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stargirlrchive · 1 year

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late night talking ✩ jake sully

masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: soon to be dad!jake sully x female!reader, talks of pregnancy and discomfort but its so minimal, literally pure fluff babes i need to carry his babies fr

word count: 718 - short and sweet

syulang (n) - flower

comments: i hate this title w/ a passion, i feel like the vibe does not match? but whtvr, we are pushing through! <3 anyways i was in a silly goofy mood when i wrote this, like yall are gonna see what i mean lol but this can be like a prequel to this other jake fic but can also just be a standalone, kk bye! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Jake woke to the sound of your discomfort, feeling you move around in his arms as you tried to find a comfortable position. The task was proving to be impossible. You let out a long sigh, realizing there was no way you were going to be lulled to sleep again.

“What’s wrong, Syulang?”

Your eyes flew to your mates, unaware you had woken him up, “Nothing, he is just kicking so much tonight.”

Jake's hand instantly went out to sooth your belly, the bump growing beautifully everyday. He began to rub small shapes into your skin, hoping to calm his child down and ease your discomfort.

He whispered quietly to you, as if it was his biggest secret, “I wish we were Seahorses.”

Your mouth dropped in shock, that was not at all what you thought was going to leave your mates mouth. The confusion clear in your eyes, “What for?”

“Well I don’t know how true it is, but once on earth I read that male Seahorses carry the babies. I would do that for you.”

You wanted to laugh, it was fighting its way up your throat, but Jake was looking at you so seriously that you could not dare poke fun at him. His hands had made their way to your back, soothing the knots that had begun to form. “You would not last a day, JakeSully.”

You pressed a kiss to the widest part of his nose, “Besides, I should get used to it. I want more.”

“Is that so?”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands trying to massage any area of exposed skin he could find, your body relaxing into his with each swipe of his hand. “Mhm, I want three more after. He needs siblings.”

Your hand rubbed gently along your own stomach, feeling a small thump from within. “Two girls and two boys.”

“Now wouldn't that be perfect.”

He was teasing you, trying not to smile as you shuffled closer to his body. Neither of you spoke for a while, your eyes were beginning to feel heavy, begging to sleep. “You keep referring to the baby as a boy?”

You nodded absentmindedly, practically melting under his fingers. “Because he is, I can feel it.”

Jake's nose scrunched up, “Has Eywa given you a sign?”

He was teasing you again, pure amusement dancing in his eyes as you looked up at him. His hand had fallen back to your stomach, fingers treading over you with a featherlight touch. “She has actually.” You huffed in his direction, noticing his eyes dilated at the new information. “Tell me Syulang.” He was pleading, softly tapping against your belly.

Jake had already adored you beyond belief, swore the sun rose when you smiled, but when he learned you were carrying his child, he practically worshiped the floor you walked on. “Please.”

You decided to end his suffering, laying your hand above his so they both rested on your stomach. “Well-this was only a few days ago, Ma’Jake, but I had gone to the Tree of Souls, I wanted to see my mother.”

Your shoulders caved in a little, pressing yourself impossibly closer to Jake, “There were so many ancestors trying to speak to me that day, but I could not make anything out. There were too many of them.”

Your face pinched together as you recalled the events, “Then, out of nowhere I heard something so clear, only one word. It was a name.”

You nervously played with the beads that fell on Jake’s braid, “What was it, Syulang?.”

“Neteyam.”

Jake blinked rapidly, ears twitching gently. It was perfect. “Do you like it?”

He nodded, unable to form words, suddenly struck with an overwhelming amount of adoration for you. He had to blink back the happy tears that threatened to leak from his eyes.

Silence fell between the both of you, Jake’s hands only stopped moving when he heard your breath even out. “Neteyam.”

He liked the way the name rolled off his tongue, he felt a soft thud from your stomach. Letting him know his son liked it too. His eyes instantly jumped to your face, wanting to make sure you had not woken up.

You remained peacefully sleeping, not even waking as Jake shifted to lay his arm under your head.

#jake sully x reader #jake sully #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #loak sully #kiri sully #avatar #atwow #atwow x reader #neytiri #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar 1 #avatar 2 #Jake Sully fluff #Jake Sully angst

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yaut-jaknowit · 1 year

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OKAY OKAY, HEAR ME OUT- MxM where the reader has an unhealthy drinking habit, but alcohol also makes him horny asf😩😩 (fr exposing myself at this point) the most random ideas pop into my head fr💀🙏

Drunk On You

Pairings: Mai'tuiudh (Male Yautja) x Male Reader

Warnings: suggestive themes, talks of genitalia, drinking problem, alcohol

Word Count: 931

Summary: Mai leaves you to your own devices on his ship as goes for a hunt. Left alone. Unsupervised. It's not a good thing to do with you and your problem. You find your mate's stash of Yautja beer and pour yourself a cup. The memories blur from there.

Author Note: I love this idea. Good ol' drunk reader with their mate. What could possibly go right? Everything for the two of them. Don't worry about exposure, I do that every time post one of these. Keep throwing them at me!

Masterlist

Ao3

One thing you loved about being by your lonesome when Mai was out hunting was being unsupervised. The Yautja trusted you with heart and soul. So what was his was yours and what was yours was his. That meant… alcohol. Specifically, Yautja alcohol. C’ntlip. Powerful for ooman but an average beer for Mai’tuiudh.

The thing about C’ntlip is that was almost impossible to put down for you. It might be that for any other alcoholic drink, but this is what you had at moment.

Yellow liquor poured to fill up a large cup. You hid away the bottle it came from back where it was hidden and roamed into the ship’s control room. It was empty for the time being without Mai being here. Plus, you can see when he returns and hide away the drink. You didn’t need him to know about you taking a few sips of C’ntlip.

As you sat perched on his pilots chair, knees to your chest, you played a game he was able to download on the screen. You giggled as your character fell off the edge, making a hilarious scream. It was fake but funny never the less.

Nothing hit the back of your throat when you threw back your cup. Empty, shit. Ugh. Fuck, that means you’ll have to get up for more. Yeah. Walk to the small kitchenette he has. Can do. If legs work. They feel dead. Maybe they were. Yeah.

One leg is able to touch the ground as the other is still stuck in its place. You groaned, forced to use a hand to grasp it and dislodge it. Good work self. Hm, huh. Can do.

Now to walk for more good drink. You’re able to push yourself into a standing position yet you leaned heavily on the massive chair that easily swallowed your frame. Mai did that too in bed. Oh no. That wasn’t very smart to think about. He was so big though. Those hands of his. They easily covered a good portion of your skin. Then his body. And, his thick cock.

Your cheeks weren’t only heated and red from the alcohol running through your veins. It’s Mai’s fault anyhow. He’s far too hot. Especially for an alien. He didn’t have lips, but he made it up with tongue. That long, powerful tongue of his.

Bowed over the arm of Mai’s chair on your elbows, you let a hand skirt down to touch your hardening erection. Whisps of pleasure spiked throughout your body. It was a different feeling, one you’ve never felt before.

But your drink. More drink means more of this feeling. Yeah, that encourages you to at least pause, lift your head to look towards the door. Hm, yeah. More good drink.

With unsteady legs, you lifted off of the chair and started to stumble towards the door. Thoughts of Mai still on your mind as past memories circled inside. The things he’s done to you, cared for you, loved on you. It’s making you hot and bothered for him all over again, cock jumping in your pants. You couldn’t help your hand going back to its previous spot and rubbing at it. Hm, that feels good. So good.

If only Mai was here. What would he do to you in this state? Good things, you knew this. He always takes care you. You were his after all. His little ooman to care for and love on.

Fuck, but you wished he was here right now. Maybe he’ll tease you. Using your sensitive state to play with your nipples and let his claws dance across your skin. Goose bumps following close behind. You whined into the silence of the ship as you reached the door.

It slid back. Mai’tuiudh stood there in all of his glory. Chest slightly heaving as little blood coated his hide. The biomask was attached at his hip, letting you see how his tongue darted out and eyes narrowing on you.

Stunning and powerful. He was delicious to look at like this. How could you not love the way he looked? The strength he held within his hands as he started to stalk up to.

The need for another drink dissipated at the sight of him. No, you were thirsty for something else now. And he knew this. “You’ve gotten into my drinks, mate.” It wasn’t a question. The two of you knew it was a statement.

You stumble up to him, tripping over your feet. Right before you were going to face plant into his sweaty chest, a hand wrapped around your throat kept you upright. What leftover logical thoughts were left in your went out the fucking window, especially when he squeezed the perfect amount. Now, you were only thinking with your dick.

Mai leaned down, tongue darting to taste the skin on cheek. Heavy of alcohol. “Drunk, I am. Love you mate, much,” you confessed. When Mai kept quiet though, reading through the clouds in your eyes, you pouted. He wasn’t pay attention or doing any more. “Fuck me, Mai.”

A snort escaped the Yautja. You smelled heavy of arousal. It was almost enough to make him laugh but the need deep in your eyes stopped him. You wanted relief and called to him for it. What’s he to deny that from you? He would be a horrible mate if he did that.

With the same on hand on your throat, he tugged you close. “Be good for me mate,” he rumbled and tightened his hold. The hangover in the morning will be more than worth it.

#yautja #yautja x #yautja x reader #yautja x human #yautja x you #predator #alien vs predator #predator x reader #predator x human #predator x you #Mai'tuiudh #male predator #male yautja #male reader #yautja x male reader #suggestive

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spicler-man · 2 years

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platonic peter & tony soulmates (not st//rker ya nasties)

masterlist here The Window To The Soul by TheSacredFandomTexts

Soulmarks were a funny thing. For one, being born with a romantic red mark or platonic blue mark always made for interesting baby showers. Some soulmarks would show up in the middle of kindergarten, when a child’s soulmate was born. Sometimes someone would be walking around with one soulmark, when a second would appear just underneath it. And it was always hilarious when someone’s soulmark said, “Who the fuck are you?” instead of a simple, “Hello”.

But soulmarks could also be a wonderfully terrible thing. For some, it meant the hope that there was someone out there, almost tailored specifically for you. For others it was a curse, always looking for someone you may never find until the last second. Those with red marks would put dating on a permanent hold until they found them, because what was the point if they knew nothing would come of it? Those with blue often never married, knowing there was no one they would love more than their best friend, never realizing their heart was capable of loving more than one person. But there was one thing for certain, anyone with a blue or red mark would tell you they were happy to be spared from the burned and blackened mark.

The mark of a lost soulmate.

For All The World To See by TheSacredFandomTexts

Peter is adjusting to being in the media spotlight. With the kids at school constantly debating whether Peter is Tony’s illegitimate son or a con man hell-bent on stealing the Stark fortune, the only reprieve he gets, once again, is as Spider-Man.

But when someone from Tony’s past decides this is the perfect opportunity for revenge, Spider-Man might not be a secret for much longer.

Sequel to Window To The Soul, I highly recommend reading that one first.

Born To Cherish by ironfamjam

Everyone has two soul-mates whose thoughts are written on your hands. Your platonic soul mate on your right. Your romantic soul mate on your left.

But Tony's always known he's impossible to love.

He only gets one.

Until Peter.

Irondad Bingo Prompt: Soul-Mate AU

did you see the flares in the sky? by justt_ppeachy

‘hi’

One simple word was displayed proudly on the inside of his right wrist. Tony wasn’t sure when this word showed up or how long it had been there.

A line formed underneath the word and Tony could almost feel the pressure on his arm from the marker his soulmate was using to push one phrase from their skin into his.

‘i loev yu’

The letters were written slowly and messily as they showed up upon his wrist while he watched in disbelief. Not sure if he was hallucinating or just going insane, Tony rubbed at the writing, wondering if they would disappear once he looked again.

The words were barely recognizable, but they were still the best thing Tony had ever seen.

(Or a irondad soulmates au based on a post I saw on tumblr)

the fire's out but still it burns by justt_ppeachy

Ben tightens his grip on the boy before looking up at Tony, almost begging him to soothe his crying nephew.

Tony nods to Ben and walks over to his soulmate crying into his uncle's shoulder. “Pete.”

Peter's head rolls over his uncle's shoulder before meeting Tony’s eyes. He wiggles slightly, willing Ben to put him down. As he lowers him to the ground, Ben watches Peter throw himself at Tony before his feet even touch the floor, wrapping his arms around his lower waist.

“Petey,” Tony said, placing a hand on the boy back. “I’m okay, everything is fine.”

Peter didn’t let go of Tony, instead holding on tighter, scared that if he let go then the man would disappear. A sob came out of the boy's mouth as he buried his face into Tony’s stomach.

(Or the battle of new york with irondad soulmates)

sharing the pain (makes it easier to handle) by snarkymuch for Dragonbano

Peter grew up with a soulmate, knowing them from the start. Tony did not. They each live their lives, never crossing paths until the day they do. Soulmates share pain and sensation and sometimes dreams, so when Tony had a hole carved in his chest to make room for a magnet, a little boy in Queens cried out. This is their story, and the story of them finding each other and becoming family.

Beating Hearts by Dawg1515

Peter had had these tattoos as long as he could remember. They never faded when rubbed up against countless socks or under the showerhead.

They never faded the days he used to come home wanting to tear them off; on a few rare occasions, trying to.

They were a single reminder of someone out there- a companion, a friend, a someone- made for Peter and for Peter only.

Or: Tony and Peter heal and grow together after the final battle.

teleportation by impravidus

For some reason, Tony Stark is stuck with a baby that seems to teleport to him at seemingly random times.

He's definitely not warming up to this spit gurgling, chubby cheeked cesspool of germs.

He's not.

all the wonders I have seen (I will see a second time) by hollow_dweller

Tony gets his soulmark when he is 31. He does not take it well. As usual, it’s Pepper who has to deal with the aftermath.

In a world where one’s soulbond can be romantic, platonic, anything in between, or nothing at all, Tony Stark wants nothing to do with a soulmate who isn’t even born until he’s well into adulthood. He sends his personal assistant to deal with it, planning on giving the parents enough money to keep them quiet about their infant having been born with “Anthony Edward Stark” on his wrist- so long as they sign the NDA he’s sending, as well. Pepper goes, reluctant.

From there, things don’t go quite the way she planned.

Everything, All At Once by ironfamjam

Everyone has a soul-mate and when you fall asleep, you get to meet in your dreams. But there's a catch.

When you wake up, you can't remember a single thing.

Tony and Peter find each other again and again in a world made of dreams and memories and it doesn't matter that Tony loves him more than he's ever loved anything at all. No matter how hard he tries, when it truly matters, he doesn't know Peter exists at all.

Nice to Be You by opal_earrings

"Heart fluttering, Peter padded over to the sink with his gaze fixed on the floor. After a moment of psyching himself up, he looked up at the mirror.

And froze.

