#Compared to a live set it’s toned down a bit but like that’s fine

[coconut530]

NEW CRANE WIVES SONG = NEW LENORE SONG

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[guppybibi]

𖦹 pairing: Dad!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!reader

𖦹 content: Crack & fluff, not proofread, ooc i think, d/n = daughters name, mild cursing

𖦹 notes: more self indulgent fics, this is bad lmao

And the world’s best husband who constantly makes his wife worried sick, award goes to Simon Riley! May we get a round of applause to commend this man? No? Alright, I’ll see myself out then. Hey, he doesn’t do it intentionally (most of the time). You gotta live a little, it’s not like he’s doing anything reckless. Oh but who can blame your heart when it dropped to the pits of your stomach upon seeing Simon carry your cherubic little toddler on one hand? He’s balancing her there like she’s a trained cheerleader! Maybe in the future, but she could barely even balance her own bobble head! Sure you may have been a teensy weensy bit over dramatic about it but accidents should be prevented as much as possible.

“Darlin’ look it’s fine, she’s even giggling.” He says just a little bit too casually, referring to your daughter who’s currently enjoying the little circus act they were performing. “Nope, put her down right this instant.” You command, and if Simon was scared of one thing it’d surely be you when you're angry. Guns and weapons would never compare to the fury of his wife. With a huff from him and a whiny complaint from your daughter, he sets her down onto the grassy yard.

“Oh what a killjoy, mama..” She puffs up her rosy cheeks, crossing her arms as she feigns hurt. You chuckle, looking up at Simon before speaking. “She’s got your accent. The rosy cheeks too.” You comment, lowering your head down to see your daughter avoiding eye contact with you as she acted offended.

"Which cheeks-”

“Nope, don't continue that sentence.” You could practically hear the way his lips formed a pout, copying your daughter. Pathetic, who knew a burly military man could get so soft for his little girl? “Awh come on eh? Don't be such a killjoy ‘luv.” He teases, using the same tone his little girl used.

Or maybe that one time Simon was blasting music the loudest the speaker could handle, it had a few curses and swear words here and there but his baby girl wouldn't pick up on it. He doubts she's even listening to daddy’s ‘bad’ music taste, so he's in the safe zone for sure!

Oh boy was he wrong…It was one of those days, you two were sharing chores—with you washing the dishes while he vacuumed around the house and hummed along to the song playing. While D/N was happily stacking her ABC blocks, she was silently listening to the song her daddy was playing. Even mumbling some of the parts since her daddy keeps putting this certain song on repeat. She barely knew the alphabet to begin with so she wouldn't even pick up on the words on the song, right?

“Mama!” She calls out, bringing her empty baby bottle as she signals for more milk. “Oh yes baby, I’ll fill your bottle right after I finish these.” You respond gently, rinsing the soapy suds away. “No, now bitch!” And with those words alone it felt like the toddler broke the sound barrier, silence filling the Riley’s usually noisy home when Simon slowly turned off the speaker. You and Simon share a look that plainly said “What the fuck.”, the man set the vacuum aside as it was time for another parenting lesson.

“Kiddo, that's no way to speak to your mum.” He lectures gently, taking her feelings into consideration. “Mama told you she’ll help you after, right? It's bad to call her names, mama sacrificed a lot for you.”

"But-” “No buts, kiddo. Your mum didn't spend 7 hours pushing you out and I didn't have to watch her scream out in pain like a demon just for you to curse at her.” Simon hoped he wasn't too harsh with his child, knowing they're tiny hearts are pretty fragile at this age. But he wasn't going to let it just slide, he watched his baby girl approach her mother and apologize. A smile gracing his face when he sees you forgive her and place a delicate kiss on her chubby cheek, he goes up to you once he sees the child take off to play in the living room.

“I think we should start considering the swear jar now.” You comment, placing a hand on your hip. “Definitely.”

“No more playing songs with any swear words from now on, Simon.” “Yes ma’am.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

Feeling Blue Without You - Lloyd Hansen

Summary: Working at Hansen Security can be stressful. What would happen if you left?

Words Count: 2,365

Warning: None

Author's Note: Hello, everyone; this one-shot is for the Lloyd Hansen Writing Challenge hosted by @hansensgirl and @cuttlefjsh. I chose the prompt: "Now, I'm gonna stop you right there, cupcake."

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more

“Sir, we need backup,” the agent said urgently to his boss, Lloyd Hansen, the head of Hansen Security. They were pinned down and surrounded by their opponents.

Standing before him, Lloyd clenched his jaw and grabbed his comm. “Send the reaper drone,” he commanded.

“No,” came the reply.

Lloyd's eyes narrowed. “No?”

‘BANG!’

A bullet whizzed past, forcing Lloyd to duck. “Can you hear that? They're shooting at us!” he barked into the comm.

“I did. I saw everything.”

“Then send the fucking drone!” Lloyd demanded, his voice rising in desperation.

“No. The air force won’t let us borrow the drone again since you destroyed it last time,” the voice replied coolly.

Lloyd rolled his eyes, frustration boiling over.

‘BANG!’

He ducked again, muttering a curse. “I'm dying here. If you don't want to use the drone, then what's the alternative?”

“I already sent one,” the voice replied.

“What?! A miracle?” Lloyd's voice dripped with sarcasm and desperation.

“1,” the voice started to count.

“What are you doing?” Lloyd snapped, glancing around nervously.

“2,” the voice continued.

“What does that even mean?” Lloyd demanded, his grip tightening on his weapon.

“3.”

“BOOM!”

In an instant, a missile landed, obliterating their opponents. The shockwave knocked Lloyd off his feet. He wiped the dirt from his eyes, coughing.

“Can you tell me beforehand?” he shouted into the comm, exasperated.

“I did, but no one replied,” the voice said, a hint of amusement in the tone.

Lloyd took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “I'm sorry. If you were here, you’d understand that no one could answer you because we were trying to hide from everyone shooting at us!”

“I'm sorry,” the voice replied, more sincerely this time.

“Fine. At least you made a good decision. Just don’t let it happen again,” Lloyd growled.

“Now send an aircraft to pick us up,” he ordered.

“It’s already on the way,” the voice replied.

“Good,” Lloyd muttered before turning off his ear comm. He sighed heavily, feeling more exhausted from the conversation than the fight.

Compared to Lloyd’s precarious situation, the person on the other end was in a much safer location.

“He’s a little bit angry, but at least we avoided any casualties,” one of the IT team members said, glancing up from their console.

“That’s what I aim for. Less paperwork too,” you replied, a hint of satisfaction in your voice.

You took off your ear comm and set it down on the table. “And we can get more bonuses.”

“Yes,” everyone nodded in agreement. Working at Hansen Security was stressful and dangerous, but the high salary made it worthwhile, especially with you.

Since you became the damage control advisor, the job has become less stressful because the team could depend on you to handle Lloyd’s wrath. Your nickname, "Raven," truly lived up to its reputation.

You used to work in the CIA, but even the corrupt officers there found you too irritating. So, they sent you to the most annoying person they could think of—Lloyd Hansen.

Even Lloyd couldn't stand you. Since you arrived, he found himself unable to do whatever he wanted. He used to revel in his freedom, operating without constraints. Now, there were rules and regulations, and you enforced them rigorously.

Lloyd frowned as he recalled the changes you'd implemented: no more casualties, no more shooting innocent civilians, no more reckless actions. He scoffed, shaking his head. He used to thrive in chaos, but you had stopped that.

Since you came on board, Lloyd has noticed that the calls from Carmichael or Susan have stopped. He used to hear, “Lloyd, keep it down,” or “Lloyd, what are you doing?” almost daily. Now, there was silence on that front.

He grimaced, remembering how he'd been forced to adjust his tactics. He clenched his fists, feeling the constraints you'd placed on him. He couldn't stand the way you had imposed order on his operations.

You, meanwhile, were fully aware of Lloyd’s resentment. As you leaned back in your chair, you glanced at the team, seeing the relief in their eyes. They appreciated the structure and safety you brought, even if Lloyd didn’t.

💉💉💉💉

Lloyd arrived back at the mansion, dragging his feet because of the wound. “Shit. I need a medic,” he groaned.

“They’re taking care of the others who really need it,” you replied, your tone matter-of-fact.

Lloyd fell silent, realizing that it was only you to help. You were already standing there, holding a medic kit. “Don’t scare me like that,” Lloyd holding his chest.

“You? Impossible,” you scoffed as you cut his pants with scissors to address his wound.

“Geez, you reject going on a date with me but are eager to rip my pants,” Lloyd quipped, wincing as you applied antiseptic.

“Well, if we can’t be lovers, at least we’re good partners in crime,” you shot back.

Lloyd smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “How do I look? Do I look handsome?” he asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

You raised your eyebrows, used to his random questions. “You have a muscular body and a good-looking face. You’re good in every outfit.”

Lloyd fell silent for a moment, then leaned closer to you, his expression serious. “Don’t say those kinds of words to anyone else—man, woman, I don’t care. Just me. Alright?”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, whatever you say, Lloyd.”

Despite the banter, there was a palpable tension between you two. It was clear you both hated and cared for each other at the same time.

As you finished bandaging his wound, Lloyd watched you with a mix of irritation and appreciation. “You’re good at this,” he muttered.

“Better than bleeding out,” you replied, standing up and packing the kit.

The others nearby were already used to your dynamic. They exchanged knowing glances but didn’t interfere. This was just another day at Hansen Security—filled with banter and tension, but always under control.

“Try not to get shot next time,” you said, turning to leave.

“Try not to worry about me so much,” Lloyd said, smirking.

🍸🍸🍸🍸

After an exhausting day, you always head to the bar to ease your stress. Swirling the ice cubes in your whiskey, you find a small semblance of relaxation in the motion.

Working in damage control with Hansen Security is stressful and demanding, and you often wonder what would have happened if you had never accepted the job.

“Are you really that stressed?”

You’re startled by the familiar voice and look up to see Susan standing beside you.

“Today I just stopped an unnecessary war. If you think that's not stressful, sure,” you reply, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you take a sip of your drink.

Susan makes an ‘ooh’ sound, clearly impressed with your ability to tame Lloyd. She pulls up a stool and sits next to you, her eyes studying your face.

“Perhaps I can help ease your burden,” she says, her voice softening.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Hmm?”

“Our boss wants to hire you to work at headquarters. He likes the way you limit the damage Lloyd makes,” Susan explains, her eyes shining with excitement.

“Really?!” you exclaim, a wave of relief washing over you. “When can I go there?”

“Anytime you want,” Susan replies with a smile.

Without hesitation, you down the rest of your whiskey and stand up, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. You grab your jacket, a newfound energy propelling you forward.

💥💥💥💥💥

Lloyd had just come back, and the atmosphere inside the mansion felt different. Had someone been here? He was sure of it. “Susan, what the heck are you doing here?” he demanded, storming into the room.

“I’m the new damage control advisor,” Susan replied calmly, standing her ground.

“Oh, hell no. Where is she?” Lloyd’s voice was sharp, almost frantic.

Susan’s expression remained neutral. “She’s working with the boss now.”

“Without my permission?!” Lloyd’s voice rose, his anger palpable.

Susan was taken aback. She hadn’t expected him to be this furious. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to stay composed. “Don’t blame me. It was the higher-ups who wanted her.”

“She also gave her resignation letter,” she informed him.

Lloyd stood there, stunned. You had just left without saying anything? He couldn’t believe it.

That night, Lloyd couldn't sleep. He never thought he would feel so blue after you left. When you first started working with him, you were a nuisance, always blocking every plan he made. He hated you for it.

But as time went by, your presence became indispensable for both the job and him. He liked to tease and flirt with you, even though it was futile since you never broke your cold demeanor.

Now, with Susan replacing you, he knew she was waiting for him to fail. She didn’t care if he made mistakes. She wanted him to be ruined. She didn’t care if the mission succeeded or failed.

Unlike you, who were strict but cared for him, watching out for his safety and the success of the mission.

Lloyd sat on the edge of his bed, staring into the darkness. He realized just how much he had relied on you, not just for your skills but for your unwavering dedication. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and sadness mixing within him. He missed your stern yet caring presence, and it gnawed at him that he hadn’t appreciated you more when you were there.

Susan might be in your position now, but she could never replace what you brought to the team or him.

🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢

Lloyd stormed through the office, pushing away the secretary and security guards who tried to stop him from entering Monsieur Francis' office room.

“Mr. Hansen. What do I owe the pleasure of this abrupt visit?” Monsieur Francis, the French millionaire and main sponsor of Hansen Security, looked up calmly.

“I want her back,” Lloyd stated firmly.

Monsieur Francis leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. He had always needed Hansen Security to clear his path but despised the chaos and repair bills Lloyd often caused.

“But she likes it here. It's less stressful,” Monsieur Francis replied diplomatically.

Lloyd slammed his fist on the glass table, causing it to crack. “No one can replace her.”

Monsieur Francis raised an eyebrow, maintaining his composure. “There’s nothing I can do. She came here of her own accord, and we welcomed a talented person like her with open arms.”

Lloyd's voice hardened. “Let her go, or I will expose all your misdeeds to the world. Everyone will be shocked to learn that the philanthropist has blood on his hands.”

Monsieur Francis clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white. “Leave. Before I change my mind. This is the last time you disrespect me.”

Gritting his teeth, Lloyd turned and stormed out of the office, leaving Monsieur Francis behind.

Lloyd leaned against the wall in the hallway, his chest heaving with frustration and anger. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling defeated. He knew threatening Monsieur Francis was risky, but he was desperate to bring you back.

🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁

Clueless about what was happening on the top floor, you were in the midst of a meeting with your new team. It felt surprisingly relaxing compared to your time at Hansen Security. The atmosphere was blissful, and you were starting to feel a sense of ease in your new role.

Suddenly, the door burst open, startling everyone in the room. All eyes turned as Lloyd stormed in, his expression furious. You stood up in shock as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the building, leaving the room in stunned silence.

“Lloyd, let go,” you demanded, trying to free your hand from his grip.

“If you don’t want me to make a scene here, just be quiet,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes darting around at the onlookers.

“I don’t want to work with you,” you asserted firmly, your voice tinged with frustration.

“Now, I’m gonna stop you right there, cupcake,” Lloyd retorted, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“Stop calling me that,” you snapped, remembering the time he had discovered your pajamas with cupcake patterns and found it amusing.

“You don’t belong here. Like it or not, you’re going to stay close to me. Didn’t you say we’re perfect partners in crime?” Lloyd’s voice was insistent, almost pleading.

Damn, this man, you thought, feeling both frustrated and reluctantly intrigued. You couldn't seem to escape him.

Lloyd's jaw was clenched, his eyes searching yours with a mix of determination and vulnerability. He took a step closer, closing the physical gap between you, his presence commanding attention.

“Lloyd, this isn’t—” you started, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

“Just... stay close,” he implored softly, his voice rough with emotion.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his words and the intensity of his gaze. Despite your better judgment, there was an undeniable pull towards him—a magnetic force that defied logic and reason.

“I...” you began, uncertain how to respond, your own emotions in turmoil.

Lloyd reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of something unspoken between you.

As you stood there, caught in the charged atmosphere, you realized that resisting Lloyd was futile. Whatever lay ahead, this moment marked a turning point—a shift towards a future where boundaries blurred, and the lines between duty and desire became increasingly intertwined.

Taglist: @thezombieprostitute

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[derangedanomaly]

i’m sorry cricket i will not be taking your man but i would like to be held and also he is pretty as are all of the boys >///< /lh /nm. fluffymare in return, here ya go! yugioh anon, back again >w<

summary: inspired by chaos’s love for making food, you try out making homemade ice cream for the summer. nightmare checks in on you and unsubtly flirts with you. he chats with you while you Create. implied relationship beforehand. can you tell i got tired at the end lol it is 6:30 am i need to sleep

Dry, heavy heat surrounds you as you step out of the lush courtyard and back into the house. Sweat shines on your forehead. Summer was lovely for gardening and exploring the outdoors, but that uncomfortable air following you inside every single time was one thing you could live without. Unluckily for you, you live in a house filled with skeletons who can’t generate heat so the house is consistently just a bit warmer than preferred.

Forcing yourself to continue walking down the hall, you turn to the kitchen. A part of you would kill for something cold. You open the fridge to find… nothing. The entire thing has been emptied by someone. Scratch what you thought before, you might actually kill somebody. There’s a bit of milk, some stray fruits, a knife that you assume to be Blade ‘pranking’ Ted, and a bit of heavy cream. Wait, milk, some fruits, and heavy cream? Wasn’t Chaos talking about making ice cream soon? He bought an ice cream maker and the ingredients!

