#//i have more than this i just want to dole them out slowly
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I'm adopting out shiny pokémon!
Hey all! Some of you may know I'm studying the environmental variables that cause pokémon to become shiny. Well, in doing this research I find a lot of shinies too! I know not everyone can afford to purchase a shiny from a breeder or has the time to hunt one in the wild, so I'm giving away the ones I find!
Send me a DM if you're interested in one of the shinies I have available. If you'd like me to hunt something for you, I'm willing to do so depending on what it is, so just ask~!
Currently available shinies: eevee, curly tatsugiri x3, droopy tatsugiri x5, breloom, swablu, dedenne, psyduck x2, venomoth x2, murkrow
#shiny pokemon#pokeblogging#pokemon irl#irl pokemon#rotomblr#original content#//hi. this is real btw. i will give away shinies#//please take them my boxes are full#//i have more than this i just want to dole them out slowly
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have to talk about Sam and Evan and Jammer and K and the genius character choices made in the previous episode because it was all so good. It was so goo. Evan Kelmp fucking died. Holy shit.
We're going to start with Evan, because he's the one who died and I can't stop thinking about the image of Shadow Evan slowly collecting his things that K threw around and putting on his nice shoes. Putting his belongings back in his backpack because even if he's dead his things matter because they were the only things he had. Brennan's acting in that moment as well, stretching his arms out to mimic a shadow's distortion in a two-dimensional space and being so confused and out of it for the first several minutes due to shock. He wants to be alive, to be good, to have friends, but he can't even consider the idea that they might want him back. He can't think too hard about whether he truly belongs to them the way they belong to him.
Sam, who loved Evan so deeply that even when he is literally a shadow of himself she smiles at him like he is the whole world. Jammer is freaking out and K can't look at him at all but Sam sees him, knows him, and loves him, any amount of him she can have because Shadow Evan is better than Dead Evan. She's scared but she knows he must be even more scared then she is so when he asks if she can carry him of course she says yes. Danielle Radford I love you and your choice to have radical compassion, such a deep kindness and care within Sam that se does everything within her power to bring Evan back, being careful and risking nothing because she can't just leave her friend like that and she can't lose him. Sam builds the community around herself through that same compassion, helps everyone, loves everyone, but in this episode the full force of that love is narrowed to only focus on Evan and getting him back no matter what.
Fucking Whitney Jammer. "We'll body it." I think about that scene from s1 every single day and that is exactly what he did. Oh, Evan died? We'll fucking fix it. That's the mission now. We'll body it. He made a promise and he's going to keep it. He's furious, and I feel like while he may not have known where to direct it in the moment he may end up having conflict with K because of what happened. Also, just the image of Jammer, not facing his friends and not wanting to turn around to see what happened because if he sees it then its real, then when he does turn around just doing the only thing he knows how to do, taking care of his team.
And K. K, my beloved... Erika Ishii is a genius in every season, every campaign, every role, but I love this new version of K who just can't deal with the idea that they are not a one-man army. They can not fix the world, they can not be as isolationist as they have always wanted to be, they can not single-handedly dole out justice in every situation. They are not the secret dark chosen one who's extra special. They need their friends, their people, need their network. They can't look at Shadow Evan because they know the whole time that it's their fault. They did it again, they broke magic, they killed Evan. They always make the wrong move. I think a lot of this season for them is going to be about slowing down, being forced to take things one step at a time, accepting help, and eventually rebuilding confidence.
#dimension 20#d20#fantasy high#moss speaks#dimension 20 spoilers#mismag2#d20 mismag#misfits and magic#mismag#misfits and magic spoilers#misfits and magic 2#mismag2 spoilers#mismag 2#evan kelmp#sam black#sam britain#whitney jammer#k tanaka#brennan lee mulligan#bleem#aabria iyengar#lou wilson#erika ishii#danielle radford
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Partners 🌧️⚗️🗒️
James is the last person Lily expects to visit when she's ill in the Hospital Wing, but the new Head Boy has more than one surprise for her. For Jily Week 2024, Day 2: Partners in Crime. Or - in this case - in being head students :') @sunshinemarauder @kay-elle-cee
read it on ao3 or under the cut!
Rain splattered the windows of the Hospital Wing, droplets glistening in the autumnal light of late afternoon, and Lily groaned as she hefted herself onto her elbows, the aniseed aftertaste of Madam Pomfrey’s last potion lingering on her tongue. Her head was foggy, her bones hurt right to their marrow, and Pomfrey herself had put her on strict bedrest, but some things couldn’t wait. It was just her luck to fall ill in only the third week of seventh year; right as the assignments were doled out and the prefects grew needy. She adjusted the pillow behind her back and reached for the wheeled table, pulling it up the bed towards her. Mary had promised to bring her notes from a few of their subjects, but there were several the two didn’t share; and there were three notes that had been left by prefects while she’d been asleep. She yawned, wishing she could have some kind of caffeine, but Madam Pomfrey insisted it interacted poorly with the antidotes she was taking. Of course. She stretched, arching her back, and decided to take a look at the prefects’ notes first. The first was from the mousey new Hufflepuff girl. She smoothed it out, ready to read.
“No.”
“Sorry?” Lily’s head bolted upright, forming a retort to whoever had arrived to boss her around – she was Head Girl, thanks, and her bout of illness had rather shortened her temper. She stopped the moment she saw who it was. “James.”
He leaned over her, black hair rumpled, still in his school robes – lessons would have not long finished, Lily supposed. His hazel eyes crinkled along with his clear smile, and his glasses slipped down his face as his gaze met hers.
“I said no,” he repeated easily, nodding towards the note. “Fairview, right? I headed her off already. She should���ve come to me in the first place, mind – I told them to, but no. Can’t have prefects with common sense – might break the system, I’m afraid.” And before she could protest, he flicked his wand with a muttered spell. The note caught flame. Lily gaped at him, shock and amusement battling within her.
“You shouldn’t do that,” she said, with no real weight. James shrugged and sat down gently on the bed, by her knees.
“She shouldn’t rabbit on so much.”
“Some prefects do have common sense,” Lily added, rubbing her throat and raising her eyebrows. James squinted one eye, tilting his head.
“Hmm,” he said slowly. “…Nah, I don’t think so. Nobody with common sense is doing work when they’re in the bloody Infirmary, are they?”
Lily huffed instead of replying properly, feeling strangely… touched, by James’s handling of it. By all rights, he was as in charge as she was, so he ought to be sharing the load – but when she’d discovered he’d be at her side this year, she’d not expected him to take it seriously. It was supposed to be just another feather in his cap – Quidditch Captain, Head Boy, Special Services to the School… A year ago, she wouldn’t have thought he’d ever bother to learn the name of a girl like Maisie Fairview.
“McGonagall wants an essay on mid-weight Conjuration by next Thursday, but I talked to her and she knows you’re in here, so she said you’ve got ‘til the Monday after,” James started absently, grabbing the pitcher of water. Without asking, he filled two glasses and offered her one.
“Thanks,” said Lily, surprised. With the first sip she relaxed; it was cool on her raw throat.
“I’ve got notes from Defence too – you can have them when you get out,” James said, wagging a finger at her, “not in here. Metaphysical properties of defensive spells. Proctor’s real into theory. S’pose they didn’t want another Auror sort, after last year. If I ever get my hands on Mulciber…”
“He’s not causing trouble?” Lily sat up straighter, frowning. James snorted.
“I wish, I’m itching to take points.” Lily’s twitching smile belied her attempted look of disapproval. “Nah, he’s just glowering up the back of the classroom. Better that way, though.” James ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been devastated to discover that some things are more important than getting an excuse to hex someone to Wallonia and back.”
“That sucks,” Lily said, grinning.
“Cost-benefit,” he said flippantly. “Anyways, I know Mary’s got you covered for Charms and Potions – thank Merlin for that, I hate Potions – ah. I’ve got Moony’s notes for Ancient Runes for you too. When you’re out of the Hospital Wing,” he added sternly. Lily folded her arms across her chest.
“You make me sound like a child wanting sweets before supper.”
“Because you’re acting like me,” James replied, and before Lily could protest, he went on, “being a complete idiot. Any work you do while you’re feeling crap will turn out crap, and the more you push yourself, the worse you’ll feel. What you need to do is rest.”
Lily took another mouthful of water, washing away the last of the potion. “I know,” she said, and she did, logically. “But –”
“You’re not on your own, you know,” James said. Lily faltered. He set his glass down on the tray table and inched a little closer, jaw squared. “You’re not missing any lessons, really – we’ve got everything you need for when you’re better. And I know I wasn’t a prefect or anything, but… Well… I can do it.” The most bizarre expression crossed his face, and it took Lily a moment to identify it – awkward? She hadn’t known James was capable of looking awkward, but there it was, albeit a very handsome, smooth rendition that most regular people would’ve killed for. “We’re partners,” he said softly. “If one of us is down for the count, then… well… I can handle it all, Evans.” He swept up the remaining messages from the prefects. “I just want you to feel better, all right?”
The air thickened. Lily was painfully aware of the pillow digging into her back, that she’d not showered since she’d been admitted yesterday morning, that she was in an unflattering, stripy pair of pink pyjamas, that there were two second-year boys making farting sounds with their armpits a few beds over, and that James’s side brushed her knee, the contact brief and burning and tingling from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair.
She was lost for words. And she had no right to be: James was, essentially, just behaving the way any decent Head Boy ought to. Lily shifted, guilt slipping over her shoulders like a ragged old cloak, clasped too tight at the neck. James watched her, the rain outside reflected in his rectangular lenses. Genuine. Patient.
She had underestimated him. Her stomach prickled.
“Partners,” she echoed, and set her glass down too, using her free hand to extend her pinkie. “Thank you, James. I suppose I got pretty lucky.”
“You got lucky?” James grinned and shook his head. His smallest finger wrapped around hers, and the friendly touch made her shiver. His finger had a callous – from catching Quaffles, she reckoned. He never wore gloves. Ruined his technique, apparently. She didn’t know why she remembered him saying that. “So is this a promise, Evans? You’ll take it easy?”
“‘Evans’?” Lily said, sounding bolder than she felt, thinking that she could blame this in the future on her illness or the potion (but it wasn’t, it wasn’t, it wasn’t). “If we’re partners, James, we might need to be a bit more cordial than that.”
His face lit. It was magical. “Right you are. So, you’ll rest for me, Lily?” His voice was gentler on her name, tongue caressing the ‘l’s, each vowel a reverent breath.
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
Their knuckles brushed. Partners.
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Three for One 6
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: I'm so tireddddd
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
The keypad beeps and Lloyd quickly flicks the handle, kicking open the door so it hits something solid. You hear a grunt as the man on the other side stumbles back. It all happens so fast you don't get a glimpse of the code. Not much use if they lock you inside.
“What the fuck?” Ransom grabs the door and swings it open, “she got away–”
“Right here, peachy keen,” Lloyd sneers as pressure pinpoints on either side of your neck. You whine and try to loosen his hand, “she got you good, huh?”
“She’s sneaky,” Ransom mutters, “whatever. She can’t get out.”
“But she locked you in,” he snorts.
A growl ripples through the air. You’re turned back to face Ernie as he stands at the end of the hall. His head goes low as his jowls bunch up and he bares his teeth. He snarls as he slowly walks closer.
“Oh fuck,” Ransom puts the door between him and the hall, peeking around it.
“This fucking thing,” the other man utters, “tell it to stop.”
“Ah, ah,” you squeak as Ernie gets closer. “I– you’re hurting me. It’s making him mad.”
“I’m about to hurt him,” Lloyd threatens.
“Ernie,” you yipe and put a hand out, “Ern, please, I’m–” you choke, “okay.”
His thunderous warning grows louder. You reach with your fingers and he touches them with his nose. You caress the rough ridge and hush him, “please, sit. Please.”
His teeth gleam dangerously but he puts his rear down and hides his canines again. His chagrin nestles just above his usually doleful eyes and he looks between the two men; the one hiding behind the door and the one latched onto you.
“We need a fucking cage for that thing,” Ransom comments.
“And here I was thinking we need one for the girl,” Lloyd scoffs.
“Or you know, you could let us both go,” you suggest, writhing on your toes.
“Smart,” Lloyd sneers. “I can’t wait to train that mouth.” You turn your head and show your teeth, snapping them shut. His brows arch at the gesture and he gives an emphatic shiver, “I’m starting to like the feisty thing.”
“You’ve never been picky,” Ransom lets the door fall open, “get her in here.”
“Here,” Lloyd spins and flings you at the other man, “I’ll keep watch, make sure you don’t get locked in again.”
“Shut up,” Ransom grabs your arm and drags you away. He shoves you so you hit the foot of the bed. “Listen, you little bitch,” he keeps his voice low, “don’t fucking embarrass me again, got it?”
You flip your head back and gape at him. What are you supposed to do?
“And dont give me that fucking look,” he points in your face.
Or what? You swallow the words and stand straight. You face him and shrug. He’s not half as scary as the man outside the door, but both together are insurmountable.
You try to wipe away your irritation. You want this night to end. You want to go home. You don’t know how much more you can handle as your anger gives way to something more potent. Fear.
He slowly turns to the open wardrobe, peeking back at you as you cross your arms. You nibble your lip and avert your eyes. Your adrenaline dissolves and fatigue tugs at your muscles. You’re not giving up, you’re only biding your time. It might just take a little longer than you like.
“This,” Ransom tosses a furry white sweater on the bed, “this.”
You consider the outfit. The sweater is cropped and there’s a gold sequin heart on the front. The skirt is almost as short with ruffled tiers. It’s not really your taste but it hardly matters.
He slams the doors of the wardrobe and tosses down a pair of sheer stockings with ribbons wove through the top. These are just a few pieces of a full collection. How long have they been planning this? Had they followed you long or were you just in the wrong place at the wrong time?
You lift your eyes as he stares at you. You frown. He lowers his chin, “well?”
“Well, uh, can I get some privacy?”
He blinks slowly.
“Come on, pussy cat, show us some peach,” Lloyd taunts from the doorway as he peers through.
You gulp. This is getting too real. The only thing keeping you from full panic is the fact of your futility. Freaking out would only play into their game.
“Right, I get it,” you turn to the bed, “you can’t trust me. I ran. I ran and I got pretty far. So I don’t blame you for being paranoid.”
“Paranoid?” Ransom scoffs.
“You didn’t get that far,” Lloyd intones.
You ignore him and pull the clothes to the end of the bed. You put your back to Lloyd but can’t avoid Ransom. You look down at your jacket and slowly unzip it. Your scalp is itchy with sweat as you let the heat out from under the downy layer.
You drop your coat on the bed and bend to unlace your boots. You focus on the little things first. Boots, socks, your favourite red sweater with the white hearts. You lay each piece down deliberately, closer and closer to the inevitable.
You peel off the camisole you wore under the wool layer and take the furry sweater from the bed. There’s clucking from the door. You stiffen and clutch the fluffy fabric.
“Everything,” Lloyd orders.
You put the sweater back down and shudder. You hear Ransom’s breath catch as you reach behind you to unhook your bra. His eyes bore into you as the floor creaks. You sense the other man breaks the threshold.
“Little help?” The call from down the hall makes you flinch and a hum escapes Ransom. You look at him as his eyes linger on your chest.
“Shit,” Lloyd huffs, “don’t tell him.”
He leaves you alone with the other man. You take a breath and let your bra fall down your arms. You quickly swipe up the furry sweater and pull it on, but not without causing your tits to jiggle one last time.
“Those almost make it worth it,” he snickers.
You undo your pants as you keep to task. It’s so surreal but undeniable. It’s entirely clear what this is. Their intent is written in every glance, every comment. You roll down your jeans and stand in your undies and the fluffy sweater. Your thumbs hook in the elastic of your underwear as you pivot, trying to hide yourself as best you can as you strip the cotton away.
You just as swiftly step into the skirt, pulling it up to cling snugly around your waist. Ransom gets closer, petting the sleeve of your sweater as he does. His breath grits in his throat.
“Wanna close that door again,” he purrs.
You take the stockings, ignoring the proposition. Shit. You bend and roll the first one up to your thigh, the lace speckled with the little hearts. You slip on the other and stand straight.
He looms over you and shifts slowly towards you. His sole drags on the floor. He’s stopped only by a low drone from the doorway.
Ernie stands watching, glaring at that man. Your heart leaps and you do too. You flit forward to the dog and rub his ears.
“Shh, boy, it’s okay,” you glance back at Ransom, “I won’t let him hurt you.”
His eyes narrow. His shoulders drop slightly, the disappointment of your evasion clear. The close call sears down your back.
He trails you down the hall as Ernie walks beside you. You keep your hand in his fur, clinging to him for strength. It’s not about you, it’s about keeping him safe.
You enter the front room and find Lloyd scowling at a string of lights as Andy kneels in front of a box. It’s a weird scene to come upon. These two villains in such a wholesome position. Their sinister intentions could almost be mistaken.
Andy looks up and pauses as he holds a large red ornament. His lips part as he sees you. Fire blazes across your cheeks at the way his eyes dilate. He clears his throat and holds up the oblong decoration.
“You gonna come help, honey?”
You nod and let go of Ernie. He stays at your heels as you go to the other side of the box. You bend your knees and reach in, plucking out a clear ball with fake snow inside. You feel the eyes on you, waiting for a hint of something more.
Ernie paces behind you, a wall of fur roving back and forth. You want him to calm down, his energy fueling your own. You pause and turn to pet his broad back.
“Ern, it’s okay, boy, relax,” you twine your fingers into the thick strands and scratch him, “lay down… please.”
You nudge him slightly. He resists. His head moves from side to side as he looks at each man. He huffs and flops down, thumping onto the floor beside you.
“That’s cute. He takes care of you,” Andy says, “sweet girl like you, who wouldn’t?”
You make yourself smile. It’s not very difficult. You have extensive training in faking it. You step around the box and take the ornament to the tree. Lloyd is there, trying to wrap lights around the branches. He sidles closer as you reach to hang the decoration.
“Little higher,” he leans back, looking behind you. You don’t know why you listen but you do.
You stand on your toes and hook the ball over the upper tier. You feel cool air tickle the bottom of your ass, you’re not the only one to notice. Lloyd groans, Ransom chokes, and Andy exhales sharply. You feel like you’re on display, the tree is just secondary.
You put your arms down and tug at the sides of the skirt, cautiously going back to the box. You reach down, bending in your legs not your waist. Your eyes meet Andy’s as you reach for another ornament. His lashes flick hotly.
“Did I tell you how good you look, honey?” He growls.
Lloyd chuckles and Ransom joins in. You’re not sure what’s so funny or how to react. You look around and toy with the decoration in your hand. You stand on the sides of your feet, swaying nervously.
“Lawyers, man. They’ll never say what they want outright,” Lloyd remarks.
“Shut up,” Andy hisses, “I’m being nice.”
“You’re being a fucking simp,” Ransom sniffs.
“Don’t listen to them,” he says to you directly, “I mean it, you look really… pretty.”
