around your middle, making you jump and turn in his arms.

"You're gonna get me in trouble," you say, and Joel smirks.

"I had to convince the production assistant to let me come kiss my girlfriend for good luck."

"You're getting fast and loose with that term, huh?"

"D'you want me to stop?" He asks, his thumbs swiping over your hips, and you shake your head.

"I kinda like it."

"Good," Joel says as the band starts playing, and you push at his shoulders. He quickly kisses you, his hand lingering on your lower back for a second longer than necessary, before rushing away with a mischievous look on his face. "Kick some ass!'

You laugh at the sentiment as your name gets called from the front of the stage, and the curtain opens enough to let you walk through. You smile and wave to the audience members as you walk over and shake Jimmy's hand. "Thank you so much for being here," he says so only you can hear, and you smile. The band vamps until you sit in the plush chair beside his desk and accept the applause when he repeats your name.

"It's so great to see you! You look fantastic!" He says, and you smile as you run your hands over the skirt of your dress.

"Thank you! I'm so happy to be here."

"Well, we are very lucky to have you. You've been a very, very busy lady these past few years. When was the last time you were in New York?" He asks, and you puff out your cheeks as you think.

"At least four or five years."

"And you went to school out here, right?"

"Yeah, I graduated from NYU. I was lucky enough to earn a full ride on a merit-based scholarship which doesn't happen very often, and once I graduated, I did a few projects here in the city before getting my first movie deal out in LA."

"That's amazing! And since then, you have been nonstop. I mean, you are everywhere. And you have a new movie coming out called Red Dirt Girl," he says as he holds up a picture of the movie poster, and the audience cheers at the image. You reach out to boop Lilly's nose and feel yourself smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt, but you're so happy. For once, it feels genuine. "What was it like to work on this film?"

"It was just the opportunity of a lifetime. We filmed out west around the Colorado-New Mexico border, and I hadn't even been out there, so it was so fun getting to know that area and working with the cast and crew. I mean, it was just like coming to work and having fun for twelve hours a day, and then we all lived in the same building, so we would just keep hanging out, and we got to be really close."

"And the girl who plays your sister, Lilly Porter, is just phenomenal for someone as young as she is. Did you find yourself getting protective of her?"

"Oh, absolutely. Lilly just turned sixteen about a month ago, but when we were filming, she had just turned fourteen, so she was really young, and I hadn't worked with someone that young that closely. And we had a day where we just sat down and talked for hours, and she's such an old soul, and she's so smart, but, I mean, we both know how hard the industry can be. So, I set her up with people I trust and gave her advice I wish someone had given me. I got really close with her family, and, of course, they are fantastic people as well. So, it was a learning curve for both of us, but she is an amazing, beautiful person, and I'm so lucky that I got to work with her. I totally consider her a little sister now."

"Which is ironic considering that you guys butt heads so much in this movie."

"Oh, yes, we do."

"Let's take a look at this clip here," he says as a short clip from the movie comes up on the screen behind you. Lilly's character, Sabrina, is arguing with your character, Jo, about getting sent home from school because of her behavior. Lilly perfectly portrays the annoying little sister as she stomps through the house, making sarcastic comments and driving you up the wall. The clip ends with Sabrina telling Jo that she's just like their mother, which obviously, hits Jo right where it hurts. You smile and clap along with the audience as the clip ends. "Wow! I mean, just fantastic! Were those scenes hard to shoot?"

"The scenes where we were fighting were really hard to film because I just love her so much, and I never wanted to yell at her, but Lilly was absolutely brilliant because she would do a new thing each time we shot the scene that would completely throw me off. So, like, one time she knocked over a chair or slammed the door so hard that pictures fell off the wall, and it would startle me each time, and then it was pretty easy to access that anger after that." You laugh, remembering the time you accidentally did raise your voice because she scared the shit out of you.

"And did the director tell her to do that?"

"No, she just did it! And Peter, the director, was just sitting there like," You cross your arms over your chest and lean back in the chair, copying the famous Peter Jankowski slouch, and nod, pretending to chew gum. "And like, that's it! Which is great! You always want a director that will let you try things, but I was given no warning." Jimmy laughs at the story and seamlessly transitions into a commercial break.