Your footsteps are just about the only sounds you hear for the next few minutes as you get out the ingredients and measure them out in the bowl. You remember a recipe saying that you can just put them in together chilled and it will work out fine, so you put your trust in it. As you’re setting the bowl back in, you see Nightmare approach in a fanciful outfit.

“Are you using the set Chaos bought, my other half?” Nightmare asks, sitting down straight in a chair as he watched you move about.

You nod and reply, “Mhm! It’s gotten so hot recently, I figured I should just make some now. I doubt he’ll complain about homemade desserts.”

The slightly sassy response makes him smile a bit, but he frowns at the comment about the temperature. He’d never admit it, but he tends to forget the requirements of the human body compared to his and all the other undead occupants of the house.

“Would you not rather a servant make some for you? If it is as hot as you say, I doubt moving around consistently is beneficial.”

You smile at his offer, but shake your head. Despite his neglectful act he oftens puts up, that concerned tone and worried stare give him away. Besides, you’ve almost finished the process so why get someone else to do it now?

“Since you have a moment, would you care to occupy me in donning a recent set of garments created by my designers?” His tone is formal, as if uncaring, but you understand the question. Nightmare wants to do a mini fashion show with you. The two of you relax for a long while, putting on various outfits and picking which look best. You both offer advice and critiques on the new style, but come out of it pleased.

When you finish making the ice cream, you set it into two bowls and hand one to Nightmare while you sink against the counter. The chill sweetness that coats your tongue feels like the core of your being is cooling down. A content smile spreads across your face. Nightmare would recoil from the immense positivity, but seeing you cooling off allows his worries to subside.

“Try some, it’s really sweet!”

“No dessert could rival your gracious attitude, my one and only.”

His cheesy words make you giggle, but you smile at him. A king of negativity, a nightmare, but your Nightmare.

Aww, never thought I'd live to see the day of Nightmare acting soft lol

Love this!

[witch-oftheflowers]

Welcome In~

Moon Knight Universe!

Jake Lockley x Morgana Aradia

TW: mention of sexual actions

Masterlist

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The night was gloomy. Rain filled the noise around those that went out. Pouring down as it was showering hard. The city of London was quiet for once.

The sound of thudding steps echoed out. A large man rushed down as he turned the corner towards a quaint bar. He huffed out as he hid under the the bars canopy.

He adjusted his flat hat as he grumbled under his breath.

"Pinché señora..." He sighs as he shook his brown leather jacket. Pushing the bar door open, the soft chime of the bell above rang as he enter.

Looking around his sharp eyes noticed how quiet it was. Compared to the lively atmosphere the bar had.

The bar was deep and dark in colors. Satin lined the walls, a dark purple to them. The floor shined with a oak wood. The little stage in the middle with the dance floor opened. Tables and chairs litter about in the organized chaos.

It had such a dark academia vibe to the bar. Along with the plants about, making it love with color. The lights were soft, a brown tone to the bar was added. It felt moody even if the rain outside was active.

Behind the bar stood a tall woman. Her thick kush hair swayed about. Her waves reminded him of the deep dark ocean. They whip and swayed behind her as she was making drinks and cleaning.

Her eyes widen as she looked up from her task.

"Jake! Come here bene bene" her voice was soft and comforting as she waved him over to the empty seat infront of her.

He begrudgingly crept over. Feeling annoyed with her attitude, especially since she was the one that called him.

"Stop it Morgana..." He said a bit hush as he sat in the seat. Taking his hat off and setting it on the counter.

She made him a quick glass, bourbon, on the house. She slid the ice filled glass to him as she hum. Her eyes flicked red as she smiled, her painted lips curled into a smile as she hums.

"Don't act like that... You know I have a great job for you." She teased him as she let a giggle out. He scoffed at her attitude again as he drank the glass.

"Bueno, sí... Necesitas a alguien con mis habilidades. Pero siempre actúas como si fuera un juego..." (Well yes... you need someone with my skills. But you always act like it's a game)

She scoffed a bit at his words as she yanked the glass from his hands. He blinked a bit as he sighs.

"Come on tell me about it. I don't have all day Miss. Aradia." His accent was thick as he held his hand out. She gently placed the drink in his hand as she hums.

"I need help getting some items for a..." She looked to the other patrons as she sighs.

"I need you to find these things for a ritual." She said so casually as she handed him a list of items. Their hands grazed the other, a bit of electricity shock the two of them.

Jake raised an eyebrow to her as he sighs. Looking through it as he scanned it over. Most of these things were from Egypt. Makes sense why she asked him. The only thing that threw him off was the last one.

Healthy male body

He smirked as he stared at her. Shaking the paper

"What's with the last one?"

"It says there what it is." She mused as she smiled at him. Eyeing him up and down a bit. Batting her long lashes at him

"But why?"

"Sex ritual..." She calmly said as she stared at him. He choked on his drink as he wiped his mouth clean.

"Mamas... You could of just asked me..." He teased and joked at her.

"Well I was hoping you would offer " she said as he stared at her a bit bewildered by her bluntness. He sighs, leaving a heavy breath out. His hands gripped his glass as he sipped another, finishing the dark drink.

"Fine I can do that. But my fee will be more."

"I'm fine with that. I need the other things first before I can do my service and pay you clearly. Any another questions Mr. Lockley?" She said, keeping her eye trained on him. She had such a dark aura around her. The bar it self did

Which made sense the bar was a hiding hole for those of the supernatural. Specifically for witches and warlocks. Such as the woman before him.

"Fine I'll do it. I'll be back in a few days time bues." He stood from his seat. Tucking the paper into his jackets inner pocket. His hat slid back into it's place on his head. Brushing his dark curls back as he stared at her.

Morgana stood back up straight. Her hands firm on her hips. Her chest pop out, a bit of pride in her stance.

"I'll be waiting for you, don't keep a girl waiting Jake~" her voice sounded like silk. Like it was coating to him and ready to bring him back to her. That was their interactions always. The sexual tension, the begging to be close to the other. It was like their souls and spirits were bound together.

"I won't make you wait long..." He ended it there. Walking off from her, leaving the one place he felt secure in.

Morgana smile fade as he left. The bell above her door rang. She didn't notice the man coming besides her, looking identical to her.

"Why don't you just tell him you like him hmmm?" The man said as he pinched her cheek. She swat his hand as she pouts.

"Adriana....Stop it. Hes just a good shag is all." She said, her cheeks glowing even on her deep tan skin. She huffs a bit walking pass her brother.

"I'ma take a break. You watch the bar" she stated to her brother. But she let a sigh out, feeling her emotions sky high.

It would be a week till he returned. And the two had another magical night. And her spell was a success. Besides the two left with bite marks and scratches on the other. Soft reminders of the other till they crossed paths again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

AN: hope you all enjoyed! I love writing about how they interact and I adore themmmm💕🥺

[princeofthcseas]

Eric Seaver // Thirty // Human // Rental Boat Captain

TW: DEATH, FIRE

As a young, little prince Eric was rambunctious. He was constantly running around the castle, Sir Grimsby following as close behind as Eric would let him get, finding every possible corner of the castle he could to poke his curious nose in. He was eager to learn and spent a lot of time reading once he learned. He enjoyed history and looking at maps of the world, dreaming of what curiosities he could find around the globe. He did not enjoy etiquette class as much, but it came naturally to him. He was a sweet kid, but still a kid that could tone down a bit. 

A little more into his childhood is when he began to calm a bit. He wasn’t as rowdy and spent a lot of time in town or near the water. His parents were sure to teach him from a young age that he had duties as a prince. He didn’t take them very seriously at that age and really didn’t until he was much older. He loved the ocean above all else. Royal duties didn’t compare to boat rides and spending time on the open water. 

He was a teen when he started leading short expeditions at sea. Sir Grimbsy always accompanied as per his parents wishes, which was fine. Eric especially needed the guidance as a teenager. He proved to be a great explorer though. His crew quickly became his second family and Grimsby has always been like some sort of weird uncle to him. It worked perfectly. 

Fast forward into his early adulthood. He was avoiding the M word all together despite his parents trying to ease him into the idea. He was young and wanted to explore the world and figure out who he was. He didn’t want to be tied down. He wanted to meet different people all over the world and decide for himself. Still, a duty was a duty and he knew he couldn’t avoid it forever. 

The night of the shipwreck was the worst night of Eric’s life. It was his birthday and he wanted something special. He didn’t need an extravagant party or gifts, he just wanted to spend time at sea with his crew. Of course the guys had to let off fireworks and go all out. Before he knew it he was a few too many drinks in and the ship was set aflame. Fight or flight mode kicked in fast. He searched for an exit as he watched in horror his crew get engulfed in flames. There was a way out to the left as Grimsby screamed his name from the lifeboat but he wasn’t leaving Max behind. It’s a bit of a blur but he remembers jumping across the flames, picking his dog up, and then being in the water. The next thing he knew he was on the sand and heard a voice singing to him.

The realization of what happened when the shock wore off was…really bad. On top of that he couldn’t get that voice out of his head. He knew whoever that voice belonged to saved him and he had to find the owner. Still, the guilt ate him away and he spent a lot of time alone if he wasn’t out searching. A few beers a night turned into rum and sometimes a mix of the two. His parents weren’t as worried as they probably should be because he wouldn’t shut up about the girl with the voice. 

Eric was about to give up on his search when one fateful night he saw a beautiful woman on the beach singing a familiar melody. That was the last thing he remembered before blacking out and waking up in Evermore.

Being in a town with no way out was a living hell for Eric. He was a man meant to travel, not stay cooped up in one place. Adjusting to a life outside of the palace or his ship was difficult. He had the clothes on his back and whatever was in his pockets with him. That and thankfully his dog, Max. Eric wasn’t sure what he would have done without his furry best friend. He was quick to find a place to live, buying himself a nice boathouse he stayed at on the river. Work wasn’t going to be as easy. He didn’t really want it to be known he was a prince. He wasn’t one to gloat like that. He ended up doing the closest thing he could do to being on a ship at sea. He became a boat captain, giving tours on the lake or up the river. It was whatever, but at least it paid the bills. 

His memories before Evermore were blurry. Something were clear as day but the girl with the voice was long gone. He still loved the ocean and longed for it dearly, but had no idea why he was brought to this town. It troubled him but not as much as it troubled him that he couldn’t get back home. Despite being a decent human being Eric was still very much a prince and was not meant to live outside of the lifestyle he had grown up with. He felt suffocated and wanted nothing more than to get back home, even if that meant his parents would marry him off to some woman he’d never met. 

Eric spends a lot of the time at the beach. It’s not the same as the one outside the palace where the clear blue water went on for miles and miles. The sand wasn’t even the same texture or color. It felt so dull compared to the ocean, but the lake quickly became his solace. 

He’s a sociable person and kind to whoever he meets. Despite that he doesn’t have a ton of friends. Sure, he has some, but they aren’t like the friends he had back home. Or the ones he lost during the wreck. He remembers parts of the shipwreck but everything after the ship went up in flames is pretty blurry or lost all together. All he knows is that almost everyone was dead. He doesn’t want to get close to a lot of people though. He knows he’s a social person that needs interaction and relationships but he keeps people at arms length. He wouldn’t mind a few more friends but the last thing on his mind is a relationship. The closest he gets is the occasional drunken hookup. 

Circling back to the shipwreck. He has a lot of nightmares about that night. It’s hard to drown them out and the best he can do is use alcohol as a crutch. It’s not really an evident problem and he’s not reckless about it. Sure, he may drink a bit too much when he does drink but sometimes it’s the only thing that can block out the nightmares or help him when he gets too much in his own head. 

Eric feels very lost. The time he spends alone is mostly dedicated to his hobbies. He’s lost count of how many books he’s read since coming to Evermore or how many hours he’s spent fishing. He doesn’t really know what else to do with himself outside of working. He feels like he has no purpose in this town. At least back home he had duties he had to attend to, no matter how much he didn’t want to fulfill them at times.

He misses his parents a lot. He hopes they know he isn’t dead and he is worried about them. He misses the palace staff, the people in town, and having a purpose. He tries to not let it eat at him but it’s hard to not miss the things he had, especially the parts he remembers. 

He’s trying to fit in town as best he can. He tries to go out and meet people. He frequents the dog park with Max, a few bars he’s grown fond of, and even goes out to eat alone as he can’t even boil water. The few friends he has he tries to see as much as he can but he still isolates himself. It’s an uphill battle.

He lacks a lot of basic skills, like cooking, so he either eats out or orders delivery. Cleaning has come a bit easier to him but it took some time. He used to be an early bird because the first thing he wanted to do in the morning was run down to the beach, but now he finds he spends his nights up late. Routine has become difficult for him because he had a lot of free will to do as he pleased back home.

Eric feels like he doesn’t even know who he is anymore. Sure, he was still figuring it out but life outside of the palace had proven to be difficult. He knows he’s a good man that loves the ocean and the only heir and prince to a kingdom. But aside from that what else is he?

Even though he’s adjusted to life in Evermore he feels like he will never feel completely settled there. So, he does his best to just live his life the best he can. He’s trying to be genuine to himself while also just surviving. Overall, this man is struggling and is trying his damned best okay!!

Pisces sun, Taurus moon, Cancer rising

[noddytheornithopod]

Alright, some more Ahsoka thoughts under the cut. Spoilers beware.

So we actually get an opening crawl of sorts, and the Star Wars logo is red too. Filoni definitely trying to make this an event.

People have been rightfully comparing the opening scene where Baylan and Shin break into the New Republic ship to The Phantom Menace and A New Hope’s openers. Honestly not as on the nose as I was expecting.

The opening scene with Ahsoka where she finds the map did feel a bit too long. Like I understand trying to set a slower tone, but I feel like this went on for a bit.

Speaking of the map, anyone getting The Force Awakens flashbacks? All they needed to do was give it to Chopper, lol.

So the three figures in that mural... I have no idea if it’s going to be significant down the line, but the fact that there’s three of them makes one wonder... Mortis gods?

“Location of the last missing Imperial Grand Admiral”. So do they know where Sloane is? Or is she going to be presumed dead (along with the proto-First Order types?), like they seemed to think Thrawn was until the whispers of his return? Either way, just a small detail, and one that people are probably gonna get way too hung up over.

I will say Ahsoka definitely looks better than in previous appearances. IDK if it’s the performance, my own jadedness based on the controversy around Rosario Dawson, or an intentional character choice that is making it harder to connect with her at first, but Ahsoka weirdly doesn’t have that much of a presence? Like, there’s a stoicism to the character, but even when other characters are around, they always end up feeling like they stand out more than her. Hopefully they’re building to something, otherwise it’s going to be weird to have your lead character feel this distant.

“It’s never a straight line with you Jedi”. Why do I feel like Hera was thinking of Kanan when she said that? Maybe Ezra too for that matter.

I do wonder what Ahsoka specifically heard that lead her on the trail to Elsbeth, TBH.

So with Ahsoka and Sabine, we still don’t really know what happened. We know at some point Ahsoka agreed to train her, but then gave up on her and left.

Lothal looks cool! Okay maybe some shots do look clearly fake, but I like seeing that aesthetic translate into live-action, and also seeing Lothal after the Imperial occupation rebuilt.

Ryder Azadi is back, wasn’t sure if he would be back but it’s a cool connection nonetheless. Jai Kell is apparently Lothal’s senator now too. Stuff like this definitely adds to the feeling of it being a continuation.

Not sure how I feel about Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Hera. I THINK I like her? There’s one or two scenes where I find myself questioning it, but then there’s others where I think she works perfectly fine.

Of our main heroes, Sabine was easily the standout character. I do feel like they could’ve found a better actor to look the part (I do think she’s a bit pale for Sabine’s complexion, but that’s a whole can of worms to open and I’m probably not the person most invested in this topic), but even if her performance is quite different to what Tiya Sircar did, I feel like she manages to embody the character well in her own way.

I do like seeing Sabine the way we did. That opening scene for her with her on the speeder chased by the E-wings was pretty cool, the fact that the Kiners decided to have a rock track play over it only added to the feeling of Sabine’s rebelliousness (also NGL with the sudden change in sound from the usual Star Wars score, I thought for a moment they were playing a licensed song, but nope it’s just an in-universe track I guess XD). You do get the sense she’s feeling pretty lost after everything that happened. Like Sabine’s lothcat too.

Also, confirmation that Ezra recorded another message specifically for Sabine. No real comments on Eman Esfandi’s portrayal yet, but I do hope to see more of Ezra.