What the—what the—there was no way—

Tony Stark’s face stared back at him, eyes widened in shock."

Soulmate au where, on the day you turn fifteen, you wake up in your soulmate’s body for the day. Tomorrow is Peter’s birthday, and he is not prepared for the face he is going to wake up to.

These Words Written On My Wrist by KatinaMoon

In a world where you're entrusted with your soulmates private thoughts on your wrist at all times, Tony is heartbroken to find his own wrist empty.

He is markless. A man with no soulmate.

With a hardened heart, he attempts to reconcile his life the best way he can.

Until the night he doesn't have to. Until the night he discovers he does have a soulmate.

Comfort in My Shadow by Milstrim for IronMum

Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter's not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he'd always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn't want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

I’ve Got You, Kid by for_the_night for SuperHeroTiger

Tony never gave much thought into what it would be like losing a soulmate. The thought alone was too painful but now he stared down at his pale, shaking hands, completely numb. He'd lost the one person he'd sworn to protect.

Spider-Man was dead. His kid.

His soulmate.

#spider-man #irondad and spiderson #spider-man fics #peter parker #peter parker fics #tony stark #iron man #irondad fics #irondad #tony stark fics #platonic soulmates

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thesecretattic · 10 months

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Another Bizarre Incident + something about Aditya at the end

I have no other option than dying thanks to his/their unwantedness, he himself had come go through the signs I’ll die while saying this that since he was also interested and we shared those signs till the very end I deserved a chance instead of getting rejected that too unequivocally due to superficial reasons. I have lost 8+ years of my life from 2015 bed ridden all alone abused at home crying and then his torture. I still remember frantically texting him my link (in 2018-19) again signs and coincidences I was scared that he’ll react in a very bad manner pls read my post which says how it has impacted my health and mind and BRAIN (physically) and he did he reacted in such a hostile dismissive way that I almost fainted my mother on the other end was torturing me to death, this is what my life was all about pls read everything from at least Jan-Mar 2023. I wanted to get hypnotherapy done to forget everything related to him after finishing my book and getting married to someone else but there was NO ONE he was my soulmate rest maximum are taken in today’s times i had told you it’s EASY for others NOT for me, he has made it impossible THEY ALL SEEM to share the same reason as him, I’m treated like an untouchable in India when one does something the rest COPY NO ONE WANTS TO EVEN TALK that is exactly what is going on and I feel like I’m already dead as if ppl can’t hear me, enough of innuendos I’m too sick I kept crying again

It occurred to me today that whoever was with him like his ex and all those who were close to him who were in his life, were very lucky they were the luckiest ppl on this planet. I wish I would’ve been exactly what he wanted, I can’t type much I’m coughing due to low pressure I am too ill that impacted tooth has given me an infection in my chest and all my head nerves have sensitised they are too tender and painful to touch. I wanted to share this incident - I was 15 and I was at the service centre to repair my 15 inch MacBook 💻 That area had a church and a cemetery right opposite that and lot of odd incidents have happened there with me and even my mother, she’s also a witness, there was a man who came out of nowhere and he was following me my mom and my brother when we were kids, he kept going everywhere we went, we crossed the signal to get rid of him my mother’s idea but he too crossed behind us and he kept crossing signals JUST LIKE US it was dusk after Magrib the cemetery was right there so I think it was a lost soul or it could be just some random old person with dementia, nonetheless I’ll share the other incident which is very weird, the weather is scary btw it’s like doom’s day is approaching and I’m too scared cuz I’m very ill so I get dreams where I see horrible explosions in the sky and the worst kind of thundering possible due to climate change threat, anyway we were at the service station (I was 15) my chest is quivering at the slightest sound while I’m writing this due to that infection and all the stress I had told u I will die I won’t be able to handle it. My book could’ve explained this incident but I’m dying with all the secrets, I had thought someone would ask me what the story was about but people are so boring, I was adding them for that contract marriage (I don’t think even platonic is possible for me so house mates one) and I thought if they’ll like the story and we’ll become acquainted with each other then we can try having that contract marriage (+ hypnotherapy) at times I feel like I want a normal relationship but my bf age is gone I was always that “type” and it’s too late, I really wish I would’ve been whatever he wanted, and now I don’t this anyone wud accept me, I feel like sharing a normal life with someone with complete “acceptance” for everything he rejected that’s the only way I’ll get my confidence back and realise that I wasn’t that unacceptable. He never wanted me, I was okay with the dark ugly pics (had to mention I realised he doesn’t actually look like that so u don’t have to assume he’s like those old photos the camera might be such) but I was okay with that and even when his fingers were looking dark again due to low res. camera and lights, inspite of the ring I was okay with that too and I cried so much I just never want to face him in real life I had stopped going to Malad in 2016 itself due to all that hate (repulsion) then I stopped going out and I haven’t left my room since 2017, I wish someone would’ve gotten me out of this exile, I never cared about the eyes and all I really don’t I never wanted this handsome or rose I wouldn’t have maintained a distance from fair and rich guys, I wanted to hold his hands in my thoughts as usual when I felt like I was dying or I couldn’t make it but now I can’t after the ring (pls read that story also it’s in my previous post) the devil killed one of the characters IN REAL LIFE I had Aditya singh’s screenshot in my hidden album it doesn’t have the death date cuz

he was alive back then, I had taken that cuz I had recently come across his profile I had not stalked though it was from Google that too because of the Singh Rajput surname from that show Pishachini I was making peace with the fact that it’s not Jayesh Rajput and that such surnames are common. Cuz I was insecure my name had come up with Harsh’s last name as Zara Rajput and there were several ZH even with heart (I have SHARED ALL EVIDENCE AND SCREENSHOTS in my previous posts) our initials and numbers (marriage related kept coming up) and now when I see that Aditya’s screenshot I feel horrible cuz it doesn’t have a death date, his SS was amongst all the hidden pics which have Jiya and Harsh etc. That too not many it’s all just evidence but not related to signs, just some of my rivals I don’t deem them as rivals he made them that but it just has their ugly shots (even other girls hehe) and a few other things which I clarified for my assurance. But his SS was amongst all this and he was a part of the story back then I didn’t even know he was his friend and one of the characters is dead now. At this point we should’ve been Serious, there’s a reason why he was killed read my prev post. It was for the ring which took away his hand from me. I can’t even hold it in my thoughts while dying my own hand is cold n numb n paralysed rn can’t type autocorrect mode I was okay even if those hands would’ve been actually dark like the pics I was okay I loved him so much I did feel like maybe someone should’ve accepted me in the same manner my hands are lighter (so are his or else he’ll blame me for lying it was just the camera) but the bottom line is I was okay even if it would’ve been real. I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else’s hands I was okay with them cuz they were HIS. I just wanted “Harsh” I have 0 confidence I feel like my story (if you’ve read that Anu Gupta part) doesn’t matter like I have no right to voice it or narrate it, I feel like I don’t have enough respect or ppl don’t want to hear from me they don’t want to know they are all dismissive like him, they don’t value me and I’m not going to quote unrealistic soliloquies such as “If they don’t value you find new ppl” WHERE ARE NEW PEOPLE? I’m talking about ALL PEOPLE. I’m getting wheezing had to share that “teaser” before dying tonight, I just wanted ppl to realise that someone like me also will have something worthwhile to say and we should be given a chance I don’t know what separates me from you, and makes me an untouchable unspeakable online too, no one LITERALLY NO ONE wants to associate or talk either they have too many ppl in their lives or they are just busy copying him, he was my soulmate but he DIDNOT want me so I was waiting for someone else and my posts do reach out ppl notice I even send friend requests to find someone but none of them want a “reject”. I have to die I can’t even heal from his rejection he meant everything to me, like I said all those who were with him were the LUCKIEST of all, I can’t do my hypnotherapy to forget that or move on with someone else (WHY SHUD I BE ALONE ALL OF YOU GUYS GAVE A SIGNIFICANT OTHER, it’s NOT my age to stay with my parents ppl get married and shift into their dreams homes I’ve seen several especially during Cov BUT my life has only gotten worse) it’s NOT normal their behaviour is not normal

If you are that conservative and you only want someone from ur HINDU religion then mention it on dating apps even that Taher who met me married some Gujju girl so Muslim guys don’t want us Hindu guys don’t want us or they only want money my OWN SOULMATE doesn’t want me, go thru the signs in prev hood posts, so what do they want? Its not about contract marriage someone should’ve actually made up for all those 10 years and accepted me the way I accepted him, inspite of his monetary status or lack of “popularity” (social status) complexion which was there in the pics or even looks (height and all even the double chin in 2014) I had to say that cuz I really wish I would’ve had someone like me for the first time I am saying “Like me” and not like Harsh. Why can’t all other men budge yaar? They only marry their mother a choice this is MODERN DAY INDIA? Yes mummy yes mummy waale dumb imbeciles, why can’t anyone man up and message? Flirt? Ask me out on a date? (You don’t have to flirt with others you can flirt with me all you want but only me) why can’t they ask if I need help with the book like a matured adult? Why can’t they APPROACH OR TALK TO A GIRL? They say na Sx is easy these days then where’s your spine? Can’t man up to even TALK? I’m done with this, what kind of boring c**ts do we have in India? They can sleep with those typical Lokhandwala behenjis who have that fake accent and same common “tone”, all those stupid bimbos they have a fetish they call them “cute” acc to them dumb girls are cute?!!

SHAME ON YOU can’t handle a bomb? Itna bada Tope hai aur bomb handle nahi kar sakta hai? This quote had come up for me “She’s fragile but now like a flower like a bomb” I had said another variation of my name means a flower and I never wanted to be recognised as that I’m not a flower 🌸 I’m not something that feminine or boring, I’m not some cliche representation of beauty, my spelling means light as a matter of fact and I’m happy about it.

I have no other option I am DYING DUE TO ALL OF YOU, had to share that bizarre incident to light the wick and drop that bomb before dying. - Zara Sauleh

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vaovalis · 1 year

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What a fascinating and beautiful song. It has nothing to say to me at all. I stand outside of her, looking in, and this is as close as I may come. She is not for me. What she is about is not in me. I have seen her before though, in glimpses here and there, always from the outside. I have seen her in the warcamps and in the villages of survivors. I have seen her on the front lines, and I have heard her echo in the places where only death sang or danced anymore. There is clearly something immensely powerful that can be shared between two souls joined in heart, mind and body. I have seen the commitment, the fearlessness, the devotion, and I have always admired it, though I have never had such things between myself and anyone else. I am put most in mind of two of my people that fought in my war. They served Argulis directly, but I saw them often as they were amongst his seconds, and thus were frequently involved in our strategic meetings. It was so interesting, to see them together. They had the kind of relationship that we wildlings often called ‘entwined’, because it went past all considerations of marriage or any relationship others could even touch. Like two souls fused together, they did everything as one. It was mesmerizing to observe. And it was tragic when one of them died while the other survived. She did not survive for long. She took her own life after the battle. She gave no warning and said nothing of what she meant to do, but none of us that knew them were surprised. Argulis was angry to have lost two of his best instead of one, but he was never any good at seeing certain obvious things, especially when it came to the hearts and minds of others. When Bertram fell, Lummel had died with him. It just took her mind and body a bit to catch up. The danger of being thusly entwined is apparent, but is it worth it, I wonder, to have the kind of closeness and oneness with another despite the virtual guarantee that whatever happens to one will just as potently affect the other? To live as one, to thrive as one, to dance as one and to die as one. It certainly has the appeal of fascination about it, but it also seems impossible to manufacture. One either finds that sort of thing or no amount of seeking it will help at all, if I am estimating the nature of that magic correctly. It either comes to you or it does not come at all. Quite a few things are like that. I’ve never worried about it accordingly, but its certainly been the sort of thing I’ve spent more than a few of my always-sleepless nights wondering about, especially after seeing how people like Bertram and Lummel were together. Everyone seemed to think it was an especially terrible tragedy that they perished as they did. I agreed, to a point. Everyone else seemed to think it was terrible that Bertram died at all and that Lummel could not bring herself to go on without him. I thought the real tragedy was that they didn’t get to die together, side by side in the same battle. Lummel made sure that her body and mind caught up with the reality by putting a knife in her own heart soon after, but had such things been up to me, I would have granted her death at her mate’s side. lShe cleaned up his recovered body, laid herself beside him and then joined him. She deserved better than to have to sever life’s bond herself to put the matter right. She should not have had to have lived without him, even for the few days she did. I don’t get to decide such things though. All I can do is ponder the nature of these things and acknowledge that, as fascinating and beautiful as it all looks, there are equally terrible dangers lurking in the wonder of such magic.

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cocktailsfairytales · 1 year

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Serena Akeroyd has revealed the cover for the Filthy Feck Duet!

Releasing: December 8, 2022 & December 15, 2022

Cover Design: Letitia Hasser from RBA Designs

Filthy Lies

Star's my penguin.

She doesn't know it.

She took off. Sure. I'm mad at her. Sure. But that's her charm.

She's ornery.

Difficult.

Impossible to love, but I see her BS.

And I call her on it.

I'll chase her from the North Pole to Antarctica, this Fecker isn't about to lose his soul mate.

Filthy Truth

Conor's my lifeline.

He doesn't know it.

I need him to find me.

I need him to chase me.

I need him to love me.

If I haven't already destroyed what we might have had, he's crazy enough to take me on.

My Fecker.

Mine.

Pre-order your copies today!

Filthy Lies

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Filthy Truth

https://mybook.to/FilthyTruth

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3gCIYZI

Meet Serena

HI I'M SERENA AKEROYD, AKA G. A. MAZURKE

I'm a romance bookaholic and I won't touch a book unless I know there's a happy ending. This addiction is what made me craft stories that suit my voracious need for raunchy romance. I love twists and unexpected turns, and my novels all contain sexy guys, dark humor, and hot AF love scenes.

I write MF, MM, Menage, and Reverse Harem (also known as Why Choose romance,) in both contemporary and paranormal. Some of my stories are darker than others, but I can promise you one thing, you will always get the happy ending your heart needs!

Connect with Serena

Website: www.serenaakeroyd.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7205755.Serena_Akeroyd

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

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Ello can you do a Sky imagine where reader and him are a couple and Sky is the only one who knows that there a powerful fairy but then everyone finds out..

Part one - Intertwined

Pairing: Sky x reader

===============================

Sky had loved every minute he spent with Y/N ever since they met. Her presence alone was enough to calm him and he had acted as a compass for her - whenever she got lost, he guided her back home - back to his arms.

They hardly put any labels on what they are, but Y/N means the world to Sky - he knows that much. And while their relationship blossomed, Sky couldn’t help but worry about her and the decisions she made concerning her powers. Not only did she choose never to divulge the true magnitude of her abilities to anyone but the headmistress and Sky, she also trained alone and it often brought dangers he couldn’t anticipate nor protect her from.