The rest of the interview goes smoothly, with you promoting the movie and even playing a game where you had to answer New York City trivia facts. Appearances like this can actually be really fun when they're done right, and you always have a good time when you're on the Tonight Show. As you're leaving the stage, Jimmy tells you that you and Joel have to get dinner with him and his wife the next time you're in the city, and you agree, knowing that it will probably never happen.

You're excited to see what Joel will say about how things went, but when you go backstage, he's nowhere to be found. You don't find him immediately in the wings where you left him or in your dressing room. You almost ask the PA if she saw him leave, but she's dealing with five million other things, and you doubt she would've noticed even if he did. You furrow your brows as you fish your phone from your purse and type out a quick message to Joel.

Hey! Where are you? I just got done.

The message delivers even though his phone is on Do Not Disturb. You think about calling him but figure he might've just gone back to the hotel room before you. Paparrazi gets pictures of you leaving the studio alone and shouts questions at you, wanting to know where Joel is. You don't answer. You just get in the car and try to get back to the hotel as fast as possible. Truthfully, you're a little embarrassed. You looked around for him like a lost puppy backstage, and now you're just dutifully returning to the hotel to look for him. It also doesn't help that you were photographed arriving with him but not leaving with him. You can feel Melanie's migraine from here.

When you scan into the hotel room, all of Joel's stuff is gone. His clothes, shoes, and even his razor have all disappeared. You were there for an hour, maybe less, and he just left? Your phone buzzes in your purse, and you quickly pull it out to see a text from Joel.

Ellie had an emergency. On the first flight back. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you.

You sigh, plop down on the now too-big bed, and kick off your heels.

No worries. Take care of your baby. I'll see you when I get back.

Thank you. I owe you.

You don't owe me anything, Super Dad. Just text me when you get home, and keep me updated. Let me know if you or Sarah need anything.

He starts typing something before deleting it and then typing again. For a moment, you two stare at the same screen, waiting for the other to say something even though he's at the airport and you're in an empty hotel room. Your heart clenches in your chest as he types and types and types, just for the bubble to disappear as fast as he did.

#one for the money two for the show #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #tlou au #the last of us au #joel miller x female reader #rockstar!joel miller #rockstar!joel

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onlyseokmins · 2 years

Text

[14:46] • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader

Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship kind of ig hehehe

Warnings: possessiveness, jealousy, mean!seok but he's whipped kind of, slapping, WAP LMFAO, choking again but fr, a tiny bit of degradation, bulge kink, mentions of oral (male receiving), slight overstimulation, mentions of voyeurism but not really, he doesn't cum inside but reader wants him to fjskdjf, cum eating lort, kinda soft at the end... as usual just hmu if I missed smth

WC: tumblr mobile bby it's kinda short again?? Maybe?

A/N: another unplanned thing but a continuation of this because mean seok lives rent-free in all our brains esp mine on god 😭 i think he'd be mean solely if his buttons were pressed enough anyways i love procrastinating on the wips I'm creating. God don't come for me AT ALL YO I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING 😭 ACTUALLY THIS ISN'T EVEN MY FAULT IT'S YOURS!!!

Seokmin's even crueler once he bottoms out.

Soft little kisses dotting your neck turn to harsh sucks and bites with the intent to have you lean the back of your head on his shoulder. Which you do, surrendering your entire body to his brutal assault.

His fingers pinch and pull at your nipples before he slaps your tits lightly to watch them bounce from the impact paired with a sharp thrust as his hips snap away and then back up into your warm cunt. Where it belongs.

He doesn't like being mean. Really.

But fury surges in his veins once more when he recalls the way the bartender tried to flirt with you. Leering like a creep at your curves. The frisky clubgoers letting their hands linger a little too long on your ass for his liking. Squishing unnaturally against the front of your body, casual talking as if it's not an excuse to get a sneaky look down your cleavage.

You're gorgeous, he knows that. Well aware of your allure. He fell for it. Hard.