“Well, every time she moves, her ass falls out, so I’d say she’s not too bad on the eyes,” Lloyd chortles. “How do you think she is on the dick? That sweater looks soft, let her keep it on, maybe put her in my lap–”
“Hey,” Andy tosses an ornament at him as you back away, mortified. “Don’t be disgusting.”
“Don’t act like you don’t want to get disgusting all over her. What’sa matter? The wife doesn’t put it in her mouth anymore and you can’t get past half-chub–”
“You’re both fucking pathetic,” Ransom comes forward to reach into the box, retracting as Ernie pops his head up and growls. You quiet the dog as the man drops several ornaments onto the floor in his fright.
“Pot, kettle, black as our souls,” Lloyd says.
“Let’s get the tree decorated,” Andy insists, “it’ll be Christmas soon enough…” he plants his foot, straining as he stands, “we’ve wasted enough time.”
He rounds the box, brushing by you. You don’t fail to noise how his fingertips tickle your upper thigh, along with the other men’s gazes as they note the same thing. You turn to trail after Andy and hang your decoration next to his. Another cool flow wafts up your skirt, eliciting another communal hum from the other men.
“Who’s gonna trim my tree?” Lloyd jokes crudely.
He gets only a growl from Andy as you refuse to acknowledge the comment. Ransom hovers at the edge of the room as Ernie stares him down. The large dog doesn’t get up but remains alert. You feel awful to bring him into this. He must be so confused, even more than you are.
🎀
Once the tree is decorated, your energy is completely spent. Your vigilance drains away what’s left and you lower yourself to the floor to sit with Ernie. He lets you lean on him and puts his head on your knee.
“Tired?” Andy asks.
You can only nod.
It’s a strange, almost numb hollowness. That sort of surrender that comes with just not having anything left in you. There’s that voice that tells you not to give up but it can’t drown out the blaring fatigue.
“You should lay down,” he suggests.
“With who?” Lloyd asks as he stretches his neck side to side.
“That’s not the deal,” Andy girds.
“Fucking chill. I’m kidding. Don’t worry,” he shows his palms, “I won’t open my Christmas present early.”
“Can I?” You ask as you drag a hand down Ernie’s side.
“Yeah, come on,” Andy offers his hand.
You should refuse. You should get up on your own but you’re not sure you even can. Before you can reach for the helpful hand, you’re scooped up from behind. You yelp and Ernie barks as he jumps to his feet.
“Woah, woah,” Lloyd dodges him as he holds you in his arms, “tell the mutt to cool it. I’m helping.”
“Ernie,” you eke out, hanging a hand down for him.
“Oh, pussy cat, you’re gettin’ sleepy,” he teases as he carries you past Andy, a defiant look shot in his direction, “let daddy put you to bed.”
Andy follows, Ernie too. Ransom keeps a cautious eye on the latter.
You don’t protest as you’re carried down the hall. He turns into the bedroom and takes you to the bed. As he puts you down, his hand shamelessly stops on your ass and spreads wide.
“Oops,” he feigns embarrassment, “must’ve slipped.”
“Hey,” Andy charges in and rips his arm back, “enough. She needs to sleep.”
“Look, she can sleep and I can do my thing. Multitasking–”
“We agreed–”
“Actually, you just talk at us and assume we do,” Lloyd counters sourly.
“I’m tired,” you mope.
“Yeah, well, who’s fault is that?” Lloyd snaps.
You frown and roll your eyes. You look past him as you pet the bed. Ernie bounds over and hops up, nearly knocking over Lloyd as he leaps onto the bed. He lays down beside you, his fluffy tail stretching past the end. You lay back and pet his head.
“Come on,” Andy inserts himself between the other man and the bed, “we all do our part, we all follow the plan.”
There’s silence. You peek over at the men as they stare each other down. You don’t say a word as you hug Ernie’s large head.
“I had a better one,” Lloyd hisses.
“We agreed,” Andy repeats. “We let her sleep. It’s her first night.”A sigh. Lloyd backs up and Andy looks over his shoulder at you. He gives a small smile and you nestle down into the bed. You close your eyes as your heart pounds in your ribcage. First night? Of how many?
#andy barber#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#lloyd hansen#dark lloyd hansen#dark!lloyd hansen#ransom drysdale#dark ransom drysdale#dark!ransom drysdale#andy barber x reader#lloyd hansen x reader#ransom drysdale x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#three for one#multicharacter#multifandom#the gray man#defending jacob#knives out
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Some angst comfort idea now cuz we love to hurt our feelings 😔 Killer!Reader whose ability causes them a lot of pain but they have to use it to satisfy the Entity cuz otherwise a greater punishment waits for them
3 romantic (Leon, Ghostface and Jake) to 3 platonic (Amanda, Legion [again any or all how you prefer] and Sadako) ratio
This is the last one for now sorry if it's to much, take your time and know no matter what you'll write i will love it (つ≧▽≦)つ
this was a super cute one to do honestly 🥺
Leon S. Kennedy:
Leon used to see this as a free opportunity to run, but when he realized you were really in pain, when other killers couldn’t really feel pain…He was shocked. He started to wonder why the Entity would do something like this, give someone powers that hurt them. It was more twisted to him than anything else when he realized it.
He encourages you to use your powers against him. He hates that it hurts you, but he knows how scared you are of the Entity. He assures you he’ll be able to get away and you won’t have to hurt him more than that, you can move on to someone else after. He’s tough and he can take it.
He gets all up in arms when he hears other survivors poking fun at your abilities hurting you. He stands up for you when you aren’t around, saying you don’t deserve bullying on top of painful powers. He may not be the most intimidating guy, but he’s convinced a few other survivors to shut their mouths about it.
He goes easy on you during trials together. It just makes him feel better to not give you a hard time, makes him feel like he’s helping you somehow.
Jake Park:
Even though Jake was afraid of you for quite a while, always seeing you in pain slowly whittled him down. Seeing you flinch when you start using your powers, and nearly keel over when they run out. It was worrisome, even for someone as terrifying as you. He knew…This was something that definitely wasn’t normal. The pain, the fear. He hadn’t seen it before in other killers…
When he knows you better and is more comfortable, he’ll quietly tail you during trials, always hanging behind you to keep an eye out for you. He’s genuinely worried that you’ll end up passing out from pain one of these days.
He isn’t scared of you anymore, and will even run up or jump up to embrace you when your powers run out. He hates seeing you in so much pain like that, and wants to take it away from you. He knows he can’t, but he still tries.
He teaches you calming breathing exercises for when he’s not around to help you, to ease the pain yourself. If it helps you even the slightest bit…It gives him so much relief to know he’s helping you.
Danny Johnson / The Ghostface:
Danny is furious with the Entity for doing such a thing to you. It’s personal with him, because he knows the Entity likes him. And to continue threatening you after cursing you with such awful power, at that…He’s angry. It’s rare to see such intense emotion from him, but you see it every time he comes to you after a trial.
After your trials, he grabs you and holds you tightly. You can feel the rage in his grip, but it's comforting at the same time, knowing he's so angry on your behalf. You try to tell him it's not his problem, but he won't hear it. It is his problem.
He never wants to let you out of his sight, because he knows that if he keeps you close, it means you're not out there hurting yourself for the Entity's sick satisfaction.
He actually attempts to tell the Entity off, since he knows her more personally than some of the other killers. It doesn't ever really work, but it makes him feel a little better doing it for you. He hopes it helps you feel a little better, too.
Amanda Young / The Pig:
Like Danny, Amanda is pretty pissed off about it, too. You've done nothing wrong — at least, nothing that would warrant a punishment or threats like this. As a woman who doles out her own punishments, it makes her blood boil seeing an innocent caught up in it.
She's never…Quite sure what to do for you. She's not much of a hugger and comforting talks aren't really her forte. She tries for you, though. She holds your hand and tells you things will be alright, and that she’ll try to make everything better for you. Because making things better is her kind of thing.
She doesn’t know how she’ll make it better, though. But she will — she knows she will, for you. She’s always thinking of what she could do to make anything better for you. Usually it’s going out of her way to find and kill survivors that were previously in your trials, because she sees them as semi-responsible for what’s happening to you.
Ultimately, even if she's not the best at comforting, she wants you to know she's always there for you, and she'll always do her best to help you and solve your problems.
Frank Morrison / The Legion:
Frank knows what it’s like, getting hurt by your powers. It’s a killer coming out of Feral Frenzy for every Legion member. Solidarity is the most valuable thing to him, being able to relate to his friends and knowing what they’re going through. So trust and believe, even if he didn’t know what you were going through, he’d damn well try.
He’s always willing to hold you if and when you need it. He normally isn’t much of a touchy-feely kind of guy, but he thinks something like this probably warrants it. He knows you feel bad enough already, there’s no sense in making you feel worse by denying you any comfort.
And he’s always willing to listen to you, too. He’ll listen to your venting about the powers you’ve been burdened with or your fears of the Entity. He may not really be able to do anything about it…But he can listen.
He tries to teach you ways to take your mind off of the pain, like he does. Focusing on the task at hand, or on something else that makes you happy. He knows it isn’t the best solution in the world, but he knows it’s better than doing nothing and suffering, too.
Sadako Yamamura / The Onryō:
Sadako is always concerned for you. She sees the pain on your face when you’re punishing the survivors, you’re her friend and…There’s something wrong with you, your powers hurt you. They shouldn’t do that. Her nensha powers don’t hurt her. It upsets her sometimes, to see you hurt like that, to see you afraid of what would happen if you don’t hurt yourself.
She hates that the Entity makes you hurt yourself to satisfy herself. She’s an angry little girl, and this doesn’t help. You have to stop her from lashing out at other killers sometimes, and make sure she calms down. She also hates making you worry about her — but she can’t help it. She feels things strongly. She knows you don’t deserve this.
She always wants hugs after one of your trials to make sure you’re okay. She knows she likes hugs when she’s upset or hurt, she figures you must too. It’d be difficult to convince her otherwise, it’s difficult enough to get her off of you as it is. Not that you mind, really, it’s just…This girl has a death grip. How much she loves you is obvious.
She protects you when she can, like taking your place in trials. She doesn’t want you to get hurt, and she’ll do whatever she can to help that. She may be small, but she's fiercely protective of you.
#inbox#leon s kennedy#jake park#danny johnson#amanda young#frank morrison#sadako yamamura#gender neutral reader#dbd imagines#dbd x reader#dbd x you#leon s kennedy x reader#jake park x reader#danny johnson x reader#ghostface x reader#amanda young x reader#the pig x reader#frank morrison x reader#the legion x reader#sadako yamamura x reader#the onryo x reader
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Them pt. 2
Come children, Mama made you your favorite
Summary: it's been a bit over 2 weeks since Tav had saved Rolen from the shadow curse. They'd been gone when he'd woken the next morning, and he'd not questioned it if not been disappointed by it. Now, under the crush of a new form of pain and danger, where are they to save him again? Where is his hero?
Rolan clicked his tongue in distaste and irritation as he looked at the unmatching numbers on the sales records was filing. Either Tolna had fucked up her gold count or he head. Either way, he would pay for it.
When Rolan had the blissful ignorance of Lorroakin's true character, he'd been so excited to begin his apprenticeship, so excited to become something greater than himself, to make Lia and Cal proud!
He knew better now.
Lorroakin was a bastard and a half. A self-obssesed, hubris, horror of a man. It took Rolan only 3 days to know he'd made a mistake. It only took 4 to know it was one he couldn't fix. At first, he'd thought Lorroakin's strange nonsense questions had been a test of some sort, the corporal punishment he'd doled out afterward the same. But as the days dragged on and 3 days turned to a week and then a week turned into two, he had come to understand that this was his life now. It had to be. He couldn't leave, not after he'd bragged and lorded his position over the heads of his siblings. Not after he had come so far to be here. Not after they had all risked their lives - risked Tav's life - to make it.
No. He would put up with it and cultivate his magic as he planned. He would ignore the black eyes and throbbing ribs. Ignore Lia and Cal's questions. He'd been through worse than a few punches and kicks here and there, much worse. He would be just fine.
With that thought, he got back to work at the front desk of his master's shop. Perhaps he could make up for the small mistake by working harder. Or maybe he and Tolna could go over the discrepancy in the days earnings before Lorroakin saw. Or maybe his math had just been wrong and he-
"Rolan!"
The familiar voice brought him out of his own head and back to reality. Walking through the doors of Sorcerers Sundries came Tav, a big smile across their face and looking cleaner and healthier than he'd ever seen them. At least Baulder was treating one of them well. He can't stop the smile that lights his face and the excitement in his voice.
"It's you. What are you doing here?!"
Tav smiles for a moment, their eyes roaming his face before it slowly fades and their eyebrows knit together in concern. Rolan silently curses himself for not ducking behind the desk to hide as soon as they walked in. Tav would have questions, and when they had questions, they wanted answers. And they wouldn't react kindly to the answers this time.
"Rolan, what's happened to you? Your face looks like it's met the blunt end of a goblins club! Is that...?" They reach over the counter before be can argue and brush their hand quickly over his bottom lip. He's so taken aback that for a moment, he doesn't even realize why they've done it. Their eyes set on him, cold as stone, "blood."
Rolan forces a tight smile and shakes his head. "Its nothing! I promise." There's a catch in his throat that he tries to swallow. His shoulders set rigidly. Why does he have such a hard time lying to them anymore?
As if his own body is answering him, he feels a small burning spot upon his forehead. It's all in his mind. He knows that, and he's glad for it. He would truly die of embarrassment if Tav could see the very place they'd placed a kiss upon his head glowing with the memory of it.
Tav narrows their eyes, still unconvinced. They look as if they're about to argue, but instead, they just sigh and drop the topic. Instead, they lean forward, their elbows on the desktop and their face closer to his than he was used to. It wasn't their intention to flustered him, he was certain. But once more, he silently thanked the gods, and perhaps Asmodeus himself, for his red skin.
Now that they're closer, he can see dark circles under their eyes and a tired set to their shoulders. Their eyes flit in a way that suggests they have much going on in their head. Perhaps Baulder hadn't been as kind as he had thought. He gives a small nod to himself and takes this as further validation for why he shouldn't bother them with Lorroakin. They were busy, and he was strong. They ask him a few questions about the nightsong, lorroakin, and the tome-seller before, with another glance at his bruised face, they thank him and head up the stairs to see his master.
He let's out a breath and allows his shoulders to slump a bit as he hears the sound of them solving his master's portal puzzle. They would do as they needed and leave, continue being a hero elsewhere. If they come in from the shop from time to time, he could put on a brave face as he had just now. He could do this.
The sound of the portal being crossed through some length of time later alerts him to their departure. They stomped down the steps, seeming irritated, and made a swift turn for the door. They spare him a glance over their shoulder and give a small smile and wave before stalking out the door. He frowned. It would seem Master Lorroakin was good at making even the kindest souls angry.
Day bleeds into night, the shop closes, Rolan reluctantly reports for his nightly "lecture", if one could call it that, and his subsequent beating. It passes in a blur, the whole affair. Rolan spends the majority of it with his eyes closed and thinking of anything to keep his mind off of the blows. One of Cal's awful jokes. Lia's excited ramblings about her dreams and plans. Tav's smile. Tav.
He finds himself sinking into the feeling of safety they bring him even as he braces for the next slap. Even as he trudges home in darkened streets. Even as the occasional person spits the phrases "foulblood" and "hellspawn" at him as he passes. Even when he tiredly bypasses his siblings and their nightly worried questions about his appearance. All until he falls into a deep sleep, wrapped in the safety of his hero.
As the morning comes, the day begins, and Rolan gets back to work. He's looking at his feet when he hears an approach to his desk again. Without looking up he gives a hollow "How can I help you?"
"Rolan? I need to buy a few things." It them. He hadn't even realized until he heard their voice. Theyre surrounded by a few of their friends. He smiles, already happier for their presence.
"That, at least, I can help you with."
The exchange goes quickly, and Tav asks if he'll come up to Lorroakins office with him. Rolan winces at the thought, but he can not tell them no, not even if he wanted to. So, all of them ascend and step through the portal. When they step into Lorroakins office and are met with the sight of Lorroakin having a rather heated conversation with a large, armored woman, rolan looks to the others in shock. None of them seem very surprised, Tav stepping forward and joining the argument. As he listens he realizes with dawning horror that the nightsong is a person. She was a person the whole time and Lorroakin knew that. Lorroakin raises his hand to Rolan, commanding something of him, but Rolan doesn't listen. He gives a firm "no".
He's still terrified of Lorroakin, no doubt, but he can not stand by idly while his master threatens his friends, his hero. Not while he's attempting to keep an actual person as a slave to gain immortality. No, it's his time to he brave. To do what's right. Hopefully, he can repay Tav's kindness in the process.
Of course, he was expecting a fight, just perhaps not such a...destructive one. The room scorched and wet at the same time from the elementals, blood spatter everywhere, far too much of it his beloved Tav's for his liking.
His own thoughts freeze him. "Beloved" indeed. When had that happened? How had that happened? He shakes his head clear and ignores it for the moment. Tav has finished making the corpse of Lorroakin answer some questions and Rolan is set on repaying their kindness from the shadows.
He makes his way to them, placing a hand on their shoulder. They turn to him and smile, a trail of blood dripping from their nose. He gives a somewhat sad smile and reaches out to wipe it away. They keep each others gaze for a moment before an uncomfortable cough interrupts them both. They look away from one another.
The large armored woman breaks the silence. "My friends! Valiant as we have fought, easily shall so we rest! I must return to my darling's embrace at once, the same as our fearsome friend here longs to. Away! Leave the lovers be."
Rolan may have melted into the floor if it weren't for the amusment he found in how red Tav's face had become. He felt his own ears twitch a bit, hot and uncomfortable, but not as aflame as theirs. He noted that as he had not corrected the woman, neither had they.
The other companions all cough and chuckle, shuffling towards the door and hiding snickers. The pale, white haired on makes some comment about "enjoy your embrace," and Tav smacks him on the arm as he passes. Rolan gives a soft laugh.
"So...if it's agreeable to you, that is, I can bring you to my home? I'm sure Lia would be incredibly offended if I didn't let her know you were around. She adores you, you know. She and Cal both. Cal is a wonderful cook and, frankly, it's time I offered explanations to all of you for why I let this happen." Rolan speaks with more confidence than he's feeling, a soft smile gracing his lips.
"I think that sounds wonderful. I'd love to see them both again as well. This city can survive without me for an evening, I'm sure." They reply, a much brighter and more beautiful smile stretching across their face.
Rolan nods, and despite his shaking hands, offers them his arm. They smile and link their arm with his, and the two set off at a stroll through the portal, through the store, and out the front. If anyone inside knew of the violence that had taken place, they gave no indication.
It feels foreign to Rolan. Walking calming down a city street, knowing he's safe, and that someone beside his siblings is at his side. He finds himself laughing, truly laughing, as they go and chat about nothing. The sound of them joining him is the most beautiful thing he's ever heard, he decides.