“But you’re like a sister to me.” This line is sweet of course but primarily I find it unintentionally hilarious because Season 1 Ezra was really trying to hit on her. Obviously this is Ezra at the end of Rebels and he grew out of that crush and his bond with Sabine was more serious and of course platonic... but still. Lol.

Just noticed Shin has a padawan braid. Seems like Baylan is still doing Jedi stuff but isn’t operating as one? Also, neat touch that Huyang was able to identify Baylan from his lightsabre, but not Shin because obviously hers would be constructed well after he was around to document it.

Speaking of which... no explanation on why Huyang is around. I mean, I’m not complaining, but it’s kind of wild this major piece of Jedi history was able to avoid being hunted down and destroyed by the Empire.

Morgan Elsbeth confirms she’s a Nightsister, and the temple on Arcada Ahsoka was raiding (which is what she got out of her in Mando S2) was apparently built by them. It sounds like the Nightsisters may have been bigger many millennia ago.

Alright so we still don’t know what the deal with Marrok is, if they’re a familiar face or just some new ex-Inquisitor. Elsbeth is lucky to have managed to hire three Force Sensitive mercenaries, huh? Marrok doesn’t even have any lines, lol.

So with Ahsoka and Sabine’s relationship, we’re not really sure what happened yet. I think we might learn more over the course of the show, but from what I can tell, Sabine’s feeling pretty disillusioned after losing Ezra (even acting surprised at the idea he might be alive), and even if it’s yet to come up, I’m sure the Great Purge on Mandalore affected her too. She isn’t at the celebration of Lothal’s liberation because that day is painful for her. She seems to be lacking a sense of purpose. Ahsoka probably saw these things and realised she couldn’t commit, hence leaving her. The fact that Sabine and Huyang confirm that she never showed any Force sensitivity is just salt in the wound. So I guess that still begs the question: what happened to make them initially train together in the first place?

I love how Huyang makes sad eyes when Ahsoka talks about how she left the Jedi (I think he does it in other scenes too but this was when it stood out to me the most). “Sometimes even the right reasons have the wrong consequences” I think is a standout line for sure, Ahsoka definitely still feels guilt for Vader’s existence. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is affecting a lot of her decisions, like her lack of faith in Sabine (maybe she’s afraid that being taught by the Jedi who became Vader would cause her to create that again?).

Oh yeah, Ahsoka saying she did some stuff that wasn’t very Jedi to get the map info from Elsbeth... yeah, still no Jedi, apparently. Even if she’s gotta get dark.

When Sabine reacts to Ahsoka mentioning the Nightsisters, I definitely think she was thinking back to the creepy ghost possessing her.

Shin is obviously young and seems quite impressionable, always asking questions and needing to know what to do from her superiors, so she’s still clearly inexperienced. She definitely wrecked Sabine there, though. Cue someone complaining about another character surviving a stab wound when characters like Qui-Gon never did or whatever.

I do think it’s cool that Sabine is still showing her wide skillset to do things like analyse the map and get info out of the HK assassin droid head. The one to one with Hera was nice too. I like that Hera thinks they’re gonna work best if they’re together and she’s trying to make that happen, heck even Huyang is. Lol at Hera also saying that them both being difficult is what she thought would “make it work”.

We catch up with Elsbeth on Seatos, who has some big teases and reveals. She describes the location she’s showing the map with it as being built by people from a distant galaxy millennia ago. So yeah, Star Wars is finally going extragalactic, at least in a major way. Seems Thrawn and Ezra wound up in this distant galaxy these people that traveled here did (I wonder if the connection between the Arcana and Seatos locations implies the Nightsisters also built this, implying that they themselves are extragalactic... which is one big can of worms to open for sure).

So Baylan describes the route they’re taking as the “Pathway to Peridea”. IDK if Peridea is this new galaxy or a specific world or place in it, but yeah. Apparently even the Jedi had stories about this.

Elsbeth acts and sounds very witchy, appropriate for a Nightsister. In a particularly eerie moment, she says Thrawn “calls to her” (which must be how she knows all of this shit to even get to him in the first place, how she knew she needed the map with the right route to this galaxy and all that) and even describes it as being from “across time and space”. Those specific words make me wonder if there’s some World Between Worlds type shit going on. Also what is even calling to her? Is it really Thrawn, or someone from this distant galaxy? If this IS Thrawn, what does this mean for him? What has he found that is enabling him to reach out this far?

Morgan is constructing a ship called the Eye of Sion to travel to Peridea, one that is pretty huge and requires hyperdrives of super star destroyers. Side note, but it’s cool that the villains seem to be ahead of the heroes here. And this is even without Thrawn’s strategic genius.

Okay, hiring a Jewish actor to play your shady businessman character... I think someone should’ve thought about the optics of that a bit more.

That one questionable casting choice aside, I do think it’s an interesting idea to have ex-Imperials who are still loyal to the Empire still working in places like these shipyards. Big structural change is hard, and it tracks with the New Republic we’ve seen to rush things and overlook things like this.

We see Chopper again, which is cool.

Huyang saying “Lady Tano” gives me Maul flashbacks, lol.

Sabine feels like Ahsoka came back just because she was useful to her, and well Huyang’s account of things certainly doesn’t help that (because it WAS Hera’s idea to let Sabine know the news). Also, Sabine cutting her hair and putting her armour back on. The haircut definitely called back to Kanan’s for sure.

The final conversation between Bayland and Elsbeth was interesting too. Through these episodes I’m definitely getting the impression Baylan is following some kind of code, or at least isn’t just simply just a bad guy there to do bad guy things. Honestly, Shin has seemed more ruthless so far, lol. But especially when he says stuff like “it would be a shame to kill [Ahsoka]” and how he doesn’t immediately attack in the opening scene of the first episode is intriguing. Anyway, the giant hyperdrive ring that is the Eye of Sion seems close to completion, I have a feeling next week it might be.

I do like the tone the show’s going for. It’s no Andor, but it does feel a bit more serious than The Mandalorian, with more scenes that slow down for character beats and such. Also appreciate that they’re truly trying to make this feel epic, even for a TV show filmed in the volume. Filoni is definitely getting better directing live-action, and of course after her Boba Fett outing Steph Green is great. It definitely is adding to the Space Opera feel more than say the Space Western that is The Mandalorian.

So yeah, enjoyed this premiere! Goddammit Filoni, still finding ways to suck me in. :P

[todayisafridaynight]

CANNOT BELIEVE IT'S TAKEN ME SO LONG TO REPLY YOU'VE ALREADY FINISHED THE SECOND MOVIE LOL BUT

I LOVE showing The Mole Song to people because it's like, love it or hate it, you can't possibly have a lukewarm reaction to it. I'm thrilled you liked it so much!!! Hong Kong Capriccio definitely has its moments and I'm glad you enjoyed it too; on that note, I haven't seen Final yet, and it doesn't seem to be hardsubbed online, but I was able to find a raw and subs separately. They seem okay from the scene I skipped to twenty minutes in but not positive lol

It really does set the tone early! I love the cutaway gags too The manga has a lot of absurd non-sequiturs and it was a fun way to adapt that to a new medium. As an adaptation as a whole, Undercover Agent Reiji in particular definitely has the tone down and I appreciate that it kept a lot of the Moments I liked.

Hiura had me from the blood oath… one of the guys of all time… despite how I sound from what I just said, I actually didn't even know there was a manga or a sequel when I first watched it, so I was SO relieved he survived the explosion. I was honestly 100% convinced he'd crash the plane at the end though lol, but I guess that ended up happening in Hong Kong Capriccio anyway?

BUT YEAH LIKE THE GUY JUST HAS A HYPERFIXATION AND I HAVE TO RESPECT THAT. Which, you know, in-universe, to have the whole butterfly motif and then dress your man up in florals… I repeat, Reiji was slaying in that dress… I love everyone's costuming in these movies. SPEAKING OF THE AUCTION, the PSP segment onward was insanely RGGcore wasn't it… good god……

It's kind of funny how little Reiji changes--I guess that's how you keep a manga going for like 900 or whatever chapters so far--because he'll pretty much Always have things he needs to figure out. Still very much fun to watch, though!

ALSO the drugs reminded me (I was expecting them to be In The Dogs too lol), shoutout to manga Tsukihara for having the exact same character arc as Mine and ending up an invaluable ally. Also getting to beat up Ryuji Leo (sorry my boy but Mine is overall the stronger combatant to me and I am tired of the Reddit-y discussions on the wiki saying otherwise </3). Living vicariously while Mine's status is still uncertain lol

P.S. I Too Treat Your Blog Like The Morning Paper and it means a lot to me to have the opportunity to write in and talk! I would also love to join a stream if you ever go for it!

P.P.S. NOOOOOOO PLEASE THE SLOW DANCING…….. UNWELL. I've imagined the same thing but at home… in the light of the refrigator… Jo is still tense as hell both because of the situation and it's such a waste of electricity and they really should close the door as soon as possible… but Arakawa insists if it's only for the duration of the song, it's fine……

YEAH THE MOLE SONG MOVIES WERE REALLY FUN thanks again for recommending it to me (I found out it had a manga series the moment I went to look it up, but I haven't read a lick of it. I'd say I'm surprised it's still running but I mean... manga like One Piece have over a thousand chapters at this point, so I shouldn't be too surprised. Maybe I'll give it a read sometime just to check out how the movies and manga compare-and-contrast with each other)!

1.) BIGGEST HONOR I'm glad my blog can entertain a lot of people (and a big part of that is due in part to people writing in and giving me a chance to chat a bit, so of course I always have to thank you and everyone else for sending me asks as frequently as you all do. They're absolutely the highlight of my day whenever I get the time to answer them ^^)!! I've always liked the idea of streaming (I've attempted to years back but I never tried again afterwards), though I always end up getting too anxious about it (plus I tend to get performance anxiety and I end up taking a lot longer to draw whenever people are watching me). I hope to get over that anxiety one day though- I bet it'd be fun to respond to people in real time or take quick doodle requests mid-stream :)

2.) AW THEM DANCING IN THE KITCHEN THOUGH I CAN SEE IT..... Jo being worried about the electric bill though that's so accurate..... I'll definitely think on the concept of Slow Dancing AraSawa with all the apparent enthusiasm around it.. I promise..

YAYA my friend (who made the post) told me a moment after I told her (also PLEASE I was so heinous reading the name- first thing I said to her aside from 'new movie night plan' was 'how many times does this man play a dude named 'Jo' ☠️☠️)! I wasn't able to find any recordings of the actual play (I know a trailer was posted last year so I don't know if they've actually performed live since then) but here's to hoping one day there's a recording of it posted somewhere...

[readsbymoonlight]

Book: The Orphan Keeper

Author: Camron Wright

Rating: 🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕

Recommended for: Kids, young adults, adults, EVERYONE

Published: 4th October, 2022

So, time to spill the beans—I didn't actually realise this version is for younger readers despite knowing there's another one already published with the same title. For some reason, I totally justified it as yeah, okay, they're just republishing it, nbd. But okay, I can see in hindsight that how it's likely been pared down and with some very moral of the story bits. Even so, I think it can be consumed by readers of all ages and I actually feel like reading the adult version too. Not now, though. Maybe some day.

Perhaps it's tough to imagine how getting kidnapped as a kid and shipped off to be adopted by parents of a completely different ethnicity and background half a world away can be made into a palatable story. But lbr we've read darker things as kids. But Camron Wright is an amazing writer who managed to balance humour and solemnity excellently. Personally, it took a bit of time to get immersed in the story, but once I did, it was a lightning-fast read. Well, compared to my reading speed this year, at least. I thought the way the book was written was very fragmented and pulls you out of the flow of the story. However, these elements tie up beautifully once you reach the end. Even though it was slightly jarring, the staccato beats of some seemingly unrelated anecdotes can be considered as setting the tone, laying groundwork, injecting flavour. So it's fine.

The book might better be served if split into two sections since that was essentially how the story-telling went. There's a huge gap between the time our protagonist, Taj Rowland, just arrived in the US and when he's grown up and graduating high school and beyond. It's like a movie style fast forward without the convenient scene change/montage. At the same time, I'm not very sure how the introduction that says "some of it is fiction" affects the experience of other readers. For me, it made me feel prejudiced against it for some reason. While I understood that it's unfair to claim that stories like these are purely true or purely fiction considering it's a lived experience by people and people forget things, I still got influenced by the idea that it should be more black and white. Which was very wrong of me, and it affected my own enjoyment of the book. Thankfully, I got over that quick.

When it comes down to it, this book is a great read because it's real. If it served as the basis for a completely fictionalised story, I think it would still be amazing because, at its heart, it is about life and how it can be sometimes. There's no easy happy ending and every turn prompts you to give up. But in the end, that's exactly what makes the resolution worth it, especially because Taj could have very well failed to find his family despite trying so hard. But he did and we can all witness his journey.

Disclaimer: e-ARC obtained from NetGalley, photo found on Google

[mirahuyooo]

The Necklace | jjk

The Necklace

— Once upon a time, that necklace was everything. It’s what changed everything. How did he find it?

Word Count: 1,304 Content/s: angst, fluff (if you squint), exes au, there be some tension in the air, vague historical setting? (somewhere in the 1700s); you’re both vampires, Vampire AU (but its not really noted much yet lol) Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

[masterlist] | read more of [The Undying]!

A/N: VAMPIRE JUNGKOOK VAMPIRE JUNGKOOK VAMPIRE JUNGKOOK AHSdhASHD i’M keeping my plans this time and make a drabble only, bUT i have gotten more ideas for this vampire universe thing (???) and i thought i should make a drabble series!! Let me know what you guys think! Anyways, enjoy!!!

The moment you entered your apartment, you knew something was amiss. Your humble abode may get cold at night, but you didn’t have to worry about heat. This, however, brought a different sort of chill down your spine. 

In that instant, you knew just who it was. 

"I must admit, Jungkook, I'm quite disappointed that you've forgotten your manners," you drawled as you shut the door behind you. His name, though a familiar memory to your lips, felt a little off from lack of use. 

Even in the dark, you could make out where in the room he was, sitting in the worn armchair you had posed in the corner for a little book nook—perfect for quiet days like this if he weren't here to disturb it. Though you must give credit where its due, seeing as he surely came prepared to ruin your night in style. Compared to your simple blouse and skirt ensemble, he's dressed like a fine gentleman, different from what you once knew him to be. His hair was swept back away from his face and his frame was clad in fine fabrics with jewelry that glinted at you faintly. 

With precision, you navigate yourself through your kitchen to retrieve the matches. After a strike or two, the flame sparks onto the candles you fed it to, and you realize he's come much closer towards you, standing to his full height to loom over you with a glare. "That makes the two of us then," he sneers, a statement that catches you off guard. 

Under false identities, you've been living a quiet life among mortals for centuries, keeping out of the way of your kind and the cruel sadism they tend to wield. That's all you've been doing and all you plan on doing. 

So what have you done to offend him when you haven't seen him in two hundred years?

Your own brows knit together in a furrow, bearing a hateful glare that rivalled his. "What on Earth are you going on about?" you cross your arms as you take the candlestick you lit to place it on the dining table. "We agreed not to cross each other's paths, didn't we?"

Jungkook scoffs in a bitter tone. "We did," he huffs, as he watches you open the windows and draw the curtains to let some midnight moonlight in. "That's not what I'm cross about…"

His voice fell a tad bit softer in the latter part of his statement, one that peaked a hint of curiosity in you. "Then what is i—"

Words die in your mouth as you nearly choke at the sight of what he pulled from his coat. The necklace—one that brought on so many memories for you both. 

As if calling for your attention even more, the ruby shone brightly when the moonlight hit it. It looks better than when you last saw it—more refined, more polished. How did he find it? 

Jungkook's eyes pierced through your soul—if you had one. "Care to tell me why I found it on the neck of a presumptuous countess?"

Eyes still on the necklace itself, you find yourself missing the sight of it. Still, you had a front to uphold. "What were you doing with the presumptuous countess in the first place?" you retort back with a tilt of your head as you clasp your hands behind your back to appear indifferent. 

It's but a jab, of course. He would've been approaching her with the intent of feeding from her—likely killed her for having the necklace itself. That's the sort of being he became. 

There's a break in his glare—offended by your implications—but he sighs as he looks down at the necklace he stole for you centuries ago. "I understand you despise me, jagi," his voice walks a thin line between emotionless and rage, "but to throw this away?" 

The endearment he used to call you draws butterflies from within you on instinct, even if it did hurt to hear it in such a tone.