He knew the choices were hers to make but that wasn't how his brain worked. For him the man, the specialist, the soldier must always be protector, guardian, the one in the line of fire. For Y/N to be in any danger was killing him from the inside and all the while headmistress just kept saying her skills were better, he wasn't right for this job. He wanted a shot, a chance to get her out of harms way, but how can he save her from herself?

And as the days ticked by his visions grew - blood dripping from his fingertips after each practice only to vanish into the cool autumn air. But that night wasn’t a drill he had to overcome in order to get a nod from Silva. This was real danger as the Burned Ones penetrated the barrier and threatened their security. Her security.

“That looks painful”, Y/N points to his raw hands as she leans on the wall beside Sky. “I could help a little”, she offers, her eyes on his tight lipped smile.

“You could help me by going back to the rest of the group.” Sky swallows thickly, continuing to avoid her gaze, unable to face her and show the fear and determination in his eyes.

“That’s cold. I should know”, she alludes to her powers, forcing a small smile as she steps right in front of Sky. “If I ask you to stand down, you wouldn’t do it.”

Finally looking at her, Sky furrows his eyebrows, “Of course not.”

“Then why are you asking me to do that?” She takes his hand in hers, wetting her lips as she brings the back of his hand to her mouth. Blowing cool air, she relieves a little bit of his pain before slowly moving her eyes up to his only to find his worried hues upon her already.

“If something happens to you, I won’t make it.” Sky lowers his voice, breaking her heart as his voice wavers.

“And what exactly do you think would happen to me if something happens to you?” She raises an eyebrow, challenging him.

“I know we never said anything, but I can’t risk going into this night without you knowing.” Sky tries only to find her index finger pressed against his lips. It’s a gentle touch, not forceful as it seems to some.

“I know”, she whispers, “I feel the same way. It’s like I finally got what I always wanted and now it could be taken from me.” Swallowing thickly, she lets her finger fall, “Which is why I’m not going to be a useless fairy in hiding.”

“What do you need me to do?” Sky manages a smile, his hands intertwining with hers as he brings her closer. He bends ever so slightly, lips parted and it doesn’t take long for her to stand on her tiptoes, eliminating the distance between them as their lips meet.

Their souls have mated long before they felt the hurricane of emotions that connected them to one another.

Parting, breathless, Y/N couldn’t suppress a smile as Sky rested his forehead on hers, their noses brushing, lips just a whisper apart.

“This is exactly what I needed.” Drawing a deep breath, she steps back with a loving smile on her lips, “Stay inside.”

“Wait”, Sky exclaims as she rushes after Bloom who nods her way and before he knows it, the girls vanish into thin air.

Gripping his head, Sky feels panic rise in his chest, breathing becoming a chore.

“SKY?!” Riven pulls him back by the elbow, “Focus! These things are about to break in!”

“I never got to tell her”, Sky breathes out. She said she knows, but he wanted to say it. He needed to say it.

“Tell her what?” Riven frowns, unsure what’s gotten Sky so rattled.

“That I love her.”

While Sky was trying to find a way to stay alive long enough to tell Y/N how he feels, she was far too busy trying to save everyone else.

“We will have to channel more magic that ever before”, Bloom warns her and Y/N nods.

“I have no trouble channeling world destroying magic. That’s what scares me.” Glancing at Alfea, Y/N felt her heart sink with the thought of Sky being inside. “Are you sure those things are following you?”

Nodding, Bloom takes her hand, “We can do this.” But even Bloom didn’t know the true extent of Y/N’s power. No one did. Sky had an idea, but he had never seen the damage she could cause.

“They’re coming”, Stella warns and Y/N looks to her with understanding.

“I can do this”, Bloom whispers as she tries to make a spark, but nothing happens.

“Where’s the fire, Bloom?” Y/N steps back, her voice panicky. She looks around only to see dark figures running at full speed toward them and Bloom still had not created so much as a simple flame.

“Bloom?!” Y/N calls out to her, beginning to shake.

“it’s not working!” Bloom shouts and that’s when Y/N realizes it’s up to her. It isn’t to save her own life, but the very important life inside the school. She can’t fail, not when the consequence would be so dire.

Drawing a deep breath, she closes her eyes. Her mouth is filled with the coppery tang of blood, and it feels like ice is rushing through her veins. She groans as her vision shifts and the world erupts with colors. At first, it hurts, but then she’s suddenly filled with confidence and power. The ice freezes her insides, the colors burn brighter as she curls her fingers up.

In seconds, the water fountain behind her had frozen into spikes. Exhaling, her breath visible in the sudden cold, Y/N felt herself rising along with the frozen spikes she moved to her side. The ice surrounds her, a blue-white light encasing her as her eyes glow ocean blue.

Y/N grew her wings as waves of silk, effortlessly so, and she felt like she'd won her freedom, won the trust of mother nature. While the wings seem as soft as petals, Bloom soon realizes Y/N’s wings are a weapon as they direct the icy spikes toward the Burned Ones, making them fall one by one.

It’s as if it isn’t Y/N anymore, but a vengeful angel possessed by the need to protect innocents from the demons that came looking for blood.

Each spike finds it’s mark, each of them laying on the frosty grass. And as the last one falls, Y/N’s glow intensifies. Her skin is pale, sparkling in the moonlight. her eyes are cold, still glowing as if she can’t turn it off and her wings, they flutter as if they could blow the arctic winds down upon the world.

“Holy shit”, Bloom gasps as she stumbles back.

“It’s okay, Y/N!” Stella tries, “You can come down and rest now.”

“I can’t”, Y/N whispers under her breath. She tried, but it felt impossible to stop it. It’s as if the ice had frozen her heart over, the source of all that’s good - of control.

Looking at her softly glowing hands, she swallows thickly. She’s still above the ground, painfully aware she has wings - the very wings fairies aren’t supposed to have anymore. The brightly colorful world is just as intense, just as difficult to take as when it first appeared.

“Princess?!”

And that’s when she hears the shaky, loving voice of the one she’s been trying to protect.

“Sky?” She croaks, tears brimming her eyes.

“Come back to me.” Sky holds up his arm, hand open for Y/N to take. He can see she’s lost, scared even.

“I don’t know how”, she admits. He’s the light in her darkness, her compass, if he can’t help her, no one can.

“I believe in you.” Sky wets his quivering lips, “I love you, Y/N. I need you.”

Releasing a heavy sigh, Y/N nods, closing her eyes. She focuses on her heartbeat that’s like an echo, a distant reminder she is a living, breathing creature.

When she opens her eyes, she finds her hand almost touching Sky’s.

He reaches for her, bringing her down to his embrace and she shivers violently as the warm glow around her dies down instantly.

“Hold onto me”, Sky whispers, running his hands up and down her back to warm her up. “Hold onto me, you’re all I have”, he repeats as he picks her up in his arms.

She rests her head on his chest, curled up in the safety of his arms. No matter what, she knew she’d be safe with him. “I love you too”, she says softly before falling asleep from exhaustion the magic used caused.

And while Sky and Y/N spent the night in each other’s arms, the rest of the school was finally made aware of all the secrets Y/N tried to hide - her royal status and the unimaginable power she yields.

It certainly looked like Solaria will soon be second strongest kingdom, because when Y/N takes the throne she’s entitled to - and with prince Sky by her side, their power, their union would be unmatched.

Part 3

#sky x reader #sky imagine #sky fate winx saga #fate the winx saga #sky of eraklyon #winx sky #sky of eraklyon x reader

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lovecinnatwist · 3 years

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Hope u stay safe and healthy! Abo with omega dick and alpha Jay, fluff if possible? Thanks :)

Hi Anon! I am in fact safe and healthy! Have a nice little ficlet of Alpha!Jason and Omega!Dick being very glad that their little pup is also safe, healthy and coming home.

Where the heart is - JayDick Omegaverse

Tags: Kid Fic, Omegaverse, Alpha Jason, Omega Dick, surrogate parent/adoption, lactating/milking Helena Wayne is Helena Mary Grayson Todd

Sometimes Dick Grayson forgets that his mate is an alpha.

It’s easy to do when Jason’s so sweet in a way that’s distinctively omegan. Perhaps it’s the influence of the mother who left him or remnants from the tender affection B only had for his second pup. It’s something soft and tender and so uniquely him that makes Dick love him more and more everyday.

Jason curls around him effortlessly. Warm muscles squeeze tight enough to be pleasant, but not chafing.

Dick has always been a runner. Jason understands that and leaves a clear exit open at all times. A difficult obstacle for traditional courting rituals. Not that the alpha had any challenge clearing hurdle after hurdle. Jason is anything but traditional as well.

So is their current situation.

A large warm hand rests on his shoulder. The heat bleeding out is more than soothing to his already twitching instincts. There’s no reason to be nervous. After all this is a natural occurrence. The pup with latch, Dick knows it will but still his heart flutters with nervousness.

Jason’s rumble soothes the eagerness away. It quells the barrage of emotions ready to burst.

“ Mr and Ms Grayson - Todd? “

The agent from CPS is wonderfully nice, light brown eyes glittering with excitement. The delightful purr of her tone of voice betrays her enthusiasm. Just as Jason’s rise in happy-hopeful-ready betrays his. Dick’s been dreaming of this day for a long time. Long before the aspiration had been stolen from him by a knife. Then again by age and a barely functioning body strung out by high stress.

It’s Jason’s strength that helps him stand.

The sleepy scent of milk and pup adorn the air like perfume. Even before Dick spots his- no their- daughter, every part of his instincts sing. His breast began to ache immediately. The grueling weeks of hormone treatments and supplements are finally worth it.

Worth it as Doctor Leslie gives him tiny, little Helena.

Dick thinks he’s been in love with her since the moment he saw her behind glass. From the moment his breast began to ache when they gave him a few of her blankets to add to his nest. From the very moment Jason told him he could have her.

She’s heavy in a way Dick doesn’t expect. The weight is foreign yet so comfortable to bear. The alpha does not press to see her, or to touch her. Dick gets a few precious moments to marvel at the prettiest pup he’s ever seen.

Gorgeous green eyes open up in seemingly joyful curiosity. Though potentially, it might just be his hopeful outlook that makes it appear that way. Dick wants so badly for her to love him. To love them- to belong to their little broken family. To an omega who is half of what they should be and an alpha who is dysphoric instead of dominating.

The scent of milk is strong enough to draw the pup to root amongst the fabric covering his breast. It’s a gentle motion, one made precious by the very soft sounds of pup calling for pack. Dick’s throat is tight from emotion. Luckily his partner wastes no time in letting out a soothing rumble. The vibrations of the action shakes against his back.

Hot tears sting two different sets of blue eyes.

“She should be quite hungry. It’s time for her lunch time feeding. I’m sure she would greatly appreciate milk from her mommy. “

The word mommy devastates him. It washes his soul out to sea, and wraps him in a whirlpool of bliss. It’s too much and not enough at the same. This child- this pup is going to see him as her dame. She will spend the rest of her life in a warm safe nest never knowing anything but love and affection. Dick hopes that she will love him despite not being apart of her DNA. For not being able to give birth to her himself.

Jason’s touch breaks the track of that train of thought.

It’s a dance to bring a beading nipple to her hungry little mouth. Jason, who is leagues more natural, helps Dick undress and get both him and the pup comfortable. If Dick is lost to the tides, the alpha is a wreckage on the bluff. The chair is big enough for both soon to be parents.

Jason’s warmth is ever present and grounding.

The massive fingers that trail down Helena’s face makes her look so tiny. Like a delicate little thing that could be broken by too fast a movement. Not that Jason has the capacity to be anything but gentle. His heart bleeds for people. It bleeds out until the entirety of Gotham is red with his protection.

It takes both of them together to get Helena to Dick’s leaking breast. The pup whines as she struggles to get the nipple in her mouth. She’s more familiar with the bottle they had told him. That it would take time but eventually she would suckle. There’s no inhale or exhale as the pup attempts to nurse.

Then like magic she latches.

The tears refuse to be held back. Dick’s heart alarmingly full as Helena feeds forcefully but eagerly. The moment she gets a mouth full she’s quick to take more. Her hungry little mouth makes loud sounds and she feeds. Jason purrs in encouragement. His hand lightly tickles her wispy black curls.

She’s perfect. She’s perfect wonderful and Dick won’t know what to do if they can’t take her home today.

Luckily they don’t have to find out. Both breast get equal attention as the infant switches from one to another. It’s so natural and easy Dick doesn’t know why he had let himself worry to begin with. They pass with flying colors. After the feeding and burping both he and Jason get a neat stack of forms that require their signatures.

Then she’s free to leave with them.

Jason holds Helena as Dick takes his turn to sign. The alpha looks so at ease with their baby girl in his arms. His muscular frame dwarfing her’s. Dick hopes that the pup knows there is no place safer than in her father’s arms. Even if she seems grumpy as he harrasses her in her drowsy state.

Dick has to steal her back when the alpha kisses her nose, drawing a very upset puppy whine from her still developing vocal chords. Jason is absolutely heartbroken to let her go. At some point when Leslie goes to process the paperwork they get to be alone with their daughter.

Helena Mary Grayson-Todd.

Jason takes to sating his instincts by smothering Dick instead of their very sleepy pup.

“She’s so beautiful. “He murmurs, voice low enough not to set her off again. The thickness of the words would be impossible not to recognize. Though he’s doing a good job holding it together, Dick can tell the alpha is close to tears. The gravity of the situation finally sinks in.

“ You were perfect Dickie. “

The nickname melts down his spine, deep and warm like something butter. Typically that tone would make his eyes flutter shut. His body going loose and lax against his mate. Not now however. Now while his eyes are so busy trying to memorize everything about their pup.

The process had been grueling. They had to get Jason legal, find a reputable company, pick a donor, try on each of her ovulations, suffer when it didn’t take, then try again, then the paper work, the fees, the complications, the waiting- Oh God the waiting.

It had been the worst, most agonizing part. Right after the premature birth, and watching their little one breathe in a little shallow tank, kept warm by heat lamps.

How Dick wishes he could have just taken her home that very first day.

Not that it matters anymore. Not when she’s theirs now. Not when she get’s to come home today and be put in their nest where she belongs. Right in-between her two parents.

God Dick doesn’t know how he’ll manage to share her. The perfect pup in his arms is just so wonderful. It’s been such a long agonizing journey, he barely wants to hand her over to her sire.

He laughs, wetly, trying not to wake Helena from her nap.

“ If I can’t share you with Daddy how will I give you to your aunties and uncles huh? “

Jason’s laugh is close to his ear, sweet and silent to the point where it barely breathes. The soft sound makes his toes curl in his shoes. The searing comfort of love and happiness runs through his body as happy chills.