The stroll goes quickly and they arrive at the small home of the 3 siblings. He's grateful for it. The only reason they weren't turned away at the gate, the same as so many others, was because of his connection to Lorroakin. They certainly couldn't punish him if it was found that his master had gone "missing" from his shop.
Rolan sighs and shakes his head, dispelling the thoughts. What comes next can wait for tomorrow.
They enter the house, still arm in arm, and the delighted squeal that emits from his firey little sister upon seeing Tav is enough to make him laugh again. She tackles the hero in a hug and Cal follows in due turn. They jabber questions until Rolan gently swats them away. Tav complies with their wishes and let's themselves be dragged to the table.
Lia props herself on the chair across from them, and Cal puts food on the stove. Rolan sits beside Tav and tries his luck, wrapping an arm around their shoulders. Tav relaxes back into it, and he feels a swell of pride. The evening is full of revelry, laughter, joy, and delicious food. Rolan ashamedly admits his complacency with Lorroakin and his injuries and despite Lia's enraged outcry no one fussed at Rolan too much for it. Gentle assurances and comforting hugs are passed around instead.
Sleepy goodnights are made by the younger two and Rolan guides Tav to his own room. The two simply sit on the bed for a moment, Tav taking both his hands in their own. They stroke his knuckles, roughened from his time in Avernus and on the run. He gazes at their conjoined hands for a moment before looking up and meeting their gaze.
He's not sure who initiates it. Kisses, some rough, some soft, some slow, some quick as pecks come one after the other. Tav hisses a bit as he accidently knicks their lip with his sharp teeth, he responds by kissing it again, carefully this time. Arms hold him close, his own running through their hair and over their let. He let's his tail curl up and around their waist. They break away for a moment for air and Tav speaks.
"Wait! Wait, just a moment." They gasp, hands moving to rest against his chest, not pushing him away but putting a bit of space between them. Rolan immediately recoils, pulling his tail away and stuttering apologies.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I-I got carried away I didn't think...I assumed...I shouldn't have..."
Tav smiles and holds his face in their hands. "No, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong! I just...what is this? To you, I mean? I just...I really like you."
The words send Rolan's heart hammering against his chest. He speaks too quickly, embarrassingly quickly.
"I love you! I," he takes a deep breath, "I just...I. gods dammit, it's the truth. I love you. I'm sorry if it's too soon, but I can't pretend otherwise. I didn't always, mind you. There was a time when I wished nothing but for you to fuck off and leave my family alone. But the way you've protected us, helped us... the way Lia and Cal look up to you. I'm the oldest, for the longest time I've guided those two as best I could... we aren't even actually related, you know? But we're still a family, and I've always been so focused on becoming something great, for them. To protect them. And I hated it when you succeeded where I couldn't. But now? I've gotten used to having someone to protect me. You're my hero, and as every damsel in distress must, I've fallen for you." The words fly from his mouth in a blur, no planning or reserved smarm. Just plain, raw truth. At first, his eyes flit away, nervous for rejection upon such a forceful confession. But a forehead pressing against his own brings his gaze back.
"Perfect. That's the most wonderful thing I've ever heard... I love you too, Rolan. Unlike you, I fell hard and fast. Maybe not quite the first day we met, but definitely by the time I rescued you near Last Light. I love your care for Lia and Cal, your desire to improve, that stupid little smirk you get. I love you."
A flurry of emotion, soft beds, and gasping breaths. Ridged skin and sharp teeth. Sighs and moans and breathless "I love you"s. Rolan isn't sure how long it lasts, only that it's not enough, and it will never be enough. But for now, resting against each other, relaxed and pleased in an indescribable way, he savors the peace. He chuckles as he places sleepy kisses against their neck and then lay back and pull his head to their chest. In this moment, Tav is not the savior, the hero. Not the goblin-slayer or the victorious against Markyul. Right now, falling asleep against him and breathing deeply, it's just Rolan and Tav. Just them.
@illidariiii @potato-dragons @tieflingteatime
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just wanted to let you know if you ever wanted to write abt poe damerons uhhh oral fixation I am ALL ears
Poe Dameron's Oral Fixation
Poe Dameron x f!reader
Content: 18+ NSFW, smut, oral fixation, p in v, oral sex, rimming
Poe Dameron's mouth is never idle.
If he’s not using it to bark out orders and commands to his team, he’s doling out quips and remarks with a lazy grin spread across his face. Even when he’s quietly listening, he’ll often run the tips of his fingers along his bottom lip or press the cool metal of the chain hanging around his neck to his mouth. And his tongue? His goddamn tongue can never stay put—if it’s not sliding between the seam of his lips, he’s subconsciously running it over his teeth.
...but how does his oral fixation carry over into the bedroom?
First and foremost, you never quite knew what it meant to have someone kiss you like they were fucking your mouth until you met Poe Dameron. The way he kisses you alone is enough to leave you dizzy and wet, clenching your thighs together as your arousal soaks through your underwear.
Point blank: he'll suck on your tits like his life depends on it. Nipple orgasms are real, and Poe is an expert in the subject. (Sometimes, he likes to just bury his face in your breasts, slowly lapping at them as he ruts against you.)
Poe took your fingers into his mouth while you were riding him once, and the two of you discovered just how goddamn hard sucking on the digits makes him come (so naturally, it became a regular thing).
This man shoves his tongue in your ass like nobody's business. Ass worship isn't enough to describe it.
Finally, Poe's single favorite place for his mouth to be: buried between your thighs, thrusting his tongue in and out of your throbbing cunt. If you could handle a championship level of edging, Poe would be more than happy to spend hours upon hours lapping at your slick, dripping folds.
(And the feeling of you trembling against him, whining and moaning when you do finally gush all over his tongue, is enough to have Poe coming in his pants before you've even gotten a chance to wrap your lips around his cock.)
#answers from the cockpit#poe dameron#poe dameron x reader#star wars fanfiction#poe dameron smut#oscar isaac fanfiction#poe dameron headcanons
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your hand on my waistline
tags: Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Alpha Derek Hale, Under-negotiated Kink, Somnophilia, Free Use, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slice of Life
A/N: The title is from Taylor's song "I Know Places." Also, posting this here, will put this up on ao3 in the next 12 hours or sm. It's already noon here and I've only moved from my bed to go to the washroom lol... the plot (or porn?) bunnies really took over this Sunday morning.
on ao3!
He wakes up syrupy slow, the blankness of a good night's sleep wanting to take him back, the brightness of the sun bringing him to consciousness. He wakes up like a gentle breeze, eyes closed, slowly getting on his knees, cracking his limbs. His eyes open when hands trail his waist, warm and big, his upper half bare. Kisses land in the middle of his shoulder blades, and the touch has him smiling and turning his head.
"'S early." Derek's eyes are open just enough for him to squint and for Stiles to glimpse a bit of green, and he tugs, and Stiles follows until his back and Derek's front are adjoined, both of them clad only in boxers. Derek's hands caress his stomach, his chest, and rest there. This position, with Stiles' body on one of Derek's hand, will have his partner complain of a numb arm when they truly, eventually get up. But for now...
They sleep.
*
This time, he wakes up to trailing kisses on his body. Warm lips, big hands, and a breathtaking smile greet him as he opens his eyes, and morning breath be damned. Stiles moves his hands to Derek's neck, fingers caressing the hair at the nape, and Derek comes closer, his body hovering over Stiles', and their lips meet. It's sweet and unhurried, open lips and eager tongues, few clacks of teeth and a cheeky lip bite from Stiles on Derek's bottom lip.
"Brat," Derek says when he pulls back. Stiles grins.
"How ever will I be punished?"
Derek's eyes flash. Ruby red, danger. He's supposed to fear it. He should — he's the prey. Derek is the predator, the so-called monster, the thing that doesn't exist.
Stiles wraps his legs around Derek's waist, calves digging into Derek's back, his hands playing with the elastic on Derek's boxers.
"You're such a brat." Derek means it, more than means it, eyes still red, and oh, here it comes. His right hand wraps around Stiles' neck, left hand on the other side of Stiles' head, and they're a breath apart, so close. "Do you know what happens to brats, Stiles?"
He has an idea. But he says, "No."
Derek grins, feral. "I'm going to teach you, then."
*
His hands are tied to the bedpost, they sting with the stretch, and his neck is bruised from Derek's tight grip on them. He doesn't choke him, but he holds, and Derek holds tight. There's no other way to hold, and Stiles wouldn't want there to be.
His legs are as wide apart as they can be, and Stiles wants to free his hands, wants to move them and grip Derek's hair, pull him up and make them kiss. But his hands aren't free, and Derek is between his legs, head bowed, lips and teeth working against Stiles' sensitive inner thighs, his balls.
Derek licks a long a stripe across his balls, and Stiles can only mewl. Derek has been at this for fucking hours. (Minutes. But to Stiles, time only exists when he's cumming, and right now, that is an eternity away).
"Fuck, baby, the noises you make. I could cum from just that," Derek's voice is a low register, hoarse, and damn it. Too sexy.
Stiles mewls in agreements, pants, "Please," like that will do anything. "Let me cum, please, please."
Derek looks at him. Direct. Commanding. "You're still speaking," he says. He doesn't say anything else.
Stiles can't take it. He loves what Derek doles out, he does, but today he has no patience. He stares into Derek's eyes, the ocean-forest colors, and pleads his case. "I'll do anything. Anything, just let me cum now, please."
Derek doesn't agree right away. Doesn't say anything. He just watches, nostrils flared, jaw set. Sees the desperation and the tempting image Stiles must make, tied and at Derek's mercy, begging, pleading, crying. And he takes Stiles' cock in his mouth, hard and leaking, and goes to town.
Tongue, fingers, and the suction of Derek's mouth has Stiles cumming moments after, gone on pleasure.
He's inchoherent, all the words in his extensive vocabulary reduced to whimpers and noises he cannot parse in his current state, and all Derek does is stroke him through the experience. He's hungry still, nowhere near done with Stiles, his cock rock-hard and touching Stiles' as he moves up after, cum-tasting lips on Stiles after he's stopped trembling, has finally gone lax.
It's the morning, he just had an orgasm, and Derek is kissing him and being the gentleman he is, soft with him. Washing him up with a wet cloth when Stiles makes a noise of disgust at his state, and it's only after Stiles turns around to be the little spoon, his hands free now, back to Derek's front, that he realizes only one of them chased their pleasure.
"Alpha?" He asks, bone-tired, almost asleep again.
"Shh, sleep. Just one thing — you're still okay with me using you, right?" He says it so casually, like getting to fuck Stiles wherever and whenever (within some limits they've both set, after hours and hours of conversation), isn't something unusual, when in fact Derek was the one most hesitant about it. They haven't really done it much, despite their love for the Alpha-Brat routine, but Stiles knows one thing for sure.
"Yup. Definitely a-ok with it. More than."
Derek brushes away hair from his forehead and rumbles with pleasure. "Sleep," he says again, and Stiles is off to dreamland with a smile on his face.
*
His trip to dreamland is rather small — or so he thinks. Because when he opens his eyes once again, it's not because he wants to, but rather something makes him do it.
The something happens to be Derek's cock thrusting in and out of him, brutally fast, on the edge of his orgasm. Stiles doesn't even have to spare a braincell to get on with the program, his own cock leaking at the pleasure Derek is taking from him, the little tremors going through Derek's body, hands across Stiles' waist, on him, hard and bruising.
"Hard, harder," Stiles' voice comes off sleep-rough, and maybe he's been asleep longer than mere minutes. Derek fucks into him, big and warm in his tight little hole, and it's perfect, this combination of them — Stiles is by no means a shy little virgin, but every time with Derek feels like the first time, and Derek has told him more than enough times that he feels the same. It's magic, Stiles will always say; Derek always counters with, "No, dumbass, it's love."
Maybe it's a combination of both, because goddamn, Derek hasn't been the only man he's been with but he is the only one to make him feel this way.
Derek heeds his words, too gone on chasing his pleasure to do his routine "do the opposite of what Stiles says" at the moment, and he cums like a wave, all inside Stiles, his thrusts becoming uncontrolled. There's a low growl, snap of teeth at Stiles' neck, and that's it, Stiles' dick joins the fun.
Stiles' insides fill with Derek's white-hot cum as the sheets below him fill with Stiles'.
They lay panting for about five-minutes, Stiles not minding the mess because he's got Derek's arms wrapped around him and his dick inside him; he's comfortable. And then Derek breaks the silence.
"Was a record, baby," Derek tells him, kisses the back of his neck, open-mouthed kisses that has Stiles blushing like he didn't just have sex with the man. He turns in Derek's hold, who watches him, a little cross-eyed, and with a small, wicked smile on his face. "Hey. Sleep good?"
"Good," Stiles answers, snuggling in against Derek's chest. It's warm, and good, and his Alpha is all rumbly, purring with pride. "Record?" His vocabulary still seems to be lost, stolen by Derek's cock and his ability to suck cock, too, and Derek, the bastard, gets it. So when he speaks, Stiles just knows he's grinning his "wolf got the canary" smile.
"Fucked you once already before you woke up. Took my time with you, baby, put my whole fist in you. You take me so well, like you were made for me, fuck, come here." Stiles leans more and more into Derek's chest at the revelation — Derek loves to take his time, and can spend hours edging his pleasure when it concerns Stiles and all that he has to offer. Which means Derek used him for about two hours; Stiles knows him, and he knows that, especially when it comes to preparing Stiles, Derek can take at least an hour.
And Stiles woke up when Derek was about to cum the second time. So, yep. Definitely two hours, at least. And he didn't even stir in all that time, not until a long time — definitely a record when it comes to Derek using him and him being not conscious for it.
Derek pulls his face up and Stiles leans into the kiss, so sweet and gentle, it gives him cavities. And it's so jarring from the words spilling from Derek's mouth, Stiles has to focus to realize that yep, this is happening.
It's always the quiet ones.
"Almost made you spill in your sleep, baby, and that made me want to cum. So I did. I already cleaned you," Derek answers his unasked question. "Even made breakfast, but put it into the fridge for later." Sex talk and food talk, in the same conversation. Stiles loves Derek more and more every single day.
"I love you," Derek kisses him at the words, still sweet, but possessive, too, this time. "Yours."
"Yours, Stiles, always yours."
Stiles grins and moves his pointer finger across Derek's chest, slow and sensual. "Could you do one more thing for me?"
Derek raises an eyebrow. "Other than lick our combined jizz from you and our bed?" Stiles nods. "What do you want, brat?" The switch is so quick — baby to brat — and Stiles lives for this.
"Bring me breakfast in bed and feed me food because, you know, sex legs and all that."
Derek rolls them around and pins him to the bed, on his side where the sheet is not wet, and fuck, there they go again, their cocks touching, creating unintended friction.
"At this rate you'll have to feed me lunch in bed, too."
Derek grins down at him, already teasing Stiles' hole with his fingers. "Made enough sandwiches to last till tomorrow morning."
Stiles says in-between whimpers — he's too sensitive — "Fuck. How long was I asleep for?"
"Long enough for me to plan what to feed you. Food-wise and me-wise."
Derek's clearly been spending too much time with him, because that's something he'll totally say.
"Yes, yes, yes," Stiles pants, and the day goes on and on, the sunlight on the floorboards of their bedroom turns into shadows cast by the moonlight, and then the lamps light the way. They eat food, cuddle, and kiss. And they fuck, brutal and quick, and they rest, and they make love, looking into each other's eyes and saying everything they've said till now and will say in the future.
They're in their own home, in love and with each other, and this is how they choose to spend this weekend.
*
Monday morning comes, and Stiles wakes up to Derek talking on his work phone. Stiles catches the tail-end of it.
"—feeling well. Thank you. Bye."
Stiles waits till the call disconnects and Derek puts the phone away on his nightstand.
"I tired you out, huh?"
"Stop talking. Sleep. Too early," Derek swallows Stiles' laughter with a kiss and even his protests of it's not too early, it's almost nine in the morning, according to the clock on the wall, ends in a huff and another kiss. "Sleep," Derek insists.
Stiles doesn't just have sex-legs. He has sex-body, and he's just not going to pass this up.
So, he sleeps, and the sleep comes easy with Derek's weight on him.
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Yew (Part 2)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Male Centaur/Male Centaur Additional Tags: Exophilia, Centaurs, MLM, Sex Content Warnings: Amputee, Amputated Leg, Prosthetics Series: Part 12 of Monster Lovers: Shelter Forest Words: 4,911
Yew finally gets his own fic! Yew makes his very first rescue: a surly centaur dumped on the side of the road. Please reblog and leave feedback!
It took more than two months for Ethari to even attempt moving around for longer than a few seconds. The trip to the latrine had caused his fever to spike quite high again, so he was largely immobile for another week afterward. A modified pan was created for his use, which made things a little easier, but he grumbled sourly about it. Ethari’s stump was closed up and the stitches removed, but he was instructed not to do anything that would reopen the wound. After months of healing, however, he was finally in a place where he didn’t feel like pounded garbage, though he was still weak and shaky.
Ethari was still mistrustful of the entire situation. He didn’t believe they were helping him for no other reason than they wanted to help; in his experience, everything came with a price. He made an effort to not be aggressive or hostile, but everything about this place got his hackles up. He was just so ready for the other hoof to drop that he felt like he couldn’t relax. He would have been more comfortable if they had been demanding compensation for feeding and housing him; that would have made sense to him. The freedom with which they doled out care and attention seemed impossible, even suspicious.
Yew did a lot to shake Ethari’s faith in the idea that nothing comes for free. He was always chipper and bright, like a lighthouse, and just as any such beacon would, he drew Ethari’s eye when he was nearby. He was always there to help when Ethari needed to get up and move around to prevent his remaining legs from atrophying, by using his own body as support. Yew even brought fresh winter flowers every day to decorate Ethari’s relatively bare stall. It seemed he favored snow-drops, since he always sprinkled them into each bouquet. He always found a way to wrangle beer from Birch, who still didn’t like Ethari, and brought him treats from the winter larder. His persistent cheeriness made Ethari feel more dour in comparison.
“Why do you keep doing this?” Ethari asked him one morning.
“Doing what?” Yew asked, his curious puppy tone in place. Yew was removing the last of the bandages after having brought him apple jam and wheat crackers with his beer and flowers… just because, it seemed.
“This,” Ethari replied, waving at the scene.
Yew laughed. “Because you’re cute, I like you.”
Ethari blinked and his head rocked back. “Excuse me?”
“I like you,” Yew said, meeting his eye and smiling. “I think you’re cute.”
“Wha… who… cute how?” Ethari asked, flabbergasted. “What about me is cute? I’m grumpy and sour.”
“I think that’s cute,” He said, tilting his head. “Am I not allowed to think it’s cute?”
“I guess you are, but it makes you a weirdo,” Ethari snipped.
Yew laughed a bit more: a tinkling, bell-like sound. “I’m alright with that. Does me thinking you’re cute bother you?”
“Well… no…” Ethari said slowly. “I guess not. You’re… do you…”
“Like men?” Yew asked with a grin. “Yep. And you, apparently, are just my type. Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are by the realization.”