Your former flame sets it gently on the dining table, a manner in contrast to his pre-existing attitude. "I'm hurt, jagi," he spat at you with a tight-lipped smile as his eyes flash red for a moment. "Really, I am."

In hindsight, you probably should've kept your mouth shut; should've let him walk through that door—let him think that you really did abandon one of the things that embodied what you had. There'll finally be a more profound reason to not have him and his presence in your life. 

Alas, you didn't have enough reason in you at the moment to think of it. 

Perhaps, it was pride—you refusing to be assumed doing something so heartless like that between the both of you. 

Perhaps, it was nostalgia—you wanting to save the precious memories that necklace held from losing to a misunderstanding.

Perhaps, it was foolishness—you simply not thinking at all, simply letting that foolish part of you resurface. 

"I didn't throw it away."

It was soft, barely audible, but Hell knows he's not a mortal anymore to not hear it. Jungkook halts in his steps, his back still turned on you but he moves his head just the slightest bit. He's listening. 

"I fled to the Americas after what… happened," you tell him, as you approach the dining table. "After a few decades of relative peace, I was accused of being a witch while staying in a town," you shrug, tracing the ruby gem with a finger. 

"They hanged me and buried me in an unmarked grave," you say, your hand reaching around your neck as the memory of the rope tightening around it lingered for a moment. Thankfully, they thought you the wrong kind of supernatural. Otherwise, a stake through the heart and you really would've died. "When I came to, I found my cottage ransacked—the necklace gone, among other things."

You look at the necklace, wondering since when you last really saw it before everything that happened. After Jungkook turned—that wretched day—you buried that necklace under your other belongings, ignoring it existed even if you didn't have the heart to get rid of it. 

"I tried looking for it, but to no avail," you say, a hint of a sheepish smile on your lips attempting to break the somber atmosphere. "You know I've never been good at finding things."

Looking up, you see that he has turned towards you, nostrils flared and his fists clenched. For someone who's been human more recently than you were, Jungkook definitely held distaste for mankind. Reasonable, of course, but you knew he didn't like the way you were so pliant with them. 

Something unpleasant settles in you—guilt, perhaps over losing the necklace, and then some. "I'm sorry," you say before you can help yourself. 

Gathering ahold of yourself, you straighten yourself and turn your attention back to the object of this discussion.

Perhaps, it isn't meant for you. 

Perhaps, it's destiny that you lost the necklace and it lands back to his graces. 

Perhaps, it is meant to be the last of your goodbye to Jungkook. 

"You can take it back," you tell him, picking the necklace up in your hands and turning towards him, but Jungkook takes it from your grasp before you can even hand it over properly. For a moment, your heart shatters, thinking he does think you unworthy of the necklace and all that it entailed. 

Suddenly, however, you see him effortlessly unclasping the thing in his hands. "Nonsense," Jungkook refuses, icy but well-meaning in a way that flutters your unbeating heart as he gingerly drapes the necklace around your neck. His touch is cold—as you vampires are—but the warmth it incited in you was the same as it had been two centuries ago. 

Jungkook's gaze tantalizingly raked over you, drinking in the sight of the ruby gems once again twinkling across your chest. Eyes as red as the rubies on your neck soon pinned into yours, and for a moment you think there's some fondness behind that smirk he gives you. 

"You best not lose it again, jagi," he tells you, a warning and a tease.

And he's out the door. 

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 : @mwitsmejk​ @dreamamubarak

[bots-and-cons]

What if Starscream returned to earth and captured autobot! Knockout's human s/o? (post-predacons rising)

So the first part to this would be this post here I guess. I couldn’t really come up with a good reason for Screamer to want to blackmail Knockout like this, so I just made him sort of like Knockout’s super toxic (ex)friend. Also these will be tagged autobot!knockout au, in the future

You found yourself facing yet another giant robot. Not the familiar red medic you had gotten so used to, but another, gray and taller one. From what Knockout had told you about his past, you assumed this was Starscream.

“I’ve been looking for you” the gray mech said.

“I think you’ve got the wrong person” you said, taking a step back.

“From your lack of a frightened reaction, I’d say you’re exactly who I’m looking for. Now tell me where I can find that wayward medic, and I’ll spare you” 

“Why would I tell you? Especially because you seem like you have bad intentions with him” you said defiantly.

Knockout was supposed to come pick you up after your hike, so you could go and hang out together, and now you were really hoping he would be late.

“I don’t think you’re fully comprehending the situation you’re in, human. Either you tell me where I can find that insufferable idiot, or I squeeze the life out of you” Starscream said, and wrapped his hand around you, lifting you to be at eye level with him.

“Let go of me!” you shouted.

“Call him, and I will” Starscream demanded, squeezing you a little tighter.

You squirmed in his grip, but stopped when you heard the sound of a car coming to a stop behind Starscream. It was followed by the familiar sounds of Knockout transforming into his robot form.

“What do you want Starscream?” Knockout asked in an annoyed tone, trying to mask his fear.

He knew this could happen. He knew one of his former comrades could come after him. He had just been hoping that when they did, you wouldn’t be involved, but here you were, getting hurt because of him.

“What do I want? I want you to come back to Cybertron. You belong there, and not on this wretched planet with these pathetic humans” Starscream said as he turned around to face the mech he had once considered a friend.

“Starscream, please let them go so we can talk about this” Knockout pleaded.

“I don’t think I will. I can’t risk you running away with your little pet” Starscream said, squeezing you a little tighter, just enough so you made an expression of pain.

“If you don’t, we have nothing to talk about, and if you hurt them, I swear you’ll never see me again” Knockout said defiantly, knowing it was a bit of a risky play, but hoping it would work.

“Fine, have it your way” Starscream sighed, rolling his optics.

He set you down on the ground and you hurried to Knockout.

“Are you hurt?” he asked straight away, kneeling down to check on you.

“I’m fine, probably a little bruised, but nothing’s broken” you said, giving Starscream a side glare.

“So talk, Starscream, but just know that I’m not going back to Cybertron with you” Knockout said, as you took shelter behind him.

“This human you seem to fancy. Their species isn’t very long lived is it, compared to us I mean” Starscream said, starting to walk back and forth.

“And?” Knockout asked, crossing his arms in front of himself.

“So you might not return with me today, but all I have to do is wait a few decades and you will have let go of this foolish affection you hold for them” Starscream laughed mockingly, motioning towards you.

Starscream didn’t have anything more to say to Knockout. He knew he’d planted the seeds of doubt in his former friend and that was enough for now. So he left, leaving Knockout and you just standing there in a cloud of dust.

“Well that was a not so pleasant surprise” you said.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, it’s my fault this happened in the first place” Knockout said apologetically.

“Other people's actions are not your responsibility Knocky, and you got me out of it without me getting hurt badly” you said.

“We should probably go, in case he decides to circle back” Knockout said and transformed into his alt mode.

You hopped onto the front seat, and he started driving away.

Knockout was glad the situation hadn’t escalated, but he couldn’t help but think about what Starscream had said. That was a problem for the future however.

You were looking out the car window, but what Starscream had said was weighing on you. You weren’t really worried about yourself, you were worried about Knockout. The two of you had never really talked about how different your lives were, how he would outlive you by probably hundreds of human lifetimes. You weren’t the one who would be left alone, you would get to love him for your whole life, if fate allowed. You just hoped that after you were gone from his life, no matter how it happened, he would love someone again, and more importantly love himself.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (cnc), dom/sub relationship, ‘mistress’ title, pain kink, cockwarming, orgasm denial/control, use of a cockring, slapping, objectification/degradation, some angst and hurt/comfort, crying after sex, touchstarved!bucky

new parts posted on thursdays!  join the taglist here

"And you can promise complete and total discretion?” the deep and husky voice on the other end of the line repeated, low enough that it was almost a whisper.

You laughed a little. “Of course,” you answered. Most clients were serious about privacy, but this guy was next level. He must be famous, you thought to yourself, or married. Or both.

But just as much as your clients wanted to keep you separate from their personal life, you would rather they know nothing about who you are. Of course it was always a risk, since nobody could hide their face and you had to work out of your apartment, but you did what you could to keep your job just that— a job.

You told your friends you were a consultant, because people didn’t question that. Sure, it was hard to keep up the lie sometimes when you got last-minute bookings and had to cancel plans, but it was worth it for the money these men were willing to pay.

And this new guy? He was shelling out all kinds of cash, on a long set of conditions. Including an NDA. You wouldn’t have given him up either way, but if the contract made him feel better (and made him pay more) then you were happy to sign it.

“So it’s all anonymous, then? No ID, no credit card…?” he pressed.

“I mean, if cash is easier for you—”

“It is.”

You were starting to worry that this was a major red flag, as if he didn’t want to be traceable back to you at all. It was almost a dealbreaker, until you glanced down at the legal pad you’d written his offer on and remembered that you couldn’t afford to turn him down. “Then cash is fine,” you decided, making a note to yourself to have 911 already dialed when he came by in case his aversion to ID was really about a desire to get away with something.

“When can we start?”

“Um, well the soonest I can do is tomorrow at seven” you explained.

"Great, I'll be there," he answered firmly, apparently about to hand up.

“Hey, hey, slow down!” you chuckled. “Can I at least get a name?”

“I didn’t think we needed to do names.”

“We don’t… but if you’re willing, I’d like to know something to call you.”

“James,” he answered after a tense pause. “James is fine.”

“Alright, James, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Upon opening the door, you instantly noticed three things about him: he was tall, he was big, and he was sexy.

You had sort of been hoping that his appearance wouldn’t match his voice, but it did, and it was going to make this so much harder.  Maybe easier in a few ways, but overall worse.  It was important that you didn’t get too emotionally invested with your clients.

His eyes were dragging over you like he was just as taken aback.  Which was odd, because he must have seen your picture online before he called you.  

“James,” you greeted. “Glad you made it.”

You stepped aside to let him enter, guiding him to take a seat in your living room.  Before clients came by, you hid any signs of life and kept the space as neutral as possible, which was why the only furniture was the white couch he sat on, the black chair across from it, and a glass table in between.

You sat in the black chair and crossed your legs, noticing with pride the way his eyes studied your every move.

“It’s important that we have a discussion about boundaries and limits before this goes any further," you explained sternly, and he nodded slightly.  "Tell me what you do and don't want."

“Uh, well, I guess I was just looking for… somebody who can administer, um, discipline… you know, someone who sets rules and enforces them.  But could also be kind of, uh, sweet I guess, to.  Not too sweet, just… not too mean either."

You smiled a little; he sounded right up your alley.  "I can do that."

"You should know I… I have a… disability.  My left arm it's, um, it's a prosthetic."

"How would you like me to accommodate that?"

"Just don't say anything about it, please.  Treat it like a normal arm.  And, uh, if you could ignore my scars, too…" he added awkwardly.

"Of course,” you nodded, “I would never want to make you feel insecure."

"Well, I mean, I'm not against degradation," he admitted sheepishly, making you smile a little.

"Right: that's different.  Anything else you're distinctly not against?"

“I can take a lot of pain,” he explained matter-of-factly.  “However much you think I can handle, double it.  I wanna feel it.”

You could almost hear the words he wasn’t saying: I wanna feel something.

“Okay, we can do that.  You’ve probably heard of the color system," you posited.

“I haven’t.”

"Oh."  That threw you off slightly… how new was he to this scene?  “Well, it’s traditionally green, yellow, red; like a stoplight.  Red means stop.  Yellow means proceed with caution.  Green means continue.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Too simple for me, in fact.  I have my own version: ‘red’ will make me stop what I’m doing, but only ‘black’ ends the scene entirely.  And then there’s ‘blue.’  That means you want more.”

He smirked a little; a strong show of emotion compared to his stoicism so far.  “I think I’ll use that one most.”

“Just don’t be afraid to use anything else, alright?  I’d never be disappointed in you for safewording, or even just needing a break.”

He nodded.  “Can we get to it then?”

“You’re rushing as always,” you laughed.  “I’m not charging you for this part.  We have plenty of time— don’t we?”

“Yes, but—” he sighed.  “You look really… I walked in and, I guess I’m just really looking forward to this.”

You almost would’ve smiled at the compliment but you thankfully suppressed it.  “And what is it that you’re looking forward to?  What do you want me to do to you?”

His jaw tightened as he looked away from you.  “Um, there’s a lot.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Ropes.  Strongest you have.  I can buy you stronger ones if you need them, for next time…”

He’s already thinking about next time?  He’s already thinking about buying me things?

“Alright, I can do ropes: wrists and ankles?  Or more than that?”

He seemed a bit confused by that question.  “Is there anywhere else?”

“Torso,” you enumerated, “neck—” you stopped because you saw his reaction to that, and it made you smile a bit.  “Okay, so maybe the neck is something to try.  Do you like being choked?”

“I… I don’t know…” he sighed.

“Have you ever been choked before?”

“Not… sexually...”

You felt your eyebrows rise, but didn’t want to press; a story for another time, perhaps.

“We’ll have to discuss silent safewords and signals so you can tap out, but if you’d be willing to try it—”

“Yes.”

You laughed.  “Eager, are we?”

He swallowed, and you wondered if you shouldn’t have let your ‘dom voice’ slip out in that moment… but he looked so good flustered like that.  He adjusted himself slightly in his chair and you hoped he was already hard.  And with that thought in mind, you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him further.

“Do you like being called certain things?” you asked, voice lower as you leaned forward.  “How do you feel about ‘pet’?” 

He almost kept up his poker face, but his gaze faltered at the same time he moved in his chair again.  “Um, ‘pet’ is okay.”

“Baby boy?”

“Not really my speed,” he shrugged.

You slipped out of your chair and stood up, approaching him slowly as the click of your heels echoed across the tile.  He watched you with wide eyes and quickening breaths.

“What do you like?  Tell me,” you demanded, though you kept your tone light.

“Uh,” he paused, watching your hand as it rested on his leg, “I like… I like being called a good boy.”

You grinned as you pulled your hand away, watching him tense up with disappointment.  “I can do that,” you agreed, lifting his chin with a finger until he looked at you with those beautiful, desperate eyes, “if you actually are being a good boy for me.” “I will,” he promised quickly, “I’ll be so good.”

“Mmm, I bet you will,” you purred.  “So willing to please…”

“Tell me how,” he sighed as your hand trailed from his chin down to his chest, slipping under the loose collar of his henley and rubbing his chest.  “Tell me how to please you.”

“Well, for starters, I have a name, too: Mistress.”

He sighed like the wind had been knocked out of him, but nodded.

“And if I ask you a question, I expect you to answer ‘Yes, Mistress’ or ‘No, Mistress’.  Is that clear?”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed before suddenly correcting himself, “um, yes, Mistress.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” you frowned, “but further infractions will be punished.”

“Yes, Mistress; I’m sorry, Mistress,” he moaned, melting under your touch as your hand moved down to rub his thigh through his jeans.

“Now, just for fun,” you smiled, leaning down until your lips were nearly brushing his ear, “tell me what you want.”

“Please touch me, Mistress,” he sighed.

“But I am touching you.”

“Touch my… touch my cock," he clarified, adorably embarrassed. "It’s so hard for you…”

“We’ll get to that eventually.  Let’s go to the bedroom first, okay?”

However good he looked standing in your doorway half an hour ago, it was nothing compared to how he looked naked and hard and tied to your bed.

Yes, the prosthetic and the scars that attached it to his body were hard to ignore.  He had failed to warn you that it was metal, so you couldn’t hide the slight shift of your face when it caught the light; you hoped he didn’t think it was a look of judgment or disgust, because you truly didn’t think it was anything upsetting.  Maybe the scars were a little worrying… but they didn’t seem to bother him now, at least physically.

But truly, if anything was distracting about his body, it wasn’t the arm.  It was his muscles— no wait, it had to be his cock, right?  It’s tough to call: on one hand, his entire body was toned and hardened beyond the peak of human conditioning, his thick thighs making your mouth water already, his chiseled abs almost making you jealous; but on the other hand, between those lovely thighs and curving up against those perfect abs was a cock that rivalled anything you'd ever seen before, with a blue vein running up one side and a drip of precum rolling down the other.

You finally sauntered up to the bed and ran your fingers over the taught ropes, pretending to ignore him watching you impatiently.  It was almost hotter knowing that he could pull out of the ropes if he really wanted to.  More than most, he was choosing to submit to them and to you.

“How’s this knot feel?  Too tight?” you hummed, tugging the rope just beside his wrist and watching his hand move limply with it.

“No, it’s good.”

You stepped back to the foot of the bed and stripped slowly, peeling off your black dress to reveal a matching lace set underneath.  You left your heels on as you stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside.