It’s something to get familiar with. The quiet laugh of a father trying not to wake their pup.

He looks at those watery blue-green eyes and Dick is falling in love all over again.

God who knew they could end up here? The two of them- finally starting a family together. That they could walk away from a life of pain and agony, to gift themselves something so beautiful.

For the first time in months, giving up the moniker doesn’t feel so suffocating.

When Jason laces their fingers together over their pup he knows his husband, his mate, the half of his heart agrees.

All while the new half lays in their arms, peaceful, healthy and forever loved.

#jaydick #omegaverse #alpha!jason #omega!dick #ficlet #request #kid fic #fluffy fluff #mommy Dick #Daddy Jason #ficlets

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lena-imzadi-221b · 3 years

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Yup welcome to the club of I've got long multi chapter fics simmering in my head but I saw a thing, heard a song and oops my fingers slipped....

Fingers slowly travelled from his back to his side, grabbing a handful of his white dress shirt as Lando seemed to hold on for dear life. They were standing close, too close. His whole right side was engulfed by a tipsy Lando, his eyes impossibly close. Those glazed over big colour of the universe eyes staring right into his soul. He took the dare presented to him as he watched Lando's mouth fall open lazily, tongue darting out, licking...waiting.

"Dios mio Lando! Ok, my turn. What does love mean to you. The word, the feeling?"

The younger man frowned, swayed against him, grabby fingers letting go of his shirt, landing on his lower back, drawing circles with his fingers, tapping, stopping, holding on again. Did he realize he was being so extremely touchy...with him no less...in a club full of random drunk people...in almost darkness hidden away in a private corner behind a curtain where the deep beats filled him up and made this whole situation seem even more ridiculous. How did they end up behind a very soft velvet curtain anyway?

"Love? I guess it's about wanting to do everything together, sharing and accepting to feel really comfortable with each other. To make each other smile when life sucks, to want to see their love in their eyes like you just gave them the moon you know. Wanting to be with someone even if the world would be against it, even when it's...a feeling of warmth and feeling safe with them...but sometimes it hurts so much cause you want to be with them and you love them so much it hurts cause you can't...."

The words were almost pleading, yearning. For what? Or even who?

Lando blinked, frowned, shook his head and before Carlos could ask more, felt Lando's soft curls brush half his face, hot breath against his cheek, neck. "What is love to the great muppet Carlos Sainz?"

Without warning Lando's lips and nose pressed against his cheek, arm around his neck and he stumbled back as a couple had danced into the thick curtain and bumped into them pushing Lando against him. Carlos wrapped an arm around Lando's waist to steady him as the couple yelled a giggly drunk apology through the curtain and moved away. "Wow sorry, they just-" But Carlos shook his head and smiled, squeezing Lando against him before letting go.

Like a magnet Lando was back sticking to his side, no wandering hands this time, he was fidgetting. A question. Waiting. Oh right. "So love ey. To me a bit the same as you very elequently said-" that got him a snort from the younger man with a smile nonetheless and twinkling eyes on top "- it's also about filling someone's empty spaces. Wanting to hold onto someone. It's not about taking and keeping, it's about letting go and see what comes back. Providing a place where you can be yourself and the other person doesn't have to be afraid to be the person they are, even when they are not at their best. And when they are not you want to do everything you can to fill those places that are lacking so they can become their best. And you do that willingly for as long as you can and as long as you are allowed to be by that person's side."

Lando's looking at his hands, his adams apple going up and down and Carlos has to lean closer to hear what he says.

"If that is love to you then...you love me." His voice due to the music was still loud but it sounded so far away and when Lando's eyes meet his, Carlos is stunned into silence. He couldn't look away, stuck in a trap he laid out for himself. Slowly, he reached out for Lando, fingers tentavily grabbing onto the other's fingers. Grabbing harder, pulling Lando even closer to him. He kept his gaze sharp, focused and nodded. "I do."

Lando's eyes widened, lips parted just slightly. There it was. Hanging between them. No going back.

"Thank you."

Ok. That wasn't the response he was expecting. Who says 'thank you' after a decleration like that?

He felt Lando take a shaky breath, hands squeezing his. He'd somehow forgotten he was still holding Lando's small hands. "Sorry, that's not-" Lando gestured between them with his hand now leaving his hand limp by his side. He's sorry for what? His response? What was going on between them? Regrets? Leaving? Not what?

Lando's voice cracked as he tried again but tears well up in his eyes, Carlos felt him shaking all over. Instinctively Carlos reached over and wrapped his arms around Lando. He feels the tug of his shirt as Lando clenches his fists at the fabric at his sides and the weight of Lando's head as he hides his face into the crook of Carlos' neck. Eventually he felt Lando wrap his arms around him too, stepping so close there was no more space between them. He felt him take a deep breath and he had to concentrate to hear Lando over the loud music.

"Carlos, you are an amazing person, you're so talented, you're such a good driver, better than you think, so much better than anyone gives you credit for. Being your team mate those two years have been the most rewarding thing I've ever done in years. Ever. The best time. I owe you so much. So much. Why do you keep up with me? Why me?"

Carlos sighed into Lando's hair. "I told you, because I love you."

"I know." Lando murmered against his collar bone, he felt lips against his neck.

Carlos' love is like Agape. It's selfless. It is about giving and doing for someone else, even if time would bring it to an end eventually, even if there's no payoff. Lips pressed against his cheek, the corner of his mouth and Carlos turned his head slightly and felt Lando's lips, gently, on his. He tightens their embrace. His heart's in his throat when he pressed into Lando's lips and he felt him melt into him.

Lando brings a hand up to the side of his neck and gently brushes his thumb along his earlobe as he tilts his head and kisses Carlos back fully. It send a shiver down his spine. He's feeling lightheaded and dazed and he needs a moment so he pulls back. But Lando has other plans, hand behind his head, fingers in his hair, he pulls Carlos back in, lips gently parted. When Lando pulls back, he touches his forehead to Carlos'. He exhales heavily, eyes closed. "Sorry, I-"

Carlos moved, nuzzling the side of Lando's nose with his own, then carefully nips at Lando's bottom lip. Lando tips his head back to meet and sigh into Carlos' full lips. The kiss is slow and sensual. He feels Lando cup his cheek and deepens the kiss. This is-

Lando licks his lower lip and he opens for him. It's intense and raw. He savours the taste of Lando's tongue sliding against his own. Heaven.

Before long their breathing becomes uneven, their kisses desperate and needy. "Lando?" Carlos asks hoarsly between kisses. Lando pulls back and bumps his forehead to Carlos' shoulder. Both trying to get their breathing back to normal.

Lando leans back and gazes at him, surprisingly more steady on his feet. "We made each other a better part of ourselves. You filled up empty space I didn't know I had or was even possible to.... I'm just really glad I met you and you want to share your life and these moments with me. I want to give you a place for you with me for as long as you would let me."

Carlos smiled at the tears being reflected back to him as he felt his own forming. "Is that your way of saying that Lando muppet Norris may love me as much as I love him?"

Lando looked at him through his eyelashes, tilting his head, that look that got him out of so many things and made Carlos love him a little bit more every time. "They say milk and chilli do go well together...." They giggled but Lando's expression turned serious as he nodded maybe more to himself. "I love you, I truly do. Maybe we can take this slowly and see what adventures we'll go on?"

Carlos smiled lovingly. "Let's have our first date tomorrow evening, yeah?"

"You mean this wasn't a date? Huh could've sworn this evening started with you not being able to keep your hands off of me and getting yourself so tipsy because you couldn't deal with being in love with your friend and looking for some courage to hint at it but failing miserably."

Looking lovingly at Lando, Carlos laughs out loud. "My muppet friend, you never cease to make me happy. You want to grab another drink and have a dance or come to my place, watch a movie, kick your ass in FIFA and make a midnight snack?"

Lando giggled and entwined their hands, pulling Carlos towards the exit, leaning against him. "Let's go home, I'm in the mood for cuddling, a nice horror movie so you can keep me safe and that midnight snack."

"Yeah home. Hey I thought you wanted to take us slowly?" Carlos winked and waggled his eyebrows. He was rewarded by a high pitched giggle. "I will in a few dates but I'm actually really hungry."

"That's what I was saying!"

"Stop!" Another heartfelt giggle.

"I'll never stop Mi Vida."

🧡❤

#carlando #i needed this #now i can go to sleep #hope it brings a smile on someone's face #makes you forget a shitty mood or moment or day #it always gets better #i promise #you deserve to be here #reading this proves you are not alone

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riddlecrux · 3 years

Text

Rosehall

Day 1 of Elriel Month is here! Summary: He knew that Rhysand's orders weren't fickle nor laced with lies, yet he couldn't phantom how his brother turned on him. How he, of all the people, couldn't understand how badly he wanted to be happy.

You can also read it on ao3!

They didn't talk.

No shy glances, no accidental touches while passing each other through the corridor, no warm smiles behind the rim of a wine glass. Even the silence in which he was sitting was unbearable, so different than the one that carried comfort and jasmine scent that always made him content, whole, at ease. Now, sitting alone on the fine chair in the House of Wind he was barely breathing. He was suffocating with loneliness, heavier than the one that crawled through his bones in that dark cell from his childhood. A real pain exploded behind his closed eyelids.

The night air pricked on his face as he tried not to think, not to feel. It was as if the gaping hole in his chest was a thing of his own shadows - swirling inside, eating him out and leaving only shreds of his broken emotions. He tried. He tried so desperately not to fall for her. For yet another unattainable person that was next to him just to mock his misfortune. It was something completely wrong. How one can take so many failures and still delude himself that maybe this time the ending would be different.

He was such a damned fool.

Azriel opened his eyes as a sharp pang in his chest enveloped him in another wave of utter bitterness and helplessness. The thing with Elain was something he hadn't expected - she came into his life wielding a fork and suddenly he could see clearer than ever before in his life. How sun caught in her golden-brown hair and how the freckles on her left cheek created a small triangle. And the way all that loveliness faded away when she was stripped of her own free will - and how he failed her at that moment. The arrow to his chest didn't hurt as much as her screams. The terror of them was still haunting him during long nights of insomnia and half slept nights.

And there was that companionship they formed. Based on silence and gardens. Teas full of leaves and sticky fruit floating on its surface. Elain always preferred her to drink sweet, even if her nose scrunched each time she sipped from a porcelain teacup - pale pinky held in the air as if she was still a lady in a room full of liars and men trying to woo her. Maybe during those moments of tranquility between them, he started to appreciate her gentleness even more.

Their meetings slowly but surely transformed into nights full of sleeplessness and sore throats - silence turned into constant chatter about everything and nothing. The first time he heard her giggle his world turned upside down. In that particular moment she was all he saw, in all her golden glory and chocolate smear on her chin - so warm and bright, so out of his reach. A secret. His secret, a memory to be locked inside his mind's labyrinth.

Sometimes he wished that both of them stopped before they had even begun their… relationship. Because maybe if he possessed more self strength and if he was less selfish, he would have protested when Elain touched his hand while they were resting in the garden. Or when he caressed her cheek while trying to get rid of the soil splattered there. Whenever they touched Azriel felt as if he was healing. These small palms that traced ridiculous figures on his scarred hands brought him comfort no one else did. A touch so tender that he wanted to break in halves only for her to mend him again. She was nothing like him and at the same time so familiar, so understanding. When she looked at him with her brown eyes full of terrors and beauty, he knew that she could see his soul. Every ugly part of him. And she never averted her stare, never flinched from his touch - she wholeheartedly accepted him.

Sighing out loud his wings twitched behind him when his eyes darkened once again. He knew that Rhysand's orders weren't fickle nor laced with lies, yet he couldn't phantom how his brother turned on him. How he, of all the people, couldn't understand how badly he wanted to be happy.

"Long night?" He snapped his neck at the voice and inwardly relaxed seeing cold silver eyes staring at him without fear.

"I suppose so," shrugging his shoulders he turned back toward the city, one hand still on the glass of strong alcohol he was pouring into himself for hours. A screech of a moving chair resonated next to him and with a slow exhale he sipped his drink.

"Not the fire this time," Nesta huffed and he saw in his peripheral vision that she poured herself a decent shot as well. "Both of you are the same," a small smile ghosted on her lips before she drank the brownish liquid in one go.

"Me and who?" He knew playing stupid wouldn't work on her but he was so tired. He had already lost, so Nesta seeing him at his worst would be nothing in comparison to the thunder inside his mind. The oldest Archeron sister let out a dry chuckle which indicated that she was aware of his silly attempt of deflection.

"Elain," her name awakened something inside him. Like a golden tether holding him upwards, longing after the female that brought up such emotions from him. "She used to glow these days, you know," he saw her playing with the rim of the goblet. Long finger stopping suddenly as if the glass burned her. "I know what happiness looks on her, and whenever both of you interacted or spent time together she was always… so bright. So alive," his heart thumped a few times before it gave him a painful tug. "The moment you saved her life was the first time I had wished that you were her mate," the wound opened again, a small sound escaped his mouth before he slumped forward. "But fate isn't so merciful. Yet, Elain made her own way in this life. I saw how she escaped that empty shell she used to be and how she learned to breathe again… with you ," Azriel wanted her to stop. To let go of this torment she was exposing him to.

"I can't listen to this," he stood up, his wings stretching to its whole span. "You know it's impossible," his bitter laugh echoed in the interior. "We both know that it doesn't matter if I have feelings for her," he was ready to fly away when Nesta's hand caught his elbow. Silver eyes shone in the darkness of the night with ancient power.

"It's her choice," she whispered. "She doesn't want her mate, she has never wanted that bond," her grip loosened for a bit and he was tempted to run away but her expression held him in one place. "But she wants you. She chose you. And you know it because I saw how you look at her, how both of you glance at each other," she pinched him when he was composing himself from snapping at her. "Ask her. Ask her about what she wants. Take her to the place where it's just both of you, so no one can interfere," her nod was final and with it, she slowly turned around and vanished upstairs. His jaw hurt from the force he was clenching his teeth. Nesta's words were a poison that circulated through his bloodstream.

Could he have that conversation?

Could they possibly be together?

The night air was cold against his burning skin when he shot up in the sky, wings outstretched and tense.

He landed on her balcony.

The beige curtains were dancing in the air, metal dreamcatcher swaying on the wisps with a soft melody. There were plants and flowers scattered around the balustrade and his shadows skittered around them, leaping into petals and leaves before returning to his form. He stopped beside the wooden table to see half-finished tea and some papers - a few of them with drawings of different gardens, trees, and notes about the seeds. However, what caught his attention was a stash of papers with Elain's handwriting. All of them were thrown around the surface with drops of tea marking some of them. There were letters forming sentences, he could pinpoint some of them, ones that weren't completely crossed out in the pale moonlight. He was about to touch one scroll with his name on it when his shadows whirled around him with a soft warning.