Ethari didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing.
“Would it bother you that I like you?” Yew asked with the same cheeky grin, though there was a hint of apprehension.
Ethari gulped. “...no.”
Ethari was only a year or two older than Yew, and though he had a passing crushes on one or two of the others at the ranch, building relationships there, friendships even, were heavily discouraged on threat of punishment, so he had never acted on it nor attempted to make friends or lovers. Now that he was off the ranch…
“Cetzu is coming back with your prosthesis,” Yew told him. “He sent us a letter saying that should be here tomorrow, barring any unforeseen circumstances. He’s only fitting you with the prosthetic tomorrow, so you won’t be using it right away. Mama will let you know when you can start using it.”
“Fine,” Ethari replied, moving the stump a little to ease the tense muscles.
“Mama gave me a salve for you, too,” Yew said, pointing at a jar next to the jam and crackers. “You’ll need it for the muscle aches and the flashes of pain. Do you think you’re able to put it on by yourself?”
“I’ll do fine,” Ethari insisted. “You’re awful fond of that mama of yours.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yew said with a chuckle. “She’s my mama.”
“She’s not even your real mother.”
“Yes, she is,” Yew said, his tone suddenly cold, and it was the first time Ethari saw a flash of anger in Yew’s eyes directed at him. “And you don’t get to say otherwise. Nobody does.”
“Alright, alright,” Ethari said, taken aback. “Sorry, damn. I’m just saying, you’ve got all that love for a human, but what about your birth mother?”
“I don’t know who she is. Or my birth father, for that matter. Never met ‘em.”
“What do you mean? How do you not know the person who gave birth to you?”
“The ranch where I came from practiced forced breeding. My birth mother gave birth to me against her will. We were taken away from our mothers at birth and raised in isolation by the ranch hands, to discourage us from forming bonds with the other centaurs. The only one I was ever close to was Birch, and that was only because he was the one in the stall next to mine. Once I was given a stall, that is. The ‘nursery’ they kept us in was basically a closet”
“Gods,” Ethari breathed, blinking. “Is that place here? In this country?”
“No, it’s on the big continent up north. We swam here to get away.”
“Good on you for that,” Ethari said. “Gods. I can’t imagine not having my mother there. It was the one thing that made that place bearable.”
“How did she die? Was she worked to death?”
Ethari frowned in horror. “Was that common on your ranch?”
“Oh, yeah, happened all the time.”
“My word. No, no, she was ill for a while before her death.” Ethari squinted suspiciously at Yew. “How are you so damned cheery, after all that? That would break the spirit of most people.”
Yew shrugged. “I was only seven when we escaped, so maybe I wasn’t fully broken yet. In any case, no matter what happened back then, it’s back then. It doesn’t matter to me now. I’m happy now. I love the farm, even though the work is similar to the ranch. It’s hard work, but it doesn’t feel bad to do it like it did on the ranch. I even enjoy it. The food that I plant and pull up nourishes my family and keeps them well and happy, and that makes me happy in turn. It’s hard to be sad in this place. It’s like heaven to me. I never, ever want to leave here.”
Ethari was quiet for a moment, contemplative.
“Do you think I could be like that?” He asked suddenly.
“Like what?”
“Like you. Happy. I don’t even know what that feels like. I don’t know if I’m capable of it.”
Yew laughed incredulously. “Sure you are, everyone is. It’s just a matter of finding something that makes you happy. For me, it’s this place. My siblings must feel the same way, too, since many of them have decided to stay, even after marrying and having children. This place is a balm for the soul. What’s that thing in the desert where there’s water? O…oasis? It’s like that.”
“Could it be like that for me?” Ethari wondered, mainly to himself.
“Time will tell, I suppose.” Yew stood from his kneeling position and made to leave. “But I certainly hope so. Now eat your jam, you need your energy.”
“Sure, sure,” Ethari said, waving him off.
Cetzu did, indeed, arrive the next day, meeting Ethari in his stall with a wooden leg he had carved. There were straps and cloth padding added to the attachment, but it still looked like it would be very uncomfortable. Getting used to it would be a chore, he could already tell.
“Do you think I’ll be able to run?” Ethari asked quietly. “I’ve always been hitched to equipment or sequestered in stalls. I’ve never been able to go on a full run before. I’ve always wanted to.”
“I don’t know,” Cetzu said with sympathy. “But you should at least be able to walk with no issues in time. You’ll need a lot of therapy in order to do so, however. A practice buddy will help you. Yew would be perfect for that, he helps a lot of the larger folks get back on their feet when we have to nurse them back to health. He’s pretty well known around here for it.”
“It would be Yew, wouldn’t it?” Ethari said snidely, though he wasn’t unhappy with the thought, much to his own surprise.
“Could be worse,” Cetzu said. “Besides, it’s gonna be a slow process. You have to get used to using it gradually. He’s the best for that kind of thing. He’s quite patient.”
Which meant he’d be spending a lot of time with Yew, Ethari realized, and he felt… relieved and apprehensive at the same time. He was starting to get used to Yew’s upbeat attitude and bright disposition, but he wasn’t sure if Yew would be able to stand him for that long. Sure, he said he thought Ethari’s grumpiness was cute, but even he knew it could wear thin after a while. Hell, he got sick of himself pretty often.
“Can you stand on your own?” Cetzu asked.
Ethari shook his head.
“One moment,” Cetzu said, standing and exiting the stall.. “Yew!”
Yew trotted up and peeked in. It seemed like he was always closeby “Yes?”
“I need to get this fellow up to make sure the new leg is the right length. Can you help him?”
“Oh, certainly. Up you get, Ethari.”
Ethari made a grunting effort and, with the help of Yew and Cetzu, managed to stand up, feeling terribly off balance. Cetzu quickly strapped the new leg to the stump and encouraged Ethari to put his weight on it gingerly, just to see if it was the adequate length. Satisfied, Cetzu encouraged Ethari to walk around his room briefly, just to see if it functioned well. It was painful and uncomfortable, as Ethari predicted, but not in a way that couldn’t be adapted to.
There was a slight drag that Cetzu said he could correct, no problem. Satisfied, Cetzu took the leg for some fine tuning and finishing adjustments, and left Ethari to rest. Yew was about to close the door to the stall when he was called by a feminine voice from the door.
“Hey Sunflower, one of the irrigation pipes is clogged. Declan wants you to clean it out before nightfall.”
An owl harpy stalked into view, looking into the stall with curiosity. She had lethal talons and lots of feathers in a multitude of earth tones. She wore no clothing to cover herself.
“Don’t leer, Sayo,” Yew said.
“I’m just curious,” She said. “I heard he was almost worse than me when I got here. Is that true, Sunflower?”
“At least he didn’t scratch the bajeezus out of me, like you did. Be nice, Sayo,” Yew said, waving at Ethari as he left.
“I wouldn’t expect a harpy to be in a place like this.” Ethari said, sizing her up.
“Most people wouldn’t,” She said, coming close and ruffling her feathers.
“Why are you here, then?”
“Because I am,” Sayo replied gruffly. “What’s it to you?”
Ethari snorted and didn’t answer. Boy, if he didn’t see a little of himself in this prissy thing. “Did you come here to gawk at me? If so, you can shove off, I’m not in the mood to do tricks for you.”
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” She asked him suddenly, her mischievous eyes sobering. “This place. You’re having trouble adjusting to it, aren’t you? I know. I still have trouble adjusting, even after fifteen years.”
Ethari’s head rocked back at the sudden admission. “How did you know that?”
“I heard Yew talking about it. He’s all morose because he can’t cheer you up.”
Ethari wondered at Yew talking to other people about him, but said nothing about it. “Why is it hard for you to adjust? Were you on a ranch, like Yew?”
Sayo shook her head in disgust as she sat on the threshold of the stall door. “I’d sooner end my own life than be a slave like that. I came from a coven of harpies who reside in the mountains to the west.”
“So how did you end up here?”
Sayo shrugged her shoulders, not in an “ I don’t know ” way, but in an “ it is what it is ” way. “My mother was the coven leader and didn’t like competition. I was attacked by the coven when I started to get too old to be submissive. I guess I mouthed off one too many times, because she ordered me to be killed and the entire coven descended upon me in a ritual execution, including my own siblings. My aunt felt pity for me and snuck me out while I was pretending to be dead, before they consumed me. I’m not sure how, but I ended up here.”
Ethari was quiet. He hadn’t even met everyone on the farm yet, but their stories were all so diverse. There was only one thing that tied them all together.
“Life in the coven was a struggle,” She continued when Ethari didn’t respond. “We fought over everything and everything was a competition. We competed for food, our place in the hierarchy, mating rights, anything you can think of. We didn’t help each other, because helping was the fastest way to get stabbed in the back. No one did anything ‘nice’ for others without harboring bad intentions. It took me so long to adapt to the farm here because none of it felt real. It seemed like a trick my mother had concocted to trap me. Even now, I sometimes have the feeling that I’ll blink and be back in the ritual, being shredded to death to appease my mother’s bloodlust.”
Ethari’s brow furrowed. “How did you deal with it? I can’t get comfortable, everything feels so foreign. I… I can’t trust anyone, even if I want to. And… I really want to.”
“Yew really got to you, huh?” Sayo said, her owlish face grinning. “They do that here. It’s hard to get out of this place without changing fundamentally in some way.”
“I can see that.”
Sayo shrugged again, her feathers whispering against each other like sand in the wind. “My advice? It’s gonna take time, just like with that leg of yours. It’s going to feel strange for a long time. There’s no way around that. The only thing you can do is trust.”
“Trust who?”
“Whoever. Yew, Me, Birch, Cetzu. Yourself. It doesn’t matter. Find something to trust in and it’ll come easier to you.”
“What if I can’t?” Ethari asked plaintively.
“Then you’ll be stuck, like I was for a long time. Moving forward is impossible if you’re stuck in the past. Trust is the only way.”
“Did you find someone to trust?”
“Yeah,” Sayo said. “My little brother, Asahi. He just… attached himself to me when I arrived, like a barnacle. I hated him and was uncomfortable with him, since he was male, but he grew on me slowly. He showed me all the treasures that he had hidden, little shells and colored rocks and shiny bits. Garbage to most people, but things he cherished. He doesn’t have a mean or spiteful bone in his body. He taught me that I didn’t have to compete for affection, because he had plenty to spare for everyone. It’s strange to me that he’s a teenager now. I almost expected him to stay a baby forever.” Sayo smiled. “He’s my best friend. You should get one too.”
Ethari breathed a sigh out of his nose. “Why do you call Yew Sunflower?” He asked, suddenly curious.
Sayo laughed. “I was extremely uncomfortable around men when I arrived, so I started calling the men by the names of things I liked, like flowers, to make myself feel less anxious. If I thought of them as flowers, I wasn’t as scared. You’re Dogwood, by the way.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Yew returned, and Sayo stood up, making to leave.
“Does it really help?” Ethari asked Sayo as she stepped away. “Giving your trust to someone?”
Sayo nodded and smirked. “It makes all the difference.”
Four days later, Ethari was cleared to start rehabilitating using the prosthesis, and Yew helped Cetzu put the new leg on.
“Thirty minutes,” Cetzu said. “You gotta work up to long term use slowly, or you’ll ruin yourself.”
“I get it, I get it,” Ethari said, settling into the leg uncomfortably and grunting. “You’ve said that five times now.”
“Just being cautious,” Cetzu said. “If you end up damaging the stump even more than it is now by doing too much too fast, you’ll end up completely immobile, so it doesn’t hurt to repeat myself, just so you really listen.
“If you can make it around the field without my help, I’ll give you a surprise,” Yew promised. “I think you’ll like it.”
Ethari snorted. “If you say so.”
Ethari went out of the barn on his own for the first time, slowly and gingerly limping on his new leg. He was grateful he had four legs rather than two, or he’d be flat on his face by now. It was painful, and he wanted to lie back down almost immediately, but he couldn’t let himself do that. He was free for the first time in his life. He wasn’t going to let having a missing leg stop him now.
However, once around the field was grueling. He had to walk a little, take a break, and repeat. Yew trailed behind Ethari by a short distance, ready to help if he needed it.
“You’re doing great, Ethari,” Yew said. “You can make it.”
Ethari didn’t have the energy to tell him to be quiet, so he didn’t say anything, only focused on getting back into the barn. Once he made it in, he struggled to stand so that Cetzu and Yew could remove the leg, and then collapsed, exhausted.
“You did it,” Yew said after Cetzu left. “I knew you could! I’m so proud of you.”
“Shut up and let me catch my breath,” Ethari gasped, leaning his body against the wood of the stall. Yew fell silent, and Ethari spent the next few minutes gulping down air. When he caught his breath, he opened his eyes and saw Yew kneeling right in front of him, a cute smile on his face.
“Well?” Ethari asked weakly. “Did I earn my surprise or not?”
Yew’s grin widened. “I’d say so,” He said, and took Ethari’s face in his hands. Before Ethari could ask what he was doing, Yew kissed him.
It was a short peck on the lips, and Ethari surprised himself by pulling Yew in and deepening the kiss. It started simple, but it ended up a mess of teeth and tongues and Yew’s moans against Ethari’s lips. Ethari could feel himself become aroused, and stopped, breathing hard.
“I told you you’d like it,” Yew said, also breathless and grinning.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ethari said, though he didn’t release Yew. Instead, he pulled him into an embrace and kissed his neck and shoulder.
“You’re more receptive than I thought you’d be,” Yew said, returning the embrace and stroking down Ethari’s upper back. “I’m happy, of course, but I just… thought I annoyed you.”
“You do annoy me,” Ethari said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”
“Who’s the weirdo now?” Yew said, kissing Ethari’s ear.
“You like me like this,” Ethari said, laughing for the first time. “You said so.”
“I did say so,” Yew said.
Months of therapy and a full season later, Ethari could get around just fine on his own. He still couldn’t run, and there was some doubt that he ever would, but at the very least he could walk unassisted. He offered to do some work around the farm, but despite the start of the planting season coming quite soon, they insisted he wait a while longer before taking on his share.
Yew spent all of his free time with Ethari, helping him with the physical therapy and just enjoying his company, and Ethari felt himself coming out of his shell under the warmth of Yew’s encouragement and guidance. He went out to meet the other members of the family and introduce himself to them, including young Asahi, about whom Sayo had bragged. He started attending the family meals with them and eventually began engaging in conversations, stilted at first, but becoming more natural over time. He apologized to Birch for causing a ruckus and even greeted shy, non-verbal Hazel, who they’d realized was pregnant shortly after he arrived, although he was in no fit state to care at the time. It’s part of why Birch had been so touchy. Birch, who was in much better spirits now that Hazel was past the worst of her pregnancy sickness, accepted his apology and even offered to share a pint with Ethari sometime.
One day, after Ethari had been deemed mostly healed and with no restrictions on his movement, Yew and Ethari took a walk out hand-in-hand into the woods, out of sight from the farmhouse and barn. It was the farthest he’d been from it since his arrival and that might have made him feel apprehensive, but today felt special for some reason. It felt like he was anticipating something, like something was in the air that he could taste, but he wasn’t sure what it was, a flavor he’d never experienced before.
“Are you going to stay here?” Yew asked him after a while. “I know we never talked about it, but you’ve spent all your time at that ranch, so I figured you might want to go out and see the world. I would understand that.”
“Do you want me to leave?” Ethari asked him.
“Well, no,” Yew said. He seemed uncharacteristically downtrodden. “But… I don’t want to keep you here if you want to see more of the world. It would be selfish of me to expect you to stay just because I want you to.”
Ethari stopped him, making him spin to face him.
“Sayo told me something a few months ago,” Ethari said. “Back when I was struggling to accept the kindness that was being shown me. She said I needed to trust. She said it didn’t matter who or what it was, but I needed to put my trust in something in order to move forward. And she was right. Once I decided to trust, being here came more easily. It’s still hard for me to adapt to a place where nothing is expected of me, but I wanted to move forward and stop living in my trauma so badly that I was willing to take advice from anyone willing to give it, even a stranger. It just so happened that the advice I got was exactly what I needed.”
“I wondered what the two of you talked about. What did you decide to put your trust in?” Yew asked, wide-eyed.
“You, silly,” Ethari said with a laugh. “You make it hard not to trust you. That puppy face of yours is just too innocent not to trust. Once I let myself trust you, things seemed to fall into place, as if I was just waiting for it to do so. I won’t lie, I still find myself doubting now and then, and I still have nightmares. I don’t know if either of those will ever go away, but you make it better. It’s hard to doubt when you’re near me. So… I want you near me all the time. I only feel comfortable when you’re there. So… don’t go far… alright?”
Yew nodded, and Ethari pulled him in sharply, kissing him hard. They had been careful about being affectionate around the family, since they didn’t want questions they may not have been ready to answer. But Ethari was ready now.
“Do you want me to show you what I want to do?” Ethari said, taking Yew’s face in his hands. “Do you want me to show you how I really feel?”
Yew gulped, but stared Ethari in the eye. “Yes.”
Ethari kissed him again, perhaps a little roughly, but Yew seemed to respond positively. “Then turn around.”
Yew was shaking a little as Ethari released him, but he obeyed, bracing his upper body against a tree as Ethari reared up on his back legs and mounted him, his cock slipping out of its sheath and bobbing as it searched out an entrance.
“Do you want this?” Ethari asked, wrapping his arms around Yew’s shoulders from behind.
Yew looked up at Ethari and grasped Ethari’s arms. “Oh, gods, yes. Please, Ethari, please.”
Ethari pressed his cock to Yew’s pucker, slowly inching inside him. Yew’s eyes half closed and he moaned.
“Does it hurt?” Ethari asked. “Sorry, I’m not really sure what I’m doing yet.”
Yew shook his head. “No, it feels good. You feel so good.”
Ethari bent so that he could kiss Yew upside down as he thrust inside of him and Yew moaned against his lips. This close, his white lashed fluttered like feathers in the breeze, and Ethari was struck by his beauty.
“You’re beautiful, Yew,” Ethari whispered, and Yew smiled.
“How can I be beautiful when you exist, Ethari?” Yew said. “You’re so handsome. I thought so when I first saw you. I’d have flirted with you sooner if I thought you’d be receptive.”
Ethari grinned. “You’re just buttering me up, aren’t you?”
Yew smiled around his gasping. “Only always. That doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
Ethari suddenly thrust harder, and Yew cried out. Ethari covered his mouth with his hand.
“You have to be quiet, or we’ll get unwanted company,” Ethari whispered into Yew’s ear. “Are you going to be good?”
Yew’s eyes were glassy in pleasure, and he nodded. Ethari removed his hand and Yew moaned again, only less loudly.
“I love how this feels,” Yew breathed. “You’re so good at this. Are you sure it’s your first time?”
Ethari bucked again, and Yew struggled to keep his voice down.
“Maybe I’m just naturally gifted,” Ethari suggested.
“I believe it,” Yew replied, his eyes closing as Ethari thrust faster. “There’s nothing you can’t do. You’re amazing.”