Turning back to face him, James looked like he was all but drooling.  You could see in his eyes how much he wished the ropes weren’t holding him back so he could run his hands all over your body.

But you could tell he craved being denied what he wanted, by the way his cock flexed of its own volition.

You let yourself smile as you crawled your way up the bed and over his body, like a panther stalking its prey, and boy did he look ready to be devoured.

"Are you scared?" you asked quietly.  He shook his head.  "Are you ready?"

He nodded.  You sat up as you straddled him, positioned just right such that no part of you was really touching him, and watched with delight as he tugged against the ropes slightly to try to get closer.

"So needy," you grinned, somewhere between praising and scolding him.  Your fingers ghosted over his chest and he shivered; he asked you to treat his prosthetic like a normal arm, so you dragged your nails down the metal and watched his eyes flutter shut.  When you pulled your hand back and left him untouched again, he whined slightly.

“Aw, poor thing,” you pouted as you examined him, desperation emanating off of him in an invisible aura.  “Your cock is all red and leaking… it must hurt, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned.

“What if I touch it a little?” you offered.

“Please…”

You traced your fingers lightly up and down his length, tickling the skin and giving him the least pressure that you could.  He whimpered and you chuckled mockingly.  “I said I’d touch it a little, sweet boy, are you not satisfied?”

He bucked up into your touch as best he could, causing you to pull your hand away.  “Baby, please—” 

You cut him off with a slap to the face, as hard as you could muster.

“Mistress!” he corrected with a whine.  “Mistress, please… please wrap your hand around it.”

“Around what?” 

“Around… my cock.  Stroke me, please…”

“All you had to do was ask,” you grinned, finally tightening your hand around him and moving slowly up and down the shaft.  His head fell back with a soft moan, just from that.  Your teasing had certainly helped get him this worked up, but you knew it wasn't just that… he was plenty sensitive all on his own, apparently.

It made your mouth water.

"Does this feel good, James?" you asked huskily.

"S-so good," he whimpered, "please can you… stroke it a little faster, please, Mistress…"

"Hmm, not yet," you decided, feeling him tense up beneath you.  "Relax," you instructed with a free hand rubbing his thigh gently.  

You continued to teasingly stroke his length, never quite giving him the pressure or speed he needed to get closer to his release, savoring every whimper and whine and sigh from him along with the satisfying weight of his cock against your palm.

It felt like you'd never get tired of wielding so much power in your hand.

"Please," he sighed, "I need more…"

"You want me to stroke you faster?" you pressed, already knowing that wasn't what he meant.  He shook his head and you grinned, leaning in closer but letting go of his cock. 

Slowly, you let the lace covering your core rub up against his shaft, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.  "Ohhhhh," he moaned, "oh fuck, Mistress…"

You grinned and kept rocking against him, easily feeling the warmth of him through your panties— meaning he, in turn, could feel the warmth of you.  "How does it feel, baby?" 

"Good," he choked out, "really, really good… fuck, I want more, I need more, please…"

"Are you my good boy, James?" you asked in a low purr.  He nodded eagerly, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nothing.  "Do you want to be inside me?" you finally whispered against his ear, letting a finger run lazily up his spine and feeling him shiver so hard it was more like he was convulsing.

"Please, Mistress, I'll do anything…"

You didn't touch all of your clients sexually, due in part to the fact that they usually wanted a lot more pain than pleasure.  You'd only had sex with one or two of them, and it wasn't a routine thing.  Before today you never would've imagined doing this with a first-time client, but to be completely honest… he was fucking hot.  The kind of guy you'd be spreading your legs for instantly if you weren't at work and he wanted to buy you a drink or grab lunch.  And he was here, at your disposal, begging you for more.  How could you say no?  

You pulled your panties aside and gripped his cock tightly to guide it to your entrance, studying his face twisted in anticipation before sinking down and watching him gasp and sigh all at once, somehow.

It took a lot of effort to hide your own pleasure when he was stretching you out so perfectly, but you managed to suppress the desire to moan and just smile at his fucked-out expression instead.

Finally, your hips met with his and you got to sit there and enjoy the look of dawning agony as he realized you were staying completely still.

“Move, please,” he sobbed, “oh god, Mistress, please move…”

“But I thought you wanted to be inside me?  Isn’t this what you asked for?”

He whined and tried to wiggle his hips; all that got him was two hard slaps to the face.  

“No whining,” you instructed through your teeth.  “Good boys don’t whine.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “‘m your good boy, I promise.”

“I know you are,” you grinned, “or at least, I know you can be.  Show me how good and patient you are.”

Reaching to the side a bit without getting off of him, you pulled a vibrator from your drawer.  His eyes went a little wide when he saw it, and you laughed.

"Don't worry, this isn't for you.  It's for me," you explained as you turned it on, inserting it between your body and his to touch the toy against your clit.  He winced as you sighed contentedly.  "Fuck, it feels good.  Can you feel it on your cock?"

"A… a little…" he hissed.

"I bet it feels good for you too," you posited, "but not good enough to make you come."

After a little pause, he nodded breathlessly.

"Good," you smiled.  "I just wanna come with your cock inside me.  I wanna know how it feels to get off with my favorite toy while being full of my newest toy."

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Do you like that, pretty boy?  Do you like me using your cock, being your Mistress' dumb little fucktoy?"

"Yes," he sobbed, hips shifting ever so slightly beneath you as he sought more stimulation from your flexing walls.  Shifting the vibe to hit right on your clit, you cried out— and he did too, at the feeling of you tightening around him.

"God, you love being Mistress' dildo, don't you?"

He nodded, biting hard on his lip until you worried he'd hurt himself.  He moaned again as another jolt of pleasure forced your channel to clench on his cock.

"You're making too much noise for a fucktoy, you need to be quiet."

He opened his mouth for a second, but closed it again and nodded instead.  

"You can do it yourself right?" you pressed, seeing him nod.  "You don't need me to gag that pretty mouth?" 

He whined but shook his head, keeping his lips pressed together.

That went on for a few more moments as you teased yourself with the vibe, hoping to draw this out for the sake of his struggle.  Wanting to up the ante, you took the vibe off your clit and turned it off for a moment.  "I think this would feel better with a little lube… will you get it wet for me, James?"

You brought the toy to his lips and he eagerly wrapped them around it, sucking lightly on the silicone with those pretty lashes resting on his cheeks.

"There you go, that's a good boy," you praised, pulling the toy from his mouth, "that's my good boy…"

"Yours…" he repeated weakly, "wanna be good for you, just for you…"

This time when you turned it on and pressed it to your clit again, you instantly gasped and felt your walls bare down on him; turning up the vibration, you actually moaned aloud and saw him wince.  "Oh, can you feel it now?" you asked tauntingly.  He bit his lip and nodded.

It really wasn't even intentional but you felt your hips start to rock, making him gasp as his eyes shot open.  For a guy who had been begging you to move not too long ago, he looked pretty overwhelmed by it now.

"Fuck, I'm gonna make myself come on your cock… do you wanna feel me come, baby?"

He seemed conflicted, which was exactly what you were going for.  You wanted him to struggle, just enough, between his need to satisfy himself and his desire to please you.  "I… I want to make you come, Mistress," he finally choked out, notably answering a slightly different question than the one you'd asked.  

You smiled and leaned in to whisper in his ear: "Are you afraid that if you feel me come around you, you won't be able to hold back?  That you might accidentally come inside me?"

He made a needy little groan and nodded.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna help you," you promised sweetly, but of course as soon as he saw you grab a cockring from your drawer he changed his tune.

"N-no, Mistress, please," he begged with wide eyes, "I'll be good, just not that— don't put that on me."

You smirked and sat up, pulling off of him and slowly slipping the ring on his throbbing length as he quietly pleaded for mercy.  He winced when you pushed it down to the base of him, his cheeks burning hot red now.

"Is it a little too tight, baby?" you cooed, grinning when he nodded.  "Good."

You sank back down into him and let your hips grind on his, working your clit with the vibe and even kicking it up to the next highest setting.  He jolted beneath you, clearly feeling the vibrations strongly now, and you let the view of his beautifully broken facial expression egg on your own climax.

"Mm, I'm close, baby," you whispered, "just stay still and let Mistress use you like a good little boy."

He made a small noise through his teeth but seemed to manage okay, even when your walls began to pulse rhythmically around him and your head fell back, your free hand palming at your breast through the lace bra just to add that last little edge of sensation.

"Oh fuck, fuck," you moaned, "that's my good boy…"

You shakily pulled the vibe away and turned it off, still a little numb on your clit but feeling your channel still rippling slightly with aftershocks; he seemed to feel them in spite of their subtlety, if the panting breaths that filled his muscular chest rapidly were any indication.

As slow as you could manage, you pulled your body off of him and sat back on his legs to stare at his cock.  The remnants of your orgasm left plenty of lubrication to stroke it, focusing on the head which had turned almost purple now.

"M-Mistress," he groaned, writhing under your touch.

Amazingly, his cock was already flexing in your hand, and a growl of pride and hunger echoed in your chest.

“Oh fuck, can you come for me, James?” you moaned, pumping him so fast your hand was a blur.  “Can you be my good boy and come right through the cockring?”

“Yes,” he sobbed, “gonna come, Mistress, please—”

“Come right now,” you demanded, watching his face instantly fall slack as he spurted out onto his own chest and stomach, cock flexing and pulsing in your hands as his legs quivered and his hips thrusted wildly.

And the tears were flowing soon after.  You weren’t sure if it was sub drop or just the power of his release, but between weak sobs he whispered broken apologies.

“You did so good,” you cooed as you slipped off the ring and wrapped your arms around him, subtly trying to reach over to untie the ropes.  But you didn’t need to; he flexed his arms and the restraints popped like floss.  He embraced you in return as you let his head fall onto your chest.  “You’re so good, it’s okay,” you continued, stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, breathing quickly and wetting you with his tears.

This, you realized, is what he had made you sign the contract to protect.  It wasn’t that he was excessively embarrassed about his sexual proclivities, but that this was his space to be soft, and weak, and broken.  Apparently he wasn’t ready for anyone else to know that he wasn’t steel all the way down.

“Shh, it’s okay… you’re okay…” you breathed, indulging him in this moment even though it was more intimate than you preferred to get with customers.  Aftercare was an important part of your job, certainly, but so was enforcing boundaries.

He began to soothe as you kissed his forehead gently, whispering well-deserved affirmations and praise.  As his breathing slowed and moved back to normal, he pulled back and looked up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated one more time, but not as wavering as before, “I didn’t think I would… that was unexpected.”

“No, it’s somewhat normal,” you exaggerated slightly, “this kind of thing… it’s taxing, I pushed you to your limits.  You were really tough, and it’s all very vulnerable.”

“Thanks,” he sighed, sniffling and wiping his eyes.  “And sorry about your ropes,” he smiled as he noticed the frayed ends coming off of where his wrists were still tied.

“Let me help you get those off,” you smiled, loosening the knots and sliding the binds off of him, quickly massaging the places that the rope had constricted.  “Blood flow’s okay?”

“Yep,” he nodded.

“You numb anywhere?” you pressed.

“Uh, just my dick.  And my brain is all fuzzy…” 

You smiled.  “Can’t help the first one.  Let me get you some water for the second.”

“No!” he yelped suddenly.  “Um, don’t go yet, please…”

“Of course,” you smiled.  “I’ll untie your ankles, then.”

He still seemed disappointed, as if he expected you to hug him for hours and never move.  He let you go this time, though, and loosened his grip so you could slide down to the foot of the bed.  

"Was that sort of what you were hoping for when you called me?" you asked as you untied the ropes slowly and took a moment to massage the skin underneath, hoping to restore any lost blood flow.

"So much better than what I was hoping for," he admitted with a breathless chuckle.  "You're… really good."

"Well, thank you," you shrugged, "it comes with practice and experience.  You held your own, too."

"I wish I could say that was from practice and experience.  I didn't want to say anything before but I've, uh, never actually… been to a domme before."

You smiled slightly, coming back up and being pulled into another embrace.  "Um, I'll admit I can kind of tell…" you mumbled.

"I'm not supposed to touch you like this," he realized quietly, relaxing his grip on you and pulling back.  "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright, just don't get too comfortable because we only have—" you glanced at the clock— "eight more minutes until you need to leave."

"I'll get up and get dressed soon," he offered with a sigh as you got up and quickly slipped on a robe, grabbing him a damp washcloth for the drying come on his torso.

You tilted your head as you watched him clean up, and you wanted to offer some touch that was a bit less intimate than a hug, so you found yourself blurting out: "do you like having your hair played with?"

"Um, I don't… I don't know," he admitted as he reached up to card his fingers through the hair in question.  "No one else has ever really touched my hair before."

"Really?" you laughed, getting back on the bed to sit beside him.  "It looks pretty luscious.  I figured any girlfriend of yours would want to get her hands on it."

"Oh, well, the last time I had a girlfriend… it wasn't long then," he explained, and you kept on your best poker face.  His hair looked like he'd been growing it out for at least two years, unless it grew crazy fast or something.  How long had he been single?  With a body like that you could barely believe that he was single now.

"Do you mind if I touch it?" you offered quietly, and once he gave you a nod you reached forward and combed your fingers through it, reaching deeper to scratch at his scalp, occasionally pulling the strands lightly into loose braid-like patterns that fell away almost immediately afterwards.  He sank into your touch until you found yourself supporting his head against your chest, mindlessly playing with his hair until you noticed his eyes were shut, his breathing was slowed, and his body was limp on top of yours.

He fell asleep.

You laughed silently to yourself, realizing that you couldn't get him off of you without his cooperation since he was so heavy and you had no shot at lifting him.  And, of course, his cooperation required his consciousness… which required waking him up.

And, for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to do it.  He just looked too peaceful, for a guy who had never seemed truly relaxed around you.

Was there any other way he could relax?  Cause it kinda seemed like he really, really needed this.  And you were in the business of meeting needs, to say the least.

So, with an apologetic text to your last client of the night that you needed to reschedule, you let James sleep on you as you closed your eyes and drifted off as well.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

The Holidays (derogatory)

hi dont look at this too hard i promise im not projecting at all - also if you like christmas and thanksgiving and that shit and have a good time maybe skip over it, i dont want any ‘yOu DoNt LiKe ThE hOlIdAyS?!?’ on this

pairing: Geraskier

CW: modern au, jaskier is the baby gay who went off and started his own life and is stressed/depressed about the holiday season meaning shitty family members, geralt takes care of him, jask feels guilty?, jask isn’t out to his family, depression tw but not in a wholly wallowing/graphic way?

____________________________________

Jaskier had been functioning. Just functioning and he was rather proud of himself for that much, even if it did still feel like a failure. But he made it to work, pretended he was fine, and had been feeding himself, so when Geralt asked how he was doing he said he was fine. Because compared to previous holiday seasons he had a lot more to freak the fuck out about and he was still doing more than before so he reasoned he was actually fine. 

The fact that his studio apartment looked like a depression cave and he hadn’t cleaned the litter box in a little too long or taken out the trash kind of slipped his mind. The numbness blocked it out. 

So when Geralt showed up at his door with takeout after the third cancelled date it was with mute horror and an apologetic look that Jaskier let him in. Geralt simply set the food out on his dinky little kitchen table and instructed him to eat. When Jaskier just frowned at him, Geralt held him by the shoulders and kissed his forehead before guiding him to sit and opening the pressed aluminum container full of his favorite pasta. 

“You eat, I’ll get the kitchen.”

A strange mixture of relief and embarrassment settled in Jaskier’s gut as he picked at his pasta and watched Geralt clean his tiny kitchen. He’d really only been eating avocado toast and taquitos all month so it wasn’t like there was all that much to clean, but watching some of the evidence of his spiral disappear was nice, even if it really was just a tiny bit. When Geralt was done, he sat down next to Jaskier and ate his pasta, finishing well before Jaskier did, but he didn’t mention it. He kept up a light, pointless conversation about Roach, showing Jaskier a picture of the hole his new husky puppy had made and sat in at the dog park which made Jaskier giggle just a bit. It felt odd, giggling. To be honest, it felt a little hysterical, but it was a nice change from the way he’d been two seconds from crying all week. 

When Jaskier was finally done, Geralt cleaned that mess up too before he led Jaskier into the little nook he called a living room, even if it was really just a carefully positioned couch and coffee table in a weird corner of the apartment. 

Giving him a playful nudge, Geralt winked at him, “If there’s anything you don't want me to see, hide it now. We’re cleaning this up.” 