"Spying on me?" The sweet scent of jasmine and honey embraced his person as his hazel eyes blinked at the sight in front of him. Elain was in a white nightgown, tiny ribbons on her freckled shoulders were something he didn't know he needed to see in his life. Her loose hair was curling at its edges as the tresses touched her middle. She was watching him, big brown eyes stoic and unnerving.

"No," he breathed and her smell attacked his senses, driving him crazy. She crossed her arms under her breasts and padded towards him. Her feet stopped next to him and with a lazy movement, she gathered her papers without glancing at him. He could see her nape, soft and pale and so inviting as she leaned across the table. His fingers curled into fists when her presence burned his self-resilience.

"Do you need me for something?" She inquired letters in her grip and a slight frown on her perfect face.

"Actually," his shoulder tensed when she shot him a questioning glance. "Yes, I need you," he left it there. A pause and weight of his words, waiting for the judgment and perhaps hatred. But it never came as Elain silently turned to him, her lips parted and a soundless sigh ghosting in the air between them. She peered at him, irises wide and somewhat gentle before she touched his biceps and he was ready to be undone.

"We should talk," her breath tickled his skin as he nodded without thinking twice. "Here?" Her question woke him up and trying not to scare her, he offered his scarred palm while stretching out his wings.

"There's a place I want to show you," his words echoed in the dead of night and as her small fingers wrapped around his hand he could finally breathe again.

When they arrived the moon was high in the sky, its light reflecting on the waters of a marble fountain in front of the manor. He exhaled letting Elain down as she politely exchanged her thanks. She pried her hair from the face and with newfound excitement, she whirled around facing him with a bright smile.

"I dreamed about this place," her voice was warm and all he wanted was to touch her to make sure she was standing there under the moonlight. "The gardens were something I have wanted to see," she pointed a finger in the direction of a greenhouse and a patch of flowers and vines.

"Dream or a vision?" He knew he shouldn't test his luck, yet deep down inside he felt as if he had already known the answer. As if it was imprinted inside his heart for a long time.

"Vision," she answered, walking towards the field of roses. Her palm touched some petals while her hair tumbled down towards the ground. "I saw you here," her digits closed around the stem with silent amusement. "You were happy," she turned around and looked straight at him.

"This is Rosehall," the lump in his throat made it difficult for him to speak. It was like a fever dream of his, having her here in the fields of flowers and so painstakingly real.

"Very suitable," she smiled and turned once again stepping onto the soft grass. "It's a pretty name," he heard her sitting on the ground and when he glanced up he saw her lying flat on the earth. Her knees were slightly angled but her face was upwards as if she was watching stars. Azriel staggered towards her, breathing fresh air as he finally stood up on her right.

"I haven't thought about its name for years," he slowly sat and looked at her profile. She was gazing at the sky with a small smile. Happiness looked beautiful on her, it made her glow.

"There's so much...space," she breathed and her chest moved in a slight erratic manner. "You can almost taste freedom here," Elain blinked as she turned onto her side. She faced him and he thought that there was never a time in his life when he felt so many emotions at once.

"I'm sorry," the edges of him crumbled as his eyes started to burn. He didn't mean to hurt her, not in the slightest. He was just too… selfish. And she was everything he had ever dreamed about, an embodiment of home, of a warmth he so desperately searched for. "It wasn't a mistake," he whispered as her hand fell upon his abdomen. Always trusting, always inviting.

"Then what? A distraction?" She mused as her body leaned forward and she was mirroring his position. "I will never know as long as you won't talk to me," she supplied with a pain in her voice.

"No, never a distraction. I have wanted this," he circled the air with his hand ambiguously. "From the moment you clenched onto that fork you were someone I have wanted to be with," his head lowered down Azriel didn't want to meet her eyes.

"Why haven't you told me?" Her confusion mixed with regret pained him.

"You have a mate," he muttered while plucking on some innocent straw of grass.

"And you know I don't want him," her palm searched for his cheek and as she turned his face to look at her, he saw tears in her eyes. "Whenever I'm with you I feel whole. Alive. I look at you and feel so scared," he inwardly flinched yet she held him in one place. "Scared of losing you. Every time I lose sight of you I feel like I'm drowning. It's as if a part of me was ripped apart," she closed her trembling lips and stared at him with utter devotion.

"Elain," his fingers touched her neck, his thumb circling around the hollow gap between her shoulder and jaw.

"That night I chose you. Us," she said with a final note, leaning against his hand. "It's my choice, no one else's," a butterfly-like kiss ghosted on his inner palm.

"Rhysand's orders," he gulped when she pushed him down and climbed onto his lap.

"Fuck Rhysand's orders," she spat and for a moment both of them were silent. Then he laughed, a true bellowing laughter erupted at the back of his throat at her vicious remark. Her giggles followed and he had never heard such an extraordinary sound.

"Never deemed you as a foul mouth," he managed when she slumped forward, enveloping him in a warm hug.

"I live with Illyrians and a very pissed immortal being," a hot kiss on his neck made him shiver.

"Elain," he took her face in his hands and stared at her brown eyes with a heat crawling down his spine. "Elain," he whispered again while closing the distance between them. She whimpered when he finally nibbed at her lower lip. The sensation waking up something primal inside him, a storm of feelings and needs attacking his senses. Her warm mouth opened and he finally kissed her - something exploded in his chest, something brilliant and intimate. It was as if everything was set in order, the way her lips moved against and how their bodies molded into one. He could feel her, smell her need and anticipation. She was shaking as her small fingers dug into his neck.

"Azriel," his name on her lips was his undoing. He opened his eyes and saw her… glowing. The golden hue enveloping both of them into a cocoon of intense bliss. When she opened her eyes the golden color lingered there for a while before vanishing, leaving both of them gasping for air.

"You were always there," he realized touching his chest. A vibrant thread blinding him with its magnitude.

"Rosehall," she laughed tracing his scars. "You have waited for so long," Elain kissed his temple while embracing him again. "I'm sorry I have made you wait for so long," the bridge between them sparkled with love and belonging.

"I knew you would come to me," nothing but the truth slipped through his lips as he gently cupped her chin. Both of them stared at each other, halves of two finally found. A home he had longed for, held in his arms as a scent of roses and jasmine shielded him from the world.

#elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #pro elriel #elriel #day 1 #rosehall #pro elain archeron #pro azriel #elain and azriel

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stardust-kenobi · 4 years

Text

Necklace

Poe Dameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: Poe returns to base after a very risky and long battle against the First Order. In the time he’d been gone, and his life flashing before his eyes, he wants to show you how badly he missed you, and how much you mean to him.

Warnings: Filthy, descriptive, SMUT (fingering, m/f oral giving and receiving, daddy kink, choking, vaginal sex) starts with some adorable fluffiness from my fav little resistance pilot 🥺 mentions of death and blood...but yeah mostly smut.

A/n: I’m unapologetically horny for Poe. I’ve been dying to write content for this man, I love him so much. If anyone has any Poe/sequel specific blog recommendations, lmk!

Word count: 4k

Request from @princessxkenobi. You’re the best✨💕 hope you enjoy! Btw, I took your request and RAN with it lmao

gif is not mine

Your stomach tumbled aggressively in your abdomen. Every pilot that joined Poe on their dangerous mission, almost three weeks ago, was currently exiting their x-wings...except Poe. The Falcon lowered from the sky, landing roughly on the grass. Exiting the ship was Finn and Rey, but still no Poe. The love of your life, your soul mate, your other half...was he gone?

You swallowed hard, forcing back the sorrow lump in your throat that crept up with the realization of what could have happened. A sickness formed in your stomach when your eyes scan the field of landing ships, still not identifying his distinguishable transport.

“No..” you whispered your cry. A cold, stray tear fell over your cheek bone. Your vision went blurry and your mind became a looped, dizzy mess in the wake of your distress.-

Before you fell apart completely, something interrupted you.

“There’s my baby girl” A voice broke the empty air behind you. Your gasp was caught in your throat and you found it hard to breathe for the milliseconds between your pain and your relief. Your body swung around swiftly for your eyes to meet Poe’s loving gaze. His bag slid from his shoulder to meet the ground. He hustled toward you, arms spread open to welcome you into his embrace.

“Poe...” You mumbled softly. That was the only word that your trembling lips could develop in your moment of shock. You reminded yourself to breath. 30 seconds prior to this engagement, you assumed that you’d lost the love of your life to the relentless violence of the First Order. But he was here, he was holding you, he was alive.

“God, I'm so happy to see you, y/n” His head rested atop yours and his arms provided shelter around your body.

“I thought you were gone, Poe” you looked up at him, tears still pooled in your eyelids. Your voice broke as his name rolled off your tongue. That same lump in your throat returned, or maybe it never left.

“Shhh” He calmed you, his hand caressed your head to comfort your distress. “It’s okay”.

The active twinkling stars in the night sky illuminated his features for you to admire. You scan every inch of his face, taking it in as if you’d never see him again. As you scanned upward, you suddenly noticed the dark red liquid dried to his forehead. Your stomach sank.

“What happened?” You direct your attention to his injury. “Are you okay?”. You pulled a rag from his abandoned bag, and quickly tried to clean it from his skin.

“Oh...yeah, I’m okay, y/n. It doesn’t hurt. Just got blasted and hit my head on the side metal of my x-wing. It was a...a close call...but I got out of there in time.” His voice was like honey to your ears in the midst of your worries. Poe picked up your hands that had fallen from gripping his body. Gentle kisses graced your knuckles. “To come back to you, baby”

“I missed you so much, Poe. I didn’t see you land and immediately assumed the worst” you admitted to him, still holding back your tears that were slowly subsiding.

“I didn’t mean to worry you, I’m sorry” he assured.

“I’d be a mess if you hadn’t come back” You admitted.

“That’ll never happen, y/n” He assured you, with no real ability to promise this, but it was comforting to you in the moment.

He kissed your forehead and offered a warm smile, resulting in a grin forming at your lips as well. It quickly turned upside down at the sight of a tear trailing down Poe’s face came into view.

“Poe what’s wrong?” You asked so worrisome.

He instantly looked distressed from your inquiry like he was barely holding it together prior to your concern.

“It was really hard out there. Seeing you just-” his broken voice interrupted his thoughts “it made me remember how lucky I am to have you in my life. It could be over in an instant. But I have you” he pushed through his shakiness. Your thumb meets his cheek to wipe away his sorrow.

You pushed your body up against him, and planted a kiss onto his unexpecting lips. It was deep and passionate and definitely what he needed to feel. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down into your face.

There were others wandering around you, unloading gear, welcoming the pilots back home, rejoicing in the success, but you knew that the intimacy of your kiss would go unnoticed by anyone else. You felt alone with Poe, like no one else existed in the whole galaxy.

He encouraged the kiss further, rotating his lips around yours slowly. The moan that crept from his mouth indicated a desire for more. The relief of being reunited sparked a hunger in you as well. You wanted him.

You both gathered your composure after a few minutes of consoling each other, just thankful to be safe, and together.

“I need to be alone with you” he said, sounding as if he would go insane if he wasn’t able to have you soon.

“Let me show you how much I really missed you” he whispered into your ear. You shoot him an are you sure? look considering the abundance of company around you. Surely there’d be no privacy for a while, and you’d have to be very quiet in his small quarters. “I need you” he practically begged. You happily nodded in agreement.

“C’mon” he smirked and took your hand, leading you away from the commotion of the base and to the partial privacy of his room. There were people that he stopped and spoke with on the way there. You were so eager for alone time, it was torture every time your journey was interrupted.

You both finally arrived. He closed the door behind you. The familiarity of the harsh fluorescent lighting and the tight enclosure of the room was oddly comforting, but surely not romantic.

“Well that won’t set the mood, will it?” He chuckled, referring to the uneasy lighting above. He pulled a lighter from his pocket, and lit a small candle on the table next to the cot. The lights shut off, revealing a sudden romantic environment, softly lit by a single flame.

A small, black curl laid lonely on his forehead, which you slowly moved away from his face. You stood there together, in the middle of the room, absorbing each other’s presence. Your anticipation rose for what was about to happen. You missed his bare body against yours. You needed him now.

He subtly licked his lips while studying the curve of your bottom lip. Once you both understood that you were alone, he practically pounced onto you with a burning hunger in his gaze. Poe’s kisses were heavy and intimate. Every movement of his mouth was rhythmic. His hands gripped your face, as if to pull you even closer to him, which was completely impossible.

“Fuck I missed you baby” he breathed in between the bursts of fusion of your mouths.

“Me too” you managed to say before his lips were on yours again.

He walked backwards slowly and pulled you with him. He sat down onto the cot and guided your legs to straddle him at his waist. Poe maneuvered the cloth of your coat down your shoulders and slid it down to the floor, leaving you in a thin cropped tank top and your shorts. His calloused hands drew goosebumps where they touched when they travelled over your arms. His kisses transported to the skin on your neck, cascading down to the collarbone. You leaned into him, absorbing the delicacy of his admiration.

You moaned quietly which grabbed his attention almost immediately. He looked up at you, the same starving look of desire in his eyes with a cocky smirk plastered onto his face.

“What was that about you showing me how much you missed me?” you purred into his ear, teasing him, and placing your lips at his neck now. Your fingers worked to unbutton his shirt. The motions you made at his skin earned a small groan from his lips. This subtle sound alone formed a heat between your legs.

His grip, already around your waist, tightened as your question rang his ears. Poe knew that sex with you was always paradise, but taking it slow always resulted in a level of intimacy he’s only ever felt with you. He needed to take his time with you, but at this moment it was so hard for him to do so with how badly he missed you.

You removed his shirt, revealing the broadness of his chest, presented to you so closely. You cannot help but stare intently at his features. Your fingertips traced the outline of his chiseled abdomen. The necklace he always wore, that you’d never seen him without, remained around his neck. You loved the way it looked on him, and wouldn’t dare take it off.

Poe swiftly removed your top that clung so tightly to your body. He is met with the sight of your breasts that were unrestrained under your clothes.

“Oh baby girl I missed these” he cooed and cupped your exposed tits in his hands. His brows furrowed in a look is desperation before his lips wrapped around your stiffened nipples. You moan at the contact, you can feel yourself become even wetter by the second.

You rolled your hips forward, and when you did, you felt the bulge that was begging to be let free from his pants. He moaned instantly when you brushed your core against him.

Poe made a quick decision to stand up, lifting you by your ass, and turned to place you firmly on the cot. Your head was rested on his pillow while he positioned his body above yours. The curl that previously sat on his forehead now dangled above your face, which made you chuckle, but also, he looked so hot like that. The chain of his necklace hung down from his skin, too, something he knew was a huge turn on for you. You liked for him to fuck you while it swung in your face. When he noticed you stare at it, he giggled.