“You’re going to make me cum if you keep talking like that,” Ethari said, as he was, indeed, close to bursting.
“You can,” Yew said, his grip tightening. “I think… I’m almost there, too.”
“How would you know?” Ethari asked him. “Isn’t this your first time?”
“Yeah,” Yew said, his face scrunching up. “But I feel… something… happening…”
Yew groaned loudly, and Ethari heard a thick splashing against the ground at their feet. Thrusting faster, Ethari began to grunt in Yew’s ear.
“Don’t stop yet, it’s happening again,” Yew begged. Ethari pounded into him, and Yew did cry out, his body stiffening underneath Ethari, and another splashing was heard.
“My goodness,” Ethari said, riding the edge of his own pleasure and letting it rise and ebb, delighting in the sounds Yew made when he came. “Aren’t you eager, love?”
“I’ve wanted you so badly, the last few months,” Yew said, sweat collecting on his brow despite the cool spring air. “I’m so happy you want me, too.”
“I do,” Ethari told him. “I’m not going anywhere, Yew. I’m here forever. If I go anywhere, you’re coming with me. I need you.”
Yew shuddered against Ethari, and came again. “You’re so good to me. I’m so happy you chose me. Thank you.”
“No,” Ethari said, his voice soft. “I should be thanking you. You gave me new life.”
“I just saw you on the road and helped you,” Yew said, his body shivering with the waves of pleasure.
“You did more than that,” Ethari pressed his forehead against the top of Yew’s head. “Oh, gods,” He exhaled. “I’m close.”
“Please, do it,” Yew said. “You can do it. I want it.”
Ethari came hard inside of Yew, his seed spilling out and down Yew’s back legs. Ethari nearly fell over in his attempt to disengage from Yew. Yew helped him stand straight, laughing.
“I think I need a wash,” Yew said. “Do you want to help me clean up at the river?”
“I can’t get in the water because of the leg,” Ethari said, trying to catch his breath. “But I can pull up a bucket of water and rinse you down. But before that…” Ethari pulled Yew into an embrace. “I meant it, you know. If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead. I didn’t know I could be so happy. Thank you for saving me. And thank you for letting me put my trust in you. Sayo was right.”
“About what?” Yew asked, hugging Ethari tight.
“Trusting you made all the difference.”
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My Masterlist
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Blood Red Wine (Genshin Impact)
Pairing: Kaeya x Reader or Diluc x Reader
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: Blood, gore
A/N: I swear I'll make the sequels to these soon
Angel's Share was a safe space for a lot of people. Adventurers, merchants, and knights all frequented here for a nice drink after a long day. You were one of those people. You worked at the General Goods shop. It wasn't tough work. In fact, it was rather dull. Your whole life was dull, filled with no adventures or fun. You let out a groan, resting your head on the cool wood of the counter. You could feel the warmth of alcohol coursing through your body.
"It's so unfair!" You groaned once again. "Everyone's life is so exciting!"
A hand patted your back as a soothing voice filled your ears. "There, there."
"No!" You lifted your head, looking over at the man sitting next to you. "I want adventure! I'm tired of living in this stupid city!"
"And leave us behind? I'm hurt."
"Kaeya, stop teasing."
You pouted. "Yeah, listen to Diluc. Stop teasing."
Kaeya only sipped on his drink, stifling a laugh. Diluc sighed and started to clean the counter. It wasn't often you got drunk like this. But every once in a while, you wanted to complain about how boring your life seemed to be compared to everyone else in the world. Even the two brothers who always fought led interesting lives. Kaeya was a cavalry captain that got to travel whenever he wanted. Diluc owned Dawn Winery and met all sorts of interesting people. Though, you were sure both of them had something hidden that they wouldn't tell you about.
You knew they weren't bad people. You've known them for some time now. Kaeya was one of your best friends. Sure, he teased you a lot, but he actually kept you from spiraling into a fit of depression from how lackluster your life is. He made things fun . Diluc, on the other hand, was reliable. Reasonable. He was the logic and sometimes he doled out the harsh words that you needed to hear. They were like the perfect pair, really. What one lacked in the other excelled at. It didn’t seem like it to outsiders, but they got along pretty well. Their bantering words and insults usually held hidden meaning that you picked up on fairly early into meeting them.
You slid your empty glass forward. “More.”
“No,” Diluc grabbed the glass and started to clean it out. “I’m cutting you off. Unless you want water.”
“But I’m not even drunk!! Just a little tipsy, is all.”
“And I don’t want you drinking to the point of you getting drunk.”
“Come now, it was only one or two drinks. Would you like a sip of mine?” Kaeya leaned forward and slid his glass towards you.
“They don’t have a tolerance to alcohol like you do, you drunk.”
“It’s better than being a prude and not drinking at all.”
Diluc’s lip curled up in disdain. “If I wanted to make a fool of myself like you so often do, then I would drink it. But I don’t.”
“Ouch. Your words hurt, dear brother. You make it sound like I’m an alcoholic.”
“Are you not here every night?”
“Better than being alone.”
“I’m not alone.”
“You guys fight too much.” You stood up, swaying slightly as you did so. Your vision was wobbly and you blinked, shaking your head. “Oh, I think that drink was stronger than I thought.”
Kaeya stood immediately steadying you while Diluc leaned across the counter, reaching a hand out. It felt nice to have the two looking after you. “I wanna go home.”
“Kaeya?” Diluc said it more like a command, leaning back once he saw you were steady.
“Of course. Let’s go, sweetheart.”
“ Kaeya . Don’t try anything.”
Kaeya only scoffed in response, as if offended Diluc would even think he would do something like that. You waved goodbye to Diluc as Kaeya wrapped his arm around you and walked you out of the tavern. It was already nighttime, the streets slowly emptying as people made their ways home. Diluc and Kaeya would both switch walking you home, sometimes both at the same time. They were overprotective at best. You didn’t know why, not that it concerned you. You were glad to have people at your side. If it was nighttime, they grew especially anxious. Even now, Kaeya’s face was relaxed, but his eyes flitted around as the two of you walked. You could never find out what had them looking around like that and never got a straight answer either. Mondstadt was relatively safe. So what had them so worried?
You were too tipsy to even care. You had gotten used to it at this point. Instead, you leaned against Kaeya, sighing as wrapped his arm even tighter around your shoulders. His cool body temperature felt nice against your hot skin. He was always cold. He said it never bothered him. It was nice in the summer and especially nice when you were drunk and overheated. It was always nice being around him.
“You doing ok, sweetheart?” His voice was soothing and sweet. “We’re almost to your place.”
“‘m just sleepy. Wanna get in bed.” Your words slurred together from both the alcohol and exhaustion.
He laughed, patting your head. Alright, alright.”
Once you arrived at your home, Kaeya made sure you got in safe. He tucked you into bed, set a glass of water by your bedside, and stayed with you until you fell asleep. The last thing you remember as you drift off is Kaeya smiling down at you.
***
The cellar in the tavern was dark and damp. It was the perfect conditions for the wine barrels lined against the wall and the shelf of expensive looking bottles. Diluc was naming out dates as you wrote down the information on the clipboard. You helped him out with inventory every now and then, especially when it was your day off and you didn’t want to be left alone. He insisted that Charles or Elzer could handle it, but you did so anyway. It was your own way of telling him you wanted to spend more time with him.
“That drunk bard needs to be cut off…” Diluc muttered, crossing his arms as he looked over all the barrels. “We’re down two bottles of wine imported from Inazuma. All because he went overboard.”
“I mean, don’t you want people to drink the expensive ones? More money, right?”
He shook his head. “More trouble, especially when it comes to him. He rarely even pays.”
“He seems like a fun guy,” I reply, following Diluc up the stairs. “But I guess I’ve never been around when he gets drunk.”
“Good.”
You set the clipboard down on the counter as Diluc starts preparing for the open of the tavern. He’s been working here more than normally. From what he and Kaeya have both said, he prefers to work back at Dawn Winery. But recently, he had opted for working at the bar. You joined him in cutting fruit for the drinks.
“No need to do that much. I can handle it.”
You shook your head, carefully cutting the fruit into slices. “You know I don’t mind. I like hanging out with you like this. It’s better than you seeing me drunk.”
“You already work a full time job-“
“That I hate. I’d rather be working with people I actually like. Like you.”
A comfortable silence fell over the both of you. Diluc’s shoulder brushed yours as he shined cups, making sure everything was pristine. When you were with him, you didn’t feel the need to talk. Just his presence was enough to fill you with a sense of calm and security. Even if he was annoyingly stern at times, it was how he showed he cared for you. You'd probably be a drunkard if it weren't for him.
You wince, sighing as you accidentally cut your finger. "Oops."
"Did you cut yourself?" Diluc set down the glass and rag, immediately putting his attention on you. "Let me see."
"It's just a small cut."
Diluc leaned in, bringing your finger closer to his face to inspect it. His hands were warm, his eyes trained on the cut. You studied the way his red hair fell in front of his eyes, soft and slipping out of the hair tie. He clicked his tongue, looking up at you with a disapproving gaze. You were always clumsy and this was a common look you got whenever you accidentally hurt yourself. A bead of blood formed on the cut, slowly dripping down your finger. It slid onto Diluc's hand. He flinched, as if he just got burned.
"Oh, sorry! I'll go clean it off." You went to pull away, but he held onto your hand tightly.
"No. It's fine." He dragged you over to the sink. He was acting weird . You noticed his ears were tinged red and his breathing was slightly heavier than normal. He grabbed a small cloth, placing it over the cloth and holding it tightly.
You blinked. "Uhm…you can let go now."
"What? Oh. Right." He seemed to shake himself out of whatever state he was in. "Be more careful next time."
His words were curt and he left to go to the backroom. You just stared, completely confused. There it was again. It was so odd , the way that Diluc or Kaeya would sometimes act out of the ordinary. You never found Diluc to be queasy when it came to blood, but he acted like it almost disgusted him.
Just as quickly as it happened, he came back with a bandage and acted like nothing happened. You stayed silent as he placed it over your cut, sealing it tightly. Diluc patted your head and then went back to cleaning the glasses. It made you think that you were just being delusional. There was nothing wrong with them.
***
There was definitely something wrong. You were sure the tavern would be open. It normally was. It was a Friday night and the night had barely begun. After you had gone home earlier, you realized you left behind your bag. You expected to see everyone drinking and celebrating the upcoming weekend. Yet the place was eerily silent. You took a couple of tentative steps inside. A feeling of dread washed over you. You shouldn't be here. You knew you shouldn't…and yet, you still called out for Diluc or Charles, your voice quiet and meek as if you've done something wrong.
When there was no response, you finally decided to check the backroom. The closer you got, the more that dread turned into pure fear. You could hear hushed voices. You recognized them instantly and you wish you hadn't. A deep metallic smell drifted from behind the closed door and towards your nose. Don't open the door. Your mind was practically screaming at you to stop. Whatever you would see behind it would change everything.
Morbid curiosity got a hold of you. Nausea hit you like a gust of wind as you opened the door. You almost thought you were having a nightmare. The sight in front of you was grotesque. Diluc and Kaeya stared at you in shock as they paused in whatever they were doing. On the table in front of them was a pitcher filled with a dark red liquid. Next to the pitcher was a pile of dead- you couldn't even make out what they were. It was just dead carcasses, their blood, guts, and viscera spilling out. You went pale.
"What are you doing here?!" Diluc hissed. His hands and cheek were smeared with blood. "The pub is closed tonight!"
Kaeya stepped around the table, moving toward you. "Are you alright? You look pale."
You took a step backwards. Then another. Your head was swimming as you tried to keep your composure. "Wh-What are you- why are you…I think I'm gonna be sick."
You turned to the side to throw up but found yourself fainting instead. All you could see was the pile of flesh and blood. You felt cold and hot at the same time as your vision went blurry. You could feel arms wrap around you, voices sounding like they are muted and far away.
"Hey…hey, wake up." There was a pause. "Damn it, Diluc. Did you not say that you were closing for the day?"
"I wasn't exactly in the position to do so. It's your fault for forgetting to restock the blood supply."
"What do we do? We have to tell-"
"No, we can't."
"Then how else do you suggest we explain this situation?"
"Figure it out."
"You are so insufferable. This is why Father-"
" I'm insufferable? That's so rich coming from you, Kaeya."
A groan escapes your mouth as you finally come to. The rotten smell still made your stomach turn, but at least you were able to stay conscious. Kaeya had your head resting in his lap while Diluc kneeled next to him. You sat up, trying to scoot away. They were both still covered in blood.
Kaeya leaned forward. "Easy there-"
"What the fuck?!" Your eyes were focused on Kaeya's mouth. Two sharp canines jutted out in place of his normal teeth. "What the hell are you?!"
Diluc's eyes widen as he slaps his hand over Kaeya's mouth. "Calm down, alright? Let us explain."
You shake your head, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to move away from them. You could see Diluc's own teeth protruding from his lips. Suddenly, everything they ever did was flashing through your mind. Escorting you home at night, always being close enough to smell you, acting odd whenever you accidentally got a cut. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to run away. And yet, you just stared at them in disbelief.
"I'm waiting." You said, your voice hoarse and shaky. You tried not to let the fear show but you knew you were failing.
"To start-"
You held up your hand. "Wait! N-not…I can't do it in front of the carcasses. And clean off the blood please ."
The two looked at each other and then nodded. You stood and went out to the main section of the tavern. You decided to pour yourself a drink. You automatically reached for the red wine, but froze. Not the right choice. Instead, you made yourself some sort of fruity concoction that would go down easy. After you were finished, you sat at the bar and waited for them to come back out. When they did, they looked as they normally did. Kaeya tried to remain cool and calm, giving you a soft smile as he sat next to you. Diluc took his normal spot behind the counter, leaning against it with his hands clasped together.
Diluc cleared his throat. "Alright. Well, to begin…" He trailed off.
"We're vampires."
"Kaeya!!"
"How else do you want me to explain it?" Kaeya glared over at Diluc before turning his attention on you. He gave you that same lighthearted smile you were so used to seeing.
You felt like your head was going to explode. You took a long sip of your drink. "So…What am I? Prey?"
Kaeya laughed. "Only if you want to be."
"Honestly," Diluc sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Have some tact. No, you're not our prey. We'd never bite you without your permission. Or any human, for that matter. We tend to stick to animal blood. It's safer."
You slowly nod. "So…I'm assuming Crepus was a vampire. But what about you, Kaeya?"
"Father thought it was best to turn me at a young age. Though, I practically begged to be turned. I thought it was the coolest thing." Kaeya laughed, as if the memory was fond to him. "The transition turned out to be unpleasant but it was necessary. Been living like this ever since."
"It was also a noisy transition. You couldn't stop screaming."
"You would scream too, if-"
"Can you guys stop fighting for one second?" You rubbed the bridge of your nose. This was insane. "I'm going home."
Kaeya placed his on your shoulder to keep you from leaving. You flinched, as if you just had been burned by his touch. He moved his hand away. The hurt was evident in his eyes. But what could you do? Just act like this was normal? That it was fine your two best friends have been lying to you your whole life? No, that wasn't fair. It wasn't right .
You stand up without another word. You couldn't say anything else. You knew you shouldn't or you'd say something you might regret. Despite their secrets, you still didn't want to see them hurt. You needed time to process everything. If that meant cutting contact for a couple of days, so be it.
Kaeya's eyes widened. "W-wait! Don't go!"
"Stop." Diluc sighed, closing his eyes. "This is for the best. We all need a couple days to cool down. Just…trust them."
Trust. It almost made you want to laugh. If they wanted trust, they should've told you sooner. Or at least, eased you into it. It would've been better than seeing them covered in blood hunched over corpses like in a horror story.
You make your way to the door, not bothering to look back. You can’t help but jump at every single noise on your walk home. Vampires. They’re vampires . The men who you’ve known and trusted for years. But because of that you couldn’t be completely angry. The fear in Diluc’s eyes that he tried to hide and Kaeya’s hurt expression twisted at your heart.
You knew, deep down, that you will forgive them. It would take time to get used to this drastic change. You had a million questions that needed answering. And you also knew that they would never hurt you intentionally. They had always looked out for you and always protected you. They were just vampires and not humans. It’s fine.
"Just wait a bit." You told yourself, flopping down onto your bed. "Then you can go and figure things out."
You just had to figure out who to talk to first. Kaeya was most obviously hurt. He hated getting into any type of conflict and would rather work it out immediately. You wouldn't be surprised if he soon came knocking at your door with a gift and the intention to stay all day. Diluc, on the other hand, was the type to let things fester. He wasn't outward with his emotions. If you've known him long enough it was easy to tell when he's trying to patch things up. You can imagine him fixing things in his own way through acts of service and sidelong glances.
This is a mess. You definitely needed to sleep on it. And sleep came easier than you thought. As you slowly closed your eyes, all you could see were the brothers, staring over you with sharp pointy teeth. Ridiculous.
#x reader#fanfic#genshin imagines#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#vampire au#diluc ragnvindr#diluc x reader#genshin diluc#kaeya alberich#kaeya#genshin kaeya#kaeya x reader#genshin impact kaeya
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Miss Berry, have you and yami ever played strip poker before? And if you have how did it go? 🌚
NANA I’ve sat on this bc I wanted to write a little something fjdjdjdkdkd but yes we have im a notoriously terrible poker player although im earnest and try very hard but ufjfjfjdjdjdj anyway here’s a little something I wrote thank you for asking and for the inspo <333
“Pick what you want gone first and I’ll do the honors.”
It’s clear that despite how precocious he’s managed to help you become, there are times where he still catches you at least slightly off guard.
While you may have suggested strip poker to begin with, an overconfident part of you naively believing you may be able to win, the reality sinks in when you lose the first hand. Your cheeks warm, faced with the prospect of choosing what article you’d like to remove first, a slight dread filling your gut. Awkwardly, you gaze down at your overdressed form - skirt and shift and top and belt and stockings.
“I have far more to lose than you do,” you mumble and he chuckles, leaning across the bed the two of you sit on facing one another.
He can’t continue to watch you struggle, as adorable as it is when you’re flustered. “Y’know what, let’s start here.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine, mouth just above your ear and chin resting atop your head. In all of his fondness, he reaches behind your head for the tidy braided updo you’ve twisted your hair into to keep it off of your face. Thick fingers slowly unwind the strands of one of your braids, the pieces gently falling down currently clothed shoulders. The second braid follows suit, his fingers gently running through each strand.
Like a true gentleman, he takes his responsibilities as your teacher seriously after all.
“There we go.”
Yami smiles when he leans back and catches sight of you hiding one of your own, lips pressed together. Your face remains warm but your posture gradually opens up, being lent the slightest bit of temporary courage. Gazing up at him, eyes round and sparkling, you don’t bother hiding that smile for much longer.
“Shall we draw again?” Your suggestion makes him laugh and he shrugs, leaning further back and squinting to appraise the situation. “Why, you feelin’ lucky or something? You’re already on a losing streak.”
You scoff, frowning at him.
“Is it really accurate to call it a losing streak if we have only played one hand, Captain?”