If he hadn’t felt like absolute garbage, Jaskier would have sputtered, but as it were he just raised his eyebrows in the closest he could get to playful, “And what do you think I might want to hide?” 

“Well,” Geralt started, grunting a little as he leaned down to collect a laundry basket laying on its side, “you were a little jumpy about your butt plug a couple months ago. Just giving you a heads up.” The slight teasing tone in his voice warmed Jaskier’s insides even if he rolled his eyes in response. 

It had been the most ridiculous fight Jaskier had ever had, yelling at Geralt for accidentally finding his little box of toys while he was looking for bandaids. In the end Geralt was laughing his ass off and Jaskier was so embarrassed he thought he’d melt into the floor. Geralt had to drink a glass of water to calm down before he could give Jaskier a hug and ask Were you scared I’d make fun of you? Having to admit to his hot new older boyfriend that he’d never had a boyfriend before and he only figured out he liked men a couple months prior to meeting said boyfriend and wasn’t entirely sure what to think let alone expect from new boyfriend wasn't Jaskier’s favorite conversation, but it did make a few things easier. 

He was mulling over the day as he picked things up and made a pile of laundry to do while Geralt vacuumed and bagged up the trash. It really didn’t take that long, his apartment wasn’t huge by any means, but the difference was incredible. 

Geralt practically made them a nest of blankets on Jaskier’s bed before tugging Jaskier down on top of him and enveloping him in those heavy comforting arms, “Better?”

“Much.” Jaskier sighed, snuggling deeper into Geralt’s chest, “I take it my ‘fine’ wasn’t really convincing?”

“No, and, y’know the holidays,” Geralt tacked an exhausted sigh on after ‘the holidays’ and kissed the top of Jaskier’s head, “Wanna talk about it?” His tone was so careful, so uncharacteristically gentle and quiet that it took Jaskier by surprise for a moment. 

“I… yeah…” Jaskier stumbled over his words as tears welled up in his eyes, “I just don’t know where to start…”

Running a soothing hand up and down Jaskier’s back, Geralt hummed, “Can you tell me what you feel?”

“Scared.” Jaskier surprised himself by putting a name to it so quickly, “Scared and tired.”

“What are you afraid of?” Geralt tucked the blankets tighter around them as he asked, making Jaskier feel that much more cocooned and safe.

“Uhm…” Jaskier did his best to take a deep breath but his breath hitched as he fought a sob, “g-going home? I don’t know how much… uhm... fuck.... I don’t know- how much of any of it I can take? My family isn’t exactly the Adams’,” Jaskier ended on an ugly watery laugh that felt almost as hollow as he was. 

Geralt just hummed in acknowledgement and continued stroking Jaskier’s back as he cried through his words.

“They- they don’t know and they’re assholes anyway and- and- and my mom’s going to make a scene because she does every year and her sisters are a shit show and I cant even get drunk for it because I have to work the next day and I can’t accidentally let it slip I fucking can’t. I can’t handle that on top of all the other family drama right now.”

Tilting his chin up to look at him, Geralt kissed the crease between his brows, “They don’t know about me, or that I’m a witcher?”

Guilt washed over Jaskier as he tried his best to suck in a usable breath. He’d made a point to show Geralt off to all his friends in the city. Geralt had been kept secret in so many relationships and Jaskier hated that, he hated it so much, because Geralt was fucking phenomenal in every way and he deserved the world. 

“No…” Jaskier held his breath as he looked into Geralt’s eyes. They swam a bit in the tears overflowing and blurring his vision, but he didn’t see any anger there, just concern, and that hurt worse. He was supposed to be a fixer, not be fixed.

“Jask, breath for me. Nice and slow- there you go. What don’t they know, love?”

Jaskier sniffed and gave up trying to control his voice, muffling the little wail into Geralt’s chest, “They don’t even know I’m bi!” He sobbed horribly, expecting Geralt to be angry, or at least a little annoyed that they’d been dating for almost six months and Jaskier hadn’t told his family. He prepared his body for Geralt to leave, for the only comfort he could find to be the giant mass of pillows and blankets on his bed. But Geralt only tightened his hold.

“Oh sweetheart I’m sorry,” Geralt mumbled into Jaskier’s hair. 

“You’re sorry? But I k-kept you secret?”

“Not with the people you trust.” Geralt squeezed him a little tighter still, just for a moment before leaning back to look at him, “I’m sorry your family never made you feel safe enough to share this part of yourself.” he whispered, wiping tears away from Jaskier’s cheeks away as he spoke. 

Jaskier only squeaked in response, devolving into more tears and shuddering breaths. Geralt held him and whispered soft soothing reassurances until Jaskier had emptied out absolutely everything. 

They didn’t move till the next morning, and even then, Geralt kept Jaskier close enough to pull into a hug at a moment's notice. The holiday season was awful, but at least Jaskier had someone who understood and insisted on holding his hand. 

[andtheydontstopwriting]

𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙨 -【Rodrick Heffley x F!Reader】- One-Shot

rating: pg

word count: 6.2k

summary: [y/n], daughter from a wealthy family from New York City, has been keeping her relationship with rodrick heffley a secret from her parents, though what happens if it’s brought up and her parents want to meet the secret boyfriend?

author’s note: here it is! hope you guys all enjoy it!! though i did want to let you know that i wrote this originally as a piece of work for my original character, which is why it is in third person! if you want to request anything feel free to!! once again, thank you for reading it!

keys: [y/nn] - your nickname

“I didn’t mean to tell them, [Y/NN].” Caleb spoke in hushed tones, as he attempted to prevent any outburst that he doubted would come from his younger sister, but it was still something that he felt that needed to be stopped, “But I’m sure neither you or Rodrick would exactly be thrilled if you ended up going to homecoming with David or Chad, and you know how dad-.”

 “Listens to you, yes, I do know that, Caleb,” [Y/N] began, though her train of thought was shooting off in a million different directions, “And I do appreciate you trying to stick up for my happiness, but now we have to deal with what comes with doing that.”

 It did not take long for Caleb to know what [Y/N] meant, because their father did bring it up in the conversation that started this whole situation. 

 “Father and Mother want to meet him.”

 “And I don’t know if I can teach Rodrick to have the manners and social know-how that we and whoever Father believes would be more acceptable.”

 “Maybe it’s for the best that’s the case, [Y/NN],” Caleb pointed out, placing a gentle hand on his 

sister’s shoulder, “Give yourself the chance to step out of the spotlight for once, your happiness is what’s important.”

 [Y/N] merely just nodded, because she knew that the standards their father placed on both of them were vastly different. Caleb could afford some level of security in the notion of not being worried about what their father thinks, because he does not have to work so hard to make their father happy. 

 This was something the teenager always had to grapple with growing up. Eventually, coming to terms with since she was the youngest, her future compared to her older brother’s was uncertain, unclear, and too many factors were up in the air: where was she going to college? What would her major be? What would her future career be? What sort of family would she have? Who would she marry?

 Whereas Caleb had his future planned from the moment he was born: attend an ivy league for business then take over the family company, marry a family friend/one of the daughters of their father’s business associates or a family that would be useful to merge with and have a family. It was always clear and never questioned, even when they were kids. It took little effort on his part to make their father happy, because the expectations were clear as day and never took a moment of thought to figure out.

 It was her burden to bear, and never had the strength in her to expect anyone to understand the judging gaze always cast her way, as if waiting for her to mess up or make a mistake to remind her of her failures no matter how perfect she appeared to the public eye. To her own boyfriend, even.

 And part of her subconscious wished it would remain that way forever. But life has a funny way of working out in the end.

 Her parents at dinner the same night her and Caleb conferred, they brought up having this mystery boy their daughter had been seeing secret over for dinner so they could have a chance to finally meet. [Y/N] had little say in the matter and the Saturday before Homecoming was agreed upon.

 As soon as she returned to her bedroom for the night, [Y/N] knew she had to bring it up to Rodrick as soon as she could if they were to have any chance of staying together after that Saturday. The week they just about had was not going to be enough, but [Y/N] still felt she had to put the effort into trying to teach Rodrick at least table manners her parents would expect. But perhaps even that was pushing it.

:~+~:

“Your parents want to meet me?”

 “Well, they did say they want to meet you, but I don’t think it’s because they know it’s you, Rodrick.” 

 Perhaps on their near nightly phone call was not the ideal place to tell Rodrick about the dinner, but it was the first instance she could get it out without her anxiety getting the better of her about telling him in the first place. It saved her having to tell him in person and save herself from seeing how he reacted in real time. 

 “And dinner was the best place for that to happen?” Rodrick questioned after a brief moment of silence and a familiar squeak of some springs faintly resounded into the speaker on his end. He must have 

 “With my family, yes,” The blonde confirmed, “With all things considered, with the holidays too far away and Homecoming approaching sooner, and they specifically said they wanted to meet you before the dance, a dinner is the only way.” 

 “Okay…” Rodrick trailed off, going silent for a moment, “When is dinner anyway?”

 “Next Saturday,” [Y/N] replied, though quickly added before her boyfriend could speak, “We’re gonna have to have etiquette lessons, Rod, so I can teach you everything that you’re gonna need if you’re gonna make it through the night.”

 “What do you mean etiquette, babe?” 

 “Like how to sit at a table, which fork and spoon to use and when to use them, what you can and can’t say, that sort of stuff. The basics.” 

 “Do you think a week is enough time to teach me all that junk?”

 “Luckily for you, you have a great teacher and someone who has been taught this stuff her whole life, I think something will stick.”

 “Alright, whatever you say babe,”

 “I’ll even help you get ready,” [Y/N] promised, though had to amend it with, “I’ll try to, anyway, I'll at least come over to make sure you have an appropriate outfit because t-shirts won’t cut it.”

 There was a clear groan of annoyance on the other end of the line before the teenager spoke, “You know I hate wearing ties, [Y/N], and I’m already pushin’ wearing it for Homecoming and not to church.” 

 “I know, I know,” [Y/N] sighed as she brought a hand up to her face as she stood from her bed to start pacing her room, “But it’s just for one more night than normal, Rodrick, I promise.”

 “And what do I get in return, huh?”

 “A girlfriend?”

 “Okay, yeah, that’s a pretty solid deal.”

 “So lessons start tomorrow, okay?”

 “After the band practice,”

 “After the band practice then.” [Y/N] confirmed as she sat on her bed once more, “Good night, sweetheart.”

 “Night, babe.” 

:~+~:

Okay, so the lessons did not go great, but they went about as well as [Y/N] expected. Teaching Rodrick how to behave and act as closely to the way she and her brother had grown up being taught was like pulling teeth, and much like chemistry, it was looking like nothing was sticking. And if anything was sticking, it was gone by the next day and they had to start over.

Meaning, come that fateful Saturday, [Y/N] could only hope that her very quick rundown of the basics, the true basics of what Rodrick needed to know the night before when she went over the Heffley’s house the previous night to get possible outfit choices ready and wrinkle free knowing the state of his bedroom and how clothes could be just...existing on the floor and if it was a process for her to find clean t-shirts of his to steal, then she figured the dressier clothes he owned were living the same way.

“What’s troubling you, little bird?” Her mother asked her daughter, as she had noticed that [Y/N] had been a little distracted in chopping the vegetables up. Not only that, she had been on edge since had left her bedroom that morning.

 “I’m worried about dinner tonight, Mother,” [Y/N] answered, shaking her head a bit to refocus her attention on chopping the vegetables.

 “I’m sure your Father will be on his best behavior, there’s no reason to be worried.” Helena spoke softly, reassuring her daughter with the soothing tones and having set the spoon down beside the stove top to go over and gently brush [Y/N]’s hair back, “Everything will be fine, little bird.”

 As much as [Y/N] wanted to believe her mother was right, that things would be fine and everything would go smoothly,she also had to remind herself of her father’s constant attempts to control her life, and everything in her life. That included who she dates and there had been plenty of failed attempts in the past because of this meddling, and [Y/N], for once, just wanted to be free of the constant puppet strings attached to her that her father controlled. 

 “Father’s best behavior is turbulent, Mother, you know this,” [Y/N] pointed out with a sigh, “Rodrick isn’t exactly what Father believes to be best for me, and I’m afraid if Rodrick says one thing he doesn’t like, that's it, we’re through.” 

 “Your father’s opinion does not always matter, remember that his say is not final-”

 “It’s been final before.” [Y/N] interjected, “Remember he wouldn’t let me try out for the cheer team?”

 “He’s just looking out for what's best for you, that’s all.” 

 After that, the kitchen was silent save for the sounds of cooking, because once more [Y/N]’s anxiety took over and Helena simply did not know how to comfort her daughter anymore. It was easiest to just finish dinner and then go get ready for it, adn say nothing else on the matter for fear of making things worse.

 However, just as [Y/N] was finishing up getting ready when she heard the familiar sound of an engine rumbling up the driveway. And gazing out of one of her bedroom windows that overlooked the front of the house, she saw the familiar van park in front of the garage.

 So that is a good thing, Rodrick managed to remember to get there early as she insisted numerous times upon. Not that much earlier than the time she said dinner would start, but it was something, at least. 

 Next came the issue of watching Rodrick getting out of the van. While he did dress the part, the part was also distracting her that she kept her eyes trained on him before he disappeared under the roof that covered the front porch. It was indeed a rare instance for [Y/N] to see her boyfriend dressed up, considering she never exactly went with the Heffley family to church on Sundays. 

 So it was easy to understand as to why she had zoned out, nearly daydreaming and ogling over what she saw from a distance what her boyfriend was wearing. Though before she could fully dive into the daydream, the echoing sound of the ring of the doorbell echoed across the house and it was enough to snap [Y/N] out of her head and she was quick to stand from her vanity, hoping to make it to the front door before her parents or brother could open the door.

 However, her attempts were in vain because of the delay it took her to stand and began the mad dash to the front of the house and the size of the home itself, and by the time she had reached the top of the stairs, she saw her mother already at the front door and as [Y/N] made her descent down the staircase, she heard what was spoken.

 “Ah, so you must Rodrick,” Helena spoke, though [Y/N] could get a hint of confusion from the tone used, which [Y/N] assumed was because her mother had recognized Rodrick from the couple times she had seen him before when she first started to tutor the boy, but that was not brought up when Helen added, “Come in, come in.”

 “Uh, thank you, Mrs. Clemens.” [Y/N] heard Rodrick speak as she continued her descent down the staircase, smiling to herself because at least something else stuck: always use formalities, never call my parents by their actual names. 

 As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was met with a beat of silence and then Rodrick saying without much hesitation, “You look beautiful,” 

 A dust of pink appeared on her cheeks and she briefly looked towards her mother away from Rodrick, who looked between the teenagers before taking the steps towards the dining room, allowing the young couple a moment alone before the dinner began.

 “I have to admit, I know you hate getting all dressed up,” [Y/N] spoke as she neared Rodrick, reaching up to gently adjust the tie around his neck, “But I wouldn’t be opposed to you dressing up more often.”

 “There isn’t a chance of that happening, babe, you know that.” Rodrick pointed out, though a teasing smile graced his face, which [Y/N] mirrored.

 “A girl can dream, can’t she?” 

 Just as Rodrick was about to lean down to give [Y/N] a quick peck on the lips, he froze in his movements as he both heard a voice from down the hall echo around them and the fact he felt [Y/N] slightly tense up.

 “Ah, [Y/N], dinner is about to start, I expected you to be in the dining room already.”

 [Y/N] took a deep breath as she began to speak as she stepped to stand beside Rodrick instead, “Father, we were just heading there n-”

 “This must be the secret boyfriend, then, Rodrick, wasn’t it?” Charlie interrupted, which was something [Y/N] was used to by then, and held a hand out to Rodrick (another thing [Y/N] could see right through--the charm of a businessman), “Charles.”

 “Yeah, that’s me,” Rodrick said as he briefly glanced at his girlfriend to see what to do, before [Y/N] replied with a glance down to her father’s extended hand, which Rodrick took with a little too much fervor, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Clemens.”

 The energy behind Rodrick’s hand shake with her father was something that would not be much of an issue, but [Y/N] never had a how to shake a hand lesson herself, so it was overlooked when she was teaching her boyfriend what he would need to know. She was a girl, and the only thing she ever got on the subject matter was to be light and certain in the handshake, and that was all. So one look at her father’s face said all that she needed to know.

 It was already off to a bad start and they had not even sat down for dinner yet.

 Luckily her mother had called them into the dinning room before much more could already add to the poor outcome [Y/N] could start to sense coming already, no matter the words that echoed to counter the notion, hoping that things would look up from there forward.