“I know you like that, don’t you?” He smirked. You nodded your head, offering no words, eager for him to proceed.

“Poe” you breath, simultaneously grasping at his belt.

“Be patient, baby” he commanded before attacking your lips again. His tongue forced its way between your lips and explored your mouth freely. Moaning into his mouth only made him kiss you harder. The feeling of his hips rested between your thighs through the layers of both your pants was agonizing. Your knees and thighs tried to push themselves together. He felt this around his hips and pulled his lips from you instantly.

Leaning back onto his knees, he unbuttoned your shorts and slowly slid them and your panties down your thighs. After throwing them onto the floor, he sat there and took a long, sensual look at your naked body, licking his lips at what he saw. At this angle you could clearly see how restricted his cock was for you to observe the long outline.

“Fuck. I missed this view so much princess” he groaned while lowering his body back onto the cot, his face moving in between your thighs. His face was inches from where you were aching for him. “Do your best to be quiet, baby” he lightly laughed through his nose and smiled at you sweetly.

“I don't know if I can but I’ll try” you joked.

And with that, his tongue curled onto your clit, taking you into his mouth. Your body twitched at the sudden sensation you’d been robbed of for weeks. The second he tasted you, a low, gruff moan leapt from his throat. His tongue swirled over your sensitive clit, rhythmically and consistently drawing figures with the tip.

“Fuck, you are so wet already” he took a break to look up at you. Not breaking eye contact, he leaned up to push two fingers into your mouth.

“Suck on them” he demanded. You obeyed and sucked on his coarse fingers. He watched with pleasure as you moistened them in your mouth. He then removed them and replaced his glistened fingers at your entrance. Without hesitation, he pushed them inside of your wet warmth.

“Oh fuck” you sharply moaned. His tongue returned to your clit while he pumped his fingers inside of you. He moaned too, turned on by your pleasurable sounds, sending vibrations across your sensitivity.

Your hands found their way to his head, your fingers locked in his waves of black strands. He curled his two fingers, adding to your pleasure. Already, you feel your climax approaching.

“Poe, I’m close” you announced. He instantly pulled his mouth and fingers from your pussy, causing agony for you. He suddenly crawled up to you, hovering over you. His fingers replaced themselves at your core, but it was his flattened fingers pressed against your clit this time. He began to rub firmly back and forth, responding to how you bucked your hips at his touch, picking back up where you left off.

“I want you to look at me when you cum, baby girl” he growled, face so close to yours, intently staring at your expression while you displayed how good he made you feel.

You felt the tightness bundle between your thighs while his hand set a constant pace that perfectly stimulated your clit. You could feel how intense it was going to be before you even reached your orgasm.

“S-shit” you stuttered, focused on your climax.

“That’s it, yeah” he encouraged you.

It washed over you like an ocean wave. Radiating from the center of your euphoria and spreading across your body. Your attempt to be quiet was weak, your moans and whimpering filled the air of his small room. Neither of you cared anymore who was on the other side. Poe’s eyes never left you while you threw your head back in pleasure. Your legs quivered in his touch as he did not let up once during your orgasm. You think he may have rubbed you faster once you hit your peak, causing a more intense high for you.

A very long ride came down slowly. You tried to catch your breath during the time that Poe slowed his motions and removed it from you.

“God, you look so fucking hot cumming for me, y/n” he cooed in your ear, still hovering above you. His tone grew kinkier by the second.

You giggled, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone any words. Poe pushed himself back into his knees.

While staring deep into your eyes, looking at you with an primal expression that indicated how badly he was about to destroy you, he slowly unbuckled his belt, never breaking eye contact with you. You melted at how fucking hot he looks before his clothes are even completely removed.

His pants meet the ground, his underwear going with it. Seeing his fully erect cock pulled a whimper from your throat. He blushed and pushed a smile from his face.

“On your knees” he commanded, standing next to his cot. He usually wasn’t this demanding during sex, but something seemed a lot more dominant in him tonight. You loved it, so of course you obeyed.

“Yes, sir” you purred at him and got on your knees in front of him.

“Listen to me, baby girl” he started, grabbing the back of your head and tilting it up at him. “Suck daddy’s cock like a good little girl”.

The words leaving his mouth caught you off guard, sent shivers down your spine, and made your clit throb more than it was following your orgasm all at the same time. You’d never heard him talk like that before, nor had he ever mentioned a kink for this. You surely had no objection to going along with it.

You smirked at him, wrapping your fist around his shaft and placing the tip at your extended tongue. You teased him lightly.

“C’mon baby. No teasing” He smirked. You look up at him with baby doll eyes before proceeding.

Giving you no time to cease your teasing, he very suddenly forces his cock to the back of your throat. You gag initially, but adjust quickly to your mouth being completely filled by his length.

“Mmmm” He groaned as he held your mouth steady wrapped around him.

Deep, hungry moans crawled out of his mouth when you began to bob your head back and forth onto his dick. You used your technique that you know drove him crazy, and tried a new motion with your tongue.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, good girl” He reacted instantly, meeting your innocent eyes again. You loved hearing him praise you and encourage you with his moaning.

You add your hands to the bottom section of his length while you continued to swirl your mouth around the top of him.

“So fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby”

You move faster now, paying close attention to the tip, knowing that was his most sensitive spot. His breath hitched, and you could tell he was eager to have himself buried somewhere else inside you.

“But y’know...I think you’d look prettier with my cock in that tight little pussy...you think you can handle that?” He growled at a level of a whisper, his words made you melt. He abruptly removed himself from your mouth and lifted you from the ground and onto the cot.

“Yes, daddy” you purred back at him. Poe’s eyes subtly lit up, he was so glad you were into this, too. He returned you to your position from earlier, comfortably flat on your back, knees up. He loved to start in missionary because he wanted to gaze into your eyes when he first fills you.

He hovered back on top of you, positioning his his hips between thighs, one arm was placed firm in the mattress beside your head, the other trailed up your thigh, soaking in the feeling of your soft skin. Wasting no additional time, the tip of his cock parts your slit and he pushes himself into you.

A sharp, prolonged gasp escaped you as he buried himself completely inside of you, his hips as close to your body as possible.

“God damn, baby girl” his voice turned soft when he truly felt how wet you were for him. He brought motion to his hips and looked down into your eyes. His necklace hung directly above you, swinging with every thrust he took. You watched it, loving the way it looked around his skin. His expression held a look of lust and angst simultaneously, which made your heart beat faster. He dared not to break eye contact with you. Watching your eyes roll back from the pleasure of being fucked by him drove him crazy. And despite the roughness of the passion you were sharing as a result of your time apart, you were still his baby girl and wanted to be as intimate as possible.

“Yes, Poe” you whimpered. A scowl appeared on his face.

“Who? You know my name” he growled at you, pounding your pussy harder with aggression.

“Daddy” you moan, louder.

“Good girl” his voice was so gruff. Suddenly, his hand was wrapped around your throat, applying pressure. You struggle to breath in the most erotic way. Your gasping transformed to whines. Poe loved to watch you wear his fist as a necklace while he fucked you.

“How am I supposed to last, when you look so fucking gorgeous being filled with my cock?” He whispered, lips brushed against your ear, chills erupted down your body. His grip on your neck was released.

“I love you” you mumbled, allowing a grin to develop on your face. You said it out of no where, but you needed him to hear it. Poe’s seductive stare instantly transformed to a smile, as if he was breaking character from the rough exterior he presented.

“I love you, too, y/n” he breathed before kissing you so delicately and slowing his hips. “Now, turn around” he returned to commanding your actions. You get on your hands and knees, backing yourself up to him, craving to be fucked from behind.

No warning was given before he slammed his dick into you again. You cried out, not expecting how good it would feel. At this angle, he reached your sweetest spot with every thrust. You found it impossible to muffle your sounds. He watched as your ass jiggled against him every time your skin touched. His calloused hand motioned circles against your ass cheek, prepping it for what he would do next. He pulled back and brought the flattened palm to meet your skin, slapping it firmly. When you moaned out in response, he did it several more times, and enjoyed every strike against your ass.

“Forget being quiet, I want everyone to hear you getting fucked, got it?” Poe growled. You didn’t hesitate, and released all your expression of ecstasy into the small room, knowing your voice was escaping the walls. His voice joined yours as well, which was music your ears.

He curled his hips into you harder and faster now, his fingertips scratched down the length of your back. When you leaned your head back into it, Poe grabbed the bulk of your hair, using it as a handle while pulling your head back with it.

“Oh, god” you cried as the pleasure became unbearable.

“You like being daddy’s good little slut? Huh?” he grew louder. You melted yet again at him speaking to you like this.

“I do, I love it”

“You wanna cum again, baby girl?”

“p-please” you begged.

“Uh-uh, please, what?”

“Please, daddy, make me cum”

“Well, since you asked so politely” he cooed, bringing his hand around you to rub your clit while he continued to fuck you. Being filled and having your most sensitive area stimulated simultaneously was overwhelming. You could already feel your second orgasm forming in the pit of your belly.

“Fuck, Poe, I’m so close” you desperately whined.

“I’ll let that one slide for now” he scolded for addressing him incorrectly.

You felt your orgasm unravel, spilling over your body and spreading inside you. Your body trembled, unable to handle the overstimulation you experienced. It was longer than before, keeping you in a state of euphoria for what felt like hours.

“Yessss, princess, cum on my cock” he praised.

Riding out the end of your glorious high, you became suddenly aware of how loud you were, but you still didn’t care.

“I’m gonna cum too” his breath grew shaky. “When I pull out, I want you to turn around” Poe instructed. You turned to shake your head in agreement.

And with that, he removed himself, his moans growing choppy. You turned over onto your back as requested and positioned your mouth under his length and extended your tongue.

“Oh fuck” Poe stroked himself over you, crying out deeply in euphoria as he hit his climax. He released his hot cum all over your face, some making it onto your mouth. What was left on your cheeks, you gathered with your thumb, bringing it to your mouth and swallowing it while Poe watched.

He collapsed next to you on the small cot that was barely big enough to fit both of you.

“That was...” you began, struggling to properly describe your satisfaction.

“Incredible” he completed your sentence.

“Yeah” you agreed, a giggle trailing your words. “So that’s how much you missed me, huh?” you teased. Poe pulled you into his arms, your head rested on his chest as it rose and fall with his breathing.

As you tried to catch your breath, you were both jolted by an alarming banging at the door.

Shit.

“Can you guys, uh, maybe keep it down in there?” Finn’s voice travelled through the wall. You looked at Poe, absolutely mortified.

“Yeah, bud, we’ll do our best. Hope you enjoyed the show” Poe yelled, dying of laughter at the situation. But you? Not so much. You’d never look Finn in the eyes again.

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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

omgggg yes number 45 gimme some number 45 obikin PLEASE

ok,,,,,,this is no. 1 Soulmates + no.45 in love with best friend's partner but it kinda got away from me so it's almost 2k and also like there's world-building im awful at snippets. This is obikin but also mentions of qui-gon/anakin BUT it's a fake relationship. it's not in the story, but the premise obi-wan doesn't know is that anakin needed coruscanti citizenship to get their healthcare for his mom, and qui-gon decides to help him out by marrying him to give him automatic citizenship i uh might continue this if people like it because it was fun to write whoops

“We met at the spaceport three days ago,” Anakin says with a demure little smile, curling further into Qui-Gon’s outstretched arm. The soft lamplight glints off the golden band Anakin’s wearing on his finger. Obi-Wan has had a hard time looking anywhere else since arriving in his old master’s quarters, has had a hard time thinking of anything else except that he’d always imagined Anakin wearing a more bronzed shade of gold.

It had been a shock to hear that while Obi-Wan had been out on a mission, Qui-Gon had returned to Coruscant with a husband in tow. Yes, alright, short courtships aren’t rare anywhere in the galaxy, especially between soulmates.

But Obi-Wan knows intimately well--better than anyone else in this room--that Anakin and Qui-Gon aren’t, in fact, soulmates.

Mace seems to be thinking the same thing because he states, with a slight question in his voice, “I was under the impression that your soulmate had passed into the Force, Qui-Gon.”

“We’re not soulmates,” Qui-Gon corrects placidly, arm moving away from Anakin’s shoulders--Obi-Wan can breathe again--so he can fiddle with the cuff around his wrist, which hides the faded name of his mate. “But now that the Jedi Order has lifted its marriage ban for non-Soulmate couples, I thought, why spend the rest of my life alone?”

Anakin catches Qui-Gon’s hand and places a kiss on the back of his fingers. Obi-Wan is going to scream.

When Anakin looks up to the assembled Jedi watching, he doesn’t look at Obi-Wan once. It’s the worst thing in the galaxy, the fact that other than very briefly an hour ago, Anakin hasn’t looked at him at all. It’s been five years. “And I’ve met my soulmate, but they…decided they didn’t want to stay with me, that they didn’t want me.”

Obi-Wan inhales sharply at this and forgets to bite his tongue. “Maybe your soulmate had other obligations that they had to fulfill,” Obi-Wan bites out.

He’d thought Anakin ignoring him had been awful, but that’s nothing compared to the pain of having him look at him with eyes as cold as Hoth. “I think I’d know more about my soulmate than you would, master Jedi. Ah, I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

Obi-Wan almost tells him to check his wrist if he needs a reminder about Obi-Wan’s name, but the words get stuck in his throat.

It’s probably for the best.

Obi-Wan’s spent five years and the duration of a war hiding the name of his soulmate from the Jedi Order, and he can’t say it now. His other half has made it quite clear that he can’t say it now.

“Excuse me,” Obi-Wan says, standing suddenly. He knows he should stay, should sit through the rest of the intake interview the Council gives to all non-Jedi sentients that marry a Jedi, soulmates or no, but he can’t. He’s the youngest person to sit on the Council in written history, he’s survived a war, trained the stubbornest Padawan of her generation, and this--this--looking across the table at Anakin Skywalker, dolled up and petty and full of hatred for him as he wears another man’s ring, Obi-Wan’s former master’s ring--this is going to be the thing that kills him.

Luckily, no one tries to stop him as he leaves. Maybe they think he’s just reacting to the fact that his fifty-eight year old master came home with a twenty-five year old husband. Maybe everything he’s feeling is written out on his face. Maybe he should never have tried to hide Anakin away. Maybe he should have called for extraction from his deep cover mission as soon as their hands had touched and their soulmarks had appeared. Maybe these past seven years should never have happened.

Force knows Obi-Wan would sleep easier if he had never walked into that Tatooine bar. If he had never met Anakin Skywalker.

He tries to meditate in his favorite spot in the Room of A Thousand Fountains, but it’s an impossible task. Mostly, he sits in a classic lotus position and broods.