But it's not like you're alone. His arm had been wrapped around your waist all night, shooting challenging glares in every direction because you are his.

Seokmin growls lowly in your ear and your pussy can't help but flutter helplessly around him.

He smirks. It's his dick your soaking cunt is speared on, his hands running up and down your body, his tongue tangling with yours when you tilt your head and kiss along his jawline until he leans down to meet your lips.

Your wetness that he usually likes to drown in, but instead merely played with earlier, leaks down both of your thighs. Every shallow thrust causes more to drip from your hole with a filthy squelch.

Absolutely messy.

He loves it.

"Feel good, baby? No one can fuck you like I do, right?"

"Mhm, yeah... so good. So full. Love it."

"Tell me what you like about me." Your eyelashes flutter as you struggle to focus and comprehend his question. "What made you choose me out of any bastard that would die to have you in his arms? Hm? What made this tight pussy want to swallow up my dick?"

Seokmin's been insecure ever since the first time you met him despite the fact later that night you were sucking him off in the bathroom of the club. Who knows. You'll never fully get it. But he always fucks the brains out of you whenever he's worried you may slip away from his grasp.

You know you'll be sore and have bruises for days. Delicious.

"L-love your smile."

"Yeah?"

"You're so... so kind."

"That so?" A hand returns to wrap around your neck although he doesn't squeeze like earlier. "I'm nice to you baby?"

"Ah, so nice... so sweet," you assure although a lazy smirk is on your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head in delirium. "So lovely."

He chuckles darkly. "I adore how highly you flatter me but I'm not sure you'll think I'm so kind after this. So tell me, sweetheart. Why do you really like me."

"I — "

Seokmin cuts you off with a real squeeze to your throat, temporarily blocking your airflow. If you weren't feeling lightheaded before, you definitely are now. Floating in that happy little bubble you always find yourself in whenever he lets out his envious side.

When Seokmin snaps, the world pauses to watch him wreck you in awe.

Of course, no one's actually watching. To your knowledge. Although, he's fucking you stupid so who really can tell. But also, why would Seokmin ever divulge such a beautiful sight for anyone else's gaze?

You. Are. His. Alone.

"Or should I say what do you like about me?"

He releases his grip and trails his hand almost lovingly past your breasts and pauses just above your lower abdomen. Peeking over your shoulder, he groans at how he can see himself move within you as he grinds his hips, pelvis rubbing intimately across your ass.

"Huh, baby?" He rasps in your ears and you both moan in tandem when his hand brushes over the bump the tip of his dick causes and you clench impossibly tight. "Gonna answer me, beautiful?"

"L-love your dick in-inside me!"

"Uh-huh."

"No one... No one can fuck you like me, Seokminie. No one h-has a dick so perfect l-like yours is."

"That's right." Your neck is attacked with kisses, nibbles, licks, and bites. "Don't you forget it."

"I would n-never."

"I won't let you. Won't let this pretty pussy forget. Carve my name into this sweet cunt of yours for years to come."

"Mhm, Seokmin..."

"You'd love that wouldn't you."

"Yes!"

"Then cream on my cock, baby. Hm? Make me yours as well?"

His pace is brutal, speeding up as he eggs you on. You whine, reaching your arm around his neck to tug on his the tiny hairs on his nape as you feel the coil burning in your gut snap.

When Seokmin feels you let go, he bends you over doggy style. Hips slamming unforgivingly although his quiet whispers of assurance soothe you through the sensitivity that makes you clamp even harder around him. He can barely squeeze in but he makes it work, opting to slide his aching cock between your plush thighs.

You sob out though when you feel his release spurt out along your thighs. He usually makes sure to cum inside since you're on the pill and you're both safe. Slyly moving your hips, you try to slip his dick back inside to catch the last drops but Seokmin catches on with a click of his tongue.

"You're too sensitive for me, sweetheart." He flops down on his side, pulling you with him. Turning in his arms, you face him with a pout and he wrinkles his brow. "What?"

"I thought you wanted to stake your claim on me?"