You reach for the deck of cards and dole out one at a time in front of your folded legs and his. Warmth simmers in your cheeks while the weight of his gaze bears down on you, gray eyes tracing your movements as you make them. He picks up the cards once you’ve placed two, fanning them out and holding them inches away from his face.
With a giggle, you do the same and glance at him over the tops of the cards, nervous to see what you’ve been given to work with. Peering down briefly, you sigh.
Bad hand. You frown and Yami laughs, shaking his head. “Haven’t you ever heard of a poker face?” He adds a card to his own hand, three of them fanned out.
Rolling your eyes, you pluck a card off of the pile and add it to your hand. Appraising the numbers, the corner of your lip lifts in a smile and you are caught.
“Not so fast. What are you betting?”
Yami raises a brow, eyes narrowed. You remove one hand from your cards and lift the hem of your dress slightly enough to show him a peek of your stockings.
“These. You may even do the honors of removing them.” Sighing, you smile. “And your bet?”
Another card is drawn for each of you. You attempt to maintain your confidence, squaring your shoulders.
“Well the downside to having less to lose is that I’ll get naked faster,” he grumbles and scrubs a hand over his stubbly chin. “You can have my shirt if I lose.”
You raise a brow this time, leaning back and humming to yourself. Wordlessly, you pull another card from the deck. Your eyes widen and you add it to your hand, pressing the cards against your mouth to hide the smile that shows you’ve won.
“A straight.”
You show the cards to him, fanned out. He exhales a wicked chuckle, sending a chill down your spine.
“Full house.”
Sighing, you glance at his hand and confirm it’s true. He tosses the cards aside and reaches for your ankles, gently scooting you across the bed. Unfolding one of your legs, he reaches up your dress and hooks his thumb into one of your stockings. Slowly rolling it back, he smiles down at you with his hair hanging over his face charmingly.
“What did I tell you about overconfidence? And to think you believed you’d had one on me.” Rolling your eyes, you lay back on the bed. “Almost saw me naked and everything.”
Giggling, you shake your head.
“You’re ridiculous.”
He switches legs, pulling down your second stalking with painful precision. Your skin dances beneath his fingers, warm and electric and aching for more than just innuendo.
“And you’re a sore loser.”
It may be true but you will not give him the satisfaction of admitting it, folding your arms over your chest. Yami crawls over you, big knees and hands on either side of you, framing your body.
“C’mon, get up, you’ve got more to give me.”
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how about peeta comforts katniss after a birthday call from her mother or gale
holy shit, i totally forgot i had this in my drafts. i am so sorry!!! enjoy <3
1195 words. mild, mild sexy times. more fade to black than anything.
--
The phone that rests in our study, used more frequently now with the calls to Dr. Aurelius and Peeta's conversations with Annie, chirps out its bright tone. I take one last sip of tea, standing as I do.
Peeta grins at me, saying, "It must be for you."
I roll my eyes at him. "You think?"
"No need to be a smartass," he calls, leaning into my touch as I gently run my hand over his hair as I pass.
"You were first!" I shoot back as I reach the doorway. My pace quickens a bit, fearing the phone will stop ringing before I can pick it up.
When I reach the desk, I lean over and grab the receiver. "Hello?" I ask, sliding around to sit and angling myself to see out the window. Haymitch's geese are flocking around him as he doles out their food, and I bite back a grin as he curses at one for nipping at him.
"Hi Katniss," my mother's voice floats through the receiver, and the smile I was holding back fades away. "How are you?"
"Mom," I start, "Hey. I'm doing well. Just enjoying the day with Peeta. We'll probably have Haymitch over for dinner." I don't tell her that we've just returned from the lake, where we trekked last night to watch the sunrise this morning. We spent the morning in companionable silence; Peeta painted as I swam.
I can hear the soft, sad smile in her voice as she replies, "That sounds wonderful." There's a brief pause, and I know I'm not going to be the one who breaks it. I gnaw on my thumb nail. "I wanted to - well, say happy birthday, honey. It's not everyday your daughter turns twenty-five."
A small pang hits my chest, but not as severely as it might have in the past. Her daughter. Not the eldest of the two, but only one. "Yeah," I manage. "Who'd have thought I'd make it here?"
Ouch. I wince as it comes out, knowing that it's better for me not to say or think those things. "Mom, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she says softly. "You've been through more than anyone should at your age. I'm glad to hear you're healing."
A lump forms in my throat, and it takes me a moment to speak around it. "Me too."
"I'm proud of you," she continues. "For finding a life for yourself and surrounding it with people who love you. Who you love. Prim would be... she would be beyond happy for you. Proud, too. So would your father."
The last sentence comes out so quietly that I almost miss it. Now, I'm truly in danger of crying, so I don't say anything.
"Katniss?" my mom asks. "Are you still there?"
"Yeah," I get out. "Yes." My chest feels like it's going to implode. They should both be here -- all three of them should be here with me. Instead, it's me, Peeta, and Haymitch, this little family I've carved out for myself.
"You don't have to say anything to that, okay? I just wanted you to hear it." She pauses again. "I don't want to keep you too long, but I wanted to call and say happy birthday, and that I love you. Enjoy your day."
"I will," I whisper. "Thank you. I love you too."
"Tell Peeta and Haymitch I say hello."
"I will," I say again, but the line has already clicked dead.
My hand shakes as I return the phone to its place, and I let my eyes fall shut. I take a deep breath in, hold it, then release it. I repeat this a couple more times, and slowly, my composure begins to return.
When tears no longer threaten to make an appearance, I return to the living room. Peeta isn't here anymore, so I grab my thick strand of yarn, fiddling with it as I walk to the slight sounds coming from the kitchen. Peeta is pulling things from the pantry, beginning lunch preparations.
"My mother called," I say quietly. "She says hello."
He stops, setting down what he's holding. Then he takes a few slow steps over and wraps his arms around my waist, stooping just a bit to do so. He holds me so tight, so fiercely, and lifts me off my feet as he straightens back up.
The steadiness of his heartbeat against my own is reassuring. I can feel the tension seeping out of my bones.
My arms are wound tight around his neck, my face buried within them, so it's hard to hear myself when I tell him that I'm okay.
He presses a kiss to the closest part of me he can reach, which happens to be my shoulder, and whispers, "I know."
We stay like that for a minute or two, then Peeta puts me down. He rests his hand on the side of my face, and his thumb runs one swipe along my cheekbone before he returns to lunch preparations.
"Would you like to make the salad or ready the rabbit?"
"The salad," I reply. This will keep my hands busy. I wash them as Peeta measures out the ingredients for my favorite: cheese buns.
We fall into the comfortable routine of making a meal together, and this, too, helps calm me. This is familiar.
"My mother talked about Prim and my father. Said they'd be proud of me," I tell the carrot I'm chopping.
"They would be," Peeta replies. "Absolutely."
"I hope so," I murmur. I don't like admitting it, but these days, I sometimes am proud, too. Life threw everything horrible at me it could, and then some, and here I am, alive, still able to make a peaceful meal with my husband.
A rush of gratitude for what I have hits me, and I pull Peeta into another hug. "Thank you for being here with me. My life is best with you in it."
"You are my life," he whispers. "And everything good about it."
I pull back to look at him, and the love radiating from his eyes is obvious. I kiss him, watching as those beautiful eyes fall shut just before mine do. It's a good thing neither of us had started on the stovetop, seeing as lunch preparations are forgotten for the time being.
He takes me to the couch, touching and whispering love onto every part of my body. It's slow, and gentle, and reminds me that I'm alive. Reminds me that I have a life to live that's no longer clouded with fear and danger. That I can cook with my husband and have sex on our couch and enjoy every moment of it without guilt.
"I love you. I'm grateful for you," I tell him, moving my hips slowly against his. Kiss his mouth, then repeat my love into it until words no longer form on my tongue.
Later, as we are pulling our clothes back on, we get another call. This time, it's Haymitch.
"Are we still doing dinner tonight?" He asks without greeting.
I smile. "Yes, be here at six."
"Alright. Happy birthday, sweetheart."
#katniss everdeen#everlark is superior in every way always#peeta mellark#the hunger games#everlark#haymitch abernathy#katniss's birthday
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Calm-Part 9 (Finale)
Wrecker x Seamstress!reader
Parts 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
Chapter Notes: many new adventures await our lovers.
Authors notes: Here we are! The final part to Calm. This won’t be the last time we see Wrecker, Tech, Chai and Stitches. There’s still so much we haven’t learned about our friends yet! Thank you all of you for being by my side as we tell these stories. I never expected to fall into the bad batch fandom but as a clone wars girly I had to give them a shot and now they’re my loves.
The next part of the Complete Series will be Awake A Crosshair X Innkeeper (Doll)!reader fic!
Crosshair has seen both sides of the board when it comes to finding his place in a changing galaxy. Now that he knows the truth and is a free man, will he be able to adjust? Or will he need the guiding light of an innkeeper?
If you don’t want to be in the Taglist for Crosshairs story please let me know so I can remove you! If not then I’ll see you all there when it premiers in roughly a month!
Chaos, your house was utter chaos right now. You’d somehow been talked into hosting the engagement party for Tech and Chai and thus your house, courtyard, and even your shop, were packed to the brim. The newly engaged couple was around here somewhere no doubt being harassed by countless well-wishers. You were happy for them, they were taking the next big step in their relationship. A really big step in all honesty. Tech had been home for six months now and had changed, they all had. No more were these rigid and fierce clones on the run. No, now they were just men trying to get by in the galaxy like everyone else. Well, kind of.
Hunter, Crosshair, and Echo still went out on missions but they were now infrequent and only if painfully necessary. Other than that they were slowly finding their place here in Pabu. Doll would never openly admit it, but she and Crosshair were in some kind of odd relationship where they were together but also not together. She’d confided in you about the situation one evening while you were dropping off their dinners. Mentioned how it had started as a stress relief for him but was slowly turning into something more. You had no advice to give her besides “follow your heart” it was the best you could do.
Echo had taken up a position at the school as the history of the galaxy professor. He was the least active of the three because of this. You’d asked him one night why he’d chosen that job out of all the jobs he could have taken on Pabu. He’d replied that he wanted to tell the tales of those now gone and make sure that people didn’t forget the past. Whatever the reason, he seemed happy. However, you could tell something weighed on his mind some nights when he’d come over for dinner or to tutor Omega. But he never seemed to share what it was.
Hunter seemed to be the most active of the three of them, struggling to settle while the others had found a new purpose. Almost monthly he was leaving for some kind of mission. Rex being the one to dole out the missions. Hunter would travel back to Ord Mantel and the tea shop there before leaving on whatever the mission was. From what he’d shared with the group, his main job was helping to locate higher-ranked clones who were still missing after the fall of the Jedi.
“Fox” he’d told you one night while Wrecker, Hunter, and yourself were sitting in your courtyard. “He’s the Husband to the Senator who helped us find Omega. We owe it to her to find out what happened to him.”
It had warmed your heart to know that he was determined to thank this woman in whatever way possible. That her help would hopefully be repaid one day. Hunter had told you that it had been close to two years since Riyo had seen or heard from her husband and it had made your heart hurt for her. You could barely survive two days without seeing Wrecker. Going years without seeing him or knowing if he was ok would be torture.
“Credit for your thoughts?” A warm and loving voice pulled you from your thoughts and back to the party happening.
When had you walked out into the courtyard? When had you placed your wine down on the courtyard wall? “Just thinking about these last few months. How lucky Chai and Tech are. How lucky we all are.”
Wrecker smiled while placing his beer down next to your wine. “We are lucky, aren’t we? Got a safe place to call home. Omega is safe and happy. We’re all together and most importantly, we have people who love and care for us.” Reaching up, he ran his thumb across your bottom lip gently. You kissed the pad of the digit making him hum softly. “Come on, let’s make a break for it.”
“Break for what?” You laughed softly while watching the elderly ladies from your shop reprimand some of the kids who were running through the crowd of people. Shaking your head at them, you looked back to your beloved clone.
His thumb traveled from your lip to gliding across your cheekbone before he held your face gently in his large palm. “ Break for the Marauder. Tonight’s the night, Sarad.”
It took you a moment to understand what he was referencing. What was tonight? Then it hit you, the nebula. Tech had located one a few systems over from yours and Wrecker was instantly intrigued. “W-why tonight?” You weren’t ready, you were barely flying the Marauder here in the atmosphere. Now he wanted to take you fully off planet and through hyperspace?
“Tonight’s a night of celebrations. Why not have our own private celebration and finally get you off this rock?” A light sigh came from the large clone as he knelt in front of you. “I’ll never force you to go, but know that I wouldn’t ask this if I didn’t think you were ready.” He looked at your perfect eyes carefully. “I want to show you something wonderful. Will you let me?”
-*-
“W-Wrecker, I can’t do this.” You stared at the vast emptiness of space waiting for you just outside the atmosphere of the planet. The Marauder was currently idling as Wrecker passed the controls to you.
“Yes, you can. You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’ve helped me conquer my fears. I know you can conquer yours.” He reached over and placed his hand on top of yours while it squeezed the yoke.
You looked at that brown-eyed clone with fear coursing through your veins faster than you thought possible. “What if something happens? What if …”
Wrecker released your hand and pulled your face into his hands. “What if the stars fall from the sky and your teeth fall out? Nothing is known for sure besides three things.”
“What’s that?” You watched as that adorable smirk of his made an appearance.
He pulled one of his hands away and held up a finger as he named off his list. “One, this is one of the fastest ships in the galaxy. Techs outfitted her with the best parts credits can buy. If anything happens we will escape. Two, if they somehow catch us then I will defend you and keep you safe until my dying breath.”
A shuddered breath left you as you listened to him. “Three?”
Wrecker leaned in and kissed you deeply and fiercely. “I’ll tell ya when we get to the nebula.”
“What?” He was going to keep that from you and use it as a bribe to get you there? Damn, he must have learned that from Tech. Swallowing the large lump in your throat, you looked back out of the window and towards the waiting darkness of space.
“Get us to the nebula and I’ll tell you the third thing, Sarad.” He stood from his chair and walked around behind yours.
Large hands reached down and found purchase on your shoulders giving you the courage you suddenly needed. You could do this, you were brave. How many times have you circled the planet within the atmosphere? How often had you dreamed about seeing the stars up close like this again? Going to different planets and seeing a nebula in person? You adjusted your grip on the yoke once more before taking a deep breath and pushing forward. The Marauder shot like blaster fire through the clouds and atmosphere before finally breaking through into the vastness of space.
A shaky breath left you as you stared at the endless star-filled void before you. You’d done it. You were in space for the first time in nearly a decade. Shaky hands released the yoke as you slowly stood and turned to face your lover. He was beaming with pride for you and before you could speak, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you. His kisses always made things so much better. Were you terrified? Stars, yes. But in his arms everything was ten times better. You were safe in space with the man you adored.
“I’m so proud of you, Sarad. So. Incredibly. Proud.” Each word was accompanied by a fierce kiss. He wasn’t sure of any other way to share how proud of you he was besides kissing you. You, his perfect wonderfully brave riduur. He savored the lingering taste of wine on your lips as he kissed you once more for far longer than he probably should have. The two of you released each other's lips and took in much-needed oxygen. “Come on, my beautiful girl. Let’s get you to that nebula.”
Oh, how your knees went weak whenever he called you his girl. He pulled away from you and with a smirk that you knew far too well, he started to undo his pants. “And what may I ask, are you doing?”
Wrecker winked at you and pulled down his pants revealing his rock-hard erection. He moved around you and took a seat in the pilot's chair before patting his bare thigh. “Come on, pretty girl. Let me take you to your nebula in style.”
Like you’d say no to an offer like that. Grinning, you reached beneath your skirt and pulled off your panties in one swift movement before passing them to Wrecker. The thick clone took the offered garment and placed it to his face where he inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering at the scent on them. You wondered why he liked the smell of your panties so much but what usually came next drew your attention away from the question every single time. “Mmm, my favorite seat.” Walking over to his lap, you straddled him and smirked. “Sure you can focus on flying while screwing my brains out?” You asked while raising one of your hands to your mouth.
Wrecker watched as you licked one of your hands in a way that had him groaning. You’d done this before and it had made his head swim. The saliva-covered appendage was lowered to his aching cock and wrapped around firmly. “That’s …kriff. That’s what the autopilot is for, riduur.” You’d be in hyperspace for approximately three hours. More than enough time for him to fuck you in here and on one of the bunks. Your hand moved up and down a few times, lathering his cock before you pulled it away and impaled yourself on him. “Kriff, there’s that right little cunt I love so much.”
“Mmmph, here I thought you loved me for me. Not just my cunt.” You sat comfortably with him inside of you for a few moments, taking in his size and wondering if you’d ever tire of this full feeling. Probably not and if you did well it would be clear something was wrong with you.
Wrecker buried his face into the nape of your neck and sucked the skin gently. “Don’t worry, I love you for both.” Turning the chair to face the yoke, Wrecker gripped your hips and lifted you up and nearly off of him. Then he released you letting your body slam down onto him while he released the most sinful deep groan possible. Damn, he needed to focus on flying but you just felt too damn good. “Do me a favor and entertain yourself while I get us to jump?”
You panted needily before nodding. “Ok.” You placed your hands on his shoulders and lifted yourself almost off of him before sliding slowly back down his impressively thick length. It burned and stretched you in all the right ways and you moaned loudly making him chuckle.
He kept one hand on the yoke and the other on your ass guiding your body up and down.“Good girl.”
-*-
Thick fingers stroked your bare back while you lay against Wrecker's bare chest. Your body was tired after the long hours of sex and thus you had no energy to even get up and get dressed. His soft being cock was still buried inside of you from where you’d ended back up again. In his lap and the pilot's seat. After you’d made the jump to hyperspace he’d proceeded to impale you repeatedly on him before lifting you and carrying you towards the bunks in the back. There he’d screwed you into his bunk so perfectly your head had been spinning. You’d cum a second time around him after he’d pressed you against the ladder leading up to Omega's old room and screwed you hard enough to leave some marks on your back. As you came down from your orgasm he’d whispered how thankful he was that Tech kept the medkit properly stocked before leaving you to grab some bacta spray for your back. The third round had you starting in his bunk and finally ending in the pilot's seat once more. Your body was tired and hunger was growing in your stomach, but stars were you satisfied.
“Sarad, we’re about to drop out. Wanna get dressed?” He looked down at you and stroked your cheek gently. Maker, you were beautiful in his lap. How he ever got lucky enough to have you in his life was beyond him. If he could go back in time and tell a young cadet that he would have a woman as magnificent as you in his life one day. Well…he probably would have called himself crazy.
Stars, he was so damn warm! You nuzzled against the warmth he offered and shook your head. “Too comfy.” You could easily fall asleep like this. These strong arms holding you close while a hand stroked your skin giving you goosebumps. This was bliss. Wrecker chuckled deeply, making that broad chest of his vibrate.
He wasn’t going to argue with you about this in the slightest. “Okay, Close your eyes?” He raised his hand to your eyes and gently swiped down, closing your eyelids for you. “I want ya to see it in its entirety for the first time. Not while we pull up to it.”