A few hours later, when Obi-Wan thinks he’s recovered some of his composure, the person who’s always been able to ruin it sits himself down in front of him with a lot of unnecessary noise.

“When you talked about this place, I thought it sounded like the biggest waste of water in the entire galaxy,” Anakin’s voice sounds...normal. Like they’re picking up the thread of a conversation they had just dropped a moment ago, as if five years and a wedding and a war don’t stretch between them.

But if Anakin wants to talk to Obi-Wan like they had before, he’ll try his hardest to meet him there. Slowly, he opens his eyes. Anakin’s lounging back, still wearing the ceremonial robes of a Jedi’s bride, the loose blue silk barely hanging onto one of his shoulders. Obi-Wan wants to close his eyes again, immediately. “The greenery wouldn’t be able to survive without the water.”

Anakin nods, looking around as if slightly disinterested by it all. When he’d been eighteen, he’d soaked up every story Obi-Wan could tell him about the Temple, about the Jedi. Those piercing blue eyes find him again. It’s as if he knows Obi-Wan’s thoughts, because he smiles in the most humorless way. “I used to think I’d live here, and then I could see for myself if the beauty was worth the excess.”

“And?” Obi-Wan asks. It’s all he can get out of his throat. It’s very clear what Anakin isn’t saying. That he used to think he’d live here with Obi-Wan. That they'd be--that they'd be.

“Now I understand that there’s no winning that argument. What one man sees as a waste, another might see as a treasure.”

Obi-Wan can’t do this. He thought--maybe he could--but. He can’t. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, moving to stand on his feet. “I hate to leave, but I must attend to--”

Anakin scrambles to his feet and latches onto Obi-Wan’s covered wrist. “Do you?” he asks intently, his hold tightening. “Did you?”

“This--this is most inappropriate, Chosen Skywalker, please remove yourself from my person.”

Anakin, blast him, moves even closer. Obi-Wan wonders if he can hear his heartbeat from that far away or if it’s just in Obi-Wan’s ears. “You have to tell me,” he demands. He’s always demanded things from Obi-Wan. Stories, and kisses, and comfort, and promises. Obi-Wan had given him everything he’d asked for, up until the very end.

Unsurprisingly, nothing has changed.

“Tell you what,” Obi-Wan snaps, yanking his wrist away from Anakin’s touch. Even through the covering, his skin feels burned. “Tell you that I hated having to leave you? Tell you that I’ve thought about you every night since then? Tell you that there was a war, that I had to fight, that I didn’t choose to go? That I had a duty to the galaxy, to the Jedi, to my family?”

“You had a duty to me!” Anakin snarls back, squaring his shoulders and shoving forward into Obi-Wan’s space. “I was your soulmate and you left me and I waited and you never once called me, never once tried to visit! And then the war ended and you never came back!” His voice breaks and the flood of words Obi-Wan desperately does not want to hear breaks with it for just a second. “Why didn’t you come back? I don’t...I don’t care that you had to fight. I knew I couldn’t leave with you, not until I had freed my mom. But you just. You left.”

“I’m not the same man I was, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says softly. His voice shakes and he has to turn his head away from his soulmate’s watery blue eyes. “The war--it changed me. It hurt, to fight and kill and strategize on how to more effectively fight and kill the next day. Four years of that, and I knew at the end I wasn’t fit to be anyone’s soulmate, least of all yours.”

When Obi-Wan had first met him, Anakin had been laughing. His head had been tipped back, curls falling over his shoulders. The noise had been loud and honest. He’d been radiant in the Force. It had taken weeks for Obi-Wan to really believe something so bright could be the other half of his soul.

“I wanted to,” Obi-Wan whispers. “Every night I wanted to, and it only got harder after the war ended. I never stopped wanting to. Wanting you.”

“How am I supposed to believe you?” Anakin asks. Obi-Wan wants to ask him why it matters if he believes him or not, but Anakin’s words from earlier float back to him. They decided they didn’t want to stay with me, that they didn’t want me. He can’t let Anakin continue to think Obi-Wan didn’t want him, not when he wanted him so badly he ached from it.

With shaking fingers, he moves to pull down the collar of his robes, just far enough that he can pull out the japor snippet he’s worn around his neck since the day Anakin gave it to him. He slowly lifts it over his head and presents it to his soulmate. Anakin’s eyes are wide with wonder as he stares down at the necklace, worm almost smooth by how often Obi-Wan had rubbed the carving with his thumb. “Always, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmurs, reaching out to grab Anakin’s hand and dropping the wood carving into his palm. He carefully folds the man’s lax fingers around the necklace.

Hating himself for doing it, but needing to do it anyway, he brushes his lips over his fingers in a ghost of a kiss. Beneath his mouth, the wedding band feels warm from Anakin’s body heat. It’s a shockingly cold reminder.

“May the Force bless you and your Chosen, and reunite you at every end of your every day,” Obi-Wan whispers the Council’s official blessings for newly-wed couples into Anakin’s skin.This is the last time he’s ever going to touch him. He doesn’t want to let go.

He must. He does.

#qui-gon definitely knew anakin was obi-wans soulmate when they started talking #he was like my dumb former padawan will not let himself be happy #so im going to wingman the shit out of him #by marrying his soulmate so they have to see each other again #and hopefully even talk about everything!#this cannot possibly go wrong #(it did)#but obi-wan and anakin end up together because qui-gon and anakin have their marriage annulled to the relief of everyone #asks #obikin #my fics #if all these prompts are going to be 1500 + words I do not know how fast i will finish them #but im trying #it's doing wonders for my writers block #prompt fill

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phy-be · 3 years

Text

| treasured | a david/genya fic

my participation to the mini-bang for @grishaversebigbang ♡ This was so fun to write, and a million thank you to my two wonderful materialki! Please check out their amazing work:

@nuclearnik [link] @zemenipearls [link]

Rating: General Audiences Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, proposal, set between Ruin and Rising and King of Scars, Canon Compliant, david is a nerd and he loves his soul mate very very much, cw: nerdy descriptions of rocks, Grishaverse Minibang Summary:

“David, you didn’t have to…”

He frowned and cocked his head. “Yes, I did. It’s customary to gift a ring when asking someone’s hand in marriage.”

He was never good at understanding social norms, but he was pretty sure he’d gotten that one right.

David pressed the button on the side of his microscope goggles, switching the lens to a more magnifying glass. In the palm of his gloved hand, a crystal gleamed, like sparks of purple fire trapped in stone. The light hit each of its faces in slightly different ways, creating an explosion of colours and geometrical shapes. It was even more beautiful seen up close, when David could not only admire the beauty of the thing, but also the elegant laws of science that made the light refract just so.

Crystals were complicated to work with. Their beauty was due to a highly specific geometry at the molecular level, and any careless alteration could damage their inner core, breaking the stone or making it duller. Even if some were strong enough to cut glass, crystals were precious; they needed to be handled with the utmost care.

David loved working on crystals.

His quiet work was interrupted by anguished sobs coming from the bed.

Quickly, he slipped the stone in a bit of fabric and rushed from his desk. Genya was having another nightmare. Throwing off his glasses and gloves, he hurried to find her on the bed. He took her in a protective embrace as she sobbed, screamed, legs jerking in panic. She clawed at the air around, desperately chasing off a horde of invisible nichevo'ya.

“Stop,” she begged. She wasn’t talking to him.

David held her tighter. Every time he saw her this way, so anguished and pained, helpless to her inner demons, a bitter guilt settled in him, consigned in a single thought: I should have protected her.

Then the guilt faded into hot-white anger — at the Darkling, who had done this to her, who had known how much it would hurt and keep hurting her — until David discarded that emotion, too. Rage and regret were not useful feelings to linger on. Helping Genya get through this, making her pain more bearable — these were the only things that mattered.

Eventually her movements calmed, her hiccupping sobs turning into shallow breaths and silent tears. David caressed her hair, the auburn locks softer than any silk he’d ever felt, and dropped feather-light kisses on her forehead. Genya nestled closer to him, burying her face in his neck. He could feel the wetness of her tears trickling on his skin.

“You’re safe, dear,” he whispered, knowing that he would do everything in his power to make sure this would always be true, from now on. “You’re safe.”

Her grip tightened on his shirt.

“W-were you awake?” she said, her voice still shaken.

David recognized the change of topic as her way to distract herself from the nightmares that lingered in her wakefulness. He played along.

“Yes,” he said, kissing her hair. “I was working late.”

“It’s almost morning,” she murmured. “You work late a lot lately.”

“I’m working on a project.”

“What project?”

David hesitated; Tamar had said he was supposed to keep it a secret. Keeping anything from Genya was hard enough normally, but when she was vulnerable like this, it was downright impossible.

He got up to get the piece of fabric — Genya followed him out of bed, not wanting to let go of his embrace, and he smiled, endeared. Gently, he led her back to the bed, sat next to her, and put his creation in her open palms.

“It’s not finished,” he warned.

Genya carefully unwrapped the silk. Her eyes widened at the sight of the ring, a glistening band of grisha steel wrapping like branches around a rose-shaped stone. When she turned it to get a better look, the candlelight shining through the crystal switched its colour from red, to purple, to blue.

“I altered the refracting index at different levels of the structure to make the crystal polychromatic,” David explained, excited in spite of himself. “I’ve done this with metals before, but never with crystal. It still needs polishing before I can give it to you, though.”

Genya’s eyebrow shot up, looking shocked. “This is for me?”

“Of course.” He admired the ring against Genya’s hand, as beautiful as he’d expected. It would be perfect once she wore it. Silver and red always complemented her pale, rosy skin, the way gold and purple complemented the bronze colour of his own.

“David, you didn’t have to…”

He frowned and cocked his head. “Yes, I did. It’s customary to gift a ring when asking someone’s hand in marriage.”

He was never good at understanding social norms, but he was pretty sure he’d gotten that one right.

“Y-you’re—” Genya croaked, her skin visibly flushed, “you’re proposing to me?”

“Not right now,” David corrected. “Tamar told me it had to be a special moment, so I’m still working on the details of that.”

He’d been thinking of doing it at sunset, for one. The fiery hues of the sky when the sun slipped under the horizon always reminded him of Genya’s hair, and it would look good on the ring. He’d calculated which part of the palace would be the most adequate spot — a corner of the Summoner’s field provided the perfect exposure for the ring to reflect sunrays and shimmer beautifully — but he needed a reason to bring Genya there that wouldn’t alarm her. Tamar had suggested a picnic, which David had found confusing since they never ate on the training grounds, but Genya did enjoy it when he cooked for her.

His thoughts came to a brutal halt when he realized Genya was crying.

David blinked. Had he done something wrong? He was always so bad at this stuff — he couldn’t count how many times he’d offended someone without meaning to, but Genya usually saw past his awkwardness and understood his meaning.

“Genya…” he said, hesitant, “I’m sorry, did I…”

“You’d want to marry me?” she sniffled, eyes cast down, tears gliding down her cheeks.

David was even more confused. Tamar’s advice hadn’t covered that part. “Yes. Of course.” Had that not been clear?

“Why?” Genya met his gaze. “Why would you… We haven’t even been together that long, you can’t know —”

Like the unknotting of a rope, suddenly, David understood. This was just like the imagined nichevo'ya. She was panicked, sure that the worst was yet to come, that she couldn’t be safe in her own home.

Softly, he cupped her cheeks, bringing her closer. He wished he could take some of the burden that weighed on her, carry it on his shoulders instead of hers, for once; wished he knew the right words to make her feel better, the perfect formula to soothe her fear. But this burden was Genya’s, and David was never good with words. All he could say was the truth.

“I agree that our romantic relationship has not been exceedingly long,” he admitted. A year only accounted for a twentieth of their age so far. Five percent of a life, and some change. “But I have been in love with you for seven years, five months, and twelve days. Our friendship is even older than that,” he pressed his forehead against hers, “and I’ve wanted to marry you from the first time you kissed me.”

His lips brushed hers, an echo of that day at the Spinning Wheel, when the bravest woman in the world had first chosen him.

“I realized at the time that this wasn’t a rational impulse,” he conceded, “so I waited to see how our companionship would grow. I believe I’ve now waited long enough to know. I feel at peace in your company, and I want to make you as happy as you make me.” He pulled back a little, retreating his hands. “Unless you do not want that, in which case I will respect—”

Before he could finish, Genya pulled him into a kiss — the dizzying, head-spinning kind of kiss he’d only ever experienced with her. When she kissed him like that, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, lips flush and panting, David’s usually overworking mind would quiet, snuffed out like the wick of a candle, replaced only by her . Soft hair, delicate skin, lips scarred and still wonderful, her scent a unique aroma he’d come to associate with peace, with home.

“Of course I want to,” she whispered against his lips, smiling coyly.

David kissed that smile, then her cheek, then her temple. “I’m relieved to hear that,” he sighed. “I’ll keep working on that proposal, then.”

Genya laughed, sweet and bright — David didn’t care much for music, but he could have listened to Genya’s laugh for hours. He tucked the ring back in the fabric and put it on the nightstand, where it wouldn’t get lost in the sheets, then took off his shoes and his shirt.

They lied together, Genya’s body half on top of his, snuggling close, as though any space between them might bring in the cold.

Genya brushed her fingers on David’s chest, tracing some patterns.

“So,” she said, her voice now clearer, more sure of herself — Genya in daylight, where the monsters couldn’t touch her. “What was that about seven years, five months, and twelve days?”

“Oh, hm…” David said. He could feel his face heat up, and felt irrationally glad for the brown of his skin, unlikely to show any hint of a blush.

Still, he told her the story of that day. Genya had visited the Fabrikator’s laboratory to make a new cosmetic for the queen. She’d been thirteen years old, and already so creative with her powers. At the time David had only reproduced what his masters had taught him as perfectly as he could, never trying to invent, to create.

But there had been Genya Safin, the first of her kind, inventing everything she did.

It wasn’t the first time they’d met, not even the first time they’d enjoyed each other’s company, but it was the first time David had watched her work. He hadn't even bothered saying hi (which he now realized had been rather rude), too eager to ask her question about her experiment. They’d talked, and when David had gone on a long tangent about his favourite way to colour glass, Genya hadn’t been bored or made fun of his enthusiasm, the way the other students usually did if they bothered to listen to him at all.

She’d listened with care and attention, and then she’d given him her opinion — smart, succinct. Perfect.

“How do you even remember the day this happened?” Genya laughed. “It was so long ago.”

David caressed her shoulder, a soothing, circular motion. “I remember everything, when it comes to you.”

“Cheesy,” she grinned.

“Maybe.” He felt his lips quirk in a smile of his own. “But it’s true.”

She rose up to look at him, her expression turning serious.

“I love you,” she said, the words like a promise. “For even longer than that.”

Gently, David took her wrist, and kissed her palm. “Now, let’s not make it a competition.”