His hand shoots down to wipe some of the cum off with a frown. "But I did?"

"You always do it inside."

"Well now everyone can see it clearly."

"Seokmin!"

A hesitant kiss is placed on your nose. "Kidding. Just rest a bit now."

You roll your eyes, grabbing his hand. Keeping eye contact, you lick his fingers clean. His eyebrows are still furrowed, eyes darkening at each kitten swipe of your tongue and light sucking you do as if he's still on edge. But the way the corners of his mouth tilt up fails to hide the lovely smile you're fond of.

Running a hand through his bangs and then cupping his cheek, you smile as well when he leans into your touch.

"I love you, you know? You don't have to worry about anything, I'm yours and you're mine, right?"

Seokmin's eyes flash back open and he suddenly doesn't meet your gaze, shy as if he didn't fuck you crazy enough to see stars. But despite all of that, intimate post-sex moments like these make your heart beat the fastest.

"I know... I love you too."

You press a kiss against his lips, smiling. "But I won't be opposed to you going crazy like this again, maybe I'll still let guys flirt with me if this is how you'll act."

His arms tighten firmly around you as he whines your name in protest. "Don't you dare."

"I won't my sweet boy," you giggle. "I wasn't lying at all, though. Everything is true. You're the only one for me."

His voice is small when he thanks you, burying his head in your neck to hide his embarrassment. It's all so endearing, every side to him. No matter what, you wouldn't change or leave Seokmin ever.

#ez.creates #lee seokmin smut #lee dokyeom smut #dk smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut #seokmin smut #dokyeom smut #svt.smut

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bearhugsandshrugs · 3 months

Text

I wrote a Durgetash concept (a proper one this time) that I like.

A Durge (Liv) who never enjoyed being Bhaal’s chosen. A cocky Gortash who never touched her. A city that despises both of them, but needs them, all at the same time.

Anyway here it is under the cut. Let me know what you think. Maybe I’ll continue it. It would definitely be much, much darker/angstier than what I usually write.

Liv dreamed of death but all she knew was dying. The way her foster parents’ life drained out of their eyes, slowly, the horror absurdly mixed with love as their throats gurgled out sounds of regret.

The massacred bard, Alfira, so young and so hopeful, bleeding to death by her hand. The faces of unnamed strangers, too many to count, too faded to remember, all of their dying sounds mingling into an echo of brutal white noise that waited for her when she went to bed.

Liv knew dying well. Not only by those who she’d killed, murdered, but also by living. Every day under her father’s thrall and command had felt like dying, over and over again, until only fragments of her had been left, jumbled together into a big mess after she’d survived her own sister’s attempt at her life.

Her first thought on that nautiloid had been that she would have preferred to die, but no such wish had been granted. Of course not. Instead, a soothing voice had spoken, had reached out to her, and channeled her with energy so she could give life where others took it.

That’s how she’d become a cleric.

Still. Even after freeing herself from Bhaal, even after defeating the Netherbrain and surviving attack after attack, Liv did not feel like she was living. How could she? Her memories were still a big, unrelenting question mark. Her feelings were untrustworthy. Her dreams were nightmares.

And now, to top it all off, she’d have to decide whether or not she would cut herself loose from all ties to her old life, or if she would naively cling to what remained. Or what seemed to remain.

Today, she would have to decide if she would pardon Gortash.

The Parliament of Peers had asked her for her decision for several tendays and she’d avoided them again and again. She’d started ruling over the city in Enver’s stead, firm but forgiving, too forgiving for some. Not everyone had wanted to see Gortash in the dungeon, and even more had wanted to see both her and him dead.

Liv hadn’t visited him yet. Hadn’t spoken to him. Every time she spoke to him she felt like drowning. Out of all the ways to die, choking on water until it filled up one's lungs was by far her least favorite. There was too much of the world spilling into you from the outside until all you could do was surrender and succumb, unlike other ways of dying where your last breath left you and fled into the outside world.

No matter. It would have to be done.