You smiled softly and nodded while feeling him adjust his arms to steer the ship toward the nebula. It didn’t take too long for you to feel the ship stop, excitement now building within you. Finally, after months of hearing about the beauty of a nebula you were about to see it. Wrecker stood with you securely in his arms before you felt him lift you slightly allowing his softened dick to fall out of you. You shivered at the odd sensation before you heard him tell you to place your feet down. Doing as you were told, you felt his arms leave your body.
The large clone took a few steps away from you to give you a moment and then took a deep breath. “Ok. Open your eyes.”
Opening your eyes to the sight of the nebula was like waking up in a new universe. It was beautiful, no, it was breathtaking. The nebula appeared like a delicate celestial painting, swirling clouds of gas and dust dancing gracefully against the backdrop of space. Its colors, ranging from vibrant hues of red and blue to subtle shades of pink and purple, mesmerized you. In that moment, you felt a connection to the universe, as if you were witnessing the birthplace of stars and planets firsthand. It was a breathtaking experience that left you humbled by the sheer beauty and magnitude of the universe.
“Oh, Wrecker. It’s amazi-“You’d turned to look at your lover and found him staring at you in a way you’d never seen before. “What?” You ran a hand through your messy hair. “Does my hair look weird?”
Wrecker closed the space between the two of you and wrapped his arms around you once more. Never had you looked so beautiful to him. Not in the first time you’d been naked in front of him, not in the afterglow of your orgasm, not even when you told him you loved him. Don’t get him wrong, you were beautiful in each of those moments. But right now with your nude body being bathed in the blue glow of the nebula, you looked beautifully ethereal and all he wanted to do was hold you. “You look perfect, riduur.” Leaning down, he kissed you deeply.
“Thank you, Riduur. This is … well it’s breathtaking. I can’t describe it with any other words.” You now understood why he always said nebulas were beautiful. Though, you still couldn’t see how you were more beautiful than the sight outside the ship. Now, that was the most beautiful sight in existence.
Riduur coming from your lips always sent a chill down his spine. You were calling him your partner, your spouse in the language of the clones, his language. A language that you were trying to learn for him. How amazing could you get? “Sarad, you should know something.”
“Is it point number three?” You smiled at the serious look on his face making him smile back. “You told me you’d tell me when we got here.”
You were right. He had told you that hadn’t he? Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. “Point number three is that I am undeniably and insanely in love with you. I can’t see my life without you in it. You mean everything to me. You are brave and strong and more beautiful than that nebula outside. I adore you, Stitches and I need you by my side forever.”
Your bottom lip trembled as he confessed his undying love to you. Yes, he’d told you he loved you countless times before but this. Stars, this was so much more intense. “Oh, Wrecker. I love you so much too. I never want you to leave my side.”
Wrecker took a deep breath before speaking. “Mesh’la, I haven’t been honest with you about what Riduur stands for.”
“It means partner or spouse. I know already, my love.” You tapped your nails against his chest as he continued to hold you close. “Omega told me the same night we went to the waterfall the first time.”
But that was months ago, nearly a year now and you hadn’t said anything? “You’re not mad?”
Your head shook quickly “How could I be mad when I feel the same way?”
“You do?” Wrecker felt something inside of him well up. You were ok with being called his riduur. You saw yourself as his wife! He watched you bite your bottom swollen lip and nod quickly. “T-then … will you marry me?”
Tears burned your eyes as you nodded and cried in happiness. “ Of course! How could I say no?” He picked you up and spun the two of you in happy delight making you gasp and wrap your arms around his neck.
“I don’t have a ring. B-but I’ll get you one. Any style you want! We can head to Ord Mantel right now.” He wanted to jump into the pilot seat and fly straight to the planet right now. But he also didn’t want to let you go. No, he wanted to hold you forever and ever.
Your laugh filled the air as you wiped tears away from your eyes. “Wrecker, there’s no rush. We’ll get one when we get one.” Plus it would be less attention on you two right now when everyone was celebrating Chai and Tech.
“Are you sure? We can go right now and be there in less than six hours.” You had more than enough fuel to make it and you two could stay at the tea shop. You nodded to him, making him hum in thought. “Ok. But as soon as we get the chance. I’m getting you the most beautiful ring in existence.”
“You could get me a piece of twine and I’d wear it with pride.” He chuckled against your lips before he pressed his against yours in a passionate kiss. “I don’t need a ring for you to show how much you love me, Wrecker. I just need you by my side.”
“I can do that, riduur.” He whispered while lowering the two of you to the floor, his cock hard once more. “I can do that.”
-*-
“Look at that ring! It’s gorgeous!” Chai held your hand up for Doll to see.
The three of you were currently in your shop designing Chai’s wedding dress. They were planning the ceremony in such a short amount of time you worried slightly if it would be finished in time. Four months wasn’t long when it came to designing and sewing a dress. But with Magda and Sue by your side, you may just be able to finish it in time. You blushed as you held the ring up for both women to see. “It’s black opal. Wrecker had Tech help him pick it out because it reminded him of our nebula.”
“How romantic.” Doll sat with a bolt of silk fabric in her lap, her fingers gently stroking the cool material. “It looks like a little tiara on your finger.”
“You’d know all about tiaras wouldn’t you, Miss Pabu, three years running.” Doll was gorgeous and she knew it, as did everyone else. It wasn’t a surprise that she won the island pageant every year.
“Think I’ll be hanging my tiara up this year. Give some of the other girls a chance.” She sighed softly as she stared at your wring. The metal was black for your band and went into a diamond shape that made it look like the top of a tiara with the black opal in the center. Little stones cradled the metal drawing the eye towards the hypnotic trance of the stone. “I can’t believe he flew you to a nebula to ask you to marry him.” It was just all so romantic. You with your Prince Charming and Chai with her knight in shining armor. She wanted that to be her, but Crosshair was a stubborn ass who wouldn’t let her in.
“I can’t believe Tech hung from the side of the island with Chai to propose. Think that has mine and Wrecker beat by a long shot.” You watched the way Doll became lost in her thoughts. It seemed whatever situationship she and Crosshair were in was currently not doing great. She hadn’t told you much but from the way she was sighing and staring off into space, you could tell it wasn’t good. You’d ask her about it but she’d seemed adamant about Chai not knowing yet. The poor girl would be too excited for something that wasn’t even a full relationship yet. Shaking your head, you looked back to Chai who was standing in the mirror looking at herself. “With these gorgeous shoes from Ahsoka’s friend as a starting point to design the dress around, I don’t see us having any issues deciding on a style.” You motioned to the shoes sitting in their box still. “You’ll have to send her a thank you note. Couldn’t have been cheap to ship from Naboo.”
The tea shop owner nodded as she turned and eyed her body carefully. What style should she go for?“From what Ahsoka told me, her friend died a while ago but the person handling her assets was positive she’d want another bride to wear them for her wedding.” Chai stared at the gorgeous heels with flowers embossed on the gold material. “Apparently her wedding was at a lake. I asked if she wanted them returned but Ahsoka said to keep them.” It was far too kind for shoes that looked more expensive than she’d ever spend on shoes. But the lovely gift would be a treasured moment in their ceremony.
“Oh, how sad.” You made a mental note to make sure the expensive shoes were properly cared for. “Did the husband not want her things around?” The memory of when you’d tried to throw all your parent's stuff away after their death came back to you. The sight of your dad's jacket or your mom's scarf would hurt too much to see them around. You were glad that Phee had stopped you from discarding the items.
Chai turned and sat on the stool she’d been standing on. “Apparently he died around the same time. Super tragic. But from what Ahsoka told me, she’d never seen two people more in love.” That was all the mysterious Jedi would share about the owner of the shoes and her life. Chai hadn’t felt the need to push the topic.
“Oh, how heartbreakingly tragic!” Doll leaned back in the chair. “I hope they’re with one another now. Happy and still in love.”
You hoped that Doll wasn’t about to cry on that silk. It was from Naboo and worth a good chunk of credits. Your oldest friend was a hopeless romantic when it came down to it. With others, she acted as though she didn’t care but romance novels and movies were her guilty pleasure. “That’s all any of us really want. Isn't it?” You gave your friend a reassuring smile before tapping at your datapad. “What about something with puffed sleeves?”
Chai made a face at you making all of you laugh brightly. It had been a while since all three of you had been together like this. You’d missed it. “Ok, ok. How about…” you tapped at the screen a few times. “Something like this?”
“Oh, Stitches. It’s perfect.” Chai walked over and stared at the design on your screen. Yes, that was her dress.
-*-
You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. It seemed Doll and Crosshair had made up just in time for the wedding as he was currently leading her towards the side of the Archium. You nudged Wrecker and pointed towards the two. “Would you look at that? Looks like Crosshair is settling in.”
“That’s my brother! Always good with the ladies.” He placed a hand on your shoulder with a proud smirk. “She’s gonna be good for him, right?”
“Yeah. She’s sweet and has a wart of gold. Only thing I worry about is the romantic notions she has. She can fall kinda easily for someone.” The poor girl had just gotten over a crappy relationship right before Crosshair and the others had returned to the island.
“Cross is still recovering … but I think he’ll take care of her.” He stroked his chin in thought. “Don’t worry, if he hurts her, I’ll hurt him.” Though he doubted it would ever come to that.
“Sounds good.” A noise on the opposite side of you caught your attention making you look towards the source. You watched as Chai and Tech tried to make their secret exit from the party. Her dress had come out beautifully and was perfectly paired with the golden heels she’d been gifted. The pressed flowers between the layers of her dress had come out exactly as you’d hoped. It had been touch and go for a while but you’d somehow pulled it off. “I don’t think they’re being as secretive about leaving as they think they are. You chuckled softly to your fiancé next to you.
Wrecker watched as Chai made a gesture to her brother begging him for silence as they made their way out of the Archium courtyard. “Not even a little.” He looked down at you and smiled while brushing some of your hair over your shoulder. “So what’d ya think? Wanna have a big wedding like this?”
A laugh left you as you shook your head. “Not in the slightest. Far too many people and far too chaotic.” You placed a hand on his bicep and stroked it lovingly. “Just me, you, and Shep to officiate. Plus the rest of our little family. But that’s it. We don’t need the entire island there.”
“Sounds good to me. Means we don’t need a big party and I can have you all to myself.” He leaned down and kissed you gently. “We’ll still have cake, right?”
“Of course.” You winked at him before stepping over to Omega and shaking her awake gently. “Can’t deny this one her cake.” The child had eaten herself into a sugar coma and was currently nuzzled under the large tree in the courtyard. “Come on, ‘Mega. Time for bed.”
Omega yawned while stretching her arms over her head. “But I’m not tired.” The plate of half-eaten sweets and treats fell to the side as she adjusted. “What about the party?”
“You’ve been sleeping the last thirty minutes!” Wrecker joked while reaching down to pick up his sister. “Tech and Chai left already. Time for bed.”
“But I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Omega whined while climbing into Wrecker’s arms. Her body felt so tired and her head kind of hurt.
“We’ll see them in a few days.” Smiling, you picked up her plate and walked it over to a nearby trash while Wrecker followed you.
“Will they have babies next?” She kicked her feet lazily from Wrecker's shoulder.
You froze and looked at her. “Well … I don’t know. Maybe. That’s kind of a discussion for them to have.”
“Oh,” Omega thought silently to herself for a moment before speaking again. “Are you and Wrecker going to have babies?”
“I … we …” you stumbled over your words as you tried to find the right words. Quickly, you looked at your lover for help.
“That’s one of those adult conversations that Tech was telling ya about.” Wrecker adjusted the girl on his shoulder.
Omega chewed her lip in thought for a few minutes. From the way you were acting, it seemed like it had been an uncomfortable question. “Will you, please?” She was so tired that the question had just slipped from her lips.
The three of you had started walking towards the house when she made her request. “Omega?” You stopped and looked up at her. “Why do you want us to have babies so badly?"
Wrecker lowered the sleepy girl to the ground before taking his place next to you and kneeling. Omega shifted a few times before finally laying her heart out to you both. “When I found out that Emerie was a clone it was like something changed inside me. I had a sister. A blood sister. But then Hemlock killed her to punish me and it… hurt a lot.” She toed the cobblestone a few times. “I want family members my size, my age. I miss seeing the babies and kids around Kamino.”
“Having babies the natural way is … well it’s difficult, sweetie.” There was a lot to it and honestly, you weren’t sure the clones could even reproduce. Wrecker had told you that he’d been told that clones were unable to reproduce. But he’d also been told there were no female clones and right now you were both staring at the truth. “For now, let’s just enjoy being our own little family, like we have been, yeah?”
Omega nodded while wiping a few tears away. You reached over and took one of her hands while Wrecker took the other and continued your walk home. After a few minutes, she spoke once more. “What does fertile mean?”
Once again you froze midstep. What the hell was in that cake that she was asking these types of questions? You turned and looked at the blonde with a tinge of concern in your eyes. “W-why do you want to know that? Did someone say that to you?”
“Nala Se and one of the other Kaminoans were talking about the reproductive capabilities of the clones. Nala Se they were told something about being infertile but were actually very fertile. What does that mean?” Omega watched as some kind of look crossed your face. Shock? Confusion? Surprise? It was hard to tell.
Wrecker felt like his knees were going to give out. Fertile. If Tech said that infertile meant unable to reproduce then fertile was the opposite and she said that they were very fertile. Which meant that they could have kids. Kids, he could have kids. The two of you needed to talk ASAP. But what did he say? Was he supposed to tell her the truth? Raising kids was hard. “W-well you see. It means … “
“It means they’re great at farming. Why do you think Cut and his family are doing so great?” The ease at which that fell out of your mouth was slightly concerning. But you’d question that later. Right now, Wrecker was giving you a smirk that was making your heart skip. Kids, you two could have kids. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
-*-
“So … guess we should talk about tonight’s revelation. Huh?” You sat on the edge of your bed in your nightgown with your feet swaying.
Wrecker nodded as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Guess so.” All he’d been thinking about since that moment an hour ago was you carrying his child. The idea of your stomach swollen and full because of him had unlocked something within him. Wrecker stepped over to you with just his pants on. Kneeling in front of you, he took your hands in his. “I know what I’m thinking and how I feel. What about you?”
You blinked a few times trying to keep yourself calm. “I … like the idea of us having a child someday. I’ve always liked that idea. I just … didn’t think that was a possibility for us.” Your eyes stung as you began to fight back tears. “B-but now we can. Now we have that chance.” A few tears ran down your cheek. You sincerely hoped he felt the same way. “What do you think?”
“I think you’ll look amazing carrying our child.” He whispered before leaning into you and kissing you deeply. His hand wrapped around the back of your head and kept you close while he felt the wetness of your tears run against his lips. “You’ll be beautiful and I’ll care for you, Omega, and our baby in every way possible.”
“You sure I won’t disgust you with my swollen ankles and morning sickness?” Sweetly, you ran your nose against his while leaning back into the bed.
Wrecker laughed brightly while crawling over you and caging you beneath his body. “I’ll find you the sexiest woman in the universe.” He bent down and kissed above your breast. “I’ll get you whatever weird cravings you want. I’ll sleep with the house like a frozen tundra or like the sands of Tatooine.” He kissed above the other one while moving towards your shoulder where the thin black strap of silk material held the dress up. “If you want the house to smell like fish then so be it. If you want us to stop eating Mantel mix because the smell makes you sick then we will. Whatever you desire, I will do it.”
His lips pressed against the crook of your neck while his sweet words danced in your ears making you sigh in need. “All I’ll need is you by my side, riduur.”
“I’ll be there for you. Always. Either inside or beside you, my nebula.” Rough lips pressed to your jaw before finally finding your lips once more. He raised his calloused fingers to your thigh and slowly pushed the material up, pleased to find you’d forgone panties. “You’re missing something, Sarad.”
His thick fingers pressed into your thigh pulling a small moan from your lips. “I thought we could practice some more.”
A deep dark chuckle left the clone as he pulled away from your lips and leaned back to stare at your needy body. Your legs were spread open with the dress pushed up around your waist and your heat glistened in the light for him. “Kriff, I’ll never get over how delicious you look, Mesh’la.” He moved to the edge of the bed and pulled you with him, making you squeak. “We’ll practice as much as you want. Not in any rush to share ya just yet.”
You prepared to comment back to him but instead found your words replaced by a long moan. Wrecker had flicked his tongue right over your sensitive bud and was quickly turning you into a puddle. “P-practice time?” He growled an ‘mhmm’ from between your legs sending a vibration through your body. Kriff, how were you supposed to be quiet when he moved his tongue like that?
“That’s right, be a good girl and be quiet. Don’t want ‘Mega hearing us.” He smirked up at you from his happy place between your legs, watching as you bit your lip in need. Sure, making you scream while forcing you to be quiet was mean but you were so damn pretty when you fought your voice. “Don’t want her to hear us farming in here.” Wrecker gave you a teasing smirk.
“Ugh, I panicked.” You laid your arm over your eyes and sighed as Wrecker's breath ghosted your core. “I will admit, you’re pretty kriffing amazing at f-farming.” His tongue swirled around your pearl and you were instantly a moaning mess.
The large clone chuckled before he gripped your thigh and squeezed it. “We’ve been farming a lot lately. Lots of practice.” He moved his free hand below his chin and ran a thick digit across your opening. Your cute whine beneath him made his hips roll against the edge of your bed. His cock was getting too hard in these pants, he needed to take them off. “Be a good girl and play with yourself while I get undressed.”
You watched him stand and slowly begin to unbutton his pants. Reaching between your legs, you slowly rubbed your clit. It wasn’t as good as his tongue, you’d found that nothing could be as good as his tongue. But it was doing enough to keep you stimulated and in need of him. “Wrecker” you gasped softly while rolling your hips against your hand, your speed picking up. “Need you. Now. Please.”
He growled while watching your fingers dance across your core. “Such a good girl.” Came as a whisper from him as he lowered his pants and stepped out of them. He watched as your fingers slid closer to your opening and quickly, his large hand reached out and grabbed yours while tutting at you. “That’s my job, sarad. Ya that needy that you forgot?”
A long whine left you as you took in the hard member between his legs. Screw his mouth and fingers! You wanted him . Sitting on the edge of the bed, you reached out and wrapped your hand around his cock while using your other hand to beckon him closer. Wrecker happily moved closer to you and let out a long sigh as your hand started to pump him slowly.
“Eager, ain’t ya?” He rocked his hips into your hand, helping you pump him.
“Need you filling me up.” Knowing that you could have kids with him was making you so unbelievably needy for him to screw you.
Wrecker let you work on his cock while bending down to kiss you. “My sweet nebula, are you asking me to breed you?” A sentence he never thought he’d say.
Was that what this was? A desire to be bred and swollen with his seed? Stars, you never thought your life would get to this point but you had to admit you loved the idea. “Yes! Please, breed me Wrecker.” His hips stopped moving and instead, you were pushed back onto the bed.