“Wise. You know I’d win.”

“My dear,” he smiled against her hand, “I think I share this victory with you.”

#grishabigbang21 #minibang #grishaverse #david / genya #denya #david kostyk #genya safin

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ta-ether · 3 years

Text

Something I’ve been thinking about lately is Achilles and Patroclus’ relationship. Not in how it’s presented in any particular property – this isn’t an analysis of how they appear in The Song of Achilles, or Hades – but more how their relationship is in the Iliad.

I guess the thing that’s been in the back of my mind ever since I read the Iliad (god, was it the summer before junior year of high school?) seven or so years ago, is that while Achilles and Patroclus are held up as this wonderfully romantic couple, this often comes at people glossing over certain aspects of their relationship that are complex or ask questions that have hard answers. Namely, the one that’s been niggling at me is the question that if Achilles is supposed to have loved Patroclus so much, why did he let him go out to fight?

The wonderful thing about Homer, the thing I so desperately love about Homer, is that there is such ambiguity to things. Homer seems to deliberately sidestep giving us concrete answers. The Iliad is a poem that thrives on nuance, and that extends to the exact nature of the relationship between these characters.

While Achilles swears early in the Iliad he won’t fight until his dignity is restored, Patroclus has a much softer heart (in addition to not having been wronged by Agamemnon). Patroclus’ arc from Book 1 to the beginning of 16 is watching the effect Achilles’ absence has on the rest of the Acheans. Achilles himself retreats into his ship and sends Patroclus out for news of how the battles are going, meaning it is Patroclus who is privy to the pain being wrought, and it is also Patroclus who Nestor eventually asks to intercede on the Argives’ behalf.

After the Trojans start seizing the Achean’s ships in Book 15, Patroclus finally goes and asks Achilles if he’ll return to the battle, or failing that, if he can go in his place and armor. He runs up and Achilles asks him why he’s crying like a little girl. Patroclus starts by saying “don’t be angry with me,” but then quickly himself becomes angry at Achilles after explaining how all of their friends and allies are wounded and suffering on the battlefield:

“But it’s impossible to deal with you, Achilles. I hope anger like this rage you’re nursing never seizes me. It’s disastrous! How will you be of use to anyone in later generations, if you won’t keep shameful ruin from the Argives? You’re pitiless. Perhaps horseman Peleus was not your father, nor Thetis your mother— the grey sea delivered you, some tall cliff, for you’ve an unyielding heart.”

He finishes by putting forth Nestor’s suggestion that if Achilles won’t rejoin the fight, he should. “I could be a saving light for the Danaans,” he says. Achilles responds that since the Trojans have come to the ships, he will allow Patroclus to go out in his armor. Now, this is where, famously, Achilles tells him not to go press past the ships:

“Now, pay attention to what I tell you about the goal I have in mind for you, so you’ll win me great honour and rewards, so all Danaans will send back to me that lovely girl and give fine gifts as well. Once you push Trojans from the ships, come back. If Zeus, Hera’s mate, who loves his thunder, gives you the glory, don’t keep on battling those war-loving Trojans with me absent. You would decrease my honours.”

While Achilles is undoubtedly worried about Patroclus’ safety, he mentions his desire for the honor and rewards that his “returning” to battle would bring him. He also brings up (before he says Apollo might make an attempt on Patroclus’ life) that the reason he wants Patroclus to retreat is that it would decrease his own honors. You can chalk this focus on the honor he may or may not receive to many different things, the most charitable of which is that Achilles isn’t taking this very seriously, and perhaps neither is Patroclus. This is backed up by Patroclus’ flippant approach on the battlefield:

“Well now, there’s an agile man! What a graceful diver! […] I suppose these Trojans must have acrobats as well.”

The point still remains that for all the love that Achilles has for Patroclus, his first instinct – like it has been for the entirety of the Iliad to this point – is concern about his own pride and honor, not the safety of his closest friend or fellow Argives. War takes, but Achilles was more focused on what it gives, and then it took his closest companion.

While Patroclus has more of an idea of the horrors of what the Achaeans have been going through in recent books – specifically Book 11 – he still hasn’t been on the field of battle since before the Iliad started. Patroclus pushes on beyond the ships because of his desire to fight and his own refusal to stop, and it is for this reason he is killed by Hector and Apollo. The narrative remarks:

“How blind he was, poor fool! If he’d done what the son of Peleus had told him, he’d have missed his evil fate, his own dark death.”

We learn later from Patroclus’ ghost in Book 23 that one of his flaws, perhaps his greatest and deadliest, is that he can become blinded by passion and lose reason.

“I killed Amphidamas’ son, in my foolishness. I didn’t mean to, but I was enraged over some game of dice.”

The narrative and Patroclus himself admits that if he’d taken a moment to consider, to think rationally, he wouldn’t have felt the need to continue fighting the Trojans, or to kill Amphidames’ son. The thrill of war and perhaps his own desire for honors hid this from him, and this in effect kills him.

As I alluded to earlier, this isn’t something I think many people touch on when thinking about Achilles and Patroclus’ relationship: the idea that ultimately, it was perhaps Achilles who killed Patroclus – or at the very least, lead to his death. The Iliad does start like this, after all:

“Sing, Goddess, sing the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus— that murderous anger which condemned Achaeans to countless agonies and threw many warrior souls deep into Hades, leaving their dead bodies carrion food for dogs and birds— all in fulfilment of the will of Zeus.”

One of those souls sent to Hades was Patroclus. Achilles even acknowledges this in Book 18.

“Then let me die, since I could not prevent the death of my companion. He’s fallen far from his homeland. He needed me there to protect him from destruction.”

Patroclus’ death isn’t tragic merely because he died, but because the man who loved him could’ve protected him but didn’t, and he knows it. I don’t want to downplay Patroclus’ own hubris’ role in his death or place all the blame on Achilles – merely point out that for all the love Achilles had for Patroclus, he still didn’t go out to fight when asked: first by his friends and allies, and then by his closest companion. He instead lets Patroclus go out in his place. Achilles’ love ultimately wasn’t stronger than his own pride.

This isn’t to say there’s not a deep, meaningful relationship between these two characters. There clearly, textually is. These two people love each other, however that love is interpreted. But they are also deeply flawed people. And, for all his faults, Patroclus knows that about Achilles. He knew that Achilles might put his own pride over the lives of all the Argives, including him, and so he asked if he could go instead. Even Hector knows this, as before he kills him he says:

“You poor wretch, even Achilles, for all his courage, was no use to you. Though he stayed behind, he must have given you strict orders as you left.”

And, for what it’s worth, Patroclus doesn’t say that he blames Achilles, either here in front of Hector, or when he comes to Achilles as a shade in Book 23 (and characters in the Iliad are decently prone to blaming people for their deaths). Ultimately, he seems to accept Achilles, flaws and all, and desires for them to be reunited in death, as does Achilles.

Their relationship isn’t simple and it’s not straightforward, because these characters aren’t simple or straightforward. Achilles both loves Patroclus more than any other Argive including himself, and also loves his own honor and pride over Patroclus. The incapability of these loves directly leads to Patroclus’ death. Patroclus is also more measured and rational than Achilles, and also is clouded to reason, and this incompatibility leads to his death. If the point of the Odyssey is (in part) that the Trojan War caused unnecessary death, then perhaps Patroclus’ death is that in microcosm.

Still, I can’t help but read Achilles and Patroclus’ relationship as one that – to be blunt – failed. They couldn’t make it work, in life at least. If you read it as a sexual-romantic relationship, maybe that’s its own tragedy. I don’t say this to make people angry or even because I necessarily wholly believe it, but more because their relationship is imperfect and should be recognized as such. Personally, I think this relationship, broken but full of love and affection and flaws, is much more compelling than a perfect or unexamined one.

It goes back to why I love the Iliad in the first place: the characters are messy and rather than this detracting from their ability to impact the reader, it only heightens their ability to speak to us. Homer doesn’t provide concrete answers for things, but he doesn’t have to. Everything we need is on the page. Every time you return to the book, the characters show you something new. I noticed a ton of new things about Achilles and Patroclus while writing this, which really only strengthened my belief in the points I made here. The tragedy of Patroclus’ death is, in part, one of how pride hurts those you love the most. The idea that Achilles caused Patroclus’ death is one that shouldn’t go unexamined because it’s perhaps unsavory, because it is in examining it that the true depths of their relationship are brought to light.

There are so many more things I could’ve mentioned: Achilles and Patrolcus’ status as equals, the role the idea of “fate” plays in Patroclus’ death, how the role the gods play in Patroclus’ death effects all this – but I felt that I would let those be for perhaps another time. As it stands now, I feel as though I have (at least personally) answered my initial question. It’s not a simple answer, but it wasn’t a simple question about simple characters in a simple work. And that is both fine and also, in its own way, beautiful.

#the iliad #iliad #achilles #patroclus #patrochilles #patroclus x achilles #achilles x patroclus #yelling into the void #im only sort of sorry for the amount of quotations this is even after editing them down #taessays

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belit0 · 3 years

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@heavensbabygirl

I just found out your blog and I'm in love with it 🥺💞 your writing is really good. If it's not much of a trouble I'd like to ask for a headcanon or scenario about the uchihas (whoever you'd like to choose but pls do Madara 🙏🙏) finding out that their uchiha lover is more powerful than them.

Sorry for my english and thank you so much 🥰🥰

Welcome to my little spot ✨🖤 all my love to you!! Thank you so much, you made my day saying that my writing is really good 😭 here you go beautiful soul, Uchiha shower 4 u✨

Indra

This man would be angry, really fuming at the situation. Whoever it is, no one can dare to be stronger than him, unless they are looking to risk their lives.

He goes away for days without explanation after discovering the power of his beloved, and is consumed with indignation and anger. Just because someone has a minimal place in his life does not give that person the right to humiliate him.

When he returns he is surrounded by a terribly dark aura, something frightening and terrifying. The man who dominated his lover on the floor during their training to end up getting one’ s mouth on an intimate kiss… no longer exists.

His countenance is apprehensive, hard and cold.“ We’ll fight, right now. ”

During the battle, it is clear from the first moment that Indra does not hold back one bit. His intentions are in fact murderous. Even if he is confronting his lover, the fact that the latter has disrespected him in this way… he will not tolerate it.

He is clearly stronger than before his departure, and it is obvious that his absence was to improve and overcome his partner.

He did indeed succeed. Without remorse he strikes his lover one last time, leaving one on the verge of death on the floor. “Never dare to believe that you can be on top of me. Know your place or die before me.”

He hovers over his beloved and kisses with possessiveness.

Madara

Unlike the previous man, Madara finds the situation stimulating. A new challenge? Of course he will face it.

After his lover has imposed itself on him, when normally one would have given in to his overwhelming force, he gets up from the floor and shakes the dust off his clothes with a measured calm.

This Uchiha has a plan for everything. He knows it, and his partner knows it.

He knows how to recognize power when he sees it or experiences it, Madara is no fool. In his heart he is excited to find someone to defeat other than Hashirama.

The latter makes things go out of control…

Uchiha’s honour is above all else, and while he knows how to recognise a good opponent, let it be his partner who knocks him down, it makes him conflict. He dominates and manages, roles must be re-established.

Madara will not allow the fight to end until he succeeds in regaining superiority. Never.

His mate ends up letting themselves be defeated only so that the man stops trying to hit them.

Izuna

To be defeated? By whom should admire and love him? That just doesn’t add up. The only one who can be stronger than him is his big brother.

This Uchiha is… an immature child. If someone managed to beat him and by chance it is not Madara, it is because that person is probably cheating, using some trick. He doesn’t fail, least of all his skills. He will never admit it. (Questions about the incident with Tobirama? He let himself be beaten out of pity 😉)

For days, any minimal activity with his lover becomes a challenge. Walking in the woods? Let’s see who reaches that tree first. Lift the dishes from the table? Whoever picks up the most is the winner. Swim in the river? Whoever touches the other bank first beats the other.

He will do what he deems necessary to show that he is better than his partner, playing dirty is in his plans.When he finds that his lover is training alone, he bothers them, talking to them while they meditate and distracting them when they want to concentrate. That won’t happen.

Izuna knows that it’s difficult to reach his partner’s level, so he turns to Madara for help. His skill level easily increases when it comes to fighting his brother.

Finally, he challenges his partner to fight again. When things end in a draw, he can’t say he’s happy, but he’s… calm.

Obito

He is immediately surprised by the strength of his lover. He feels proud. How was it possible for him to get someone capable of surpassing him?

A tear of pain at the blows he received escapes his eyes. He does not feel the need to keep his guard up when he is with the person he loves. “I’m fine… that was… wow.”

He feels disappointed with himself for not being attentive enough to detect his partner’s true potential. He mentally notes that he must be more observant in the future.

He gets up from where he landed because of the beating he received and waits for his beloved partner to wrap up in a hug. “You sure are strong, huh?”

He allows his loving one to heal his wounds, and expresses the admiration he feels growing inside his chest at the power he has witnessed.

“… I’m just… I’m happy that you’re the one to help me continue the Uchiha legacy, you know?”

Shisui

He bursts into a nervous laugh when he realizes that he almost didn’t avoid his partner’s death blow. He have never been so grateful for his body flicker.

Shisui is absent-minded when it comes to things that have nothing to do with his work, but… he never believed that so much that he did not notice the overwhelming power of his lover.

His agility makes it impossible for punches or catches, but the Uchiha is aware that, if he drops the pace at which he is teleporting, he will be caught by one of those terrifying blows. He is impressed and makes the most of the situation to investigate the new skill his lover shows.

He is really enjoying himself. Teasing others is part of his being and… seeing his partner get frustrated at not being able to reach him, laughter is inevitable.

Until a blow hits him in one of his carelessness and his mocking is history. The only person who laughs now is the one who loves him, watching him grunt in pain.

Itachi

This man… this man always knew. Who are we kidding?

The Uchiha was waiting for the moment his partner thought it was time to reveal their true power. He was always aware that the other person was holding back when they were fighting together.

He feels vaguely insulted by his partner’s hidden ability. Does this person think that he is weak? Does this person think that he will not be able to bear it? He is determined.

Itachi strikes even harder until his lover has no choice but to give everything. He is truly overwhelmed by the person next to him when he is defeated.

"There’s no need to hold back on me… please.”

From that phrase, his partner fights with their full power, and Itachi learns from each encounter something new. Not only in the context of the confrontations, but also of the personality and mannerisms of his beloved.

With each beating he receives, he falls even more deeply in love with the person next to him.

#uchiha clan #uchiha madara #uchiha izuna #uchiha obito #uchiha shisui #uchiha itachi #otsutsuki indra #uchiha headcanons #madara #izuna #obito #shisui #itachi #indra otsutsuki #naruto shippuden #naruto imagines

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