Making her way over to the highly guarded and separate wing of the palace she once again rolled her eyes over the fact that they’d opted to keep him in comfort in the palace. Nobility might wanted revenge on him, but they would always want to protect their own status more. He would never rot in a dungeon, because if he could, so could they.

They should all rot, as far as Liv was concerned. None of them had stopped them.

She barged into the library he spent his days in without knocking or waiting, strolling in without a care. Gortash was hunched over a book but looked up when he saw her, standing up reluctantly as a mocking show of respect.

“My favorite assassin”, he mocked the greeting he had offered her when she’d returned and interrupted his coronation. “Here I was thinking yet another one of your wretched siblings had gotten to you, potentially destroying the last parts of your messy brain that were left.”

He was wrinkling his nose as he spoke, eye brows pinched together, and water started to rise up to Liv’s nose.

“Missed having someone to run your insane plans by so much?” She sat down in one of the chairs on the other side of the room, then pointed to the one next to her, making him walk over. A smug smile curled around his lips as he sat down.

“What plans, dear? I’m a dead man walking.” He met her gaze and lowered his voice. “So, in other terms, your wet dream.”

“Gods, Enver”, Liv scoffed at the blatant attempt to rile her up. “You’re not helping your case.”

He chuckled and water got into her nose, and she coughed to fight the blush creeping up her cheeks. She hated how her body responded to him. How some part of her wanted him, on a level so fundamental that it scared her. Especially since she couldn’t remember any part of them ever crossing the line of colloquial work, no matter how hard she tried.

“Tell me then: What would help my case?” Gortash leaned back in his chair, still trying to negotiate his way out of this. Of course.

“I can’t keep you here as a constant reminder of Baldur’s Gate’s nobility’s shame. They won’t tolerate it”, she started, thinking out loud. “I can’t sentence you to death because I would be next”, she continued, realizing for the first time that she actually wanted to live. Her analysis earned her a thoughtful nod from Enver, along with a soft hum. “So I’m at kind of a standstill.”

“You could banish me”, he offered, smirking.

“Oh sure”, Liv rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you take a vacation while I’m left to fix the mess you made.”

His eyes sparkled in response. “Fair”, he chuckled. “In that case why don’t you let me earn my redemption? Give something to do. Let me earn my survival. Soothe over some public misconceptions as I work to stay alive.”

She bit her lip. Exasperated, she took a slow exhale, considering his words. It was annoying how good of an idea it was. Water filled up her lungs and she had to take deliberate breaths to calm the rising panic.

“What should you be working on?” Nothing she could come up with would be without risks. If she wasn’t careful he’d simply scheme to unseat her and take her place again. His place.

“Whatever you want, dear”, he murmured, grinning. “Though I have heard that your reconstruction efforts in the city have not been going as smoothly as you had planned.”

“Sure, so you want me to put you to work in the rubble? Carry some stones? Bane knows you could use the workout, you look scrawny.”

Gortash flinched at the mention of his former god, or maybe at her insult, or the idea of manual labor. Still, he nodded.

“If that keeps me alive: Yes.”

Liv looked away and shook her head. “I need to think about it”, she said quietly, rising to leave. Opposite of her, Gortash stood in parallel, hands clasped behind his back.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long”, he teased, “As you can tell I am quite busy.”

She stifled a laugh with all her might and turned to leave. “Behave yourself, will you?”, she called over her shoulder when she got to the door.

“Never”, he called back, voice a boyish charm.

The world was so far removed from her she barely could make out its sounds and shapes. Liv had been dragged under water, drowning, dying, surviving. Oh, how she hated this. Oh, how she hated him.

#enver gortash #my writing #durgetash #gortash x durge #i’m still trying to find a durge i like #i think a durge just hating to be a durge is it

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fairy-writes · 1 year

Text

Vampire!Viktor x Female!Reader 05

i decided not to link the past parts of this series. i don’t want like a million links on my post.

so!

all parts of this series are tagged under cryptid!viktor

cryptid!viktor also includes my pieces with merman!viktor

MORE DOCTOR WHO QUOTES

TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of suicide.