 And for the first part of dinner, it was as her mind had hoped it would be, as everything went smoothly. Any questions her parents asked to Rodrick, it took a moment, but he was always to pull something out that also did not make him nor his family look bad. The looks shared between the Clemens siblings were a mix of relief and happiness as the dinner progressed, because the lessons and seemingly did in the end stick with Rodrick more than [Y/N] previously had suspected they did. 

 “So, what is it you want to do with your life after you finish up high school, Rodrick?”

 That was the question she was dreading, and one she was hoping for once her father would overlook and just accept that fact, move on that the future did not matter as much as the happiness of his children. 

 And the question must have also thrown Rodrick off for some reason, as he glanced once more at [Y/N] and in turn [Y/N] glanced at Caleb, a look of panic settling on her face.

 “I think the team has a good chance of winning the game next week.” Caleb brought up, “So Homecoming may be a celebration for that win, too.”

 “The football team has won every year the past several years, Caleb,” Charles pointed out, sighing as he set his fork down on the plate before him, “But that is not what we are talking about now, my boy.” 

 “The marching band is probably the best we’ve had in years, Father,” [Y/N] quickly added, clearly buying Rodrick enough time to try and find an answer to Charles’ question, “It’ll be worth going to the game for more than just the football team this year.”

 “[Y/N], I believed I asked Rodrick a question, so I would appreciate it if you would allow him to answer.” Charles said, his tone rising from calm coolness, to slight agitation as he took a deep breath to calm down once more, “Now, Rodrick, what do you want to do with your future?”

 “To be a musician.” 

 “Oh, a musician,” Helena tried to express some happiness in the discovery, “Are you in the school orchestra with [Y/N]?”

 “N-no, Mrs. Clemens,” Rodrick realized his mistake of bringing up the fact he wanted to be a musician, but at the same time, if he said he didn’t know, he was sure he and [Y/N] would be over then and there, “I’m in a band with some of my friends.”

 “What type of music do you play then?” Charles asked and [Y/N] and Caleb once more exchanged looks before [Y/N] looked to Rodrick once again. A look that said there was no point in lying about it now.

 “Heavy metal.”

 “Oh…” Charles began, glancing between [Y/N] and Rodrick, before his eyes landed once again on Rodrick, “That’s an interesting choice, have you not considered going to college or another career path?”

 “Charles,” Helena interjected, giving her husband a look from across the table, “Now is not the time.”

 “What?” Charles asked, clearly confused as to what his wife could mean, “What’s so wrong about getting to know the boy who my little princess is dating?”

 From there, Helena merely just shook her head and dinner continued in silence, The only sound was the clatter of utensils as they hit the plate. [Y/N] kept her gaze down at the plate in front of her, merely just pushing what food was left around on her plate. Though, at some point, under the table, she reached over to gently grab a hold of Rodrick’s hand. To which, Rodrick merely just briefly looked over to [Y/N] and the only thing he could really do in reaction to it, was to let go of the tension in his shoulders before attempting to finish the meal before him.

 As expected, her mother announced that she would go and get dessert not too long after, but it would be a few minutes to warm it up once again. So as [Y/N] stood to start clearing the table, her father also stood.

 “[Y/N], could I speak to you for a moment?” Was all he said before he started his way towards the office he had at home.

 [Y/N] knew what would come from this conversation, and she had to try to be strong this time. She knew that this conversation would be her dad trying to get [Y/N] to break things off with Rodrick--something she knew was going to happen as soon as her father brought up the question of what Rodrick wanted to do with the future. His dream was not to be anything her father expected the man [Y/N] to be with. And it was time for her to take her own life into her own hands after so long of being looked down upon and controlled by the plan her father had for her.

 “What is it you see in that boy, [Y/N]?” Charles questioned as soon as the door to the office was shut behind [Y/N].

 “I can assure you that Rodrick is someone with more than meets the eye, Father.” [Y/N] answered clearly as she rose to stand up a little straighter.

 “But you are aware that he is not ideal, don’t you?” Her father spoke as he folded his arms behind his back, taking the strides to stand in front of his daughter, “You should be with someone like Edward Vill or Chad Danford. Not someone who you met tutoring, and someone who believes his heavy metal band will take off.” 

 He waited a moment for [Y/N] to speak, but all she did instead was lower her head and folded her hands at her front, so Charles continued, “All you have to do is end things with Rodrick and your future already looks brighter, my princess.”

 “That’s your plan for my life, though,” [Y/N] pointed out, her tone quieter than she wanted it to come out, but she soon found her confidence once more as she added, “For once I want to do things my way, so with all due respect father, I don’t think I will break things off with Rodrick no matter what your standards are for me.”

 “The standards I hold for you are meant to ensure you have a future.” Charles began, using a variation of the same speech [Y/N] heard time and time again, “As you know, your brother will take over the company, so I just want to make sure your foundation is strong in whatever ways I can provide. You’re young, you know little of how the world works.”

 “Have you not realized that in trying to live up to your expectations, I’m putting my own happiness at stake?”

 “The real world knows nothing of individual happiness, [Y/N], success is the only thing that will cultivate any sense of the word.”

 “I’m doing my best as I am right now, and then some, trying to gain the success you wish from me,” [Y/N] finally lifted her gaze up, though the tears starting to well in her eyes as soon as she did, looking at the man she called father, but had not felt like one in years, “But even with all that I have accomplished and juggled since we moved, you still think I’m a failure, and nothing I ever do is right.”

 “There’s always more, you never have to stop working and aiming high.” Charles’s voice began to rise once again, “And being with that boy is going to prevent you from doing such.” 

 [Y/N] shook her head just as the tears started to fall from her eyes, “I’m done trying to be what you think I am, because I’ll never be good enough for you.”

 “Young lady, you listen-” Charles began, but [Y/N] was quick to interrupt for once.

 “No, I’m done listening and following whatever it is you say for me to do, I’m choosing my happiness for once, which means I am not breaking up with Rodrick just because you do not approve of him.”

 And while Charles attempted to persuade [Y/N] otherwise, he did try to get her to understand why he does what he does, but [Y/N] was not having it. And despite his efforts to also get her to stay, [Y/N] was quick to make her leave, knowing if she stayed any longer it would turn out uglier than it had already become. And they did not need that to happen.

 Instead, [Y/N] tried her best to compose herself, keep herself together, as she went back into the dining room to get Rodrick. She did not need her brother or her boyfriend doting on her immediately, and she had to stay strong as she left the family home because she could not afford any more signs of weakness. 

 Though the soft hand on Rodrick’s shoulder and her quiet yet slightly quivering voice as [Y/N] asked, “Can we leave now?” was all Rodrick needed to have to know things did not go well when she talked with her dad, but he didn’t know what was discussed. 

 “See you around, Caleb,” Rodrick said before he stood from the dining table and [Y/N] was quick to grab a hold of his hand to walk out of the house. 

 “Young lady, you stay in this house or you’ll be grounded for the rest of your life!” She heard her father call out as he was approaching the foyer, but Helena was quick to hold him back.

“Charles, let her go,” She tried to reason with her fuming husband, “You two need some space right now,”

 [Y/N] shot a quick apologetic look to her mother as she grabbed her purse hanging by the front door before opening the large wooden door and stepped outside.

 “Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Clemens, it was real good!” Rodrick felt like he needed to say something before he shut the door behind him, and that was what happened to come out. Perhaps it was nerves talking and not filtering his thoughts that were not filled with concern for his girlfriend. And when they cleared the steps of the front porch, the boy was quick to make the steps to walk side by side, gently squeezing [Y/N]’s hand as they got to the van.

 As soon as everything was unlocked, and both were in their respective spots, Rodrick turned the noisy van on, backed up, and began the drive down the long driveway and back onto the street. [Y/N], meanwhile, just leaned her head against the window, staring mindlessly out the side view mirror and watched as the house she had started to call home grew smaller and smaller as they moved away from it, and she could see two figures standing on the porch but soon as they turned the corner onto the street, they were out of sight. 

:~+~:

Rodrick did not know what [Y/N] wanted to do, and she had been silent since asking him to leave her house. So he assumed it best to play it safe and drive around town as she calmed down enough to tell him what she wanted to do, or at least, he felt like she could answer when asked what she wanted to do. He knew by then to not push [Y/N], let her do things at her own time, because of his experience during finals last year and how she got so stressed out she shut down for a few hours. 

 Though after an hour of driving, from the corner of his eye, Rodrick could see that [Y/N] made an effort to lift her head off of the window and that was the sign that she was calming down and he made the choice to ask a question.

 “Wanna hit up the convenience store since we bailed on dessert?”

 There was a moment of silence, then two, then three, before Rodrick heard the defeated voice of his girlfriend come from her mouth, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

 And with that guidance and direction on what to do next, Rodrick complied and drove to the nearest convenience store. 

 The next thirty minutes or so of the evening for the young couple were spent attempting to rid themselves of the pain and sorrow of the evening that had happened earlier. Trying to be young once more without any burdens or cares. And with this attempt to change how the night progressed, came the night chill and while Rodrick was fine, [Y/N] was not. Luckily, or unluckily, Rodrick had left one of his sweatshirts in the back of the van--which was the unlucky part, because it was found in the back of the van and who knows when it was last washed. But it was better than nothing, so [Y/N] accepted it and was grateful it at least smelled of him--the cologne he started to wear more frequently, that is. Once inside the shop, they moved through the snack and candy aisles with careful thought and consideration of what they wanted, with [Y/N] clinging onto Rodrick’s arm, her head resting upon his upper arm as they moved through the aisles and made their decisions of what felt appropriate for the evening--for Rodrick, a bag of chips and for [Y/N] a bag of sour gummy candy, as well as a bag of chocolate to share between them, and went to check out. 

 They chose to just sit and eat in the back of the van, still parked in the parking lot of the convenience store, as it was easier than finding somewhere else to go. They also sat in considerable silence once again, the only sounds this time were the bags crinkling and the sound of the crunch of the chip whenever Rodrick ate one, side by side as close as they could be and eat with ease at the same time. 

 “I’m tired of trying to be good enough,” [Y/N] suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that fell over them once she had decided she had finished with her candy for now. 

 Rodrick, who had been in the middle of eating a chip when [Y/N] decided to speak up, was grateful that he had something in his mouth as it allowed him the time to process what his girlfriend just said and figure out what he was going to say in return. In the meantime, he set aside his bag of chips and shifted enough to reach out and grab a hold of [Y/N]’s hand.

 “I’m tired of tryin’, too,” Was what he apparently settled with, having never exactly been good at the whole comforting thing, “So we can be tired of it together.”

 There was no verbal response from [Y/N], but she responded to this statement by gently rolling her head onto his shoulder, her other hand also came up to start playing with his fingers after setting the bag of candy down. So Rodrick took this that she was listening to what he was saying, but wasn’t sure in what way.

 “Buuuut, one of the smartest girls I know taught me once that having two negatives together ends up canceling out the other, so we can just be tired together, instead.”

 With this addition, a breathy laugh was heard in his ears and a proud little half smile appeared on his face as he heard her voice once again not being plagued by anxiety, but simply by sleepiness.

 “I don’t think you understood that full lesson, sweetheart, remember how you almost flopped that test because you didn’t?”

 With her statement being made, Rodrick’s smile grew into a full one before he tilted his head to place a gentle but loving kiss to the top of her head, before he murmured against her hair, “But I would have totally failed without you, babe.”

 “We can just be tired together, Rodrick,” [Y/N] confirmed after a moment of quiet enjoyment of the moment, “And deal with all the teenage bullshit together.”

“Wow, did you just swear, babe?” Rodrick said in joking disbelief as he leaned away to look at [Y/N] head on.

 “It’s been a long night, sweetheart.”

 “My place?”

 “I don’t think either of our parents would appreciate us sleeping in the back of your van, so yes, your place.”

:~+~:

“Where have you two been?” Was what they were greeted with as soon as they arrived at the Heffley family home, “We’ve been worried sick!”

 “Sorry, mom,” Rodrick began, stepping in front of [Y/N] as he added, “We just went on a drive and stopped to get snacks, that’s all.”

 “Your mother called, [Y/N], and she was worried when I said you weren’t here, but I’ll go call her to come get you, okay?”

 “N-no,” [Y/N] began, the stammer in her voice stopped Susan from going to the phone in the living room, and Frank just looked at her confused, “I, uh, don’t want to go back home tonight, can I please stay?”

 “What happened at the dinner that made you not want to go home?” Frank questioned.

 “Just some family stuff,” [Y/N] covered easily, though she took a step to stand closer to Rodrick as she continued, “...Didn’t leave on the best of terms.” 

 “Oh, then of course you can stay, and we can figure this all out tomorrow, but I am going to call your mom back and let her know you’re safe, okay?” Susan said with a gentle smile and [Y/N] reciprocated the smile with a quiet, thank you, before Mrs. Heffley added, “You can sleep on the couch, after I make the call I’ll go get you a blanket,”

 “Can she actually sleep in my room?” Rodrick brought up, his tone rushed, to which both his parents gave him a stern look but before his mom could even get the answer of no out, he added, “I don’t want her to be alone after what happened, is all.”

 Susan and Frank gave each other a look, before they looked at Rodrick and [Y/N], and they caught the young couple glancing at each other and they saw the softest expression on Rodrick’s face they have ever seen on their son and once more looked back at each other.

 “On an air mattress.” Frank said, pointing a finger at the both of them, to which the pair nodded before Mr. Heffley turned to go get the air mattress from the basement. 

:~+~:

So [Y/N] never ended up sleeping on the air mattress. 

 She started out there, trying to do right by Rodrick’s parents since they allowed her to sleep in their son’s bedroom, which she could not be in past 8:30 on a school night usually. But sleeping in some of Rodrick’s clothes and with him only feet away, she was crawling in right beside him not even five minutes in of trying to fall asleep.

 When she awoke the next morning, [Y/N] felt a weight on her chest, and not the emotional kind. No, it was almost the entire dead weight of her sound asleep boyfriend sleeping over top of her, his head resting on her shoulder, his wild bed hair tickling her neck. She did not move him off or attempt anything, instead choosing to bask in this moment they rarely got to have and enjoy a quiet Rodrick for once, a version of him totally at peace. Gently, she started to run her fingers along his back through the t-shirt he was wearing, before the fingers of her other hand started to gently card through his hair, which only settled the sleeping teenager deeper into her.

 When he settled a little deeper into rest, this was when she had a slight struggle with breathing, and [Y/N] knew that she had to do what was usually impossible: waking Rodrick up.

 But luckily for her, she knew a solid weak point that often got him up if he ended up falling asleep before one of their tutoring sessions: tickling his sides.

 The action did not shoot him straight awake, but it was enough to shock his brain into making him open his eyes, and groggily lift his head up. 

 At first, it was clear he was about to settle back into the sleep he just awoke from, but before his eyes fully shut, they opened once more as he processed he was not laying on his mattress, but instead his girlfriend and the sleepy grin that appeared as he lifted his head once more and gazed down at her with half-lidded eyes was a sight [Y/N] would never get used to no matter how much she saw it. 

 “Good mornin’ babe…” Rodrick mumbled as he began to lean down to give her a good morning kiss too, before he was promptly pushed away with a gentle hand.

 “Your morning breath is atrocious, sweetheart,” [Y/N] pointed out with a quiet laugh, “It could kill.”

 “C’mon, you know I would never kill you, babe.” Rodrick pouted, “Now c’mon and give me a good morning kiss.”

 Rodrick instead kissed all over her face as [Y/N] kept moving her head to avoid Rodrick meeting her lips, but their playfulness was cut short as they heard Susan’s voice from down the staircase calling up to them: 

 “Rodrick! [Y/N]! It’s time for breakfast!” 

 And fearing that Susan would come in to check on things, the pair moved--Rodrick faster than he ever had in the morning--to get [Y/N] into the air mattress. It was a bit of a scramble and [Y/N] nearly tripped getting off the twin bed, but she had slipped under the throw blanket on the air mattress just as Susan began her descent up the staircase, and the teenagers pretended to be asleep.

 Until they heard the sigh and Susan making her way back down the stairs, their eyes were shut but the moment she heard his mother’s voice away from the attic door, [Y/N] quietly slipped off the air mattress and made her way back to Rodrick’s bed, where she leaned down to give his a soft kiss on the lips.

 “We should probably go down stairs soon, sweetheart.”

 Rodrick opened his eyes at the feeling and smiled up at [Y/N], who smiled down at him in return. 

 “I hate it when you’re right, babe.”

 It was this moment they both realized something very important, very pivotal.

 They both loved the other, and it was a somewhat scary yet exciting thought.