You were so damn hot when you begged for him like this. Like hell was he going to say no. “Get on all fours, sarad. Gonna screw ya good and hard.”
You moved so fast that you would have thought your life depended on it. His strong hands wrapped around your waist and held you firm. The strong demanding feeling of his hands on your body was so mind-numbingly amazing feeling you could easily get lost in it. The tip of him was rubbed against your folds gathering the wetness from his mouth and your need to help ease him entering you. You shuddered at the feeling as he lined up with your entrance before carefully and slowly pressing into you. A long hiss left you as you felt the telltale pressure of him inside of you. He filled you perfectly in all the right ways. Your lover shifted before pulling away and thrusting into you once, twice, and three times. You were a howling mess instantly. “Yes, Wrecker!”
Wrecker watched you fall onto your elbows and bury your face into one of the pillows, no doubt trying to muffle your cries of pleasure. He hummed at the delicious sight of you bent over in front of him, his dick buried in your core. “Look so good like this.” He thrusted languidly a few more times before he watched your arm move beneath you. Suddenly you were clenching him and keening even more into the pillow. You were playing with yourself while he fucked you, perfect. “That’s right. Work yourself while I fuck ya.” He groaned as you squeezed him. He’d fucked you the night before and yet your cunt was as amazing as ever. Lasting long wouldn’t be in the cards for him that night. Not when he knew you wanted him to breed you. That delicious idea of his seed filling you was single-handedly driving him to his climax.
“Wrecker, fill me with your cum. Please. Fuck me and fill me.” His hands tightened around your waist as his speed increased. “Oooohhhh.” Between him hitting that spot inside you and your fingers working between your legs, you were becoming a blubbering mess. Suddenly, his hand was on one of your ankles and pulling it up. You turned to the side slightly and found him placing your ankle near his ear. The position allowed him to sink deeper into you and after four hard deep thrusts that was it for you. You came in a stifled cry as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.
Kriff, your cunt held him for dear life, practically begging for his seed. Who was he to hold back? He gripped your thigh tight and held you in place as he deepened his thrusts and his speed. The lewd sound of your sweaty bodies slapping filled the room as the bed began to squeak. He didn’t care, he was ready to fill you. “Say it again. Beg for it.”
“Please, Wrecker.” You sighed through your post-orgasm haze. “Fill me with your seed. Let me milk you.”
You said it in such a sensual and needy way it had him falling over his edge. Each thrust of his orgasm was deep and hard as he tried to plant himself as deep into your body as possible. The hot strings of his release coated your walls and filled you as much as possible, nearly overflowing from your body. “Fuck, so good at milking me.” He continued to thrust slowly to ensure all of him had been planted inside of you.
Once he came down from his high, he didn’t pull himself from you. Instead, he kept himself buried inside your warmth to ensure none leaked out of you just yet. Your ankle was lowered back to the bed and he fell behind you before placing kisses across your shoulder. “Think that’ll take?”
Reaching behind you, you stroked his cheek sweetly while humming. “That would be nice. But if it hasn’t taken thus far then we may need more practice.” You hadn’t lied to Omega when you’d stated it could take a couple years. Your parents had tried for three before you were born and were never able to conceive again.
“Hmmm, don’t mind the practice. Only practice I’ll look forward to.” He whispered into your ear, his fingers ghosting your arm. While he enjoyed screwing you, this post-sex cuddling was his favorite part. In this moment everything in life was perfect. You were perfect and glowed with a post-sex aura. All he wanted was to be near you when you were like this.
“Then we’ll keep practicing. You know what they say, practice makes perfect.”
-*-
“Sarad? What are you doing out here?” Wrecker was surprised to find you outside. Chai and Tech's new baby, Ashla, was inside your home and you’d done nothing but talk about how excited you were to hold her.
You turned from the courtyard wall and looked at your love. “Thinking.” You leaned back against the wall to the distaste of your fiancé. No matter how much had changed and how brave he’d become when it came to his fear of heights, he still hated that you liked to lean against this wall. Some things never changed.
Wrecker walked over and leaned against the wall next to you. His hand took yours and held it up so the sunlight could glean off your engagement ring. “About what?”
Well, maybe some things didn’t fully change. When you first met you couldn’t even get him to come over here and lean against the wall. Now he was willingly doing so. “Our wedding. How many people were inviting.”
“Having second thoughts about the size?” He tugged at your hand and pulled you into him. His arms wrapped around your waist as you pressed your back into his chest. “What a big wedding?”
“Nah, but I think we may have forgotten one or two people.” His arms squeezed slightly before he chuckled.
“Shouldn't be a problem then.” Wrecker leaned down and kissed your cheek sweetly. “That all that’s on your mind?”
You chewed your lip in thought before tilting to the side and looking up at him. “Why haven’t you held Ashla yet? She’s nearly five months old.”
Wrecker shifted awkwardly. “Afraid I’ll hurt her. She’s so tiny and my hands are so big.”
“You won’t hurt her. She’s delicate but not breakable. I know you’ll be careful with her.” You pulled one of his arms from your waist and held his big hand up for you both to look at. “You gotta get used to holding babies, my love.”
“Why’s that?” He placed his head against the top of yours and closed his eyes. To his surprise, you took his hand and placed it on your stomach. “Sarad?”
You bit your lip as his thumb stroked your stomach, how he hadn’t noticed the little bump growing there had amazed you. “Took almost a year. But … well … we’ll have two of our own soon.”
“What? Two? Babies?” Wrecker's mind was scrambling to put the pieces together and to fully understand what you’d said. ‘Two of our own’ your own … “we’re having twins?” You nodded in front of him and he let out a victorious yell. The sound shook the ground around you.
“When you farm, you do it perfectly.” Blushing at his excitement you stepped away and turned to face him. You pulled the bottom of your shirt up a little and turned to the side for him to see. “I’m three months along.”
It took him a moment to notice but sure enough, there was a little bump. Three months, that only gave him six to learn all he could about babies. What did they eat? He’d seen Chai feed Ashla earlier with a bottle. Was that all they ate? Bottle stuff? What about caring for them? How did he stop them from crying all the time? And their diapers! How did he change one of those? They smelled so bad too, would he just get used to them?
“Wrecker?” You could see him getting lost in his thoughts. “Are you okay?” Lowering your shirt, you moved back over to him. “Hey, my love?” You grabbed his hand and placed it back against your stomach. “Talk to us.”
Wrecker blinked a few times before feeling the warmth of your body. “Us …. Us” that’s right. It was no longer just you two. You’d be a family of four in a few months. “I have … a lot to learn.”
You chuckled brightly while nodding. “Yes, you do.” Taking a step towards the house, you pulled him with you. “Starting with holding a baby.”
-*-
Calm, that’s how you’d describe Pabu. The weather was always perfect, save for a rare storm every few months, and the waves always crashed against the rocks of the island in a calming rhythm. Standing in your living area, you watched your little family celebrate the news of your pregnancy. Your best friends Chai and Doll sat with their respective partners, Tech and Crosshair, while the love of your life nervously took Ashla from Omega. Echo spoke hastily with Dove about something closer to the kitchen and Hunter watched the entire group with a protective gaze.
Outside you could hear the foghorns of the fishing boats out at sea, working their lives away to provide for their families and those of the island. You were born here, raised on the sea life brought in daily by the fishermen. While others had escaped whatever horrors they experienced out there in the galaxy by coming here, you’d learned to walk on these cobblestones. Scraped your knees in the plaza at the top of the island and learned to swim in the bay on the back of the island. One day so would yours and Wrecker’s children.
This was your home, where your little family went through disasters with one another and came out stronger on the other end. Where laughter and tears were shed and new loves were formed.
This was Pabu.
This was home.
The End
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#fanfic update#bad batch wrecker#the bad batch fic#bad batch fic#wrecker tbb#bad batch wrecker x reader#wrecker x you#the bad batch wrecker#wrecker the bad batch#tbb wrecker#SoundCloud
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For ficlet prompts : Wriothesley encouraging Clorinde into Neuvillette's harem. Very encouraging. Please the pining is covering up the sweet scent of the roses and also he's old and his back can only take so much.
The Duke of Meropide, it turns out, is not at all what she’d expected.
He doesn’t look nearly as old as he is – almost neatly twice her age – and he doesn’t move nearly as gracelessly as men half his size do. The fact he’s using that nimble grace to pour her tea is interesting, but she’s more distracted by the scar running along the length of his throat, thick like two of her fingers, and barely hidden by what she’s fairly sure is a collar of some sort. Morbidly, she thinks it looks like it’s trying to keep his throat from splitting open, but it’d be rude to point it out. Almost as rude as all the staring she’s doing, but he did invite her to a tea party out of the blue, and he didn’t have the decency to host at his Fortress. She’s never been to the dank, terrifying depths of Meropide, which terrify all of Fontaine and serve as anvil to the threat of her sword as the hammer. Together, in a way, they safeguard the innocent and corral the guilty, across the land of Fontaine.
Clorinde has been a fully-fledged Champion Duelist for nearly five years now, and the mysterious faceless Lord had never had occasion to seek out her company.
It’s not hard to guess why he’d do so now, though.
The Duke was granted his title at the Iudex’s personal request, not merely a Baron, as it was traditional for the self-appointed ruler of exiles, but a Grand Duke, highest rank amongst the nobility and given voice and veto into the very workings of Fontaine itself. It’s no coincidence that people often omit the adjective, when speaking of him, as if they could somehow omit the power he carries or make his authority less real than it is. And yet, in twenty years, not once has that gear turned. In twenty years, not once has the feared master of the underworld made a single change to the fabled overworld that so feared his power to do so. At least, that’s the well-known wisdom: you always know when a Lord makes a move, the earth itself rumbles under the weight of their might.
Wriothesley – Grand Duke of Meropide and Head Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide – could very easily cause a commotion in the Court of Fontaine if he wanted to, beyond titles or mora; he has a distinguished, well-kept appearance that invites a different kind of contemplation. Clorinde has a fondness for the fairer side of the population, but she also has working eyes and a fully functional brain.
As it is, Clorinde has rose in prominence, having just recently been granted as personal guard to Lady Furina. Althought the idea that one must guard an Archon is quite silly, so she is instead tasked with serving as a buffer, her reputation providing some distance between the adoring crowds and their God. It is a coveted seat, and the friction of it has already begun to show, in her peers and those who look at her and misunderstand what she is. They would make her a pawn, unaware all the time she is nothing but a sword dutifully in the service of the Justice doled out by the very God she guards.
It was an appointment granted by the Iudex himself, though given the last duel she'd fought in, before receiving it, she has wondered if her time in the arena has come to an end.
“There we go,” Wriothesley says, putting down the kettle, not a single drop spilled, and then sits back across from her, on the rather quaint garden table, sitting in the shade of a wide umbrella of what feels like picture perfect country house. “Now then.”
“To business?” She asks, watching him plop a sugar cube into his tea and stir it slowly, thick, calloused fingers infinitely delicate when handling a thin silver spoon she’s fairly sure outdates both of them combined.
“Ha, I wish,” Wriothesley says, pale blue eyes nearly silver as he scoffs. “No, this is solely a personal affair.”
Clorinde lets her eyes stray along the wild grass, away from the cozy shape of the house: this is not a lived in house, but it is a well-kept one, in the ways that matter. The lawn is overrun with wild flowers and the grass is too long to be decorous, but the wooden accents are oiled and weatherproofed, the masonry has not a single chip on it and on the roof not a single tile is out of place.
Clorinde looks back at the Duke, who is staring at her with the intent, piercing gaze of a bloodhound staring at its prey. She very purposefully reaches out for her cup, and, fearlessly, takes as sip of it as is, no sugar nor cream nor anything else.
“Your Grace,” she said, putting down the cup, and staring at him right in the eye. “Before you say something unfortunate, you must know: I prefer coffee, rather than tea.”
Wriothesley stares at her and then barks a laugh that shakes his wide shoulders, a booming laugh that makes his eyes crinkle, even as he holds a hand to his mouth, to hold it back a little. He is, she decides, devastatingly handsome, when he laughs.
“Ah, Miss Clorinde,” he says, sobering up, eyes bright. “You need not fret, I myself prefer tea to the exclusion of coffee.”
“Is that so?” Clorinde asks, brows dipping down into a slight frown.
“Yup,” Wriothesley says, voice back to that flat tone of his, which made his emotions and intent hard to read. Oily, almost, if not for the fact that makes it sound unpleasant and he… isn’t, per se. He takes a sip of his tea, eyes staring at her over the rim as he does. “But Monsieur Neuvillette, you see, he’s got a taste for both.”
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Take a risk
His words were always quick to cut, mouth twisted into a scowl as he spat vitriol in her direction. But she noticed what others did not.
What he seemed so eager to dole out, he prohibited from others. If Crabbe stuck a leg out in her path, Malfoy was quick to intercede with some distraction of his own. When she overheard Parkinson’s unkind descriptions about her appearance, she was surprised by his quick follow up putting the pug-nosed girl in her own well of shame.
It didn’t take an idiot to figure out that Draco Malfoy loathed her, but what he loathed more was anyone else taking his place as her sole tormentor. And while she shed her tears and hit back at him with her own scathing retorts, she also realized Malfoy paid more attention to her than he did to anyone else, friend or foe.
The notice trod dangerously close to curiosity, eventually going so far as to become indistinguishable from fascination. She obviously intrigued him, but the boy who denied himself nothing refused to acknowledge her.
Hermione always liked a challenge.
She found him Saturday night deep in the stacks long after most other studious students had departed. Head buried in a tome, he flipped the pages oblivious to her presence.
“Interesting reading material.”
He nearly dropped the book as he spun around to face her. One hand flicked down to his pocket as if to reach for his wand, but her relaxed stance and amused smile gave him reasons to pause.
“What do you want, Granger?” He spat, snapping the book shut and hiding it behind his back.
Maintaining her smile and eye contact, she stepped closer, just slow enough to give him time to retreat if he desired. He didn’t move. They stood a mere step or two apart, not close enough to be inappropriate, but near enough that anyone who saw them would double back at the odd pairing.
“I haven’t seen you around much lately.”
“You should consider yourself lucky. I have more important things to care about right now.”
“Like researching magical artifacts and relocation charms?”
He sucked in a sharp breath at her question, shoulders stiffening at the edges. With one secret in the open, there wasn’t any point hiding the book in his hands now.
“It’s none of your bloody business.” His voice shook, hands fisting on the cover he now clutched to his stomach.
Hermione took her time looking him over, and he shuffled in discomfort. For all his bluster and gained height over the past year, he looked gaunt and almost ghostly in complexion. “Are you okay, Malfoy? You don’t look well.”
Scoffing in disbelief, he shot back, “And you care because?”
“I just do.”
He looked baffled at her confession, lips parting in surprise and posture loosening. She had her foot in the crack and just needed to pry the door open now.
She raised one hand slowly, much like her movement before, letting him see the motion and gauging his response. He was tall now, much taller than her, and she had to reach up to touch his face. Fingertips brushed along the nape of his neck to cup behind his ear and delve into his hair, just as soft as she had always imagined. He remained frozen and she took that as encouragement to continue, stepping into his frame now and pressing her other hand into his chest above his heart. Here there was movement, a frantic beating beneath the cloth betraying his emotions.
Leaning up, she applied pressure to the back of his neck to bring him down to meet her. The edges of the tome between them pressed painfully into her stomach, but she welcomed its reminder of the risk she took. She could see the flutter of his lashes, watched as they closed in defeat before lips brushed together once, twice. She smelled mint and the barest hint of bergamot. As she pulled away and dropped to her heels, he leaned forward as if to chase her, only to meet air as she stepped back.
“What was that for?” His voice was husky in a way she’d never heard before, but now wanted to hear again.
“Consider it a bid for peace.”
His mouth tightened as he considered her proposal, eyes lingering on her lips he now knew the taste of and whose touch he preferred infinitely more than their lack. “And what makes you think I need the distraction?”
“Distraction, or respite?”
He tried to cover his chuckle with a cough, but she heard it regardless. “I don’t exactly have time for games.”
“I’m not a player.”
She retreated a step and adjusted the bag strap on her shoulder. She wouldn’t push too hard now. Hermione might not play Wizard’s Chess as well as Ron, but she knew when to retreat, when to press forward, and, like now, when to wait.
“I’ll see you around, Malfoy.”
#dramione prompts#dramione#draco malfoy#hermione granger#draco malfoy x hermione granger#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter flashfic
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Hello! A DADWC prompt for you: "…where it hurts." for Zevran/M!warden, or any another ship you feel up for!
Always up for Zev ships x Thanks!
-----
Theron hissed as he peeled away the remains of the blood-soaked sleeve under his bracer, the armour itself in pieces by his feet. A glancing shot from a tentacle had scored right through the leather and rent a nasty gash in his forearm that still bled sluggishly. Fuck the Deep Roads there and back again, he never wanted to see so much as the shadow of a brood mother ever again. Once was too much already.
The other members of the party who had remained in camp were helping Wynne with doling out new bandages, fresh potions and poultices. He looked up just as Zevran wandered over, a sight for sore eyes as it was, but even more welcome as Theron spied a particularly potent draught in his hand. He smiled at the other elf as the former assassin sat next to him on the ground near the fire, eyes on the wound. He made a small noise in sympathy and Theron shrugged with his other shoulder, a wry smile on his face.
'This one's going to leave a scar,' he said lightly. 'Aren't you glad you didn't come with us now?' He asked, only half-joking. Zevran looked up at him. He was smiling with Theron, but his eyes were serious.
'I heard you fought the... source of these spawn,' he said in his lilting accent. 'Oghren said... tentacles?' Theron made a face.
'Yes, too many, with fangs on them. Disgusting creatures. I think I got off lightly though,' he added as he reached for the potion Zevran had placed between them. 'Oghren caught a nasty blow across his shoulder.'
Zevran nodded. 'Morrigan is helping patch him up now. I would be shocked, amor, that you did not hear the cursing, but he did not manage to get more than a few words out before they just decided to send him to sleep instead to avoid the hassle.' Theron snorted a laugh. Deciding to cut out the middle man, he slowly poured the vermillion liquid over the tear in his flesh, wincing as he watched the muscle and skin knit itself together in front of him. As many times as he did it, he never got used to that sight. Zevran picked up his hand as the last of the wound repaired itself and brought Theron's fingers to his lips, their eyes connecting, before he kissed him again, this time on the pink line that had formed on Theron's forearm. He let out a heavy sigh.
'I confess, I know you have been wounded worse than this, but the Deep Roads... they give me a different sort of worry,' Zevran confided, his eyes on Theron again, his voice low. 'I shall be glad when we are above ground again, to be able to see the clouds and the stars again. And, dare to dream, the end of this misery soon thereafter.'
It was a thin hope, all there knew it, but Theron was more than willing to dare with him. He was learning, all too well, how precious that feeling was these days.
@dadrunkwriting
#zevran arainai#theron mahariel#male mahariel#zevran/theron#dragon age origins#dragon age#fanfiction#my fanfiction#dadwc#celemee
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