“how old are you?” you ask one day as you watch viktor tinker. you lay on your stomach on his bed, head resting on your folded arms as you watch the vampire work. your skirts are splayed out behind you, and you had kicked your shoes off before climbing onto the furniture. you had been correct. it was the most comfortable bed you had ever laid on.

you didn’t ask him what he was working on; you discovered that he wasn’t one to talk about what his inventions did. only what gears and objects they contained.

viktor pauses in his work, not raising his eyes from his current invention. it’s a mess of gears and wires, and his long, slender fingers are stained with grease and oil.

“i’m old enough to know a longer life isn’t always a better one.” is all he says before getting back to work.

he doesn’t say much else after that.

“are you immortal?” you ask, and he sighs, setting down his tools and turning to face you, his chair squeaking as he spins.

“must you ask all these personal questions?” he says, almost incredulous, but his tone isn’t cold. he doesn’t shut you out like he usually would.

instead…

“i’m not immortal,” he says, finally, and you perk up. he was going to answer your questions? “not really, at least.” he finishes, and now you frown,

“what do you mean?” you inquire, and he shrugs, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“i can die. there are things that can kill me. sunlight, for one. i’ll burn up to ash. a stake through the heart for another. and—”

“wouldn’t a stake to the heart kill anyone?” you interrupt, and he shoots you a sharp look. you hold up your hands defensively with a quiet “sorry.” he continues talking.

“silver will harm me. as will holy water. either of those in large amounts will kill me eventually.” he finishes, and you nod. you knew this already.

stories told to you as a child gave you the most rudimentary knowledge of vampires, and now you were learning more and more thanks to viktor.

“so you aren’t immortal in the sense that you live forever?” you ask, and he laughs darkly, shaking his head.

“immortality isn't living forever. that's not what it feels like. immortality is everybody else dying.” he says and abruptly spins in his chair back to his desk.

you don’t ask any questions after that, and viktor doesn’t speak.

until…

“do you want to know why i’m always working?” he says suddenly, and you blink, surprised he’s even talking after your previous exchange.

“why is that?” you ask, and he looks at you out of the corner of his eye. he turns a gear with a tool and tightens it until he’s satisfied.

“i’m looking for a way to turn mortal again,” he says softly, and your brain stalls.

turn mortal?

but…

“wouldn’t that kill you?” you whisper, almost dreading the answer. that dread intensifies as viktor nods.

“it would.” you bolt upright to a sitting position, panic shooting through you.

you didn’t want him to die.

“that’s suicide!” now he turns to look at you, a dark look in his eyes that scares you, making you shiver. he sighs and turns back to his work.

“i’m well aware of that,” he says, an emotion thick in his voice that you can’t quite identify. but that doesn’t change the fact that he wants to die.

“but why?!” you ask, and he stops tinkering for a moment, setting his tools down and curling his hands into loose fists.

“because i’m alone here. all my friends and family all died nearly three hundred years ago,” he says sadly, and you see a single tear streak his cheek.

the first tears you had seen him cry.

you slowly get to your feet, your wool socks sinking into the plush carpet as you pad your way closer to the vampire. he tenses but doesn’t pull away when you pull him into a tight hug.

“you aren’t alone here,” you whisper, mumbling into his hair as you bury your nose in it. it’s unbelievably soft and tickles your cheeks. viktor lets out a quiet gasp, but you don’t stop.

“you aren’t alone. i know it probably doesn’t help much, but i’m here, right? i want to be your friend. i want to be there for you if you are having a hard day. you just have to let me.” his grip tightens, and he finally speaks as you pull back and cup his cheeks, using your thumbs to wipe the tears away that are falling down his cheeks faster now.

suddenly, he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck and soaking the neckline of your dress, his grease-stained fingers ruining the back of your dress.

“thank you,” he says so softly you almost don’t hear him. you smile, even though he can’t see it, and gently run a hand through his soft hair.

“it’s not a problem at all.”

#viktor arcane x reader #viktor arcane x you #viktor arcane x y/n #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #arcane viktor x y/n #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #viktor #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane: league of legends #cryptid!viktor #fairy writes

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