[bloodycassian]

anon request - READER X AZRIEL - sorry if this wasn’t exactly what you want! I got a bit carried away in my own idea of Azriel being supportive but protective at the same time!

some hurt/comfort with Azriel where he and the reader get in a huge fight over protecting Elain (like they travel to a different court and Azriel is overprotective) and then the reader goes scouting to also cool down a bit and they get ambushed, the reader gets injured and the mating bond snaps. Hope it's not too much trouble!!

Elain was absurdly still as the conversation played out. Conversation being a loose term for the shouting happening around her. You didn’t leave her side though, even though your anger flourished while they spoke as if she wasnt there. Azriel was packing her things, shoving them haphazardly into a bag. The bag that Feyre had given her from their first trip down to the markets after Elain had started acting somewhat normal again. The happy memory seemed so distant now, compared to the anxiety ridden emotions that played about in the room.

“We are not going to the continent.” Az’s tone shift was abrupt, a snap of anger leaning into it. He tied the top of the bag closed and set it roughly atop the living room table. The scattered odds and ends of survival gear and weapons scraped against the wood. You watched the stare down between the high lord and his shadowsinger patiently. Waiting for your moment to speak rationally to them.

Rhys’ power roiled above, his eyes did not hide his frustration with his brother. His gaze was simmering with that dark power he possessed. Azriel did not back down. “The continent is the only place that may be safe. If the King finds out she’s a Seer he will never let her go. We can’t risk losing her as a hostage.”

You knew she would be a hostage too. Feyre would never let her sister be taken without a fight. Rhys knew his mate well enough to know not to risk just Elain, but Feyre too. Cauldron knew what Nesta would do if she were in that room during the conversation. Likely spitting fire and shoving Elain out the door to wherever she seemed to think was safe. Thankfully, both sisters were scouring deep in the library for any way to help win this battle.

Azriel did not break eyecontact with his brother as he made to speak again. You interrupted before he could make the situation worse. “I have somewhere in mind.” You spoke softly, urging the staring contest to end. Azriel looked away first, and you were surprised at that. His eyes met yours with something like relief. “Autumn. We have Eris on our side if we’re caught. I have a spot we can stay until-” Azriels scoff sent anger shooting through you. You clenched your teeth together to keep from lashing out at him as he had been doing just moments before. 

“Autumn is possibly the worst place we could send you right now. We’re on the brink of war with them potentially being on Hyberns side. We would be sending you straight to Hybern himself.” 

“Exactly. It’s stupid and they would never expect it.” 

“You’re not going. Beron exiled you. Don’t you remember what that means?” He looked at you with actual concern now that he knew you were serious. As if you had been injured and you were speaking a different language.

“It means we will be safe from Hybern when they come here to look for Elain. Isn’t that the point?” You wrapped an arm around her small shoulders and pulled her close. Az couldn’t argue with that. The other courts were not an option, as it would be harboring a target against one of the Night court Allies. And Winter court was nowhere to be spending the night. Not many survived the night there without shelter.

Rhys’ sigh was long and exhausted. Left without another option, he nodded to himself. He held out a hand and summoned two necklaces, both with pendants of black onyx that shimmered in the firelight. Az’s brows pinched together at the sight of them. The dull glow behind him shone through his wings, highlighting all the delicate structures there. You found his wings more beautiful than the enchanted stone Rhys handed you.

“Hybern won’t be able to sense your magic. Keep these on.” 

Azriel was already tensing, his fists balling at his sides ready to make it physical if Rhys refused to listen. He knew with his entire being that something was off. Something would go wrong this night. His shadows warned him of something. And he couldn’t shake it no matter how hard he tried. “Rhys-”

“And you will be going with them. Keep them company while Feyre and I investigate just how many ships and forces they plan to bring.” He ordered in that indisputable tone of the high lord. With only a hint of friendliness. He gave Az a long look before turning back to you and Elain. “Do not take those off.” The nodded to the necklaces and started to winnow. Elain stood abruptly, startling you. 

“Thank you.” She said softly to the high lord. He seemed taken aback for a second, before giving her a gracious nod and finally disappearing. You rose to Elain’s height and took her hand in yours. It was warm, welcoming. “We’re going to be fine.” You promised, not caring if Azriel saw the care you gave her. She had been there for you just as you needed to be now. She had practically kept you alive with her soft humming and reading to you when you were at your worst after being exiled. 

 “I know.” She said, voice soft as rose petals. But that dark power within her were the thorns of that pretty, perfect rose. The reason Hybern even knew to look in Velaris for Elain. That cauldron calling power that she couldn’t control to save her life. You grimly smiled at her.

“We need to leave.” Azriel ordered, tone neutral. Just a warrior needing to move troops.

“Let me get your bag.” Elain said, giving you a squeeze of her hand, disappearing up the stairs. Leaving you with the brooding Illyrian. You grimaced in his direction. He ignored you as best he could, hoping that the time for babysitting would pass quickly. He had always found it strange how you and Elain moved like magnets together. Found the soft way you comforted each other somehow upsetting. He paced quietly in front of the fire while you gathered your gear. Two small blades - one for Elain - and your sword. You rubbed at a speck on the hard steel of the sword. 

Perhaps his lack of family had made that rivaling jealousy turn into hatred for the display of affection. He contemplated to himself. Had he become cold to everyone? Too harsh? Had the darkness he possessed taken him over? He tore his eyes from your short sword and locked them with yours. The thrill he felt wasn’t from anger or terror. His cheeks flushed slightly and you fought the grin that you wanted so badly to flaunt at him. The innuendos regarding the sword that you wanted to say were cut off by that look he gave you.

“Do not get into a situation where you have to use that.” He warned with a stern look. You couldn’t help the angelic smile you gave him.

+

The smell of rotting apples and decaying leaves was all you needed to sense to know you were home. You took in the court border slowly, adjusting to your orientation after being winnowed. Elain clutched your hand tightly, the bag in her other hand quivered only slightly from her shaking. Your hands became slick with sweat at the familiar sights and smells of Autumn. You hadn’t been back since being exiled.

“We wont be able to have a fire.” Azriel stated, gazing towards the sky. It was far too clear of a day out to risk it. The slight chill in the air filled your stomach with dread for the night to come. 

“This way.” You pulled Elain along with you, leaves crunching under your feet as you entered Autumn court. She didn’t move. Her eyes were blank, staring lifelessly into the orange and yellow forest. “Elain?” You asked softly.

“Five foxes will die tonight. Three more in the morning.” 

Her words sent a chill down your spine.

Az took the lead, territoriality putting himself a few paces in front of you. He wasn’t subtle about it either, occasionally jogging ahead to scout for any enemies around piles of bramble when you came across it. 

By the time you found your hideout, you were fed up with waiting for him to give you the all clear everywhere you went. You let you go of Elains now calm hand and stormed into the small shack with familiarity. Azriel hissed and seethed when you lit a lantern inside. “Get over yourself, Shadowsinger.” You laughed, taking in the small piece of home you made for yourself long ago. 

It indeed was a long time ago when you’d last been there. But it still felt homey to you. The small space was just big enough for a stove, the table you’d found, and a bed pushed against the far wall. The fireplace hadn’t been used in years. Soot marked small animal prints along the light plank floors.

The dusty blankets on the makeshift bed were pocked with holes from mice and moths. The fireplace was nearly caved in on itself. The bramble covering that acted like a second roof was growing through the actual roof in some places. But it was still home. Your small exit from the world when things got too tough. Even after being exiled Beron hadn’t known about this place. He would have had it destroyed if he did know of it.

Elain pushed in passed Azriel. His shadows went wild. Searching every surface of the cabin. The long beams of the floor were hardly visible through the darkness he brought. 

+

You knew you should have brought more blankets. You held back the teeth chattering as best you could, letting Elain sleep. She would need all the rest she could get. You could tell she’d been tired after the days walk. She rested peacefully under the layers while the wind shuddered the leaves outside. You pulled your coat tighter to your body. 

“This was a stupid idea.” Azriel muttered from the corner. He didn’t seem cold, but the dark curls of shadow wrapped around him protectively. While you were left with nothing more than a coat. Your own magic couldn’t save you from the stormy wind, the necklace Rhys had given you also weakened your power enough that you couldn’t use it. Even in your homeland. It bothered you endlessly, feeling so useless in such a dire situation of needing to help Elain. 

“Then maybe you should just leave.” You barked back simply. He didn’t have to come in the first place if he was going to be so bothered. 

“I just mean-” He sighed, and sat on the creaky old table that took up half the small kitchenette. “We could have done this better. We could have planned… Differently.” 

“We didnt have the time. We’re here now, so we just need to deal-”

“I know that. I’m just bothered that you’re so recklessly looking for danger everywhere we go.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’m from here Azriel. I know what areas are dangerous.” 

“Maybe once.” His eyes were not angry when he said it. They were full of pity and doubt. Your rage spilled over, and you were ready to shout. Ready to scream at him about what a piggish idiot Illrian he was being. But Elain turned over, sighing softly to herself. 

So instead, you clamped down on that burning anger and walked out. And of course he decided to try to follow you. He made it a few steps outside the cabin before you turned on him, ready to roar. “Be safe at least.” He tossed his red jeweled dagger to you. Your heart squeezed, choking you up slightly. You brushed it away as best you could before he could see. You couldn’t yell at him. 

So you took the dagger and walked briskly away, into the brush of autumn forests. Laced with the smell of heavy fruits and warm trees. Leaves fluttering in your wake as the wind tossed with ease. 

You held his knife close at your side the entire aimless walk. Then, the sound of twigs snapping and males laughing heartily made you pause. 

Far to your east was a dull glow beyond a knoll. You backed away slowly. Trying to be as soundless as possible in case they could scent you. The breeze whipped at your skin, blowing in their direction. The trees above you shuddered sharply, and you swore as a heavy weight fell upon your shoulders.

+

Azriel paced in the kitchenette, his shadows swirling around him relentlessly, waiting for a target. It felt wrong letting you go. It felt like letting his hope sink. His shadows even seemed upset about it, as they now whipped around him angrily. 

He swore he was going to run a rut through the plank floor. He sighed, glanced to Elain’s sleeping figure and forced himself to sit. You had the dagger. You were capable. You knew the area and knew what you were doing. He tried his best to soothe himself. It didn’t help much.

The old chair creaked under his weight, and he smiled. For someone who claimed they couldn’t work around the house, you were quite the crafter making such a nice hideaway for yourself. He finally took a moment to pause, and actually look at the cabin.

The stove may have been older than he was. The missing burners on top were replaced with a few forks placed carefully around them. The ancient shelves were dusty, along with all the jars and cups atop them. Cobwebs spotted the entire house, but his shadows had gotten rid of most of them after the first one clung to his face upon walking in. 

Then he came to the table he sat at, the four unmatching chairs circling it. The table itself was solid oak, he could tell that much. But he wondered how you’d gotten it inside at all. Out of curiosity, he pulled on it. It didn’t budge. His eyebrows knitted together, and he stood slowly. The curiosity consumed him. He gave the table another tug. Still, no movement.  

He crouched down, and noticed the planks around the single leg of the table had been cut out. Then he noticed the intricate roots weaving their way up the trunk. The table wasn’t just a table. It was an entire tree - or what was a tree once… And you’d built the entire cabin around it. His awe was quickly quieted by Elain.

“A part of you is missing. The foxes will die.” She muttered sleepily, her eyes blank. And he lay back down as if it hadn’t happened. “Elain?” Azriel called. Dread, cold and stinging coarse through him. “Elain?” He asked quietly, approaching her side. She flung the covers from her lithe body. Azriel jumped back, holding his hands up defensively. “It’s okay, its me.” He calmed her, noting the wild look in her expression. 

“Find yourself.” She breathed, her eyes going wide with concern. Azriel’s heart sped, and he felt like he’d been dunked in a cold ocean of dread. Terror drug him under the deep waves and threatened to drown him the first chance it got. He took Elains hand and started walking the direction you’d left. 

Leaving behind the supplies and the living table that you’d created.

+

A glance at the oversized uniforms told you all you needed to know. The fox sigil pinned to their tunics proved that the uniforms were stolen from Autumn soldiers. Your blood boiled. Elain had been right. But they would die. Five of them, at least. But you had only glimpsed at three so far. You tugged at the ropes that bound you. Firm, and not able to be broken.

Their campsite was large, and full of small boxes of different fruits. Several different types of weapons leaned against their low lying tents. And with how many scars their fae leader had, you knew the rest of their story in an instant. Bandits. Filthy trade merchants that lived for thievery and making a quick gold mark.

And you’d be worth their weight in gold once they turned you in to Beron.

“We’ve got a live one!” The male shouted to his comrades. They cheered drunkenly, their voices carried far by the wind. Their fire sparked and popped against the blue night sky. And you knew that your death may not come in glory of battle, or in the name of your home. But in being stupid enough to be caught by bandits. You could have died that instant if it would mean you didn’t have to feel that kind of shame.

The male cut the opal from your neck, and you felt your magic explode from you. Your thoughts were racing, searching. Finding something cold and dark in the depths of your mind and tugging on it. Then, it was a live beast beneath your mental hands. It coiled and rose, ready to strike. 

The same one cut a long line down your cheek with the blade that had just cut your only protection against Hybern from you. You prayed to the mother that Hybern was too busy to notice a small blip of magic from an Autumn fae like you. You hissed in pain as the blade stung its way down to your neck, stopping at your collarbone. 

You pulled on that coiling beast that called to you. Beckoned it to find you, to help you from this pain. Maybe you were begging for death, or at least unconsciousness so you wouldnt have to feel the pain anymore. The male stood back to let another scaled lower fae get a look at you. His tongue lashed out over your bloodied neck. He hummed in approval, letting his forked wetness slither across your wounds.

You felt them seal and itch with every pass as he took your blood. “Good.” the one with the blade ordered, then… to your dread, he pulled a glowing rod from the fire. They would brand you. Then take you to the high lord. Only after they’d humiliated you though. The males clucked at your involuntary reaction. They huddled close around, waiting for the screaming to start. Their excitement coated the air with a tangy adrenaline filled scent. 

You reared away from the burning metal as best as you could. The ropes around you seemed weaker now that you had your weak magic back, but still too constricting to do much with. 

You closed your eyes as the glow approached your chest. It warmed your face with the heat. They were going slow on purpose. Wanting to savor your reaction. It made your stomach go queasy. You hoped you would pass out. Better yet, just die of the agony. That way Beron wouldn’t have the satisfaction of killing you himself. 

There was a thump, and sizzling. You cracked open your eyes, waiting that searing pain to hit you. But it didnt. The males stood back, bewildered. Across the camp in the dull glow of the fire as the one that had been lowering the branding stick to you. It was speared through his chest, pinning him to a tree. His mouth gasped, eyes wide and glowing a haunting orange from the fire. You would never forget the sight of it. The smoldering that came from the tree behind him as the hot iron burned into it. The wet sounds of his mouth opening and closing. 

Then, the gasp and thump each male that Azriel incapacitated before you. Elain stood at the edge of the trees, her eyes still puffy from sleep. Azriel kept the kills quiet and concise. None resembled the one pinned to the tree, now sagging under the weight of death. No, the rest of them had easy deaths at the hands of one skilled at dealing killing blows. The wet splatter of blood leaving a body pulled you back to the scene in front of you. Az’s scowl as he cleaned his blade was that of a warrior who had seen much worse. Done much worse. 

“I told you not to fucking-” He snarled, his hands on the rope at your wrists. He stopped though, and stared. The shadowed light of his eyes seemed to be blooming with awe. You couldn’t look away. The beauty in the deep irises, the way small freckles played about his dark skin. All new and exciting things you’d never noticed before. His scent alone was like a punch to the gut. 

Him. Azriel. It had been him to find you. Him to respond to that silent plea that you so badly needed to be heard. He was that coiling darkness that had saved you. Your breath was a gasp, and you nearly fell to your knees before him. 

+

His hands didn’t work anymore. The world stopped turning all together. His heart was no longer his own and his soul belonged wherever you were. It didn’t matter that you were in the middle of a foreign court’s borders. It didn’t matter that Elain trembled in the corner of the clearing. He was yours, and you were his. 

He vowed it, for eternity that was how it would stay. He’d never leave your side again. Never choose to be without you for as long as he may be alive. His very being was now shared. With you. His soul intertwined your yours, wrapping delicately around your earthy light that contrasted his darkness so perfectly. If you were the sun he was the moon, always chasing, always following and living in your light. 

The words weren’t needed but he managed to utter them. Around a shuddering breath and a shattering explosion of love he managed it. “My mate.”